#give thanks to the man who probably saved dozens of tribes from being wiped completely from history

[capricornsicle]

Tisquantum, taken as a slave by Thomas Hunt, along with 19 other Patuxet and 7 from another tribe, did not return to his homeland by chance, but by his own ingenuity. English recollections of Tisquantum returning describe a somber march through untended fields, empty settlements, and skeletons bleached by the sun.

It’s estimated that 90% of the Native population of “New England” was wiped out by disease, and it came in waves, extending beyond just the Patuxet tribe and annihilating great numbers of Narragansett, a significant enemy of the Wampanoag confederation (the Narragansett is also the tribe my father was), and continually sweeping through Native populations as European colonizers increasingly took the land, saying that God was being favorable by leaving them the established settlements and the numerous graves of the Natives who lived there before they were routinely massacred by disease and by the colonizers themselves.

Tisquantum had a tenuous relationship with the leader of the Wampanoag confederacy, Massasoit, who tended to be more hostile towards Europeans (probably because he had been there while Natives of all kinds were killed in the worst of ways, the only survivors some young and fit people taken into slavery, never to return to their home). After Tisquantum’s death (also by disease), Massasoit was more free to attack colonists, and in the ensuing wars, Europeans proved themselves more disease-carrying and more brutal, seeing children over the age of 7 as adults fit to work (and to fight), willing to massacre entire villages while Natives generally were not.

It is unknown what Tisquantum’s name may have been before he was kidnapped into slavery. I am of mixed Algonquian heritage, member of the Nehiyawak (Cree tribe). We don’t call our children like that. Because the word “tisquantum” is about the rage of the Manitou, the spirit that inhabits all things. The name he chose for himself, to the English who colonized the land, would have meant something more like “wrath of god”.

And as one key figure in a battle his people ultimately lost, a man who prevented an inevitable genocide for years, he sure fucking was.

[bestfriendforhire]

Children of BFFH, Entry 21

 “Finally!” I exclaimed, switching clothes and form the moment we were in the car.  Auntie Brenna had taken me along at the request of her modeling agency, because they were short a boy for a children’s shoot.

 “Was that really so bad?” she asked, smiling at me.

 Nodding, I said, “It’s so restrictive!  I don’t get how everyone does it!  There are so many colors that go better with hair that isn’t red.  I could’ve had a waaay better body for that last outfit… and the one three before it… and…”

 “But that one was what the public knows as my nephew.  They still think I’m incredible at makeup, remember?” she asked, letting Momma Mila do the driving.

 “Sure, I know.  I’ll be stuck with that face on a driver’s license someday.  It’s already on my passport.” I replied glumly.

 “It’s a good face!  You should be thankful you don’t have to look like your dad all the time.” she teased.

 I sighed.  “Nothing’s wrong with how dad looks, but I get tired of people thinking that’s me.  It’s just a face I use.  I’ve even caught Aid thinking of that as being me.  He didn’t admit it, but he does it.”  The thought really made me sad.  I wasn’t my body’s form, and my body didn’t have a single form.

 Auntie Brenna reached an arm around me and hugged me.  “Hey, you don’t have to do this again.  No one will make you.” she insisted.  “Your dad and I experimented with changing our appearance as we grew, but even we have default forms.  You’re unique in the coolest way.  People have trouble understanding things beyond their scope of experiences, so try to be patient.”

 I nodded, hugging her back.  “I don’t mind the job.  Really.  Getting paid is cool.  Most of the other kids haven’t taken jobs for the Boss’ company.”

 “No, they sure haven’t.  What did you think of the other kids at the shoot?” she questioned.

 “Umm… Nice?” I asked, trying to pick something that wasn’t mean.

 Shaking her head and still holding my shoulders, she said, “Be honest.”

 I saw the spell forming and knew what was coming, but I didn’t know how to counter it fast enough.  The spell struck like a thousand feathers tickling my skin, and I could hardly breathe for several seconds from laughing so hard.  During the break, I quickly said, “I give!  They’re terrible at games, but they really can be nice.  They were just a little… stuck up… at first, but being wary of the new kid is normal, right?  Limited experience and all that.”

 “As long as they weren’t trying to pick on you, I’m satisfied.  I’d give the agency an earful if someone gave my favorite… niece?  Nephew?  Child of my brother… a hard time.  The point is that no one gets to pick on you.” she insisted, hugging me again.  Then she brought up Ancient Tribes of Earth for us both, so we could get some game time in on the way to dinner.  We were eating out today, since Chef Marco had a day off.  

 I understood her confusion.  My body was currently feminine with short and spiky, blonde and black hair.  Most people would think there was gel in my hair, but I could simply make it look this way.  My clothes were probably considered masculine, with baggy overalls covering a black turtleneck, but how I was wearing them looked more feminine to me.  Genders were so confusing at times for me.  Why couldn’t people just keep things simple?

 I was me, and there was only one me.  Clothes were made for a shape, and if I could look good in them, why care about anything else?  I always matched my colors, so I wasn’t a “walking eyesore” like Auntie Aaliyah could be at times.  Even then, she enjoyed mismatching, so why did other people care so much?  At home, anything could go, but out here…

 Shuddering without feeling cold, I started wandering the outskirts of Ashengarde City, debating on whether or not to take a quest.  The drive home would take about an hour and a half, but quests could take much longer to complete.  Of course, Bryn Underhill had taken numerous quests before that required multiple game sessions to complete.

 My character’s name made me smile every time I really thought about it.  “Bryn” meant Hill, similar to my dad’s and aunt’s names.  Underhill was our last name, as well as a name used by Frodo Baggins in The Lord of the Rings!  Since dad had wanted me to be “godlike” instead of another “hill” when he begged Mom into naming me as they did, I decided that having a “hill” character would be pretty great.  The best part for me:  Bryn had no gender, despite being a Halfling.  Though you designed what your character looked like, you weren’t forced into selecting a gender or wearing a particular type of clothing in Ancient Tribes of Earth.

 As I looked around for a quest that suited my mood, I debated whether Auntie Brenna had decided to play because she knew of the freedom I felt in this game or because she was just feeding her own addiction.  Possibly both.  My family really was amazing, non-blood ones included.

 Deciding to vent a bit of frustration on evil beings, I took what sounded like a possible “slaughter” quest.  There were reports of a new tribe of goblins causing mischief around a nearby town.  At this part of the quest, I was being paid to investigate the missing goods of the quest giver, a kind merchant whose caravans often traveled between here and there.  Later, I’d probably have to wipe out the tribe or at least kill their chief, assuming the goblins really were the ones who stole the goods.

 “Care to share the quest with me?” asked Auntie Brenna.

 I hadn’t realized she had been watching me play, but I grinned and said, “Sure!”  My character was waaaaay weaker than any of the adults, since their characters had over ten years to evolve.  I knew that didn’t mean the quest would be any easier for me, since the game adjusted quests to the characters, but questing with someone always added even more options.  Questing with one of the adult’s characters meant I was going to be in for a visual treat in seeing how they fight.

 Callan, Auntie Brenna’s character, could use nearly every weapon and had tons of customized spells.  Though she was favoring dual-wielded daggers lately, her longsword was artifact quality with numerous enhancements from Auntie Raine’s shop over the years.  In a fight, she’d flow so smoothly between spells and weapons that I would feel like I was watching Messy or Four in real life.

 Callan caught up with my Bryn while I was still en route to where the caravan had been attacked.  Ten minutes of our journey home was lost to travel in the game, but we managed to kill a few monsters together on the way!  Callan’s ability to field dress creatures was among the top in the entire game, making it exceptionally quick, but the gore was still on another level, seeming like the creatures’ innards all dropped from the body after a quick stroke.  Auntie Brenna had apparently complained about the ickiness of the skill ever since she started playing, but she couldn’t give it up when Auntie Raine’s shop went through materials very quickly.

 The investigation level seemed well above my character when we arrived, since I couldn’t find a single clue without Callan pointing out tracks and giving small narratives about what had happened.  She honestly reminded me of Aragorn from Lord of the Rings.  Surprisingly, there were human footprints that were believed to be assisting the goblins… or the other way around.

 We followed the tracks, eventually reaching a small hole in the ground which had been hidden under a large, hollow rock.  If they could breathe easily in such a place, there was either another exit, someone skilled with air magic, or a cleverly engineered flow system according to Auntie Brenna.  I managed to save Callan from a vicious trap that was made to impale a person on a large spike connected swinging lever, but I doubted that she’d take much damage from it in her armor.

 Eventually reaching a room of drunken, feasting humans and pitiful, abused goblins, we observed for a time before backing away to discuss our plan of attack.  The discussion was fairly brief, really.  Callan would charge in and get everything’s attention by attempting to kill everything in her path, and then Bryn would stealthily pick off enemies from behind.

 The plan worked well for the first minute or so, but then the leader woke up, bellowing out a paralysis effect that poor Bryn failed to resist.  Callan was too busy fighting to make her way to Bryn, so I was helplessly watching when one of the goblins took notice of me, crawling forward to finish Bryn off.  Taking my dagger, the goblin smiled gleefully… before charging one of its human bosses from behind and, stabbing the woman through the back.

 I was so shocked watching the other goblins take up cutlery to attack that I missed when Bryn was free of the paralysis.  Finally noticing, I grabbed a chair and clubbed a man who had started fighting the goblins.  The brawl was intense and crazy, but Callan, Bryn, and a dozen pitiful goblins were the last ones standing.  Bryn couldn’t speak the goblin language yet, so Callan had to translate for my character, but we made a deal to escort them away from human lands before returning to the merchant with the goods we managed to salvage.  All-in-all, the drive home was pretty amazing!