#childe is always striving to be better even if it's at his own detriment

[steelhazes]

childe and iguazu really are the two sides of the same coin holy SHIT

[mc-critical]

I love to boring you but what do you think of Murad IV in MC:Kosem ? I really like him but he seriously need of a therapy with a psy *a great one !* and i don't think he treated Ayse (or Farya !) correctly ! He is trash (more trash than any others characters i think) but i also like her complexity. How do you find him ? Do you think he deserve more recognization like Selim or not at all ?

I don't like him one bit as a person. He's problematic, hypocritical and abusive and his actions go beyond every sort of justification, no matter how much he tries to justify them himself. However, he is interesting and complex as a character and you can still see where he comes from and how do his beliefs unfold. He clearly has a detailed arc; and that arc causes him to be way more paranoid, way more selfish, way more overindulgent, which was to his detriment.

Let's face it: the show portrayed him as a very bad ruler (I spoke about why here) and from what I've read, historically, he isn't any better, either. I don't know what does he deserve to be recognized for, aside from the conquering of Baghdad, which did nothing to absolve his crimes in the show, aside from how well-written he is. Any possible redeeming quality of his is destroyed by all his problematic actions piling in and all we've left is a nuanced exploration of his problematic traits. With MC Selim we have a much more understandable circumstance, the child neglect which explained his drinking and lay low tendencies and why it looked like he didn't care for what the other brothers did. Thing is, Selim arguably wasn't all that problematic at first (the provocations between him and Bayezid were more mutual than anything else) and what really pushed him to "villainy" was the death of Mustafa and Cihangir, the complete destruction of the concept of brotherly love in his head. His redeeming qualities were as balanced as his "villainy" and you see within how human he is and how everyone around him who wasn't Nurbanu did somewhat screw him over from the start. The nuance is on his entire persona, not on his problematic deeds. I do believe that MC Selim's writing should be way more respected, because of all the nuance. I don't think he's fit for a padişah in the show, but he isn't some cardboard cutout who only drinks and schemes. He has actual issues, desires, sensitivity, vulnerability and compassion. Murat is a different kind of a character. He's both a bad ruler and a horrible person, he doesn't really have a transitional point to begin his problematic deeds, since he's like this in the beggining. He has his reasons in his backstory, but they recontextualize his paranoia, not what comes out of this paranoia. His transitional point was more him getting even surer of his beliefs than beggining a path of ruthlessness. Worse, it strips him from any possible scruple he had deep inside and what we would see from this point on is his further moral descent and nothing else. He has two areas of justification: a fragment of his past and the "Shadow of God" mentality that only ring more shallow the further we go. (it's fascinating writing-wise, but that's about it.) With Selim at least we have his motives becoming stronger the more we go and watch him succeed. They're different thematic explorations altogether and one of them isn't much on the sympathetic or deserving of recognition spectrum by design.

What I like the most about Murat's writing is that no matter how strong and dangerous it is, his paranoia comes from a real place. While with Süleiman we only had hints of said paranoia in a few flashbacks, with Murat we had an actually devastating, shown on-screen event that had the harder job of making such sudden by the show change more believable. Murat, for whatever he is, is shown a tiny bit of understanding by the script when there actually are people actively working behind his back. Süleiman assumes he's been betrayed, but since the events that open his paranoia are mostly events molded or completely taken out of context and no one actively works behind his back until much after said paranoia was allowed to occur (even Mustafa's organization worked primarily against Hürrem, not SS, one attempt to kill SS aside, which the object of his paranoia saved him from!!!!) - we, as audience, have no reason to buy it whatsoever, which brought the understanding for SS soo down for me. But Murat's paranoia made him go way out of proportion to the point he went even further than SS by willing to end the whole state so he could be there and rule. And just like SS, his paranoia quickly became all selfish in nature to the point of alienating everyone around him who wants to give him decent advice and thinking himself as right all the time. He wanted to be a lone wolf, driven by toxic masculinity from the start. And him feeling overshadowed by Kösem... no matter how understandable it has the chance to be because of the time period, made him blind and instead of gaining experience in order to rule unscathed and firm, he decided to fixate himself on the past and on his role and possible deep-seated resentment of his mother, he made all the wrong decisions in every aspect of his life.

His anger issues are especially illuminating, since he tends to lash out on the slightest thing gone wrong, to the point of exercising physical violence. His anger probably stemmed from how he could only watch during Osman's death and the subconscious blaming of Kösem because of it, along with Musa's death and them not giving him time to shine, something he thought belonged to him and was his right, but by ruminating on all this, he, once again, focuses on his own feelings and own world, he, once again, reaches devastating extremes. Anyone who ever tries to defy him suffers from this. Anyone who tries to defy him is evaluated by how much he's fitting for his mold, for his world, something far beyond a wish for loyalty.

He didn't love any of his women, IMO. His physical violence and abuse was highlighted by his dynamics with them the most and he always decided on the harshest punishments when it came to them. One might argue that his relationship with Farya played its part in somewhat humanizing Murat and disguising this overally questionable at its impossibly best love story for ratings and stuff, but the more we went, the more abusive it got and Farya could never get over his unpredictable and turbulent nature that strived to strictly control every single thing that was close to him to toxic levels. I won't even begin with how he treated Ayşe, because that was such a trainwreck and she deserved much better than to constantly fear for her life, because this guy could go immediately crazy and kill her and her kids. With Sanavber it was only slight infatuation and that's all for me, because in that point, I doubt this guy was capable of love. One Murat went and there came the other before Sanavber arrived and Murat was on the path to become his cruelest self.

All in all, I don't mind anyone going out there and trying to explore him ( in fact, I would actually love such discussions!), but he's hot trash, he should die in fire along with Süleiman and I'm struggling everyday to declare which one is worse in my book, because they suck the same for me, but in different ways. I appreciate their narrative roles, but otherwise... screw them both.

[alfredosauce50]

[APH x AOT] Headcanons: The countries’ military regiment, fighting style and ranking

I only managed to get Germany, China, America, England and Russia in this, but I went pretty deep with all of them: There will be reasons for joining, strengths, weaknesses, and their overall ranking. The total wordcount for this is 3, 759, so that’s triple the amount of a regular headcanons post. 

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 

Garrison

The regiment with the most personnel, and arguably, the most productive. With limited entry into the military police and high fatality rate of the Survey Corps, most graduates wind up here. 

But there is lots of work to be done. Whether it be maintaining and protecting walls, or evacuating citizens and adhering to emergency plans when disaster strikes--a breach in the wall and an invasion--there are always important jobs to get busy with. The Garrison frequently encounter both titans and civilians, so the soldiers here are well-rounded in titan combat, cannons, security detail, crowd control, and rifle usage. 

Given their concrete role and how they successfully deliver what they pledge, they are objectively the most deserving of respect. 

Germany

He always had his eyes set on the Garrison, having a high regard for their integral role in maintaining and protecting society. 

Ludwig is well aware of his plethora of skills while remaining humble, and wishes to use them to his full potential. While he admires the will and purpose of the Survey Corps, he’d much rather join a regiment that has a better ratio of risk and return. The scouts who die outside the protection of the walls may not die meaningful deaths, but members of the Garrison have clear goals to dedicate themselves to, and he wants nothing more than to be a part of it. 

As a hardworking person, he believes in sacrificing every bit of his time and energy to serving the people. What better way to be productive than defending civilians and the home he loves?

Fighting style

Selfless, strong and disciplined 

Strengths

He’s outstanding in all areas. He’s fast, sharp, unafraid to tackle problems had on, and to top it all off, his cuts are deep and damaging. Using 3DMG in a city as convenient as it is dangerous. Infrastructure often hides titans from the naked eye, but he’s able to take in clues and process them quickly to take the quickest and safest route. 

He has a high pain tolerance. Theoretically, if he got his arm bitten off, he could make his own way to find medical attention.

Ludwig is a natural born leader. He has one of the finest military minds. If you want strategy, you go to him. Not only is he renowned for remaining calm and level-headed no matter how grim circumstances become, he is direct and detail-oriented, so he’s a great communicator. Thus, he can be relied upon by everyone who works with him. 

He has a strong moral compass, but isn’t very emotional. More often than not, he will take the initiative to go out of his way to save someone, putting his life on the line in the process. Ludwig won’t linger on any setbacks and incidents, and will make the most out of them by trying to learn something. This sources from being mentally strong, so he’s able to keep pushing without the troubles of self-doubt.    

He possesses a very high standard for his work, and everything he does will be done well. As he takes on more authoritative roles, he will implement his work ethics into administrative tasks, and demand that others follow his example. Ludwig will not turn a blind eye to any instances of incompetence, and corruption will automatically result in your termination. 

He’s a fearsome fighter. His combat skills are one of the best. Ludwig never held back when sparring in his training days, but now that he’s faced with real enemies, he will dedicate his time to studying and perfecting variety of techniques. If you can do so little as touch him, consider yourself good. Breaking your ribs is merely a warning from him.

Weaknesses

Ludwig is a workaholic, and he will get carried away. He can get too obsessed with completing his tasks to the point of neglecting his own health. This may result in pulling consecutive all-nighters or skipping meals, believing that his body can handle it. However, the long-term effects will be detrimental if somebody doesn’t stop him. 

He takes on too much responsibility, sometimes more than what he can handle. There’s never too many burdens for him to shoulder, or at least, that’s what he thinks, but he’ll end up pushing himself and getting in trouble. This coincides with his selflessness, but he puts himself in harm’s way too often. 

He can get fixated on the smallest imperfections and inexplicabilities in himself and the happenings in his regiment. As a detail-oriented person with high standards, he could get distracted by these fluctuations. Ludwig believes everything has to be accounted for, but he ends up counting in the more trivial matters.

Rank: 2nd

Military police

Only the top ten get to join the military police as the most prestigious branch in the military. They operate in wall Sina, the innermost wall, and maintain order, as well as serve the king. Ironically, they are the biggest farce of all regiments by nature. Soldiers train to be the best at fighting titans just to get away from them in the safest spot of their civilization. 

That sounds appealing, doesn’t it? To hide away from the humanoid beasts and live a nice cushy life with the royals. Of course, this paves way for corruption, and their higher authority over the two other regiments leads to misuse and abuse of power. 

Considering how little oversight they have, the military police often clashes heads with the other two regiments, but especially the Survey Corps. 

Russia

He doesn’t like people enough to join a branch that will actually help them. 

Ivan understands that its more worthwhile to join the Garrison or Survey Corps because they actually contribute to society. But his view on their work and humanity in general is far too pessimistic. When will the scouts actually do something useful after so many meaningless deaths? People will inevitably die inside the walls, with or without the Garrison, so what’s the point? 

If he can live his own life not caring about things he can’t change, why not do it? 

Being in the military police, the most prestigious and powerful regiment, and yet, met with their jarring incompetency everyday reminds him that maybe, he shouldn’t sell himself to saving the human race. His soul is far too bitter--too disappointed. He ends up prioritizing himself in a world he believes will eventually self-destruct. These walls won’t last forever. The people will only break down faster.

Fighting style:

Sharp and unpredictable 

Strengths (In the military police)

Ivan’s ability to outsmart his colleagues allows him to stay on top of all the going-ons in the military police. He’s very cynical, but that’s the perfect trait for thriving in such a corrupt environment. Nobody will be able to take advantage of him, and he ends up doing it to others without even trying. 

It’s impossible to anticipate where and how he will attack you. Ivan has a keen eye for body language, and will mirror his opponents’ movements for the most part, then when they least expect it, he will come for them in the most merciless fashion. 

Thus, his combat style is definitely special, but that’s what makes him so deadly. He won’t always use punches and kicks because they’re easy to defend against. He might just hold you in a chokehold, but if he wants to get rid of you, he’ll use his height and strength to his advantage and slam you to the ground by your neck. 

Weaknesses (In the military police)

None

His transfer to the Survey Corps

Nobody anticipated this. Not even Ivan himself. 

He grew up rather poor, but fortunately, he wasn’t impoverished to the point of living in the underground slums. His father was a no-show, and his mother struggled to put food on the table for as long as he could remember. Already, the thought of joining the military police to escape poverty was starting to look like a realistic goal to strive towards.

Who would have thought the nice but strange-looking boy he befriended from his neighborhood would change his mind one day? He didn’t, not as he stood in the line of the top ten graduates of the 104th training corps, determined to fulfil his lifelong dream and finally stop suffering. 

Every day, he’s reminded it was the right choice to join the military police. His superiors are corrupt, his colleagues incompetent and everyone is absorbed with gambling and drinking. Humanity was hopeless. It would face its eventual demise as the Garrison struggled to keep swarms of titans from invading one district to another, and as the personnel of the Survey Corps decreased every expedition with little progress. He might as well enjoy himself while he can. 

His deep attachment to his childhood friend Yao would change all of this. As a child, he was always quite clingy to the boy, but one needs to wonder if it was because he gave him things to eat. While they went off on different paths to join different regiments, they kept a close connection, and would often meet up in secret to discuss each other’s military branches. 

Eventually, Ivan’s attitude begins to change as his relationship with Yao deepens. After all, his friendship with the man reminds him of what’s left of the good in humanity. Soon, as he learns about the change in tide for the Survey Corps where they encounter new, real progress, and eventually, a real chance for salvation, he begins to question his morals and beliefs. 

The military police start to look more distasteful to him at every passing day.  The tables finally turn when he learns that the Survey Corps are to embark on an expedition outside the walls in a few months, meaning Yao will face uncertain death--that’s what convinces him to transfer.

Strengths (In the survey corps)

Like his personality, he has an unpredictable and unique 3DMG style. Most people will choose to swing by one way, he will choose the other. He might even go upside down for a while wherever he sees fit. That’s what makes him so strong against aberrants/abnormals. He might even laugh at how ‘predictable’ they were when they were anything but. Like the saying goes, to catch a thief, you have to think like one.

He always shows up at the right time. He will appear from obscure spots and pull you into a hiding spot when you’ve abandoned all hope. To his comrades, seeing Ivan in strange places is the best thing that could happen to you, because his presence signals a threat nearby and he’ll end up being your only ticket out.

His intelligence is one of a kind. On top of this, he’s very difficult to faze so he can orientate himself quickly in foreign environments and pick up on situations without panicking. Friends tend to rely on him in dire moments for this reason.

Weaknesses

He often rubs people the wrong way with how he speaks. Half the time, he’s being too blunt and honest that it’s hard-hitting. If not, he mentions grotesque or unpleasant things with a smile on his face. And in a world with titans, there are many things that fit the description. People have a hard time liking and trusting someone like Ivan, which may cause his isolation and a disconnect with the goals of the majority.

His blades don’t last as long as most people’s because he has a questionable way of cutting up titans. He gets the job done, but he definitely over does it. He’ll have to rely on his 3DMG to survive for the meantime until he’s able to replenish. 

Ivan isn’t the best communicator in the world, and this is mostly because he assumes people already understand what they need to do. Unfortunately, not a lot of his comrades are as bright as him, so it doesn’t help that he can be quite vague. He can’t be relied on to relay important information, so he stays where the action all happens, or in other words, where trouble begins. This will put him at a greater risk even if he’s good at facing unexpected and dire situations. 

Rank: 4th 

Survey corps

You’d definitely be called crazy for considering joining. The Survey Corps is the branch of military that specializes in titan research, human expansion, and exploration of the outside world. Thus, this regiment symbolizes a hope for mankind—for freedom. However, the mortality rate is high. Stepping into titan territory will decimate members, and most will die within 4 years of joining. High risk, and almost zero return.

They are notorious for how little their success rate is so that citizens and other military regiments look on in disapproval. But they keep fighting and fighting, hoping that one day, their efforts won’t be in vain in their quest to change the world for the better.

Only the most convicted individuals will join. But only the most talented, and perhaps, luckiest, will survive.

America

This isn’t even a question. 

He knows the risks. It’s not certain whether his death will be meaningful either, and count as one step forward for humanity. It probably won’t. But he’ll be damned if he’s stuck in these walls for the rest of his life, getting fattened up by taxes just to turn into livestock for titans. 

Unlike Ivan who believes in self-preservation, Alfred thinks the meaning of life is to join a cause bigger than himself. To build something that will last for lifetimes.  

He’s also a free spirit, and yearns for true freedom and justice. So he’ll fight for it. The logo representing the scouts aren’t “The Wings of Freedom” for nothing. Call him cocky, but he’s convinced he was born to join the scouts. Everything they believe in, he does too. Their goals resonate with the deepest fibres of his soul. He craves knowledge. Bleeds for revolution. He won’t rest until he satisfies his quest for discovery, and hope. 

Fighting style: 

Powerful and explosive, but a little flamboyant.

Strengths

Alfred possesses an almost super-human strength and stamina. He can go long, and go hard. He will go on a killing rampage for as long as his gas and blades allow him to.

He’s very hardy and able to make fast decisions in risky situations. Hence, when he’s subject to difficult situations, he makes it out without a hitch. This is evident in how he can make narrow escapes to survive in cases most people wouldn’t. Losing your horse outside the walls guarantees death, but he has a half and half chance of surviving. 

His slashes are always deep to ensure he incapacitates a titan. He spins and flips a lot. He could easily dismember them if he wanted to.

A terrifying opponent to spar against because his attacks are usually too strong to defend against. The immense force he uses coincides with his incredible speed, so his opponents will have a hard time dodging and keeping up with him. One punch to the head will leave them blacked out, and two could mean permanent brain damage. Three and you’re probably as good as dead.

A good and calm communicator and works well in a team. He’s more observant than he lets on, so he has a keen eye for his friends’ abilities and will take them into consideration. 

Weaknesses

He can be rash and act out on his own accord when he thinks he’s right. That’s why his teammates are wary of him when a plan is a little more complex and ambiguous. This often creates problems for other team members because once Alfred starts improvising, they have to as well. It never ends well. 

As earnest as he is, he tends to talk back to his superiors. Looks like he’s on toilet cleaning duty again. 

He can let his emotions get in the way. Anger is not his friend. It clouds his mind and that’s when he’s the most reckless, and thus, vulnerable. 

As skilled as he is, his blades tends to dull faster than everyone else’s because he puts them under too much pressure. He will be the first to break them and could wind up defenseless for a while, but he has an uncanny ability to survive against all odds. 

Rank: 3rd

England

Unlike Alfred, freedom and justice isn’t his main motivation to join the Survey Corps. But there is one thing they share in common--a deep passion for the quest for discovery. As human beings, arguably the most intelligent species in existence, he finds it to be a devastating waste to know so little about the world he was born in. 

Is there another civilization out there fighting titans like his people in the walls? What kinds of foreign cultures, languages and religions could be waiting for him to come into contact with? And is the ocean really something that exists? If it does, then there’s a whole new world in the waters waiting to be discovered. The answers to these profound questions are well worth dying for, especially for someone who embodies human curiosity.

Salvation comes in a little further down the list. He has his doubts on whether he can save the human race. But when the chance comes, his loyalty and determination will be unbreakable, and he will go to the most extreme means to seize the opportunity. 

Fighting style: 

Swift and resourceful, but unsociable

Strengths

He’s one of the fastest and most efficient 3DMG users. One of the reasons is that he can use his gas sparingly, but not without cutting back speed. That way, he can survive for longer without stopping to replenish. 

With this in mind, Arthur can go back and save any comrades in a tight spot. That’s what makes him an irreplaceable member of any team--with him around, you have a higher chance of surviving. 

He can move like nobody else can. Tight spaces and unexpected obstacles will not slow him down, as he can make sharp turns and good approximations under pressure.

Cunning and good at avoiding conflict. Rather than direct confrontations, whether its with people or titans, he will only fight when he absolutely has to. This minimizes expense of energy and resources, as well as casualties. 

Arthur has impeccable navigation skills and threat perception. When he’s outside the walls and on horseback, he’s often right next to the soldier holding the colored flares. If not, he’s in charge of firing them. He can accurately estimate the distance between his squad to the nearest titan, and he always knows where he’s going. That’s how he can make all the right calls. 

Weaknesses

He’s a bit hot-headed and rough around the edges. This will make working in a team harder. Other times, he just doesn’t talk at all. A rather poor communicator when it comes down to it. 

While his leaner build gives him speed, it also makes him a little weaker in hand-to-hand combat. Height and weight does not put a cap on sparring abilities, but since he isn’t great at it in the first place, he ends up sustaining worse injuries. 

Arthur’s stamina is pretty average. Usually, he makes up for it with his 3DMG skills and conflict avoidance, but when he has to fight, he won’t last forever. That’s where his speed comes in. He has to end things quickly, if not, he won’t make it. 

He take things personally and lingers on any incidents that happen. He’s mentally weak, and does crack from time to time. So if someone doesn’t talk to him, he could spiral down a path of self-destruction because it’s hard for him to reach out. 

Rank: 5th

China

Along with the pursuit of intellect and salvation, he sacrifices himself so that one day, future generations can live in a safe world free from titans. This priceless moment in history will not be forgotten, and instead, remembered as proof of the spirit of humanity, unwavering and strong in the face of adversity.

There’s nothing more human than fighting for a cause you believe in. To know this while confronting those beasts, the very opposite of a thinking and feeling human being, sparks a fire inside him to keep pushing. Like everyone else, he’s under the impression the people in the walls are what’s left of humanity--the last remnants of culture, intellect, love, and joy--and he will defend it until his last breath.  

If anything, he’s one of the most selfless characters of all. He’s prepared to put everything and everyone else before him, because he knows he’s replaceable. But everything aforementioned isn’t, so he will choose to save them over himself in a heartbeat. 

Fighting style:

Graceful and gifted

Strengths

He’s the dark horse of the military. Despite his friendly demeanor, Yao is incredibly talented and proficient in all areas, and keeps updated with the going-ons in the other regiments. 

He’s the most skilled with his blades so they dull the slowest. He uses them as if they were an extension of his body. To many, all you have to do is slice hard and fast, but he has technique that lets him lengthen the life of his blade while maintaining a good, clean cut. This lets him last even longer than Alfred, who is rather reckless with his weapons. If he can kill twelve before replenishing, Yao can kill twenty.

Nobody can beat him in hand-to-hand combat, not even Ludwig. This is where the saying ‘size doesn’t matter’ comes in. 

He knows a variety of martial arts, so it’s a given he can use moves targeting bigger opponents. If you somehow last more than two seconds, he’ll dodge and deflect any attacks you try to land on him, then retaliate so quickly, you’ll be down faster than you realize he even hit you. He’ll use your own limbs against you and make it seem like you’re hitting yourself. 

His manoeuvring skills are impeccable and crazy fast. With his smaller build, he can beat Arthur. And while they’re both cunning, Yao prefers to use it to his advantage to exterminate threats rather than avoiding them. This draws a fine line between the two men, and makes him so dangerous. When it’s not just titans he’s killing, he is perceived as a threat by human enemies. 

He can remain calm and resist the urge of panicking when faced with adversity. That way, he can keep his head and rely on logic to come up with a solution. 

Weaknesses

Like Alfred, he can be unpredictable when plans are ambiguous and complex. He will have his own agenda, and is confident enough to pursue them, so this will cause some discord among team members. Fortunately, he isn’t as reckless and won’t rope others into trouble. 

Unlike Alfred, he doesn’t have the same fire to survive. If his chances are incredibly slim, he will probably sit down and accept his demise, whereas Alfred will keep fighting until the bitter end. This sources from his belief that he is replaceable, and he shouldn’t waste energy avoiding something inevitable.

Rank: 1st

To all the AOT fans following my page, this is a treat for you! If people liked this, I’ll have a part two and include France, Italy, Japan, Spain and a few other characters. That’s when we’ll get even deeper into the lore, because not all of them will join the military but will have important roles all the same. Yes I’ve read the manga and watched all four seasons, so I’m also aware of the Azumabito clan. But there are no mentions of it here.

[bylolarai]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

CHARACTER NAME: Lola Ophelia Rai GENDER/PRONOUNS: Girl-Flux / She/They DATE OF BIRTH: July 21, 1989 PLACE OF BIRTH: Salem, MA SPECIES/POWER: Witch, Oneirokinesis ELEMENT: Water COVEN POSITION: Member CURRENT RESIDENCE: Brooklyn, New York City OCCUPATION: Creative Director at Kaplan Cosmetics FACECLAIM: Summer Bishil

CHARACTER QUOTE: 

                ❝ The heart is the toughest part of the body.                            Tenderness is in the hands.❞

PINTEREST

PLAYLIST ( under co )

There was no feeling like the autumn crunch of leaves under your boot in Salem, Massachusetts. Lola knew nothing in her life but golden moments, the way the world around her looked as the seasons changed was always fascinating. Some would say as a child she had her head in the clouds and while this wasn’t inaccurate it wasn’t completely true. A young Lola saw the world as infinite, vast, amazing, soaking up every moment she could. On rainy days, she’d watch the rain water trickle down her window for hours and when those same rain drops produced flowers in the spring -- Lola was outside admiring them. Life was beautiful, the witches that raised her were a coven in every sense of the word. The Circle of the Reaping Star. At a young age a strong sense of right and wrong, justice, the opposite of desensitization to the world's injustices was imbued in Lola. Learning and listening to those around her, she idolized her mother Lavanya, amazed that she had come from someone so powerful. Could she be as powerful? Maybe. But her mother would tuck her in every night telling her that she could be anything she wanted to be, power was something that could grow, but her humanity? What tied her to every living thing, every person, the world? That was not something she could ever let go of. So Lola felt everything. Knowing how precious it was, to have the permission to just be and the love and acceptance that came with that brand of freedom? Lola was. It was as simple as that.

Admittedly, Lola was an emotional child. Despite being older than Lysander (she would lord it over them every chance she got, despite the fact that they weren’t that far apart in age), she had moments where many would think it was the opposite. He was everything that she wanted to be, so self assured, so confident once his abilities came in. They studied for hours together, she watched them excel in ways she could never dream of. Many would feel jealousy, envy even, but all Lola felt was the poignant need to protect. To learn. Admire. Love. Oh, how she loved them. She imagined a world in which once their mother stepped down, Lysander would replace her as the Supreme. Lola would be there by their side to advise, to listen, to help guide. But she believed in everything her sibling did and everything they were -- their power was something to learn from. The Sam to their Frodo. If Lola’s purpose was hers and hers alone -- it was to be by Lysander’s side. He was worried that the ancestors would choose him? Lola would do everything in her power to make sure that they did. It may not have been in her control but when it came to Lysander -- they always inspired her to do the impossible. To push herself past what she thought even she was capable of. To be by their side in this journey, to grow on her own congruent with them? That was a life she was content with.

Her own powers were something she became excited to explore. She’d always felt close to the water, always felt at peace with the waves and so when her ability was centered around water? It made complete sense. While she watched Lysander excel and even begin to tap into their ability of astral projection, Lola was still working on figuring out what her secondary ability could even be. Patience was a virtue that Lola did possess then, practicing with Lysander while trying to force them to eat, sleep, and drink some water. She’d tell them that they couldn’t lead their coven one day if they died from dehydration. Don’t you want something much more heroic to take you out than your inability to drink water? Lola would tease as she made sure they had snacks at every now scheduled practice. To redirect them at times, she’d ask them for advice on how to hone her own abilities. Water and fire, she’d say they went hand in hand -- sometimes she’d joke that their abilities would be useless without the other. Fire was untamable without water and water would never know to be still without the presence of fire. To stop moving, bending and become something more than just a source. To be still.

When Lysander was bitten during the summer of solstice of 2004, an almost 15 year old Lola grew up and was faced with questions that she never thought she would ever have to answer.

Are you still a sister if your sibling is nowhere to be found? Are you still a sister if you haven’t hugged them in years, talked to them, laughed, cried? Are you still a sister if they’re more of a ghost than a person in your life?

Lola always believed the answer was yes. It didn’t matter that he would never answer, she could understand why. The anger was directed to their mother, Lola deeply believed in their cause, their coven, but how could she let this happen? Lysander had begged to die rather than leave -- didn’t their mother see how horrible of a decision to make that was? Why should they -- or anyone -- have to be faced with making a decision like that? Her younger sibling. It was a moment like then that Lola was reminded of the fact that she was older than him, while she had technically lived a life without him -- she never remembered it. There was not a time without them in her life.

Until there was.

As Lola grew up, she stopped being all heart on her sleeve and developed her abilities in charm work quite quickly ( some would say as a coping mechanism ) while neglecting her secondary ability of oneirokinesis. There were nefarious things she could do with something that powerful and she didn’t want it. Astral projection, the mind, that was all Lysander’s speciality not hers. So she repressed it much to her detriment, showing up in dreams when she didn’t want to and further trying to ignore it through her use of illicit substances. To cope, Lola chose a creative route -- makeup. Jewelry. Creation. Adorning herself, tailoring her image to something so curated that the girl that was all heart on her sleeve was delicately hidden beneath layers of a foundation that wasn’t just cosmetic. Lola became anew, the girl she was only saved for herself and a select few. Within her Coven, if people wanted their makeup done? Their jewelry enchanted with spells of protection, self love, sometimes luck if she could spare it? Rings that didn’t just tell current moods but made you believe in whatever mood you wanted to be in? The most important things Lola could contribute were her abilities and her voice. The latter came out most venomously in private with their mother as the years went on.

How could I trust you after what happened with Lysander? It wasn’t fair, Lola knew. To blame her mother for every wrong thing that had happened since Lysander was sent away. It wasn’t fair but it wasn’t fair that he was gone either, was it? Lola knew she didn’t have the power herself to think she was even capable of making a cure -- but Lavanya? It had been a decade and there was little progress. Lola had bided her time playing pretend, playing with makeup and charms. More importantly she had gone to protests, helped forge documents when needed to avoid the authorities watchful eyes. While first born, she’d always been second -- contently so. Lysander would come back, she would dream. He would be chosen. Her place was never at the top where their mother was but why wasn’t Lavanya doing more with the power & prestige? The woman she believed to be all powerful, all knowing, all graceful, couldn’t do the one thing a mother was supposed to do -- protect her children. Lola didn’t talk about how she missed Lysander every day they were apart, how she had to cope through parties, drinking and other various forms of escape to subdue the question that always popped up?

Where was he?

Keeping her distance was hard (especially when your subconscious didn’t control where or when you would pop up in someone’s dreams) but she had gotten the message that they didn’t want to talk. Lola empathized but yearned. She respected but deeply felt his absence like a phantom limb. She did everything in her power to not resent her younger sibling but understand where they were coming from -- if anything it hurt more feeling compassion rather than resentment. It was worth it, the pain, she learned that at a young age. But she couldn’t stay in it -- she had to make something of her life, find a purpose that wasn’t just tied to being someone’s right hand. It was easier that way, to live your own life tied to another, to be on her own was a scary but worth it new adventure. First, she had an ETSY shop of her creations to branch out for fun and next she made a Youtube channel doing makeup looks. Her non magical subscribers were amazed by Lola’s special effects and the magical folk knew better -- as the years went by and Lola amassed a small following -- she reveled in her little corner of the internet. However, she wanted more as she found herself straying away from actually finding her purpose and falling into the world of illusions and charms through makeup, videos, her own skills. Hearing about a coven in New York that had similar ideals to her mothers became a goal of hers. While the idea of a cure to lycanthropy fell to the background of Lola’s mind, it was because she thought of a purpose greater than curing something seen as monstrous. She strived for acceptance. A cure would be helpful to those who wanted it but her thinking shifted from it being a necessity to it being a tool, a medicine for some and a balm of knowledge just by potentially being a reality to others. The day would come when she would see Lysander again, she didn’t want him to think that after all these years she only sought to fix him. If that’s what they wanted, she would abide, but she wished for so much more.

As Lola gained more traction in the online makeup world, job offers from companies started to roll in. A few brand deals and Lola started to become uncomfortable with how large her following started to become. Did she enjoy charm & illusion work? Yes, but only when it came to her work. Not her life. The world of social media itself started to feel like its own non-magical illusion, when it started out as fun. None of this was fun, her own hobby became exhausting and she needed a change. Some called her a sell out for taking the job at Kaplan Cosmetic so easily, going from brand coordinator to Creative director within a year. But Lola had seen it as the perfect opportunity to start a new life and more importantly -- align with what she actually wanted. With who she actually wanted to be. Saying goodbye to the Salem leaves, the waterfront walks, her coven, her mother was hard to come to terms with. Had Ly felt an ounce of this pain? Knowing that they had had no choice in the matter made it worse, Lola imagined. If they could survive doing so, their life ripped away from them without looking back, Lola could do this. Besides -- not many makeup & cosmetic brands sought her out because of her charm work. They either had no knowledge of the supernatural world or simply didn’t exist. Kaplan did. So Kaplan cosmetics it was.

While she still maintains her Etsy store, Lola focused her creative endeavors on Kaplan. The makeup she helps create and name are all enchanted based on emotions, experiences, places, even some smells. Her spellwork was also used to help her new coven in any way possible as she navigated her new life in New York. The transition was hard -- leaving behind everything she knew was one of the hardest decisions she has had to make but she knew it was the right one. Her place was not in that coven, not anymore. Maybe one day she’d come back with Lysander, if they could ever reunite and if they could ever gain their full power back, but until then her life in New York, her place in Brooklyn was what was slowly becoming her new home.

[silentauroriamthereal]

A Meme

bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people

tagged by: @totallysilvergirl; therefore I consider it a command! Also, because you all know how verbose I am, I’m adding my own commentary at the bottom of each paragraph/section thingy. 

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch small animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see dawn (not willingly, but since I have to get up then, anyway, one might as well enjoy it!)/ the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

No, I have big, strong hands with tiny, child-sized nails, and that’s fine. Lol. They’ve gotten very tendon-y and vein-y since I took up weight lifting and lost a lot of weight and I love that. I love the sky at any time of day. I drink all the teas, except for rooibus, which isn’t even tea, and can go to hell. Sorry, sorry. If you like it, good. Who likes the smell of dust???? Seriously. Wise? I’m not completely sure about that one. Intelligent, yes. Wise? I do strive for wisdom, and sometimes I think I achieve it. I prefer silence, honestly. Being a classical musician definitely gives one a love for having not-music on. Hence my name. I don’t really meditate, but I did briefly take up tai chi again during the three months of my shutdown. It’s over for me personally, since I had to go back to physical work a month ago. Barf. I’d rather be at home. 

fire.

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

I have ridiculous hair. It’s very fine and would curl on a humid day if it’s behaving nicely, but if it doesn’t, it’s just frizz. In winter I typically dry it and straighten it, or it’s just lank and frizzy at the same time. Awful. I wore ripped things as a teen, but now I attempt to pass as an adult most of the time. I despise team sports but like doing sport-adjacent things on my own, like working out and swimming and such. I would love to learn to kiteboard, but it’s too expensive and I don’t have a way to get to a beach (no car, no money: classic). Dogs are Good. Unless they’re brainless morons (but really, even then!) I do like adventures, sometimes. I *can* talk to strangers and do it all the time. Professionally, even. About genocide. Lol. I don’t always want to, but I certainly can do it. New foods are fun. Road trips are pretty good, though I prefer planes and boats (but not cruises, gross). Fall is my favourite, especially in places that have maples. I don’t have a radio and loathe the sound of them. I haven’t heard a radio in ages, since, again, no car. 

water.

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

I almost never wear bracelets, but if I do, I guess the wrist is the normal place to put them. I do love cities. I’m very much a city person. That said, I’m also quite happy to escape to a lake/ocean/wilderness now and then. I have two holes in each earlobe, a piercing in my upper left ear cartilage, and used to have an eyebrow piercing until it was pointed out that it would almost certainly be detrimental for my then-opera career (fledging though it was...) I don’t often read poetry, but I do sometimes. Thunderstorms are fantastic. I love travel, though maybe not just now. Plus, again, no money. I am naturally nocturnal, but the world doesn’t accommodate that. If I don’t set alarms, within 48 hours my sleep cycle shifts to 5am-12pm. Like clockwork. However, I get up at 6:30am for work, so... I aim for midnight. I’m constantly overtired because of this. I loathe “nostalgic” Americana with a passion. I also hate children’s TV shows, and they’re not nostalgic because I wasn’t allowed to watch any of those shows. Nothing that wasn’t deemed educational. I don’t even know what this last one means. (Too pragmatic, I guess...) 

earth.

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love the chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

I wear glasses. I used to wear contacts, but one day - spring of 2009, specifically - my eyes very abruptly decided that they were not having contacts anymore, ever, period. So: glasses. I do actually like keeping my little apartment clean, but laundry is not my fave. I’m almost the opposite of a vegetarian/vegan: I’m keto/almost carnivore, lol. It’s what I need for my particular health/lifestyle goals. I eat mostly vegetables, meat, dairy, nuts/seeds, etc. Time? I’m half-German. Yeah: I’m punctual, and consider it highly rude not to be. My humour is sarcastic, silly, dry, dark - but not really “cheerful”, per se. People do come to me for advice. (”Dump his ass, girl!” Always. Lol.) I do believe in true love, though mostly for fictional characters. Lol. Mountain air: yes. Very good. I listen to music when I need to for music-themed work, or to walk or work out to. For me, listening to music is an active activity, not a background activity, ditto for podcasts, so I rarely do either, because it’s the only thing I can do. I work at being trustworthy, meanwhile. 

aether.

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i can love unconditionally

I don’t wear much make-up, but I do wear some. Nothing on my face itself, just a bit of light eyeshadow and mascara. I’m pretty organized. Where I live, if I smiled at everyone, I’d get meth addicts following me home. History DOES repeat itself and not enough people fear that nearly enough. I think I do love unconditionally, but to love selflessly is always something we can work at doing more and better. 

Tagging: @chained-to-the-mirror, @yaycoffee, @flannelsaurus, @inevitably-johnlocked, @cathykell, @bakingsherlycakes, @atisenia, @88thparallel, and @shiplocks-of-love. Just if you want to! 

[sedonawritess]

Ask Game: A–Z of Character Vices and Virtues.

Nobody asked me to do this but I thought it would be good for character building so... here I go!

I’m gonna do this for both Fionn & Aoife but we are starting with:

FIONN

A. Annoying: What is your OC’s most annoying trait?

I like to think he’s a little self righteous! It’s not that he thinks everyone is below him but he has a very specific code that he lives by and when others don’t, he tends to feel superior. Obviously when he meets the pirates this is very clear since they’re... well... pirates!

B. Best: What is your OC’s best personality trait?

He’s kind. And I don’t mean like just nice. He’s genuinely kind and cares a lot about others. He’s very in tune with others feelings and wants to protect those he loves even at his own detriment.

C. Child: Your OC encounters a crying, lost child. How do they react?

He’s definitely the type of guy who would give the kid something to play with or to distract them (probably a ring or his necklace) while he tries to find their parents.

D. Desire: Your OC has the opportunity to get the thing they desire most, but it means betraying a friend. Do they do it?

No. This is the most loyal character out of my crew. He is someone who’d lay down his life for others and would never sacrifice anyone for his own gain. He’d rather sacrifice himself.

E. Excellent: Which of your OCs is the most virtuous?

It’s Fionn. He’s a good guy!

F. Forgive: How good is your OC at apologizing? Do they own up to it when they’ve made a mistake? How easily does your OC forgive other people?

I would say he’s not the verbal apology type of guy & so it depends on who you are as a person if you think he’s good at apologizing. He’s more likely to just correct his behavior or do something for you as an acknowledgment that he messed up. I don’t think he’s really someone who holds too much of a grudge so he forgives most things pretty easily.

G. Guilt: Does your OC often regret their decisions? If so, describe a decision they regret.

I think he regrets his decisions a lot less than others because he spends so much time thinking things through before acting. He’s not often wrong or doing things he regrets.

H. Honesty: How often does your OC lie? Do they believe lying is ever justified? Describe a time your OC told a lie, or told the truth even when it was difficult.

He’s not a liar unless he feels like he has to in order to protect the people he cares about. He’s more of a white lie type of guy. He doesn’t like liars but can understand the occasional need.

I. Individuality: Is your OC’s morality more influenced by the society they live in, or their own critical thinking?

It’s definitely more influenced by his society than say other characters but again he also has his own moral code that he follows very carefully.

J. Jealousy: How often does your OC get jealous of other people? Do they keep their jealousy in check, or does it influence their behavior?

I’d say he could be prone to some jealousy? He is pretty hard on himself about things + he’s an important person to his society and so I think he’s jealous of the freedom others have.

K. Knack: What is something your OC is skilled at?

Juggling. It’s something that he enjoys doing to pass the time.

L. Loathe: What qualities does your OC loathe in other people? Do they tend to be judgmental of others, even when it isn’t warranted?

Cruelty. He is not a fan of being cruel, especially just for the sake of it. He’s definitely a bit judgmental but he tries to get to know others before passing judgment.

M. Mistake: Describe a time your OC did something bad, or was wrong about something.

I can’t because.... spoilers.

N. Negative: What does your OC believe is their worst flaw?

His rigidity, he wishes he was more carefree and free spirited but he just isn’t.

O. Outlook: Is your OC more optimistic, pessimistic, or realistic? How likely are they to believe a bad person can change?

He’s more of a realist. I think he wants to be an optimist but finds that he gets hurt or disappointed a lot less if he’s more realistic. I think deep down he believes all people are inherently good, but there are some he believes are rotten from the inside out too.

P. Positive: What does your OC believe is their best personality trait?

His strength. I don’t mean his physical strength; but more the idea that he is resilient and mentally strong.

Q. Quirk: Does your OC have any (minor) bad habits? If so, what? (Biting their nails, sleeping in, procrastinating, etc.)

Nail biting, he’s bit them down to the quick. He does it more in times of stress and it’s not a good look.

R. Respect: What qualities does your OC admire in other people?

Boldness, bravery, compassion.

S. Success: Describe a time your OC did something good, or was right when others were wrong.

Spoilers......

T. Troubled: Which of your OCs is the most flawed?

Balor; I mean he is an evil demon king.

U. Upgrade: Does your OC strive for self-improvement, or are they less concerned about becoming a better person?

Always working on self improvement. Fionn always wants to be the best person he can be even if that means that he’s wrong sometimes.

V. Value: Is your OC more selfish or selfless? What would they sacrifice for a loved one? What would they sacrifice for a stranger?

Selfless, 100%. He would absolutely sacrifice anything, including his life for a loved one. I also think he’d do the same for strangers.

W. Worst: What is your OC’s worst flaw?

It goes hand in hand with the last question. His selflessness can get him into trouble. He sacrifices a lot for people and sometimes gets betrayed anyways.

X. X-ray: Does your OC believe that they’re a good person? Would you consider them a good person?

He considers himself a good person but he knows he could be better. I think he’s a VERY good person and I love him. He’s my baby.

Y. Young: How has your OC been influenced by their past? Are they a better person because of their past, or a worse one?

His past is his biggest influence. Without spoilers, makes him a better person.

Z. Zealous: Does your OC have any guilty pleasures? If so, what? (Watching reality TV, drinking soda, reading cheesy romance novels, etc.)

I don’t think he considers anything a guilty pleasure.

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality: Initial impressions

Titles can be deceiving.

CW: child abuse, childhood trauma, mental illness, depression, anxiety

I think I can recall hearing about Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality at some point in the fairly distant past, though I can’t be sure. What I can say with relative certainty is that if I did encounter it, I probably wasn’t very likely to read it. I probably assumed that HPMOR was one of those obnoxiously misguided and pedantic critiques of fiction by scientists who neither know how to utilize suspension of disbelief, nor understand the basic nature of symbolism. At best, I might have imagined it to be a piece attempting to discover or construct a coherent logic from the magic within the Harry Potter universe, just for the pure amusement value, the absurdity of attempting to apply logic to that which defies it. I could see the appeal of that, but probably not 122 chapters worth of it.

After actually reading the first ten chapters of HPMOR, however, I can say that my first guess was incorrect, and my second guess was insufficient. HPMOR does capitalize on that humorous absurdity, but that’s hardly the core of the story.

One major reason for my misperceptions was a lack of familiarity with the difference between science and rationality. In layspeak, we often use these terms near interchangeably, and while they do go hand-in-hand to some extent, they’re not the same. Science is a method of obtaining knowledge. Rationality is an approach to living life, which dictates utilizing philosophy and science to obtain desired outcomes. You can be a scientist and be completely irrational, which actually reflects back on my initial concern; there are some scientists who will attempt to use the theory and language of science to denigrate works of art, completely ignoring the point of art.

HPMOR itself deals with this problem, not only the conflation of science with rationality, but the conflation of science and rationality and aptitude and general intelligence. The very first chapter highlights how AU Harry’s (Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, HJPEV for short) father is a professor, knowledgeable about science, presumably quite intelligent, and yet behaves incredibly irrationally. Rather than attempting to settle the dispute about the existence of magic objectively, he refuses to entertain the idea on principle, saying, “Magic is just about the most unscientific thing there is!”

And here’s where the real story begins to unfold. What makes HPMOR hit hard, at least for me, is not the discussion of science and rationality in the abstract, or even the very useful, illustrative scenarios, but the emotional struggle of trying to be a rational person in an irrational world, especially when you’re a child. In so many ways, HPMOR is a story about the trauma of growing up as a so-called “gifted” child. Almost every chapter that I read was painfully reminiscent of my own childhood:

Seeing my parents speculate and argue endlessly over things that could be proven;

Attempting to reason with them only to be shut down;

Having my value in their eyes dependent on their perception of my intelligence and academic performance, being praised for when I was perceived to have succeeded in these matters, while at the same time having my perspective completely ignored when it came to anything that mattered;

Being mocked relentlessly for things I did when I was younger, ignoring the incredibly rapid growth that defines childhood;

Constantly feeling as though, as HJPEV puts it, I was being treated as “subhuman,” my feelings, thoughts, and opinions all invalid because of my age;

Feeling so, so frustrated that the people who were supposed to protect me were so absurdly, ridiculously, unfairly, woefully, tragically ill-equipped to do so.

I became hopelessly isolated from my parents, and my self-esteem became self-degrading. Being told over and over again how what I felt or thought didn’t matter because I was only a child made me doubt and disrespect my own emotions and doubt my very sanity. I don’t think that my parents meant to gaslight me, but that’s exactly what they did. For years, and years, and years, and it hurts. so. much. It...I cannot express how much it hurts.

And I am left with all of this damage, these lines of irrationality programmed into my brain, this obsessive need to to be perceived as intelligent in order to believe that I could be loved, in order to merely function, this irrationality that I hate so much because it hurt me so much is now encoded into my very being and it fills me with existential horror to this day.

It was difficult for me to get through as much of HPMOR as I did, and I genuinely wonder if it would be detrimental to my mental health to go on. It triggers both the suffering that comes with remembering past trauma as well as the compulsions that have resulted from that trauma. Hearing HJPEV list all the books he’s read sends a bolt of anxiety down my spine, knowing that I will never measure up to people like him, I will never have read enough, I will never be smart enough, I will never...be...enough—

Enough. I know when to stop torturing myself.

I was shocked to see how quickly HPMOR itself comes to the conclusion that what HJPEV has endured is a form of child abuse. It took me years to become comfortable using the words “abuse” and “trauma” to describe my experiences, and HPMOR introduces the word “abuse” in Chapter 6! I give HPMOR’s McGonagall much less credit than HJPEV does, but even so, it’s kind of astonishing to me to see an adult pick up on the existence of abuse in a so-called gifted child, even in fiction. I find myself wondering how I might have turned out differently if I had had someone like McGonagall in my life, or someone better than McGonagall in my life, who had told me in no uncertain terms, “What is happening to you is abuse, it is not okay, it is not your fault, and while I’m unable to legally extricate you from your unfortunate circumstances, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

Because that didn’t happen. No one told me that I was abused or damaged. They told me that I was “smart,” “gifted,” “advanced,” or “mature”; and if they noticed anything odd about my behavior, it was because I was just “quiet,” “shy,” “introverted,” or “diligent.”

I also find myself wondering if I might have been a little different if I had read HPMOR when I first had the chance. But then again, I don’t know if I would have understood it as I do now, after years of studying psychology and working to heal myself.

God, seeing it all laid out so starkly, things I worked years to understand, in a few short chapters of someone’s fucking fanfiction*...I sure do feel like an idiot.

But then, this whole conversation has primed me to feel those feelings.

I must not undervalue myself. I am not playing that game. That game is the problem.

One thing does irritate me, though. Putting aside my misconceptions about HMPOR specifically, there’s this huge barrier to entry to the rationalist community in general. I think people perceive (correctly, as far as I can tell) that it is a community of highly intelligent people, who are highly skilled in STEM disciplines, particularly math. The one friend who could have introduced me to all this was someone who I saw as hopelessly more intelligent than I, and that perceived disparity made it incredibly difficult to approach him even as I admired him, envied him, and desperately needed the things that he could teach me. (I don’t know what things were like on his end. I still don’t.)

We’ve already seen that someone can be highly intelligent and completely irrational. I wish we could take that logic a step further and really make clear that rationality is not something that requires high intelligence. As with learning anything, intelligence helps, but intelligence can’t be a prerequisite for this skillset, because literally everyone should have it. I guess this might be controversial, but so far as I can tell, rationality is just the best way to go through life. And of course, knowing the best way to move forward is especially critical for those of us leaving behind dark pasts.

For fuck’s sake, this doesn’t have anything to do with quarks or discrete math or machine learning. It has everything to do with reducing human suffering.

And I wish...I really wish that there was a way to share this world with my friends. The only reason that I made it here is that I’ve constantly existed on the borderline, wavering around the threshold of what is broadly considered intelligent, attempting mastery of both STEM and humanities, science and art. As much as I doubt and denigrate myself, I am able, if I really want to, under certain favorable circumstances, to convince myself that I belong here. Not all of my friends have the same privilege. I have friends who have lived their whole lives believing that they just aren’t that smart, or that they aren’t any good at math or science. Maybe they decided early on that that stuff wasn’t for them, or maybe they tried and felt like they failed. I know that, for many people, academic language is frustrating, triggering, or otherwise completely inaccessible. I know that many people will find HJPEV absolutely insufferable and most of what he says incomprehensible.

And I’m really not sure what to do about that. I’ve not sure how to convince people that striving for rationality is both possible and worthwhile for everyone, and if I do convince them, I’m not sure what to actually show them that will make any sense to them.

I don’t know. Maybe it does have a bit to do with math. Because a lot of what I get from rationality, I can get from other places, be that art or psychology or witchcraft, but the stuff that is unique does tend to be the mathematical and statistical thinking. And philosophical thinking, academic thinking. Talking about things with precision...That’s always been my problem with trying to translate the academic into ordinary speech, it feels like all the precision is being lost. To be precise, you need unique words, and unique words tend to be obscure, and people find obscure words upsetting.

Obviously, this isn’t a problem I’m going to solve in this blog post. But it’s something to think about.

So, I guess that’s my review of the first ten chapters of HPMOR, if you can call it that. If one of the purposes of fiction is to unlock a bizarrely intense cocktail of existential horror and unadulterated wrath deriving from the wrongs of one’s childhood—and I certainly believe it is—then HPMOR succeeds spectacularly.

*Edited to add: In my unfortunate compulsion to drag myself down, I often drag down other things or people too. I shouldn’t trivialize the value of fanfiction. And, quite honestly, I really shouldn’t be surprised that it could be a source of profound insight. After all, writing fanfiction has been one of my own ways to cope with and sort through my emotions and illnesses for a long, long time.

[momentous000]

Americanized: A struggle with identity and culture

This is a reflective essay I wrote for my first semester college english class. It was the first college essay I was assigned to write  and I found it intimidating, realizing that my writing skills will finally be put to the test. I wanted to share my story because I know that I am not alone in struggling with these experiences. I am still struggling with balancing two cultures and learning to make peace with feelings of frustration and shame. 

As first-generation immigrants, my parents are unfamiliar with the American education system, specifically, college in its entirety. While my parents have been supportive of my education, they do not have the knowledge or time to guide me along the process. As a result, I was forced to become independent within my academic journey. In becoming self-reliant and navigating through The Academy on my own, I struggled to balance my cultural and academic identity.

Growing up, my parents instilled in me the importance of education as a foundation for success. The guidance they provided was limited to: “Be a good student,” which meant, “earn good grades.” To please my parents, I finished my homework, studied dutifully, and earned fridge-worthy grades throughout my academic career. They congratulated me on every report card, with the same phrase: “Good job, anak, keep doing well,” my father would always write on every report card. With every A I brought home, they sounded like a broken record, it started to feel like they were mocking me. Their response was so superficial, so focused on the letter grade. I graduated high school with a 4.2 GPA, decorated with cords. According to my parents’ definition, this proved I am a good student. They were proud of me.

Nevertheless, I know a good student is not defined by the grades they earn. I consider myself a good student because I value and apply the knowledge I learn beyond the classroom setting. But, the more I learned, the more I withdrew myself from my family to focus on my studies. In prioritizing my academics, I struggled to balance my Filipino identity. The more serious I was about perfecting my academic skills, the more I held my parents accountable for the same standards they placed on me. While dealing with my perfectionism and familial expectations, I feel compelled to further conform to the academic standards of the Model Minority Myth. A model minority is a racial group whose members are perceived to have a higher level of success compared to others. The media often portrays Asians as a poster child for this myth, using seemingly positive stereotypes, such as “all Asians are good at math.” Not only does this have detrimental effects on diverse Asian ethnicities, but also race-relations in general.

As a result, the Model Minority Myth and my parents’ expectations forced me to bolster my sense of agency. Both conditioned me to attach my self-worth to my academic accomplishments. As a second-generation college student, would I become another prized possession, a trophy, for my family? My older sister, fortunately, went through the college experience before me, attending Northern Virginia Community College (NVCC) and successfully transferring, and graduating from the University of Virginia (UVA). Despite our similar paths, the future of my education solely rests in my hands. I must have exigence because if I do not, how will I repay my parents for their sacrifices, if not for an educated daughter destined to pursue a better life than theirs?

For this reason, I adopted the habits that eventually isolated me from my family, such that of Rodriguez in Scholarship boy: “with ever-increasing intensity, I devoted myself to my studies. I became bookish, puzzling to all my family. My ambition set me apart.” Like Rodriguez, when I was in high school, I would come home every day armed with knowledge I was eager to share with my parents. My eyes lit up, almost alarmingly, chattering on about Crime and Punishment. Yet, as I was rapt in my speech, my mother’s eyes glazed over. She curtly commented on how all the books we were reading were too old, too Eurocentric:

“Fyodor… ano? Russian, talaga? Why do they make you read those books?”

“It’s a classical novel, mom. It brilliantly explores morality and religion—”

“He murdered someone? Wow! Don’t start thinking like him!” “The author didn’t commit a murder. Raskolnikov is a complex character that—” “Why all the books you talk about are old? No modern or Asian?”

“Well, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad—”

“Do you have to write an essay on it?”

“Yes.”

I started to feel contempt against my parents’ way of life. Their philosophy was “not only different but starkly opposed to that of the classroom,” as stated by Rodriguez.

While I am adopting the identity of a scholar, according to my parents, I am becoming Americanized. In his song Kuya Derrick, Nak, a Filipino-American rapper, shares his similar struggles with maintaining his identity: “Our parents wanted us to grow up in America without becoming American.” My parents assumed American education was stripping me of my native culture because they claim The Academy has a standard, monolithic, mindset. Despite explaining The Academy’s emphasis on not only diversity in ethnicity, but as well as in thought, I do agree with them: I am struggling to be proud of, to retain, my Filipino identity while simultaneously becoming a member of The Academy.

In our image exercise in class, I chose the image with a group of people surrounded by thought bubbles and collaboration. I interpreted the frenzy of intellect as an example of scholars sharing their insights in The Academy. As an introvert, I see myself as the first person from the right, the one listening and contemplating the ideas they learned. While I do not see my introversion as a problem, my analytical thinking exacerbates my shyness and self-criticism. These issues not only hinder my contributions, but growth in The Academy. Currently, I am weighed down by the “Panic Monster.” To guarantee my successful transfer to UVA, he is always awake in my mind, pressuring me to confine myself in the yellow walls of my aunt’s attic, suffocating me with the constant transfer of knowledge. The only way to shut him up is to obey his orders: study and the “Panic Monster” takes a nap. To make the most of my college experience and to better engage in The Academy’s frenzy of knowledge, I plan to become more confident in my skills and embrace a hint of extraversion.

Now that I am paying for my education, I feel a profound sense of determination to take advantage of my resources. I do not want to be a passive student, just dutifully doing their work and waiting for two years to go by. I will participate in class discussions, connect with my professors, and take honors courses to grow further as a scholar. I will exhaust this campus of its resources by taking advantage of the tutoring centers, getting free merchandise from Student Life, and joining campus clubs such as the Honors Club and the Pride Alliance. To refrain from wasting the precious days of my “Life Calendar,” as Urban explains, I will further challenge my shyness by becoming involved outside of NVCC’s campus. I will explore Annandale, instead of constantly being cooped up in my aunt’s attic, and meet new people from various backgrounds in one of the most diverse colleges in America.

My parents, like most immigrants, wanted me to succeed and pursue the opportunities they missed. They were living their American Dream vicariously through me. I should be grateful for their sacrifices. While they do not have the same intellectual curiosity as I do, I take for “granted their enormous native intelligence,” as Rodriguez confessed. While I have an English accent in Tagalog, my parents can fluently write and speak in our native tongue. While I am forgetting the language, they manage to speak both English, Tagalog, and even a regional dialect, though they have an accent. While I can quote classical literature, they can cook a variety of traditional Filipino cuisine that I enjoyed eating growing up and still do today. While I held contempt for them, imagine how heartbroken they felt when they witnessed their child becoming increasingly disconnected and foreign from their family. I want to learn more about my roots, I want to study my history.

I strive to express gratitude towards my parents’ strength in moving us here after political persecution and extrajudicial killings of human rights advocates in the Philippines forced us to flee and seek refuge in America. I strive to reclaim my Filipino identity and culture by being less judgmental, and truly understanding my parents’ way of life, our culture’s way of life. I must not let the rules of The Academy and my Eurocentric education consume my identity. I aim to learn how to cook traditional meals, learn our rich native history, and respond to my parents in Tagalog.

footnotes:

A reference to the first Academy, founded by Plato. It is also used to describe the overall intellectual work and environment of colleges or universities.

anak means child in Tagalog, the main language of the Philippines.

“What”

“Really”

“Older brother”

The name Tim Urban coined for upcoming deadlines during his TEDTalk on procrastination.

[eryiss]

Chapter Ten - Coronating

Summary: Laxus Dreyar, prince of Fiore, has been trapped in the town of Magnolia for months by order of his grandfather. After a failed attempt at leaving ends up with the prince injured, his grandfather punishes him by adding a new guard to his retainer team. An arrogant, up-tight, overly confident, handsome bastard named Freed Justine. [Fraxus | Fantasy AU]

Warnings: Mentions of blood, a relatively graphic murder, and mentions of child abuse. This is a bit of a dark one, but I hope it's satisfying. And as this is the final chapter, I hope you enjoyed it.

You can read this on FanFiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. You can find the chapter list here. Hope you enjoy it ^.^

Chapter Ten – Coronating

Standing at the foot of the cathedral, Laxus felt weird. He was filled with a contradictory mix of nervousness and confidence. Looking at the large wooden doors closed before him, the biggest sensation was pride. Pride in himself, who he had become, and who he was going to be.

A king.

It was the first day of the new year, and the day of his coronation. He was dressed in his most decedent clothing, a luxurious red robe resting against his shoulders. The suit he wore was emblazoned with golden trimmings, mixed with a black velvet lining. In that moment, he looked more regal than he ever had before. It was incredibly empowering in a way that Laxus couldn't put into words.

Standing nearly a foot beside him, was Freed. He too was dressed in his most lavish clothing; the same outfit he wore during his exhibition fight with Gildarts. Although the rush of the day meant he hadn't spent much time with Freed, Laxus knew he looked beautiful.

He always did look beautiful, actually.

Having Freed nearby did a lot to calm Laxus down. To have someone who was unequivocally on his side, ready to stand his corner, filled him with a sense of confidence nothing else could. To have that man not only be his guard and protector, but also his lover, meant the confidence gleamed increased tenfold. He even dared to smile a little; a year ago he wouldn't have dreamed he and Freed would have such a relationship. Funny how it turned out.

From the cathedral, Laxus could hear his grandfather's speech. He spoke of how honoured he was that he had served for them, and how he knew that Laxus would be an equally fair and strong king. Laxus had heard the speech before, and knew he was soon going to be introduced formally, and his nerves flared.

A hand pressed against his back, comforting and soft. It was Freed's, and Laxus pushed back against it. The action was small and the moment fleeting, but Laxus appreciated it.

"Please rise for your new king!"

Laxus readied himself, and Freed removed his hand. The large wooden doors were slowly opened, revealing Laxus to the congregation in the cathedral. People from all aspects of life had gathered, ranging from nobles to shopkeepers. The richest and the poorest. The people who Laxus would soon be serving as their king, all represented by the thousand people now standing and watching him. This was his moment, the beginning of his reign of king.

He began walking slowly down the aisle. The sound of his boots resonating against the marble echoed around the silent chamber, and Laxus kept his eyes trained forward. Everyone was watching him, perhaps assessing him. It was intimidating.

A moment later, as prepared, Freed began walking behind him. He too was being sworn in, as knight of the realm, and to hear his footsteps spurred Laxus on. Freed was there, so he could do this.

Even with that in mind, the walk seemed to last for an eternity.

When he reached the front of the cathedral, he stood before his grandfather. Makarov was sitting at his throne, crown resting beside him. He was also dressed in his finery and was wearing an expression that exuded pride. Laxus dropped to one knee before him, bowing his head and looking at the white marble before him. He took the moment of rest to calm his nerves and steady his breath, closing his eyes.

He heard a slight shifting to his left, and saw that Freed was now kneeling beside him. He glanced to his retainer, who sent him a split-second smile before keeping his eyes on the marble.

Although he couldn't see it, Laxus knew that his grandfather had stood up from the throne. He walked towards the two kneeling men and stood in front of Freed. His sword had been removed from his scabbard and Laxus, from the corner of his eye, could see the blade resting on Freed's right shoulder. It rested there a moment before Makarov started to talk again.

"Freed Justine," The king's voice resonated through the cathedral. "As knight of the realm, it will be your sworn vow to protect this land. You will fight to your last breath to keep this kingdom safe and will do so without hesitation nor fear. Do you swear to withhold this vow for as long as you live?"

"I swear," Freed promised without hesitation.

With a slow movement, the sword moved from his right shoulder to his left. Despite the expectations of the ritual, Laxus couldn't stop himself from looking towards his retainer and lover. He didn't seem even slightly nervous.

"As knight of the realm, you will be expected to put the life of your king before your own. You will vow to keep him safe and protected no matter what detriment comes to you. You serve him, and act as his guardian," Makarov continued, voice still loud enough for all to hear. "Do you swear to withhold this vow for as long as you live?"

"I swear," Freed promised again.

"Present your right hand," Makarov demanded.

Freed did as he was told, presenting his hand to the king. The blade of the sword was placed upon it, and with a slow movement Makarov cut the skin. It was deep enough to leave a scar, but Freed didn't so much as wince at the pain. A layer of blood covered the sword, of which Makarov raised into the air. He walked to a font made of glass, tall and thin with clear water filling it, and placed the blood-soaked sword inside of it. The blood washed off the weapon and merged with the water, giving it a thin red colouring.

Footsteps approached Freed, and his still raised hand was covered in a bandage. A small healing spell was chanted, and the bandage was removed, revealing a deep but clean scar. Freed lowered his hand, a small smile on his face.

"I now pronounce you Sir Freed Justine, knight of the realm and protector of the nation," Makarov declared.

Laxus couldn't imagine how that must have affected Freed. From being seen as a criminal in the castle's dungeon to being perhaps the most respected knight in the kingdom, it must have been euphoric to feel. If anyone deserved to feel that way, Laxus was damn sure that it was Freed.

There was silence for a moment. Laxus watched with a bowed head as Makarov removed the sword from the glass font and wiped it dry. He then approached the two men again, this time standing in front of Laxus. The blonde felt the weight of the heavy sword against his right shoulder, and his nerves flared up again. But he could do this, the crown was his damn birth right and this nervousness was nothing he couldn't deal with.

"Laxus Dreyar," Makarov began again. "As king of this land, you must vow to commit yourself fully to its fulfilment. You must be willing to sacrifice all aspects of yourself for the betterment of the people over whom you will rule. You must strive to bring greatness to all your subjects, to make sure they're safe in all aspects of their lives. Do you swear to keep this vow?"

"I swear," Laxus said, voice waving slightly.

The sword was moved from his right shoulder to his left.

"As king of this land, you must vow to show respect to this kingdom and its people. You must understand the issues faced by your subjects and treat them with care. You must also show ruthlessness and authority in times of strife and austerity. You must make decisions unthinkable for the greatness of this land, no matter the reflection it has on you and your character. Do you swear to keep this vow?"

"I swear," Laxus said again, voice strong now.

"Raise your right hand."

Laxus did so and felt the cool steel resting against the palm of his hand. A moment later the blade started to slice into him, creating an identical cut to the one Freed had been given. It was painful of course, but Laxus did his best not to react to it. He glanced at Freed again, who gave him a small smile to comfort him. It was enough to keep Laxus silent.

As he had with Freed, Makarov stood back from Laxus and walked to the glass and marble font. He placed the sword in the water again and allowed Laxus' blood to mix with Freed's. The water became redder, and Laxus felt himself smile. The combination of blood was meant to symbolise the souls of a knight and a king being bonded together.

With their relationship, it felt like more than that.

Someone walked towards Laxus and wrapped his hand in a thick bandage. They then chanted a quiet spell that sent tingles down Laxus' spine as the wound was sealed in a scar. When the bandage was removed, Makarov walked to the throne and picked up the crown.

"From one king to the next," Makarov stated, his voice cracking a little. "I present to you the crown of this land."

As rehearsed, Laxus looked up. The ornate golden crown was placed atop his head. It was a small sensation but thrilling. Makarov walked back to the throne and picked up a large wooden box. Laxus frowned a little, not knowing what this one. They had rehearsed this day multiple times, and this hadnt happened once.

"And as your grandfather, I present a gift to you," He said, opening the box. "A sword, imbued with the magic of our family."

From the wooden box, a weapon was shown. It was a long, silver sword with a jutting diagonal blade. In the centre of the blade was a thin lining of yellow gemstones. It was a beautiful weapon, one that Laxus had never seen before.

"With this sword, the element of lightning will be yours to control," Makarov stated.

Laxus raised both hands and allowed Makarov to place to weapon in them. Even as he touched it, he felt a slight ripple fizzle through him. His newly scarred right hand, which touched the hilt of the weapon, was momentarily overtaken by ripples of lightning. It should have been painful, or at least noticeable, but all Laxus could feel was comfort. As if he was naturally inclined to this weapon and the lightning it apparently contained.

Makarov stood back, a look of pride on his face.

"You may both rise."

As instructed, Freed and Laxus both rose to their feet.

"It is perhaps the greatest pleasure of my life to introduce your new king," Makarov continued, and his voice was wavering now. "King Laxus Dreyar."

He was the king.

As the two men turned to face the rest of the cathedral, everybody had knelt for them. It was surreal, to be the leader of these people; to have their respect in such a way. But, for reasons that Laxus couldn't fathom, he wasn't panicked by this. Maybe it was because he had his grandfather's help, maybe it was because he had Freed on his side, he didn't know. But he wasn't panicked, he wasn't scared. He was excited. Because he could do this.

And then there was darkness.

It was instant. All the light streaming from outside of the cathedral vanished within a second, as if the sun had disappeared. The many candles in the cathedral were the only source of light, and they flickered manically as if a wind was trying to extinguish them. Laxus looked around, trying to find a source of this, but found nothing. People were starting to panic.

"Dark magic," Freed said, and Laxus glanced to him. "I'm not sure what type. But there's a lot of it. I think it's an entrapment spell."

"Like your runes?"

"Similar. But rather than making a wall, it makes a haze," Freed removed his sword from his scabbard, and Laxus tightened his grip on the weapon he just received.

From the door where they had been standing, Bickslow and Evergreen ran towards the two men. Makarov also approached them from behind, looking as panicked as everyone felt. Laxus looked outside of the windows to see a thick black mist had started to form and thicken. It didn't seem to be getting into the building, however, which was good.

"How does it trap people?" Makarov asked, also looking at the fog.

"It depends on what the caster wanted. It can range from changing your direction, so you simply walk back on yourself, to ripping the flesh off anyone who goes inside it. I've no idea how bad this will be."

"Fuck," Laxus hissed. "Can it be broken?"

"Not in it's entirety, no," Freed frowned. "But magic can always be overwhelmed by other magic. If enough power hit a concentrated part of the fog, it should break through, enough to get people through it unharmed at least."

"Okay," Laxus nodded. He needed to take control. "Ever, get the doors open and blast the fog with everything you've got. Bix, get everyone you know who has even an ounce of magic in a group and have them join Ever. Gramps, you need to get everyone to calm down so nobody does anything stupid. Anyone who isn't a knight or working on the magic needs to be together, near the doors so they can get out if the fog clears."

They all nodded, going to their specific jobs. Evergreen was almost immediately blasting the fog with whatever Fairy Magic she had. Bickslow was rushing through the guards and royal staff he knew had magic, directing them to Evergreen, and Makarov had begun addressing the panicking crowds.

"I should help Evergreen," Freed stated, but Laxus put a hand on his shoulder before he could move.

"This ain't a coincidence, this is an attack. And if you're gonna attack a coronation, the obvious target would be me," Laxus explained quickly. "If they focus on me, they can't hurt anyone else. And if you're defending me, it'll take a lot longer to kill me. More time to get people out."

Freed nodded. "Of course."

As they readied themselves for attack, a loud clattering came from above. A moment later, the bricks making up the ceiling gave in, slamming to the floor and cracking the throne that they landed on. The debris barely missed the two men, and they spun around to see the cause of the destruction. When they looked up, they were met with a thin layer of fog streaming down, pooling in front of them.

The fog started to shift and change. It grew to a silhouette of a man, tall and broad shouldered. As the knight and king readied their weapons, the figure of shadows began to grow more details, magical energy pulsing around them. Then, a moment later, the shadow left and revealed its creator.

Ivan.

Laxus hadnt seen him since his exile. Since he walked into the man's laboratory that night. Since he saw him experimenting on the lacrima that was intended to be forced into his body. Since Makarov had mercifully ripped open the shackles Laxus had been bound by before his body was ripped apart for the damn crystal that Ivan claimed would make him powerful.

Of course it was him doing this. Of course the psychopath was so power hungry that he couldn't handle the fact that Laxus was becoming king and not him. Of course he was willing to break his exile to fuck over Laxus' life again.

"Aren't you a smart little boy," Ivan spoke, and Laxus felt rage fill him. "But so easy to predict. Your grandfather filled you with all his kindness bullshit, as expected. So of course you'd save your redundant fucking subjects over yourself."

Ivan took a step forward, and Laxus found himself frozen.

"The fog wasn't to trap them, son," He spat the word out. "It was to distract them and trap you."

"Why are you here, Ivan?" Laxus demanded, white knuckling his grip on the weapon.

"Because I refuse to let a weak child spawned from a slut take the position that is mine!" Ivan suddenly roared, darkness swirling around him. "You will not be king, son. That title was meant for me and me alone."

"So are you gonna kill me?" Laxus spat back. "I am so much fucking stronger than I used to be, so fucking try it."

"Are you now?" Ivan grinned, expression mad. "Or do you just have a new pet to look after you."

He turned to Freed, who had barely managed to stop himself from plunging his sword through the man's chest. The only thing that had stopped him was the fact Laxus had a sword of his own, and if he wanted his father dead then he would have done so himself or given the order for Freed to do it. But as Ivan looked at him with animalistic sadism, Freed felt more and more tempted to kill the man without the order.

Freed knew what Ivan had done to Laxus. The manipulations, the torture, the experiments done to him in the late hours of the night. The blonde still had nightmares from time to time, still struggled with the trauma of what he went through. What this bastard had done to him.

"Mr Justine, a pleasure to meet you at last."

Ivan took a step towards Freed. With a sudden lurch, he pushed his hand forward and wrapped it around Freed's neck. He lifted the man off the ground by his throat, shadows hazing around his hand as he did so. Laxus watched as Freed began to struggle for breath, grabbing for the hand wrapped around his neck.

"If I send a man to kill my son, that is my business and nobody else's!" Ivan roared again. "If you decide to stop him, then I am justified in seeking revenge."

Laxus acted without thinking. He raised the sword and tried to strike out at Ivan's arm. The smoke around it swarmed around the weapon, stopping it before it could make contact with the man. Ivan slowly looked towards Laxus with a maniacal smile plastered on his face. He maintained eye contact with him, tightening his grip around Freed's throat.

"I would kill him," Ivan said without emotion. "But I think it would be more fun to see him get swarmed, don't you?"

Ivan threw Freed to the side of the room like he weighed nothing. He clattered onto the floor, catching his breath. Laxus ran towards him, but a thick wall of smoke stopped him. He tried to push through it, but his movements slowed as if he were walking through water, until he eventually was forced to stop.

"Look up, dear child," Ivan demanded.

Laxus did, and through the hole in the ceiling came hundreds of small white specs. When they got closer Laxus could see they seemed to be paper figures of people. They spun around each other, merging into larger forms of the same paper figure. About twenty of the figures now stood in the cathedral. Laxus turned to Freed, who looked… terrified.

"Shikigami," Freed whispered, and Laxus' eyes widened.

Shikigami was a forbidden magic. It was one of the few forms of necromancy known to still work. It was one of the cruellest forms of necromancy as well; the person casting the spell needed to kill the person to bring them back. And even when they did, they weren't truly brought back. They were just puppets, projected on a paper doll with their bodies being used by the evil person who brought them back. And now Ivan was using it.

Using it on Freed.

Laxus tried to break free of the shadows, to use the sword in some way, but he couldn't move. His head was immobilised now, forcing him to watch as the paper dolls began to advance on Freed. He couldn't do anything.

The dolls were starting to flicker now, gaining the bodies of people Ivan had killed. Laxus saw the leading doll to be the same yellow haired madman who had attempted to kill him months prior; of course his father had been responsible for that. But Freed had been the one to kill him, so the only way that Ivan could be using his corpse would be if he brought him back to life, only to kill him again to add to his arsenal of zombies

It was sick. Twisted. Evil.

The madman's corpse raised an arm, and a stream of yellow and black energy shot from his hand. Freed barely managed to stand before he was hit by the attack, knocked into one of the cathedral's pews, his back cracking as it happened.

Advancing quicker now, the dolls got closer and closer to Freed. The knight managed to stand up again, holding his sword, and Laxus could hear Ivan tut. He made a gesture with his hand, and the dolls sped up further. Some stayed back, such as the madman's corpse, and started to cast spells. Some spells Freed managed to deflect with his sword, but others hit him and knocked him back further. He was clearly getting overwhelmed, and the attacks weren't stopping.

Laxus felt sick.

"You said you've gotten stronger, Laxus," Ivan taunted. "But you haven't. All you have is a new guard, and he's about to die. And then you'll die too."

Laxus couldn't speak. He couldn't even move his mouth.

He was forced to watch as another of the madman's attacks slammed into Freed's stomach, burning through some of his clothing and leaving burns on his stomach. Dread filled Laxus as he watched Freed struggle to get up.

The dolls were on him now, surrounding him. Shadows started to form around the mass of dolls, and Laxus felt sick. He knew what was happening; they were trying to turn Freed into one of them. They were going to make Freed a lifeless corpse that was at Ivan's control. Laxus couldn't do anything, and the shadow was so thick around him that nobody else in the cathedral could do anything. He was going to die, and Laxus couldn't do anything.

And then something in the darkness changed. It was no longer made of wispy shadows, but instead a thick viscous ink. A familiar looking darkness, one that gave Laxus a small amount of hope. Freed's magic had always looked like that.

An angered, mutated roar filled the room. It was Freed.

With an explosion of inky darkness, the dolls were thrown off the man and ripped apart. The blackness dissipated a moment later, revealing Freed. But he was different. Half of his body had been replaced by the demonic form, his entire face now grey and scaly with large purple horns coming from his head. The right of his chest was grey, with black feathers sprouting form him. His face was contorted in a snarl aimed at Ivan.

This was the most demonic he had ever been. If he could, Laxus would have smiled.

The dolls were quick to reform, and Laxus could see from the corner of his eye that Ivan was panicking a little; Freed's magic had been kept a secret even from him. And now he was backfooted, because he didn't know just how strong Freed could be.

Nobody knew. Freed was a juggernaut of magic energy with just his forearm replaced by his demonic self. With this much of himself demonic, he might very well be unstoppable.

But Laxus was still trapped.

He couldn't leave Freed to fight by himself; Ivan always had contingency plans and Laxus didn't want Freed to face that alone. But he couldn't move, he was stuck mid run with his hand gripping the sword. He thought through everything he knew about magic in hopes of a way of figuring how to get out. One such idea came when he heard the sound of Evergreen casting another spell on the fog around the cathedral.

Magic can always be overwhelmed by magic.

Ivan was a powerful magician, but he was doing this on his own, and his power wasn't limitless. Keeping Laxus in place must have been the least important of the spells he was using at that moment, and therefore the weakest. Logic dictated that it could be overwhelmed pretty easily with magic. And, as king, Laxus now had a sword imbued with magic.

He had never used magic, but knew it was focused around emotions. He needed to put his emotions into overdrive – just as Freed had when they were training – and then hopefully his sword would react.

So, everything he had been in denial about throughout his life, he let go.

How scared he had been of his father throughout his childhood. How much pain he had been in through all the experiments made upon him. How terrified he was of falling asleep when his father's presence was in the castle. How disgusted he was with himself as a child, when Ivan had convinced him that he was a weak boy with no hope of surviving. How hysterical he had been throughout his teenage years when he felt he needed to follow his father's instructions under fear of death. How relieved he had been when his father had been exiled.

How relieved he was when he saw Freed alive again.

That last through sent a roaring scream through Laxus' mouth, and Ivan turned to him instantly. Lightning crackled over the king's body, shooting down him into his arm and into the blade of the sword. An erratic stream of lightning shot out of the weapon, cutting through the shadows and releasing Laxus.

An exhilarating sensation of power coursed through Laxus' veins, as if he were alive for the first time. He looked to his father with a snarl on his face, who looked back at him with wide eyes. Laxus had the upper hand now.

Good. Ivan should be scared.

"You tried to kill me," Laxus said, voice calm. Deadly so.

He raised the sword to the air and shot off another beam of lightning. Ivan barely managed to protect himself by forming a shield of darkness which absorbed the attack. Laxus started to walk towards his father, who took a step back.

"You manipulated me and tortured me as a child," Laxus continued.

Another shot of lightning left the sword. Ivan protected himself again with a cloud of shadows. They were getting more desperate now.

"You tried to have my friends killed in front of me."

A third shot of lightning left the sword. Ivan tried to protect himself, but the crackling beam hit his shoulder and made him scream.

"You were my father, you were meant to make me feel safe. Meant to love me," Laxus growled.

Another shot of lightning hit Ivan in his chest, making him fall to the ground at the foot of the throne. Laxus ran towards him, leaning over him before he could get up.

"But you didn't. You hurt me, scared me, and made me feel weak," Laxus whispered. "But that's okay. Because I have people who do care for me. Who do love me. Who do make me feel safe."

Laxus placed the tip of the sword against Ivan's stomach.

"So there's no real fucking point to you, is there."

Before Ivan could speak, Laxus forced the sword deep inside of him. He took pleasure in feeling the mans insides burst around the metal, until he felt the gentle clink of his sword tapping the floor below Ivan, who was now fully impaled. Laxus leant forward, forcing eye contact with Ivan, who's face was a picture of fear.

He always had been a damn coward.

"Goodbye, father."

Lightning flooded the sword, frying the man from the inside out. He screamed out in pain as his life left him, smoke forming and raising from his body. Laxus watched as any light left in his eyes dies out, and his soul left his body for the final time. Suddenly Ivan slumped, body going limp around the sword.

He was dead.

Everything stopped at once. The smoky magic, the dolls, the darkness. It all went.

Laxus removed the sword from his father's corpse and tossed it to the ground. He breathed heavily, catching his breath as the lighting dancing across him died away. He placed his boot against his father's back, kicking it down the three steps that led up to the throne.

Freed ran towards him, and Laxus relaxed slightly when he saw him. The knight dropped his demon form, and the moment they were close enough to one another Laxus pressed his lips against Freed's. They kissed for a short moment before breaking apart, and Laxus cupped Freed's cheeks.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, voice tender and soft now. He placed their foreheads together.

"I'm fine," Freed panted. "Are you?"

"I'm okay. He didn't hit me," Laxus assured him.

"I meant," Freed's eyes shot to the corpse of Laxus' father. "Because it's okay to be affected by it. Even though you did what was right."

"I know," Laxus nodded. "He was evil, though. And I won't miss him. and perhaps I'll even come to terms with it one day."

"I love you, Laxus," Freed whispered. "Nearly didn't get to say it."

"I love you too," Laxus replied instantly. He pressed his lips against Freed's again.

Laxus felt his knees buckle under him, and Freed quickly guided him to the throne, where he sat.

It was a spectacle to see. The new king, sitting in his throne for the first time, his robes soaked with blood. His sword was slung to the side, covered in his father's blood, and his crown was hidden under debris somewhere. He looked exhausted, barely awake. But he was strong in that moment, perhaps stronger than he had ever been in his life.

Standing beside him was his guard, retainer and lover. His clothes were ripped, his body covered in newly gained wounds, and his eyes swelling with a demonic magic that many considered to be evil. He stood proud beside the throne, hand on his sword protectively as they both looked over the congregation, who looked back at them.

For a moment, there was silence.

"Long live the king!" Makarov declared. A moment later, a roar from the crowed followed him.

Long live the king.

Fin.

[aces-to-apples]

I actually... genuinely really liked the finalé and pretty much everything about it.

It plays into the concept of causality which I've always preferred and which is always ignored when it comes to fictional time-travel, solving the paradox with the causality loop of Genkins becoming Chrovos.

Genkins' own thirst for power and "something interesting" sends him jumping into a goddamn black hole and becoming Chrovos themself, again playing into the causality loop, but Chrovos not even (seemingly) remembering it after a scientific eon. Or, possibly, she remembered how it happened and understood that it had to happen that way because of causality? Unclear, and that's perfectly fine.

The Labyrinth and its A.I. using intruders' own minds, fears, and weaknesses as its weapons because physically harming humans (organic sentients, maybe?) goes against the A.I.s programming.

The Gods being A.I.s themsevles, of course, but that's not necessarily a finalé thing, it's just something that still tickles me as a Halo fan. Ooh, man, the academic papers on rampancy that I just really, really, really want to read, ooh, man!

Donut being the one to understand the causal nature of the time-loop that is the existence of the universe and being the one to, essentially, cause the creation of the universe. Good on you, Donut, for finally becoming a tolerable character.

Caboose broke through the Labyrinth because he really... just doesn't have the self-doubts, fears, or even motivations that everyone else does. He's just here to help his friends. This just in, the Labyrinth doesn't work on people who are neurodivergent!

Along the same vein, I'm actually pretty pleased that the nature of causality doesn't allow the end of the season to retcon Wash's injury. I'm not disabled, but I understand it's a pretty upsetting trope(?) to magically cure disabilities, so the fact that the writers didn't try any of that bullshit feels good to me.

The Grifs getting some genuinely heartfelt connection and character development. Tucker getting past the Shisno Paradox that amplified his worst qualities and bringing him back around to his end-Chorus characterization of being a pretty decent leader who cares about being a good leader. Doc and O'Malley coming to some sort of internal agreement.

And then... Carolina. I've seen a lot of griping that the last few seasons have just been retreading the same ground with Carolina, presumably because the writers don't know what to do with female characters. And I've never really agreed with that.

Seasons nine and ten were her introduction and acceptance into the group (and the cast, lbr), but she still ran away when they crashed on Chorus without saying goodbye. She got closure about the way Freelancer ended, the Director's actions, and the way that he and the project abused her and the Freelancers. Yes, there was some character development about the aftermath of trauma, the benefits and detriments of seeking both justice and vengeance, and ultimately finding ways of moving on after hardship, but that wasn't the focus.

The Chorus Trilogy had her facing the, shall we say, concrete ramifications of Project Freelancer's (as well as the Freelancers') actions, specifically with regards to their enemies. Sharkface, of course, but also Hargrove. It was all just meaningless competition and it ruined Terence's life directly, and the lives on Chorus indirectly through Hargrove. She got closure about the Project's role in the war, the Freelancers' role in the war, and the consequences of them both. She came face to face with proof that they were not the unequivocal good guys that they were led to believe, that they hurt people who didn't deserve it, and learned how accept that and still try to become a better person. There was further character development about accepting that bad things happen to good people, bad people, and just people, and sometimes you're the bad thing that happens to them, but that doesn't necessarily define you and you can always strive to be better than you were. But, again, that wasn't the focus.

I feel like The Shisno Paradox really focused on the mental and emotional impacts of everything that happened. Season 15 was similar to 13 in how the Project caused irreparable harm not just to its members and enemies, but also innocent bystanders, which I'm sure is why it was so heavily criticized, but I feel that was an important distinction to address. Hargrove's soldiers knew what they were getting into and threw themselves into the conflict, whereas Temple and Biff wanted nothing to do with it, were kept far away, but they were still impacted, still harmed.

The guilt of ruining the Blues' and Reds' lives without even knowing or caring dovetails neatly with 16's focus on the guilt of failing to protect loved ones and then overcompensating to their detriment. Trying to make amends for harm done, intentionally or unintentionally, and then making even more of a mess and having to step up and do the hard things to fix it.

And then it all comes together in season 17, and comes to a head in the finalé, when we finally get a really stark look at how far Carolina has come. She meets, if not her past self, then her own conceptualization of her past self and past actions: ambitious to the point of ruthless, callous to the point of uncaring, so desperate for the approval of her father (and, lemme tell you it was incredibly satisfying not just to hear her call the Director her father but also to call out his abuse in the same breath) who had, in effect, died when his wife did. To quote another incredibly-damaged, fictional woman, Carolina "wanted to be loved by a man incapable of giving love", and that need drove her to do a lot of really terrible shit.

But.

The Labyrinth's attempt at getting her to self-destruct by reflecting her worst attributes and actions back at her didn't work, because she's come so far since then. Because she's worked through trauma and loss and come out the other side with a damn good support system of friends and family who love her just as much as she does them. Past!Carolina may have been a better fighter--and that's, like, debatable--but the point is that the Carolina of now doesn't fight alone. She has a team and a family and even when they fail, they do it together and come back to do better, and failure together has come to mean more to Carolina than succeeding alone ever did.

Agent Carolina has spent the last seven seasons healing, and I feel like spreading it across those seasons made it far more satisfying and organic a journey than it would have if they'd crammed it into one arc or even dropped it after the first couple. Healing and becoming a better person isn't linear in real life like it is in the show, but the fact that resolving one set of issues teases out two more that they didn't realize existed feels very true to my experience as a child of an emotionally withholding and abusive parent. It fucks you up in ways you don't even realize until you're staring at a funhouse mirror version of yourself and can see how far you've come.

[glynwarrensarchive]

AVRIEL LORLAMIR GLYNWARREN - CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONNAIRE

BASICS -

1. Height? 

Avi is 6’1.

2. Eye colour?

Brown.

3. Do they need glasses?

No.

4. Scars and birthmark?

He has permanent Lichtenberg figure scars climbing up his left hand and forearm that glow when his powers take effect. He also adorns a large scar across his chest from a previous battle, and lots of smaller scars on his arms and legs from regular mishaps on the farm. He has a brown birthmark on his shoulder blade that’s the size of a golf ball.

5. Tattoos and piercings?

None.

6. Right or left handed?

Right-handed.

7. Any disabilities? Physical or mental.

None at the moment. 

8. Do they have any allergies?

Cottonwood pollen gives him seasonal allergies, though they were really only common in his village and aren’t found everywhere. He hasn’t discovered any allergies in Hegaehend’s environment.

9. Favourite colour?

Forest green.

10. Typical outfits?

Avi has terrible fashion sense, and still wears his farm clothes on off days. Most of his shirts have stains or tears. When he’s on-duty or in battle, his fashion sense is only slightly better. He wears elven chain with dark clothes and a simple cloak with a hood. His most high-quality item is always his shoes, of which he has two pairs. One is a steel-toed pair of work boots, and the others are impressive, longer, and light-weight leather boots that he wears in battle.

11. Do they wear any makeup?

No.

12. What weapon do they use, if any?

With one hand usually wielding his arcane focus (a homemade wand), Avi uses his other hand to hold either a shield or a battleaxe. He also has two daggers on him. 

PERSONALITY -

13. Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

Avriel is terribly optimistic. It’s not naivety, per say, but rather a stubborn refusal to accept that some things just aren’t possible. He believes in miracles, but mostly he believes that if he works hard and is brave, the world will reward him. He believes good things will come to him because he strives for them, and he believes he can make the world a better place. That, in itself, is optimistic.

14. Are they introverted or extroverted?

He is extremely extroverted. He loves talking to strangers, loves making friends, and he’s incredibly good at both. 

15. What are their pet peeves?

Materialism, people who have the means to help others but don’t, bragging, closed-minded people, badly crafted vehicles and roofs, people who neglect their animals, when his nails get too long, geese.

16. What bad habits do they have?

He does everything loudly: yawning, chewing, talking. He bites his nails. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and puts his elbows on tables. He tries extremely hard to be liked. He works himself half to death. He has a self-doubt so deep that he overcompensates with false confidence and claims that he’s invincible, when in reality he’s just not terribly afraid of injury or death. 

17. Do they have any phobias?

Avriel is claustrophobic, and though he has no traceable reason for this fear he has panic attacks when faced with small and enclosed spaces. 

18. How do they display affection?

Avi is very casually physically affectionate with those he cares about. He loves hugs, but more often than hugging he doles out shoulder-squeezes and hair tussles. He also believes strongly in acts of service. Rather than telling people directly how he feels, because it can be difficult for him to articulate his own emotions, he’ll do something practical to help his loved ones. That, or he’ll gift them something small but thoughtful, like the pigments his mother used to bring him from her travels.

19. How competitive are they?

He’s mostly competitive with himself. He doesn’t do much of anything to prove anything to anyone else, or to try and be better than anyone else. However, he’s always competing against his own image of himself and trying to improve in a way that’s often detrimental. 

20. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

He’d make himself more powerful, more capable so it could be easier to make big changes quickly.

21. Do they have any obscure hobbies or routines?

Avi loves to paint, and is pretty good at it. He often paints little poems or sayings in the corners of his paintings to add a bit of a story to them. He also likes to whittle, and though he’s not great at it and has acquired a few scars, it’s a great way to fill his mornings and downtimes. 

He still wakes at the crack of dawn no matter what. Without animals or crops to tend to, however, most of his mornings are freed up, so he spends that time wandering the streets and watching the sunset if he doesn’t have to report to his general. 

BACKSTORY -

22. What are the names and ages of their close family members? Parents, siblings, etc.

Orion and Immra Glynwarren are 62 and 60 years old respectively. His brother, Efrain, is 37. 

23. Is their family alive and are they still in contact with them?

Avi’s parents are alive and well, and he is in contact with them often. His parents remain supportive even though he’s sure they question the path he’s taken and worry about him a fair bit. He stays with his brother every time he’s in Khaggon. They’ve only known each other a couple of months but are very much in contact. 

24. Where are they from? City, nation?

He is from a small, tight-knit farming village in Anari named Corduff. 

25. Did they have a childhood best friend?

Avi’s best friend growing up and to this day is a halfling named Quoric who he met in grade school. Quoric ended up working for Avriel on his farm as they got older, and is one of the most brutally honest people he has in his life. Avi had a lot of great friendships in his village, and quite honestly was a prized member of the community, but Quoric has always been the most loyal and genuine.

26. Have they had any pets? 

Plenty. He loves animals, and would have given his life to save his. He owned all sorts of farm animals for the purpose of selling their product, but he genuinely cared for them and treated them well. He also had several cats and a cattle dog at the time he left Anari, but wasn’t able to bring any of them along. Currently, his parents have an Irish Wolfhound named Ehno and he, of course, acts as though his brother’s cat Weasel is his.

27. Did they grow up rich or poor? What were their living conditions like? 

Avriel grew up in a very small home that his father made beautiful, not necessarily with monetary things but with art and craftsmanship. When he was young, Avi aware that he was poor, because he never went hungry and he always had a roof over his head. However, he realized at a fairly young age that his parents spent all their time and energy on providing for him and had no time for anything else, so he became a farmhand to help them. After inheriting the farm around age eighteen, Avi made a modest profit from his land and lived more comfortably than he had growing up. He was never rich, but he made a name for himself as a great farmer and had enough to provide for his parents and his employees.

28. What is their educational background?

Avi went to grade school, and then was homeschooled by his father for three years, and then got much too busy with work.

29. As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up?

He once heard a story about a knight who single handedly freed all the slaves in a kingdom through cunning and wit and bravery, and that was all he wanted to be. Not just a knight, but a hero - cunning and witty and brave. Realistically, though, he settled on being a farmer.

30. What advice would they give to their younger self?

He would tell himself to never limit himself to the confines of normality. Just because the average person in his town was a farmer didn’t mean he had to be a farmer. Normal works just fine for most people, but he’d tell himself not to strive to be like most people.

31. Growing up, were they ever bullied or were they the bully?

Neither, really. Socially, Avriel had a very easy time as a child.

32. Who do they look up to/who is their role model?

His mother, for her bravery and adventurous nature and his father, for his idealism and kindness.

PRESENT -

33. Do they currently have a place of residence?

He has a room at the Crayhorn Estate, but travels often with Rolland’s army.

34. What is their most treasured possession?

He travels with the painting his father made him for his last birthday. It’s a scene of a phoenix flying above farmland. When he travels back home and has a more permanent place of residency in Khaggon, he plans to bring more of the painting his father made with him. He has one from every birthday since his first. 

35. What is their drink of choice?

Whiskey. 

36. Which king/queen are they loyal to, if any?

Right now his loyalty lies with King Rolland because he seems to need his help the most, though Queen Kaylynn will always have a piece of his loyalty.

37. Have they ever killed anyone?

Yes, but only recently after joining the army. Though he feels some guilt, he knows the people he kills have ill-will for him and everything he stands for, and he knows he stands for good. That being said, no good person can rest easily having seen someone die by their hand, so he prays to make himself feel better.

38. What was their last promise and did they keep it?

His last promise, and the promise he’s been giving to his parents since he left a year ago, was that he will return safely someday with stories that will make them proud. It’s too soon to say if he’s kept it or not, but he’s entirely convinced that he will and already has plans of visiting.

LOVE -

39. What was their first kiss like, if they’ve had one?

When he was fifteen, Avriel had his first kiss with a village girl under a cottonwood tree. He sneezed in her face afterward. They continued to date for months. The entire relationship was awkward and uncomfortable.

40. Are they in a relationship/have a love interest?

Avriel is single, and mingling. Currently, he’s getting to know Thea’s brother, Ewin.

41. Have they ever been in love?

Avi has never been in love, but he certainly thought he was. And, truly, he loved Ione - he still does. He knows the deepest parts of her and accepts every part. Avi didn’t know that platonic love could be that raw and consuming because no one had ever told him it could. He was told fanciful stories of true loves and soulmates and meant-to-bes, but he was never told stories of finding home in someone who you were not in love with, but who meant just as much to you. So while he’s never been in love in the way most people mean it when they ask, he’s never really missed the feeling.

42. Have they ever had their heart broken?

Yes, but not by somebody else. Avriel broke his own heart. He’s heartbroken over leaving Ione, over taking her for granted. He regrets always wanting something more and feeling loss because the romance wasn’t there, never fully appreciating that she was his comfort and his home. He left her to better the world - for the greater good - but he knows he broke her heart and that breaks his. He wishes he could turn back time and stop himself from trying so hard to force their love to be something from a fairytale. He wishes he’d never tried to convince her that he was someone she could settle down and have a family with. 

SPIRITUALITY -

43. Do they follow a god, if so who?

Avi follows Melora, the goddess of the wilderness and the sea. His mother is a ranger, and Melora always keeps her safe. Because of the wilderness of his powers and the storms that fester around him, he prays for her to keep him safe, too. Though she’s the only god he follows, he believes all gods have validity and is interested to learn more about others’ religions.

44. What do they think happens to them after death?

He believes he will return to nature, become dirt in the ground and renew everything that has renewed him. He doesn’t really wish for consciousness after death, and is comfortable with the finality of it if he’s achieved everything he set out to achieve and can return to nature after it’s all said and done.

45. What is their spirit animal? 

A lion.

[novarasalas]

Not to put any pressure on you but I'm really interested on your thoughts about how Krolia and Honerva compare as mothers to their sons.

Oooo…that’s agood one. I was just thinking about this, as I’m getting later intoreviewing season 7.

Even then, I have toadmit that my first reaction to your ask was “Uh…haha…theydon’t?”

Then I managed tohave an actual thought, and I rewatched a few episodes, learning abit along the way.

I’ll preface thiswhole thing by admitting that my idea of Honerva lines up with thefan theory that she and Zarkon had been trying to start a family, butfor whatever reason, it wasn’t working out for them. Her coldnesstowards Alfor when he mentions Allura could possible support thattheory. But it’s when they meet again later, when she screams that“quintessence is life” before collapsing that sealed it for me.Since we were told in an (interview? con panel?) that she was pregnant when they entered the rift,it really seems to me that she was about to lose the pregnancy, andmay have lost others before then.

Unless they actuallyconfirmed that at some point. I have a hard time keeping up with allthe new interviews.

…Ok, onward.

These two ascharacters don’t seem to truly have much in common, do they? Theyonly thing I could really think of is that they met their respectivelovers because of Voltron, and that they both lost contact with theirsons until said sons had grown into men.

So let’s start atthe beginning.

Before having Keith,Krolia was shown as being willing to sacrifice herself to keep theBlue Lion out of the Empire’s hands. Even though she said that hership being destroyed was the best thing that ever happened to her,she still made that her mission. And when the Empire came back, sheknew that she had to leave to fight them, risking her own life,knowing that she’d probably never see her lover and son again.

Specifically, shesaid: “I must go[…]I’m sorry. But this is the best way for meto keep you both safe.”

Honerva was ascientist pushing the boundaries of knowledge and scientificadvancement, eventually to her own detriment. Nothing wasgoing to stop her from opening that rift, no matter what her reasonswere for studying it. At first it was all about the science, andthen, if my idea about her is right, it became about the possibilitythat the quintessence would help her carry a child to term. Thequintessence corrupted her, drove her mad, and the encouragement fromZarkon only made it worse. And in the end, even he didn’t careabout his own people’s welfare. Even if it doomed the planet andeveryone on it, he was going to save them.

As she’s laying onwhat was possibly her deathbed, Honerva is babbling almostincoherently: “We must have it […] Quintessence […] into therift. It’s the only way.”

In the end, theyboth did what they felt they needed to for their sons.

Krolia was willingto sacrifice herself to keep her son safe.

Honerva was willingto sacrifice everyone else so that her son could live.

Later on, both womenreunite with their sons, and the way these meetings go down couldn’tbe much more different.

I doubt that Kroliawas thrilled to find that Keith had made his way into the middle ofthe space war. And I would think she was even less thrilled to findthat he was a member of the Blade, and now pretty much in a constantstate of danger. She could have, in the moment of realization, lether emotions get the better of her. She could have panicked, gottenangry, come to weeping. But she didn’t. She only gave Keith a sternlook.

“You’re late.”

There were biggerthings to worry about. They needed to first make it out alive, thenthey could deal with it all. She doesn’t launch into an expositionon the subject, but instead lets him ask the questions. This allowshim to set the pace of his own learning. After all, being reunitedwith your mother after 20 years is a very big deal. Just the act ofit can be overwhelming, so avoiding an information overload is amust.

In the end, they’reable to understand each other (with the aid ofdense-star-time-magic), and by the time they leave the space whale,they stand as equals. They’re still mother and son, and they loveeach other as such, but they are both capable adults that can rely oneach other. Their relationship is built on trust and understanding,which is a beautiful thing considering Keith’s own hang ups earlyon.

And I mean it about them being equals. As she apologizes about having to leave him in “The Ruins”, it’s him that puts her at ease about it. It’s a great and mature relationship they have.

Honerva andLotor on the other hand….oh boy. It wasn’t so much of a reunion, was it? It wasmore of a forced realization. For Honerva, she finally rememberedthat she had actually had the child she’d so desperately wanted.And for Lotor, he was forced with confronting the fact that the witchwho had helped his father torment him for 10,000 years was actuallythe woman he’d been damn near worshiping this entire time.

She has him broughtto her without his consent and stands over him, looking down on himas she claims him as her own. She offers the barest hint of anapology for her previous actions, but still, it doesn’t seem tooccur to her that the way she’s treated him in the past could evercloud his feelings for her. After all, she’s Honerva, the once he’sbeen striving after. He should be oh so happy to have found her.

Instead, he callsher an abomination.

She orders him to betaken away.

Even though he hasjust thoroughly rejected her, Honerva isn’t about to let him gonow.

She’s doing thisto protect him, you see? She knows how people have always felt abouthim. She knows the way his own father treated him. And now she knowthat his only real and true allies have just turned their back onhim.

It seems at thispoint that to her, nothing matters except Lotor. I couldeasily imagine her standing in front of her Kuron-a-vision™portal,muttering “my son, Lotor, mine” over and over for hours on end.

I’m not even surethat Zarkon getting dusted mattered to her. Though, to be fair, wedidn’t see her reaction. It may have, for whatever reason, made hereven more obsessed with Lotor, even thought he’s the one who killedhim.

In any case, insteadof trust and understanding for Honerva and Lotor, there’s onlyjealousy and obsession.

—

Ok. I sure did typea lot of words up there. To sum up, I’ll put it in abstract terms, because that always helps!

Krolia as a motheris a gentle hand that helps you back onto your feet so that you canstand beside her. She’s a soft nudge in the right direction. She’sthe firm, yet reassuring, word: Go. Do what you must. Wherever lifetakes you, I’m here for you, and I support you.

Honerva as a motheris a sharp, clawed hand on the back of your neck, making you bleed.She’s a harsh shove into the dirt below you. She’s a cruel word:I’ve sacrificed everything for you, and this is how you repay me?You’re nothing without me.

So after all this, Ifeel like they don’t really compare; they contrast, almostperfectly.

And I have a reallybad feeling that these two are on a collision course.

Honerva watchedKeith introduce Krolia as his mother. She watched as they snitched onLotor, causing  the team to turn on him. I have a bad, bad feelingthat given her own issues, Honerva is going to be out to hurt them.They hurt her son, and he’s all she ever wanted.

…I hope I’mwrong. I’m usually wrong. Please come through for me, guys…letKeith be happy, at least. Don’t make him lose her again.

[addisvns-blog]

                                  The Crowes & The Burnetts

Gregory Crowe || 55 || Father || Sheriff of Hartwell Police Department  || Aidan Gillen

Gregory Crowe grew up in a tough love home, and that was how he raised his sons too. Hugs and kisses were for the daughters, which he had none, so he remained emotionally cold toward his sons. Greg started smoking at sixteen and started drinking at seventeen. He was a “manly man:” never cried, hardly loved, and was a football enthusiast. Even soccer was too feminine a sport. 

Joanie Crowe || 53 || Mother || School Teacher || Lauren Graham

Joanie grew up with a father that hit her mother and wound up with a husband that hit her. It’s what she knew and what she believed was love. When she met Greg at seventeen, she whole-heartedly believed she could fix him. Something in her still believes she can. Joanie has a kind heart but a naive soul. Despite the violence that occurs in her household, she still genuinely loves him, and makes sure he arrives home every night with dinner on the table and his favorite show on TV. 

Michael “Mickey” Burnett || 50 || Uncle || Professor at Belmont University || Pater Krause

Mickey grew up in Nashville, but his grandparents lived a short 30 minute ride away in Beaumont. Growing up, his favorite weekends were the ones spent in Beaumont with his Grandfather. He always swore he’d end up living there, and so he did. Mickey is a computer science professor at Belmont University, which also happens to be his alma mater. He has a good heart and strives to ensure his family is happy and healthy. 

Layla Burnett || 45 || Aunt || Art History teacher at Beaumont High School || Anna Friel 

Layla grew up in a household surrounded by physical and verbal abuse. While her sister, Joanie, wallowed in that, Layla was determined not to let it destroy her life or her outlook on love. Joanie became the problem child: she could only love men who hurt her. And though Layla tried to help, Joanie had a fixation on being the “fixer-upper.” Layla moved out on her own by seventeen, finding solace in working at a diner in the small town of Beaumont. Eventually she saved up enough to send herself to college where she met her future husband, Mickey, and moved back to Beaumont to start a family. 

Cash Crowe || 27 || Brother||  Assistant Football Coach at University of Georgia || Jesse Eisenberg 

Cash was a star athlete all throughout high school. Quarterback of the Varsity team since freshman year, it was no surprise he was scouted and asked to play at Georgia Tech by the time he was a junior. Cash’s dreams of going professional were crushed in college when he was not drafted into the NFL. Wanting to remain part of the game, Cash got a job working for the team at University of Georgia, where he eventually made his way up to Assistant Coach where he was renown for screaming at the players on the sidelines and occasionally throwing a chair when a bad call is made. 

Theodore “Teddy” Burnett || 23 || Cousin || Film Maker || Charlie Heaton

Teddy grew up in Beaumont with a thirst for the arts and parents who encouraged him to follow his dreams. He got his first camera when he was seven and was known around Beaumont for capturing shots of every day life. At eleven, he started his own photography blog, which was only really followed by locals in Beaumont, but they encouraged him to pursue his passion nonetheless. He moved to California to go to USC Film school, but has since moved back in hopes to shoot a film set right in his hometown, his favorite place in the world, Beaumont. 

Addison Crowe || 25 || Bartender at the Catfish in Beaumont || Harry Styles 

Addison moved away from his family at sixteen, as soon as he realized how toxic his household was. The home he grew up in still had many detrimental effects on him, though. While he is nowhere near as emotionally distant as his father, it has made him scared of love at times. And he certainly seems to have the addictive gene from his father. 

Family Headcanons

The Crowes were neither rich nor poor. They lived in a three bedroom, two bathroom, one story home and could enjoy to eat out every once in a while, too

As kids, Addison and Cash were really close. They grew apart when their rough housing turned into Cash essentially beating up Addison 

Addison was a mama’s boy. When he made it big in the music industry, his number one priority was to get his mother out of that house, but she refused 

He does not talk to his immediate family anymore, but rather considers his aunt, uncle, and cousin to be his immediate family 

Living with the Burnett’s drastically changed Addison’s life. He had never before lived in a supportive and loving home 

Teddy and Addison aren’t very close because they didn’t get to see each other growing up much, but they have recently been getting to know each other better 

[smokeybrand]

American Horror Story

My brother has a problem with Universal Base Income. He has a difficult time reconciling personal responsibility and objective empathy. Dude thinks that if you give people enough money to live comfortably, they will just be content with that and not strive to for better. Using government funds to make sure people have the ability to live and eat without fear of dying, will effectively kill all American innovation, in his mind. I do not understand that logic at all. I do not get how someone can see a base playing field where no one has to worry about starving, eviction, or getting their utilities cut off, will somehow ruin the entrepreneurial spirit or whatever. I her him say these things and i try to understand his point of view but it doesn't make any sense. It doesn't make any sense because the understanding he has about the mentality of his fellow man is skewed.

These programs, free college, free daycare, UBI, social medicine, combined with a livable minimum wage, make for some of the happiest, most industrious peoples in the world. The frugal four in Europe, Austria, Denmark, Netherlands, and Sweden, consistently poll as the happiest places to live, every year, and it's because of these programs. Not all of them have every one, but most run a combination of them all. They have strong unions that force employers to stay honest and tax those with more at higher rates because they can contribute at that level without feeling the hit. If i get a ticket in Sweden, I'd pay three hundred dollars. It's a hit that hurts but it ain't going to cripple me. If a millionaire gets that same ticket, then he is charged a proportional about for them to feel it but not hinder to the point they can't make a bill. This system is not only fair, but it's meritocratic - another sticking point my brother harps on. But that's my disconnect; These programs encourage meritocracy, not hider it.

Way back when 'Murrica was great, we had a lot of these same systems in place. I don't think the US has ever had UBI but we used to have the strongest unions in the world, subsidized state college, and affordable health care. Back when the government was the government and did things like support the people, we still innovated. e still were the best. We went to the f*cking moon, man! That's the most innovative sh*t in the history of man. Knowing that your quality of life is secured, regardless of failure or not, gives cats the courage to try more. Knowing the fact that your kids can eat next week and you don't have to worry about eviction goes a long way to a cat finishing school or writing the net great phone app.  Being secure and happy increases productivity. It engenders loyalty. Cats work harder, faster, and better when these programs are in place. Denmark has a four day work week and maintains a fifty thousand dollar a year salary average. There are thirteen countries based there that still make the Fortune 2000 paying those salaries to their employees. They also have some of the most comprehensive social programs in the world. There is a national support system which includes free health care and education for everyone, job training, subsidized child care, a generous pension system and fuel subsidies as well as rent allowances for the elderly. And business is still thriving in Denmark which means people are still going to to work. They're going less but the same amount of work is being completed. I'm sure there are bad actors working the system for gain, there always are, but this entire situation would have collapsed in on itself if the majority of people were as terrible as my brother believes. So why is Denmark thriving? Why is Sweden thriving? Why are all of these countries with an advanced social safety net, thriving?

This is where personal responsibility comes into play for my brother. See, he works like a dog and get nowhere in his life. Dude busts his ass at work but he's been in the same position his entire adult life. There has been no progress whatsoever. He's trying so hard to lift himself up by his bootstraps while overtly hating those that ave s leg up through generational wealth or the benefit of contacts. What he doesn't understand is, with these social programs, with UBI, he wouldn't have to struggle like this. He'd be able to afford his own place. He'd have a car that could be legal. He can do everything that asshole who was born with a silver spoon can do with these programs in place, but my brother refuses the very notion because someone else might not go back to work. Kid is one of these dudes who's mad no one wants to go back to work after the Wuha because they make too much n unemployment but refuses to understand that is more a strike on the fact cats didn't make a livable wage while working. It took a while for me to see his point because there are thousands of examples of that not happening around the world. New Zealnd is a perfect example. When this sh*t hit, the Kiwi's gave each of their citizens thousands of dollars and they nipped this sh*t in the bud. They all then went back to work, happily and, more to the point, safely. They're going back to a twenty-two dollar an hour living wage, a stark contrast to the seven dollars and twenty-five cent federal incentive we have here in the States. Why would anyone want to go back to that? Who wants to go back to work making eleven hundred dollars a month plus tax deductions, when you were just making twice that for not working? How do you lift yourself up by your bootstraps when you can't afford the boots?

That's what these social programs do for everyone. They unilateral give every citizen a pair of boots to strap up. Once you got the shoes and tie them down, you can run that race without worry. If you're constantly concerned with who got their boots fraudulently, you're never going to see the bigger picture that everyone has a pair for themselves, that everyone has the same opportunity to run that rack without falling on their face or blowing out their leg. If someone does happen to stumble and fall, cats can sop to help them up without worry of getting stuck, themselves, or if they happened to step on broken glass, their feet are protected and they can keep running forward with everyone, pushing our country toward the future. I don't understand this culture of individualism and malevolence toward group success when there is very real evidence those mentalities are a detriment to progress and growth. I don't see how there is a conflict between the notion of hard work and empathy for those who can't. Just because your taxes are paying for a few Welfare Moms doesn't mean we shouldn't throw some loot at free healthcare. Just because you see some asshole abusing the UBI, doesn't mean that sh*t can't help a nineteen-year-old cover rent and food while he works through college.

There are always going to be bad actors. There are always going to be lazy people. Always. But the fact that there are hundreds of countries around the world who have these programs, manipulators included, and are still thriving, should be more than enough to seriously consider a change. They pay their employees a livable wage and are among the happiest nations in the world. These countries, hell, Colorado with all they've done with their weed money, should immediately remove any conflict or apprehension about the positives of empathetic legislature. Never mind the eye test or first hand accounts from people who have traveled abroad or those who came here and were horrified at how we live, there is legitimate data that backs up everything I just said in this rant. If you think a whole ass country would implement such sprawling changes to their economies without an ardent understanding of risk/cost, you're just being f*cking silly. To think an entire nation would uproot everything they built upon, for centuries, on a whim, without substantiating numbers to prove such drastic change would absolutely lead to prosperity for all, is the dumbest sh*t ever. And that's my point. You have to be a special kind of special to see the benefits of these social programs in real time, all over the world, in varying combinations, to varying degrees of success, and be like “Nah, f*ck that.”

There is no conflict at that point. How can there be? The data is clear as day. At that point, it's just plain selfishness. That's it. That's why the US is the way it is. Selfishness, egotism, and anti-intellectualism are championed like the goddamn second amendment here. It's infuriating. We are supposed to be the best country in the world, the delusion we are all forced to learn when we are kids, indoctrinated on the god fearing nationalism modern America pushed with every Michael Bay film or Trump rally, but we won't even take care of our own because it might cost us a little bit more. Because we might have to pass on one Frapp a week or three games a year. The only reason why anyone, including my brother, would be against this sh*t, is strictly because we, as Americans, are the most arrogant, egotistical, ignorant, boors in the entire f*cking world and we completely bought into that narcissistic delusion they sold to us. But we know it is. We’ve all seen it firsthand. Wuha has exposed every dirty little truth about this country no one in this government wants you to know. The bullsh*t has been laid bare and, even then, after this, the stupidest apocalypse, ever, there are people who will stand in front of these programs, this progress, and scream how unfair they are. How Socialism is Communism and it’s bad. How Russia ain’t America even though the tax-docging POTUS wants so very badly to be Putin. There are people who see the splendor out in the world and knowingly choose this squalor. How?

The American Dream is a f*cking nightmare and there are still people who keep willfully hitting snooze and I do not understand why.

[samcarter34]

Elijah and Marcel, Victims of Narrative

This is a thing that I wrote a while back that I’m moving here. I’m putting it under a cut because it’s kinda long.

Part 1: Where the fuck is Elijah and who is this fuckboy?

Sometimes it's genuinely hard for me to remember that the Mikaelsons on TO aren't the Originals on TVD. Their characterizations are so completely different. 

Ready? Because this is going to blow your mind...Elijah isn't a Niklaus sycophant. He's not obsessed with Niklaus' redemption, hell for most of his life, the idea of it was laughable.

Doesn't that just fly in the face of everything TO is trying to put forward as narrative?

Now, let's begin with the false notion that Niklaus is the most important person in Elijah's life, to the detriment of his other siblings.

To begin with; we look to season 2, when Elijah first appeared. The mysterious Original, with an even more mysterious purpose. Originally, it was presumed that he was working for this boogeyman figure 'Klaus', however, we later find out that not only is he not, he wants to murder the other Original. Why? Because Niklaus killed his siblings and dumped their bodies into the ocean. That to Elijah was unforgivable, and he was going to do it. Bonnie had reduced to NIklaus to something killable, and Elijah had his fist in his treacherous little brother's chest. Only the realization that Niklaus had lied and his siblings were safe saved Niklaus from dying that night.

Then we jump to season 3, where Elijah has been freed by Damon under the assumption that Elijah will turn on Niklaus for daggering him. An assumption that of course, proves correct. But not before we see two very important scenes. The first is when Niklaus proclaims Mikael's death, and Elijah's immediate reaction is to ask why their siblings remain daggered. This right here explains everything we needed to know about the daggering. Elijah hated it, but there was the assumption that it would end at some point, with Mikael's death, which was indeed Niklaus' original intent. Second is when Niklaus reinsterts the dagger into Kol. Elijah is pissed. He hates the fact that Kol's being daggered and he can't do anything to stop it. Until he can, and the moment Elijah has the ability to free his siblings, he does so.

All of them. Rebekah. Kol. Finn. Elijah makes no excuses for keeping one of them locked up, no reasoning not to. After all this time he can finally free his family and he does not hesitate. Furthermore, he makes it very clear he knows exactly who to blame. "I'm learning not to trust your vulgar promises Niklaus," Is what he says. No reference to Mikael or Esther, nor sob story. It's just 'NIklaus you did this, I'm ending it, prepare to hurt.'

And then he decides to leave Niklaus behind. Him, Rebekah, Kol, Finn, they were all going to leave. They were going to find the coffin containing the mysterious weapon and use it as leverage against their tyrannical brother if he dared to cross them. Elijah had no qualms about this, he didn't even so much as speak up when Rebekah announced her intent to murder Elena and leave Niklaus without even his hybrids to fall back on. It was only the return of their mother that stayed their hand. She came back, and they all thought that perhaps they could have a chance, truly wipe the slate clean.

Except Elijah didn't believe it. His exact words were that he found it difficult to believe Esther could forgive Niklaus "After all he's done to destory this family." No reference to Mikael, no sob story about Niklaus losing his way. Again, Niklaus did this, Elijah acknowledges it, and is surprised that the logical consequences did not follow.

Until they did. Esther didn't return to give a new beginning to them, but to bring about their end. Their own mother condemned them as monsters, monsters that had to die. And then, at the end of the episode, Elijah said the words that should have formed the bedrock of TO "Mother made us vampires, but she didn't make us monsters. We did that to ourselves."

That applies to all of them. They made themselves what they are, not Mikael, not Esther. Them.

Then we saw Elijah at the end of season 3, where he made a deal: Hand over the coffin containing Niklaus' dessicated body, and the Originals will scatter to the corners of the Earth. Alaric will follow after them, but he'll never catch them. Elena can grow old and die a natural death, and Niklaus will not be released until generations later, when the Gilbert named is lost to time. Elijah intended to keep Niklaus dessicated for at least a century, or likely even longer.

Hell, even in season 4, the season where the actual Originals started getting destroyed in favour of their TO counterparts, Elijah still showed up long enough to deny the cure to Niklaus.

Why? Because Niklaus is not and has never been Elijah's priority. Elijah's top priority has always been and will always be the family as a whole. When Niklaus screwed up and got himself trapped or hexed or whatever, Elijah had no problem with leaving up laying the bed he made, not if it meant the safety of the family as a whole. That's why he was able to convince himself not to rip Niklaus apart centuries ago when his siblings got daggered, because he was convinced that it was for the safety of the family as a whole.

There was none of this 'redemption' bullshit, or obsession with Niklaus. He took on the role of protector to his siblings, and that's what he dedicated himself to. That was his nobility. Elijah is a vampire, a thousand year old vampire. The worldview he has is completely alien to us, what consitutes good and evil to him doesn’t match up to the human perspective. The only time that was ever really questioned was when Esther called him out on it.

That is Elijah, and that's why fuckboy is a gigantic insult to the character, because he is everything Elijah wasn't. Elijah was content to leave one in a bad way to save all, fuckboy will leave all to suffer in favour of this isane and inane 'redemption' idea. Elijah was cold, lethal and efficient. Fuckboy is a dumbass. Elijah was attracted to sentiments of nobility that he himself strived to, fuckboy has only physical attraction to someone who has none of those qualities.

So, quite simply. Elijah isn't on TO, Elijah's never been on TO, it's always been fuckboy. A horrible misinterpretting of what was a great character.

Part 2: Marcel the victim

Someone once asked a question, something to the effect of 'can't Marcel ever win.' And the answer is, quite simply; no.

He can't, he never will. Marcel is, in the eyes of the narrative, completely worthless.

Think about it, the entire premise of this show is that somehow miracle baby will redeem Niklaus. That he will change because of his child. This-which flies in the face of the fact that horrible people do not suddenly become better because a baby gets thrown into the mix-is the entire point of the show. One that it has never been able to go beyond. However, there was one great flaw in that plan; they'd already created a child for Niklaus. The nameless slave that eventually became Marcel Gerard. How then could they possible say that Hope could change Niklaus for the better when he already had a child and it did nothing for him? The answer they chose? Undermine and undervalue Marcel. We've seen it since the beginning. He was never treated like someone raised by the Mikaelsons for over a hundred years. Hell, even his relationship with Rebekah just screams of separation. They develop romantic feelings because there are no familial ones.

Because Marcel wasn't good enough, he didn't change Niklaus, and because of that, the narrative will forever punish him for it. We've known it for seasons, but finally, they just plain spelled it out.

Marcel: Come to gloat?

[Fuckboy]: Five years ago I was forced to make a decision. Take your life, or lose everything.

Marcel: Yeah, I know. I was there.

[Fuckboy]: Niklaus was faced with a similar decision today, and here you are.

Marcel: And here I am. Excuse me if I don’t express my gratitude.

[Fuckboy]: He’s changing.

Marcel: Oh really? He put me in the same place that I kept him. That’s revenge. So, same old Klaus.

[Fuckboy]: Well, I would say that he would describe this as strategy. But you and I, we both know he’s always regarded you as something of a son. So did I once upon a time. In fact, I used to believe that you were the key to my brother’s redemption.

Marcel: Redemption? He’s never gonna change, not even for his own daughter.

[Fuckboy]: Oh, he already has. She has changed him. You Marcellus, you are not needed, welcomed, or wanted. You have only been spared purely because you are my brother’s greatest weakness. And I cannot show mercy towards anyone who would demonstrate threat towards this family. And if indeed you should prevent the redemption, of the cruel, the wicked, the vindictive Niklaus Mikaelson, I promise you, I will deliver another kind of nightmare.

Look at that statement, that final, horrible, disgusting paragraph. Hope changed him, he's becoming 'better' for her, and Marcel's not wanted because he failed to change Niklaus. That might as well have been Narducci standing there, finally giving text to the subtext that's been there from the beginning. Marcel is a failure as a child because Niklaus remained an awful person. Because in TO, it the duty of the children to 'redeem' their parents. Esther said it in season 2, and now hear we are again.

They needed to make Hope the grand deus ex machina Mary Sue, and to that end, they decided that Marcel didn't count. He wasn't a real child, so he didn't succeed. Because he didn't succeed, he's worthless.

Truly a wonderful message for anyone involved in adoption, parent or child, hmm? And there's also the fact that the black child's treated like an outsider despite all his successes while the white child is treated like a godamned Messiah just for existing.

You know what? I want Niklaus to become horrible. To be even worse than he was. He has a child now, one who will question his authority. Let him murder, pillage and burn. Let fuckboy bear witness to the reality that Elijah already knows: They are each their architects of their own monstrosity, and no child will ever change that. Let fuckboy's entire ambition burn to the fucking ground.

And so, I end off this with FUCK EVERYONE INVOLVED IN WRITING THIS COMPLETE AND UTTER BULLSHIT! SERIOUSLY HOW THE HELL DID NO ONE ANYWHERE REALIZE WHAT THE HELL THEY WERE WRITING!!!!!!

[freelanews-blog]

Life Lessons from Mudipapa: A True Life Guide for the Young and Unmarried

By Jeremiah Agada It was German-born theoretical physicist, Albert Einstein, one of the two pillars of modern physics, who once said wisdom is not a product of schooling, but of the lifelong attempt to acquire it. In retrospect, wisdom and understanding can only become the possession of individuals by travelling the old road of observation, attention, perseverance and industry. This wisdom and understanding can be had from experience or learnt from other people’s experience. A wise man once noted that it is always better to learn from the experience of others in order to create a better one or avoid unpleasant occurrences entirely. From young people in adolescence at the threshold of adulthood to those at the level of readiness to start a family of their own, there is no better place to learn valuable lessons and ‘experiences’ than at the feet of Chief (Sir) Julius Ferdinand Mudiaga Orien, Ph.D., aka Mudipapa, a man in his twilight years, who can rightly boast of having seen it all, done it all, and is now in the best position to tell it all. Of course, Mudipapa is a 65-year-old fictional character in Francis Ewherido’s first major literary work, ‘Life Lessons from Mudipapa’. The prolific writer with over 500 published works on marriage, family, youth, gender issues, politics, culture, insurance and business, tells Mudipapa’s interesting story in 256 pages of words spread across 31 chapters. Although with a focus on the family life, marriage, parenting, career, business, retirement among others, a look at the book shows that it is a rich guide for all young people who have to grapple with the exigencies of living as they journey through life. It is also a minefield for singles who have intention of starting their own families someday and for young married couples just starting their family life as well. For the purpose of clarification and for this review, ‘single’ here means someone that is unmarried. This class of people is composed of young adults in their adolescents; those in various forms of relationships with the opposite gender (even those cohabiting, engaged) and even single parents. The importance of a book like this in the life of these class of people is captured by Dwight L. Moody who once said, “Preparation for old age should begin no later than one's teens. He had further stressed that a life which is empty of purpose until 65 will not suddenly become filled on retirement. Life Lessons from Mudipapa, therefore, is a compendium of reference on dating, making difficult choices, courtship, marriage, parenting - all life stages the main character and chief protagonist, Mudipapa, passed through. Life Lessons from Mudipapa is a mixture of fact and fiction, a genre commonly known as faction. It is a faction because some realities in the life of Mudiapapa intersects with that of the author, Mr. Francis, as well as other characters, places, experiences and aspirations in the book. Interestingly, young people get to learn a lot from the life of Mudipapa as a young man in relationships before his marriage and from the lives of three out of his five children: Oghenetejiri Barbara Orien, Emisiri Michael Orien, Gabriel Oghenemado Orien and Edirinverere Orien. Not much lessons can be gleamed from the life of Mudipapa’s last son, Edirin. Same goes for his last child, Omoghene Orien, whose conception was in a “fortuitous circumstances” which the author termed “a moment of madness.” She was too young, still in secondary school to have done much. Written in free flowing, easy to read and understand diction, the language is simple and uncluttered. The omniscient narrative asides from giving a broad view into each character’s life, guides the reader on a journey of discovery of new terms, concepts, knowledge, even languages, cultures and places. Terms like SWOT, SMART, TEAM; concepts like Electra Complex, Knowledge like naturally determinining a baby’s sex, languages like French, cultures like that of the Urhobos, Itsekiris and the Isokos and interesting places like the Champs Elysees in Paris France, Florida in the US among others. Interestingly and worthy of mention is the fact that the end of each chapter, and on few occasions, in the middle of the story, the author chips in a nugget, two or more on vital life lessons the reader can have as a takeaway from the chapter in focus. The story of Mudipapa begins from the first chapter, as a flashback from the present in his expansive sitting room, down to his early days as a young man in chapter two, floundering in relationships, a common phenomenon with people at that stage in life, on his way to marital El Dorado. Here, the many challenges that young people in relationships face were explored and dealt with accordingly. From having issues around trust, ego, obsession, disappointment, disagreements, etc., the young Mudipapa after searching for long, discovered his missing “rib” and got married to her in a marriage that has been quite fruitful. Interestingly, from the travails of Mudipapa in his quest for his soul mate, the author makes a strong case for the place of God in relationships and the choice of a life partner. As he holds as a belief, which is, God is a giver of good spouses. Fast forward to chapter thirteen, the author espouses the importance of marrying early and the advantages of that to young people. As Mudipapa talks to his eldest children on early marriage, he reasoned that marrying early or late has its advantages but marrying early is more preferable. He rationalized that marrying early helps couples start and finish giving to birth to and nurturing their children early enough to settle down to a life of retirement among other advantages. Oghenetejiri’s relationship with Swanky highlights chapter 14 of the book. Tejiri, as she is known for short, had a rather ‘reclusive’ approach to social life growing up as she was focused more on her academic pursuit of excellence to the detriment of her social life. She therefore lacked the emotional intelligence and experience in the department of dating, hence, fell into the dubious Swanky’s trap that almost got her sensitive images exposed online and her family’s name tarnished. The wise counsel from father to daughter during a trip to France is a wholesome nugget to many young people who at different points in time may have found themselves in her shoes. Her subsequent recovery and discovery is a lesson to remember. From Mudipapa’s interaction with Tejiri and her husband-to-be, Tosan, the reader gets an in-depth exposition from relationship issues like jealousy, how it is different from envy and the fact that jealousy in its moderate form is actually a good thing. He noted, “Jealousy started running into trouble when it started mixing up with bad boys and girls like anger, ego, envy, murderous rage, revenge, sin and others.” Chapters 22 and 23 of the book centre on individual differences in relationships which is a major theme from the adulthood and relationships of Mudipapa’s first son, Emisiri, especially with his heartthrob, Uzoezi. Here, the importance of finding a common ground in relationship, forgiveness, reaching a compromise, settling problems and accommodating our partners and potential spouse was emphasized. The clear difference between interference and intervention was outlined and the Paretto Principle in relationships, explained. Emisiri, a Catholic, could not find a common ground with Uzoezi, a Pentecostal from an Anglican home until Mudipapa helped both reach a compromise before they wedded. Chapter 23 also focuses on Mado, Mudipapa’ second son and a single father who became a parent before finishing his secondary school education. The blight of having one of his child become a father outside wedlock as portrayed by the author is indicative of the fact that there is no utopian family, rather, all strive for perfection. Mado’s life after putting Cynthia in the family way shows that anyone can always rise to their zenith irrespective of earlier mistakes and failings. Quite unexpectedly, Mado became the person who carried on with the family investment despite prior disappointments. Mado’s relationship with Lydia beams the light on toxicity in relationships. The author posits in the book that it is always better to end such relationships and move on in life than end up on page three of national dailies as horror stories. More practically, Mudipapa’s footnotes centred on topical issues pertinent to the young and unmarried. Mudipapa’s note on courtship stands out here. He enumerated and explained core areas in courtship that young people should focus on. They include God, core values, assets and liabilities and friendships, among others. The issue of sex during courtship, length of courtship, family/family involvement, disclosure of fundamental conditions, health status, counselling, even co-habitation, etc., were also treated by the author. Written as a novel with plenty elements of an autobiography, this guide to marital Eldorado has achieved the purpose of providing information, unquantifiable education, hilarious entertainment and a pure realistic elucidation to the institution of marriage to the young and the unmarried. Having read this book, I will advise parents to purchase it for children in secondary school. The diction as earlier stated is simple enough. Valuable lessons from the lives of Mudipapa’s children, especially Mado, characters like Cynthia, and others will prove very useful to them. The content of the book is decent enough for their age. At a younger age bracket than theirs, I have read things that would have given my parents instant heart attack if they had any idea. For the unmarried, a group I belong to, Life Lessons from Mudipapa is a must have. The stories there will challenge you, the conflicts will resonate with you and the resolutions of all the conflicts will give you a clear guide on your journey to starting your family. Read the full article