#consolidation phase

[dencyemily]

Navigating Resistance: Chainlink's Price Trajectory Indicates Approaching Critical Levels

Chainlink (LINK) is capturing attention in the virtual assets space as market indicators and a bullish trend suggest a potential breakout, fueled by increasing investor confidence. Analyst Michaël van de Poppe highlights a notable shift in LINK's behavior, indicating a bullish momentum with higher lows and a trajectory towards critical resistance levels. This trend signals the possibility of a breakout, reviving the enthusiasm reminiscent of the DeFi summer.

The current market status of Chainlink reveals a substantial uptrend, with a 5.59% increase in the last 24 hours, reaching $15.19, aligning with van de Poppe's analysis. Strong trading activities underpin these price movements, supported by volume bar charts. Technical analysis indicates a consolidation phase, signifying market indecision, but the anticipation of a strong breakout upwards signifies growing confidence among traders.

Santiment's report of a mini breakout in Chainlink, reaching $15.82 for the first time in two weeks, adds further confirmation to the positive sentiment. The presence of resistance and accumulation zones on the price chart provides additional layers to the bullish narrative, with the red-shaded resistance zone and green-shaded accumulation zone serving as key areas to monitor for potential selling pressure and buyer engagement, respectively.

Chainlink's market health is reinforced by decreased supply on exchanges, dipping below 15% for the first time in approximately four years. This scarcity can lead to a price increase. Additionally, the growing number of wallets holding LINK, nearing its all-time high, indicates increasing interest and confidence in LINK's future.

The positive signs in LINK's market conditions, with an upward trend, growing holder interest, and indications of a potential breakout, are drawing attention from investors and market observers. The optimistic scenario surrounding LINK's performance could potentially signify a broader favorable trend in the cryptocurrency market.

[fresherfriut]

[likesmoney]

The 12/30/23 Weekend Report Preview

Dollar The dollar broke bearishly out of consolidation the previous Friday to extend the daily cycle decline.   Breaking bearishly out of consolidation resulted in only a 3 day bloodbath phase with the dollar forming a bullish reversal on Thursday. The dollar then formed a swing low on Friday to signal a new daily cycle. We will need to see a close above the 10 day MA to label Thursday as the…

[radnewworld]

Nundams fuck severely.

[mollysunder]

The synopsis of Chosen of the Wolf has me really thinking about how Noxian and Zaunite children don't have childhoods, they're almost automatically put to work. Obviously Mel is afforded far greater material comfort and luxury than someone like Jinx ever had, but that doesn't cancel out that long before we could ever consider Mel an adult she's been using her skills to advance her mother's plans.

The one time we see Mel as a child, she's with Ambessa in Ionia, a war zone, acting like she's in a training phase for a role as Ambessa's advisor, because that's what she's doing, advising her mother on the aftermath of Noxus' campaign of conquest. Now in the prequel novel, we see that Mel has been put to task to shore up support for Ambessa in the family's current war of succession to be the head of the Medarda Clan.

Mel seems to have only been in her twenties when we meet her in Arcane, and her exile has lasted for well over a decade, so she couldn't have been more than a teenager during the succession crisis. And here Mel is employed as a diplomat for her mother's war.

It's really the same position Silco had Jinx in but for different reasons, their thing was consolidating power through violence and politics to make Zaun independent, while Ambessa and Mel's dynamic (warmonger mother and intrigue daughter) suited the expansionist agenda of the Medarda Clan and Noxus in general. The important part is that the role of parent and child is blurred as both duos become working "partners" that only exist because they're set in systems that necessitates violence and dehumanization at early ages.

The problem of course for people like Mel and Jinx is that neither stopped being children, and so they get the worst of both worlds. Both just had to work for their parents, and the skill and quality they put into it became entangled with how they were rewarded with approval and affection from their parent. And I can not stress this enough, they're never equals to their parent.

[candacepandace]

Luna Legacy Challenge

8 generations for the 8 phases of the moon. (🎵)

I made this challenge last year in order to utilize more of the packs I bought but never use. I wanted to consolidate the rules into these easier to digest graphic cards. I was especially inspired to make my own rule cards by these two amazing simmers @simcloudlogic and @strawberrysimyt 💕

If you decide to try out this challenge please tag me @candacepandace or use #lunalegacychallenge

Cited Source:

https://www.oprahdaily.com/life/a35684513/moon-phases-manifest-meaning-astrology/

[sensualnoiree]

astro notes: the trine

The separating trine represents a period of harmony and ease, following the intensity of the square. This phase symbolizes the resolution of polarity and conflict through a state of equilibrium and balance. It is a time to consolidate gains and prepare for the cycle's peak at the opposition. If the challenges from the square were effectively addressed, this phase allows for smooth progress and reinforcement of efforts. However, vigilance is essential to avoid complacency and ensure that the process remains sound. This period is marked by a creative, unresisting flow with universal energies, providing an opportunity to gather insights and strengthen one's position in anticipation of the opposition's culmination.

Mars Trine Mercury

The Mars-Mercury trine creates a smooth and effortless connection between your mental and physical energies. This aspect enhances your ability to think and act with precision and speed, making it an excellent time for projects that require both strategic planning and decisive action. Communication is assertive yet tactful, and your ability to persuade others is heightened. This is a period where your ideas flow easily, and you're able to execute plans with minimal obstacles. The trine's harmonious nature ensures that your actions and words are in sync, leading to successful outcomes.

Mercury Trine Venus

A Mercury-Venus trine brings a natural harmony between your intellect and your sense of beauty and pleasure. This aspect enhances your communication skills, making your words more pleasant, charming, and appealing. It’s an ideal time for socializing, artistic expression, and cultivating relationships. Conversations flow smoothly, with a focus on diplomacy, cooperation, and mutual understanding. Creativity is heightened, making this a great period for writing, art, or any activity that blends intellect with aesthetics. The trine facilitates an effortless connection between mind and heart, promoting peace and harmony in interactions.

Mars Trine Jupiter

The Mars-Jupiter trine combines ambition with optimism, creating a powerful and effortless drive for success and expansion. This aspect encourages you to take bold, confident actions toward your goals, with a strong sense of enthusiasm and a positive outlook. Opportunities for growth, travel, and learning are likely to arise, and you're well-equipped to take advantage of them. The trine's easy energy ensures that your efforts are met with success, often with less resistance than usual. It's a time of significant progress, where your courage and initiative lead to fortunate outcomes.

Moon Trine Saturn

The Moon-Saturn trine fosters a stable and harmonious connection between your emotional world and your sense of responsibility and structure. This aspect promotes emotional maturity, patience, and a realistic approach to dealing with personal matters. It’s a period where you feel more grounded and secure in your emotions, allowing you to handle challenges with calm and resilience. Relationships benefit from a steady, dependable energy, and you may find it easier to commit to long-term plans. The trine supports building emotional foundations that are both strong and enduring, creating a sense of inner peace and stability.

Jupiter Trine Mercury

A Jupiter-Mercury trine enhances your mental faculties and expands your communication abilities. This aspect encourages broad, optimistic thinking, making it an excellent time for intellectual pursuits, learning, and sharing knowledge. Your ability to grasp big-picture concepts is heightened, and you’re likely to communicate with clarity and enthusiasm. This is a favorable period for travel, education, writing, and public speaking, as the trine supports the easy exchange of ideas and cultural experiences. The harmonious energy ensures that your thoughts and words are expansive, positive, and well-received.

Sun Trine Mars

The Sun-Mars trine boosts your vitality, confidence, and ability to take action with ease and purpose. This aspect strengthens your sense of identity and willpower, making it an ideal time for pursuing personal goals and expressing yourself assertively. You’re likely to feel a surge of energy and motivation, enabling you to tackle challenges with enthusiasm and without unnecessary struggle. The trine's harmonious nature ensures that your efforts are met with success, as your actions align seamlessly with your core self. This is a period of productive activity, where your inner drive leads to achievements that feel both natural and fulfilling.

follow for more astro insights like this and head on over to @quenysefields or my etsy --> sensualnoiree to grab my new astrology guidebook on reading your own natal chart :)

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll down for its corresponding message for insight on what's next for you in love.

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Pile One ♡

I strongly feel that most people in this pile would be considered as someone who is inexperienced in love, maybe you guys are bookworms, maladaptive daydreamers, and writers yourselves when it comes to visualizing your future, different settings for how the world could be, and breathing life into the people that you haven’t gotten the chance or time to get to know yet. What’s next for you in love, is practice. You’re upgrading from being Bambi by becoming the Great Prince of the Forest by taking risks before you are able to know and find what is right for you. Some of you may believe in holding yourself tightly before you meet “the one” but the message is that you are being unfair to yourself by putting your life on hold to revolve it around someone who is also learning too, but isn’t waiting like you are doing. This doesn’t mean to be reckless or to feel coerced into going along with people you don’t have a good feeling about just for the sake of finally being in a relationship. This stage is about exploration and enjoying yourself before you meet your life partner. If you resonate with being a bookworm, you could be the type to read romantic fictional stories on a platform like wattpad, and while it serves its purpose which is to make you feel good, it could create an irregular perception of love for you, like subconsciously romanticizing traits that are toxic or wouldn’t be something that you would actually like if you were to actually experience it. For some, it could be re-evaluating your attraction to individuals, like when you crush on someone, you could find that they really look good, but do you yearn for more from them? Your path in love could be redirecting you to pay attention to how a person makes you feel than what you get from them on a surface level of interaction.

Pile Two ♡

There was someone in your life that you once felt like you couldn’t live without or took something from you that seemed irretrievable, but you’re being blessed in a way that’s shutting all of those lies down. You’re getting you back, in whichever way that it applies. This could be your motivation to take care of yourself, to do things that made you feel happy and at peace before this dwindle ending happened, like going to the gym, arts & craft, writing, solo trips or going out with friends, and even something simple as such as looking good for yourself, but it’s not limited to what was mentioned. This could even look like getting closer to who your deity or deities and spiritual maintenance. The best way that I can describe this, is that this phase in love is like this big circle of energy, stuff that was taken or borrowed from you, that’s being marinated before it is returned because it isn’t just aspects from the past, it’s also the time for creation. This whole entire time, your rain of tears that were collected from this heartbreak were observed yet not ignored, but transmuted into this empire that you’re building off of the corpses of failures that you��ve experienced with not just people but life circumstances, maybe when that break up happened it just seemed that more tragedies kept following you after that and it drove you into insanity like when does this pain ever end? Although you can’t forget about it, you’re learning how to soften from these things that stung you in the past, so that you can keep moving and consolidate your wishes. For some, this is personal, and an era that you’d like to be selfish with in order to see what else you can create, like developing a strong daily routine, starting that business, or maybe even working on yourself so that you can heal others, while the other side of this collective will open their hearts again to a new love which can be romance, friendship, or even adoption that is just as equally healing.

Pile Three ♡

The next thing in love for you is learning how to stop trying to win. I’m picking up multiple scenarios for this but the premise is that people in this pile are in love situations where there is no winner, and if there is, let the other person be the one to have it so that you can walk away and stop blocking yourself from better to come in. Some of you are in a long battle with a person by competing with them on who has the upperhand in the situationship, this involves the runner and chaser dynamic constantly reversing and both of you keeping tabs on each other when you’re supposed to be in no contact. The second scenario is sticking beside someone who has a wandering eye but trying relentlessly to get this person to choose you the way that you choose them. The third scenario is in general, trying to prove yourself in order to gain love from others by manipulating yourself and even them to win their affection. There is this storm brewing, you can even call this a tower moment, that could happen to finally get you to see the many ways that you are downplaying yourself with people who have stayed in your space and energy for far too long. You’re going to surrender from these situations to know what it means to pick yourself up and see how beautiful and worthy you are to the extent where you’ll be baffled by how much you’ve been settling for people who don’t deserve you. This phase will come with new connections, but what makes it different is realizing your authority in this by realizing how possible and freeing it is to choose people that choose you. Once you realize that you’re the prize in this game, let the winner take pride in being the fumbler, and be proud of yourself for not being the one to fumble you.

[lgbteca]

Today, even though I wanted to strangle Marta, I was able to empathize with her. It is not easy to stand before the unknown, even knowing that it is the best option for us. Its overwhelming. We all know it from experience. It makes us retreat to what is familiar, despite being toxic. One thing is to be aware of what our defense mechanisms are - Marta told Jaime that she feels safe when she does what it is expected from her -, another thing is to be able to abandon said mechanisms when they no longer serve us. When Marta goes to Jaime and informs him that she is not going with Fina, she does it to hide herself in the safety of what its expected from her. The possibility of being free and happy continues to cause her fear. Marta still does not imagine herself with Fina with the clarity with which Fina imagines herself with Marta. But she'll get there.

Fina will always be the bigger person. Her emotional intelligence allows her to safeguard her self-love and to understand Marta on the basis of her scale of values.

It's true that Fina was relentless, but sometimes in order for us to be better persons truth must be slaped in our face. Hard. Marta may have come out of the cage, but parts of the cage still remain inside. Fina knows and understands that, but also needs reassurance. No matter how or where, she needs to feel that Marta is 100% on her side.

We know that neither goes anywhere, but this post-honeymoon phase has been really great to watch. Now they are really consolidating as a couple.

[signode-blog]

"Mastering the Rainbow Moving Average: Effective Trading Strategies for All Market Conditions"

Introduction to Rainbow Moving Average The Rainbow Moving Average (RMA) is a powerful trading tool that combines multiple moving averages into a single, visually intuitive indicator. The RMA helps traders to visualize trends, determine market conditions, and identify potential entry and exit points. By using different periods for each moving average, the Rainbow Moving Average creates a layered,…

[bitterbatsgrimoire]

Numerology In Tarot

Aces

New beginning, opportunity, New Ideas, potential, drive and ambition.

Twos

Balance, Partnerships, Alignment, Duality, Choices.

Threes

Creativity, Expression, Connection, Unity. Growth.

Fours

Structure, Stability, Manifestation, Foundations, Consolidation, Order.

Fives

Change, Instability, Conflict, Repairing, Self Tending.

Sixes

Expansion, Communication, Security, Cooperation, Harmony.

Sevens

Reflection, knowledge, Assessment, Control.

Eights

Transformation, Liberation, Action, Accomplishment.

Nines

Fulfilment, Fruition, Spiritual Growth, Completeness, Balance.

Tens

End of a cycle, Beginning of a new phase, Renewal.

[ashxketchum]

Some consolidated thoughts on the new Digimon announcement:

Since it's set to Brave Heart, which is originally 4:13 long, assuming that they add an intro scene and round it off to 5 mins, I think that it's best to not have high expectations of the amount of content they will cover.

Having every Digidestined (including 02 kids) get substantial screen time is the highest bar I will set. If this requirement is fulfilled I will personally consider the video a success.

I can't seem to land on one solid reason for why we are getting a PV instead of a third movie to truly tie off the series (giving space for the Reboot version to take off into their journey so we're all like 68 and still watching & arguing about Digimon lol). I've seen a few comments about 02TB not performing well enough to warrant a third part, which I don't feel is the case because that move was even released in India, a rare occurrence, so the global popularity was definitely felt considering Kizuna was hit by the pandemic in this department.

I'm leaning more towards creative differences, because Kakudo has made it quite obvious that his vision does not align fully with the narrative that Kizuna, then 02TB have built. It's entirely possible that Seki and Kakudo just couldn't sign off on the actual plot presented to make a third movie, and decided to do their own thing hence the shorter format.

One staff at NYCC was introduced as being responsible for heading the new Digimon team, which does give me the hope that another anime series (REBOOT SEASON 2!!!) is in the works and they were just waiting for the 25th Anniversary projects to tide over before announcing it.

Onto the actual content of the video, I think for the fans that enjoyed Kizuna, especially the open ending (I'm Fans) a half-assed explanation of how Taichi and Yamato get back together with Agumon and Gabumon will be disappointing. That said, I don't think we'll really get an explanation for it but I do think the video can start off with Taichi and Yamato reuniting with their partners.

However, the tone set by 02TB implies that these guys are also well settled in their lives even without their partner Digimon, so for them to rush back into battle something HUGE would need to disrupt that flow, but can they even explain & sustain a huge occurrence like that in 4-5 mins? I don't want to answer this question lol.

Personally, I wouldn't mind a more laidback take, which leaves a lot of space for fans to interpret what happened, rather than just shoving sequence after sequence of important moments in high speed. Showing Taichi and Yamato and other older kids just going about their lives as adults and then there is that moment when they're hit by a nostalgic memory of their partners which starts off their path to reunion. I understand the need for having a villain for Taichi and Yamato to join forces and battle, but I'm totally okay with a more nuanced, slice-of-life version which hits home for all older Digimon fans currently struggling with adulting.

And finally, the controversial (still traumatized by it) Epilogue. I would prefer it if the point of this video is to show the reunion of the Digidestined and their partners, with the implication that this will lead to the epilogue shown in 02. But I also fear that in order to fit in the societal standard of "adulting", and with Seki being a part of this team most likely, they'll definitely add the married couples with kids tropes.

Keeping shipping aside, I think that showing Sora, Mimi, Miyako and Hikari in their exploration phase during Kizuna/02TB did wonders for their characterisations. Rather than shoehorning all of them into wives/mothers/tradfem roles, we actually got a glimpse of how they will always continue to break barriers and moulds, which is at the core of how every Digigirl was written originally. Still, as life goes on people do change so even if we see Mimi with a typical cooking show or Miyako the Mom, I wouldn't be as upset because Kizuna/02TB already gave us a good glimpse of how the girls are capable of forging their own paths, regardless of any male presence in their lives.

But jk we all know this is going to be a TaiYama fest so Idk why I'm even worrying over my girls, I will be grateful if we get Mimi on screen for more than 10 seconds 😂

So that's my thoughts, open for discussion, not condescending arguments 🫶🏻

[ev4ikcasswife]

BRIEF COMPARATIVE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE RELATIONSHIP OF CHANSAW IN THE MOVIE AND MUSICAL

By me & @evans-gallery

Special thanks goes to @theodichka for helping edit this article <3. This essay was originally in Russian, but we decided to translate it.

DISCLAIMER

By "chansaw" here we do not mean a ship, but only a duet/relationship between two characters. Evan and I are well aware that Chandler and Veronica's relationship in canon has no romantic overtones, and that such wording is merely used for convenience.

GREETINGS. WHY DOES THIS ANALYSIS EXIST?

As you know, Heathers the musical and the film are two different works. The difference between these media also affected the relationship between chansaw. Therefore, Evan and I decided to make a comparative description of the duet of Chandler and Veronica in the original and adaptation.

VERONICA'S RELATIONSHIP TO CHANDLER. BEGINNING OF THE FILM AND MUSICAL.

Unlike the musical, the film does not give us clear information about the chansaw's first meeting (namely, the circumstances under which they met, how long they have known each other, etc.). However, when we meet Veronica, we clearly see that she is simply tired of Heathers' company. When J.D. asked, “You are a Heather?” (here, not a name is assumed, but “one of the Heathers,” since “Heather” is preceded by the article “a”), the girl replies: “No. I'm a Veronica." With this phrase, Veronica emphasizes that she does not want to associate herself with the Heathers company and Heather Chandler in general.

Sawyer doesn't consider Heathers to be his real friends (and the scene at 7/11 confirms this, as Veronica literally compares Heathers to her co-workers, not her friends), presumably her motives for spending time with them are the same as in the musical (surviving high school ).

Chandler:"Come on, Veronica. You used to have sense of humor"

Interesting fact: At first, Veronica more willingly agreed to do all kinds of wild things that Chandler offered her. This is evidenced by Chandler's phrase: “You used to have a sense of humor.” Does this line suggest that Veronica enjoyed bullying people? More likely no than yes. She was probably just trying to consolidate her position in the company, so she was more accommodating first time.

Veronica: "Heathers and I have been friends for three weeks now!"

Unlike the film, in the musical Veronica has not yet gone through her “accommodating” phase. We also know how long chansaw has been knowing each other (approximately three weeks), and for her this place is much more important than her version from the original.

She is ready to tolerate bad attitude towards herself, towards her parents and towards her best friend (albeit only partially in the latter case). Veronica does not approve of Chan's actions, but does not enter into any particular confrontation with her (except for the moment at the party, but here the state of alcoholic intoxication played a role). This is not to say that Sawyer at the beginning of the film was able to tell Heather whatever she was thinking, but it is clear that she is much bolder than her version from the musical.

JD. PARTY IN REMINGTON.

As already mentioned, Veronica in the film is tired of Heathers' company. She regrets leaving Betty, her friend, for this company and her tense relationship with Chandler.

(I won't translate everything here, but in short, Veronica expresses regret at this point for leaving Betty for Heathers)

Jason became a breath of fresh air for Veronica (of course, only at first). The girl saw in him a good alternative to the company that was already boring her, so after a quarrel with Chan at a party, she realized that JD was a way to burn all the bridges between Sawyer and her past popular life. This is also confirmed by the fact that, apparently, Veronica initially wanted, albeit reluctantly, to apologize to Heather, but after a conversation with Jason she decided to finally break off relations with Chan, mixing all sorts of nonsense into her mug, because of which the girl in red I would throw up.

Veronica before talking to Jason: "Tomorrow I will have to kiss her trained ass, but today let me just dream of a world where is no Heather. A world where I am free."

Here, after a conversation with Jason, Veronica says that she wants to make Chandler throw up before cutting off all ties with her.

On Veronica’s part in the musical, a similar passage remained without much change, except that the girl was actually preparing a hangover cure for Chandler, because, as already mentioned, Sawyer had recently joined Heathers’ company, and this place was still important to her, unlike her movie version.

CHANDLER'S DEATH.

In the musical, because Heather Chandler's ghost is something of Veronica's conscience, Sawyer feels guilty for killing his "friend." In the moments when Ronnie was forced to show cruelty, one can see similarities with Chan (especially the poses).

Both versions of Veronica are trying to find an excuse for themselves, but unlike the musical, in the film the girl copes with Heather’s death quite quickly, even if she is very scared at first (cus killing a person was most likely not her everyday's routine, haha). Most likely, this is due to the fact that, again, Sawyer is simply tired of Chan’s company.

However, the scene with the locker still changes the girl's attitude towards Chandler's death. Noticing that Heather had been keeping photographs of her and Veronica together all this time, the latter realizes that for Chan their peculiar “friendship” had some weight. Veronica finally understands that everything she and JD did was not right.

To sum it up, Veronica's treatment of Chandler in the musical and the film is not too different. However, at the beginning of the latter, her relationship with Heather was already on the verge of breaking due to the fact that Sawyer regretted that she had exchanged her past friends for Chan's company and was tired of spending time with her. The episode with the locker does change Veronica's perception: she realizes that their relationship was still important to Heather to some extent, so we can assume that Sawyer changed her attitude towards Heather for the better.

CHANDLER'S ATTITUDE TO VERONICA.

We're probably going to say a very provocative thing now, but Chandler in the film shows some kind of respect for Veronica. Let's look at the beginning: the lunchtime poll. Heather Duke and Veronica question Chan about it, despite the fact that the latter discussed the topic with both of them, but only Duke receives a sharp reaction from Chandler.

This may mean that Heather does take into account Sawyer's opinion, although not always. The fact that Chandler hangs around with Veronica during the lunch poll, even though Veronica doesn't provide any practical benefit (Heather asks the questions and she writes down the answers), may hint that Chan enjoys Veronica's company to some extent. Yes, she still uses the latter's skills for her own purposes, but at the beginning of the film there is no sense of outright disrespect on Heather's part, unlike the musical.

In the musical, Chandler brought her negative qualities to the maximum. She is rude to Veronica's parents, humiliates the girl in blue's childhood friend, shakes her at a party and forces her to humiliate herself on her knees to ask for forgiveness. And in general, the whole problem of chensav in the musical is the fault of Chandler’s image. Heather in the film did none of the above (just in case, Veronica's childhood friend in the original was Betty, not Martha), which makes her more mature.

WHY WAS HEATHER SO ANGRY AT VERONICA AT THE PARTY?

At this point we are only identifying the cause-and-effect relationship of Heather’s actions. Chandler in both episodes acts, to put it mildly, badly, and such behavior cannot be justified.

In the film, partying at Remington is, in Heather's opinion, an acquisition of status. Most likely, she was going to enter this university and wanted the same for Veronica. With her requests to leave and her subsequent behavior, Sawyer, in Heather's opinion, put their reputations at risk. Veronica's very bold responses to Chan's claims completely infuriated the latter, which is why she broke off the relationship between them.

In the musical, everything is much simpler - Heather appeared at the Inca in the evening in a society in which she already had a reputation, and Veronica’s open resistance could damage it. This is what caused Chan to react so strongly.

A FEW WORDS ABOUT THE LOCKER SCENE

Chandler felt a connection with Veronica, as evidenced by the locker scene and partly the moment where McNamara, after Chan's death, says that Heather would give her watch to Veronica, since she was unhappy with her taste in accessories. In general, one could say that the moment with the clock is far-fetched, but imagine the same Duke in Veronica’s place. Chandler would hardly give her things to Heather, even if she was dissatisfied with her taste.

This stupid app won't let me insert photos. If anything, the line about the watch was in the scene where the girls were discussing Chandler's death in the locker room. If you need to show one or another scene described above, don't be afraid to ask.

In the musical, this connection manifests itself in the form of Heather as a phantom as Veronica's conscience, but such interactions cannot compare to the scenes above.

IN CONCLUSION

The Chansaw in the film is clearly more interesting and deeper than the Chansaw in the musical (especially on Chan's part). They have moments that show the connection between them. Their relationship in the film is very far from ideal, given the nature of both girls, but it still feels much stronger and capable of development (under any ideal circumstances). The main problem with the Chansaw in the musical is the way the two are presented. If Veronica's character was not distorted so much, Chan underwent big changes.

In the film, Chandler shows insecurity at the Remington party, which adds depth to her character. In the musical, she is unshakable and seems to have no complexes at all. The relationship between Heather and Veronica in the musical is simply not interesting to watch, since they do not have the same hints of any kind of friendship as they did in the film, so their relationship is clearly better developed in the original.

That's all. Thanks for reading this essay, don't be afraid to ask questions & say your opinion. Sorry for the dumb grammatical mistakes, me and Evan are from Russia, so we are just learning English ✌️✌️

[dearaur0ra]

four

young silco x fem!oc

tw: violence, cursing

previous ao3 masterlist next (soon)

—

the chem-baron meeting was held in a dim, smoke-filled room. the air was heavy with the sharp tang of smoke burning in the corner pipes, a haze clinging to every surface. i sat at the head of the table, though it didn’t feel like i belonged there. not without her.

the others were already talking over each other when i arrived, their voices an ugly tangle of panic and anger.

“it’s over,” one of them, a wiry man with a scar splitting his cheek, hissed. “piltover’s gutted us. no leader means no leverage.”

“we still have the factories,” a stout woman countered, her thick chains clinking as she gestured. “our workers keep this city running, whether piltover likes it or not.”

“the workers don’t fight wars,” the wiry man shot back. “and let’s not pretend piltover doesn’t have the power to shut those factories down if they feel like it. they just took mercy out without blinking.”

the words made my jaw tighten, my fists clenching beneath the table. i wanted to hit him. i wanted to shout that she wasn’t just taken out. but i kept quiet, forcing myself to listen.

“you’re all missing the point,” another voice chimed in, smooth and calculated. it was finch, a younger chem-baron with sharp eyes and sharper ambitions. “this isn’t about piltover’s power. it’s about ours—or the lack of it. without mercy, there’s no one holding this together. vander might be strong,” he added, his gaze flicking to me, “but strength doesn’t make people follow you.”

the room went silent for a moment, all eyes turning to me. i could feel their judgment, their doubt, pressing in on me like a weight.

“so what’s your grand idea, finch?” i said finally, my voice low, steady.

finch smirked, leaning back in his chair. “we consolidate. merge forces, resources. pick someone strong enough to lead us into the next phase.”

“and that someone’s you, is it?” i asked, my tone sharp enough to cut.

his smirk faltered, and the stout woman laughed, a harsh, barking sound. “finch, you couldn’t lead a rat to a piece of bread, let alone zaun.”

the table erupted again, voices clashing as accusations and insults flew. my head throbbed with every word.

“enough!” i slammed my fist on the table, the sound echoing through the room. they all froze, their eyes snapping to me.

“we don’t move forward by tearing each other apart,” i said, my voice hard. “mercy wouldn’t want that. she’d want us to stand together, to fight for what’s left of zaun.”

“easy to say,” the scarred man muttered. “harder to do when piltover’s breathing down our necks.”

“then we show them we’re not afraid,” i shot back. “we push back. we make them remember why mercy believed in this place. why she believed in us.”

the words hung in the air, heavier than the shimmer smoke. no one spoke for a long moment, and i wondered if they saw through me—if they knew i was clinging to her memory as much for myself as for zaun.

finally, the stout woman nodded. “you’ve got guts, vander. that’s a start.”

“a start’s all we’ve got,” i said. “but it’s enough.”

—

the place felt too quiet. too small.

i stood in the doorway, staring at what used to be their family home. piper sat on the floor, folding what little she had into a tattered bag. welsh was by the window, his hands steady despite the slight limp in his step as he worked to pack away the last of their things.

the house looked hollow now—walls bare, the smell of warm meals and laughter long gone. mercy’s absence hung heavy in the air, like a shadow that wouldn’t leave.

“vander,” welsh said quietly, turning to me. his voice was calm, but his eyes were tired, lined with something deeper than the pain in his leg. “can you… grab mercy’s things? piper doesn’t want to go in there.”

“yeah,” i muttered, though the word barely scraped out of me. i glanced at the young girl, her small hands clenching the fabric of her bag, and then back to welsh. “yeah, i’ll get it.”

her room was at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. i pushed it open, the hinges creaking softly, and stepped inside.

the first thing i noticed were the paintings. they covered the walls, all different sizes and shapes. one caught my eye right away—a picture of silco and me, laughing. laughing like we didn’t have a care in the world. she’d caught the look in our eyes, the way we leaned toward each other like we were brothers.

another painting was just a silhouette—silco with a cigarette in hand, smoke curling up and away. she’d painted it dark, the edges soft and blurred, like a memory.

then there was the one of her family. mercy had painted them around the dinner table, the colors warm and vibrant, almost glowing. i could feel the love in it, the way she’d brought life to each of their faces.

my throat tightened, and i forced myself to look away.

her desk was covered in papers, scattered like leaves in the wind. some were plans for zaun—half-finished notes, diagrams, and sketches of machines i didn’t understand. above the desk, pinned to the wall, was a map. piltover and zaun, together, the lines between them faded like she’d imagined something better.

i walked over to her bed, small and neatly made, and sat down. it creaked under my weight. her closet was nearly empty—just a few clothes hanging loosely on thin metal hangers. on the top shelf, a small box sat alone, the kind you’d almost miss if you weren’t looking.

curiosity got the better of me. i reached up and pulled it down, the lid sliding off easily.

inside were pieces of her life, bits she’d kept close to her heart. there were birthday cards, the edges worn from being opened and closed too many times. a little trinket—a rusted coin she’d once told me was “lucky.”

and then, at the bottom, drawings. they were old, the pencil lines faint but still visible. one showed the three of us—me, silco, and her—back when we were kids. i could tell she’d done it in a hurry, the lines messy but full of life.

beneath that was another, this one more careful. it was her brothers—welsh with his crutch, piper smiling wide. she’d drawn them as she wanted to see them: happy, whole.

i set the box down on my lap, running a hand over the lid. the weight of it all—her life, her love for the people around her—it settled on my chest like a stone.

“what the hell do i do now, mercy?” i whispered to the empty room.

but the room didn’t answer. it just sat there, quiet and still, holding the echoes of her.

when i left, i carried the box with me. it wasn’t much, but it was hers. and right now, that was all i could hold on to.

—

we sat outside the new place, just the two of us. piper was inside, asleep on the small cot shoved into the corner of their tiny room. the place wasn’t much—just a single room in the lower parts of the undercity, the walls damp and cracked, the air stale. i’d seen better storage closets in some of the old warehouses.

welsh leaned back against the wall, his crutch propped up beside him, his face drawn and tired. the strain of it all was written in the lines around his eyes, the tightness in his jaw.

“we didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. “couldn’t afford to stay in the house. not with mum gone. and now—” his voice hitched, but he swallowed hard and forced himself to continue. “now mercy’s gone too.”

i looked down at my hands, rough and calloused from years of work, useless now. “i could’ve helped. you should’ve said something.”

he shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “what were you gonna do, vander? pay for a place neither of us could keep up with? it’s not like i can work the mines anymore, and piper—she’s just a kid. it’s better this way.”

“better?” the word felt wrong, sour in my mouth. “this ain’t better, welsh. this ain’t a life.”

“it’s what we’ve got,” he said simply, like he’d already made peace with it.

i hesitated, then leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “my place ain’t much, but it’s got room. you and piper—you’d be safe there. i can make it work.”

he looked at me then, really looked, his eyes sharp despite the exhaustion. “vander, you’ve done enough for us. for her.” he sighed, shaking his head. “we can’t lean on you forever. mercy wouldn’t want that. she’d want us to stand on our own.”

“standing on your own don’t mean struggling alone,” i muttered, but welsh didn’t budge.

“it’s not just about us,” he said. “it’s about you. you’ve got enough to carry without us weighing you down.”

i wanted to argue, to push back, but the set of his jaw told me it was no use. welsh was as stubborn as his sister had been.

after a long stretch of silence, he spoke again, softer this time. “thank you, though. for offering. for… everything.”

i nodded, not trusting myself to say anything without my voice breaking.

“you know, mercy used to talk about you a lot,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “said you were one of the only ones who really understood what she wanted for zaun. said you’d keep fighting for it, no matter what.”

his words hit like a punch to the gut, but i stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“i know you’re hurting,” he continued, his voice steady despite the cracks in it. “but you can’t let this be for nothing. what happened to her—it has to mean something.”

his words lit a fire in my chest, the kind that burned too hot to ignore. “i’ll make it,” i said finally, my voice low. “i don’t know how yet, but i will.”

he nodded, his expression softening. “good. because she’d want that. she’d want you to keep fighting, not just for her, but for everything she believed in.”

“she’d want us to keep fighting,” i corrected him.

welsh smiled, the faintest glimmer of warmth breaking through the grief. “yeah. she would.”

the conversation lingered long after he went inside, leaving me alone in the damp night air. his words weren’t just a request—they were a weight, a responsibility i couldn’t walk away from.

mercy’s fight wasn’t over, not yet. and i’d be damned if i let it end here.

—

the lanes were quiet in a way they never were. it wasn’t the kind of silence that came from fear or tension, but something heavier. grief hung in the air, thick and suffocating, as people gathered near the water. they came in ones and twos, carrying candles or lanterns, their faces shadowed but solemn.

felisha stood near the edge of the makeshift platform benzo had thrown together, her hands resting together. she looked so small, so fragile, but when she turned to face the crowd, her voice carried over the stillness like a wave.

“we don’t have her body,” she said, her voice breaking on the words. “we don’t even know where they took her. but if we could’ve buried her, she’d want to be here. by the water. she always said the sound of it reminded her of the freedom she dreamed of for zaun. she wanted all of us to be free, to have a future we could be proud of. and she gave everything for that dream.”

i saw her shoulders shake as she tried to hold herself together. benzo stepped closer, a steadying hand on her arm, but she waved him off. she wasn’t done.

“mercy wasn’t just a leader. she was a sister, a daughter, a friend. she was ours. and now she’s gone, taken from us by people who don’t see us as worth anything more than the dirt beneath their boots. but she saw us. she believed in us. and if she were here, she’d tell us not to give up. she’d tell us to fight, not with hate, but with hope. because that’s what she stood for—hope.”

felisha’s voice cracked again, and she bowed her head, a sob escaping before she could stop it. “i miss her,” she whispered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. “i miss her so much.”

the crowd was silent, save for the faint sound of the water lapping against the docks. then, one by one, people stepped forward, lighting their candles and placing them on the ground or floating them out on the water. the glow spread slowly at first, then all at once, like a wave of light rolling over the darkness.

i stood off to the side, watching as the faces of the crowd were illuminated, their expressions a mix of sorrow and quiet determination. felisha had moved back, leaning heavily against connel, her face buried in her hands. i wanted to say something to her, to comfort her, but what could i say?

instead, i looked out over the water, at the flickering candles that seemed to stretch on forever. the light reflected on the surface, shimmering and unsteady, like it was trying to hold onto something that was already slipping away.

“she’d have loved this,” benzo said quietly, stepping up beside me. “all these people coming together for her.”

i nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

“it ain’t right, vander,” he continued, his voice low and rough. “what happened to her. but seeing this... it makes you think maybe, just maybe, her dream ain’t gone with her.”

i didn’t answer. i couldn’t. the weight of it all—the loss, the guilt, the responsibility—it was too much. but as i stood there, watching the light spread across the lanes, i felt something stir deep in my chest. a spark, faint but steady.

hope.

and for the first time since we lost her, i thought maybe, just maybe, that spark could grow.

—

the crowd had begun to disperse, the flickering candles slowly drifting out on the water, and i couldn’t take it anymore. the silence between us—between me and everyone—was suffocating. i had to do something, anything to shake it off.

and then, i saw him.

silco.

standing at the edge of the crowd, trying to blend in like he could hide in plain sight. his hair was a mess, hanging in his face like it was too heavy for him to care about. his hands shook—just barely, almost imperceptible—but it was there, enough to make my blood boil.

he didn’t deserve grief. he didn’t deserve anything.

he turned, like he was trying to disappear into the night, but i wasn’t going to let that happen. not this time.

my fists clenched at my sides, my teeth grinding. the rage inside me was a tide, rising higher with every step. i was following him now, trailing behind him like a predator stalking its prey. if he thought he could escape, he was wrong.

he walked slow, too slow, like he couldn’t even manage the effort anymore. but he didn’t know i was there, not yet. i was getting closer, the distance between us shrinking with every moment, my anger boiling over.

the first drops of rain fell, cold against my skin, a warning of the storm that was coming. the sky cracked open above us as he reached the docks, the rain pouring down in heavy sheets, soaking everything in its path. the ground was slick beneath my boots, the air thick with the bitter sting of the storm, but it didn’t matter. none of it mattered but him.

he stopped at the edge of the docks, staring at the dark water, the waves lapping at the wood like they were whispering some secret only he could hear. but i didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“you,” i growled, my voice barely controlled, crackling with the fury i could no longer hold in. “this is your fault. you got her killed.”

he didn’t flinch. didn’t even look at me.

my heart pounded in my chest, rage twisting every inch of me, the kind of rage that had been building ever since she’d been taken from us. it burned. it consumed. if it wasn’t for him, she’d still be here.

“you killed her, silco.” my voice rose, thick with venom. “you let them take her. you let her die.”

he didn’t turn. didn’t even move.

i stepped closer, my boots slipping on the wet wood, but it didn’t stop me.

“you’re standing here like you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it,” i spat, every word a lash.

finally, he turned. and i saw it in his eyes—those hollow, haunted eyes. the grief wasn’t just in his face. it was in his whole body, trembling, raw, and broken.

but it wasn’t enough. it wasn’t enough for me to care about his grief. not anymore.

“vander,” he said, his voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper. "what do you want?"

it wasn’t an apology. it wasn’t regret. it was just... emptiness.

“i want you dead,” i growled, my words spilling out before i could stop them. “i want you to pay for what you did. you are the reason she’s gone. you let them take her. you let her die.”

he stood still, staring at me like i was the mad one. but it didn’t matter.

“vander, you don’t know—”

“don’t you dare!” i shouted, stepping closer, my chest heaving with the force of it all. “don’t you dare try to justify it! you failed her. you let it happen. you stood by and did nothing.”

his eyes flickered—just for a moment, but it was enough. a flash of guilt, maybe, but i didn’t care. i was too far gone, too lost in the bloodlust.

“you think you’re the only one who’s hurting? who's guilty?” his voice cracked, hoarse, raw. but there was no remorse in it—only that sharp, bitter edge.

“you think i wanted this?” he rasped.

you don’t get to speak.

“she would’ve followed you anywhere,” i spat. “it was you she loved.”

his face faltered, like i had hit him, but i didn’t care.

“what are you talking about, vander?” he asked, confusion flickering in his eyes.

“gods, you’re stupid,” i hissed, the rain pouring down harder, mixing with the anger in my veins. “you’re the only one she loved back. don’t you see? you’re the one she chose, and you killed her.”

i couldn’t take it anymore. i shoved him. hard.

he stumbled back, off balance, and fell onto the jagged rocks beneath the dock. a scream tore from his mouth as a shard of stone pierced his left eye, blood pouring down his face.

but i didn’t stop. i kept moving, jumping into the shallow water after him. my hands shaking, and my chest heaving with rage.

he crawled back, one arm pressed against the ground to hold himself up, his clothes drenched, his face twisted in pain.

“vander,” he gasped, struggling to push himself up. “stop.”

but i didn’t stop.

i waded into the water after him, pulling him by his collar, dragging him deeper into the icy, lapping waves. the rain battered us, soaking us both, the cold seeping into my bones.

he clawed at my arms, trying to break free, but it wasn’t enough. nothing was enough.

“please,” he gasped, his voice pleading. “vander, please...”

i shoved his head underwater, over and over again, hearing his desperate gasps through the waves, feeling his body fight against mine.

the storm roared around us, drowning out everything but the sound of the struggle, the water crashing against the dock, the rain pounding on my back.

and then—

he found my knife, slashing at me, the blade cutting deep into my arm. i stumbled back, blood spilling from the wound, my vision swimming.

silco gasped for air, choking, his one good eye wide with terror. he staggered back, his body trembling, soaked through, barely standing.

but when our eyes met, there was no fear in his gaze. only something cold. something unyielding.

he didn’t run.

he stood there, his chest heaving, blood and rain streaming down his face, daring me to come at him again.

and for the first time, the rage faltered.

she was gone.

and no amount of blood was going to bring her back.

the rain poured down around us, drowning everything in its wake.

i turned away.

—

fourteen years future

when i took them in—vi and powder—it wasn’t some grand, noble decision. it was survival. their parents were gone, stolen in the chaos on the bridge, and they were left with nothing. no one.

and i couldn’t leave them to fend for themselves. not them. not felisha and connel’s girls.

i saw too much of myself in them, too much of mercy too, in the way vi’s shoulders already carried more weight than a child’s ever should, in the way powder clung to her sister like she was the only thing keeping her tethered to the world.

they didn’t ask for any of this.

neither did i, but that didn’t matter anymore.

i brought them home—if you could even call it that. the place was a mess, reeking of the fights and bad nights that had come and gone. but to them, it was something, a roof over their heads, walls to keep out the worst of the undercity.

i tried to make it better, cleared out the worst of the clutter, made space for them to sleep, to breathe. vi didn’t say much those first few weeks, just kept her arms around powder and watched me with those sharp, wary eyes, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

but powder... she’d crawl into my lap when vi was asleep, her tiny hands clutching at my shirt as she whispered about her parents. “where’d they go?” she’d ask, her voice so quiet it hurt.

i never had an answer for her.

but it wasn’t just about them, not really. taking them in—it forced me to see what this place was. what it had become.

i’d spent years fighting for zaun, for some dream of freedom and independence that always seemed just out of reach. i’d bled for it, lost a friend for it, and mercy had died for it.

and what did it get us? bodies on a bridge. an undercity crawling with despair.

vi and powder—they didn’t need a symbol. they didn’t need some grand revolution. they needed safety.

so i left zaun behind. the dream of it, anyway.

silco would never understand that, and maybe i didn’t expect him to. we’d made our choices, and mine was clear. i wasn’t going to risk everything—risk those girls—for a dream that only led to more blood.

“why are we here?” vi’s voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and frustrated. her hood is pulled low, casting a shadow over her face, though it can’t quite hide the fire in her eyes.

i sigh, the weight of it heavy in my chest. we stand on the bridge, near a makeshift memorial—candles flicker around weathered photos, the faces of those we lost to this place. “you still don’t understand,” i say quietly.

vi steps away from the pillar, her shoulders squared, fists clenched. “what i don’t understand,” she snaps, “is how you can work with them! we were here, we saw what they did!” she gestures wildly toward the undercity, her voice trembling with rage. “i grew up knowing i’m less than them, that my place is down there.”

she points to the murk of the lanes, and her words hang in the air like a blade waiting to drop.

“i want powder to have more than that,” she hisses, stepping closer, her jaw tight with conviction. “and i’m willing to fight for it.”

she’s her mother’s daughter. fierce. unrelenting. i can see felisha in the set of her jaw, in the fire behind her eyes.

“so was i,” i admit, meeting her glare head-on. “i was angry, just like you. i led us across this bridge once, thinking things could change.” i glance toward the railing, the memories washing over me like a tide i can’t stop. “if i hadn’t... your parents would still be alive.”

the words hit her like a punch to the gut. vi takes a step back, leaning against the pillar as if it’s the only thing keeping her standing.

“i know you want to hurt them, vi,” i say, my voice softer now. “i know you do. but who are you willing to lose?” i pause, letting the names sink in. “mylo? claggor? powder?”

her eyes dart away, but i can see the tears pooling.

i push off the railing and lean beside her. the rain drizzles lightly, just enough to cling to the air. “no one wins in war, vi,” i murmur. “it just... takes. and it never stops taking.”

she rests her head against my shoulder, her small frame shivering. “what are we gonna do?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “the enforcers will come back.”

i hesitate, hating how little i have to offer her. “i... i don’t know,” i admit. “but i’ll figure it out. i promise.”

and i mean it. for her. for powder. i’d burn myself out before i’d let the same thing happen to them.

—

this is what it means to be a protector, i tell myself. sometimes you do things you hate. things you’ll carry forever.

“benzo!” vi’s voice tears through the night, pounding against the locked door. “open the damn door!” her fists hit the wood, each thud echoing through the empty shop.

inside, benzo walks me toward the enforcers. grayson and marcus wait in the alley, their shadows stretching long under the dim lantern light.

“this is the right thing,” i murmur, though the words taste bitter.

a low rumble cuts through the silence. the air shifts, heavy and electric.

then the first scream.

it happens so fast.

a monstrous shape barrels out of the darkness, glowing purple eyes fixed on grayson. she raises her gun, her voice sharp as she yells, “stop!” but it doesn’t.

blood sprays the cobblestones as her body hits the ground.

“no,” benzo whispers, his voice trembling.

the beast roars, its hulking form barely human, and benzo doesn’t hesitate. he grabs a rusted pipe from the ground and steps forward, his grip white-knuckled.

“stay back!” i shout, but benzo ignores me.

and then i see him.

a silhouette in the haze, walking calmly toward us.

“silco,” benzo growls, his voice laced with venom. "you animal. go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of!"

the figure steps into the light, and i feel the air leave my lungs.

his face is a horror of scars, his left side sunken and twisted, a grotesque mirror of the man i once called my brother. his smirk is cold, calculated, his eyes gleaming with malice.

“you never did know when to walk away,” he says smoothly, his voice like a knife slicing through the tension.

benzo lunges.

“no!” i scream, but it’s too late. silco moves faster than i thought possible.

blood. it’s everywhere. benzo collapses in a heap, his pipe clattering to the ground.

“stubborn to the end,” silco mutters, shaking his head.

marcus steps forward, his voice trembling. “this wasn’t the deal!”

silco tosses him a heavy bag, the clink of coins loud in the silence. “deals change,” he says simply.

he turns his attention to me, his smirk growing. the beast looms behind him, its glowing eyes fixed on me as it takes a step closer.

i brace myself, every muscle tensed, knowing this might be the end.

—

when i come to, the world feels heavier than it should. the cold bite of the chains digging into my wrists anchors me, the ache in my ribs a dull throb against the quiet. my head swims, the edges of my vision blurred, but i don’t need to see clearly to know where i am. or who i’m with.

silco’s voice cuts through the haze before my eyes fully adjust.

“it’s a little crude, i’ll admit,” he says, like he’s musing to himself. his tone is calm, too calm, and that only makes the tension worse. “the base violence necessary for change.”

his footsteps echo lightly on the grated floor, deliberate, like he’s making sure i hear every step.

“but we both know,” he continues, his voice colder now, “topside won’t listen to anything else.”

i force my head up, blinking against the dim, flickering light. silco’s outline sharpens, his posture rigid as he stands above me. his face is a mask of disdain, though there’s something else there too—something harder to name.

i grit my teeth and push the words out, my throat dry. “even with your monsters,” i rasp, “you won’t win a war against piltover.”

silco turns slightly, just enough for me to catch the faintest twitch of a smile, bitter and cruel. “i don’t have to,” he says, and there’s a dangerous edge to his voice now. “i just need to scare them. they won’t dare set foot in the underground again.”

my stomach churns. the weight of his plan, of what he’s willing to do, settles over me like a lead blanket. i shake my head, my voice firm despite the fatigue pulling at me. “you’ll get people killed,” i say, my chest tightening with the weight of the truth. “and for what, silco? pride?”

he turns on me so fast i barely register it before his voice lashes out.

“for respect,” he snaps, his voice lowering but no less sharp. “opportunity. everything they’ve denied us.”

his words hit harder than the chains ever could.

“you had my respect,” i say, softer now but no less bitter. “the lane’s respect. but that was never enough for you, was it?”

he doesn't answer, the weight of my accusation heavy in the air. he takes a step back, his expression shifting—less anger now, more… something else.

“we shared a vision, vander,” he says, his voice quieter but no less forceful. “a dream of freedom. not just for the lanes, but for the whole of the underground, united as one. the nation of zaun.”

his words hang between us, heavy with memory and regret.

“do you even remember?” he asks, and for a moment, there’s something raw in his voice. something vulnerable.

i swallow hard, my throat tight. “what i did to you,” i start, my voice barely above a whisper, “i’ve never forgiven myself.”

his eyes narrow again, the softness in his expression vanishing in an instant.

“you were my brother,” i add, the words catching in my throat.

silco’s face hardens, his lip curling into something between a sneer and a snarl. “no,” he says, his voice sharp and final. “you still don’t understand.”

he steps closer again, leaning down so his face is level with mine. “can you imagine what it’s like,” he says, his voice low and cold, “when your blood mixes with the filth, and the river toxins eat through your nerves?”

i flinch, the vividness of his words twisting in my gut.

“oh, i hated you for what you’d done,” he continues, his tone cutting like a knife. “but as time passed, so did my hate.”

he stands again, turning away slightly as his voice grows quieter. “and i was left with an understanding,” he says, almost to himself now. “the only way to defeat a superior enemy is to stop at nothing. to become what they fear.”

he looks back at me, his eyes sharp and unwavering. “i hated you,” he says, his voice steady, “but you kept my respect. until you made peace with them. played lapdog after everything we suffered.”

i close my eyes for a moment, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “i had no choice,” i say, the words barely audible.

silco’s laugh is bitter and humorless. “perhaps,” he says, his voice dripping with condescension.

he reaches into his slim vest, pulling out a small vial of glowing purple liquid. “but now you do.”

he holds it up, the light from the shimmer casting eerie reflections across the room.

“shimmer,” he says, his voice almost reverent. “we have the power. we can finally realize our dream-,” he narrows his eyes onto mine,

“-brother.”

—

[funnypages]

Lessons of Resistance from WWII: The Rosenstrasse Protest and Evacuation of the Danish Jews

So a long history rant I think people should know about and keep in mind for the future. I want to talk to people about a little talked about story in the history of WWII, the Rosenstrasse protest: the one time, during the height of the Holocaust, when the German public protested against the deportation of Jews; and they won.

1942-early 1943 was arguably the height of Nazi Germany; with most of the continent occupied, allied, or neutral to them. It was also 2 years into the Final Solution phase of the Holocaust, the planned mass killing of Jews. In February 1943, the government began the final round-up of the 20,000 remaining Jews in Berlin. This included a category of Jews that the government had previously avoided deporting: Jews married to gentile Germans. While the Nazis had cracked down on these relationships since they came to power, there were at this time 1,800 mixed couples remaining in Berlin; almost all Jewish men married to gentile women (After the consolidation of power under Hitler, more German men had divorced their Jewish partners than women).

When these Jewish men were arrested, hundreds of their non-Jewish spouses descended upon the building they were held in, bringing with them friends and families, screaming for their husbands to be released. The protests were so large, that the Nazis could not suppress news of it spreading through Germany and internationally; and they were also genuinely afraid that arresting or shooting these women could cause the situation to spiral even further into an outright uprising. As a result, the men were released, and most of them survived the war.

Now there are a lot of critiques and analyses that can be done of the protest, about privilege and gender, and noting that nothing was said about releasing the 18,000 other Berlin Jews set to be deported to camps. Still, the reaction that the public had to these deportations, combined with the shockingly hopeful story of Denmark in the Holocaust, gives some valuable lessons in how fascists can be thwarted.

Demark was invaded by Germany in 1939 and was given a degree of autonomy, being treated as the "model protectorate." While the Danish government did acquiesce to demands to ban Communist and Socialist political parties, they refused to enact racial laws targeting Danish Jews. While not to say anti-semitism didn't exist in Denmark, for reasons debated by historians and sociologists, Denmark did not have a strong history of "othering" its Jewish community, and it was largely seen as an accepted part of Danish society.

In September 1943, German plans to deport the Danish Jewish community to concentration camps leaked to the Danish government, which then alerted leaders of the Jewish community. Over 3 weeks churches, civil servants (notably mostly working independently of the government), political parties, the Danish resistance (mostly at this point made up of the before mentioned Communists and Socialists), and private individuals helped evacuate 7,220 Jews, plus 686 non-Jewish spouses, by sea to nearby neutral Sweden. For context, the Jewish population of Denmark before the invasion was around 7,800. Of the 580 Danish Jews who failed to escape to Sweden, 464 were arrested; however, work by Swedish and Danish groups saw 425 of them released. Further, when the war ended, it was discovered that 116 Danish Jews had been hidden by their neighbors. In all, a shocking 99% of Denmark's Jewish population survived the Holocaust; the most of any occupied nation in Europe.

I tell both of these stories because they show what fascists and authoritarians are aware of: the limits of their power. They are aware of the simple fact so much of their power comes from average people just accepting what they do with no pushback. These groups thrive on atomization, demonization, and otherization. Because when people refuse to let their neighbors be attacked, that's when issues pop up. There were other individuals and groups in Germany who spoke out against the Nazis (the White Rose and the Edelweiss Pirates to name a few), but they were small and disorganized, they could be arrested or exiled or killed without much effort. But large groups of resistance? How do you arrest or kill those without stopping their families and friends from protesting? And the foot soldiers enacting their agenda tend to get antsy if there is large-scale pushback to them. The big guys in charge might be safe, but them? They are vulnerable to being fired, sued, arrested, or ostracised if they are seen enacting unpopular policies. Such actions put authorities on the defensive, stall them, and make them reconsider their tactics; which in the long run, can save lives.

This is what people mean, whether they know it or not, over the last few days when they have been saying "Help those close to you, keep your friends close." They want you to think they are all-powerful. They want you to think they are unstoppable. They want you to think there is no hope in openly denying them. Because they know that if those few people openly defying them become large groups openly defying them, then things spiral out of control.

[horizon-verizon]

Maybe this Will Put Things into Perspective about Rhaenyra & Cersei's Kids Being Bastards or Not...

Feudalism is an early period or a economic phase of a millennia-managed con against anyone who isn't a noble man, and most men are the active conmen.

Neither set of kids were ever declared bastards. Nor were they ever or "acknowledged" as bastards, because noblemen "acknowledge" a child they father onto another woman. noblewomen, in theory, can, but if their having had sex premaritally/extramaritally isn't already known outside of the household they do not. Because to do without it already being known (like with Alys Turnberry) would publicly ruin her prospects for marriage in the future, ruin her reputation, and likely muddy the family's as well.

Robert probably would have removed those kids from the line of succession had he known (and he didn't) if not outight remove them from the mortal coil. But instead, he got gutted. Therefore, Cersei's kids are not officially or "legally" bastards. That prior declaration is what is required to have them "legally" known as bastards.

Bastardry has always been more of a legal question in its nature than a biological fact of nature. Of course, we the audience and most of ther know that Rhaenyra's kids aren't Laenor's biologically; Ned correctly deduced that Cersei's weren't Robert's biologically. However, he was never able to get his information to matter "legally", or to get it to Robert to make a decision on. Whereas Laenor, Corlys, Viserys all knew and decided to maintain the boys as their heirs. And they made this decision based on the lack of knowledge the public has/what they can control. Which is often what any noble does; once again, GRRM has explicitly stated that the lords of Westeros often take advantage to twist "laws" (customs) according to the circumstances around them & their own desires, and it's is not exclusive to bastards already "acknowledged".

The purpose of marriage as an institution is entirely for the lord/nobleman's benefit. It is an institution that was created and developed entirely for a man's political interests (a father's, a brother's, a husband's, a son's, etc.). And it was made to consolidate/monopolize the noble woman's (or really any woman) body and reproductive labor so as to produce living products to pass on the resources/titles mainly the lord and his ancestors have aggregated. To try to make sure those resources are passed to the people the lord wants passed own to, the sexual purity culture imposed on women and girls works to construct shame & suppress female extramarital and premarital sexual activity, which is an aspect of her overall agency. Her agency is re-confined/socially reduced to her sexual activity because she has no other primary function nor legal privileges aside form being a wife, mother, daughter, virgin, etc. Or sometimes the protectoress of her husband's/son's assets: the castle at times of war/siege when the lord is not present; director of his household's activities and servants by being its head overseer of accounts. Therefore, the lord is literally claiming his wife as his effective property through her womb & this is often why when we see women like Daena sleeping with a man not her husband, it is an act of reinforcing her authority or political agency in spite of how she was raised to see her own body.

Think about it: why do we not have a world or society (fictional or not) where even though the wife births a child not her husband's the husband's do not willfully or are "legally" compelled to adopt that child as their own, effectively de-fathering the biological father? Because men want to feel as if they have as close to total ownership over female companionship and labor so they consolidate power to themselves and not to women. Having all these designations of gender and "bastardry" that everyone are compelled to follow makes that easier without expending energy or sharing power. Medieval customs put the social-legal identification of "bastard" from the institution of marriage, its compulsions on women, and their reproductive labor/bodies/uteruses being claimed by the men who are "licensed" to own them. Which is why when we say that neither Cersei's nor Rhaenyra's kids are "bastards" it is true *in the sense that one should not carry the sense of their inferiorty into how we see their innate value as human beings AND none of them have ever been "proven" publicly to be not their putative father's children*, because the purpose of bastardry is to attempt to reclaim the product of reproductive labor and Viserys/Corlys/Laenor/Robert have already done that. To protest about how Robert didn't know about his kids not being his kids is really to protest how he didn't not get the products of Cersei's reproductive labor in the usual male-prioritized business of objectifying female labor that is intrinsic in this feudal society. Whereas Viserys/Laenor/Corlys accepted the products of Rhaenyra's reproductive labor.

All this is also why I really don't care for the impassioned argument of these women were being "unfair" to the system (Rhaenyra) or to their husbands, fathers etc. (Cersei) or them being "liars" or "destructive". Feudalism is itself an objectifying, unfair, unequal system. It is designed to benefit men and mainly men inherently, and directly at the expense of women who risk death itself while a man fathering any sort of kid never risks death. Men lie and destroy the women who birth their children, manage their household, protect their castle, rear their children....and it is all "licensed" and justified under the constructed institutions of marriage, oath-making, knighthood and principles of chastity, virginity, the different sub-meanings of "honor" for men vs women, etc. Men are themselves already objectifying or making an exclusive economic use of their female counterparts as well as going back on their vows (a deal that is still in feudal marriages, even for men) through their socially-allowed extramarital and premarital affairs producing bastards. *Therefore, if a noble woman (or any woman) cheats, it's simply not as amoral as when a man does--it's actually sometimes brave and admirable and a relief to see bc she is taking the risk for the sake of her own autonomy and/or happiness at the expense of a system/man who would exploit or have a consistent upper hand over her, for children he may not even like (Tyrion).*