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randomfoggytiger · 6 months ago

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"I find it tasteless that you don’t really care what KF did to those young people as long as your golden boy comes out looking alright...."

"You’ll defend anything adjacent to D. I see a lot of arguments that do not have anything to back it up, like he probably acted inappropriately while drunk at a party before and so what? I’m taking about MP (who said she was drunk?) being unable to control herself because she needed everyone to know she was with D and touches his dick in her spare time. Disturbingly, that’s what seems to give her self-worth. All that is why she’s not very likable or tolerable. Evidence shows that chiropractic adjustments do more to harm than help, but as long as people feel they work everything is hunky-dory? It alarming that you don’t care about real harm being done to people’s spines because it’s D’s gf’s father providing the service? I can’t respect people who push any of that bull crap."

-@iwantapenguin, 2024

Lie, verb: lied; lying. To make an untrue statement with intent to deceive. To create a false or misleading impression.

Slander, verb: slandered, slandering. To make false and damaging statements about (someone).

Gloves off, then. But next time, tag me properly so I can be notified that you are going to abandon a civil discussion and resort to violence.

Post I'm responding to here (and tangentially, here.)

I shall also give you the curtesy of quoting you directly so that everyone can judge for themselves if my claims are valid, fair, or truthful.

**Note**: I do not begrudge anyone feeling disgusted or grossed out by age gap relationships: the majority of those relationships start from a bad place, continue in a bad place, and are doomed to fail or take both parties down with it. However, the accusations flung against David and Monique without merit-- not those that are or were provably awkward or roughshod -- are a waste of my time, energy, and brain power. Give me proof or give me death.

First: "Whataboutism?" Wherefore art thou, 'Whataboutism'?

Next: "People who post their family’s whole lives on social media for attention or to make money are vultures." Except Monique doesn't get a cut off of management deals, engagement, or even ads. DD and his kids have posted pics of their personal lives, homes, and vacations, as well. They not only let Monique continue to post pics and videos, but also respond to (West) or engage with (David) them. And hi, yes, hello, I also despise family vloggers because they exploit children who can't consent.

Next: "MP has thousands of followers she does not know, so private her account is not." ...What? You can have a private account and still have followers without following them. I know people who operate their dinosaur Facebook accounts like that, young and old generation; and they're most certainly private citizens. I know youngins and oldins who operate their Twitters like that. You probably do, too, or at least know someone who does. I'm hungry for facts, but nothing's been proven with that statement.

Next: "D is so clueless he didn’t know that Gillian was taking BTS pictures on TXF’s set to post on Instagram." David didn't know GA was posting their bts vids online, true; but he was also the one who brought up that she was "always taking pictures and videos" when they were discussing fan engagement; and he and she both laughed over it while he assured Gillian he was okay with "it", regardless.

Their exact dialogue, transcribed:

David: "You know how stupid I am? How innocent and naive I am? You would take a video and I'd go 'oh, cool'."

Gillian: *smiling* "And not realize that I was gonna post it?"

David: *smiling*: "Yeah, and then you'd post it. It'll be like, 'Oh. Well, I should have taken a look at that one.'

Both: *laughing*

Gillian: "Well, you never complained so I thought you were okay with whatever...."

David: "I AM o-- y'know, none of it was terrible; but it was like, I never think to do it."

Also, he clarified in May 2015 (before, as you theorize, Monique could have gotten her hands on his phone or publicly posted about him) that he doesn't trust social media because of the assumptions, misinterpretations, and no-going-back nature of technology: "The 54-year-old actor, who has daughter West, 16, and son Miller, 12, with ex-wife Téa Leoni, admits he only uses Twitter because he was ''prodded to do it.'' The 'Aquarius' star said: ''I'm skeptical of Twitter. I'm prodded to do it, and so I do it. But I feel like there is an opportunity to screw up constantly. You have to be careful. It doesn't go away anymore! I tell my kids the same thing.'" Not because of some high-minded but too-lazy-to-accomplish-her-schemes gold digger posting his private business behind his back.

Next: "A few of his daughter’s friends unfollowed her after the sneaky filming started. The photos are already out there for many people to see curtesy of MP, so I’ll document her ridiculous behavior." Perhaps. I don't discount it. But if David didn't have a problem posthumously with Gillian filming him then, and if he still doesn't have a problem with Monique filming him now-- and I know he doesn't because I've watched him play to the camera in some leaked vids others repost here or there-- it would make sense, logically, why West engaged in the same behavior then and now, on her own and with Monique. Some days he might not want to be on camera for all posterity-- indirectly implying that lightheartedly to Gillian in the above transcript-- hence the leg and feet filming.

Again, we. don't. know. If she's a monster or he's a monster, I cast them off into the abyss. But we, the public, have no actual, factual information of... anything, really, other than rumors, speculations, or opinions. What we do know is: he was fine with Gillian posting, even after being made aware of it. He's fine with West posting his apartment and their family activities. He was fine posting a pic of Miller to his own account. He seemed fine with West's boyfriend posting an intimate father-daughter hug for Bucky Dent's premiere. And he seems fine with Monique posting since then.

For every mention you have of West and her friends not engaging with Monique years ago, she most certainly does now. And you can't hide that fact behind West using her father as a leg up in the industry without bringing Tea's contacts from both entertainment and finance into the discussion. Tea who, by the way, has been more than cordial and civil in each outing and sighting with David, saying they're friends, saying they still love each other, telling him he's a good influence and father to West, etc. Even after the timeline you allege he started dating Monique. Even after the other dating timeline you allege she gave fans in a conversation somewhere. Even after he flew in and out of New York before the pandemic. Even after spending the pandemic locked down with his son.

Next: "The photos are already out there for many people to see curtesy of MP, so I’ll document her ridiculous behavior. I’m not his gf, I’ve made no vows to him. He likes to make money on voicing his feelings and opinions. While I’ll continue to comment on a public figure." 'Ridiculous behavior', you say, about an adult posting milestones or cute pictures and videos to her Instagram. Interesting. If she were trying to launch her own career-- which you and your responders have said before she would, a couple times, without anything coming to fruition (the archives don't lie)-- your argument would have a leg to stand on. But then again, David and Tea talked about explicit sex (and their sex lives) back in the day; rolled atop each other on a crowded, public beach; sold David's bottom-as-brush paintings for charity; and promoted her charitable causes during their various movie interviews... so, I would still retract half a point.

Next: "She should have the loyalty, respect, love and care to not use him for attention." Would you say he used her for attention during his performance the night before Bucky Dent, pointing at her and waiting for her response during one of his songs? Did he use her for attention during his recent stories about their private lives on recent podcasts? Did he use his children for attention on his podcasts? Did he use Tea for attention during their collaborations? Did she use him for attention to promote her friend's brand during their recent family vacation? If we broaden this out to its conclusion: do the Obamas use their children or each other for attention, setting aside their 'loyalty, respect, love, and care' for each other in order to do so? Or do they just say or post what they want within personalized limitations that are narrowed or broadened as relationships shift and grow?

Next: "He’ll hold her hand or leg in public now that his mother isn’t here to witness them. How romantic." David's stated in the past his mother didn't listen to what the talk shows said or read what the papers wrote about him. If you want to be really technical, he's also said she had dementia or Alzheimer's (can't recall which specifically) for a few years now; and that it was so advanced by the time of her death that she didn't recall one day from the next. Would she have disapproved? You bet your bottom dollar she probably did. She also would have disapproved of him being as explicit and cussy as he was for decades; and she would more than likely have disapproved of him getting tattoos; and she would have most definitely disapproved of all his youthful, adult, and older adult sexual shenanigans, innocent or not. That didn't stop him before.

To be even more technical, most of the pap shots of DD and MP are taken at Soho House and Erewhon Market, two celebrity hotspots that managers, publicists, and paparazzi use to prearrange meetups in order to get the celebrity's name out there in advance of the next promotional tour, as well as merge their interests to get a split of the photograph proceeds. (I covered the topic here.) All David has to do is show up--ultimately, they're business strolls. He's annoyed (even angry) at having to do it; but he still holds up his end of the celebrity bargain 'cuz that's Hollywood, baby. And he's always brought Monique along with him.

Next: "He pushed her hand away when people were looking before...." Continuing on my train of thought. The other times he and Monique were caught unawares by paparazzi (his band at the airport, Vancouver, the beach, etc.) were during the Revival hype. Monique didn't try to snuggle up, grab his hand, or get too close most incidences. The hand move you're referring to was, I believe, after a live show when he was super-duper keyed up, wanted to leave, and was followed (semi-circled?) by fans. Yeah, it could be a sign he wanted physical distance from her... except he acted out the exact same routine with his kids whenever they got papped or surrounded by a crowd: walking ahead of them, retreating into himself, not touching anyone unless they were feeling insecure or scared, looking serious or annoyed unless talked to or joked with. It was a clear pattern to me, so I guess I'm surprised you didn't notice it, too.

Next: "...and made her hold his arm like he was her gramps." I have an older couple-- 70s-- who have been married forever and still hold each other's arm like that, preferring to keep any romantic overtures tightly under wraps. I knew other older couples who would think that's rubbish or insanity. I know other young couples who are physically affectionate in public; and others who, again, would prefer to keep contact to a minimum. I've seen, read, or heard of every shade in-between; and I know you have, too. Maybe David likes how it makes him feel. Maybe Monique likes reenacting Austenian period dramas. Of all the accusations brought against them, this amuses me the most.

To be even more technical, I can pull up preeeeetty much all the paparazzi pics between he and MP in chronological (not release, they were reshuffled) order to prove that he initiated more contact with MP than the other way around, stemming as far back as 2017.

Next: "They didn’t have to have contact with Tim once he started dating their mother but they always did." First of all, I challenge you to prove that assertion. Second of all... why is that the focus of your question? Why did or didn't they have to? That's an assumption equal to the kids having no contact at all with MP for years. We don't know.

Tim said on a podcast that he and Tea shared a trailer to catch a nap early on in their relationship. Their coworkers suspected they were dating the entire first season, long before they announced it publicly (five-six months later around Christmas.) Tea and David previously married each other within eight weeks. Tea moves fast. We don't know how fast; but we do know one source alleged she and Tim were an item since summer (July) of 2014. David then filed for divorce in August, citing an "irretrievable breakdown of the marriage" (meaning Tea was ready to move on, that's her prerogative); and she and Tim spent Season 1 fake kissing but looked like they were "really kissing", according to an onset actor friend. All this to say, pretty sure Madam Secretary's pilot filmed in May; and if she and Tim were "on" by July, etc., it stands to reason she moves at the same pace as she did with her first husband; then David; then (presumably) Tim. Meaning, we don't know how much contact the kids had with Tim; but it was probably, likely, a lot. Monique, meanwhile, lived primarily in California; and she and the kids had separate worlds, we assume, until West graduated and started forming her own relationship behind the scenes. Miller seems to have followed suit; and the rest is history. All of those are provable facts because we have what David and Tea have said about and done with each other; what Tea and Tim have said about each other; what observers have confirmed or denied on all angles of the situation; and what the kids were doing then and doing now.

Next: "She smoked, loved red meat, wasn’t a gym rat etc. It’s just a little thing, not marriage ending but people fair better the more similar their habits." Your previous implication in the comments of our last chat here was that they wouldn't have lasted long because David couldn't mold Tea into the woman HE wanted. You assume he cheated, cheated, cheated until rehab, then cheated, cheated, cheated some more until their second and final breakup (despite the fact sources from her side said the final dissolution was due to her love not being the same as pre-rehab, not that he'd kept acting reprehensibly), then hooked up with a 19-year-old mercenary social climber that, somehow, waited two years before accidentally leaking where she and her boyfriend would be working out (in a reply to the owners of the Instagram gym they would be going to... which means someone had to have been stalking who she was talking to in order to find that information, hm) so he could no longer hide her away like a dirty secret. Those aspects of Tea were brought up to subtly back your larger point, which was to lay the blame at David's feet one way or another. If he deserves it, lay it there. But prove that he deserves it.

Next: "MP is at his beck and call, she will also twin him without hesitation." MP at his beck and call? ...Or maybe she's down to fly free to any cool new location, down to fly wherever he is because he's her boyfriend and she loves him, down to enjoy a financial freedom we mortals could only dream of having, etc., etc.? Assumptions on all sides; and, again, no proof.

Next: "They didn’t follow each other before because they didn’t interact in real life either. She had to leave when they were visiting up until 2022 and 2023. They didn’t have to have contact with Tim once he started dating their mother but they always did." Never denied that was the case. Still don't buy there was some grand conspiracy happening behind the scenes to keep the kids away from the disgusting age gap relationship and the dastardly, evil machinations MP was concocting on her evil Instagram account. I need hard proof before I believe assumptions.

Next: "Regarding Téa you are assuming she must be ok with MP because she’s good with D but I’m pointing out that she admitted she still wanted to strangle him sometimes for the things he does on a national television show" I never said Tea was okay with MP, just that she's more than okay with David despite his relationship.

Also, Tea's throttle comment disproves your angle, actually. Might as well throw it in here because that's a point you've not let go.

Tea's comment with full context:

In fact, the exes are on very amicable terms and talk almost every day, they even shared a rental home with all of their family over the Christmas period. But this doesn't mean the pair's current relationship is always smooth sailing. “On occasion, I want to throttle him,” she said of her former hubby. "But in any real relationship with someone you love, that’s true.”

Tea's quote the previous year, fresh from divorce:

"Listen, David gave me the two greatest gifts on the planet; I don't know how I could ever hate him. We've always loved each other, and we adore these kids," the 'Jurassic Park 3' actress said of her children, Kyd Miller, 12, and Madelaine West, 15. "I'm not playing stupid-I understand feelings can get hurt and things can get icky. We've had our moments like that. But these kids are too important, and he feels the same way. I know it," she continued. "He's a good guy."

Next: "Of course MP showed everyone the second she first hung out with both of them to no one’s surprise." This doesn't hold up in court, either, because West and her boyfriend gushed over MP all summer. West would have complained to her mom or dad if she felt uncomfortable with the video posted; and neither parent have would let that happen again. Furthermore, guess who was relaxed, smiling, and engaging with the camera, other than Monique? West. Guess who hugged up on Monique while her dad and Ben Stiller celebrated Bucky Dent's release with a performance? West. Guess who gave Monique a happy Happy Birthday message? West. Guess who attended a Taylor Swift concert with Monique? West. Guess who went with her to London to, as you say, "babysit" Monique? West. Guess who celebrated her birthday in New York with, you assume, Monique? West. Guess who'll be elsewhere with Monique in future? Probably West.

Next: "What are you taking about fixing things because of what’s written about her? She made fun of people for saying her friend was her boyfriend because they were disgusted by thought of David dating her and didn’t want to believe she was for real. So that was proof she was reading a few tumblrs when her name was first revealed." Logical inference but incomplete reasoning, I believe. David knows exactly what was said about his House of D movie; David knows what everyone was saying and has said about him during his rehab, reunion, and divorce; Tea knows what might be said and forbids Tim to talk about her in interviews; I know and you know what is being said about each other, which is why we're here (but at least I'll respond to you properly with a reblog or @); and Monique knows what people say about her because she possibly Googled herself or, I don't know, took a look at the vitriol in her comments section-- a few of which you've reposted in the past so even I got to see them. Lovely times. Again, no definitive proof.

Next: "How am I supposed to know if she’s read my blog? But what a dedicated reader you are." Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment instead of a barb. I began poking around your archives right around the time you made a post trying to debunk my David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson seasonal palette posts. (If you're trying to put me off, consider that you brought up our difference of opinion once again in the midst of an entirely separate talk about Monique and David's relationship.) You didn't have the curtesy to @ me then (and now); but I started scrolling while waiting for you to respond, came across a host of information, and decided to come back later to iron out some details. Needless to say, you can't passive-aggressively point a finger at me when your posts are supposed to be public to begin with, not even coyly private like you claim Monique's Instagram account is. One pointing forward, three pointing back, after all.

While we're on the topic, I also caught a lie you told during our previous conversation. Back in 2019? you put a cryptic message saying you didn't believe David and West were close because of Monique; and when West posted the next day for Father's Day, you followed up with another cryptic post hinting MP was reading her Tumblr detractors; and when another user called you out for that, you denied, denied, denied that was your intent; and then you confirmed that that had been your intent to me (in essence, restating that you believe MP keeps up with her anti Tumblr accounts and pressures DD's kids through him to post nice family tributes so they'll cover for her manipulative tactics actively destroying everyone's hunky dory life.) It's the same train of thought as "Gillovny is married"; except your theories are couched with half facts instead of pure insanity.

Next: "She’s never looked anorexic to me so thin yes but not too thin. D was only shockingly thin after Téa left him for good in 2011. My criticism has alway been to question the men in her life and her surroundings pushing her to get plastic surgery and to over exercise which made her much slimmer than she was before. Is that constructive enough?" Yes, actually; because this ties beautifully into my next point about your warfare tactics.

Indirect aggression is a form of aggression that hides behind "my opinion" or "my two cents" to bully others without receiving backlash. While it can be used in sexually competitive environments (in same sex bullying, for example), it mainly extends to interpersonal groups, families, and anonymous online forums. To quote National Library of Medicine: "According to Björkqvist [15], females prefer to use indirect aggression over direct aggression (i.e. verbal and physical aggression) because this form of aggression maximizes the harm inflicted on the victim while minimizing the personal danger involved. The risk to the perpetrator is lower because he/she often remains anonymous, thereby avoiding a counterattack. As well, indirect aggression harms others in such a socially skilled manner that the aggressor can also make it appear as if there was ‘no intention to hurt at all’." I recommend reading the study: it has a few fascinating things to say about perceived threats and thinness, as well.

The study continues: "Indirect aggression is circuitous in nature and entails actions such as getting others to dislike a person, excluding peers from the group, giving someone the ‘silent treatment’, purposefully divulging secrets to others, and the use of derisive body and facial gestures to make another feel self-conscious." While I can't see your face while typing out a post, your words do a sufficient enough job: "When has she ever been stunning honestly? She’s comparable to Perry Reeves and Suzanne Lanza. Average, a little masculine, thin and no sagging. The face doesn’t matter to men like David, nor intellect."

Another quote from a study published on PubMed Central: "In indirect aggression, the aggressor often uses others in the social group to harm the target and may avoid direct confrontation, whereas in direct aggression, the aggressor either physically or verbally confronts the target." Examples? Posting one's opinions about another person indirectly to their blog by not, say, tagging or addressing the 'opposition' directly, leaving them to be told about it or stumble onto it later before they can defend themselves... that might, perhaps, fit the bill. As would calling David and Monique names; then, when given pushback, telling detractors they don't need to care about your opinions, anyway. (For the record, I don't. Just found it fascinating to study the oh so subtle shifts of your narrative back and forth. That compliment's a freebie, by the way-- I try to hand out at least one in each negatively bent post.)

Don't get me wrong: if Monique were a provably bad person, I'd dust off my hands and let you have at. But for all your opinions, you have very few facts; and the mess-ups, flubs, or ill-thought actions on MP's part you have mentioned are so disparate and scattered-- and rarely repeated-- that they look less like condemning incidents and more like overblown reactions to mundane or innocent mistakes.

And before you write off my points by claiming I'm claiming you're jealous of Monique or some such nonsense, one of the above studies openly acknowledges that indirect aggression is not built on the premise of intrasexual competition strategy: "...developmental psychologists have tended to not conceptualize females' use of indirect aggression as an intrasexual competition strategy."

Next: "Again with the whataboutism." Art thou 'Whataboutism'?

Next: "So you were at the after party to see people’s reactions and parties where D’s been drunk?" No, and neither were you. You were also not at David's apartment when Monique and the kids might or might not have been there; you were also not in the room when David and Tea and the kids discussed Tim or Monique; and you were also not in either Monique's or David's head during the posts, blocks, unfollows, refollows, etc. decisions that were made. I merely commented on the fact that you have brought up his drinking before events in in the past, your reactions to it, others on here's reactions to it, and David's circle of friends, and what I do and don't know of said friends' behavior in the past.

Next: "D and T were inappropriate but consensual. PM pulled G’s bikini bottom down when she was trying to close the umbrella and I slammed him for that too. She was humiliated and embarrassed when the pictures were released." Conflation. David and Tea were surrounded by people in both instances, knew others could see them, and didn't care, inappropriate or not. Peter Morgan and Gillian were on a private vacation; and their privacy was infringed on by the paparazzi and media. For all the negative talk that came out of that incident, not one person stated that G was unwilling, visibly uncomfortable, or angry at Peter Morgan for doing so; only that she was "humiliated and embarrassed" after the fact. The problem in BOTH situations is that PM and MP were groping their partners in what they took for granted as private situations-- I have a casual understanding of David's friends and wouldn't be surprised if they didn't care about her or his antics in the long run-- and were filmed without any parties' consent.

Next: "D did not know what MP was doing, he almost spilled his drink jumping back away from her and he did not look like he enjoyed that trick in a room full of strangers." I saw the video a couple times. Did you not catch his smirk once he realized she wasn't trying to tickle his stomach but was doing a game to end up at his junk? It wasn't a polite one, either. If she had intentionally crossed a boundary and made him uncomfortable, I condone that behavior.

Next: "Defending that kind of public humiliation is repugnant." That's a lie, and you know it. Not once in our conversation have I taken the position of condoning, endorsing, or rug sweeping manipulative, abusive, coercive, or other boundary stomping behaviors. They are repugnant to me; and though being called 'repugnant' doesn't make a dent because you have no proof to back up your claim. And, frankly, it speaks to your character that you would try to blacken mine.

Next: "I find it tasteless that you don’t really care what KF did to those young people as long as your golden boy comes out looking alright."

Excuse you, that is a lie and slander.

In the comments of our previous conversation, I stated over and over he was a pimp. He should absolutely rot for what he's done. But you assume that Monique is just as guilty: benefiting from a business relationship with him, sweeping his treatment of other girls under the rug, using a victim's story to score back pats for herself. The reality is, the victim sided with Monique, both when MP supported her in the comments and when MP posted her own Instagram story sharing she'd been "there" before. Foregoing the obvious conclusion, you posted their first back and forth with other comments tearing Monique apart as the secret villain in this tragic story. That's disgusting, in my opinion. I tried to understand why you got to that conclusion; but if not only her friends, not only her coworkers, but the victim HERSELF is standing by Monique, then it is not the time to vindictively insinuate she exercised the same mean, grasping, oily tactics as her former boss. Further, that she was exploiting someone else's tragedy and trauma for her own gain.

Next: "She can be immature and also be a user who uses situations to her advantage." To quote you once again: that's a lie. Prove it. You can't. You can only assume what her intent, motives, and actions are based on your inference of her character.

Next: "...the old greasy celebrity rocker KR was trying to push on them." You can't prove that; and until you can, I can sit here and say it's a lie. It's your inference against mine.

Next: "She did not say she was mistreated by her boss." I never said her boss mistreated her. I never even got that indication from the post you spread around. She related to her coworker's experience through her personal one. Just because KR was an absolute monster to other girls doesn't mean he was a monster to all of them: monsters, abusers, and manipulators pick on the weakest person who has no one to stand behind and back them up. Her father, for instance, would have been a not insignificant buffer. He's well-connected in California, or so you imply by saying he's met David before. And it stands to reason he would be, supplement and wellness culture being what it is in the Golden State.

Next: "According to you MP was an adult and mature enough so she should have know what those special favors from the boss looked like to everyone else." Let's not get into the "his family and friends should have known Ted Bundy was a horrible person" of it all. No one knows what they're not aware of. I have a close, close family member who grew up adoring an abuser because he'd never abused her; yet was horrified and had to process the fact her other sibling was being used for everything short of penetration. To quote a good ol' Aslan meme: "Do not cite the deep magic to me, Witch! I was there when it was written."

Next: "She wrote a short perfunctory show of support for damage control and went back to thanking her lucky stars she now has an easy life of privilege living in a multi-million dollar Malibu home by the ocean thanks to her boss at SLO." First: prove it. You can't with any degree of fact. Second: I'd be thanking my lucky stars, too. So would you. So does everyone who's been in a tangential situation to an abuser and escaped unscathed-- so unscathed that they didn't even know the boss was perpetuating abuse. And that can at least be proven because, as you say, MP's boyfriend was still buying from that shop days before everything broke out; and she publicly empathized with and received empathy from the victim right after. Has the victim made a scathing comment calling out Monique later? Nope. Bet they're still on good terms, too.

Next: "What else does a very rich 54 year old man want from a 21 year old but lots of sex and an easy relationship with someone who doesn’t know any better?" Lots of sex, an easy relationship free of the complicated dynamics of children from other relationships, and someone to love and love him. Seems logical to me. What is unacceptable in age gap relationships are the predators who aim for 21-year-olds (or 19-year-olds, as you posit) because they pull women their age and can't aim lower; and who lock 'em down and knock 'em up as quickly as possible so they can't escape. Or those who say "yeah, sure, I'll marry you" while dragging their feet until the girl (as they see her) gives up and stays or gets up and leaves. If the latter, they start fresh with another young woman who might not see through their routine bag of tricks. David, for all his faults, has stated his intentions up front and publicly: he's not marrying again. He still wears the ring tattoo from his previous relationship. He relived the trauma of a broken home through his own actions. He still can't dwell on the pain his kids went through during that time. Unless he decides to change his mind, Monique's outta luck. Yet, I don't believe she cares as much as you do if they do get married or not. Certainly not as far as either of us can prove, anyway. By the way, Tea and Tim haven't married yet, either; and they've been together provably longer than Monique and David.

Next: "She was male celebrity obsessed, younger but she went with the one who came into the shop and showed interest." Prove it. You can't. Let's say that's the case: she would've hopped to a new person long before now. David's got friends, she's gone to his parties, she's met his people. Opportunists don't sit long with a second option when they get an opportunity to grab for their first. I read your old posts about her Twitter/Instagram follows; but none of you take into account if she was following other people and pruned those people out as her interests changed. You also can't prove when she followed those accounts: the next day after she opened her account? A month after? A year after? I have accounts open I've never used; I have family and friends that do, as well. Let's say she opened it right away and began using it: again, when did she follow those accounts? Were those celebrities part of a collective that her boss or coworkers said came into the shop? Did she prune out the others after seeing them in person? Why? Because you assume other celebrities are immune to her masterfully unskilled manipulation, but David wasn't?

Next" "You’ll defend anything adjacent to D."

That's a lie.

Prove it. He had to go into a sex addiction program because he hurt his wife and kids. He talks about saving the planet yet doesn't take more than bare minimum actionable steps himself. (What he does in his personal life is of no concern to me; but it is hypocritical of him.) If he backs up Chris Carter against Gillian in the Revival controversy, I will lose a qualitative amount of respect for him (because there is actual, factual proof of wrongdoing on Chris's part to his longtime friend and mother of his goddaughter.) He has blind spots, faults, weaknesses, and failures like any other person.

Next: "I see a lot of arguments that do not have anything to back it up, like he probably acted inappropriately while drunk at a party before and so what?" No, my comment was even you have picked at DD for drinking before his shows. That even he has probably acted on impulse before or during a party. That even he didn't seem too bothered after he realized MP wasn't tickling him. That his expression changed when he saw someone filming their interaction. I also pointed out his and Tea's post-rehab reconciliation shenanigans of equal and greater caliber (having a jolly time at a public ballgame and rolling on top of each around other beachgoers.) I also pointed out that GA had a Portofino moment. Would I grab my boyfriend's junk if we were in public? No. But David did with Tea. The only difference between those situations was DD and T had the power of denial on their side while MP was not afforded that luxury. You called her behavior trashy; but posting someone's junk grab to the internet without their consent is trashier to me.

Next: "Disturbingly, that’s what seems to give her self-worth." Prove it, with testimony and evidence other than assumptions you and other Tumblr, Instagram, or Twitter jockeys assume and interpret. Give me a firsthand witness of her behavior. Give me a former friend or a colleague. Give me a family member. Give me someone other than people on Twitter being blocked by DD's account and assuming it's her. Further, give me proof what they were saying before they were blocked: I don't give mercy to people being snide, snarky, or vile and boohooing about it later. You don't, either, so I'm sure you'll respect that quality.

Next: "Evidence shows that chiropractic adjustments do more to harm than help...."

That's a lie, and a pretty brazen one.

WebMD, MayoClinic, Medical News Today, healthline, and more medical websites and journals have articles promoting chiropractic methods, as well as the warning signs like any other medical procedure. The only disclaimer they put up was that chiropractic adjustments haven't shown a conclusive improvement in athletic achievement.

One of their articles state: "All chiropractors must earn a postgraduate degree (DC), taking up to 4 years to complete, and are required 90 semester hours of undergraduate coursework, and some programs require a bachelor's degree. All states also require chiropractors to be licensed." And all medical doctors and nurses are required to be licensed if they practice medicine; yet, bad apples slip through the cracks. It's slander to paint me as a blackhearted, single-minded, "let them eat cake" person towards victims of possible scammers, manipulators, and frauds just because I don't fall in line with your viewpoint. Further, you indirectly lump me in with your public statements about her "snake oil salesman" father without having any proof whatsoever that chiropractic practice is detrimental other than a few studies-- which I hope you didn't lie about looking up, too-- that the medical community doesn't even stand behind, while using them as your sword and shield. All because you didn't have concrete proof against Monique's father, all because Monique is dating David, all because you don't like their relationship.

More quotes and linked studies from healthline: "For example, in a 2015 study, researchers found that a group of 544 people in chiropractic care reported a high level of satisfaction. ...A 2016 study found that the Cobb angle in a group of five children with scoliosis improved after 8 weeks of chiropractic treatment. Noticeable improvements were seen after 4 weeks of treatment. ...A 2017 case study examined the effect of chiropractic treatment on a 27-year-old woman suffering from back pain, neck pain, and headaches caused by hyperkyphosis posture." They even provide guidelines to find a chiropractor-- "Ask for recommendations from your doctor, physical therapist, or other healthcare provider." And-- "Ask your friends, coworkers, or family members if they have any recommendations."

Next: "Evidence shows that chiropractic adjustments do more to harm than help, but as long as people feel they work everything is hunky-dory?" Prove it. I have genetic backproblems riddling the maternal side of my family; and my great grandmother, a nurse, and her daughter, my grandmother, both had their spines slowly realigned over time with chiropractic procedures. From an almost noticeable hunch to an almost straight line.

Next: "It alarming that you don’t care about real harm being done to people’s spines because it’s D’s gf’s father providing the service?" I also have a maternal family member who suffers from severe back pain every day but can't afford treatment where she lives. You know how I help? Reflexology. Every time, it takes her back from a ~8/10 to almost nothing-- and this from a woman hypersensitive to her body's workings and with an incredible pain tolerance. And yet, I'd be the first person to sign her up for surgery if I could. I regularly push her to seek medical attention for the most minor inconveniences.

CONCLUSION

I'm sorry to say that you are either: A. blinded by my lack of agreement into misinterpreting my words to fit your own narrative-- which is really probable, actually-- or B. willfully telling lies, to yourself or others, because it helps you feel like you've come off on top of an argument.

I'm not interested in creating a rift or a war. I'm also not interested in lies, slander, gossip, and bullying disguised as "this is my opinion."

You can attest I've been nothing but kind, overly so, in the past; and that I didn't ever strike out unless you struck first-- and even then, only to mimic your words or phrases back to you.

I do not respect your opinions: they are baseless and poisonous.

I do not respect your tactics: they are beneath you and I.

I do not respect your lies and slander: that is a given.

Fare thee well. I'm sure we shall speak again.

#iwantapenguin #drama #skip if you don't want to read a breakdown of lies and slander XDDD #this has devolved from a civil discussion to a slander campaign #no chiropractic measures are not anti-science: even WebMD/healthline/Mayo Clinic promotes them #no I do not stand behind all age gap relationships #no I don't believe David is faultless #no David is not my golden boy #no I do not believe in your assumptions because I've tracked all of them to their starting points and they mostly contradict each other #or are based on anons or blind items that ALSO contradict your opinions #yes West is a nepo baby but no she is not friends with MP to get jobs from her dad when she can also get contacts from her mom #who has long-standing connections in the financial/wealthy/high society money class as well as entertainment #no I do not repugnantly defend public humiliation #(I pulled up exact quotes to prove my points below:)#no MP doesn't post behind DD's back and no DD wasn't uncomfortable just because he wasn't aware of it #no Tea does not want to strangle him because of Monique #no MP isn't exploiting the victim of a pimp and groomer just because she worked at his shop (like... y'know... the victim)#yes I do care about victims who are duped and deceived by snake oil salesmen #yes this post is long. Had a lot to respond to; and a lot to disprove

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safyresky · 3 months ago

Text

Grand Tour

Part I

"Pygmys."

"Pygmys?"

"Pygmys. They're fascinating little creatures!" The Prince tapped the glass of the jar he held in his hand. A fluffy little spike ball jumped a bit, spindly legs going wide as it ran all over the jar. "They travel in a big cloud and wreak havoc. They don't mean to, of course. They're just surviving. As we all are. But they do have a tendency to clump and stick to things and they do not come off that easy. We don't have these at the castle! The name is most definitely localized. It'll be exciting to study these closely and—"

"WAIT. THEY WHAT?"

The Prince frowned, turning around and shouting back at the farmer's fields. "THEY STICK."

"OH. WELL THAT EXPLAINS A LOT." The other Prince came around the corner of the farmer's shed, hopping on one foot, covered in pygmys. "Great news, Pyros, Jeremiah. I think I got them all."

"And they're going to eat right through your armour, Blaise. Marvin's going to kill you, you know."

"Not if my twin brother helps me out before then!"

Pyros tried very hard to look stern. He really, really, did. But they'd been travelling cross country for almost a month now and he was feeling quite good being away from home and Blaise looked really very funny with that monstrous big grin of his and he was going to be able to study a creature he could never get his hands on all cooped up inside the castle, so the smile did not slip out so much as it did explode across his face. He laughed to himself, waiting for Blaise to hop right beside him before summoning his staff. Mumbling to himself, he drew a few shapes around his brother, tapped the jar-ed pygmy with the top of his staff, and, once the jewel glowed, tapped the tip of Blaise's armoured foot. The Pygmys flew right off him.

"There we go! Better?"

"Much," Blaise grinned, summoning his own staff. Quickly drawing a circle in the ground he struck his staff in the middle of it. The Pygmys suddenly stopped bouncing around and were pulled into the circle, light stretching up around the perimeter and successfully trapping the sticky little fuzzy creatures within.

"Hmm. Nice. Think that'll hold for the night? I should be able to figure out how to dispose of them by the morning."

"Yeah, it'll hold. And we could always just. Y'know. Relocate them. We don't need to destroy them."

"Blaise, they're pests."

"Maybe they're useful somewhere else! Away from the crops and groves and what have you—"

"AHH! Your HIGHNESSESS!!"

Pyros looked appalled. "Is he calling the both of us? Really?"

Blaise snickered. "Hey, Marvin!" he said, eye contact with Pyros unbroken.

"No no no no NO don't you HEY MARVIN me, Prince Blaise. LOOK at the STATE of the two of you!" The angry drow thrust his hands out at them, face a deeper than usual shade of purple as he caught his breath. "Your armour is COVERED in some sticky substance and WHERE are your surcoats? Tippet? Robes?" He whirled, glaring at Pyros now, arms on his hips. "And YOU, Prince Pyros. WHERE is your ARMOUR?"

Both boys protested, both insisting they did not need the bits they were missing.

"Look, Marv, I've got the armour and Pyros has the robes and surcoats and royal colours so I think we're fine. I mean, between the two of us you have a whole dressed prince!" He grinned, throwing his arm over the drow's shoulders and bringing him in close.

The drow gulped, ducking a bit to avoid the fiery mess that was Prince Blaise's hair. "Your parents will have my head if I don't keep you shipshape and safe and that INCLUDES properly armed AND clean!"

"Marvin, please," Pyros said, raising a hand to placate. "Between the two of us, we'll be fine. We're both nearly masters at the warlock craft—some of us more so than others—and we do have our innate summer sprite lineage at our disposal as well."

"Which some of us excel in, more so than others."

"More so than others—"

Blaise stuck out his tongue with a very immature mlem.

Pyros returned the favour in kind, with a MLEM of his own.

"BOYS! This is really very unbecoming of the both of you—"

Pyros rolled his eyes as Blaise waved carelessly in the air with a very passionate, "Pish, posh."

"What? Pish posh?" Pyros looked perplexed. "Really? Where on Earth—"

"Winter."

"Of course."

"What? It's a fun turn of phrase!"

"You know, you are smitten with that season—"

"BOYS."

"Marv."

"Marvin."

Marvin closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled. Pressed his fingers together one by one before opening his eyes. "Prince Blaise. Prince Pyros. I really must insist—"

"We're fine, Marvin! Really. Look, I'll clean the sticky off in a snap!" And he did just that. Blaise snapped his fingers, the sticky residue left from the Pygmies peeling off of his armour and disappearing into thin air, the armour itself looking freshly polished. "Boom."

"You still aren't wearing—"

"And I'm not going to! Just like Pyros isn't going to wear the armour!"

"It'll only impede my evening's work."

Marvin wrinkled his nose. He looked like he wanted to protest. "Fine. If you insist."

"And oh but we do!"

"Really and truly. I assure you, we will be just fine. You're dismissed, Marvin."

"Yeah, go enjoy the sights! We don't get to go out often, y'know."

Marvin's nose somehow wrinkled even more. "Very well."

Hands still clasped, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the royal entourage, immediately barking orders and dispersing them throughout the town.

"He's going to kill us."

"Oh yeah. One of these days, for sure. But that's a problem for later! For now, you've got fuzzballs to study, and I've got several other tenants to check in with. Unless you want to join—"

"Absolutely not, thanks. Jeremiah, if you wouldn't mind directing me to your local castor? Prisma, I believe is the name?"

"Sure, your highness. Big tower up the street. Very purple. Can't miss it."

"Much obliged. Blaise, I believe we'll have to stay overnight."

"I'll get Marv on it."

"Shout if he tries to kill you," Pyros said, heading down the path.

"He'll shout louder!"

Pyros laughed, turning at the gate and heading up the street.

Blaise watched him go, chuckling to himself. "Ah. I'd say poor Marv, but he makes it too easy. Anything else you need our assistance with, Jeremiah?"

"Well, there is one thing. It's not so much an assist more so as it is a concern. I'd take it to an audience day but uh, I don't often make it up your way."

Blaise smiled warmly. "Sure. What's up?"

"Well, ah. Your Majes-ah, Highness. Sorry, sorry. I mean no offence, I just—the titles—I—"

Blaise held up a hand. "Don't worry. Just Blaise is fine."

Jeremiah paled. "Are you certain?"

"The only people who care about titles are the King and Queen and Pyros and Marv and they are all not here so yes, I'm positive."

The magibean gulped. "Well, ah, Blaise." The corners of his mouth twitched; Blaise grinned. "I hope you don't take offence to this—"

"Why would I?"

"It's about her snowiness. I don't want to impose or, or suggest anything bad or untoward or—"

Blaise tensed. "Is she okay?"

"Ah, I imagine so, yes. I've not heard anything otherwise. It's just...the crops have been freezing."

"Pardon?"

"Every morning I've woken up and the crops have been lightly frosted. I would've attributed it to the East's natural tendency to frost over, on occasion, but that seemed illogical given the time of year...and then I saw her."

"Who?"

"The Season."

"Winter."

Jeremiah nodded. He wrung his hat in his hands, swallowed with an audible gulp. "Um. Every night. Around the same time. She appears just on the edge o'er there," he gestured vaguely to the farthest reaches of his fields. "She lingers for a bit. And then leaves. And every time I go out afterwards, everything is frosty. And it lasts through to the morning. It melts with the sun, but the frost isn't good for the crops and I can't afford any loss—"

Blaise held up a hand. The farmer stopped abruptly, his heart racing, breathing heavily.

"Have you talked to her?"

"Talked? To a SEASON?" Jeremiah blanched. "I'm just a mere farmer, I could never—"

"She's very friendly. Frosty exterior aside."

"Well, Prince Blaise, if it's not out of turn for me to say...you can interact with her. I cannot."

"Why not? I'm sure she'd stay and chat. She's one of Mother Nature's seasons, she won't ignore you if you have a concern—"

The farmer cleared his throat. "Castes, Your Majesty. Ah, Highness. Sorry."

"Blaise. Just Blaise."

"Right. Well. Being what you are—"

"A sprite?"

"A prince."

"Oh! Oh. Right."

"You travel the same circles as her, as it were. It's normal for you to just. Walk up to a season and talk to her. But not for farmers like me."

Blaise's shoulders dropped. His hair died down. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Blaise, I didn't mean to—"

"Ah, don't worry about it!" He perked back up, the brief moment of sadness gone as fast as it came on. It was enough to give Jeremiah whiplash. "Every night, you said?"

Jeremiah nodded.

"Perfect. Tell you what. If you wouldn't mind running over to Marv and letting him know as fancily as possible that Pyros and I have decided to stay the night here, and to make preparations. Y'know. Station guards wherever, find us some nice lodgings—"

"Oh! Okay, sure! So something like," he cleared his throat, straightening his posture and holding his hat behind his back. "The Princes have decided to stay overnight. Prince Blaise has asked me to ask you to make whatever preparations you see fit to, and to procure lodgings for them for the night. Like that?"

"PERFECT! Thanks, Jerry." Blaise clapped his arm, grinning. "And while you do that, I'll gather up the rest of the Pygmys for Pyros, and tonight I'll stake out your fields! If Winter comes by, I'll talk to her and see if I can figure out the frost for you."

Jeremiah brightened. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just...you're so hands on! The King isn't. We usually have to wait a few days before the appropriate measures are taken for various issues. You and your brother tackle them right away! It's not—it's unexpected. And, um, to besmirch the character of a Season in front of a royal?"

"Besmirch?" Blaise laughed. "Nah, you're just concerned, is all. And I appreciate you telling me. I'll get it sorted, don't you worry. I'm sure it's nothing."

Jeremiah nodded. "I'm sure you're right."

---

Lodgings set for the night and Pyros hard at work with the local castor, Blaise set himself up at the farthest reaches of Jeremiah's fields, watching the sun fade and the night creep in. The sky was clear as can be, a crisp chill in the air if his visible breath was anything to go off of.

Stars shone brilliantly. Blaise lay between the wheat stalks, hands behind his head, watching the stars as the night grew later still. Hair out, he was surrounded by darkness, enjoying the rare moment of silence and beauty.

Sure, they had stars at the castle. But it was never completely dark. There were always lanterns lit and soldiers marching about, armoured heavily compared to Blaise. There was so much world beyond the castle, and he loved the quarterly outings the King and Queen had the pair of them undertaking, despite knowing full well the reasoning behind it.

After all, he and Pyros were approaching eighteen-hundred. They were well past the age of majority and neither ruler had deemed who would be next in line yet, and it was coming up fast. It was obvious to him that they were trying to keep the two of them out of the way of their decision making. Especially with how Pyros kept asking. And how he himself kept not asking. In fact, Blaise was avoiding the topic entirely. It was clear as the night sky to him that they'd been sent out to give the King and Queen a break, or to test the pair of them, or maybe even both.

He tried not to think about it too much; tried not to bring it up. Pyros got all weird about it, and he'd missed his brother lately. See, going into the advanced studies with the Queen had been...

Intense.

Yeah.

It was intense.

Pyros had doubled down his already double-downed practise and study routine and they didn't get to hang out as often anymore. Not until they'd been assigned to do these outings. And Pyros had been all weird at first, but as their time out grew, his weirdness seemed to disappear, and things felt almost normal which was a very nice change as things were feeling very not normal back at the castle as of late and Blaise Did Not Care For It.

Deep breaths, he told himself. We're not home right now. We're out and about. Just enjoy the night. And also maybe keep an ear out, like you told Jeremiah you would.

His breathing evened out (he hadn't even realized it'd started speeding up) and he cast his gaze back up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle as the planet turned, the cosmic dust coming into view high above him. He sighed, smiling up at the sky, when suddenly a pale, round face obstructed his view, white tendrils of hair framing her flushed cheeks, blue eyes lit up.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"It just got even prettier, if you'll believe it."

She snorted, her head snapping back up—but not before Blaise caught the silly little grin. With one of his own, he sat up, staring up at the season before him.

"Ever the flatterer."

"You love it."

"I don't recall saying that."

Blaise smirked, bringing up a knee. He rested his elbow on it, holding his head in his hand. "You don't need to."

A delicate hand came up, blocking her mouth as she let out a little laugh.

Armour clanking, Blaise stood up, blinking briefly when he realized she was a lot farther down than he remembered.

"Why are you so small?"

She snorted. "I believe it's because you have gotten tall. Er. Still. I'm going to throw out my neck at the rate you're going, Blaise—er, your highness."

"No need for that! It's just us, Winter."

"Oh! Good! In that case!" She shifted, adopting her regal stance, folding her hands in front of her dress. "Blaise. What on Earth are you doing laying in the fields this far east and this late at night?!"

"Waiting for you, actually."

The Season flushed, her posture relaxing. "Oh! That's sweet. Unless I'm in trouble, of course." She paused for a moment, curiosity overtaking the flush. "You'd sneak out for me?"

"I mean, if you asked, probably! But I'm not sneaking around. It's, uh, the quarterly check in."

"Already?"

"Well, it has been three months since the last one."

"Good heavens. Time certainly flies, doesn't it?"

"It would seem so, but you know, I've never asked. Does he?"

"You know, I'm not quite sure! I've never thought to ask either. Perhaps Mother knows?"

"Maybe. You should ask her."

"I'll forward that to management. Right! Now then! You haven't answered my question. What are you doing laid out in the fields this late at night?"

"Waiting for you."

She blinked, dumbstruck. "You were serious?"

"Well, yeah!" Blaise chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, sparks trailing behind him as it lit up. He took a moment to admire the way the firelight played on her face. There were angles at play, breaking through the childhood roundness. He wasn't the only one who'd grown, it seemed.

"Blaise? Earth to his highness? You there?"

"Yes! Right." He cleared his throat. "Jeremiah—the tenant who lives here? He had a bit of a concern he brought up earlier today when we rolled into town. Apparently his crops are frosting over every night, and though it melts during the day, he's concerned about the long term exposure effects. He thought it was you doing it. Says you've been stopping by every night?"

"Indeed I have! But not for the reason he thinks. Actually, this is great timing because I have a concern to raise with you."

"Oh?"

"It's about Jeremiah's crops. They're frosting over!"

Blaise snorted. "You don't say?"

She nodded, giggling quietly to herself. "Come along, your highness. I'll show you. Right this way!" And without waiting for him to reply, Winter grabbed his hand and led (dragged) him to the corner of the field Jeremiah had pointed out earlier that day. She pulled him down, the pair squatting in the stalks, staring at the wheat. She let go, keeping her hands above her shoulders and maintaining eye contact. "See how my hands are way up here?"

Blaise nodded.

"Right. Well. Look at the wheat."

Blaise did, and immediately found himself frowning as frost crept over the sheaths, tickling the very tops of the plants and settling in for the night. It stretched on, right through the entirety of the field. He glanced back over at Winter: hands still up; no obvious magical signature showing. He felt the magic in the air around them. Her magical signature was not pulling at the threads.

It wasn't her.

"So that shouldn't be doing that."

"What's worse is it won't listen to me."

"What?"

"Watch."

Winter stood up, the heads of the wheat tickling her elbows. Her hands took on a white glow as she pulled them back, and the frost stayed perfectly comfortable on the spikes of the wheat. She gestured towards it violently, the white glow gone, the most frustrated pout on her face. "See?"

"That's really weird. I thought all frost and snow and wintry stuff listened to you?"

"Ah, but even we seasons have our limits. Sometimes nature takes its course and we let it do so. Mother Nature says that perhaps this is one of those times; perhaps nature is trying to tell us something."

"So why doesn't she just tell you straight up?"

"I think she's using it as a lesson. Anyway, I've started my nightly rounds here every day for the past few weeks, trying to see if I can make the frost go away, but nothing I do seems to work! So I looked closely at the pattern, and though the frost is mirroring the shapes of the wheat, there's a slight little group of curls that look quite similar to the pattern that usually resides within the frost in the Snowy Lands to the North of here."

"But it would only be doing that if the crops were on Northern holdings."

"Precisely. I think the current land holder is committing a spot of encroachment. I haven't had a chance to look further into it, but given the facts..."

"It seems likely the land Jerry's using for this year's harvest is actually in the North and not the East."

"Exactly. And I don't think Jerry knows this! I think the Lord here is trying to keep it on the down low." She squinted for a moment. "Leo? Zeo? Neo! That's the one. Bit of a prick, if I recall correctly."

Blaise snorted. "Checks out. He's always complaining about his holdings when we host court." Blaise rubbed his chin. "If he's trying to gain more land, he'll want to do it quietly and carefully. The royal surveyors are the best at their jobs. It would take quite a bit to trick them."

"Precisely. And! We are fairly close to the border right now! The town beyond here is a hub where denizens from both the North and East meet up, do business, and so on. If you played your pieces right, it could be a fairly easy point to start growing your holdings illicitly. Especially since the North is so sparsely populated."

Blaise continued to rub his chin. "That's a hefty accusation."

"Indeed. But it has merit. If you look at the other half of the field, the one that's closer to his farmstead, the crops there are all fine. Not a single bit of frost on there."

"Hmm. Interesting." Blaise stopped rubbing his chin. "I suppose I should go take a look." He smiled softly at her and held out an arm. "Walk with me?"

Winter blinked up at him in surprise. "Oh! Ah, certainly."

She carefully grabbed his arm, her cool touch frosting the burnished metal of his armour. Careful to weave between the rows (least they accidentally crush the wheat), they made their way over to the other side of the fields, where sure enough, not a smidgen of frost graced the stalks.

"See?"

"Huh. That's...okay. I mean. It's not okay, obviously, but I didn't think "land stealing conspiracy" would be on the list this fast."

"But you expected it?"

"It wouldn't of surprised me. At any rate, I'll have to work on this after the check in." He rubbed his chin again. "And I'll have to figure something out for the short term."

"Perhaps, in the interim, there's something I can do to help? I'm sure one of my sisters can move the wheat consequence free while you get this sorted. This way Jeremiah doesn't have any loss? Lady knows what Neo would do if he knew we were on to him."

Blaise's hand stilled. "Oh? You think your sisters would be able to do that?"

"Oh, please. They have this very strange soft spot for me. They would quite literally do anything for me."

"Even Spring?"

"...sometimes. And if not, I can be, ah, very persuasive."

Blaise laughed. "I believe it. Are you feeling okay?"

"Quite all right. Why do you ask?"

"Your hair is melting."

She flushed, her free hand reaching up and touching her very thawed roots. "Oh! Well. That happens sometimes."

"Oh?"

"Yours is literally on fire. And I've been near you for a good moment now."

"I see," Blaise replied. (He did not, in fact, see).

"I'm sure you do. Now, you don't think it's too late to talk to Jeremiah, do you? I'd like to apologize to him and let him know one of us seasons will be on it post haste. He and his family are probably asleep, though, aren't they?"

"We'll go take a gander. He said he'd been seeing you these past few nights, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was still up."

"Very well." Winter tightened her hold on his arm. "Lead the way."

Seconds after they came into view of the small house, Jeremiah popped out the back door, clicking it shut quietly behind him, candle in his hand. "Your Highness! And Your Snowiness!" Frazzled, he bowed twice, his hair nearly catching fire.

"Oh, no need for formality, really. It's much too late in the night for that. And pardon my intrusion. I hope I didn't wake you?"

"No, of course not your, uh. Season-y-ness."

"Just Winter is fine, please. Don't fret. Sorry for the crop fright. I've touched base with Prince Blaise," she gestured towards him, as though her hand wasn't still looped around his arm. "And we think we've figured out the issue. It's all a little hush hush right now, and we'd both appreciate your discretion."

"Of course. Whatever you need."

"Now! In the interim! About your crops! Unfortunately I cannot control the frost that seems to have made itself cozy in your fields. But! My sisters can control the wheat! I'll talk to them and we'll be by in the next week or so to move the crops over to a portion of land that is not being assailed by frost."

"Oh, well, that sounds nice and all, but the unplanted fields are to remain fallow this year, y'know, to replenish the soil and the. And the like." He scratched the top of his head nervously.

"Oh, I'm familiar with the idea, yes. Of course, my sisters are more well versed in it and my mother is, of course, the expert. We can take care of replenishing the soil just this once while we work on the frosty problem back there."

"Really?"

"Of course! Our duty is to maintain balance and help the people, sir. You are one of those people."

"But I'm just a farmer—"

"Ah, pish posh! You are a denizen of Crystal Springs same as any of us, castes be damned."

Blaise guffawed. Jeremiah blanched.

"Does that work for you, Jeremiah? And would your highness be alright with this arrangement?"

"I believe Jeremiah's fields actually supply the castle, too, so yes, absolutely. This'll give me some time to confer with the King and Queen and see if we can get to the bottom of the land issue."

"Then that's settled! Jeremiah, I will be in touch. You best be off now. It's late and you have kids, do you not?"

"Yes ma'am. Two. Very little, quite rambunctious. Give the wife and I a run for our money some days."

Winter laughed. "Then you best be getting some rest. Worry not." She placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "The Seasons and I will take care of your crop issue, okay?"

He nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yes ma'am."

"And really, just Winter is fine. Now then! Off you go!"

Nodding once more, Jeremiah turned around, letting out a proper yawn as he made his way back inside the house. The pair waited for a moment until the final light glowing in the back of the house went out.

Winter hummed. "That takes care of that, then."

"You are a very impressive woman. Have I ever told you that?"

"Haven't the foggiest," she lied, smiling up at him coyly. "I do apologize for taking charge there, ah, your highness."

"Pfft. Don't! Please. I…it’s nice to not have to be all formal and what have you. Can I escort you anywhere?"

"No, I best be off. I've only just started my rounds, you know! There's a whole half of the globe waiting for me tonight beyond these healing waters."

"Globe?"

"Yes. My job takes me all over it, Blaise."

"Huh. I guess it would, wouldn't it? I just...I never really thought about it, you know?"

Winter watched as Blaise looked thoughtful. Smiling to herself, she let out another little hum, tugging on the arm she still held captive. "Perhaps I can escort you to your lodgings for the night?"

"Oh, no need! But I'd ah, appreciate the fine company on the walk."

"Lead the way, then. And do elaborate, if you please."

"Elaborate? How?"

"You've never thought of the world beyond Crystal Springs? Ever? At all?"

They took the path that Pyros had trodden hours earlier, heading straight into the heart of the town instead of hanging the left to the tall purple tower in the distance, where the windows glowed with light, magic sparking right out the chimney. The Royal Guard patrolled the street, local guards in tow the closer they got to the centre.

"No. Never."

"Not ever?"

"Well...okay, maybe I'm a bit of a liar. I have thought about it. But I've been taught all my life that it's unsafe, y'know? As most of the people are taught. That ordibeings would hunt us for our magic again the moment we left the safety of the Springs. So I try not to think about it, and I try to enjoy the cross-continent trip here every time we're sent out. It's nice to remember that there are places, beautiful places that exist outside the castle walls. To remember why Pyros and I are doing what we're doing."

"And even more beautiful places exist outside the continent! Beyond the oceans and the icebergs. There are a whole different set of stars on the other side of the globe at night! It's amazing. It's beautiful."

"And dangerous."

"Sometimes, yes. But not as bad as it was during the Wild Magic era. Most ordibeings have their own set of beliefs and their own versions of magic; they don't really need ours. Oh, they have stories, of course. But to them, they are simply stories and I'd wager that were we to venture out of Crystal Springs...we'd be okay. I mean, my sisters and I are! So is my Mother, and we're out of the continent nightly practically! And the Legendary Figures, they're all quite all right, the ones who roam about."

"Yeah, but they're Legendary Figures!"

"So?"

"I mean...they have more power at their disposal; they don't need to worry when they go out. But we do. That's why we were brought here, right?"

"So the history books say. But that's the thing, Blaise. It's history. We're very stuck in some ancient ways here, when you think about it, and I know you do."

He was silent as they approached a cozy main street, taverns and inns still lit up for the night, though the music had ebbed and silence had descended.

"Look, Blaise. I go beyond the Springs and I'm not a Legendary Figure."

"But you're a season."

"And technically, so are you, you know. We're the same type of sprite! Seasonal as opposed to elemental."

"I know, but I wouldn't want to step on Summer's toes. I wouldn't be allowed to."

"Says who?"

"Who do you think?"

Winter scoffed. "Ah, they're old. Very stuck in the old ways. Sometimes I think that's a bad thing."

"...Sometimes I think so, too. I mean. Mom and Dad are all about power and they interlink it with safety all the time! And when we're out here, I don't have to think about all that! And Pyros stops thinking about it too and it's kinda nice, you know? I mean, they've been here and in power for thousands of years. To think the world is still the same is...insane!"

Winter laughed. "Tell me something, Blaise. Would you still sneak out for me?"

Blaise blinked. "Oh. Most definitely. Between you and me, your snowiness," he leaned in, close to her ear. "I hate being in the fucking castle all the time."

Winter laughed. "I can't believe the magic let you get away with that!"

"I'm that passionate about it! That's why I love these outings so much! I'm not in the castle and," they came to a stop, Blaise spinning her about as the guards in front of the nicest inn in the sector stood to attention and dutifully looked away. "I get to see lovely people like you."

"Well, maybe you should accompany me out one of these days."

"Out like out out? Like out there?"

Understanding the sudden need for less words, Winter nodded. "Oh yes."

Blaise paused, fighting back a grin. "I think I'd like that. A lot."

"Oh, brilliant!" Clearing her throat as the guards shifted, Winter stepped back. "Thank you for the escort, your highness," she said, dutifully casting her eyes down and curtsying most graciously.

"Of course, your snowiness. It was my pleasure," he replied, placing his arm across his chest and bowing back. "Be safe tonight."

"Of course. And good luck on your travels."

Nodding at one another (and biting back grins something fierce), Blaise watched as Winter turned on her heel expertly, fully thawed tresses bouncing about. She nodded most graciously to the royal guards (the few that had been giving the Prince a moment of privacy as best as they could clanking as they stood to attention, scrambling to salute) and disappeared on the spot, the smattering of snowflakes left in her wake drifting down his way.

He gazed goofily up the street, maybe for a bit too long, only coming to his senses when one of the guards beside him cleared his throat. Straightening up, he waved (the guards happily standing down) and walked up the path and into the inn as regal and posh as possible, only dropping the act and grinning to himself when he closed the door to the inn shut behind him.

"And at what time do you think this is? And looking like THAT?!?!? And WHAT is IN your ARMOUR?!!"

Blaise frowned in quite the over-dramatically grotesque manner, one eye squinting in distaste as he plucked a tiny bit of wheat out of his couter. He held it up in front of him, Marv an angry purple blur behind it.

"It would appear to be wheat, Marv."

"And why is there wheat in your armour?"

"Because I was doing my do diligence and investigating a wheat problem in the fields."

"Hmm." Folding a napkin, he got up gracefully, surveying the prince with an unamused look. "And are you sure you acquired it like that? And not, per chance, tousling around in fields with a certain high ranking season?"

Blaise glowered. His hair burnt taller and hotter. He flicked the wheat away, approaching Marv at his full height. "I would appreciate it, Marvin, if you would refrain from using such crude language when talking about any of the seasons."

"And I would appreciate it if you made it easy to be your steward."

Blaise rolled his eyes, hair dimming. "I'm not the one you should worry about, Marv." He stepped around the drow, heading towards the stairs. "You and I both know that." He paused by Marv's table, grabbing a bun from the small bowl of bread in front of him. "You're not staying up to wait for him, are you?"

"Indeed I am."

Blaise snorted, half chewed bread going flying. "He's not coming back here for the night."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He'll spend the night with the castor."

"No he will not."

"Yes he will." Blaise spun on his heel, clanking up the first two steps. "So you MIGHT AS WELL get some sleep. You're so grouchy when you don't."

Marv's undignified yell gave Blaise great satisfaction as he bounded up the stairs, polishing off his pilfered bread and ducking into his room (one of two heavily guarded doors). He chuckled to himself, throwing off the armour (the burnished metal casually floating itself into a neat pile) and the layers underneath until he was left in nothing but his briefs. He slid into bed, arms behind his head as he thought of the world outside the healing waters and well beyond the floating icebergs.

---

The morning dawned bright and early, as it was wont to do in the early fall. Outside, the grass was crisp; a fresh layer of frost slowly melting as the sunlight hit it.

Up and at 'em and fully armoured once more, Blaise bounded down the stairs, barely able to withhold his snort when he saw Marv snoring at his table, head on his arms. Carefully, he pried a napkin out from under the bread basket, conjuring a pencil and writing something down very fast. Satisfied, the pencil disappeared and Blaise crumpled the napkin in his fist, sliding up to the counter top and clearing his throat.

Marv shot up. "Gah! Your Highness!"

"Morning Marv! I guess he didn't come in last night, huh?"

Marv cleared his throat, stepping up and righting his table. With a wave of his hand, his robes straightened themselves out, his hair looking less bedhead-y and nice and neat. "I am…unsure."

"Mm. That checks out. Ah! Tilly!"

The barkeep let out a meep, rushing to curtsy. "How can I help ya, your highness?"

"I was just wondering if there was a washroom I could use down here." He glanced over at Marv surreptitiously. The Drow was distracted, talking to Kira, the chief of security. With a flick of his wrist, Blaise slid the crumpled napkin towards the barkeep, glancing down at it and back up at her.

Catching his gaze, she reached out and uncrumpled the napkin. Her eyes skimmed the words quickly, brightening as she finished reading the hastily scrawled message. "Ah! Of course! It's just behind the staircase! There's a hallway. Make a right, and it'll be right on the end."

Blaise grinned. "Thank you, Tilly."

She bobbed her head. "Of course!"

Chuckling to himself, Blaise grabbed the crumpled up napkin, crushing it up in his palm and reducing it to ash. He followed her instructions, grinning when he turned the corner and sure enough, there was the back exit, door wide open as staff brought in the groceries for the day.

Excusing himself politely, Blaise scrambled around the staff, ignoring the scrambly bobs as he looked up and down the street for any sign of his counterpart.

There was none.

Avoiding the front of the inn, Blaise put out his hair, blending in with the crowd as best as he could and reaching out with his mind.

He was close. Just coming down the path and turning towards the main street.

Blaise rushed past the taverns, turning up the street (briefly skidding), relieved when he saw Pyros coming down the path. His gaze was intensely focused on an object in his palm as he headed down the way, looking very, very dishevelled.

Hey. Hey. Hey. Look up.

Blinking, Pyros looked up, making eye contact with Blaise, who was grinning maniacally and waving boisterously, in Pyros's very humble opinion.

I didn't realize you could wave as loud as you could speak.

Blaise laughed, bounding up the street and coming to a stop beside Pyros, turning on his heel and falling into step. I am a sprite of many talents! He smirked, his hair lighting up with a soft whoosh. We have a problem.

We do?

Well, you do. Blaise cleared his throat, pointing to the bottom corner of his own mouth. "You got something there. What is that, Jam? Jelly? Ketchup? Dye?!"

"I've yet to wash up. Figured I could do that in whatever rooms Marvin secured for us and have a nice breakfast before getting down to business."

"Not to be confused with the business you have obviously already gotten down to."

Pyros glanced down at his outfit. It was...wrinkled; dishevelled. The, uh...dye (lip paint. It was 100% lip paint) was smudged on his face AND his hands, he realized, and Lady only knew where else! His outfit was covered in magical residue and glitter that seemed very not magical. "Okay, and? What's your point?"

"Marv knows you didn't come in last night. Your royal hinny is screwed and not in the fun way I imagine it to have been last night."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't imagine my royal hinny in any capacity whatsoever."

Blaise snickered. "It's not literal."

"Good."

"Thankfully! My royal hinny is very clever and very suave and snuck out to intercept you which thank the LADY I did because voila!" Blaise snapped his fingers, and Pyros was suddenly looking as pristine as he would've had he gone home and done his morning toilette before emerging for the day. "All fixed up, and now it'll simply look like we are walking back to town together, having gotten up to none shenanigans whatsoever last night."

Pyros flashed him a wry smile. "Really? None shenanigans? From you?"

"None whatsoever."

"That'll be the day. And oh, there he is. Right on time."

"Brace yourself. I already had my lecture. He's had all night to think of yours."

"WHERE have you BEEN!" Marv marched down the street, three guards behind him, Kira at his side. "I turn around for one second and you disappear—"

"Very unwise, Blaise."

"And YOU! I leave you alone for a night and you DON'T come HOME?!"

"I was busy!"

"Yeah you were. Grrrr—oof."

Blaise rubbed his stomach as Pyros retracted his arm, standing at full height and looking down his nose at Marvin. "As you were well aware, Marvin, we had a sticky—" (a pause for Blaise's snort and another whack, on the chest this time) "—situation to find a solution for. And since Blaise requested it to be non-lethal, it required a bit of an…intense magical research session."

"You could've sent a letter! A scry, a fireball literally ANYTHING! You are a prince! The both of you! If something happened to either of you that would be very very bad all around."

"Ah, please. We can handle ourselves."

"And if anyone did anything to Blaise short of killing him, they'd give him right back. Ten minutes, tops."

"They'd give you back in five."

"Is that a challenge?!"

"NO! There will be NO challenges of this particular sort!" Marvin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am just looking out for the two of you. And if the both of you MUST mess about in the evenings at least elicit some decorum and for Goddess's sake let me know."

"Mess about?" Pyros raised an eyebrow at Blaise. "None shenanigans, eh?"

"None whatsoever."

"Hm. How's Winter doing?"

"Very well, thanks."

"Lady help me. At LEAST you are presentable, Prince Pyros."

Blaise flashed him a smug look. Pyros sighed. Thank you.

His twin grinned. Anytime.

"Feel better, Marv?"

"There is nothing short of an overnight stay at the springs that could make me feel better."

"We'll add it to the itinerary for you. So! Pyros! How'd it go?"

"Very well! We managed to isolate the sticky bit of the pygmys and extract it from them, reducing them to harmless little fluffy. Things. As for the sticky secretion, Prisma had the delightful idea to isolate it and use it to make a new kind of adhesive. She wants to test it first, so we only have the one at present.” He lifted the object in his hand—an unmarked tube. Also slightly covered in glitter. “She'll be joining us shortly to do just that."

"Where is she now?"

"Placing little sticky absorbing devices across town. This way, should the pygmys start secreting once more, the devices will use the magic we imbued within them to take it right off and store it."

"And the pygmys?"

"Can now bounce around no more harmful than, say, a tumbleweed or Blaise when you wake him up too late in the day."

"Hey!"

"He's right, your highness."

Blaise made an undignified sort of moaning and or groaning sound in his throat. "Whose side are you on here, Marv?"

"Mine. And it is a lonely, fruitless side, let me tell you. Now then. We've much to discuss and itinerary changes to make so, let's go eat and then go about our day. I shall have a setting put out for this castor of yours, Prince Pyros."

"Very good."

"Shall I set one for her snowiness, Prince Blaise?"

Now Pyros grumbled while Blaise held back a snort. "No, no. That, uh, won't be necessary. She'll be coming by at a later date to touch base with the tenant whose fields are frosting over. She's, uh, not joining us for breakfast." He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.

Pyros smirked. “You’d like that though, wouldn’t you.”

“Immensely.”

“Shame we can’t switch.”

“Alas! She is a season, not a talented castor.”

Deciding against chiding the pair of them for their silly little banter, Marvin pressed his fingertips together. "Hmm. Very well. Come along, you two."

Clapping, Marvin set back towards the inn, hands behind his back, head held high. The detachment of guards that had surrounded him now surrounded the Twin Princes, ushering them forward while preventing them from backtracking or making any other attempts to escape and or engage in tomfoolery, as it were. After all, they had a schedule to keep. Rounds to continue on and issues to address. Being behind simply would not do. Not for Blaise, not for Pyros, not for Marv or any other members of the royal detail that'd been sent out to keep the peace, as it were.

---

Days later the Twin Princes found themselves once more shut into their carriage, both boys looking out the window with similar, thoughtful frowns. The carriage rumbled on, rain splattering the rooftop as the sun shone brightly.

Thoughts in faraway places well beyond the sun showery path before them, Blaise let out a melancholy sigh.

"Hmm. That's not good. You're usually rearing to get to the South."

"I do love me a good beach."

Pyros smiled to himself, glancing back out the window. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

He could ask mentally. Didn't even need to ask; could just pop on into his head and figure it out for himself. It's not like he blocked his end of their connection; neither of them did.

But it was a lot more fun to outright ask.

"Hey, Blaise."

"Mm."

"What're you thinking about?"

Success! His twin smiled through the hand pressed onto his face, the severity dropping and revealing the more carefree brother he was used to. "Land disputes. You?"

"Pygmys."

"Pygmys?"

"Pygmys. See, here's the thing." He leaned forward in his seat, hands folded between his knees. "The word pygmy is just that! A word! It usually denotes something smaller than the regular. And they used it to describe those small fluffy things."

"What would you call them instead?"

"Hmm. Don't know. Fluffs? Fuzzes? Fuzzies? Fuzzballs? Furries? Furbies?"

"I don't like that last one."

"Nor do I. Furby sounds like it could be a curse word. Like, a good and proper curse you'd cast, not a cuss word." He paused briefly, taping his nose. "Now, here's the thing. If the word pygmy denotes a smaller version of something, it begs a question."

Blaise dropped his hand from his face, giving Pyros his full, undivided attention. "Go on."

"If these pygmys are called that by the locals simply because they are small, is there a bigger pygmy? A giant pygmy to rule them all? A fuzzball the size of both of us?"

Blaise laughed, a right and proper loud laugh. "Maybe that's why they're so sticky? Maybe it's because they stick together and make a big ol' clump of fuzzball and THAT'S the one fuzzball to rule them all!"

Pyros lit up. "Ou! I didn't even think of that possibility! Now, IF that's the case, where is it? Where does it reside? What does it want? And should we find it?"

"Or will it find us..."

Now Pyros found himself snorting, the pair of them laughing up a storm to out storm the sun shower outside.

The carriage rumbled on, bringing the princes closer and closer to their next stop, their laughter echoing about the entourage. Guards perked up; Blaise's horse whinnied happily, trotting up to the window and trying his best to shove his little head into the carriage with them.

On the covered seat of the carriage, Kira chuckled, elbowing Marvin gently.

"You gotta admit. It's nice to see the two of them getting along and in such high spirits."

"Kira, if I admit that, I am sure it will be my downfall. I have a reputation to keep, you know. Lady only knows what'll happen if I destroy it. All my credit!"

She laughed. "Of course, of course. Goddess forbid."

She looked away, smiling to herself, because even Marvin could not hide the slight smile their jovial (and, quite frankly, very unbecoming of their station, if you asked him) hooting and hollering brought to his face.

#dani speaks #it's funny bc i totally forgot about pygmys being a thing in hp?#i was just picturing a big fluffy thing that looked like the dust mites slash sprites in spirited away?#those lil guys? yeah! also didn't realize they were a word for very small humans! or very small ANYTHING #went on a WHOLE rabbit hole about the derogatory meaning behind it #they can be MULTIPLE things I suppose!#and when i did the research all i heard in my head was pyros being like 'this hints at a larger pygmy' and blaise being like 'lets find it'#and then. i found a place to put it >:)#anyway. idk where this is going but we're gonna fuck around and find out!#dani writes #smile shots #grand tour #crystal springs #cs posting #blinter #twin princes #pre civil war #monarchy era #i have a lot to say about this and will reblog with an AN At Some Point bc my GOD #I HAVE BEEN THINKING. OF MONARCHY ERA CS. HEAVILY WHILE WRITING THIS #anyway! kira is dragonborn for SURE and i think maybe she and marv are an item #not sure if married or just together a la common laws. but i think they are a thing #i am very fond of them #he is v serious and no nonsense and kira is exact opposite #how is she chief of security for the twin princes you ask. well. see #she knows when to be fucking serious #ANYWAY ENJOY! REBLOGGING WITH AN AUTHOR'S NOTE MOMENTARILY!!

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