#does a hobby on his free time and scares a politician or two

[sadlynotthevoid]

The way I picture og!Cale's character in his HeniRokSoo era is "ugh, dealing with jerks at work is so annoying. I want to quit", but also "if I spend more time than this doing nothing, I will die." "I need to do something at least 16 hours per day".

I feel like, if he actually quited or retired of his job, he would get other. Or come back after a week.

Kim Min Ah: Team Leader! What are you doing here?"

Cale!Rok Soo: I'm retiring from my retirement.

Some newbie: That's not what you're suppossed to— *gets taped*

Jung So Hoon: Shhh. Don't question it.

Do you remember that time hayao miyazaki retired? Well, something like that. Some people can't stand staying still because they get bored. (Not me, tho)

[thatringboy]

Can we have more twst headcanons on the students graduating? Maybe all of them? (Not the dorm leaders because you already did them)

FUCK YEAH LET’S GO!

These may be shorter than what y’all are used to because I’ve got 15+ students to do 

They’re under the cut because of how many they are and I don’t wanna take yo too much space lmao

Trey

My mans didn’t do much for graduation 

He said is goodbyes to his friends and left quickly

The first year after graduation he went to school to become a dentist

He managed to graduate quickly and moved in with Cater for a bit

Trey saved up some money to buy a building with an apartment in it and moved in there full time to set up his bakery 

He returned to NRC to pick up Riddle and he wasn’t expecting the “SEE YA FUCKERS” part

As I said in the last hc post, Trey and Riddle started a bakery together

It’s called “Clover’s Cakes”

Cater 

The first year after graduation he became a Magicam influencer

He vlogged about fashion, sports, living with Trey and other dangerous and thrilling things 

Cater won’t admit it but he hates living with Trey

Cater and Lilia got their band up and going and once they rescued Kalim from his wedding, Cater sold his house and went on the road full time

He may or may not be a stoner now

Deuce

After Trey graduated, Deuce became vice dorm head

His last two years at NRC were for the most part uneventful 

Graduation was very emotional for everyone involved

His mom picked him up from graduation and Deuce started to do odd jobs

He saved up enough money to rent out an auto shop and opened shop

He always made time to meet up with his old friends and classmates

Ruggie

He got some scrutiny from his dorm residents because he wasn’t “big enough” to run Savannaclaw 

Luckily he had Jack’s loyalty and beefiness

He was one of the last to leave his graduation because he and Leona had to haul a bunch of food

While Leona manned the physical side of their construction company/charity, Ruggie ran financials and public relations 

They often invite Cater and Kalim to preform for the people in the slums

And the band does it for free

Jack

Some rude students celebrated Jack becoming dorm head because “Ruggie wasn’t man enough to do the job”

Jack had put a no violence policy in place, but let’s say that being dorm head meant that he went around it sometimes 

He changed the dorm’s image to be a respectable and honorable dorm

After graduation he moved back home and became a pro snowboarder

He can be seen in a bunch of Cater’s vlogs when the band visits Pyroxene

He gives snowboarding lessons to little kids once a week

Jack still has his cacti

Jade

Jade followed Azul after graduation 

He managed almost all of the underwater restaurants while Azul managed the above ground ones

Jade took some time off and took a course in psychology 

He didn’t really need it seeing that his time working in Octavinelle made him a master at monitoring body language

Jade returned to work and is now known to identify different situations by just surveying a room

Floyd

Yeah he didn’t like working after NRC

He loved graduation because of Riddle’s grand exit

But working in a restaurant didn’t give him the same thrill as squeezing scared high schoolers 

Floyd quit working and moved above water to become a dancer

His career took a bit to get off the ground

He ended up signing on with the band to work with them

Jamil

It’s the same as Kalim’s story

But with a lot more annoyance 

He knew the wedding rescue was gonna happen but he didn’t know that he was gonna get swept up in it

Jamil took it in stride and is now the manager of the band

He was the choreographer for a bit too until Floyd joined

Purple Haired Scarabia NPC

My mans

He became a politician after running Scarabia

He is the face of equality and freedom for all

We stan a king 👑 

Rook

Oh boy

He went on to purchase land and start a game reserve

He invites the guys out there a lot

Vil couldn’t be bothered to go but Epel loves it 

Rook doesn’t believe in other haircuts dear god help him 

Epel

Dorm head for two years in a row? Heck yeah 

He focuses a lot on fitness and playing Magift 

After graduation he joins a pro Magift team and is now a sports icon

Epel likes to rub it in Vil’s face a lot

Ortho

He also enjoys running Ignihyde 

After graduation he joined Idia in his “mission” to invent better technology that helps improve magic

Ortho also notices Idia’s obsession hobby about magic mirrors but doesn’t comment on it much

He basically is just Idia’s assistant

Lilia 

He returns with Malleus to the Valley of Thorns and helps him transition into becoming king 

His time at NRC was extremely short compared to his 500+ years of age, but he enjoyed every moment

He kept in contact with Sebek and mentored him until the band rescued Kalim

After that Lilia goes back and fourth between collaborating with the band and serving Malleus

He’s a proud dad of his two boys

Silver

Unlike Ruggie, Silver didn’t receive scrutiny for not being the ideal dorm head 

He supposed that being close to Malleus had something to do with it 

After Riddle ran out of graduation, Silver was crowned Prince of the Valley of Thorns in front of the student body

Silver returned to the Valley of Thorns and lived there as a guard

He doesn’t expect to ever become king because of Malleus’ long life span

But the look on Sebek’s face when Silver was appointed a royal status will be one to cherish forever

Sebek

Oh poor boy

Silver becoming prince, Lilia running off to join a band and Malleus just not needing guards hit him all at once

But Sebek bounced back

He took his time as dorm leader to do some soul searching 

Sebek still became a guard for Malleus

And he ended up writing a book about his adventures at NRC

The book became so popular that he often got his old friends together and they helped him write more books

Malleus appointed Sebek “Keeper of the Fairy King’s Library”

Grim 

My guy is famous for a lot of things

Being the first monster student at NRC, being the first monster to join a Magift team, starting his own dorm etc

He missed Yuu Prefect deeply but never really opened up about it 

After playing Magift professionally for a few years, Grim returned to NRC and ended up teaching his own course named “Magical Studies 101″

The class is mostly for first years who don’t know their Unique Magic and other students who want to study pure magic and its origins 

Despite Grim’s attitude while attending NRC, he was named Teacher Of the Year twice in a row

I didn’t leave Ace’s after-graduation life out on accident. I don’t have any hcs for what he does after he graduates because I don’t hc Ace graduating. I’m working on a short story about what that means and it should be out later this week or early next week. 

I really hope you all enjoyed this list!

[creepypocky]

Hey, I hope you‘re doing good!

I‘d like to ask for a romantic matchup please, if it’s not causing you any stress!

General stuff:

- for MBTI: always either ENFJ or ENTJ

- Gemini sun, but it’s in a constant war with my Scorpio moon and Sagittarius ascendant

- I‘m Demi-pansexual, but with slight preference in men

Physical stuff:

- around 5‘7 tall

- rather athletic build already , but want to get even more lean and gain muscle

- brown eyes with naturally long and dark eyelashes

- dark-blonde hair

- some rather noticeable scars on my thighs/upper body (I did a lot of bullshit as a kid)

Hobbies:

- I‘m big on philosophy, politics and economics. I can talk about that stuff for hours

- climbing, yoga and karate

- drawing, both digitally and traditionally

- Reading (pretty much every genre) and writing

- learning languages, currently french

- cooking and baking

- programming/hacking (still a beginner on this one though)

Values:

- FREEDOM. I can’t have anyone take that one away. As soon as I start to feel like someone is making themselves dependent on me, I subconsciously back up, at least if I don’t know them really well. And jealousy? I want to trust my partner and I want them to trust me. The same applies to supporting each other. I‘ll always have their back, no questions asked abs expect them to act the same

- Love. I want to make the people around me feel cherished. I want them to be able to be whoever they want to be. And I‘ll help them the best I can whenever they need it. And the best thing? Everyone is worthy of it. Most people just want to be understood, to be seen - and you can do that with love.

- success. I have certain goals that I want to reach. Some of them are already done. But I probably won’t ever run out. I‘m not the person who settles with the status quo, I want to reach maximum potential. And I won’t accept things or people that stop me from doing so. This does definitely not mean that I can’t be wrong - I certainly can be. And then I‘ll change my mind. I‘m not going to keep doing a mistake just for the principle.

Things I like:

- nature

- challenges

- exploring

- traveling

- animals

- talking to (new) people, also debating with them

- science (mainly biology, physics, medicine, psychology and A.I.-development)

Things I dislike:

- People who think they can’t be wrong and/or don’t care about facts and logic

- People with no passions

- People who are mean without any reason

Other:

- I‘m a switch and I have that mentality in all my relationships. Like, I hate Routine only - you just gotta switch things up sometimes. It’s all about the play fights for me

- I have both a rough and soft dominant side, of which the latter also shows as soon as I take care of people

- I‘ve got some issues with overworking myself. Also with aggression, but I‘m working on those

- I have Synesthesia, can see my emotions as colors

- also am hypermobile, which means that I can bend in really strange ways

- I would actually like to become a politician one day, as I want to make a change in the world

- am scared of being touched with a lot of people, but don’t let me fool you, I love cuddling and affection

- am not willing to get pregnant. Ever. Big no.

- own a ton of stuffed animals and will forever love and protect those

- can and will send you little drawn pictures of cute animals made by me with sentences like „Sleepy boi hopes you dream of something beautiful tonight“ on those

Thank you for reading through all this, I hope it wasn’t too much!

Have a great day/night ^^

Hiii, <3

I am doing well, thank you. <3 I hope you are doing well too.

|| I match you with: Hoodie! ||

I have so much to say, omg. But I love the information you gave me so thank you.

First of all, he admires your personality and ideals SO MUCH! He thinks you’re so strong and you being passionate about those things really drew him in to you.

He thinks you look really cool with a muscular build, he will constantly work out with you and give you tips on how to get stronger and more defined muscles. He’s a bit of a workout enthusiast so he knows a lot about how it works. If you ever feel comfortable with it, he’d listen to you talk about your childhood and how you got all your scars because he loves learning about you.

Our boy hoodie is quiet. Actually no, that’s a huge understatement. He’s the most silent man you’ll ever meet, but despite this, he also loves the topic of politics and debating. He’s not shy, so when the two of you get together he will most definitely love to debate with you on politics and philosophy. Some of his beliefs are, questionable, to say the least. But he loves debating with you regardless because it’s super fun for him, and he rarely gets to just let himself speak his mind and have fun with someone like that.

He likes you watch you do art, and will ask you to draw stuff for him if he’s really interested, which he usually is. He thinks you’re super talented and admires you putting work into stuff like art. He likes reading as well and loves to just sit quietly with you and read a book, especially when it’s a warm night and it’s raining out. Please show him your writing, he likes reading so he will especially love whatever you write and will give you constructive criticism on it.

He’s not fluent in many languages besides English, so he would probably really appreciate it if you ever taught him another language and helped him understand because even though he’s kind of too lost to learn he will still appreciate you for your time.

Hoodie is also really passionate about freedom, and there’s a reason for it. Working under Slender as a proxy is one of the most difficult jobs imaginable, and at times he feels like he doesn’t belong to his own body anymore. When he’s able to have free time he lives in the moment because he knows that Slender can take away all of his freedom at any time if he felt like it. Hoodie isn’t a really jealous guy unless someone provokes him and he trusts you, so you don’t have to worry much about him being distrusting of you or too jealous.

He most definitely understands wanting others to feel loved and completely understands wanting to feel loved. Almost his whole life he’s felt insignificant and unworthy of love, especially since he became a proxy because he knows what he’s doing as a job is horrible but he does it anyway. Ultimately though, being with you makes him feel loved constantly and you give him so much life outside of his empty shell that he used to wallow in.

He admires your passion for success immensely, and you inspire him so much to become better as a person and better at his job. Even though he knows his job is fucked up, he still believes in Slendermans cause and wants to do his best at his job to fulfill the prophecy that’s given to him.

He loves nature as well, he basically breathes to just walk in the forest with you and take in the air. He likes challenges too because he finds it boring if he just wins at everything, he wants people to question him and give him reasons to work hard to beat them in a debate or beat them physically. He doesn’t know a lot about science admittedly but he would love you explaining science to him.

He definitely understands wanting to switch things up, he can be a bit of a dominate in a relationship but when he’s having a bad day or he’s not feeling it he loves it when you just take care of him and make him feel valid. He also loves you challenging him to be the dom of the relationship and lead him, and he’ll basically fight you for it if he feels like it.

If you’re ever overworking yourself, don’t worry, he definitely knows how it feels. He’ll give you advice on how to better pace yourself and still let yourself get stuff done, because he doesn’t want you to be too stressed out.

At first when he saw you bending in weird ways, he was pretty indifferent about it. After all, he works under an extremely tall faceless man and works with people that aren’t even human. But, he still thinks it’s pretty cool that you can do that and enjoys watching you bend in weird ways.

He also does not want kids. Too much stress. He’ll definitely get you all the stuffed animals you want if it means he gets to see your smile.

~~~

I hope you liked this matchup. <3 Have an amazing day/night and take care of yourself! :)

[gltrngold-a]

—  ♥　♡　♥　THE LEADER   ♥　♡　♥  —

｢ james mcavoy. thirty-seven. male. he/him. ｣ welcome to cerulean pier, home of many mythological beings. did you know that our resident CAMDEN MCALISTER is the child of HERMES? they don’t, maybe that’s why they’re known as the LEADER around town. they are DEPENDABLE & HUMOROUS, but also CYNICAL & PRAGMATIC. they are also currently THE MAYOR OF CERULEAN PIER. don’t say anything, but they are hiding THAT HE HAS AN ILLEGITIMATE CHILD. ｢ shannon, 20, she/her, bst. ｣  

—  ♥　♡　♥　basics  ♥　♡　♥  —

name: camden leith mcalister age: thirty-seven birthdate: 10th february, 1983 — paisley, scotland zodiac ( sun ) sign: aquarius orientations: demi-pansexual, demi-panromantic relationship status: single label: the leader occupation: mayor of cerulean pier

faceclaim: james mcavoy height: 5 ft 7 in

—  ♥　♡　♥　personality  ♥　♡　♥  —

mbti: isfj-a hogwarts house: slytherin temperament: choleric theme song: broken crown by mumford & sons.

hobbies: he doesn’t really have time because he dedicates himself to his work. but he enjoys bowling and supporting his friends

—  ♥　♡　♥　favourites  ♥　♡　♥  —

songs:

pour some sugar on me by def leppard here i go again by whitesnake ruby by the kaiser chiefs

television series:

borgen (2010-2013, 2022-) house of cards (2013-2018) marseille (2016-2018)

books:

the prince (machiavelli, 1532) why we get the wrong politicians (isabel hardman, 2018) it’s not okay to feel blue and other lies (scarlett curtis, 2019)

films:

men in black (1997) men in black ii (2002) top gun (1986)

—  ♥　♡　♥　summary   ♥　♡　♥  —

meet camden mcalister: accidental genius, mayor of cerulean pier, ceremonial chancellor of the university, and former senior lecturer in its department of government.

he’s a likeable dude. doesn’t take himself too seriously, has time to spend around others. he leans toward introversion but you’ll happily see him having one down the pub once in a while. it’s the privilege of caretaking for a pretty small place.

and he’s fucking funny. he’s a riot to be around, he’s got pretty eyes, and he’ll help you if you say ‘please.’ what more do you want out of a dude

will fight for his friends. if you compliment him he’ll rub the back of his neck, blush, and tell you to stop it. it’s just really cute please love him.

men in black superfan. if he ever meets tommy lee jones, he’s going to cry.

he managed to do three years in one at school, and entered university at sixteen. this is how he got to be a senior lecturer so young, though he never liked the word ‘senior.’

camden is a dad. you can tell camden is a dad, even though he’s often not great at actually being one. there’s no malice in it — he’s really trying — but family and career are just at loggerheads sometimes

you can tell he’s british, too. he’s got the oft-misunderstood, cynical humour. 

and he’s cynical in general. he thinks everyone’s in it for themselves, that there’s so much about the world that’s just... shitty, but it’s what motivates him to change it. but without starry-eyed idealism, if that makes any sense. 

he sees things as they are and tries to stay grounded because the world’s just not as simple as people like to think it is. however, i will emphasise that mr. mcalister is a socialist king. there will be public healthcare in his town one day! pride is whenever you like not just one month a year! let’s get some good public transportation, free tertiary education, and eradicate all forms of discrimination <3

he’s not in it for himself. at least, not mostly. yes, he’d like to go for a political position that’s more influential eventually, but he does honestly want to help other people, and he thinks the false faces people wear in politics are disgusting outright. he’s gonna be himself, and if you like him, great. 

if you don’t, well he looks at how he can be better without sacrificing what he believes in! support is earned people!

lean on him when you’re not strong! he’ll be your friend and help you carry on!

he loves his kid SO MUCH he’s just... scared his teenage mistake is gonna cost him a further life in politics and it comes out wrong y’know

—  ♥　♡　♥　wanted connections   ♥　♡　♥  —

his child — nineteen or twenty, and could be with a god, but might not be. there’s a lot of regret between them, i think. we could go more into detail through plotting if you decide you want to pick this up! 

protegé — someone interested in politics that camden can just... nurture, and who could be a source of bitterness for his child because he spends more time with them than he does with them.

bowling buddy — someone who likes to challenge camden to a game or two, especially when they think he’s working too hard.

[strewnlimbs-blog]

www.InkIt&SinkIt.com

@lin-rinku​ Alright, I’ve finished one drabble request. This is your Soulmates and Online Dating, hope you have fun! When Ink It & Sink It went online at first many thought it to be an extreme invasion of privacy. People were paid money based on either the amount of common, unique soulmate markings they found, or they were paid larger sums for more desired celebrities. Politicians, actors, the wealthy, anyone who normally didn’t display their marks to anyone.

Now, the website was a more welcomed relief to many who browsed the hundreds of thousands of photos daily to try and find themselves on someone’s arm.

Many things could be found in the ink-like markings that stained people’s skin. Preferred patterns, interests, hobbies, favorite shapes, anything related to who the individual was meant to be with. It was a seemingly unnatural event that began before anyone could remember. Since there had been people… there were markings. It was discovered in the last 50 years that humans had an octopus-like, muscular pigment reaction they had little control over. What linked them, and what caused them to produce patterns like they did in one main area was still a mystery.

All markings had stages to inform their wearers just how close, far, or bonded with their soulmates they were.

So when Oswald noticed one evening his simple inner forearm markings had wrapped around his forearm completely, all in a smokey grey, he was horrified. He’d met his soulmate that day at some point, but because of his suit and layers he’d never noticed when it was that the sides and back of his forearm became littered in precise stains.

It started out with a small set of question marks on his inner wrist, four of them in total with two upwards and two upside-down, one after the other. He was as confused as the markings were and 19 at the time. That was the time his soulmate was somewhere in his city.

After that, the closest he’d ever gone to his soulmate was between 7 to 12 blocks away when odd pixel characters and what might have been spacecraft appeared up his forearm with several more question marks. His markings were a mess of splayed interests.

Now though, now he had markings wrapped around his forearm entirely, different angular patterns and something that looked like a kind of science or math thing. To be honest, it was far beyond his wheelhouse.

Whoever was his supposed soulmate was probably some lanky, young, 20-something that played games all day. Anything from couriers to informants could be his soulmate… luckily, it was decidedly someone new. And if they were his soulmate then he’d end up loving them no matter what they looked like… It was all some sort of trap, he hated it.

He had a criminal underground to run.

He had no time for these games.

Unfortunately for Oswald, his curiosity was a downfall.

If his soulmate was the kind of social outcast he expected them to be, he knew they’d post their markings online in order to find their match. It was going to be all too easy to find himself in their desperation. And when he knew what they looked like, he could officially reject them in his mind and move on. He bet he’d hate them. His markings wouldn’t darken at all because he didn’t care.

And he never would.

Four days later and still nothing in the new postings looked like him.

How could someone not want to find him? Him! Of all people! He was powerful, wealthy, influential, handsome, why wouldn’t someone post their markings if not to at least brag to the public about who they matched with.

Unless…

Unless they were dead.

Unless something happened to his soulmate that was beyond their control and they hadn’t been able to post about him. That had to have been it. Otherwise someone should have been knocking on his door.

For the time being, Oswald had been covering his markings with different foundations and concealers, attempting to have his markings stay hidden. Even if his sleeve rolled up, if he shook hands, or raised his arms. He didn’t want a peek of his markings getting out.

He’d shove them in his soulmate’s face first and demand to know who they were and why he shouldn’t kill them on the spot. That would leave an impression that hopefully would run them off.

Oswald would be able to live his life burden free once more. And maybe if he got them scared of him or hating him then perhaps he could get the markings to fade to nothing? It was worth a shot.

Markings could change, in very rare cases, but he was a rare kind of person. He could have nature itself bend the rules for him just this once.

The next three days were spent with Oswald’s soulmate in mind, taking stops to the same places he went the day his markings expanded his arm, but either no one showed the markings or he didn’t want to ask strangers who had him for fear of what he might find.

Well.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

That night, one week from the day that his markings expanded, he took a picture of his freshly washed markings, posting them online anonymously. He kept his name and status as far away from the site as he could, trying to be the regular Joe Blow trying to find his match.

Within two hours, he had a message to a dummy email account he made mentioning someone was sending him a private connection through the site. Not to seem too excited, he let it sit for a couple hours, checking the message he got before he went to bed.

‘Hi. I am reasonably sure, beyond a doubt in fact, that you have me on your arm. And if this looks like you, I believe we are matched.’

It was mostly to the point, the message coming with an attached picture of what was seemingly a lean forearm, a sweater pushed up to the elbow, hand appearing long with the thin fingers spread.

Along the skin were soft grey lines, some standing on their own and others thatched together. What looked to be rubber-stamp styled penguins occupied his arm, though there were only two. One larger and one smaller. Along with it an umbrella that looked suspiciously like the ones he had embroidered on his shirt cuffs. What appeared to be musical bars across the man’s inner wrist and bands of lace taking up filler areas.

He had seen faked markings before, ones meant to be for him. Usually incorporating murder, crime, some sort of knife display. Those were what people saw, these… no one would associate him with lace.

He never touched it, never had it around in public eye. Even in his manor, there was no lace in sight. And he knew the pattern on the forearm in the picture. That was from the one thing of his mother’s that he refused to get rid of after her death. A lace shawl she wore on breezy summer days.

Something never connected to him, but he loved it.

That was too personal for this to be fake.

‘I would say that, yes, that does look remarkably like what I’d identify with. Who are you?’

‘If you don’t mind I’d like to remain nameless for now. I know who you are though, Mr. Penguin. And I’m keeping things secret for… security reasons.’

Security reasons?

‘What is so important that you can’t tell me who you are?’

‘I might be… in some way, connected to something involving you and I don’t want to get too close just yet. Soon, I promise! Give me another week?’

‘I don’t seem to have much choice until then, do I?’

‘I’m afraid not. I have to go, busy day ahead of me tomorrow, but… could we talk again?’

‘It seems that we’re destined to, so I imagine I can make time.’

‘Wonderful! Okay, we will exchange pleasantries then. Goodnight, Mr. Penguin.’

Oswald didn’t bother to return the sentiment, leaving his computer with a confused scowl. This was ridiculous, he was acting so inappropriately for his position. Here was some, likely, civilian at his doorstep, claiming to be his partner and he was in no place to be taking some bright-eyed Gothamite into his realm of underground activity.

And still, the next night, he sat in waiting at his computer. His anticipation was through the roof for when the other would message him again. When the ding went off, he couldn’t help but scramble for the mouse, nearly knocking over a glass of whiskey close by himself.

‘How was your day, Mr. Penguin?’

How was his day…? How was his day? This person was honestly asking how his day was?

‘Are you sure you’re allowed to answer that without getting too close?’

‘...’ ‘Just how much criminal activity is in your day that you can’t answer how it went?’

‘I can guarantee my day was full of much less criminal activity than one might believe.’ ‘It went well, this is my first chance to relax today so I’m taking advantage of it.’

‘Sounds like you try to run a tight ship.’

‘Oh, I do. There is little room for error in my business.’

What did he do? Was he giving preferential treatment because he knew? Was he approaching this differently than he would with another because of the markings?

Who was he kidding, of course he was. This was the natural reaction, he was going to be taken in by the thought, the romance of finding a partner. Drat… No problem. He was aware of what he was doing and why, he could curb that behavior quickly.

‘Thank you for asking, few people do. How was your day?’

Damn it.

‘Trust me, I know how you feel. And you’re welcome, it’s the little things that can make a difference. :)’ ‘My day was full, I can’t speak too much about it. Criminal activity and all. What I can say though, is that I find it fascinating how many ways you can crack a human skull with something as small as the right force and a quarter.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You’d be surprised the kind of damage simple pocket change can do in the right hands. Or in a crack in flooring or a sidewalk. Very few times is it lethal though. People can have things impaled in their brain and still function as they had or with only minor impairment.’

‘Is this the kind of conversation you always hold with new partners?’

‘I must say, it depends on the time of year. From late spring to early fall there is quite the boost in tourism in Gotham, and anything from gift shops to street vendors become so much more common. Even little things like Scout cookies. It produces a lot of opportunity for pocket change, and that gets a brain thinking.’

Oswald leaned back in his chair, seeing how the other didn’t seem to understand that a regular person wouldn’t begin a conversation like that. Let alone carry on with it when it was pointed out. He was… defending that this was his topic of focus?

‘What can I call you?’

‘Mr. E.’

Mr. E. Mister E. Mistery. Mystery…

Damn it.

‘I am not calling you Mr. E. That is to say that you’re a mystery and I refuse to walk into that word play.’

‘That disappoints me a little, but unsurprising. You can call me Ed.’

There a name. Even made up, he could work with that and not a stupid alias. And especially not an even more stupid name like a super villain from 1953.

‘Well, Ed… Tell me all that you can about cracking a human skull with pocket change.’

To Oswald’s surprise, the Ed he was talking to had a surprising amount of ways to maim a man with a nickel. Ed had a lot of anatomical knowledge in general, or just general knowledge, he seemed to be well read.

Well read. Smart. Criminal activity…

Either he was someone’s informant, accountant, specialized torturer, something like what he had with Mr. Penn or the Dentist respectively. Or he was one odd civilian. It could really go either way. The night though, was overall enjoyable, Oswald staying up until Ed had to part himself from the chat, heading to bed in order to sleep before work several hours later.

Ed told him about how to browse the mobile site, where to go for messages and how it worked. Ed also seemed to be quite technically capable.

Oswald didn’t expect half way through his day in the morning to get a picture of a cadaver with several pieces of long grass sticking out from wounds he had. He looked like a bruised and broken mess. Even from only the waist up.

‘A dead man is found in the middle of a field, no footprints on scene. He had an unopened package with him. How did he die?’

A question? A scenario? A… riddle?

Oswald set his phone back down, focusing on the meeting he was in with several other men large in the Gotham underground. They were all sat around a circular table in a restaurant Downtown, business nearly concluded with the more frequent personal stories that were being shared.

Where would Ed have gotten a body? That didn’t look like an average picture on the internet, that looked like an actual picture. One he took on his own phone and sent. When business was finished, Oswald took out his phone, typing a message and claiming it to be to a lackey.

‘Ed. Is that an actual body?’

He had to wait, but eventually a reply came eight minutes later.

‘...’ ‘No?’

‘Don’t lie to me, I know what a body looks like, Ed. Where did you find that?’

‘Do you give up on the riddle?’

So it was a riddle.

‘I don’t know. Fell?’

‘In a field?’

‘I don’t know what buildings are in a field, I’m not a farmer. Are there tire treads?’

‘What?’

‘Tire treads. Did someone kill him for his package and dumped him from a vehicle?’

‘No… Do you give up?’

‘Then I don’t know. A plane? Helicopter? Some flying device? He fell from one of those.’

‘You are close! Parachuting incident. His parachute didn’t open and he hit the ground. Quite the brain teaser, don’t you think? :)’ ‘Also, I borrowed the body from work. I’ve waited some time for the right one to come in for this, though this foliage isn’t correct for a field crop… I assumed that this was the closest I’d be able to find naturally.’

Ed was… so, so odd. He borrowed a body? Where did one borrow a body? Was this a service he could buy in on?

Sometimes one needed a body.

‘Naturally? You were willing to stage a body with leaves from a field crop to be able to fulfill your visual for your riddle?’

‘Well… yes. Accuracy is key in most riddle descriptions so it can be solved.’

It seemed so obvious to Ed, of course that’s how things worked. Why would you not go for 100% authenticity? Why not have a body on hand in order to fully express one’s wishes? And use a corpse to ask a riddle, of all things…? He was an oddball.

Intriguing though.

“Penguin? Penguin, what’s your take on this?”

Oswald was taken back to reality by one of the large men asking him a question to something he knew Oswald hadn’t heard. The smallest of the group rolled his eyes with annoyance, tossing a hand up to give a dramatic, unsure gesture. “Have you tried strangling?”

“For… the dinner my mother-in-law insists on?”

“If she’s rowdy it might help calm her briefly. I don’t judge the methods if the results bring the desired outcome.”

‘How was your day?’

‘After your… interesting afternoon surprise, uneventful. A party to attend in a few days’ time. Nothing extravagant, a birthday gathering. And yours?’

‘My coworker did not understand my riddle setup like you had.’

‘Whaaat? ...Now, how could that be?’

Why would anyone understand that completely? It made sense why someone would question that, even in his line of work. Though different questions, there’d be questions.

‘I don’t get it either, I thought I made it quite clear. ...Maybe I need to be more obvious? Maybe I need a new approach?’

‘Maybe you need to think twice before you try to use a corpse as a quiz towards everyday citizens that don’t understand a morbid twist on an interesting game?’

‘You thought it was interesting?’

‘It was at the very least… a surprise. Intriguing. It certainly spiced up my lunch meeting.’

There was an awkwardly long pause, Oswald staring at his screen for over ten minutes before a reply came back. Whatever the pause was for, he supposed he could wait, but he had other things he could be attending to. Ed was just… a special case.

He was doing it again…

‘We can’t yet, but when possible… Would you be interested in meeting for coffee or tea somewhere? There’s a cafe Downtown that boast they have the most comfortable chairs and it plays live lounge jazz on Wednesday afternoons. They’re actually quite good.’

Oswald leaned back in his seat, thinking of the offer. Who knew when that thing would be finished. It could be weeks from then. Special treatment or not… it had been some time since he went out casually. And if Ed didn’t want anything from him it would be a rare occasion to not deal with grubby hands trying to pry his money or power from him. Hm.

‘I will have one of my men accompany me, as you may understand, but he will be by an exit. Overall, it sounds agreeable.’

‘You’ll go? Oh. Okay, then yes, your man should have no issue finding a space for himself to watch, I… Good! I hope we finish this soon!’

‘I hope you do not disappoint me. I look forward to this, Ed.’

Oswald, covered in layers still, unable to witness the slightly darker shade his markings took, the two forming a connection over the anticipated meetup. He wouldn’t notice until he got prepared for bed, taking off his suit and shirt to see the darkened stain more obviously on his pale skin.

Drat…

Although they had just over a week to wait, the messages continued each night. The amount depending on when Oswald finished his business for the day and when Ed had to pack it up for sleep. Still, they exchanged words regardless of the amount.

They made plans to meet using one of the mystery man’s days off in order to have time on the appropriate day to hear the music play that Ed suggested. Oswald still didn’t know what it was Ed exactly did, but somehow he could be involved at this point.

He had ideas of what the other did, but no confirmation.

Oswald waited in the cafe on one of the seats, that truly was as comfortable as advertised, one of his men sitting in the corner with a paper in his hands to blend in better. The underground boss checked his watch, having arrived early to be polite, but even as the time ticked to their agreed upon meeting hour… no one approached him. He still didn’t know what Ed looked like in order to pick him out of the crowd, but Ed knew who he was. Mr. Penguin. He was waiting for anyone to call him such.

As ten minutes ticked by, he wanted to be upset, though a glance to his phone and the site had confirmed Ed sent a warning he’d be late. For what reason, he didn’t specify, but that he’d be late. It was proper warning before they were to meet so… he supposed he could let that slide.

Twenty three minutes late, but truly who was counting, the door was pushed open by a man with an armload of items. He seemed to struggle somewhat between his balancing act and the door, but managed to slide his way into the cafe with only slight troubles. Oswald ignored the noises, sat back to the door as he didn’t need to be anxiously staring at every person that walked in.

Footsteps by his chair, however, got his attention. Oswald’s eyes stealing a glance from as far as they could see without him moving his head, noting the well polished, well worn, brown leather shoes that stopped next to his chair.

“Mr. Penguin?”

The name drew Oswald’s attention upwards, following long legs covered by reasonable khakis. A working class set of pants. Eventually the pants were covered at the waist by a faded, green sweater over a white dress shirt, black tie barely peeking over the collar of the sweater. He was tall. Not outrageously thin, but he was slender and tall. In one arm he must have held four or five boxes. Long fingers clasped around several objects to help steady them against his chest.

A long neck attached to a square jaw, cheekbones that could cut glass, large glasses that fit his face well. Brown, chestnut hair parted off center and combed into place with what looked to be extreme care and precision. Hmm.

“Ed?”

The tall man lit up with a smile, trying to extend a hand to shake, but nearly dropped his payload on the floor. He smiled with some embarrassment, instead putting everything on the table in front of Oswald’s seat and sat across from the crime lord. “Uh… Hi! I’m Edward. Edward Nygma.” He offered his hand with much more success now, somewhat out of breath, though glowed with an ease and cheer that Oswald couldn’t deny was pleasant to see.

Not infectious, but pleasing.

Oswald met the handshake, never minding a formal introduction. “Oswald Cobblepot, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face, Ed.” He took in the table with curiosity, raising a brow before his attention returned to the man across from him. “So what is all this?”

“These are… well they are meant to be for you, but… I wasn’t sure what to get. And then I thought about it, and decided against one thing for another, but I didn’t have time to go back to the apartment and get rid of the first thing. So then I carried two, but then came across something else, and…” Ed gestured to the table with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to be more late, so I took them all with me.”

Oswald snickered with some amusement, leaning forward in his chair with elbows resting on his thighs. “Well, let’s see what you brought. Display it all.”

Two different bouquets, a teddy bear, and a knife later, but Oswald had to say that he was relatively surprised by the gesture. Normally that was not something someone tried to do for him. Though he didn’t need any of it, he could at least show appreciation for the effort.

The meetup went as well for a first physical meeting, both men having at least two cups of tea while they were in the cafe. They spoke vaguely of life, Oswald unable to describe of many things he actually did, but Ed still listened carefully. He asked questions, but took them back if he wasn’t able to find out about the answer.

The two took in Edward’s markings, the man allowing Oswald to look at every detail of it in person, though the stain was reaching a stage of dark grey, surprising both men at its color. It made Oswald peek under his sleeve, his slightly lighter, but it too was darker than that morning.

Oswald kept his markings hidden, not wanting to have them exposed at all in public. He didn’t want anyone else catching an eye and snapping pictures, relating him to the post already made online. And Ed understood that, the two continuing conversation until Oswald had to leave.

The man reading the paper in the corner walked over, collecting what Ed had brought to take to the car parked outside, leaving the two alone to say their parting words.

“Well, Edward, this was surprisingly positive.” Oswald spoke, standing up from his chair and supporting himself with his cane. “You’ve changed my perspective on these… connections.” He described as he raised his marked arm, twisting it under his visual judgement, staring hard at his sleeve covered limb.

“I’m glad it turned out as it has.” Edward returned the sentiment, standing as well with his hands joined in front of himself. “Should we… do this again at a future date?”

Oswald nodded, walking away from his chair. “We should.” He agreed, getting halfway to the door with his guard coming back to walk him from the building to the vehicle. “Only next time, Edward… Don’t be late.”

[tanadidreamer]

Tib, Jax, and your version of Tarre? Pretty please?

Hmm….will do! Here are the Vizsla boys!

Tib:

Tib is a very protective uncle and father , to the extent he actully helped Rau and Xan escape when Pre Vizsla had caught them and simply lied to Pre about being overpowered.

Tib is colorblind.

Tib was born in 56 BBY.

Compared to  his elder brothers, he’s the politician of the family. As well as the most relaxed and playful sibling.

He is married to his former second-in-command,  with three adopted children. His only son is a Trandoshan while his eldest daughter is a Kiffar and his youngest daughter is a Togruta.

Tib’s favorite hobby is actually pestering Jax, since he’d only been roughly two-years-old when Jax was exiled, so he’s making up for lost time.

During his time on Carlac, Tiberius had been the most outspoken about the enslavement of the Ming Po women and had dedicated himself to guarding them, since he didn’t trust men like Gar Saxon to do so. His actions resulted in the Ming Po to welcome House Vizsla as both guardians and allies when Tiberius lead his people in a counterattack to free the Ming Po from Imperial occupation.

Tib is bisexual.

Tib is fluent in Mando’a, Concordian, Galactic Basic, Twi’leki, Huttese and Dosh.

Tib isn’t very fond of taking off his armor amongst strangers or in the presence of other House/clan leaders. He feels too exposed when he does so.

Jax:

Due to refusing to get a cybernetic eye, he has a blind side but his hearing is still very sharp on his left side. It comes from raising three children and training clone cadets, all of which were troublemkers.

Jax has had an on-and-off relationship with Rav Bralor for years, to the extent that his daughters and adopted son all consider her to be their mother since she helped raised them. And Parja affectionatey calls him ba’vodu. It’s a running joke that they’re married in every way but vows.

By the Battle of Yavin, Jax had been the director of the Concordian Defense and Intelligence Ageency for five decades.

Jax was born in 72 BBY.

The reason as to why Jax doesn’t get along with Kal Skirata is due to a rather harsh comment about Jax having never actually being exiled but working as a spy for his father.

Jax has a low-degree of Force-sensitivity, but never actually realized it nor has it ever been brought up by Edric or any other Jedi he’s met.

Jax was one of the few people to able to break through Walon Vau’s shell, resulting some weird friendship.

Jax adopted all of his cadets who managed to escape after Order 66, as well as Rav’s which results in the running joke. He loves being a father, and is actually surprisingly good at it.

Jax served as the chief of Clan Rau until Fenn was about sixteen, allowing his adopted son to assume the mantle. Jax’s title of the “Elder Lord of House Vizsla” is for formality only, as a way of showing that he was accepted back into House Vizsla but he still serves as an advisor for both Tiberius and his adopted son.

Jax is incredibly paranoid, which is born out of the type of childhood he had, the betrayal of his adopted uncle and of a close friend – which resulted in the deaths of people he loved dearly. Which results in his standoffish personality.

Tarre:

After Canderous Ordo became Mand’alor, Tarre took up the responsibility and his second-in-command and an ambassador to the Republic.

Tarre loves singing old Concordian and Mando’a lullabies, especially hen he’s scared or overwhelmed, it’s distracting and soothing to him.

Meetra Surik was the first person he actually opened up to about feeling like he was cursed and actually broke down about how lost he felt and being dar’manda, it just so happened that Revan as nearby when he did so.

As a result of the destruction of the Jedi Temple during the Sacking of Coruscant and his descendents wanting to deny any connection with the Jedi, they reimaged him as a Dark Jedi who was apprenticed to Darth Revan, which the story was passed down from generation to generation until all Mandalorians believed he was a Dark Jedi, and later Sith Lord. Thus, he became known as Mandalore the Forsaken, losing the title of Mandalore the Wise to somebody else.

In the aftermath of the Mandalorian Wars, the Jedi Council choose not to punish Tarre for his actions since he had been a mere Padawan and was elevated to the rank of Knight, much to his disgust. Meetra convinced him to stay, thus resulting in Tarre to take his former Master’s place when the Sith Lord attacked (I thank another anon for this one, I totally plan on writing about it at some point).

Tarre never liked being around Kreia, since he never appreciated the predictions about his future nor did he particularly like how the Force was when she was near him.

Tarre ended up becoming the Jedi Master of both of Revan’s grandchildren. As well as assisting Bastila in raising Vaner, and informally adopting him as Mandalorian since Revan had adopted Tarre as his own.

Canderous Ordo had been the one who guided Tarre through his verd’goten since Tarre was already an orphan and Canderous had been old friends with Tarre’s father.

Tarre was the one who founded the Senate Guard, as a result of trying to prevent assassintion attempts during Darth Revan’s invasion.

Tarre Vizsla is a direct ancestor of Tor Vizsla and Ursa Wren. As a result, usually those in his bloodline or Revan’s bloodline who were born with attunement or sensivity to the Force can see him, since he still keeps his promise to watch over those who need it.

[aprobableparadox]

With All Your Lies, You’re Still Very Lovable

There was a demon lurking at the local 711.

He stood in the chips aisle and considered a can of Pringles, his black eyes investigating the nutritional value lazily. The demon, who was in the mood for something salty tonight, couldn't decide between the original or the sour cream and onion. Indecisively, as most demons did things, he picked both and swaggered up to the cashier.

Anwar said the cashier's name tag. Anwar was much too exhausted and much too bored to mind that this stranger had black eyes, nor that he also wore a Sigil of Baphomet on a silver chain around his neck. For all Anwar knew, this kid was yet another example of the misguided American youth his wife was always going on about.

The demon, whose name was Azazel but liked to go by 'A' because most people pronounced it wrong (especially coffee places, especially Starbucks), complimented Anwar on his excellent hair and left. A car idled outside. The car happened to be a debilitated white Honda Civic and its driver appeared to be in just the same state of disrepair.

The driver's name was Daemon Adamos, and no he was not a demon. He did, however, make a bad habit of hanging out with unsavory people and getting into trouble, so A enjoyed his company. Daemon always looked as though he'd just awoken from a long sleep, and his personality suggested that it was everyone and everything that had shaken him awake.

A slumped into the car, held up the two Pringles cans for Daemon to choose from, and ceded the sour cream and onion can. The white Honda Civic pulled out of the parking lot with a ghastly cough, the radio sputtered on an obscure Remember-the-Eighties station. As Bon Jovi wailed about living on prayers (inadvisable, A believed, but he was biased), the demon stared out the window and thought about angels.

He'd been one once, you know. A very long time ago, when Mesopotamia was still around, and the concept of angels in the traditional sense hadn't been thought of yet. Then, as one tends to do when they've been doing nothing for a few thousand years, A got bored. And he Fell.

He remembered the wind slapping his face, the awful swooping sensation in his stomach, the way the ground loomed closer with every second. He could no longer fly, but it was the freest he'd ever felt. A hadn't even minded very much the scorching agony of having his wings torn off, or even the sensation of every bone in his body shattering the second he hit the ground.

He'd minded a little bit.

He has to admit: Though infinitely freeing and fun, being a demon does not come with as many perks as does being an angel. Namely the flying and the eternal beauty and the luxury, though there are many more. But A doesn't miss it, he would never miss it. He is in the firm belief that anybody who has experienced being both an angel and a demon in their lifetime would much prefer the latter. Mostly because all angels are old fashioned and stuck-up.

"A," says Daemon, and it comes out like a croak. "What are we doin' bout the pigeons?" Daemon liked to call angels 'pigeons' because he thought it was clever, and that pigeons were the most insulting kind of winged animal one could be termed.

A sucked on his teeth and shrugged––he didn't do plans, that was an angel thing. The whole point of demons, he'd once decided, was that they were random and chaotic and unorthodox. You couldn't go around planning things and also be a demon, that was . . . blasphemy. Or the demon version of blasphemy, anyway.

Daemon didn't enjoy A's spontaneity. "I'm not trying to get smited here, okay?" (A frowned here, unsure if his friend was using the right tense.)  "So if we had a plan, that'd be real great."

The problem they were having was this. A had gotten into trouble (as demons do) and Daemon had egged him on (as humans do), and they were both waiting for The Upstairs to send down some of its best and brightest to apprehend them. Angels had a tendency to intervene when demons did bad things on earth, and what they'd done was certainly the worst thing they'd accomplished so far.

Daemon was worried about this because he had a particular dislike for angels. More so than any other human A had ever encountered, and this was another reason he liked him so much. See, Daemon had once been a devout man and, much like his demonic friend, had experienced a change of heart. He figured that this alone was grounds enough to end up a place worse than Hell after he died. So he wasn't planning on dying any time soon.

"Try not to think about it," A said wisely. It was relatively good advice––people tend to get nervous and make mistakes when they're thinking about spending an eternity in the fieriest circle of Hell. "If we're lucky, they'll send the old man again." The 'old man' in question was truthfully a few decades younger than A, but he also had the hobbies and the mannerisms of a very boring and very uptight human elder.

It was right about then that Daemon began wondering why, again, he hung out with A. It wasn't the corrupting politicians for fun (although that was entertaining) or even the wild parties with various rap artists (most of them were bound for Heaven, surprisingly).  He supposed that it might be because Daemon was reckless and hungry for adventure, and so was A. But it was hard to reconcile his friendship with him when he was staring death in the face for the third time this month.

"You would think they'd've learned their lesson, sending him. All-powerful, omniscient creatures and all that. They could've killed us by now, maybe they just don't want us dead." He said this last past with a desperate air of hopefulness. A was about to retort that he was also all-powerful and omniscient (ok maybe not that) thank you very much and that he was certainly powerful enough to evade a couple of feathery nuisances. He would've said all this if a girl hadn't miraculously appeared in the backseat.

They had not sent the old man.

Daemon, a human, was quite susceptible to scares, and a little girl abruptly appearing in the backseat of his car was one of these frights. A quick glance in the rearview mirror set him off and, swearing loudly, he slammed on the breaks so violently A flew forward and hit his head on the windshield.

The girl looked to be about ten, but she was actually older. A lot older. And, much to A's dismay, a lot more powerful than himself. A swore too, and used a much worse and more satisfying word than Daemon had to do so.

There was an awkward pause in which nobody in the car said anything although it was clear that all present wanted very much to do so.

"Azazel," the little girl said in a tired voice. She said his name the same way one might say 'what now'. A despised it.

"Ah, hello. Long time no see," A sneered in a manner that said everything about how he felt about her presence. The girl looked upon the demon with a stare that was full of the deepest disapproval and scorn, like a pet owner might to a misbehaving dog. This made A so angry that he had to turn around in his seat and look at his friend instead.

Daemon had finished getting his heart rate under control and was now gaping at the girl. The human's reaction embarrassed A, he hated when Daemon acted as though he'd never seen a divine being before. He couldn't be seen with an amateur. Luckily, Daemon was distracted by the irritated honking coming from the car behind him.

"Azazel," the girl said again, "what are you hoping to achieve from this? Truly?" Her demeanor betrayed her true nature, A thought savagely. She was the most vicious and blindly loyal angel he'd had the misfortune of knowing. She wouldn't hesitate to vaporize him if given a reason. In Hell she'd be called an 'insidious murderer', in Heaven, she was dubbed a 'loyal soldier of the Lord'.

"Fulfillment? Purpose? A good time?" A laughed. Angels always were so black and white, they always needed a plain and simple answer for everything. "Do I even need a reason?" He knew what she thought of him. He tried not to mind, and failed.

Daemon, who had wisely decided to relocate the white Honda Civic out of the middle of the road, looked pained. He had come into contact with this particular angel only once before, and after all was said and done he'd spent a few weeks in the hospital and changed addresses.

"You used to be worth more than this, Azazel," said the little girl, and A hated her. He loathed the sureness in this statement, as though the girl knew with absolute certainty that everything she said was true. "And I am afraid that you're going too far."

"Too far?" Was what A snarled, the edges of a laugh hidden in the snarl. "Too far was when I Fell, Ariel."

[dwestfieldblog]

DARK MEDITATIONS ON MAY 35TH

(4th June)

David Westfield presents The Disconnection. A monthly seminar:-)

World news and basic facts, tapped from the universal mind, but first a message from the Akashic Record....Down to the burning wire once again, veering from one extreme to the other does not count as balance. The captain of your relationship with Non Self. Voices in choral sequence pulling you out of body. Unable to process information while focusing on it. Distance is depth. Does this path have a heart? Distract the mind elsewhere, throw a question backwards and think of something other. The answer appears, looking for a sign...it says No Road Ahead. Dead End... and another pathway opens as soon as you accept this.  Dream until you awaken, dream until it is real, the circle opens out...  

At that point you realise that that which you are truly summoning is another aspect of your own energy. You truly leave spirit prints in other realms. Thought, projected with an aim or not, is stored and takes on it's own life. Formless contact and contacted form, acknowledge all your sides. Trust me, I'm an idiot. Having fun spotting the fnords...Did you make it through those two paragraphs?  

Due to finances seemingly out of my control (useless magician) I have put an almost temporary halt to the new double cd. And many other things. We shall see whether abstinence makes for a better clarity of visualisations... although the deep set hunger for a nightly obliteration might well interrupt that. My claws and teeth have returned. Want to do everything I know I shouldn't. All of it, love making a collage out my pleasures. The Ego demands temporary satisfactions to deny the Soul. Luxury...  

Let's try drinking water, breathing deep and slow and allow the sunset rays to enter instead. Or not. It might be too late.

304 songs recorded in Prague and I would exchange all of them, the time and energy of their joy for a child of my own, in a heartbeat. In an amphetamine second. Laugh like a giggling child or a Buddhist monk. (stong pa nyid du gyur.... Everything becomes Emptiness).

Got the date of the Million Marijuana March wrong last month, just goes to show how the eagle talons of my memory have been blunted by various means. The past always catches up because there is only Now. Etc. Hmm, on to the Net for a spell...

Dark Meditations on social media, throw them into the satire...throw them to the Wolf.

Foul traitors to the human spirit. Who took the jam out of your doughnut? There you stood on the edge of your feather, expecting to butterfly but regressed to caterpillar. But why get hung up on negativity? Unless you enjoy auto erotic asphyxiation. Normality follows...in a Bitch's Brew. Hunger.

'Why be bleak when you can be Blake?' Jonhn Balance.  

'The self reflecting image of a narcotised mind'. Gira.

Variations on the politics of dominance... 'Antennae tuned to inhuman vibrations'.  Duck Fart calling Cheese Boy out....you guys kill me, how small do your penises have to be for this braggadocio? How about a naked sumo fight to the death in a large tub of butter instead? Just a charming vision.... Glad Le Pen lost, happy that France after all the attacks still has not swung too far Right, shame for all of Putin's cash seeded into her campaign...you're not going to get that investment back baldy. But all your other shit stirring is going so well, you must be proud. Meanwhile here in the Czech Republic, the three main leaders become increasingly foul and ridiculous, a president whose every utterance is despicable and a businessman politician telling the Big Lies as he rises and rises into the rotten stink of filth.  

If you don't stir the cream, it turns into scum.

I first came to Prague several years after the Velvet Revolution and of course I am still an alien outsider, but it is clear after 22 years just how well the leaders have studied and learned from the West. Pulled between populism, and Putin, they choose enrichments and power above actually serving. Say it again for the 93rd time; Only a revolution of the Spirit will win. Silent and beautiful, private and secret, one soul at a time. Remember the Laws of Phase Transition. Or as they say here; 'Truth and love will overcome'. Hold on to let go...

Still irritates me that way too many of the young in rebellion against the usual 'adult' right wing thinking, go for Socialism and left wing rubbish. All those in organisations on demonstrations, funded by those who have NO interest in 'power to the people', but do care about power FROM the people. Bastards swindling suckers. Even the majority of those who disbelieve in mainstream religion end up in various sects/cults who exist solely/SOULy to vampire money and energy from the desperate vacuum created by a lack of personal self discovery and internal private faith.

Speaking of which....

The Campaign for the hearts and minds of the European folk dream...in Britain...

I remain (arf) patriotic of the energy, the magic in England but it has been buried, smothered, dormant. Again, as an outsider, it is more apparent each time I return to the island, the changes are more visible. As unbalanced as I am, it causes an ocean of sadness, then a blind rage of hatred. Then, peace...just biorhythms, moon waves and electromagnetic impulses on chemicals eh? Or something. All will evolve... But...

humans eh? What can you do? We are all in the ark together, for a while.

Street corners all over Prague with servants of The Watchtower...mobile billboards with pictures and stories of 'The Riders of the Apocalypse'. (Isn't it against the law the to disturb the peace?) Sorry smiling ones, but I just won't swallow the coming of the Lord. I love the bible, you couldn't make it up, couldn't make it more ridiculous but they are having dammed good attempt. Standing around trying to scare people - as if we don't have enough shit to worry about. Trying to convince that the end is coming (and looking forward to it because they will be SAVED) and that it will be horrible. Possibly, most of us know this already, which is why we spend so much time on various destructive hobbies to make us feel immortal.  

On better days I would stop and 'engage' Jehovah's Voyeurs in debate, the Mormons, the Scientologists et al... free entertainment...wonderful conversations. I have been in mental asylums where the reasoning makes far more sense. Once again, 'Only the madman is absolutely sure'. I have doubts about Everything (except music) so that means I am sane and pure eh? And you, spending your valuable time speed reading this, how about you? Feeling good?

Tattooed above the gates of Hell:

'Abandon all Hope, all ye who Enter Her'

Last words from Aleister Crowley; 'I am perplexed'. Wonder if he was surprised by all the unconditional Love which appeared just before the 'end'? Getting old is not for carrots, or was that cowards? Memories get distorted when this ancient in Paradise. Arf. So many charming negative possibilities, you need the detachment and wisdom of a sage to overcome and accept 'It is what it is'. And in doing so, 'it' changes'. 'Perception, use it or lose it. As Mr R. Bach's Messiah's Handbook said. It also said; 'Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours'.  

Hmmm...Wonder where all those who emptied their bank accounts, sold their houses and sat on a mountain waiting for The End in December 1999 are these days? Wishing it had been or much wiser now? Would loved there to have been a live camera on them as the clock clicked to a minute past midnight on the first day of '2000', close ups of each face, zooming into their eyes.

'There's some people on Earth, they live in separate minds'.....'The past and future were simultaneous'. Gira.

'It is difficult, if not impossible to insult a beautiful woman. She remains beautiful and the insult recoils.' It is also impossible to insult a self acknowledged loser. They know and the words mean nothing. The insult only shows that the one who considers themselves above such lowly matters will inevitably be in the same sinking boat sooner

or later. This gives a dark satisfaction.

This year, 'M', a virtual assistant similar to Siri on Apple and Alexa on Amazon has been launched on Facebook in the US. Cannot be disabled, only muted or ignored...it can listen to every conversation on the site and make suggestions about payments, travel etc. Zuckerberg looking more stressed by the month because he is working for the bad guys... possibly why he seeks to do so much for charity in order to appease his conscience. Or not. But the chances of Facebook resisting the CIA's mass surveillance scheme is beyond unlikely. Oh yes, and Facebook's own figures show that there are more 18 year old males using it than are actually alive on this planet. Great research guys, well done. Gullible.  

Wonder if Snowden (follow him on Twitter boys and girls) has been questioned in Russia about his work. Guess. He did the right thing for sure, the problem with democracies pretending to be the good guys is that when they cross over in the name of security on an hourly basis, they really cross over. At some point they only become the devil you think you know. However, given the choice between being ruled by China, Russia or the poison caliphate of daesh, I will still take Europe or even America. I'd much rather have Buddha on the astral, beaming humour and wisdom, or the All Seeing Eye but them is the breaks we get. Every state is a bastard. Some are actually worse than others...

The United Altered States of Earth. That would work. Eh?

Which brings me to May 35th, (as those who used to write about it on social media in China called it, to avoid being arrested) also known as June 4th, the date of the Tienanmen massacres, another disgraceful stain on the group soul of humanity, perpetuated in the name of control. May the memories never be erased from the collective mind. The beginning of the chaos in Syria reminded me of Peking... students and shopkeepers asking for a little more correct behaviour and freedom from their loving leaders, mown down by tanks. Not terrorists, not aggressive agitators, but normal, regular people. SHAME.  

Good to see the former chief of the FBI (sacked by Duck Fart for speaking truth to power) confirming the Russian influence on the recent election in America. Not as if the US has never done this in other countries though eh? Daffy Donald the 'straight talker' is probably overjoyed at having the NSA at his disposal. Straight talker? This man cannot even form coherent sentences...too much time tweeting can do that. Remember Tony Blair describing himself as 'a pretty straight sort of a guy'?? ARF. Reminds me of Hunter S Thompson epithet about President Nixon; 'This guy was so crooked he had to screw his pants on every morning'.  

Duck Fart called the ex boss 'crazy...a real nut job'. Seems reasonable enough eh? A prerequisite for the top job of such a serious agency. A day later, two of those

mentioned in the FBI's case of the Kremlin's pupeteering met POTUS in the White House... without journalists or tapes etc. Not suspicious at all. Impeach him now. And as for Duck Fart's statement that the suicide bomber in Manchester, England was a 'evil loser'....Is this really an adult male speaking?   Almost wept to see a photo of him in Bethlehem, Israel... (getting tips for his Mexican wall no doubt) his motorcade passing a poster with the words 'The City of Peace Welcomes the Man of Peace'. As Dylan said, quoting from another source '...sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.'.... This is NOT the guy to calm things down, build bridges and make all the children sing with joy. And that's enough of the news/ the olds.  

Admired this month have been PJ Harvey (one of the finest females ever to come from Britain, a beautiful talent and passion) Quentin Tarantino, the absolute genius of Wayne Shorter, truly touched by God. Zappa again, Coil forever, Jaz Coleman's first symphony, the Kammerflimmer Kolektief, Savages and Crass, last of the true punks who lived what they shouted about.

'There is no authority but yourself'.

So...did 'God' lie when it said if you eat the apple, you will surely die'? According to the infallible Bible, Adam and Eve ate and died not. So 'Satan' told the truth? You are already making up your own mind. Happy re-programming. Don't forget kids, the Illuminati are on our side:-) Good luck with the discipline of ritual and projection/ internalisation. See you in the interdimesions....Enjoy the summer of Love...the war for peace is an ancient one.  

If I had half a brain, I'd be dangerous eh?  

Stay well.