#and i said like ‘we are communist rebels’

[ilynpilled]

Glad you're alive and well. We need u in the wars to come

what wars lmao 😭😭

[maxdibert]

Why do you think Sirius gave up on his family? Do you think he thought they would forgive him for becoming friends with a blood traitor so he just did what he wanted but as the war progressed he realized he has to actually make a choice? Like he took it as a rebellion and angst at the beginning and only later realized how real the pressure was? Did he not love them enough? What was the deal there? (I know you are a Snape account but I love your takes on other characters as well that's why I'm asking for your opinion on this. Btw I read your fic and I love the way you write Snape's internal dilemas)

Well, you can ask me about any character—I don’t exclusively talk about Severus hahaha and i love to rant about things so... Also, Sirius? Can’t stand him. But I like him as a character because I find him so cynical and hypocritical that he’s absolutely fascinating. I’ve always had this love-hate relationship with rich kids from ultra-conservative families who play at being progressives and think they’re these righteous justice warriors but, at the end of the day, are still just privileged kids with privileged prejudices and privileged habits. And I mean that sincerely—no irony intended. I’ve met plenty of people like that in my life, and I think Sirius is a very realistic representation of the cognitive dissonance that people like this tend to have.

That said, here’s something I’ve always thought. Obviously, this is a personal headcanon based on my own experiences with people who fit his profile, but I think it holds water. Usually, people like this—those who grow up in oppressive environments and eventually become atheist anti-religion types, join the communist party to scandalize their ultra-right-wing parents, or turn into crypto bros after ditching the vegan hippie commune their parents raised them in—do this stuff in late adolescence, almost as adults. But Sirius? He starts rebelling really early, as a kid. By the time he’s 11, he already feels the need to rebel against his family.

It happens the moment he meets James, when James establishes that Slytherin is the worst. Sirius comments—offhandedly, without any resentment or anger—that his whole family’s been in Slytherin. He doesn’t seem like he’s at war with them yet, but you can tell he kind of likes the idea of not being in Slytherin just to piss them off. Add to that the fact that he hints in OotP that his dad was a pushover and calls Regulus an idiot—like he was just a fool—but he doesn’t seem truly resentful toward either of them. Sure, they didn’t have a great relationship, but when he talks about them, it’s more with antipathy than hatred. All of this leads me to the same conclusion: mommy issues.

Sirius had major mommy issues—or at least, that’s how I see it. Rich boys with daddy issues rebel by trying to become powerful men, detached from the arena where their fathers succeeded, but determined to surpass them. Rich boys with mommy issues? They turn into psychos. Seriously, that’s just how it works—I don’t make the rules. I think Sirius always clashed hard with Walburga because (and this is my favorite part, because this isn’t just a headcanon; I’m absolutely convinced of this from the little we see of their interactions—or of him with the portrait—in the books) they had the same shitty personality.

Walburga was a dominant, explosive woman with an imposing, even despotic, character. It’s very reminiscent of Bellatrix and, by extension, very much like Sirius. I think Regulus and Orion had similar personalities—the same kind Narcissa shows: arrogant, smug, classist, but restrained and composed. Egocentric, but calm. Walburga, Sirius, and Bellatrix are the other side of that aristocratic coin: the type who believe they’re entitled to everything and everyone, the kind who bulldoze over everything in their path. They’re wild and uncontrollable personalities, especially if someone tries to rein them in.

In my mind, Sirius took after his mom, and Walburga couldn’t stand having someone so much like her constantly challenging her authority. Sirius, meanwhile, couldn’t stand her trying to control him. So at age 11, his rebellion was probably just a tantrum aimed at his mom, a way to piss her off as much as possible. From there—and thanks to James’s influence, as well as the credit Sirius gave James because, spoiler-not-spoiler, James was also a rich pureblood wizard like him—he started adopting James’s worldview. Not because it was rooted in firm beliefs or clear reasoning, but because James had a family that wasn’t insane, so he was probably right. And if parroting James’s ideas at home gave his mom a few gray hairs, all the better.

It snowballed and escalated until the relationship was unsalvageable. James offered him a place to stay if he wanted to leave, and Sirius moved out. But the start of it all? A tantrum aimed at mommy. Sirius has some massive mommy issues he just can’t handle. And the funniest part? He’ll do anything to avoid being like her. He’ll go to any length to do the exact opposite of what she would do. But in the end, because they share the same awful personality, he behaves in the same violent, despotic, narcissistic way she did—just with different victims: Kreacher or Severus, for example.

It’s a brilliant little Oedipal case study.

[natalieh007]

Okay I am so into Camus and Sartre beef. So this is a little recap.

So Sartre was Marxist and Camus was not (he was in communist party but he got the fuck out as fast as he could). Also another problem Sartre believed that violence and wars could create greater good, on the other side Camus was all about a peace.

So they were friends (and rivals) for a while and then their different opinions started to show up. Then an argument broke out, but was initially confined to a relatively small group of mutual friends of the two of them. THEN Camus wrote a letter in which he wrote "hell is other people", it was kinda easy to imagine that he was referring to Sartre.

‘Absolute freedom is the right of the strongest to dominate,’ Camus wrote, while ‘absolute justice is achieved by the suppression of all contradiction: therefore it destroys freedom.’ The conflict between justice and freedom required constant re-balancing, political moderation, an acceptance and celebration of that which limits the most: our humanity. ‘To live and let live,’ he said, ‘in order to create what we are.’

That is what Camus wrote in The Rebel and Sartre was like “EWWWW” not very communist of Camus (as far as Sartre was concerned, he thought that it was possible to achieve perfect justice and freedom – that described the achievement of communism. Under capitalism, and in poverty, workers could not be free. Their options were unpalatable and inhumane: to work a pitiless and alienating job, or to die. But by removing the oppressors and broadly returning autonomy to the workers, communism allows each individual to live without material want, and therefore to choose how best they can realise themselves. This makes them free, and through this unbending equality, it is also just. THE PROBLEM is that, for Sartre and many others on the Left, communism required revolutionary violence to achieve because the existing order must be smashed.) And they were close friends at that time so instead of, I guess, TALK IT OUT like Sartre telling Camus „you know what ? I think the rebel was shit” and Camus being like „okay you epitome of hell” or just being like „we don’t have to agree on everything”, Les Temps Modernes – Sartre’s journal (it was edited by him) PUBLISHED LIKE FEW MOTHS AFTER THE LETTER a critical review of The Rebel - sold out three times over. And like it was year 1951 in which Sartre published just one work and it wasn’t successful BUT THE REWIEW FOR SURE WAS (Sartre’s diss track could be banger)

Anyways then Sartre wrote a public letter about Camus. He wrote that their friendship wasn’t easy but he’s gonna miss it AND THAT Camus is philosophically incapable ??

And that was a final straw so they never spoke to each other again.

BUT 15 years after Camus’s death Sartre was asked about their friendship AND Sartre said that Camus was probably his last good friend.

My conclusion is that if they were alive they would love mean girls (don’t ask me why.)

In case u didn’t read The Rebel or you don’t remember, in the book, Camus gave voice to a roughly drawn ‘philosophy of revolt’. This wasn’t a philosophical system per se, but an amalgamation of philosophical and political ideas: every human is free, but freedom itself is relative; one must embrace limits, moderation, ‘calculated risk’; absolutes are anti-human. Most of all, Camus condemned revolutionary violence. Violence might be used in extreme circumstances (he supported the French war effort, after all) but the use of revolutionary violence to nudge history in the direction you desire is utopian, absolutist, and a betrayal of yourself.)

[mydogatemymotivation]

(I tend to ramble and this post ended up getting long so I apologize.) I know this is dumb and totally the wrong thing to focus on during all this but I'm crashing out and I need a distraction.

I feel like I understand Kallus better. Like as a character. I've always loved him but this whole tiktok/xiaohongshu thing has helped me understand him. I know that that's weird but hear me out:

I always knew China wasn't what the government said it was, I've always wanted to learn Mandarin, thought the traditional clothes were beautiful, yadda, yadda. I never understood the narrative about China, I just thought, "there's no way that's all true". But, and its probably because I'm white, I never realized just how deeply ingrained sinophobia really was in the US until I was watching people on tiktok react to what they were seeing on xhs. the "omg, i didn't know what Shanghai looked like", the "wow, Chinese people are, like, normal people" (bruh). But what's insane here and why I thought of Kallus, other than Rebels living in my mind permanently (help), is how quickly the veil lifted for everyone.

It took one (1) night of scrolling for decades of American propaganda to fall apart. Completely. I've always thought these stories about someone learning the truth behind the lie needed to be done over time and from that standpoint I always thought that someone like Zuko had the more realistic story because he took pretty much all of season 2 and half of season three to figure it out. None of this is an insult to Zuko, of course, I think his character arc was done exactly the way it needed to be done. But it felt more realistic because I figured someone who had been subjected to so much propaganda his whole life wouldn't be able to undo all of it in one night, so from that point of view, Kallus' arc felt too quick.

Not anymore. I never considered the "jenga" method. Instead of taking months of work and travel and seeing everything with his own two eyes (methodically removing the lies piece by piece), it took one night where the veil was not lifted, but shredded entirely (the tower toppling because one piece was removed), where there was no one around to stop Zeb from looking Kallus square in the eye and telling him exactly what he needed to hear and showing him what he needed to see. And one night later Kallus went back to the Empire and saw right through everything decades of propaganda had tried to sell him. Imagine you're in a dark room and you finally find a light switch, you flip it, only to realize the room you're in is a disaster. You can turn the light back off if you want but you know what the room looks like now.

Americans got on xhs and were asked if we actually had to pay for ambulances or if that was just communist propaganda, if we really needed two jobs to survive, we saw the price of groceries in China, the advanced technology that's banned in the US, Americans saw a man preparing feed for his pigs and the food was such high quality that we thought it was for someones lunch until we saw the pigs on camera, this week we learned the Chinese don't pay property tax which is why there's less homelessness. Not saying China is a utopia, of course, they're still a dictatorship and all, but the standard of living is so insane. Even as someone who could kind of see that China wasn't what the government said it was, I'm still just floored. Even I didn't realize the difference was that stark. I knew America was atrocious, but this is actually insane.

Apparently I'm processing everything happening in my country through the lens of Star Wars. Because today I'm thinking I understand Kallus like I never have. He didn't need to be convinced, he just had to see the difference for himself. Americans (or in this case citizens from the Core Systems) end up too complacent. At a certain point Kallus' youthful idealism (that he probably had at some point, it seemed like he really wanted the Empire to be what it promised) eventually would've given way to an almost corporate apathy where he clocked into his desk job every morning and went home at night and tried to forget his workday. Disillusioned, but not seeing any way out, and hoping that everything wasn't what he knew it to be deep down.

There's one scene of him that no one ever talks about but it sticks out in my mind. I believe it's at the end of the episode (I don't remember the name) where Vader realizes Ahsoka is alive, he comes back to the Star Destroyer to contact the Emperor and Kallus is shooed away. As he's leaving he stops at the door and glares over his shoulder at Vader before the door shuts. I don't know why that one quick scene stands out to me so much but its one of his standout pre-fulcrum scenes to me and if you blink you miss it. I think it proves that he is disillusioned, that it shows there's a thought process in him that isn't "imperial approved", that he doesn't trust the people in power the same way we don't trust the people in our own government.

I really think Kallus is the best representation of American citizens right now. The thought process he has, the deconstruction, the disillusionment that has nowhere to go, the feeling you're doing something right, knowing deep down you're not, talking yourself into a knot to justify what you can't until eventually the dam breaks. Him leaving the Empire is so much wish fulfillment for a lot of people. Imagine there was an organized rebel movement in the United States right now that had backing, funding, militant organization, and a solid plan to take down the systems in place and tell me right now you wouldn't join the second you had a way in. Makes sense that at the end of the series he tells Pryce that he "stopped betraying himself". He knew, just like we all know.

Anyway. I lost tiktok tonight. Americans lost their first amendment rights tonight, even if you weren't on tiktok you should understand the gravity of this situation. I don't know why my brain has latched onto Star Wars to get me through this but you know what. Whatever.

I might be posting more here. I think I need a place where I can have interaction and discussion with people but we'll see. For now, have a directionless ramble.

[milesobrein]

A Love Story (Trump Brackets Part 2)

So I was watching Trump Brackets! They are absolutely great by the way, if you guys haven’t heard about them. Basically all the people watching young Turks vote weekly on the worst things Trump has said, and they get discussed in a short YouTube video. One of the winners of Week 2 was Trump declaring his love for the communist dictator Kim Jong Un, and I felt the had to do a comic about it. If you guys watch these videos, they give a lot more insight about why Trump can’t be president and after watching it, I’m like wow, how is this guy allowed to run?? He’s a rapist, he’s been impeached twice, has bragged about raping people, put his dead wife’s grave in one of his golf courses for a TAX BENEFIT, says he’ll go against the entire constitution, is willing to have people who speak out against him/ his political opponents be locked up, wanted to have the police shoot protestors coming before his speech, only to use tear gas because they told him he couldn’t do that. He of course wants to greatly diminish the rights of Queer Trans people, further stop people from getting abortions, oh yeah, and he’s locking people up in cages at the border, who are coming to the us from war torn countries, conflicts that the US more often than not *caused*. And Trump has been speaking of having police forces be constant presence, who will come and lock people up I belive who have legally immigrated as well as far as I understand. The man is just disgusting. I cannot belive he’s not being locked in a prison cell *right* now. The man who told everyone to drink bleach in the Covid pandemic and brags about sexual assault. I highly recommend checking out Trump Brackets (also known as What’s the Worst Thing Donald Trump has Done?) and spreading the word anyway you can, wether that’s voting, reblogging this post, or telling your friends and neighbors just a handful of these reasons. Again, it’s not too late, and watching this show will give you instant, easy to digest insights on why this man cannot be our president. If anyone still wants, for every person who posts in the comments they will vote for Kamala, or says they donated to her campaign, I will do an art commission. In solidarity, we can be the rebel alliance we see on TV too! 🔥

here’s a link to Part 2 of What’s the Worst Thing Donald Trump has Done, and if you watch all the episodes, you all can see where I got my facts from, and just how terrible this man is! Spread the word if u can!! I would want this Tumblr to just be about fandoms if I could, but I’m so scared for my our future, that I feel like a bad person if I don’t say/ do something. Thank yall again for your support. And we *do* have power. 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🖖🌟🔥

If you would like another video rec I felt really helped me, here’s a link to a previous post that really helped me understand the situation better. (https://www.tumblr.com/milesobrein/765435705855033344/hey-guys-pls-watch-this?source=share)

🔥

[pinkeoni]

do u realize that st is anti-communist lol

I bet you also think Animal Farm is an anti-communist novel.

Okay, maybe I am giving the show too much credit. This is the same show that just announced their new board game and has already been merchandised to hell and back already. The Duffers are no George Orwell.

But still, there is a difference between what is in the text of the show and how their network chooses to market it.

I can understand where an audience member may see ST as anti-communist, considering that the characters themselves, the heroes of the story that we are meant to root for, are anti-communist. Which makes sense! These are characters living in America during the Cold War with the Soviets. The entirety of the Scoops Troop and Jopper plotlines in season 3 are about bringing down the “evil commies” and Hopper spends most of his time in season 4 being tortured in a Russian prison.

But here’s the thing that most anons seem to be doing, which is conflating the Soviet Union with communism. Saying that Will Byers would be a communist =/= saying that Will Byers would support the Soviet Union. And okay, I may have made that edit of Will in an ushanka, which I did only because editing fictional characters in ushankas is funny. Here it is again:

Let's bring it back to what I mentioned in the very beginning, which is George Orwell's Animal Farm, but specifically the last scene of that novel. The farm animals have successfully led the revolt against the humans, and yet the state of the farm is as bad as it was before, and the pigs are sitting at the table indistinguishable from the humans that they rebelled against in the first place.

Because Orwell's novel isn't saying "communism bad," but rather, the political leaders of the Soviet Union had gone against the original principles they were fighting for.

So the show is definitely anti-soviet, which doesn't equate to anti-communist. To be fair, there isn't much in the show that is expressly pro-communist, but the show isn't really pro-capitalist either. In fact, the show isn't even really that pro-American.

I feel like the ideology of the Cold War was very us versus them, or you're either with us or your against. You are either a red blooded American who is a proud capitalist and uphold the beliefs of your country, or you are a soviet communist pig. But as Papa would say—

The best season to express this is season 3. Season 3 introduces Starcourt Mall— the pinnacle of American consumerism. We learn that the mall has actually been actively hurting the town, causing many local businesses to go belly-up because they just can't compete.

But we also learn that Larry Kline, the mayor of Hawkins, was actually colluding with the Russians the whole time and the mall was a big front for the Russians to conduct their experiments. The point that the show was trying to make is that the same patriotic "All American" man who held a Fourth of July celebration for the town is on the same side as the "Evil Communist Russians."

Let us not forget that this is the same show that said that American government agents were "bad men," and actively used the Reagan/Bush campaign as a symbol of danger. Maybe ST is not the flagship communist show, but it isn't the flagship pro-American capitalist show either.

tagging @aemiron-main since you expressed interest on my poll

Side bar! Did you know that during the Second Red Scare, queer people were labeled as communists and prosecuted, because their lifestyles were considered inherently anti-American, and a security risk to the country? True story!

[ryngwraith]

In your response about military service, you mentioned wasteland comp-het. Do you mind expanding your thoughts on that? Like, what are the differences between pre-war and post-war attitudes, what do you think are he reasons the wasteland is like that? Is it just Boston/the commonwealth? Do you think those attitudes are still around quite universally? How does that impact queer people in the wasteland?

In my mind, nothing cultural necessarily changed in America immediately following the bombs. I would imagine that the atomic-age veneer of 2070's America and the subsequent focus on the nuclear (ha-ha) family meant queer people weren't openly hated or persecuted in prewar America, but socially ostracized and shooed into the closet. There's nothing WRONG with being gay, per se, but are you sure you're not just confused? Rebelling? Propagandized by communist spies? There's two billion Chinese people and only half a million Americans, still shy of a billion counting Canada. It's YOUR DUTY to replenish the generation of kids WE just threw into the meat grinder in Alaska/Gobi/Canada.

After the war the justifications changed but the underlying message stayed the same, especially for women and vault dwellers: stay home, get married, get pregnant, raise the new generation of Americans, be they panicky vault dwellers or resourceful legacy muties.

That being said I don't think that open homophobia is either rampant or ubiquitous. I imagine that (like in our world) proximity to larger population centers makes people less inclined to care, because of greater social progress there, proximity creating familiarity, or simply having other things to worry about. A waster in Vegas, for example, isn't going to give a damn if Old Ben tries to book him for a night, because he's running to pay the Omertas who threatened to break his legs, and it's probably not the first time he's been propositioned that day.

Boston, meanwhile, is a slum to end all slums. It's been over two hundred years and the place is basically a giant hole in the ground full of garbage. There are still skeletons and trash everywhere. It's economically depressed and has no real government, only small bands of survivors - typically nuclear families - eking out a living, eating trash and huddling in shacks. So I always imagined that places like that are sort of the backwoods of postwar America. In contrast to the cosmopolitan jewels like Vegas and the Boneyard, survivors here have very little to do, limited exposure to strangers, and a constant everyday threat of cannibalism, robbery, or just plain murder that makes them highly distrustful of strangers and new ideas.

Ultimately it makes life in these spaces very lonely for many queer wastelanders, who grow up knowing something is different about them but often go their whole lives without learning the tools and language to live their lives authentically. Not all of them though! Opinion on LGBTQ folks in the wasteland tends to improve the closer to NCR one gets, and one trip to Vegas can be enough to get people informed and living their truths.

Cheyenne has never been to California and I haven't played Fallout 2 in about 8 years, so I can't speak on attitudes there, although I know Knight in FNV mentions "friendships" are frowned upon there. And I won't be commenting whatsoever on the Legion; it should go without saying that abusing child slaves and men loving men are not the same thing or really even close, and it's kind of weird to hypersexualize legion men because of their perceived homosexuality when they're about as queer as a bunch of frat boys.

[the-bar-sinister]

Chains of the Dragon (69630 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 13/13

catch up here

-

October 4, 2028– 2:10 pm 

The guard opened the door for Ema and Nahyuta to enter Lady Amara's serene personal chambers. The room was filled with the sound of gently running water. Ema noticed that there was small fountain full of fish at one side of the room, and lady Amara was watching it, with her hands clasped behind her back.

Nahyuta bowed when he entered the room, his brow knit as he announced their presence. 

“Hello Mother. I was told you wished to speak to us.”

Ema stayed quiet…she didn’t trust herself not to snap at the woman right off. Not with the way she spoke to them. To all of them.

"Us?" The placid woman turned, hands still behind her back as she gave them a reproachful glance. "I wanted to talk to you, Nahyuta. But I suppose you leaving your little foreign escort behind was too much to hope for."

Ema bristled, and her jaw went tight as she glowered at Amara with all the ice-cold fury in her heart. Never before did she want to punch someone’s lights out quite this badly. At least not since Damon Gant.

“Ema Skye is a companion of mine– and has been an invaluable and brilliant investigator.” Nahyuta said firmly. “Where I go, she goes.”

Ema sneered at Amara, her hands held up. “Guess you’re going to have to deal with this ‘foreign escort’ for a while, Amara.” 

Amara smiled her icy smile. "Is that so? From the sound of your conversation, it doesn't sound like it will be that long at all."

“We’ve been discussing the situation.” Nahyuta put his hand on his chin, but Ema could see the tension in his shoulders as he smiled as peacefully as he could. “And we feel it may be best to abdicate in the face of our own brothers turning against us.”

Ema crossed her arms. “Given the bomb today they’re starting to get lethally insistent.”

"It's funny, isn't it?" Amara said, turning around away from them. Ema could see her reflection in the water, its expression hidden by its ripples. "How no matter how hard we try to run from it, destiny seems inescapable?"

“I don’t find it very funny at all, ma’am.” Ema’s arms tightened around herself.

Nahyuta closed his eyes in thought. “You’re talking about flames and rebels?” 

"Flames. Rebels. Abdication. The country left in the hands of those not meant to rule it," Amara agreed. Her voice seemed hollow and far away.

“I’m afraid these things seem to happen in cycles.” Nahyuta opened his eyes again. “Mother. The people want to rule for themselves. I don’t want to be a tyrant like Ga’ran by forcing them into the role they don’t wish to follow. Not when it embitters them to Rayfa.”

"I smell smoke on the wind, Nahyuta. I can disagree with your decision. But I cannot blame you. I too, have been ruled by fear."

Ema looked off to the side, her fingers clenching her arm tightly as she listened to them talk.

“I know, mother…but it’s not only fear. It’s hurt. I grew up with a great many of the men who now want to stand against us. If they want to try a different way, it is not my place to stop them. Interpol will ease the transition.”

"More foreigners," Amara said quietly. "We will slowly begin to lose everything that makes our nation, and its people, so distinct, and beautiful. By the time they bury me, there will be a burger restaurant beside the ancient temple."

Nahyuta tensed and Ema put her hand on his shoulder.

“Look, ma’am.” Ema murmured, “I’m sure there’s steps that can be taken to avoid that. But that’s in the hands of the communists, if they want it so bad. I’m sorry. I don’t want your country to lose what makes it distinct either, I’ve loved my time here since I started working with Nahyuta, but I’m not going to leave them to die for a war nobody here wants to fight.” ” 

"My sister would have fought it." There was a mix of emotions in her voice. Anger, sadness, resentment. Resignation. "Much blood would have been shed in the name of Khura'in."

Nahyuta sighed. 

“She would have. And she had…but where did that get us? All those problems we struggle to face without a single ounce of help can be attributed to the blood that spilled at her hands.”

Ema looked down “and if she did, it’d be the blood of your own people, Miss Amara.” 

"I know," Amara said, shaking her head. Still, she didn't look at them. "And I cannot bring myself to pick up the sword either. I have always known I was unfit to rule this country. So this is how the line falls. With an unfit queen, long abdicated, and her unfit children, who flee to America. Such is the way of progress."

Ema grimaced. 

“...unfit.” she murmured “is a harsh way to put it, ma’am.” 

She turned to face them, her hair fluttering behind her as she watched them with a sad, serene, but cold and hard expression.

"Is it not true? Were I fit to rule, would the threat of my life have persuaded me to abdicate? Were Rayfa fit to rule, would she cower before such threats? Were any of us fit to rule– would the people cry out for our blood? Tell me, foreigner, would they?"“I have a name, Amara.” Ema said with a tensing of her shoulders. She put her hand on her hip. “It’s Investigator Ema Skye. And I can’t say I’m some kind of mob whisperer– but I can tell you this much. Rayfa is a teenage girl who’s been abused her whole fucking life, now being told that the people who expected to follow her want to detonate a bomb in her face. You survived a fire with clear goddamn trauma, so it’s no wonder you abdicated when the chance came.”

She snorted softly “...sometimes the thing that’s really ‘unfit’ is the system. You can’t pin all the blame on Rayfa or Nahyuta when it’s clear the people have been suffering under a system that’s been bent out of shape to the point nobody can trust it.” 

"I had hoped that by our will— by my will and by Rayfa's– that we could beat that iron back into shape," Amara said. "But we do not have that power. Rayfa— she takes after her mother, rather than her father, it seems. Content to live a peaceful, quiet life, rather than lead boldly and die bravely."

Nahyuta’s fingers had tightened around his beads again, but his eyes closed tightly. 

“I swore I would protect Rayfa with everything I had, mother…and if it means fleeing , if it means yielding…I’ll make that sacrifice for her.” 

"I can ask you to do no differently." Amara said quietly. "Take her away. Let her lead a long, happy life, away from her people and the responsibilities of the crown, and the danger that it presents. Let her sit quietly in the sun, and let her tend her garden. Let her remember the days of her youth as soft things to be treasured, rather than hard ones that forged her to steel. It's my fault, Nahyuta. I was soft. I loved more than I led. Now the royal family of Khura'in has fallen. May the holy mother help the people of this land. For my daughter can no more than I."

Nahyuta nodded slowly. 

“...I understand, mother. It will be so. We’ll make a new start overseas– and perhaps reconnect with the vestiges of the branch that has long split off and settled there. Maya Fey and her Kurain channelers. The time has come for Khura’in to be ruled by the people.”

Ema sighed with soft relief. “I think Rayfa’ll benefit from something a little less harsh. You know she wants to be a scientist, miss Amara?”

"A scientist. No. That does not shock me. She's long been interested in things like herbs and remedies." Amara shook her head. "I am sorry that I have spoken ill of you, Investigator Skye. My work has been heavy, and my temper short as of late. It's graceless of me– but I have always been found wanting. I beg your pardon."

Ema tensed a little. It still stung, being called a ‘foreigner’ instead of her name, and being dismissed as some kind of bad influence…

But she’d forgiven worse. She swallowed her pride and frustration enough to give the woman a smile. 

“Don’t worry about it. You’re forgiven…alright? It’s been a lot for all of us lately…it’s been driving everyone insane.” She chuckled “...and it’s true. She’s been following me around and asking about the tools of the trade.” 

"That has not escaped my notice." Amara sighed. "She will not want to see me now, before she leaves. That is for the best. I will come and see her again– see her sitting happily in the sun– when matters are settled here."

Nahyuta hesitated.“Are you sure it’s not best if you see her first? Or do you insist on visiting when matters are resolved?”

Amara shook her head. "Seeing her would only weaken both of our resolve. Hers to go, mine to stay."

“Then you insist on staying until the work is done.” Nahyuta ran his hand through his hair “I understand, mother. But be well— and help the Interpol team when they arrive.”

Ema watched them speak with a furrow of her brow. She didn’t exactly like Amara…but she couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that something would go wrong. 

Amara stepped forward, and clasped Nahyuta's hand in her own.

October 4, 2028– 2:25 pm 

Klavier hung up his phone, and looked around the room. At Apollo, who sat pensive in a nearby chair. At Rayfa in the bed, and Trucy beside her. At the door, where Ema and Nahyuta had not yet returned.

"I called in some favors and got a flight chartered," he announced. "They'll be at the airport in five hours."

Trucy whistled as she looked up from talking quietly to Rayfa “wow, that’s the power of a rock god for you, huh?”

With a shifting of her posture, Rayfa leaned her hands on her lap and looked at him with wide eyes “...five hours…that is not enough time to pack nearly everything!” 

"It's not," Apollo agreed. "But we can have the essentials packed and the rest sent over, right? No need to bring everything in one trip."

"Herr horn head has the right idea," Klavier nodded, "I will help you pack if you like, liebchen."

Rayfa shifted on the bed, shimmying back and forth with a thoughtful pout. “i…I can hardly believe I’ll be leaving…” she trailed off “please. I’ve never packed for a long excursion before!” 

He executed a sweeping bow, hoping to entertain her. "Can you stand, liebchen? Let's go to your rooms, and I'll be honored to show you how to pack. You'll need the skill. Once you're in the states we must travel widely and show you all the sights."

She gasped, her hand covering the smile on her face “Y-yes! Actually I command it! We absolutely must!” she rose to stand on legs that were still a little shaky. “But for now you’ve been tasked with instructing me on how to pack!”

“Atta girl, Rayf—uck!” Trucy jolted. “Bonny and Bettty!!!” 

"You called?" a familiar voice demanded. As if on stage cue– Betty stuck her head in the door. "We almost didn't get by the guards with this clown you know?"

Bonny’s head poked out from the other side of the door, her smile bright and cheerful “the clown isn’t me.”

Datz poked his head in below the others. "I guess it's me."

"Datz!" Apollo hopped up from his chair. "We were worried about you!"

Klavier let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He'd known it was unlikely, but still worried that somehow the girls had been caught up in the violence. Thank goodness it wasn't the case.

Bonny smiled lazily and pat his head “...we took a liking. And then a bomb went off.”

“Y-yeah…” Trucy grinned awkwardly. “which is why we’re getting the fuck out of dodge in five hours.” 

"Shorter trip than I expected," Betty said, fully entering the room as she shook her head. "But I guess somebody beat us to the 'burning shit down' punch, huh, Wright?"

Apollo stared at Trucy. "The what punch?"

“THE WHAT PUNCH???” Rayfa shrieked with her hands balled by her sides.

Trucy winced and waved her hands “it’s a figure of speech!”

“We were going to burn the temple…or something…? Right Betty? Wasn’t that what you said?” Bonny mused distractedly.

“Metaphorically!!” Trucy stressed. 

Klavier shook his head, and put his arm around Rayfa. "Come on, liebchen. Let's let them be and go get you packed. I think herr horn head has this under control."

Apollo just made choked noises, and Klavier took that as a 'yes'.

Rayfa puffed out her cheeks , pointing to Betty and Bonny as she passed. 

“You’d best keep your flames to yourselves! Lest you face the wrath of the Priestess of the Holy Mother!”

Trucy watched Rayfa and Klavier go, dropping her head in her hands. “Hoo boy, now she’s got the wrong idea.” 

Klavier patted Trucy on the back as he headed out. "I'm sure you'll give Apollo the right idea, liebchen."

October 4, 2028– 8:30 pm

The five hours truly was not a generous allotment of time. Not with everything that needed to be gathered, and the hour trip to the airport itself. The group raced frantically to pack everything they needed. Datz accompanied Apollo to the law office to gather his things from there. That was where it had transpired that Datz intended to come with him.

Apollo was surprised, but didn't even try to contradict him.

They had an armed guard on the way to the airport, and though they didn't meet any resistance Apollo was glad they were there. The nagging feeling of danger was getting to him, or if not to him, than to Clay.

Klavier had chartered the whole damned jet– the luxurious fop– so they were all in first class. And Apollo let himself drop into his seat as they prepped for take off.

Ema Skye had her hand on her head already, looking out the window beside him with a pensive and almost sick expression.

“At least he chartered the whole damn plane…so we know nobody’s snuck a bomb on board or is hidin’ waiting to assassinate us 1000 feet up.” 

Apollo grimaced. "Thanks for putting that thought in my head… but yeah."

“Sorry, Pollo.” Ema sighed and thunked her head against the seat. “I’m just really on edge…I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible’s gonna happen.” 

He slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah. Unfortunately I know what you mean."

Ema leaned into him with a soft sigh. “you know Amara said she’s gonna stay? For a while at least.” 

"I can't say if I'm surprised or not," he murmured. "With the way she's been acting. And honestly I'm not exactly upset she's not on the plane. But I hope she'll be alright– and Rayfa."

“Yeah…” Ema made a soft ‘tch’ sound. “...she shouldn’t have said all that shit to any of us. Rayfa’s going to take it to heart, I know it.” 

"Yeah," Apollo frowned, and looked over at where Rayfa was having her luggage arranged for her by Klavier and Nahyuta. "I wish we could have done something sooner, but I don't know how we could. Hopefully she'll be alright."

“Hopefully…” Ema rested her cheek against his shoulder with a tired smile. “We can wish we did something sooner, but that’s all hindsight. We had no way of knowin’. Even if she isn’t…we’re gonna make sure she gets better, right? Nahyuta and you too. We’re heading home.” 

"Home…" he murmured. "For a while, I wasn't exactly thinking of LA as home, you know."

It was true. He'd started to think of Khura'in as home again. Not that he'd ever really stopped.

“Home was Khura’in, yeah?” She nuzzled him, the messy waves of her hair falling down his arm. “I can see why…it made a hell of an impression on me, and I didn’t even grow up there.” 

"Yeah," Apollo sighed, leaning on her in return. "For a long time I always thought of Khura'in as home, and LA as just… someplace I lived."

“Even if you’d been gone so long?” Ema asked curiously, looking up at him with her expressive eyes. 

Apollo nodded quietly. 'I wish I could just go home' had been something he'd said to himself in many quiet, terrible moments throughout the years, even when laying in his own bedroom. 'Going home' had always meant Khura'in. 

But now he saw more than ever how impossible that dream had been.

"Yeah. Sorry."

“Why are you sorry?” Ema asked. She laid an arm around him with a soft huff of breath . “fuck , I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you’ve gotta leave your home behind like that…I can relate, you know? I couldn’t go home for a long time myself.” 

He attempted a smile at her. "You know what they say– you can never go home again. At least I sort of got to leave on my own terms this time– and bring the important people with me."

“At least…” Ema squeezed him tighter. “Hey, Apollo…"

"Yeah, Ema?"

“Don’t let what the bitter old lady said get to you.” Her fingers tensed on him. “You weren’t an outsider like she said, okay? I’m sorry we gotta leave your homeland…but …but we’re gonna make the fucking best of it, okay? I promise. We’ve got Yuta and Rayfa with us now…and Klavier.” 

Apollo squeezed her hand, tightly. "I promise, Ema. I wasn't even thinking of taking it to heart. Khura'in has always been my home. I belong there as much as she does. If I didn't have so many people stopping me from throwing my life away— I would have been happy to die there. But I don't want that to happen."

“Good. Nobody wants to you to throw your life away. Not for a cause that’s only gonna cause more suffering especially.” She smiled at him “LA ain’t that bad. We got ramen shops on every corner and a bustling night life!” 

"There's definitely a lot of stuff I like about LA," he promised. "Oh and uh…." He bit his lip and trailed off.

Ema looked up at him again with a half smile “uh? Sorry, don’t got any of that.” 

Apollo flushed and chuckled rubbing his neck embarrassedly. He lowered his voice. "We wanted to talk to you more later. Maybe once we're back in LA. About Clay and everything. Speaking of people stopping me from throwing my life away."

Ema blinked but nodded seriously as she brushed her fingers against his neckline. “yeah…that sounds good to me, Apollo. I’ll be all ears as soon as you’re ready.” 

"Cool," he murmured, leaning on her. "Sorry if I'm weird right now. It's… a weird sort of day."

“I’m feeling pretty weird myself, pal.” Ema chuckled quietly “...part of why I’m leaning on physical affection.”

"It's nice, honestly. I sure can't complain about that. If I fall asleep on you, I apologize in advance."

“Oh no, you might actually convince ME to sleep the whole plane trip instead of drinking my paycheck away at the over priced bar…oh nooo.” 

"Oh no, what a shame," he chuckled. He nuzzled closer to her and close his eyes. "Lets see if I can manage it."

Ema looped her arm around him and settled in for the long haul. 

"Damn you, Justice. I’ll have to fly sober.” 

"I'll make it up to you," he murmured. "We can go drinking in LA."

“Now that sounds good.” Ema chuckled “..I’ll show you my favorite trash bar…I’ll even treat you.” 

October 4, 2028– 8:30 pm

"Well, that was a hell of a lot shorter than I expected," Betty grumbled, relaxing a little once they were in the air. She looked over at her sister, and at Trucy.

“We were hardly there at all, were we?” Bonny sighed “...we only got to enjoy one meal and then gone!”

Trucy looked lost in thought, staring at a small metal object in her hand. With a jolt she looked up and smiled. “well, we couldn’t have predicted the whole bombing situation, yeah? We knew it was bad but this is like, a whole other level.” 

"I mean, obviously," Betty nodded, leaning her chin on her hand. "Seems like we got there in the nick of fucking time, eh?"

“Given that if we waited another day Apollo and Mr. Nahyuta woulda been splattered across the wall? Yeah! I’d say!” Trucy said with a strained laugh.

“Oh dear…that’s true isn’t it?” Bonny bit her lip “it’s kind of scary when you think about it..”

"I'd say its very fucking scary," Betty nodded grimly. "Maybe it was fate or something. Still. a little sad we didn't get to look at any cursed relics or anything. Still– i guess its not like we didn't bring home any prizes."

Bonny noticed her sister looking in Nahyuta's direction.

“The monk…?” Bonny put her hand on her chin. “He is pretty …prizey.” 

Handsome, more like. To be completely honest with herself it was kind of sending her reeling to know they were taking a literal actual prince home with them.

Trucy looked at them with a raise of her eyebrow “....you’ve got the hots for my brother’s devout priest boyfriend?” 

Betty made a choked sound and looked away. "Are you kidding?"

Her sister knew that meant she definitely did.

Once more she couldn’t blame her– he was super hot. Bonny put her finger to her chin. She had to do something, or Betty would suffer embarrassment at Trucy’s hands.

“No! She thinks he’s…..” she paused for a moment before she said “stuffy.” 

"Yeah," Betty nodded, not looking back. "Surprised we managed to get him to get on the plane. You going to hold him for ransom?"

“Do you want to, Betty? I can get the trick ropes…” Bonny chimed up with a broad smile.

“I mean….maybe a little” Trucy tossed the small metal object in the air before catching it again. “He did take Apollo away for way too long, it might be fun to tease him a bit.  But I don’t think we’re getting the ransom cash from Khura’in, given the whole revolution thing.” 

"Well. If you want me to break his kneecaps anyway, I'll consider it," Betty chuckled.

“So you can take care of him to earn some points, Betty?” Trucy shot a teasing grin over at her. “you know, nursing the guy back to health?”

Bonny flushed, she hadn’t thought of that…it wasn’t the worst idea. Maybe really mean…no, maybe it was the worst idea, in retrospect. 

"Uh, no! Obviously not," Betty said, turning red. "Ugh, you're really selling this thing. Maybe YOU have a crush on him. Maybe that's why you didn't burn down his temple or whatever."

Trucy laughed. “I mean he is pretty cute~. I’d never say no to a prince.”

She held her hand to her lapel, pinning something Bonny couldn’t see to it again. 

“I m-mean you’re kinda like royalty yourself, Miss Trucy!” Bonny chimed in. 

"You're gonna give her a big head if you talk like that, Bon."

“W-well I mean— it’s kinda true!” Bonny waved her hands in the air with a timid smile “The Gramar—”

She noticed the way Trucy’s smile faltered for only a second before burning bright again. “Yeah well, that makes you two my Royal Entourage, right? Maybe I should start extorting backrubs out of your or something.” 

"Bonny can give you backrubs, and I'll be the one that dresses in your clothes to prevent assassinations," Betty said with a grin that was almost a sneer. Unlike Bonny, she was… unafraid to make a tasteless joke in a dark situation.

Trucy snorted out loud, and covered her mouth with a snicker. “Geeze, you’re a peach Betty. Gonna take the dagger for me? Or turn it into a bunny rabbit?” 

"That second one," she grinned. "Or maybe I'll just fight 'em off. I'm not one for getting sliced and diced."

“Betty’s always been a good fighter!” Bonny leaned over her sister’s shoulder with a smile. The truth was they both were…but that didn’t exactly lend to her cute stage presence.

“Oh hoo? I might have to have you fight some of my battles then.” Trucy leaned on her hand with a winning grin…a strange badge glinted on her lapel and caught Bonny’s eye for a moment, before she continued. “if for nothing else than it’d be kinda hot to watch.” 

Betty flushed again, but this time leaned in toward Trucy. "Oh so that's how it is, eh?"

Bonny’s nose wiggled a little as she listened, flushed a deep pink and smiling her lazy smile .

Trucy tapped her nose, meeting her eyes. “and if it was?” 

"Hey, what's this?" Betty dodged the question, if not skillfully then at least thoroughly. It seemed she had noticed the same pin Bonny had, and made a grab for it.

“Ahhh!!” Trucy grabbed her hand suddenly, this time being the one to flush a deep pink. “h-hey! It’s …it’s my badge! An attorney’s badge from Khura’in!” I got it before everything exploded!” 

"Oh shit! You actually managed to get ahold of one?" Betty demanded. She didn't take her hand off Trucy's chest. "Guess the plan would have gone fine if not for those rebels." 

“I had a study session with the Judge and he gave it to me.” Trucy leaned forward into her hand with a grin “I’m…or I guess , very briefly was, a real attorney of Khura’in!”

“Wow….it’s too bad you didn’t get to defend a single case.” Bonny puffed her cheeks in a little pout. 

"Well, at least it didn't waste a lot of time, right?" Betty shrugged. "Now we can get back to practice."

“Practice makes perfect in the world of showbiz!” Bonny agreed cheerfully…but Trucy glanced off to the side.

“Yeah well…I mean…of course we can get back to practice…”

Betty raised an eyebrow, finally backing off of Trucy's personal space a bit. She gave Bonny a questioning 'do you know what this is about' look.

Trucy’s smile seemed to falter when Betty finally took her hand off her, and she shrugged.

Bonny shook her head with a perplexed smile. She had absolutely no idea…

“But I was thinking of talking to my dad about m-maybe getting some lessons and trying to pass the California Bar too..” 

Betty stared at her in disbelief. "Wait, what?"

Bonny stared with her, the two sisters a perfect mirror of confusion.

“I mean I’m not quitting magic or anything, I just…I thought the law I studied was super interesting!”

"Huh." Betty plopped in her seat and scratched her chin, glancing at Trucy. "Whatever you say, boss."

Bonny knew that attitude– Betty thought something was up with Trucy, but wasn't going to push it.

She bit her lip…she waffled on pushing or not, her head tilting to the side and back as her brow furrowed.

Trucy seemed to notice “...I’ll tell you guys all about it back in LA okay?”

"Fine by me," Betty said, pulling a sleep mask out of her pocket. "I'm going to catch some shut eye and maybe harass our apparently permanent tour guide later."

“Oh! Can I join you Betty?” Bonny asked with wide eyes “he was fun!”

Trucy laughed. “Enjoy, bunnies. I’ll be…around. Got some stuff to take care of~” 

October 4, 2028– 8:35 pm

For the moment, Klavier had the aisle seat, with Rayfa at the window, and Nahyuta between them. He leaned on the armrest and smiled.

"So, mein engel. I know you're a seasoned flyer, but I assume this is Rayfa's first time?"

“It certainly is.” Nahyuta chuckled as he glanced over at his sister “she hasn’t ever left the country, as far as I’m aware.”

“N-never.” Rayfa sniffed, staring out the window with wide eyes. The whole of the takeoff…she’d been a nervous wreck. Buckled tightly in, shaking, and snapping whenever anyone dared to insinuate she was nervous…but once the turbulence of takeoff eased, she had relaxed considerably.

Now she just couldn’t tear her eyes off of the sky beyond. “I’ve always wanted to ride in a plane.” 

"Pretty cool, isn't it, ja?" Klavier grinned. "This is going to be a long one. Most plane rides are much shorter. You may get all the plane ride you ever wanted this first time."

Rayfa laughed, looking at him over her shoulder with a bounce of her hair and a broad grin “I doubt that. It feels as close to the twilight realm as the living can get up here. Seeing the world stretched out under us…”

“It reminds you how much there is beyond Khura’in.” Nahyuta mused as he rubbed his fingers on his prayer beads. 

"There's a whole hell of a lot, ja," Klavier said with a smile. "LA itself– just the city, is bigger than Kura'in. And then there's California, the US, Europe. I love traveling, really."

“Perhaps I can count on you then?” Nahyuta asked with a smile “to show us those places, and more.”

“I’ll defer to your wisdom, gold head!” Rayfa pointed at him. “So you'd best not take me somewhere boring!” 

"You can count on me, liebchen. My friends will tell you– I am many things. But never boring." He smiled– both at Rayfa, and Nahyuta.

Nahyuta chuckled into his hand with a trace of something impish in his eyes. 

“Yes you proved that in the market…before the whole commotion.”

Rayfa’s head tilted to the side “huuuuh?” 

"I got your brother backed into a bit of a corner," Klavier chuckled.

“What!!?” Rayfa sat bolt upright to look at Nahyuta “you let Klavier get the better of you, braid head? What of your pride!!”

Nahyuta actually started to turn a light shade of pink as his eyes widened. “Rayfa. Please!” 

Klavier laughed and couldn't resist a little teasing. "Don't be too hard on him. I got him by surprise."

“Klavier!” Nahyuta sighed, and shook his head. “I assure you, I won’t be surprised again.”

Rayfa stared at them with her uncanny green eyes, before they widened and she sputtered in quiet disbelief. “you two…. You…you…” 

Klavier laughed. "It's nothing to trouble yourself with, I assure you liebchen. A friendly rivalry perhaps."

“I think she’s already figured out the truth of the matter, Klavier. She’s perceptive.” Nahyuta shook his head with a long-suffering smile . 

Klavier felt his own smile stiffen. He had gone too far. As usual. "Ah. I hope I haven't embarrassed you too badly, then. Forgive me."

Rayfa turned pink before puffing her cheeks and peering out the window “I certainly don’t mind. I am not the guard to my brother’s heart.”

With a low huff of breath, Nahyuta glanced at Klavier and winked “as you see. She gives her blessing for your next attempt to surprise me, Klavier Gavin.” 

"I'm pleased to have your blessing, ja?" Klavier said, his grin returning. "I realized I actually don't know how such things are seen in your country."

“Hmm?” He tilted his head towards him.

Rayfa’s attention was caught once more as she tore her gaze from the clouds and stared at Klavier. “romance?” 

"Your reaction makes me suspect the answer is 'differently'," he said, feeling oddly self conscious. "Since I mean romance ah, between people of the same sex."

Rayfa punched her fist with a quiet ‘oh!’ before she asked. “ Is it frowned upon in your country, gold head?” 

"Ja, uh, probably good to talk about it now then," Klavier said, rubbing his neck. "It's considered socially embarrassing, and not something talked about in polite company."

“Oh my…” Rayfa’s brow furrowed “but how could it be seen as more impolite than any other relationship?”

“...ah.” Nahyuta nodded slowly with his eyes closed “it’s different in Khura’in. There isn’t a cultural shame about it, it’s seen as a relationship like any other…but one should always temper expression of said love in public, as it is considered rude to allow it to overflow with little control or constraint in public.” 

Klavier waved his hand. "I don't mind about that if you don't. Though we might end up on the front page of the tabloids. I only keep my face polite when my lovers ask me too."

Admittedly, as of so far in his life, that had been all of them.

“Woah…” Rayfa flushed “...you mean you can get my brother on the front page of your country’s newspapers with just a kiss?” 

Nahyuta cleared his throat “I'll endeavor to keep that in mind, ‘Gold head'." he teased lightly. “Wouldn’t do to make too much of a fuss, no?”

"That's what I'm told," Klavier chuckled. Flustered, he brought the subject back around. "In any case, I will happily show you both around, and I promise not to be boring."

“Good!” Rayfa nodded once before she leaned over her brother to look at him with a smile “so what sorts of things might I expect in LA?”

"Well, liebchen, here I am an expert!" Klavier settled in to do what he did best. 

Entertain.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mk-writes-stuff!

Personality Through Quotes Tag

My prompt is, “A quote about their thoughts on the other classes/castes of their society”

This is gonna get funky with the practicing Illarians, because the religious view of wealth is that the gods give fortune to people they like better. Also, half these people live under a feudal system, so there's that too.

Izjik: "Class is a funny thing, I've always thought. We're all one society; why don't we share things equally so everyone benefits? That's how we did it in Edeme’eneha."

Sepo: "There are many evils in this world - class is not the most pressing for me."

Twenari: "I wouldn't call myself a political extremist, but I don't think that just because the gods show favor through fortune, that means the rich can treat the poor however they want."

Djek: "Wanna move up in society? Rob a bank. It's easy, you just gotta have initiative!"

Astra: "Down with debtor farms! Down with feudalism! Us little folk are damn tired a' bein' walked on and it's about time those high and mighty nobles learned what it feels like to have a boot on their neck!"

Mashal: "The gods bless certain people with luck and those people get to move up in the world. I do think that it's the nobility's responsibility to help the less fortunate."

Ivander: "You're poor? That sucks. Have you tried making good financial decisions?"

Elsind: "The nobility are inherently corrupt. Power and money breed evil and... and it's my duty to keep that corruption from crushing any more people."

Avymere: "The serfs work to support the nobility. The nobles work to protect the serfs. This pact has been sufficient for generations, even though in the modern day, it may require some adjustments."

Yeahhhh, there's some varied opinions in there. I mean, Izjik grew up in a communist utopia, Mashal and Twenari are pious Illarians, Astra and Elsind are both part of a rebel group fighting against the aristocracy, Avymere is said aristocracy, and Ivander is just, you know, Ivander.

I'll tag @elsie-writes @mysticstarlightduck @bluewritesbadly @cssnder and anyone else who wants in :)

Your prompt is a quote about siblings

[socialistpunk]

The ego and its gates: Gatekeeping as an act of violence.

I'm currently writing an essay on Man, Society and Freedom by Bakunin but before it, I wanted to point out a smaller issue that may or may not pose as an example of the state of things and the rebel individual. I'm taking about gatekeeping, specially art and theory. In this micro-essay I'm going to display the potential reasons for it, the irony in it, why is it wrong and what to do about it.

Gatekeeping, as a concept, involves limiting access to something. It can be used synonymously with words such as censoring or filtering. Gatekeeping is often utilized as a critique of news outlets, political propaganda, and the state apparatus. While it is indeed an important phenomenon, it is not the focus of this essay. Rather, this essay aims to highlight a different phenomenon—one that is produced due to the state of things, not necessarily the state itself.

Generally, mainstream media gatekeeps alternative and revolutionary art and theory, deeming it dangerous. However, we are now witnessing a reversal of this phenomenon, as alternative and revolutionary scenes become gatekeepers of what was previously kept from them by mainstream media. For practicality's sake, we will refer to this group of alternatives and revolutionaries (including punks, communists, leftists, and those outside the establishment) as comrades, and the general public as, well, the "general public."

A comrade may gatekeep a theory book, an author, or most commonly, a song, a painting, or a movie on platforms like social media, especially TikTok. They label those who engage with these works as naive or stupid, believing they may somehow harm the things they are gatekeeping simply because they are not as knowledgeable or skilled as the comrade. These judgments are often based on subjective thoughts. This phenomenon is akin to what is typically referred to as gatekeeping in communication theory*.

While watching a music video by Slowdive, I came across a comment that explicitly said, "Keep this from TikTok kids," which infuriated me. Before I explain why, let me share another example. Back when I had Twitter (before the introduction of blue checkmarks and other restrictions), I encountered a tweet showcasing books found in the TikTok Books section of a store. The original poster claimed that literature was ruined because books like Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment" were displayed alongside TikTok-famous books.

The reason this angers me is that, as a philosopher, comrade, and artist myself, the purpose of creating and consuming media for me is to break through the barriers of the original gatekeeping and the societal consciousness imposed on teenagers, kids, and people in general. When I was a child, reading was considered incredibly strange, and delving into Dostoevsky would have been even weirder (although I wish I had done so as a teenager). Even reading books like YA fiction or Harry Potter was deemed nerdy or uncool. Now that kids are starting to read more and teenagers are moving away from popular and reggaeton music to Slowdive (which serves the same purpose of pushing boundaries), we are calling for the protection from the general public of these things. Isn't it ironic

This is individualism and liberalism at its worst. Even if you are not a leftist, what is the point of gatekeeping things that you know are not mainstream? Wouldn't that allow more people to engage with the things you like? Well, yes, but the comrade would then start to like it less, as the general public makes them uncomfortable. Comrades are accustomed to crossing boundaries, but there is an abundance of art and theory to explore, and we still have a long way to go as a society. Indulging in individualism and feeding our egos will not benefit education or society as a whole.

Remember, we are constantly being gatekept by the market, an overpowering force that dictates what art we can create based on what the market and the general public desire. Gatekeeping, in terms of communication, aims to disseminate information (or disinformation) without allowing for explanations or expecting feedback—it simply exposes the information. This is the actual problem in today's democracy and social media (which I will further discuss in Bakunin's essay).

This essay addresses a minor issue that encompasses gatekeeping as a whole. I want to portray this aspect since it is often overlooked in the conventional representation of gatekeeping. While we may criticize everything gatekeeping represents in its original sense, we may, at the same time, be gatekeeping things that go against it. Revolution can only occur through the masses. So, let the masses listen to Slowdive* and read, even if it means delving into works like "Crime and Punishment," which might evoke feelings of melancholy.

*: Read "Gatekeeping (Communication)" definition on Wikipedia

*2: Slowdive may not be the best representation of leftist art, but I just want to show how the so-called alternative scene in all camps of art is gatekeeping.

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Okay gals and pals this is for the Fender lovers.

So- me as a hungarian- Im going crazy cause we having a rep in COD made me be just a little bit obsessed with Fender. And i was just wondering...that the math ain't mathing in his bio. I mean i can be stupid but here me out

So we kinda got his birth date, but i don't think the creators meant this like DECADES before 1989 right? I guess he was born soemwhere in the 80s.

BUT.

A revolutionary in Soviet Pest? Ma'am, that is true that Hungary was in fact under communist control but.....what revolution? Where? Our last revolution was in the 50s 💀

And so. Even if his parents (idk if his mother was too, or it just refers to his unknown father but) even if they were already alive by 56 they at least should have been teens. Or in their 20s cause the Pesti Srácok, the youth who fought againt the communist were aged mostly from 15 to 20-something. And if their parents were in their teens, young adulthood in the 50s then +30 years before having a child is massive.

Let's say they were 15 in 1956, and Fender was born in 1980 (which as i said is unlikely, why would they write a decade range for his birth) then by the time Fender was born they are 39. Which is not very ideal for a first child. Maybe if it was his father, but still. Mentioning the revolution in his bio that his parent(s) were/was a part of it is useless by this logic.

Or am I the fool and it's all good? It is weird just for me? They could have easily write something like "a RESISTANT parent in communist times" cause yeah, there were always some who rebelled and resisted the regime. But to link them back to the 56's revolution is just too strange for me. If any other person who knows about this time period in hungary has any idea about this please help me out cause I'm a bit helpless with this right now.

[nicklloydnow]

“My admiration for both of these eminent writers developed in isolation of one another — but I have always unconsciously identified them as the same sort of writer, and indeed, the same sort of person. There are various superficial similarities: the TB diagnosis that prevented both of them from joining the armed forces, the foreign birth, the rampant womanising, the shared hatred of fascism and suspicion of communism. Much more importantly, they seemed to share the same outlook. Both of these writers took the view that truthfulness was more important than ideological allegiance and metaphysics, that the facts should be derived from the real world, rather than the world of ideas. They were similar stylistically too: both wrote candidly, clearly and prolifically.

(…)

Both Camus and Orwell are rightly credited with being “antitotalitarian” writers. And yet their reasons for being so are not wholly political. They were antitotalitarian not just because they opposed totalitarian regimes, but because they both understood that the totalitarian mindset requires you accept that truth comes from ideology. If the ideas say something is true, it becomes true, and is true. For Fascists and Communists, ideology is not merely a set of values or beliefs, but a cohesive explanation of the past, present and future of mankind. This is what Camus referred to in The Rebel as the desire “to make the earth a kingdom where man is God”. Orwell and Camus both understood the dangers of such thinking, and sought to repudiate it in their work.

Ironically enough, neither Orwell nor Camus really believed in objective truth. Orwell, despite being a champion of free expression and the speaking of truth to power, acknowledged that “objective truth” itself was an “illusion”, albeit a beneficial and “powerful” one. Equally, Orwell remarked that totalitarian ideology “demands a disbelief in the very existence of objective truth”. The key word here is “disbelief”. For Orwell, truth was more of a commitment to reality than a philosophical framework for deciding true from false. Indeed, perhaps this is why in Nineteen Eighty-Four, all Winston’s attempts to formulate a definition of truth ultimately fail. But this is precisely the point. Orwell understood that truth was a mentality, not a formula.

For Camus, the story was the same. In his Nobel Prize banquet speech, he said the following:

Truth is mysterious, elusive, always to be conquered. Liberty is dangerous, as hard to live with as it is elating. We must march toward these two goals, painfully but resolutely, certain in advance of our failings on so long a road.

His conception of truth was the same as Orwell’s. For Camus, truth was an unreachable summit, but one worth climbing for. Truth, for Orwell and Camus, was a destination towards which it was better to travel hopefully than to arrive.

(…)

It seems that this anxiety Orwell and Camus had about the truth is as prescient today as it was in 1945. But it raises an important question: how can an individual think truthfully in a world dominated by untruthful narratives?

Towards the end of his novel La Chute, Camus’ narrator ponders this question:

Don’t lies eventually lead to the truth? […] Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.

Here Camus struck a critical distinction, not just between truth and untruth, but between ways of thinking about the problem. While he embraced the fact that truth can never be fully or directly known, Camus conceptualised truth as an internal struggle, against the need for the absolute certainty provided by the “beautiful twilight” of falsehood. Ironically enough, then, Camus’ idea of real truthfulness lay in uncertainty, and in diligently maintaining an awareness of that fact. In other words, truthfulness means thinking in good faith, in honest suspicion of even the most appealing of narratives.

Orwell’s work seems to proffer a similar conclusion. In Nineteen Eighty-Four Winston takes solace in the idea of an internal self-awareness.

He was a lonely ghost uttering a truth that nobody would ever hear. But so long as he uttered it, in some obscure way the continuity was not broken. It was not by making yourself heard but by staying sane that you carried on the human heritage.

Orwell – ever the protestant humanist – placed a great deal of faith in the idea of the sceptical conscience. In the world of the novel, “staying sane” meant remaining critical, even if only in secret. It isn’t Winston’s ability to say two and two make four that allows him to rebel: it’s because despite the universally believed falsehoods purveyed by the state, Winston continues to think diligently and honestly.

For both of these writers, the truth was less a metaphysical question than an attitude. Their novels revolve around the quotidian, everyday experience of the world, in things rather than in ideas. They were both much more concerned with the facts that could be taken from experience than those that could be thought up through ideology. This was the attitude that sustained them throughout their intellectual lives, and united them as figures. And it’s for this reason that I like to think of them as friends, although their paths never crossed.”

“If you have enough power, you can make people believe things which are not true. And your lies may last for centuries, or even forever.

Yet it need not be so. One dark winter’s afternoon, long ago, in the age of steam trains and suet puddings, one of my prep-school teachers (I think it must have been the fearsome Mr Witherington, withering by nature as well as by name) pressed into my hand a small green book which would turn my whole world upside down.

‘Read this,’ he said. ‘It will teach you to understand history as it really is.’

The book is called The Daughter Of Time by Josephine Tey, herself a rather mysterious woman about whom we know astonishingly little.

The title is a reference to Sir Francis Bacon’s remark that ‘Truth is the daughter of time, not of authority’, which should be better known.

It is in a way the single greatest detective story ever written. Those who know of it belong to a considerable secret society, which is still far too small, of lucky people. Those who have not yet read it have a great treat, and a great shock, in store.

(…)

I won’t repeat the piece-by-piece demolition of the case against Richard, and the growing mountain of evidence against his sly successor, Henry VII, which piles up as the case proceeds. I am rather hoping that some of you will get hold of The Daughter Of Time and read it yourselves, and do not want to spoil it for you.

For there is a much deeper point to all this. We all take far too much on trust.

(…)

And once you know all this, you feel, at least I feel, the unending urge to question any commonly accepted idea about the past or the present.

Whether it is the Covid panic (wildly out of proportion), who really won the American War of Independence (the French), the true nature of the ‘Good Friday’ Agreement (a vast surrender to terror under American pressure) or the current conflict in Ukraine (some other time), I now always remember the defamation of Richard III, and rebel against any view which is held by everybody.

Sometimes, it is true, everyone is right.

(…)

But look deep into most of the other things you believe and you will find that it was not quite like that, and in some cases was wholly unlike what you have been led, all your life, to believe.

(…)

You see, it never stops, and it never will, so the rest of us must never stop questioning what we are told.

Thank you, Mr Witherington.”

“Regular readers here will know of my great liking for the detective stories of Josephine Tey, and above all for her masterpiece ‘The Daughter of Time’. I’m always amazed that so many people have never heard of Josephine Tey or of this extraordinary, life-changing book. So it seemed to be a good choice for a programme where two guests, and the presenter Harriett Gilbert (herself a member of a distinguished literary family) try to persuade each other of the virtues of books they like.

I found myself describing ‘The Daughter of Time’ as ‘one of the most important books ever written’. The words came unbidden to my tongue, but I don’t, on reflection retreat from them. Josephine Tey’s clarity of mind, and her loathing of fakes and of propaganda, are like pure, cold spring water in a weary land. Her story-telling ability is apparently effortless (and therefore you may be sure it was the fruit of great hard work. (As Ernest Hemingway said ‘if it reads easy, that is because it was writ hard’). But what she loves above all is to show that things are very often not what they seem to be, that we are too easily fooled, that ready acceptance of conventional wisdom is not just dangerous, but a result of laziness, incuriosity and of a resistance to reason.

The other two books, well, I’ll leave you to listen, though I would say that ‘A Landing on the Sun’ was to me a very sad and distressing book, and I’d like to know a lot more about how it came to be written. In fact, I suspect that serious biography of Michael Frayn would be very well worth reading. As for ‘What’s my Motivation?’, I didn’t want or expect to enjoy it, yet I did, and I would never have opened it (the awful cover is enough to put most people off) had it not been Harriett Gilbert’s choice.”

[comradeupdog]

Just saw an anti-communist post that makes me want to bang my head on the wall. It basically said a bunch of revolutions were actually bad because working people got killed in them not just rich people. Like yeah: most revolutions involve a civil war and foreign wars. Just like the US Civil War, most of those fighting for the oppressing class are not of that class (like how the vast majority of confederate soldiers were not themselves enslavers). Yet, they stand in the way of liberation and often meet the same fate as the oppressor. In the same way I’m not going to say we shouldn’t have fought the Civil War to end chattel slavery because some people who were not southern aristocrats got killed, I’m going to say that Bolsheviks were justified in killing some workers who fight in the pogromist white army or worked as spy’s for them.

Also, just the historical illiteracy in this country sucks so hard because this fucking post said that the Red Army took over Russia… the Red Army that was formed 3 months after the Bolshevik Revolution to fend off invasion and foreign back rebels. All of which happened after the Soviets had voted power to a Bolshevik- Left Social Revolutionary coalition which acted to dismantle the very unpopular provisional government which was keeping Russia in an unwindable war to please foreign capital. Like I get it your anti-communist, you think the Bolsheviks did a coup or whatever helps you not think about the fact that when propaganda is stripped away a majority of working people will flock to communism, but at least accuse an organization which existed at the time.

[juiceastronaut]

It's not letting me respond to blog posts of yours ig, so I will respond here!

I enjoy these discussions too, I encourage you to do other stuff while I'm responding to your messages, cause it might take a while.

Just to clarify, I do not think people's desire to grow is utopian, I think there is a very real case for that existing in all people. It appears to me that the reason people did hard jobs when religion was more important is because they had 'fear' of punishment, that punishment wasn't literal but a fear that they wouldn't be allowed into heaven, a fear of the almighty, so they did what was asked of them by lets say the king because of the whole divine right of kings thing. When there is no incentive of punishment or monetary gain people are forced to do the hard jobs. You most obviously saw this in Stalin's Russia. In place of religion, personality cults were formed around these leaders that made them a god-like figure which acted in pretty much the same way as 'god' does in Christianity. So even when it was communist an incentive was still required. Is that reasonable? People do gravitate towards interpersonal communities, and they will generally help friends without expectation of a reward. But this is a tangible gift, to somebody you have a personal connection with. While in practice without incentive, it is an intangible act of service (the worker will not be able to tangibley see the fruits of his labour). Furthermore, he is working for the benefit of people he doesn't know. Having faith isn't enough to run a country. Sorry I took so long to reply, thanks again for chatting! I will give that video you recommended a watch.

So now it seems we're expanding our reach out a bit. I was answering on a more interpersonal level, but I'll answer on a wider scale too.

In the case of the Church, it's sort of a funny thing, because they acted as Every social service that we think of today. They were the doctors, therapists, and even prisons (the punishment of being sent to a monastary? That wasnt a cop out to grow as a person). A fear of not getting into heaven may have influenced these people in the Church, but they didnt *need* to become monks/nuns to get into heaven, plenty of people were still religious without being those things. But they did it anyway. Priests were the highest recorded deaths of the Black Plague because they were handling the bodies so much. No amount of "incentive" would force someone to do that

And on that note, any recorded instance of people protesting/rebelling against fascistic governments would have plenty of incentive to not do that, but they did it anway.

Capitalism as a system begets its own exploitation. It thrives on individualism and isolation so people distinctly *dont* think outside of themselves, and that everyone else thinks the same way. Faith cant run a country, but your goal is going to shape how you interact with your citizens. It seems so Utopian to think outside this because of how pervasive it is, and how the predominte philosophies in America hold it up.

I do want to bring up a point that I made before. Before, I remembered you said "those with/without value should be treated differently."

Value is a word that's used to systemically deny the rights of disabled people because they werent "contributing" enough to society. When you say it, I recognize that you have your own definition to what value means, but culturally, that usually means how productive you are to the system. Theres often a resentment if disabled people for not being productive enough member of society.

You dont have to respond to it, but I'd want you to really think about how disabled people specifically fit into this conversation, whether thats in the have/not category, and what "treat them differently" would mean in their case specifically.

Most of Contrapoints videos is pretty good, obviously more of Khadija. Philosophytube, F.D Signifier, Alexander Avila, Mickey Atkins (if you want more of a psychology bent), are all good video essayists from multiple queer/poc backgrounds :)

[enigma-absolute]

13 and 3 for the ask game, perhaps??

3. What tropes do you like writing about the most? (´▽`ʃƪ)

That's honestly a good question, now that I look over my works, both original and fic. I think the thing that crops up the most in both sections is legacy - legacy characters, roles and how we all deal with it and inherit it. I think it really comes from my own experience of being the first freeborn daughter of two different families who escaped Communist Romania prior to the revolution, and the struggles they had to get their freedom. It gives me a lot to think on family legacy in my case, both ancestral and more personal, as I have found myself associating with my mom's inheritance more than I could my dad's.

In the Eagle's Cross Eddsworld universe, Cora and her siblings in the titular series have different ways of reacting to and embracing their ancestors' adventurous, if admittedly outlandish, histories and personalities. In 'The Christmas Calamity,' Jaxx (one of the main characters) is first trying to outright refuse it, but eventually comes to fall in love with it on his own terms and terms he has to redefine. Cora herself in 'The Eagle's Cross' has still to unravel some (honestly very opaque) mysterious past with her ancestors and dragging in her little sister and her own best friend into it.

In my own original detective show, the main detective and her 'Watson' partner are chasing after her hero's own mysteries to solve and eventually have to come up and fight against his enemies; leading the way to find out that her hero's adventures, mysteries and stories entwine closely to her own history and potentially taking up the mantle he sacrificed to save her life.

With Maddox Darling and his adventures in the Galaxy Far Far Away, it's more subtle. The Peter Pan references and links are on purpose, but they're not direct or in-your-face (his surname, the pin he constantly wears from his sister, etc). That being said, while he does have Peter Pan tendencies, his role is more of a Wendy Darling situation, honestly. He'll grow up eventually, but it doesn't mean he'll forget his loves nor stop adventuring. His legacy is more about what he leaves behind on the galaxy's inhabitants circa the Imperial and Rebellion era, but also the kind of legacy they leave on him and how he'll eventually take it home. That's why I love doing RP with him, because he's literally quite a character to Throw Into Situations and I'm figuring out his canon as I go along.

13. Drop a playlist for a story! ♪♡♪

Speaking of Maddox, here's his (slightly old) origin story playlist! I'd crafted it when I was very early on in writing him and did it as part of a character challenge to develop him a little more, so I'll be explaining songs in chapters under the cut.

Life in Aus before the GFFA: Down Under by Men at Work and Slice of Heaven by Dave Dobbins

Going to the GFFA: Starlight Brigade by TWRP feat. Dan Avidan

Settling into the Rebellion and Rebel Life: Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede

Infiltrating the Ship and Imperial Capture: Last Surprise (Cover by Arc Tournament, feat Casey Lee Williams), Eide+Eide Fight (NITW OST)

The Amnesia Process: The Mind Electric by Miracle Musical, Unknowable (NITW OST)

Waking up, Wrecking up and Escaping the Empire's ship, Roaming After the Escape Pod Crash: Black (Homestuck cover by RichaadB), Run! (NITW OST), Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

Reaching through the Force and Recovering Memories: Thirteen (Doctor Who OST, Series 11)

Back to the Rebel Base and Into Regret (I Should Never Have Left Home): Shut Eye by Stealing Sheep, Timshel by Mumford and Sons, I Was Wrong by The Oh Hellos

Amnesia Aches, Grief with Benny and Learning to Grow: Ghost by Ellie Drennan, The Doctor’s Theme (Doctor Who OST, Series 1-2), I Have Made Mistakes by The Oh Hellos

Call to Hope and Adventure Once Again, To Be Continued (I Will Remember and Grow as I Go): And Straight On Till Morning by Marianas Trench, Binary Sunset (A New Hope OST, particularly the horns at the dual suns), Call Me (Cover by Sebastian Böhm)

[aspiringbelle]

I recently was listening to my parents listen to a noted conspiracy theorist on YouTube, and it’s interesting. On the one hand, he was critical of the CIA, believing they killed JFK and RFK. On the other hand, he was critical of the CIA trying to promote itself as an inclusive, feminist place, which he felt would not serve what the President wants. (He’s a Trumpist, naturally.)

He called Anthony Bourdain a “deep state chef”, forgetting Bourdain being highly negative towards Kissinger.

He said Wes Anderson’s films did not make money. A simple Google search proves otherwise. (His most egregious error was when he stated that the director of “The Island of Dr. Moreau” went off to be with communist rebels. The movie in question was filmed in Queensland.)

Then again, conspiracy theorists like him often contradict themselves..l