#habit 2 is the psychological warfare

[basuralindo]

[lesser-mook]

The Machine (Pioneer of propaganda: Edward Bernays) *The science of control of the many by the few*

2:15 Notice how they use/weaponize women to push a bad habit & paint a method to shorten your life as a Rights issue.  

When the agenda was profit, not agency of women. 

That's how they manipulate our girls & ladies. They play on their natural altruism/power to assemble into community to fight for what's right through protest and the one's running the show are leading you off a cliff: 

That's modern gynocentrism in a nutshell. Keep women at war with men, keep girls propagandized, keep their ego's radicalized, or fear monger them into being paranoid of men or just hating maleness. 

The goal is destroying women's trust of men. And it doesn't help that corrupt men are working toward the same end from the other side.

When the best interest of both parties is having each other. 

And they (puppetmasters) know it.

"The point of propaganda is to sell you a suggestion and make you believe it was your idea."

Propaganda is science. The cheapest form of warfare; It takes longer for sure but because it's a slow burn, it's that much harder to undo because it's so intimiately integrated. So patient and articulate.

You can't just re-write generations of cemented culture overnight, the people using it know how easy the mind is to break. Especially when an incentive is indulgence, hubris, lust, ego, insecurity, longing, desire, pain, trauma even. 

It is an effective way to bring down a nation without firing a single warhead or expending a single soldier.

Convince the enemy to want their own destruction, trivialize their own livees or "eat each other". (Joker 2008)

Chani in DUNE PART Two is genius misdirection. 

She represents the skeptic who sees the dangers of propaganda, the one going against the grain:

But the point the movie made was she was proven wrong because the propaganda wasn't a lie and the messiah produced results in a matter of days- so her credibility was shaken.

Miracles, a man of works disproved the naysayer, who was technically the only person using her brain. One woman, woman of reason. (RIp, to her friend who also shared her view)

Thus was she wrong because the messiah did come?

No. The overtone is skeptics are not to be trusted because the Messiah/Anti-Christ/Superman/Neo/Lisan Al-Gaib is true.

But Chani was indeed right, the propaganda was and is a means of control despite the fact that the messiah exists, she's still right.

The Fremen "Free-Men" had everything they needed to do exactly what Paul had them do, they didn't need him entirely, but their success rate was increased because of him but their liberation was ultimately in their hands. As Paula alluded to anyway.

The Masses, the little people, the infrastructure have the power. 

Not Big brother, not the giants, but the people making the system work with the sweat of their labor have the power. 

Chani was right.

Point being: Both the propaganda can be right, and be a means of control, a lie to affirm a pacifying effect. Both can exist at the same time.

Propaganda is a sociological weapon for the psychological, it could be used to take humanity further for the goal of good, fortify the wills of the youth instead of planting discord and confusino. 

Train efficient children in a more practical school model, not enable a society where children are not even safe in schools. 

Raise competent girls trained to be self-sufficient yet humble, trained to be accountable, mentored to preserve womanhood. 

Thus resulting in women who are not dependent on the system for empowerment & charity and in fact are a dangerous force because they're not reliant for validation. 

Which is why they will be conditioned to always need it. "GirlBosses" can be controlled. A woman who can carry her own weight is too controversial for the establishment. Hence why we “support all women” until they step out of line of the accepted narrative.

Productive men with their balls still attached, not running away from society & women but welcomed to the fold. Mentored to be stable, humble, responsible, emotionally competent, boys taught that empathy is not a woman thing but a human essential. 

(Sounds heavenly)

 But control or the illusion of it- can be used against people. Peace is boring to some, it's why that very simple model will never be a reality. 

Some feel watching people burn is the way, it's why the traditional family has to be torn down, some believe chaos is the natural order, it's why you're never afforded peace in "peacetime". 

War of the sexes, political wars, race wars, culture wars, always something to keep everyone's eyes in one direction. People must fight.

(That's what Ledgers JOKER represents= Anarchy):

 "I'll show you. When the chips are down, these, ah, "civilized people"? They'll eat each other. "

The attitude being: Humanity & life is trivial. We're a tedious cause because we can be convinced to kill each other anyway or trained to romanticize genocide & violence. 

“Vulgar masses.”

The fact that Joker was proven wrong during the ferry scene isn't the point, it's misdirection. It's the fact that Harvey (A man of power of the system/ A man whom the people honored) proved him right.

It's the fact that Joker was crazy, but had an argument. 

It's not the fact that Thanos lost, it's the fact that he had an argument. He was wrong by means, but the why was right, that's the dangerous part.

The nugget of truth in the insanity is the seed, the argument is the propaganda, that's what it is dangerous. They're right and written to be so.

Through movies, tv shows games, comics, porn, fetishism (which just means obsession, doesn't always mean sex, being a Neet is form of fetishism/ literally just means *ZERO moderation/Doing too much*), books, drugs, addiction to youtube or tiktok, news, everything you see as a child, set into our ways as adults- Distraction.

Power is knowing, if you're distracted, you're least likely to know anything. Sometimes you don't want to know. More willing to give more of oneself & ones time to maintain the fix: Ie. "Minding my business", "Live and let live" 

Apathy is law. Just like the Little Nightmares viewers, compliant and sterilized. Question nothing.

Genius model to condition people to want to remain sleep, aka The Matrix

They know what they're doing, that's why they're on top.

It's why they're called "Elites", not that they're better than you or immortal. 

They know, that's it. They know.

Knowing is enough.

______________

One would reasonably say: "Coincidence, who the fuck puts all that effort in controlling people", "It's just a movie", think about it. Why are all these movies & mass media pushing the exact same thing. 

No matter how many times a show or movie bombs because of a political push, they still push the same viewpoint. Because assaulting you, namely your kids is the goal, YOU will reject it, some won't, but the successors to your generation specifically might even support it. 

Plant seeds in the next generation, the future.

And notice how the macro-companies that own these studios/companies aren't ran by you/us/ the people, normal people but instead upper echelons ran by bloodlines/ people you don't even know exist. People sooooo rich, but sooooo.....to themselves.

Celebrities are the visible "Stars" you see in the sky, but the people that own them, the people that fund them, you never see.

All these Agent Smiths, but we never see the Architect(s).

____________________

If you think it's petty, you're right, it is. If you think it's ridiculous, good, because it is, but the reality remains the same stubborn animal it was 50-100++ years ago.

Questioning this is not discouraged on my part, to question anything takes intelligence, and just because someone talks a lot doesn't mean they know what the fuck they're talking about. 

So by all means, question what I say if it smells funky to you: But all I ask is--- 

#1 **Do Not Ignore it.** Just keep it into consideration.  

#2 Don't stress over it, fear mongering isn't the point of being aware, the point of knowing what's going on with your culture thus you is building an immune defense mechanism to having your mind infiltrated any further.

Don't fear life or your society because aspects of it are designed to take advantage of you, not all of it is. Like going to the dentist isn't some grand plan to install trackers in your jaw, the lore of society is deep, but it's not that deep. 

Don't fear it, just be aware.

_______________________

Example: I watched DUNE PART TWO the first time knowing it was anti-christ propaganda, I didn't clutch my pearls the entire time- I fucking enjoyed the shit outta that film.

I saw it 4 times before March ended while knowing exactly what it was, but I didn't watch it 4 times (or anything I watch) to dissect it or find things wrong with it.

Despite what it is (& no it's not perfect as a film), I watched it that many times because I liked it, you can still enjoy things and know what it is.

And cut some things out of your life because you know what it is. But you have to see and know. "You need to see."

The ability to discern and know the difference, the OPTION to even drop certain things, is control, agency.

 The ability to "know" what it is you're seeing is the point of my or anyone saying anything, not fear: Awareness. The ability to see.

If someone is trying to scare you, they're weaponizing the truth (and sometimes, some people don't mean to their way with words/Internet charisma stats is just not where it should be to deliver the message in the best way possible). 

The true design/purpose of truth is freedom. You have the option to do or don't. Vs just being stuck in NPC mode, just acting on impulse, one way and one way only. Zero agency.

That's what Jamis told Paul: "You need to see.", All seeing Eye.

Thanos had the will to do what felt needed to be done because he had the "curse of knowledge". Not many people know what that truly meeans. 

That's why Oracle was top 3 one of the most powerful Matrix characters, not because she was the mother of the Matrix but she knew. She had "knowing".

___________

***Knowing and seeing are two different things. 

You can see something and not know what it is. You can know what to look for and not see it. 

Knowing what it is you see/ seeing it because you know: Is the point. Balance.

Not fear. Fear is just another means of control.

Can’t live a life if one fears seeing something, living in fear because you know something. That is just self-destructive. 

______________

Otherwise, these cabals are the one's that began the slogan

"Knowledge is power", 

everybody knows the phrase, but not the lore behind it.

It has nothing to do with college or degrees, you know something useless and still be useless. 

It's a taunt.  

They know. NPC's, the uninitiated, the masses: don't know.

Part of the point of the quote is a nod to the initiated, and part of it is irony.

The art of mass persuasion.

[chica-starlight]

Wow! This hit me in all the feels; made me smile and tear up.🥲❤️

To understand a Military Veteran you must know:

1. We left home as teenagers or in our early twenties for an unknown adventure.

2. We loved our country enough to defend it and protect it with our own lives.

3. We said goodbye to friends and family and everything we knew.

4. We learned the basics and then we scattered in the wind to the far corners of the Earth.

5. We found new friends and new family.

6. We became brothers and sisters regardless of color, race or creed.

7. We had plenty of good times, and plenty of bad times.

8. We didn’t get enough sleep.

9. We smoked and drank too much.

10. We picked up both good and bad habits.

11. We worked hard and played harder.

12. We didn’t earn a great wage.

13. We experienced the happiness of mail call and the sadness of missing important events.

14. We didn’t know when, or even if, we were ever going to see home again.

15. We grew up fast, and yet somehow, we never grew up at all.

16. We fought for our freedom, as well as the freedom of others.

17. Some of us saw actual combat, and some of us didn’t.

18. Some of us saw the world, and some of us didn’t.

19. Some of us dealt with physical warfare, most of us dealt with psychological warfare.

20. We have seen and experienced and dealt with things that we can’t fully describe or explain, as not all of our sacrifices were physical.

21. We participated in time honored ceremonies and rituals with each other, strengthening our bonds and camaraderie.

22. We counted on each other to get our job done and sometimes to survive it at all.

23. We have dealt with victory and tragedy.

24. We have celebrated and mourned.

25. We lost a few along the way.

26. When our adventure was over, some of us went back home, some of us started somewhere new and some of us never came home at all.

27. We have told amazing and hilarious stories of our exploits and adventures.

28. We share an unspoken bond with each other, that most people don’t experience, and few will understand.

29. We speak highly of our own branch of service, and poke fun at the other branches.

30. We know however, that, if needed, we will be there for our brothers and sisters and stand together as one, in a heartbeat.

Being a Veteran is something that had to be earned, and it can never be taken away. It has no monetary value, but at the same time it is a priceless gift.

People see a Veteran and they thank them for their service. When we see each other, we give that little upwards head nod, or a slight smile, knowing that we have shared and experienced things that most people have not.

So, from myself to the rest of the veterans out there, I commend and thank you for all that you have done and sacrificed for your country. Try to remember the good times and make peace with the bad times. Share your stories. But most importantly, stand tall and proud, for you have earned the right to be called a Veteran.

(Copied from unknown author)

I’m a VETERAN! Served from 1991-2006

Have a good Veterans Day!

This is how you thank a veteran...

"Thank you for my freedom."

[what-gs-watching]

"It's the things we love most that destroy us."

The other night, I did the last live session for my career bootcamp, and I decided I was gonna take yesterday to myself and just chill out. 

Which led to me seeing an early movie. I honestly enjoy going to the movies by myself, sitting in a mostly empty theater and just getting lost in whatever is going on for a while. I’ve been meaning to go since this ‘hiatus’ started and there hadn’t really been anything enticing enough, but finally I gave in, and went to see

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. 

….Fuck, y’all. I came home and I felt a lot of WAYS about a LOT of things.

I read all of the original books while the movies were coming out. They were lent to me by one of my forever best friend slash favorite coworker - this dude was NOT the type of person to ever, ever read the Hunger Games but he did, and we got into the habit of swapping books and I ran through all of them. It was only fair, I’d made him read The Rum Diaries.

I love dystopian shit. I really do. I think most of us are fascinated with the idea of society breaking down. And also, how much worse it could actually be than it is now. That’s why I loved The Last of Us and Handmaid’s Tale and a million other things. It’s a curiosity. And a comfort, kind of.  Like, things are fucked, but look how much more fucked they could be, aren’t you kind of glad, now? 

So of course I was all in on a villain origin story for The Hunger Games. Who wouldn’t be? 

I’m not really sure what I was expecting. I haven’t read the book yet, I’m so behind on actual reading (has fanfic taken over my life? Yes) but holy HELL. Like, they made this movie and they put it out and they were like “people are terrible, here’s a wonderful example of that. Hope you can stomach it.”

Wherein, a young Coriolanus Snow  tries to mentor a tribute in the 10th annual Hunger Games (whose popularity is waning)  to victory so he can get some desperately needed money for his family and shit spirals incredibly out of control. 

Heartstrings are definitely pulled for Corio, I can’t deny it. He lives with his grandmother and his cousin and their family used to be powerful but his mother died in childbirth and his father was murdered during the rebellion and they show him and the cousin almost starving during that time and I get it. It’s unfortunate. But he gets into the academy and he sees his opportunity to finally get his family back to better footing, and that’s commendable.

He does some dubious shit in the beginning to help his standing - like making suggestions on how they can make the Games more popular again. Suggesting people need to get attached to the tributes, so they’ll be invested in their ultimate fates. That’s some psychological warfare. But also, it makes perfect sense. And it’s so gross. 

Then he gets attached to his tribute, Lucy Gray, and he’s determined to help her live, and of course it’s because if his tribute wins then he’ll supposedly get some prize money, but it also seems like cares about her. Along the way, his friendship with Sejanus, another academy student who is originally from district 2, and who is rightfully absolutely disgusted with the games, grows. Eventually, Corio cheats to help Lucy, even though he’s been explicitly told that cheating will come with terrible consequences. 

And so like, I’m with it so far. You gotta do some unsavory things to survive, we all do, it’s human nature. And that’s really the entire point of the movie but this motherfucker eventually takes it too far.  But he also helps Sejanus when he goes into the arena to try and protest what the fuck is going on, and so it’s like, a balancing act. 

Lucy Gray eventually wins the Hunger Games. I’m not gonna go into how fucked up all the death scenes during the Games are. Or how horrible the one girl is, leading a pack. There’s a lot of ruthlessness but also tenderness and it’s just as terrible  as all of the other Games are, with a lot less finesse. 

Anyway, after she wins, Snow is obviously punished and forced into being a peacekeeper in the districts, and he weasels his way to 12 where he knows Lucy is. And surprise! They fall in love. I am VERY curious to know how he gets away with running off with her all the time, that dude is supposed to be part of the military that shit should not be possible, but whatever. 

Turns out, Sejanus follows Crio to 12 too, and that’s sweet. Sejanus really thinks they’ve got a bond. And maybe they do. But he’s dealing with a fucking psychopath and he doesn’t know it. 

So sweet little Sejanus sees injustices in the district and he wants to help so he starts cavorting with rebels because of course he does, he’s the good guy in this fucking story, and Snow doesn’t approve but he’s also caught up in Lucy Gray and trying to figure out a way to get back to the capital, apparently.

And then it all comes to a head when he follows Sujanus to a secret rebel meeting and Snow ends up killing one of the dudes involved, and then the mayor’s daughter dies too, and tells Lucy and Sujanas no one can know about any of this obviously, and another guy takes the guns that were used and hides them.

The next day the Peacekeepers are obviously intent on finding the guns and hanging the killers. There’s some searching, and then they find one of the rebels involved. THEN we cut to two guys up in the noose, Corio standing guard like a good little keeper, and then they’re pulling SEJANUS up to the platform too and he’s crying for Snow to help him and he just watches and this poor kiddo is unceremoniously snapped at the neck. 

Afterward, Snow makes a plan to run away with Lucy Gray and so they go. Like, he must love her if he’s going to try and escape Panem with her forever? Like, he must be abandoning his family and going for it? He’s abandoning his chance to be sent to 2 for officer training as well, his way back into property society. So he must mean it? 

But when they stop at a cabin to get out of the rain, he discovers the guns they’d used in the murders. And he realizes he can get rid of them for good, and maybe he doesn’t have to escape after all. And Lucy can see the gears working in his mind and she knows he’s already lied to her because he let it slip that he’s killed 3 people and she was like ‘who was the 3rd?’ and I’m thinking the same thing too. And he lies about it. 

So she lies too, says she’s going out to forage some food and when he goes after her, he finds the scarf he gave her on the ground and when he picks it up, a snake she’d planted there bites him. And he loses his shit. He’s carrying the gun he used to kill that rebel and he’s screaming and when he catches a glimpse of her, he shoots. He wants to kill her, she’s a loose end now, just like that. 

Maybe she got away. We never really know. But honestly, in my mind, he got a good bite out of her and she eventually dies. Because it would make sense this asshole ruthlessly kills the one person he worked so hard to help survive, the one person who loved him, just out of self preservation. 

Afterwards, he goes back to 12 and finds out he’s being sent back to the capital. And we need to give ALL the kudos to Viola Davis for her portrayal of Gaul, who was the head gamemaster, and was absolutely out of her everloving mind. She’d been pushing Snow behind the scenes throughout, likely because one fucked up person can recognize another fucked up person with potential. 

So he meets with her, and we find out that he’d slipped information to her about Sejanus’s activities, and that’s why he was strung up. She wants him to attend university and become her protege. And he’s all about it. Sejanus’s family is going to pay his way because he was such a good friend and tried to do right by their kid (jesus christ y’all) and tada! Just like that, his family is restored to the status they expect and they have nice things now and everything is tickety-boo. 

At the end, he meets with Highbottom, the academy’s dean, who has been absolutely not a fan of Snow throughout his exploits. He’d been determined to keep the kid down, and at first you’re like ‘yo what’s your deal?’ but we come to find out that Highbottom had inadvertently invented the Hunger Games as a thought experiment, sharing it with his best friend, Snow’s father. Who took it, and had it implemented. And Highbottom’s been trying to stop it ever since. No wonder he wanted to get rid of Snow. 

Joke’s on him though, he’s hooked up morphling and after Snow leaves, he takes one of the viles that Snow had dumped on his desk, part of Sejanus’s personal effects, and immediately dies. Everyone that could of stopped him, everyone that could have been even vaguely a threat, gone.

And all of this, for what? Power and money? Security, I guess in some twisted way? Because he felt threatened? Did what happened to him turn him into this, or did what happened to him just show him he’s always been this way? 

I wanted a villain origin story and I got it. And I kind of hated it. Because they had me in the first half. Because maybe we all have the propensity to become something so horrific if we’re thrust into just the exactly right set of circumstances. I mean, maybe we don’t, but we could, and I don’t think anyone ever really wants to find out. 

Don’t make me look too close at humanity. That way lies madness. 

The point is: I probably did not need to feel all of that right now. But it was good in a way that makes you angry. And sometimes, life’s just like that. Sometimes snow lands on top. 

Fucking dystopian futures...

[allegra-writes]

"And They Were Roommates" Part II

Lestat De Lioncourt x Louis De Pointe Du Lac

General Audiences

Warnings: None. Crack. Lestat being a little shit. Coffee as a weapon of massive destruction and psychological warfare. Sophisticated methods of mind control and manipulation. Sus!Louis. Emotional slut!Lestat. The Nile as more than just a river in Egypt. Wet dreams. Armand as Lestat’s favorite sleep paralysis demon.

This chaper was written by the incredibly talented @faerywhimsy so you can expect to enjoy this one even more than the last one 😘

MY MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 2: The Saboteur

Lestat had spoken to Alice on campus. Without Daniel around or even being the wiser. Lestat didn’t even go here, but if his mother worked as a senior professor in women’s studies, he would be damned if he was supposed to stay away on one of his afternoons off.

He hadn’t intended to speak to Alice, but when he saw her he recognised her as being from some random party Armand invited Louis to. The expression on Alice’s face that afternoon, however, had been foreboding as fuck.

Lestat hadn’t been able to resist stepping up to her, ostensibly to cheer her up.

A friend in need was, after all, a friend indeed.

Hands in pockets, a tight white shirt showing off trim pectorals, Lestat sauntered up behind his new friend Alice and tapped her lightly on the shoulders.

She spun around quickly, a frown still on her face and it took longer than Lestat expected—even after she looked at him—for it to fade away.

“Oh,” she uttered. “It’s you.”

Lestat did not like that.

You, she said. As though Lestat was merely some mud Alice had found on her shoe. It wasn’t even a nice shoe she was wearing. Faded sneakers with a hole beginning to emerge from one of the toes. And at least Lestat was kind enough to remember her name!

“You seem to be having a bad day,” Lestat said, pouring out both sympathy and charisma as was reserved only for those who had obnoxiously pissed Lestat off. “May I be allowed to buy you a drink?”

He watched as Alice hesitated, as though, and then nodded. Poor college students were always the same. Lestat vividly remembered the time Armand had expressed concern for the poor eating habits he could not help but notice from Daniel. He’d been even more dejected when Daniel claimed he couldn’t afford to eat until the following week.

At least until he’d decided on his own way to ensure Daniel was fed.

Lestat stepped alongside Alice towards a coffee cart and told her she may order anything her little heart desired. While she considered the menu before stepping up to the barista to place said order, Lestat gazed off idly towards the middle distance.

“You know,” Lestat murmured, as they both wandered away together with whipped cream concoctions in both their hands. “I have been surprised to hear how well you put up with Armand.”

He didn’t meet her eyes as the words left his mouth, but he could feel it when Alice turned her head sharply to face him.

“What do you mean?”

Lestat could tell she was doing her best to continue to be polite to him as she asked. He had, after all, just bought her the drink that was still chilling her hands.

“Oh, you know.” Here Lestat made sure to meet Alice’s eyes. Her brow furrowed and she dipped her head to suck on her straw, which Lestat took as express permission to begin to solve the problem that had been plaguing him ever since Armand had realised he desired is housemate. After all, Alice had been so rude to him. “Armand has never been very good at staying on one side of a line. You need to remind Daniel to be firm with his boundaries, if you know what I mean.”

Two birds, one stone.

That was how it started.

 

Lestat was smiling by the time Louis walked into their apartment and saw him sitting on the couch.

“Uh oh,” Louis said. “I know that look. What trouble have you caused?”

“Trouble? Moi?” Lestat’s blond eyebrows all but vanished into his hairline as he portrayed his unwavering innocence.

Louis crossed his arms, not falling for this at all. They had been together far too long for that. “If I wasn’t sure you were up to something before now, I certainly am now.”

He stood there by the doorway, instead of joining Lestat on the couch, wordlessly determined that Lestat would speak before he would get to enjoy his lover’s embrace.

Lestat pouted. “I have only sought to help out our friend, and your ex-lover, Armand.”

“Help him how,” Louis demanded.

“I may have walked into Alice today.”

Louis sagged, though he did take a step closer towards the couch, which was a win for Lestat. “Lestat.”

Lestat’s eyebrows lifted once more. “Mon amour?”

“Don’t you ‘mon amour’ me. I see right through you.”

“You do?” Lestat stood. “And what do you see?” he asked, stepping closer towards Louis, even taking one of Louis’ hands into his own when Louis tried to use it to push Lestat back. Lestat only drew that hand towards his mouth for the lightest of kisses.

It was only later that very same night that a picture of Blade Runner playing on a flat screen made its way to being posted on Armand’s feed. And, if one looked very carefully, one could make out in the reflection of that screen the clear image of Armand and Daniel curled together on a couch.

Lestat smiled. “That was quick,” he murmured under his breath.

Beside him in their bed, Louis looked over his shoulder. There were no secrets between they two after all.

And that was all he was thinking of, at least until Louis said, “Lestat, have you ever asked yourself why you are so invested in Armand’s relationships?”

“Why, because he is your ex-lover, and still a dear friend,” Lestat said.

“Uh huh.”

Lestat inclined his head. Admitting what he had to say next would cast him in a less flattering light, but it seemed clear to him now that Louis would settle for no less than exactly that. “Very well. It is also that Armand has been speaking about Daniel and how they were only roommates for months now. I tire of it, Louis, I tire of it! Armand has harped on about Daniel all the way to my last nerve!”

Louis was still looking at him with those unblinking brown eyes.

Lestat’s mouth twisted. “Also, I may have come across Alice today on campus.”

“Aha,” Louis murmured, without any usual emphasis. Merely a quiet understanding.

Lestat rushed to explain himself. “It was not just Armand on my mind! She was rude to me. Alice.”

“I’m sure she was.” Was that the slightest hint of pity in Louis’ tone now? Lestat hoped it was. It would be far more pleasant to deal with than Louis’ disbelief and pushes to admit to something more.

Simply put, there was no more for Lestat to admit to.

Louis continued to gaze at Lestat for a few moments longer. It was not an amorous look, though Lestat wished it was. Eventually, Louis nodded and began to turn away. “Daniel is a very attractive man,” he said, for all the world as though what Daniel looked like hardly mattered to him.

Yet, if that was so, why on earth would his Louis mention it?

“I suppose…” Lestat said, eying his beloved.

But then there was just the back of Louis’ head on the pillow illuminated by the lamp on Lestat’s side of the bed.

“Louis?” Lestat asked, feeling somewhat at a loss. Louis didn’t reply. “Louis, why would you say that?”

“Say what, Lestat?” Louis asked.

“Why would your last words to me this evening be about Daniel’s attractiveness?” Lestat asked him, huffing just a little bit at the end.

Louis just yawned, not even turning on his side of the bed to come to face him. “Lestat, it is growing late. If you cannot figure out, then I cannot tell you. Perhaps speaking to Armand would be your best route to understanding.” And with that confounding statement, Louis would truly say no more.

Lestat was determined he would do exactly that!

The next day, Lestat checked his socials and found Alice’s relationship status had changed from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘single’. It made him smile, until he remembered his Louis’ words from the night before, and then that smile turned to a frown.

He pushed his phone back into his pocket until it began to ring. Armand’s name flashed across his lock screen and Lestat’s heart jumped.

Then his eyes widened.

He immediately felt the need to speak to Louis.

The front door crashed shut behind him later on that day and Lestat was beyond gladdened that his amour had returned home before him on this night.

“Louis,” Lestat called. “Louis!”

“I am just in here,” Louis said back, stepping out of the bathroom where he’d clearly just come out of the shower, a towel still around his shoulders. “Jeez.”

Lestat felt flushed and flustered, a state that only seemed more obvious to him from the settled, comfortable expression on Louis’ features.

“Armand has invited the two of us around to his and Daniel’s place tonight,” Louis continued while Lestat simply stood there with his mouth half open like a fish. “He said he already called you to say the same.”

Again, that traitorous feeling in his heart. Armand had called Lestat to speak with him before he had called to Louis. What did it mean?

It could mean nothing! He loved Louis and Louis only. Lestat had promised as much after all that nasty business with Antoinette.

“I see,” Lestat said, lowering his head and doing his best to appear unmoved. “And do you wish to go?”

“There’s no reason not to,” Louis answered. “They are our friends, after all.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Unless…” And here Louis paused. “There is something, some reason, you would prefer to stay in instead?”

“Alice changed her relationship status to single!” Lestat blurted out.

This surprised Louis. His eyebrows rose. “Oh, I suppose that’s why Armand’s invited us over. Daniel must be…”

“I am willing to bet with you that Daniel has already been otherwise detained from whatever emotion you believe he must be feeling,” Lestat said, these words too coming out in a rush.

In response to this, Louis’ eyebrows lowered back down. “Lestat? Your continued investment in my ex’s love life is beginning to grow disturbing. ... Why?”

If Louis thought it disturbing already, Lestat could never hope to tell him the truth. Or a version of the truth. Whatever version it was that had his heart trotting along in time with Armand’s attention. It was something that must be tamped down. Something Lestat would never acknowledge.

Lestat forced himself to calm down, gentling his expression into a casual smile. “Oh, it is the same reason I do anything, mon cher. It is the aesthetic. They look so good together. They will make each other happy.”

"I see," said Louis, in much the same tone Lestat had said it just earlier. "So there's no reason we shouldn't go over to see them tonight?"

"Non, not at all, mon coeur." Lestat shook his head and pasted a smile to his face.

It was only that evening, after Louis and Lestat returned from the home Armand and Daniel shared that Lestat was plagued with images of an unspeakable nature.

There was an intensity in Armand's eyes as he gazed at Lestat across the room. Daniel and Louis were talking to one another, completely unaware of the expression on Armand's face. But Lestat was aware. Lestat was keenly aware.

"Does this make you uncomfortable, Lestat?" Armand asked, and his voice was lower, more silky, than Lestat thought he had ever heard it in life.

"N-non," Lestat replied.

This seemed to somehow be the wrong answer to make, because Armand's smile grew wide. Armand had not even touched him yet, but Lestat could feel the flickering effect of Armand's determined attention in areas of his body he could not think about right then.

Louis and Daniel were still both unaware of Armand. How was it possible they remained so unaware?

"Don't worry yourself with Daniel," Armand told him, when he saw Lestat's gaze flickering that way.

"C'est L-Louis," Lestat stuttered.

Armand gave a soft chuckle deep in his throat. "I wouldn't worry about that either. Louis knows me well. Has he ever told you...?"

And then white noise gathered in Lestat's ears, stopping him from hearing whatever information Armand would impart to him, even at the same time as he craved to know it. Lestat even leaned forward, closer to Armand, striving to hear the words that so elluded him.

"... things I would do to you," Armand concluded, and the promise—fractured as it was—in his words made Lestat's toes curl. "Things you would let me do."

And then he reached out to touch his fingertips to Lestat's cheekbone. Lestat knew he had amazing facial structure, and the look on Armand's eyes as he touched him said he appreciated it. Lestat had not even realised he had sat so close. There was just the hint of a carefully manicured nail scratching against his jaw before Armand pulled away. Lestat's lips parted, throat dry. How could he do these things in front of Louis. How could Louis not notice?

Lestat woke up suddenly, his sheets tangled around his legs and feeling so painfully hard that he cringed. Blissfully unaware of it all, in life as in dream, Louis slept on.

"Amour," Lestat whispered to Louis, to himself, alone in the dark.

He had to continue to keep this away from Louis.

How could he continue to keep this away from Louis?

[erinbeast]

Demographics

1. Name: Erin

2. Age: 32

3. Sex/Gender: Agender

4. Ethnicity: American

5. Occupation: Office Coordinator

6. Socioeconomic status: Middle Class

7. Education: Some college (Went for degree in Graphic Design)

8. Other notes:

‍

Physical Appearance

1. Eye color: Green

2. Skin color: Grey/Black/White

3. Hair color: Blonde Blue fluff

4. Height: 5’8”

5. Weight: 130 lb

6. Body type: Slim

7. Fitness level: Good

8. Tattoos: Assassin’s Creed “Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted” on inner forearms, Boo and ShyGuy on right shoulder, Doom insignia on left shoulder, Dead Space marker/Isaac mask on lower left forearm, Cheshire cat on right thigh, Iris flowers on left collarbone, Slipknot S on back of neck, Eyeball Squid on left thigh, Time is Now, Now is Forever on inner wrists.

9. Scars/Birthmarks: Covered in small scars from various accidents and such.

10. Other distinguishing features: Is a lemur

11. Disabilities: ADHD and Bi-Polar

12. Fashion style: Sweater dresses, tight low jeans, boots of all kinds, thigh high socks, crop tops,

13. Accessories: Multiple piercings on face including, Gauged ear lobes, quadruple helix on left ear, industrial in right ear, septum piercing, VCH, two lower lip,

14. Cleanliness/Grooming: Showers everyday, lets hair do whatever it wants.

15. Posture/Gait: Good posture, quick walk

16. Tics: Bounces leg all the time, fidgets(always has figdget toys with them)

17. Coordination (or lack thereof): Average coordination

18. Weaknesses: Stubborn as a mule, minor temper problem, BRAT

19. Other notes:

History

1. Birth date: 19 Dec

2. Place of birth: Hahn, Germany

3. Key family members: Mom

4. Notable events/milestones: Born, raised, went to college, dropped out of college, got job in retail, finally got out of retail

5. Criminal record: None

6. Affiliations: Themselves

7. Skeletons in the closet:

8. Other notes:

Psychological Traits

1. Personality type: Brat, likes to tease and play

2. Personality traits: Stubborn, affectionate, playful, temperamental,

3. Temperament: Certain things (Views on things) tend to rile them up as well as being ignored.

4. Introvert/Extrovert: Introvert

5. Mannerisms: A bit childish

6. Educational background: Finished High school average student, went to college but ultimately burned out/flunked

7. Intelligence: Average, loves learning new things, especially random trivia

8. Self-esteem: High, they love showing off

9. Hobbies: Crafting whether it be painting, string art, origami, drawing, working with resin, or sewing and playing video games of all kinds

10. Skills/talents:

11. Loves: Ruckus Mommy, music, and video games

12. Morals/Virtues: Morally sound, knows right from wrong,

13. Phobias/Fears: Spiders and being abandoned

14. Angered by: Idiots

15. Pet peeves: Chewing loudly, stupidity, assumptions.

16. Obsessed with: Doom, Call of Duty Modern Warfare

17. Routines: None, they are play it by ear

18. Bad habits: Assuming things, picking at scabs and creating scars

19. Desires: Dom

20. Flaws: Slightly quick tempered, bratty

21. Quirks:

22. Favorite sayings: Mine, Mommy please, and No

23. Disabilities: None Physically

24. Secrets: Can lie but pretends to be bad at it

25. Regrets: None so far

26. Accomplishments:

27. Memories: Too many to list

28. Other notes:

Communication

1. Languages known: English, sporadic Spanish and German

2. Preferred communication methods: Text and speech

3. Accent: None

4. Style and pacing of speech: Quick talker, talks too fast sometimes and stumbles over words

5. Pitch: Medium high

6. Laughter: Hehehehehe

7. Smile: Maniac grin or laughter

8. Use of gestures: Uses hands to gesture when talking, hands go everywhere

9. Facial expressions: Can’t keep them quiet enough, their face says it all

10. Verbal expressions:

11. Other notes:

Strengths, Weaknesses, and Abilities

1. Physical strengths: Stamina

2. Physical weaknesses: Strength

3. Intellectual strengths: Art history, random trivia of all kinds

4. Intellectual weaknesses: Math, Science, Geography

5. Interpersonal strengths:

6. Interpersonal weaknesses:

7. Physical abilities: Nothing special

8. Magical abilities: None other than he is a lemur

9. Physical illnesses/conditions: None, Healthy

10. Mental illnesses/conditions: ADHD and Bi-polar depression

11. Other notes:

Relationships

1. Partner(s)/Significant other(s): Ruckus

2. Lover(s): Ruckus

3. Parents/Guardians: None

4. Children: None, he is baby

5. Grandparents: None

6. Grandchildren: None

7. Family: Dead

8. Pets: 6 cats and 1 dog

9. Best friends:

10. Friends: Ryan, Thurry, and Otter

11. Rivals: Themselves

12. Enemies: His own mind

13. Colleagues: Eh

14. Mentors/Teachers: Resents old lit teacher from high school

15. Idols/Role models: None, he doesn’t like comparing himself to others

16. Followers: Ruckus

17. Strangers: They exist, wish they would keep away

18. Non-living things: He likes them, they don’t talk back or argue

19. Clubs/Memberships: Brat Club

20. Social media presence: Tumblr and Twitter, occasionally watches TikTok, not huge on the trends though

21. Public perception of them: They do not care

[cassieloveswhump]

Okay, so fun fact, when I was in third grade, there was this girl in my class. She didn’t have good hygiene, and would constantly lick the places she had ezcema/leave snack crumbs on her desk, and she’d eat in class and misbehave. Except for that. she was actually pretty nice. Third grade me was new to the school and most of my classmates never bothered telling me where the library and computer lab and self study room was but she did, and she’d be willing to partner with me. However the class hated her and would avoid touching her to extreme levels like it’s the plague in Wonder, and the thing is none of the teachers really did a thing to stop it because 1. she wasn’t a straight a model student and 2. she did have a bad habit of being unhygienic. It’s not a valid reason to bully someone like that, but the teachers never stopped it and just told her to wash her hands more, so she transferred. The thing is, there were several people in my class who’d feel bad, including me, but if anyone went near her they’d be treated like they had the plague too. I’m pretty ashamed of this, but I never did dare publicly stand up for her given that my best and only friend hated her and told me I was weird and disgusting to give her a chance. That’s what actual bullying looks like. It’s not black and white. None of the class ever actually shoved her or laughed at her or did the stereotypical bully things in books, but they did create an environment in which she couldn’t befriend or be close to anyone. It sucked. And when she left, I became the new target. Again, there was no getting shoved into lockers or getting my books wrecked or anything stereotypical. One day my friend just ghosted me and acted like I was the plague, and after a while the entire class refused to partner with me for anything. I’d catch some people rolling their eyes when I asked/answered questions in class, and I saw my friend point at me and laugh with a few other classmates once, then immediately run away when I accidentally came close. It took me 4 years and through a friend who felt bad for me to find out that she’d spread rumors about me being manipulative and a delinquent, and she’d say stuff like “ oh I bet you still can’t have a good relationship with (deragatory nickname she knew I hated), but then I suppose that’s impossible even for saints”. Even now I don’t know if I deserved it. That’s what psychological warfare is like. You don’t know if you deserved it, if you made it up, if you’re being insensitive.

no piece of teen media has ever accurately depicted the quiet psychological warfare of bullying. bullies on TV are always dumb brutes and not the evil geniuses of emotional manipulation that they are in real life. being given a wedgie and having your lunch money stolen is nothing in comparison to a classmate quietly creating a taboo against speaking to you that they intend to enforce against all the other kids. it’s nothing like continuous cutting comments from people you thought were being nice to you. that way that the work of one kid can make you feel like every person on earth silently hates you and that you are dirty, disgusting, worthless, creepy and useless. that you can have friends but many of them will not speak to you at school for fear of the social consequences on their end. how that damage lasts in any social setting for the rest of your life

[exorcismdemoncasting]

Fighting Demonic Attacks: Understanding and Overcoming Spiritual Warfare

Throughout history, the concept of battling unseen forces has captured the minds of countless individuals. Whether portrayed in literature, films, or religious texts, the struggle against demonic entities remains a topic of fascination and fear. For many, the phrase fighting demonic attacks represents a deeply personal battle — one that intertwines spiritual, emotional, and psychological realms. This article explores the nature of demonic attacks, their signs, and the steps one can take to combat them effectively. 

Understanding Demonic Attacks 

A demonic attack refers to an experience where individuals feel oppressed, manipulated, or attacked by malevolent spiritual forces. Such encounters are often described as sudden, overwhelming, and unexplainable by conventional means. While skeptics attribute these experiences to psychological conditions or stress, those who believe in spiritual warfare see it as evidence of an unseen battle between good and evil. 

Demonic attacks often manifest in various ways: 

1. Spiritual Oppression: A sense of heaviness or despair without an apparent cause. 

2. Unexplained Fear or Anxiety: Sudden, intense fear or dread, particularly in situations where one feels spiritually vulnerable. 

3. Sleep Disturbances: Sleep paralysis, nightmares, or a feeling of being watched during the night. 

4. Negative Thoughts or Temptations: Intrusive thoughts encouraging harmful behavior or self-doubt. 

5. Physical Manifestations: Some report unexplained illnesses, injuries, or accidents coinciding with spiritual distress. 

The Causes of Demonic Attacks 

In religious and spiritual circles, demonic attacks are often linked to various causes: 

Weak Spiritual Boundaries: A lack of prayer, meditation, or spiritual discipline can leave individuals feeling vulnerable to negative influences. 

Engagement with Occult Practices: Activities like séances, tarot readings, or witchcraft are sometimes believed to invite malevolent forces. 

Unresolved Emotional Trauma: Deep wounds or unresolved anger may act as entry points for oppressive energies. 

Spiritual Growth: Ironically, demonic attacks may occur during periods of spiritual growth, as adversarial forces attempt to hinder progress. 

Fighting Demonic Attacks: Steps to Protect and Overcome 

Fighting demonic attacks requires a multifaceted approach, combining spiritual practices, emotional resilience, and community support. Here are some essential strategies: 

1. Strengthen Your Spiritual Foundation 

Engage in regular practices that nourish the soul. Prayer, meditation, and reading sacred texts can provide clarity, strength, and a sense of protection. For those in Christian traditions, scriptures such as Ephesians 6:10-18 emphasize putting on the "armor of God" to withstand spiritual battles. 

2. Seek Divine Assistance 

Call upon the higher power you believe in for guidance and protection. In Christianity, invoking the name of Jesus Christ is often seen as a powerful tool in repelling demonic forces. Other traditions may use chants, mantras, or protective symbols. 

3. Surround Yourself with Positive Energy 

Keep your environment filled with uplifting influences. Listening to inspirational music, practicing gratitude, and fostering relationships with supportive individuals can create a shield against negativity. 

4. Identify and Close Spiritual Gateways 

Examine areas of your life where negativity may have crept in. Avoid practices, relationships, or habits that compromise your emotional or spiritual well-being. 

5. Utilize Physical and Symbolic Protections 

Many traditions advocate using protective objects like crosses, amulets, or holy water to safeguard against spiritual harm. These items act as tangible reminders of faith and protection. 

6. Seek Support from Spiritual Leaders 

Sometimes, fighting demonic attacks requires external assistance. Seek guidance from pastors, priests, or spiritual mentors experienced in spiritual warfare. Many religious communities offer rituals, prayers, or blessings designed to counteract spiritual oppression. 

7. Foster Emotional Resilience 

Address underlying fears, doubts, or emotional wounds that may leave you vulnerable. Therapy, journaling, or support groups can be invaluable in this process.

The Role of Faith and Perseverance 

The journey of fighting demonic attacks is not merely about resisting external forces; it is also a path of personal growth. Faith, whether rooted in religious belief or personal conviction, plays a crucial role. Believing in one’s ability to overcome adversity is a powerful tool in any battle, spiritual or otherwise. 

For many, the process of fighting demonic attacks leads to a stronger connection with their spirituality and a deeper understanding of their purpose. It transforms fear into courage, despair into hope, and vulnerability into strength. 

Conclusion 

Fighting demonic attacks is an experience that challenges the mind, body, and soul. Whether viewed through a spiritual or psychological lens, the strategies for overcoming such attacks revolve around resilience, faith, and proactive measures. By cultivating a strong spiritual foundation, seeking guidance, and fostering positivity, individuals can reclaim their lives from the grip of darkness and walk confidently in the light of peace and strength.  In every struggle, remember: the power to overcome lies not in the absence of conflict but in the unwavering determination to stand firm in the face of adversity.

[art-of-manliness]

Odds & Ends: January 26, 2024

Pumping Iron. A classic docudrama about a subculture — bodybuilding — then in its early and golden era. Pumping Iron, released in 1977, focuses on the 1975 IFBB Mr. Universe and 1975 Mr. Olympia competitions, with a particular emphasis on the showdown between future movie stars Lou Ferrigno and Arnold Schwarzenegger (who’s got charisma and quips to spare). You don’t have to appreciate bodybuilding to appreciate what is really a showcase of the elements of sport and excellence (training, discipline, preparation) and the dynamics of male competition: the mixture of camaraderie and rivalry, physical and psychological warfare, the desire to beat opponents and the ability to admire them, the status-boosting rush of victory and the esteem-crushing agony of defeat. The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey. I first read The Seven Habits of Highly of Effective People back in high school and was blown away by Covey’s ability to create fresh, compelling angles on common sense principles — put first things first; begin with the end in mind — and show how they can be implemented to create a flourishing life. Since then, I’ve re-read The Seven Habits every few years to remind myself of these important fundamentals that I already know but are so easy to lose sight of. My son enjoyed The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens, written by Sean Covey. It takes the seven habits and makes them approachable for teenagers. Listen to our podcast about The Seven Habits with Covey’s son, Stephen M.R. Covey, and read our series about each of the habits. Books and Biceps. Jon Finkel is an author who wrote some guest pieces for AoM over a decade ago. He’s got a newsletter I subscribe to and enjoy called Books & Biceps, where he recommends books that dudes might enjoy, along with some workout motivation. Thanks to Jon’s newsletter, I’ve added a few books to my to-read list.  Blackwing 602 Pencils. You might never have thought that there was a difference between pencils, or that there could ever be one that justified paying more than $2 for each. But you thought wrong, and have evidently not tried Blackwings. I was first introduced to the Blackwing 602 by this weirdly interesting guest article all about pencils that we ran several years ago, and was immediately hooked. Made in Japan, the Blackwing 602 features a soft dark core of graphite encased in fragrant juniper wood. It’s a pleasure to write with and glides across the page (the tagline for the 602 is “half the pressure, twice the speed”). It’ll change your opinion of pencils, and maybe even get you to switch out your pens for them.  Quote of the Week False happiness is like false money; it passes for a time as well as the true, and serves some ordinary occasions; but when it is brought to the touch, we find the lightness and alloy, and feel the loss. —Alexander Pope The post Odds & Ends: January 26, 2024 appeared first on The Art of Manliness. http://dlvr.it/T1x7YY

[redteabaron]

Different anon… Here is the thing though, Drogo/Dany isn’t a parallel to sansan. People who make that comparison either lack severe reading comprehension, which is not surprising for this fandom, or they want to use it to validate sansan. (Tyrion was the older guy Sansa was forced to marry. Dany and Sansa have opposite journeys and their marriages are a part of that.) But sansan’s mirror is Jorah/Dany. Book!Jorah is an older guy who has a creepy obsession with a teenage girl. He dumps his trauma on her, he projects onto her. But he is also her advisor, her confidante early on, his protector. There are also the same BaTB elements sansans love to talk about. She even refers to him as her bear. But he was lusting after her ever since they met and then he assaulted her. He forced himself on her. She is uncomfortable with his actions, but she doesn’t possess the necessary language and she doesn’t understand consent (we know this because of how she frames her relationship with Drogo but also how she expected Lhazareen women to be ok, even be thankful for being married to their rapists, and her dubcon relationship with Irri) so she recontextualize what happened and chastise Jorah for kissing her not because she is a teenager and he shouldn't and she didn’t consent to but because she is his Queen. That's the language she has, so she expresses her discontent, disapproval, rejection with that. Sandor was verbally, psychologically, physically abusive to Sansa but he also occasionally protected her in King’s Landing. He lusted after her, made sexually inappropriate comments to an 11 year old child but he was also the only one in KL to have honest conversations with her. Then he assaulted her, held her at knife point. She was afraid of him kissing her, killing her, she had nightmare about the assault which she clearly registered as a sexual one despite what his fans claim his intentions were. Sansa has a habit of romanticizing/redefining these things. Sansa thinks Arys Oakheart was preferable, that he was kind because he beat her less hard than the other Kingsguard. She remembers Tyrion as someone who were kind to her, someone better than Joffrey even though he molested her and she had him in her nightmares too. She separates Littlefinger and Petyr in her mind because just like with the other men before him the thought of her sometimes-protector at the same time being her abuser is too much for her. Just like Dany she recontextualizes what the Hound did to her and turns the assault into a song to cope with it.

These two pairings has the same dynamic, the difference is fandom’s response to it. (The slight differences are that Dany had actual amiable feelings for Jorah -not romantic love or sexual feelings but friendly, sisterly love for him- and she as a Queen had a lot more agency than Sansa as a prisoner had. She isn't as powerless as Sansa, she could have easily banished him, punished him, even ordered his death.) But no one in fandom writes essay after essay why and how could and should Jorah and Dany end up together. It’s an outrageous suggestion. Dany is a main character, she is the heroine. She is a Queen. Why should she ever end up with someone as lowly as Jorah? Someone as old, as ugly as Jorah? But Sansa, meh she is not an important character. And she needs to be punished, first because she was a child making childish mistakes. Secondly, she is shallow, she refused to be raped by her older, ugly husband. So she needs to end up with an older ugly guy to humble her. Even when the author expressed his distaste of the trope of a noble girl running away with a lowly guy in medieval stories, nah that doesn’t matter here. Sansa being of high nobility, a princess won’t have any factor at all who she’s gonna end up with. They had to keep assuring themselves that she is not a main character so she could even end up with a villainous character, that she is not a Stark so she could end up with people who hurt/fight against her family. The hypocrisy of this fandom, and their selective reading is most clear when it comes to these two “couples”. Almost all sansans (whether it is the actual shippers or those who think it’ll happen because well it’s Sansa what else she’s gonna do besides being a reward bride for some hideous guy) hate Jorah/Dany (as they should) while trying to justify how and why Sansa should end up with the hound. Let's forget the abuse and pedophile, let's assume those never happened, even then it makes no sense. There is not a narratively satisfying way, a logical reason how Sansa could be with Sandor. But they ignore all that because it doesn't fit in with their vision, with their interpretation of the books and characters. Because admitting Sansa is a main character and more than a reward for their pedo fave has a ripple affect, it challenges all their theories, they all crumble. And they just can't let go of their 2 decades old theories, they just have to be right, they must be right. That's why they all took the show's ending as a personal offense, especially the QiTN Sansa. I just can't wait for the books!

Yeah, agreed. jorah and sandor are mirrors of each other. I mean I hope they both die without any glory or honor, personally. I don't really care if they have sacrificial deaths for the greater good - or whatever framing the show had intended - jorah and sandor were also whitewashed and made more pitiable/likeable.

Whenever dany x dr*go is used to validate literally ANY pairing, I am suspish. In particular when we acknowledge that dany absolutely couldn't consent - she was 13 iirc - and was sold off by her abusive brother to a man twice her age, but Sansa reimagining her trauma about Sandor's assault to something less traumatic is considered being hateful to Sandor because he's unattractive. (And I never really listen whenever ppl give me shit or deny it was assault; pertaining to my job, I'm pretty fucking aware what assault or intention-to-assault looks like, and I think most ppl do to, they just seem to lose awareness when it comes to their ships or certain characters).

I think it has to do with Sansa being the archetypal "Pretty Popular Girl" - the one who like feminine things, sort of fussy, likes feminine colors and just in general is feminine. She seems to remind people of the classic mean popular girl we saw popularized in 1990s-2000s high school movies - the one who gets her comeuppance in the end when the non-feminine girl somehow triumphs in whatever way, or she's the one who learns her lesson and stops being quite so feminine, or hooks up with a most-popular guy. The Mean/Pretty Popular girl has to be humbled in some fashion. Fans who don't like her, tend to view this as a way for her to pay for the error of her ways.

Like being a prisoner of war. Or not wanting to fuck tyrion. Or not wanting to run away with sandor.

I mean...all of asoiaf, beyond the politics and magic, is all about trauma and the human response to it - which is varied and depends on circumstances, personalities, and a lot of other things. One of the more vile things GOT did was whitewash jorah and tyrion the way they did imo. Jorah was a predator, circling Dany, regardless of whether she thought of him fondly, he just happened to not be violent towards her - she cries when he forces a kiss on her. Tyrion was a predator who molested her when he acknowledged she was a child "but he wanted her anyway". I've seen a lot of ppl react more sympathetically towards Dany. I haven't seen much recrimination against dany for refusing him the way we see sansa being hated for not wanting tyrion or sandor, hell, even petyr.

But - Sansa, imo, in the larger or at least circles of the fandom that have been around longer, is a more ideal whipping girl for the outlet a lot of ppl crave. See again the popular girl trope. She can't fight, she has no magical creatures, she is not a Chosen One of any kind. She has her wits and her ability to observe and adapt who has no choice but to navigate survival surrounded by people who have more agency and power than she does. That's it. I guess in a world of amazing abilities and magic and warfare, this is very boring, particularly when she doesn't weaponize her femininity or sexuality, where she's beautiful without being dangerous or magical or erotic. And I guess ppl feel that because of that, she needs to be punished for not being as extraordinary as she should be, OR, because she was the "Mean Popular Girl" (she wasn't) she must be humbled, and the ones to do it are the ones she refuses.

It's really delicious knowing they don't get "to have her" 🤢. Hopefully they just both fuck off to the ends of the world or die, idc they deserve zero thought.

[kafkaoftherubble]

I agree! Hayase sees sex as her last, and perhaps her most potent, means to exert power when other means are denied to her.

This is particularly because she (alone without the aid of Nokker, at least) cannot kill Fushi.

Nor could she subjugate them through psychological manipulation. When she first met Fushi, the latter was still very alien in alignment. Whatever psychological warfare tactics Hayase had been deftly employing against others depended on her opponents and victims possessing human-like sociality, humanlike ethics and outlook, and humanlike responses—all of which Fushi was very far removed from at the time. It was that ironic lack of humanity that made Fushi even more dangerous and powerful to Hayase because Fushi cannot be subjugated through these ways.

So the one tactic she had left is, as you said, sex!

I disagree that Hayase would see her having sex with Fushi as a form of "pollution" against Fushi's purity, and therefore an infliction of punishment. If anything, I think her character is more likely to see the act as leaving her mark. Claiming ownership.

It's a big deal because Fushi is inhuman, very powerful, and had an air of otherwordly, ineffable dignity to them (of course! They are the Beholder's child in quasi-fragmentation style, after all). Nothing can affirm her dominance and power more than owning Fushi—a mindset mirroring certain sexual politics in the real world.

--

I also wholeheartedly concur that fear has a play in whatever mistaken infatuation Hayase felt for Fushi! Please, allow me to expand on this!

The amygdala, a member of the limbic system in the brain, chiefly regulates fear, anxiety, and aggression. It works closely with the prefrontal cortex, which does higher-order cognition. These two work bi-directionally—they influence each other mutually.

When the amygdala experiences emotions, such as fear, this information is also passed to the frontal cortex [1] which then interprets, searches+/ provides context, and decides what to do as a response [2].

[1] I said "also" because it is passed to the hypothalamus as well.

[2] How effectively the PFC can do this also depends on whether some other autonomic nervous system is being activated. If a person's sympathetic nervous system is activated—the work of the hypothalamus—then the influence of the prefrontal cortex decreases, and much of a person's actions will become less dependant on higher-order reason and cognition and more on their automatic responses, i.e. fight, flight, freeze, fear, fawn, etc. To put it simply: you don't think as straight as you usually do when you panic.)

It's likely that Hayase experienced actual fear and terror on her first few bouts of meeting Fushi and her frontal cortex scrambled to provide context and interpretation for that fear. It might have connected it to another sort of arousal: love. This is called misattribution of arousal, and is a complex interplay of the limbic system (which both the amygdala and the hypothalamus are members of) and the frontal cortex.

Either way, Hayase's mind could very well wrap that fear in a language of power and infatuation, especially since it could then be resolved in the ways she knew best: power plays. And yes, sex is one of its tactics.

In addition to that, the fact that she feared Fushi could also be given a specific context by her PFC's conditioned habit of relating things to power:

"This is what true power looks like. It makes even me cower."

Imagine being someone who's used to a position of power and even relishing in it. Anything that can bolster your power becomes an object of value and desire. In comes Fushi, who her mind quickly interpreted as a source of power, thanks in no small part to the arousal of fear.

And all of these, I think, ended up morphing into her thirst and desire to own Fushi. Then, because Hayase realized she had no way of owning them through her usual methods, she fell back on the one means she believed she still had: sexual domination.

To be fair, she did try other tactics—once Fushi's humanity had developed enough such that like other humans, their happiness had come to be dependable on social connection. It became much clearer to Fushi in the Jananda Arc that they genuinely valued their connection and interaction with March and Parona, and so Hayase exploited that to provoke them. She got a kick out of seeing Fushi angered because it meant she got under their skin, and that was seen as another display of her power over Fushi.

I also think that Hayase enjoyed creeping Fushi out. To me, a lot of her behaviors toward them in the Jananda Arc were her trying to make Fushi fear her too because again, that is another display of power.

You would think that if your intent is to make someone adore you, you wouldn't act the way Hayase did, but Hayase's own deal is predicated on power this whole time. It's why her actions and decisions seem contradicting. Neither Fushi's anger nor fear could sate her actual lust and desire for ownership and dominance, so in the end, she still wanted Fushi to "love" (read: fʌk) her.

---

Ultimately, I think what separates Hayase and her descendants/rebirths is the amount of power lust when it comes to Fushi.

Her granddaughter already displayed little of that^ and the descendants are all implied to be similar, but Kahaku displayed it the least. His infatuation was not rooted in the same source as Hayase's; it was devoid of the whole "I want to own Fushi because it bolsters my power" mindset. Instead, it was... Er... something else?

...Sorry, when it comes to Kahaku's psychology, I'm completely at a loss! Hahaha. This is more of the expertise of, well, the Certified Kahaku Expert!

As for Mizuha... I don't have enough intel on her (I have a huge chunk of the Modern Arc left unread because I'm waiting to check 'em out in anime form. Season 3 when?) to know for sure, but from what I gathered, she did display some element of power play in her interaction with Fushi. I look forward to observing it and comparing it to Hayase's display. It is, however, quite obvious that she's different from Hayase in significant aspects regardless of that "power" issue.

Thank you for reading our ramble!

I don’t really want to write about Hayase and her love for Fushi, naturally she never loved him, this is shown in the manga even PHYSICALLY, of the whole family, only Kahaku and Mizuha felt the feeling of falling in love with Fushi. But what was behind her obsession anyway? She also probably didn’t want a child out of great love. On its cover there is Hayase herself on the throne and a child - she wants power, wants to give birth to Fushi, but Fushi himself is not there. Then, for the first time, she was warped when Fushi scared her wildly, defeating Oniguma. She finally goes crazy when he scares her to death, he tears her body, she screams, wildly contorted in absolute horror, and when we next notice, it becomes clear that her psyche is completely finished. The next time she meets, the first thing she does is lick Fushi and then try to rape him. Could she have "fallen in love" with him after seeing how powerful he was? No, not in the situation when she was screaming in horror with a torn stomach. Then what drove her at the beginning of her obsession? I guess: fear. Did she mistake her fear and horror of Fushi for love for him? Maybe. Or she was simply lying to herself, unable to admit it. Then the attempt at rape, and the attempt at licking, and the attempt at emotional provocations through Parona’s death, all this fits into the desire to “suppress one’s object of fear,” to pollute it with oneself. Sexual violence as a form of oppression fits into this. And this also includes her request to “kill her” - she wants to pollute Fushi with herself. Further, her desire to kill the bodies of Uroy, Miya and Upa for the second time for the sake of Fushi, also comes from the desire to suppress him, to reduce his personality and his independence into her own hands, to make him dependent on himself and obligated to himself. Childish. I'll try to pull this too. A child is understood as the creation of two people, that is, a common child automatically made Fushi equal to her, he “reduced” Fushi to her level. The child was a mixture of their blood and flesh, the highest form of his submission that she could think of.

[yunatheintrovert]

shot through the heart (and you’re to blame) | Chapter 3 [Russell Adler/Female Bell!Reader Soulmate AU]

As you listened to the familiar gradual crescendo of Morning Mood overlap with the regular hiss of your oxygen mask, you looked around the darkly lit interior of the C-130. Red netting that comprised the seats stood out starkly against the dark interior. It was certainly uncomfortable but nothing you haven’t dealt with before. 

Aside from the several MI6 operatives sent as support for the operation, Belikov and Sims were seated next to you while Adler was seated across from you with some files in hand. Although, you didn’t know how he could read them in the darkly lit cabin while also having sunglasses on. 

You almost wished you brought sunglasses like Adler always did. The harsh desert sunlight was going to be quite the shock. But you were never sure how the hell he kept those things on his head. He somehow managed to do that in Cuba. 

Speaking of the man…

“How does he do that?” you asked lowly, well as quietly as you could in the cabin of a C-130 Hercules with an oxygen mask on and a walkman blaring Morning Mood, “I always see him with a cigarette yet he’s doing fine up here.” 

“Doc?” Sims replied before adding, “He knows how to handle hypoxia. Hell, he was one of the first in our unit to go through with HALO jumping in its experimental days.” 

You recalled that from your “memories” of being on Adler’s team in MACV-SOG. That did come up once in a conversation. Although, like everything else that “happened” in Vietnam, it was foggy. 

Truth be told, you were a bit envious. 

Adler could be a chain smoker and take only a quick breather with the oxygen mask while you and the rest of the team had to breathe through an oxygen mask for most of the flight to flush out nitrogen in the body. 

You must have trailed off into your thoughts at one point as you felt an elbow nudge you out of your thoughts. You glanced over at Sims only to notice the very topic of your idle thoughts staring at you. 

You stared at him for several moments before simply blinking. You were too tired and hungry for this especially after Lazar spent a whole 30 minutes talking with Sims about quarter pound burgers...

“Anything I can help you with, sir?” you asked tiredly. You saw his hands move minutely as if he wanted to take a drag from a non-existent cigarette. 

Habit, you thought vaguely. Military plane transport rides must be quite annoying to him since he couldn’t smoke in the military transport. 

“I had a friend in Vietnam,” Adler began abruptly with his voice taking that familiar turn you heard before, “His canopy got tangled after a collision with one of our own during terminal. He ended up in the treetops. Alive though that wasn’t a damn mercy.” 

...Really at this point, you weren’t sure if Adler was conducting psychological warfare on you or not. 

“...that’s uh unfortunate,” you said awkwardly, not quite sure of what exactly to say to that story. 

Especially since the very thought of crashing like Adler’s buddy was something you were trying to keep off your mind. 

You really were just too tired for a sudden story time with Adler, especially since you couldn’t figure out his angle like this. You’ve pulled all-nighters before back in your desk job at Langley but you had caffeine. Coffee had not been offered in the outpost and most of the team was going through caffeine withdrawal...hard. 

Well, Belikov was fine considering how he primarily drank tea in the morning but you and Sims on the other hand...

“I wasn’t finished,” Adler stated before adding as if simply stating a fact, “His radio wasn’t working. He was alone and panicking. You won’t.”

Oh . 

“...Understood.” was all you could quietly say as you turned your head to the side, suddenly finding the cargo box of M16s to be quite interesting. 

Perhaps if you had a heavy dose of caffeine, you’d have come with a more clever response to Adler's apparent vote of confidence or...support? You really didn’t know. 

Things really did seem simpler the last time you were on his team. 

Regardless, as you heard the pilots announce over the intercom about the approach to the drop zone, you couldn’t help but feel steadier. 

It was time. 

Watching in a trance

The crew is certain

Nothing left to chance

All is working

Trying to relax

“Bell, my friend!” Belikov said rather cheerily while adjusting the straps of his harness as if he wasn’t just about to jump from a plane 30,000 ft in the air, “You ready for this?” 

“...You’ll get my life insurance benefits.”

And really that was an answer in and of itself. 

All that earned you was an amused laugh by Belikov and a slap on the back as he cheerily said, “Just aim for the bushes!” 

As you chuckled at his jest, you vaguely noted that your own harness was a little too loose as it had shifted from the simple action. 

Up in the capsule

"Send me up a drink."

Jokes Major Tom

The count goes on...

“There is always the reserve parachute, да?” The light-heartedness in his voice made you couldn’t help but relax minutely. Although, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling that had nagged at you since the start of the plane ride. 

There were numerous possible scenarios where the reserve chute failed that ran through your mind at that moment: mispacking, entanglement of both the main and reserve parachutes, premature activation of the AAD...

And really it wasn’t quite the possibility of death that scared you as much as it was surviving a bad fall and dealing with the injuries...and the health insurance afterwards. 

The medical bills for the gunshot wound courtesy of Adler nearly made you go broke. 

“Well, at least I’ll die to the sound of Major Tom. There’s worse ways to die.” you murmured to yourself with Belikov looking curiously at you. 

But all you did was simply nod at Belikov as you busied yourself with getting the harness properly fitted to your form. 

Like Lazar, the man always had a way of lightening things.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sounding of the alarm. You noticed the light at the ramp turned to yellow for standby. 

The pilots were about to give the go-ahead for the drop. 

As you fell into line with the other operatives of the operation field team on standby near the ramp, you fidgeted with the straps of the oxygen mask on your head as well as the harness before checking the jump bottle attached to your harness. 

“Alright, guys,” Adler curtly said, “You know the drill. Keep the formation tight. I don’t want to see anyone trekking through the desert for miles to get to the satellite site.” 

Somehow, you felt that last bit was directed at you with how the man’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before looking over at the others. 

And you could tell the others felt the same way. The MI6 members were already looking at you as if you were the “problem child” of the group. 

Truthfully, you expected that, considering your rather...notable past even though you could only recall a handful of memories from it at best. 

If there was a bit of a bounce in your step as you lined up with your assigned group formation at the ramp, well you certainly weren’t going to pay no mind to the looks it may garner. 

You were going to be jumping out of an airplane at 30,000 ft while listening to Major Tom. 

Fewer pleasures in life , you told yourself. 

With a beep over the plane’s intercom system and the switch to the green light, the first cracks of painfully bright sunlight streamed into the dark interior of the plane. 

The glare of the desert sun only got more intense as the ramp fully unloaded. You could see the cloudless, clear blue skies and yellow sand dunes being akin to small yellow hills in the distance down below. 

As you followed the MI16 operative in front of you to the now open ramp, you took a deep, steadying breath through your oxygen mask. 

It was time. 

You secured the glasses on your face as you motioned silently with your free hand, signalling the countdown of Major Tom to yourself. 

4

3

2

1-

And on a wing and a prayer, you let yourself just fall .

Earth below us

Drifting, falling

Floating weightless

Calling, calling home…

You could feel your heartbeat thudding in your chest as your stomach dropped. The adrenaline rush was similar to your previous jumps. 

Although, you didn’t quite feel this...giddy. 

Looking down, you read the marked dials of your altimeter at your wrist. 

29,500 ft. 

All you had to do was follow the “leader” or rather navigator in this case and make sure the parachute was deployed. If shit hit the fan, well...there was always your automatic activation device to deploy the main or reserve parachutes. 

You vaguely noticed the sharp hiss of the oxygen mask as you took each and every breath became louder and louder. 

Even as the low music in your headset- secured by your helmet -played the verses of Major Tom , you could still hear the whistling of the wind in your ears. 

“Approaching drop zone.” you heard the navigator’s voice come over the radio. As you listened to the confirmations over the radio by the other operatives, you shook your head idly. The whistling of the wind was triggering the ringing in your ears apparently. 

Second stage is cut, we're now in orbit

Stabilizers up, running perfect

Starting to collect requested data

"What will it effect, when all is done?"

Thinks Major Tom

You looked down at your altimeter yet again only to see a blur of red, orange, and blue at your wrist- 

And suddenly, there was a flash of light before your eyes. 

Back at ground control

There is a problem

"Go to rockets full."

Not responding

"Hello Major Tom

Are you receiving?

Turn the thrusters on

We're standing by."

There's no reply

________________________________________________________________

You vaguely registered the static of the radio in your ears. 

“We’ve got a job to do, Bell-”

“Wake the hell up!”

You blinked. Why the hell was Adler calling you on the radio like that? You had only blinked for a split second-

And then you looked down at your altimeter. 

4,000 ft. 

What...what the hell-

“ Your main chute is fucked, kid. You need to do a cutaway with your hook knife-” Yes...your hook knife. You reached over to the harness straps where you pulled the hook knife out from the pocket there. 

“Yes, good, now cut the lines.”

You blinked. 

There...there were a lot of lines. 

Almost like that of a cat’s cradle game...

“Bell, focus.” 

You were already sawing away at the tangled white lines of your main parachute. They were twisted so at least you sawed several out in one go-

“2,000 ft.” 

“...sir...I uh dropped my hook knife.” you said hazily with a sheepish laugh. 

“Then use your other knife.” 

Oh . 

“Yessir.”

It really was supposed to be simple. But really reaching for the knife in your thigh holster was an awkward affair when falling at terminal velocity. 

You brought your knee closer up to yourself as you reached for the knife. Suddenly, you felt the world spin-

“Bell, you’re going sideways. Get the knife. Now.”

You felt the firm handle of the knife as you quickly brought it up to the lines above you and dragged the edge across the parachute cord lines. 

“1,000 ft. Hurry the fuck up, Bell. Your AAD will deploy at any second now.”

Your AAD...oh fuck . 

How the hell had you forgotten about that...

4, 3, 2, 1 Earth below us Drifting, falling Floating weightless Calling, calling home...

On a hope and prayer, you sliced through the last remaining line and just prayed that the reserve chute wouldn’t get entangled on the main parachute you had just cut away. 

700 ft. 

Belikov , you thought with resignation, I sure hope you get my life insurance benefits . 

And just like that, you felt like a Soviet heavy soldier had just suckerpunched you with a cinderblock. 

Across the stratosphere A final message: "Give my wife my love." Then nothing more

________________________________________________________________

You stared down at the-relatively-solid ground beneath you. The grains of sand were hot to the touch even as you wore gloves. 

Were you dead…?

Suddenly, you felt a hand wrench away the oxygen mask you wore. You looked up into the blazing sun only to squint and see a dark figure.

There was the distinct smell of nicotine and smoke…

“Sir?” you asked only to see a large gloved hand holding a dark grey oxygen mask and shoving it onto your face. 

“Breathe.”

It wasn’t a request. 

You took a deep breath, hearing the hiss of oxygen and finally registering the ending notes of Major Tom . Wait, the next song was about to begin-

You shot to your feet, pulling the mask away from your face and handing it back to Adler. 

“I’m fine,” you swore fervently with a perhaps bit too forced of a smile. 

Sure, you were a bit dazed. 

But that was just the adrenaline working its magic, right? 

You unclipped the bag attached to your waist and quickly got out your XM4 with the magazine loaded and ready after two trusty taps on your helmet. 

“You’re experiencing decompression sickness right now, kid.” Adler sighed. You couldn’t help but wince at that slightly. 

You had disappointed him. Although, you had warned him about your inexperience with HALO jumping. 

“Just do overwatch for the operation at the cliff side.”

You opted to just obediently nod. 

You’d keep overwatch over the site unless the marked targets were secured and destroyed by the marked time designations. 

If that wasn’t the case...well you always had your good ol’ trusty C4 in your bag. 

________________________________________________________________

As it would turn out, things became a shitshow. 

Apparently Perseus supplied their hired DGI soldiers with more aid than expected. The team had come into the site expecting all kinds of things. Assault helicopters, spy planes, artillery-

But not radio jammers . 

Well, there was Plan B…

But you hadn’t seen the signal for it yet. 

And so you turned off your radio, no longer wanting to hear the crackling static of it all. 

Looking down the scope of your XM4 rifle, you decided to finally resume playing your Walkman. 

Sun is shinin' in the sky

There ain't a cloud in sight

It's stopped rainin' everybody's in the play

And don't you know

It's a beautiful new day, hey hey

Humming the merry little tune lightly to yourself, you fired several shots in a short burst through the skull of a DGI soldier emerging from the small canyon where the satellite had crashed. The body crumpled to the ground and you saw a shadow dart away from the entrance to the canyon. That was the tenth one you sniped down so far-

Your thoughts were cut short by the sight of blue smoke contrasting sharply against the yellow sand dunes. 

Plan B it was then , you mused to yourself. 

Runnin' down the avenue

See how the sun shines brightly in the city

On the streets where once was pity

Mr. Blue Sky is living here today, hey hey

Electric Light Orchestra’s Mr. Blue Sky graced your ears under the clear blue skies of Angola as you soon descended down to the canyon floor. Your gloved hands tightly gripped the ropes. 

The last thing you needed was to make another abrupt fall and land on your ass. 

As you let go of the ropes and fell the remaining several feet to the floor, you scanned your surroundings. The rocks to your left were a good cover in case the enemy tried to flank or ambush you. 

Although, you couldn’t afford to play defense at the moment. 

Plant the C4 and get the hell out of dodge, you told yourself. 

Mr. Blue Sky please tell us why

You had to hide away for so long (so long)

Where did we go wrong?

However, even the best laid plans were burned away by the fog of war.

And just as you finally arrived at the designated Zone A of the KH-9 satellite crash site, yours were stomped to pieces by all too familiar steps. 

Well, shiitake . 

It was your worst kind of enemy.

A Heavy.

Now, you could just waste an entire magazine trying to shoot that impossibly sturdy bucket off their head. But that would give away your position, expose you to those damn concussion grenades, and deplete your ammo. 

Hence why you decided on the only rational thing to do. 

You were going to kill that buckethead with your trusty 7-inch bowie knife. 

Hey you with the pretty face

Welcome to the human race

A celebration, Mr. Blue Sky's up there waitin'

And today is the day we've waited for

With a light whistle from your lips, you heard the Heavy’s footsteps approach your location. 

Just like Belikov taught , you thought as you readied your Magnum, cocking the hammer back. 

The large shadow cast from their figure was already past your hiding place behind the rock. 

They walked closer and closer until you could see the heavily armored plates protecting their legs walking past you. 

And then you took the shot. 

There was a muffled, strangled cry of pain from the DGI Heavy as they staggered back from the shot. You took advantage of the momentum by lunging from behind, sinking the bowie knife deep into the narrow gap between the helmet and the neck. 

The height difference made it somewhat difficult but you could deal with it. 

Hey there Mr. Blue

We're so pleased to be with you

Look around see what you do

Everybody smiles at you

That small fleshy opening was just enough for you to sink your knife several inches in. 

You were quite sure you nicked the carotid artery. 

But that wasn’t nearly a quick enough death. 

Still, you didn’t have time to go for a second strike. A short burst of gunfire erupted from their LMG. You ducked back under the cover of the rock that really was just getting obliterated by the LMG fire.

You silently counted. It wouldn’t take long for them to be forced to reload and throw a concussion grenade your way. 

They always did that. 

It was simply protocol that came from training. 

And you would use that against them. 

Mr. Blue, you did it right

But soon comes Mr. Night creepin' over

Now his hand is on your shoulder

Never mind I'll remember you this

I'll remember you this way

And true as church bells rang on Sundays, you heard the rapid fire of the LMG die down and you fired a quick round from your Magnum at the Heavy before lunging. 

This time, you didn’t half-ass it. 

Large hands were already heavy punches at your ribs but your padded combat vest absorbed most of the blows. Not stopping your momentum, you forced the bowie knife in through the same fleshy gap. This time though, it was a frontal attack. 

You felt the knife enter smoothly into the neck until it hit resistance in the muscle protecting the jugular vein and then you just twisted it. There was a choking gurgling sound erupting from the Heavy’s throat as you felt the hands now grappling at your shoulders squeeze painfully before relaxing. 

You severed their jugular and carotid artery. 

It was only when you withdrew the knife from the neck of the Heavy that you noticed the wet feeling on your eyelashes as you blinked. You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your glove. You stared down at the crimson stain on the fabric when you pulled your hand back. 

Your hands never really were clean.

With a sigh, you stood up from straddling the dead body and set your knife in its sheath at your thigh.

You still had to plant that C4-

And that’s when you heard it. 

That all too familiar beeping sound. 

It had been nearly instinct for you to simply drop to the ground and partially roll the still heavily-armored corpse of the Heavy to face you, shielding you from the direction the inevitable detonation was going to come from. 

Of course like clockwork, the beeping stopped. 

Hey there Mr. Blue (sky)

We're so pleased to be with you (sky)

Look around see what you do (blue)

Everybody smiles at you-

(And you proceeded to see stars in your vision as you felt what seemed to be a cannonball slam into you.)

________________________________________________________________

“Bloody hell! Are you okay?” you heard an accented voice ask above you. 

It was one of those MI6 field agents sent as support for the operation. 

“Yeah,” you murmured hazily, blinking away the blotches of color and stars still littering your vision, “I...uh should have paid more attention.” 

You didn’t quite know how you missed one of the operatives planting C4 at Zone A. They must have been stealthy about it while you were in the middle of stabbing a Heavy repeatedly in the neck. 

“Sorry about that, mate. I got a bit overzealous with the C4. We’re about to head to exfil.” the operative offered out his arm to you which you quickly took. Your balance was still wobbly as you could hear the deafening ringing in your ears drown out whatever songs your Walkman was playing. 

Speaking of your Walkman, you looked down at it worriedly only to sigh in relief. 

Miraculously, it hadn’t taken severe damage. Nothing not unrepairable. 

That was good. 

You could heal from bruises, concussions, and whatever the hell was thrown at you. But you couldn’t replace this Walkman. 

You idly looked down to see the corpse of the Heavy you had taken down. The armor had gotten large fragments but it looked like the corpse was still intact. With a glance at the retreating MI6 agent, you knelt down quickly, pulling away the armor from the corpse. 

Only a select few got to wear this kind of heavy duty armor. It was a privilege due to the sheer expensiveness and maintenance costs of the armor plates. 

Patting down the corpse, you felt a familiar rectangular shape in one of the pockets on the corpse’s vest. Pulling it out, you found that it was-

...a cassette tape? 

‘ Миллион алых роз ’ was written on the white label on the cassette tape. 

Your musings were cut short by the crackling of the radio at your waist. The radio jammers must have been destroyed by now.

“If I were you, I’d get to exfil now, Bell. Doc’s waiting for you.” 

You sighed. 

Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to face disappointment at how little you contributed to the operation or how you intervened in the operation after the radio jammers went off. 

Either one wasn’t good. 

Story Time With Adler it was, you thought hazily. At least, you liked his voice. There was just an assuredness and husky tone to his voice that was pleasant to listen to…

And with that idle thought in mind, you hurriedly made your way to exfil, trying not to trip on the rocks on the way there with your still wobbly sense of balance.

_______________________________________________________________  

“ Bell.” was all the man in question had to say. He took a drag of his cigarette in the helicopter as you reluctantly grabbed the offered oxygen mask in hand and took a deep breath from it. 

After breathing in and out for several seconds, you took off the oxygen mask and smiled with widened eyes as you gave a thumbs up gesture to the man across from you. Maybe you were exaggerating a bit too much but you really did want him to get off your back regarding the matter of oxygen. 

It hadn’t helped you much back during the HALO jump apparently. 

Perhaps, he’d buy into it-

“Bell, it’s oxygen, not cocaine.”

...or maybe not…

And so you resigned yourself to spending the next several hours wearing an oxygen mask while Adler watched you like a hawk while taking drags of his cigarette. 

[wernerherzogs]

ok so. supernatural episodes 13.01-13.06 is like. cas died at the end of the previous season (doesn’t matter why. that’s not why we’re all here for.) and dean thinks cas is gone For Good and that there is nothing that can be done about it, and sam is like. desperate times, desperate measures, so Have You Tried Praying?, and dean is like. bitch of course i did. 

dramatic cut to dean having SMASHED HIS FIST AGAINST A WALL TILL HIS KNUCKLES BLED because he’d asked god to bring cas back, and god didn’t listen.

please notice how he mentions cas twice (2) before he even mentions his mum. absolute legend.

anyway afterwards dean is MOPING for a few episodes until sam I Don’t Get Paid Enough For This winchester is like. dude please admit you’re Not Handling It Well. Get Some Therapy maybe. and dean is like, I’m Fine. :) What’s Not To Handle Here. :)

also dean:

meanwhile cas is trapped in super turbo mega hell (the empty) where said empty in the form of his doppelganger inflicts psychological warfare on him:

so that’s cool. anyway sam later figures out that a way to bring dean outta his I’m Doing Fine And Not Missing Cas At All :) funk is some brotherly bonding that includes a hunting trip (just the two of them together like in old times!) and sacrifices such as sam googling the best strip clubs in the area that dean can go to and get drunk in. and at the end of it all dean finally admits that FINE. he is NOT doing well, he DOES miss cas, and HE JUST NEEDS A WIN. HE JUST NEEDS A MIRACLE. cut to CAS HAVING ANNOYED THE EMPTY to the point that it RELEASES HIM from super turbo mega hell. at this point we the viewers don’t know they had made a secret Deal about it. :( (eta: ok i have been reliably Informed that the deal happens later in the series, so it really was SHEER ANNOYANCE at cas that had convinced the empty to release him. 10/10 we stan)

HENCE the DRAMATIC REUNION. sam is like,

and dean is like,

in for a DRAMATIC HUG they GO. and cas asks, how long have i been gone? and dean says,

AND HIS VOICE CRACKS.

later dean says to sam: i needed a win, and i got cas back, so <3. that’s his miracle! love wins etc. they all go on a kind of western themed job which makes dean downright GIDDY. this is the way everyone else feels about dean’s Obsession With Cowboys, btw:

castiel: i’ve never met this man before in my life

the next morning cas tells his son (who’s also lucifer’s son. it’s complicated) about his husband’s sleeping habits:

and then they roleplayed together

nothing else happens during those six episodes obviously. this is destiel territory only. tl;dr cas was dead but now he isn’t so dean has put Depression on hold. thanks for your time see you in the next Season 13 Recap Installment

[captainkurosolaire]

金 LFRP - Captain Kuro Solaire (Updated 5/2/21)

NAME: Captain Kuro Solaire AGE: 37 (Appears 29) - (’Relic Cursed’ Immortal, not Invincible.) RACE: Seeker of the Sun, Miqo’te GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Gynephilla, Dom MARITAL STATUS: Poly SERVER: Crystal

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ––––

HAIR: A slick jet black texture, Kuro’s hair is majority of the time unkempt with downward spikes often cascading across sometimes when grown-out it’s placed in a bandana and combed on the sides. Under rare occurrences the length of his hair can be lower then his shoulders and without being straightened leaving a shaggy and feral look. Often sporting an accompanied goatee through more veteran experience and grizzly age has extended that further with a stubble to boot and long sideburns.

EYES: One eye is often left visible with an amber tint. (Typically while the other eye lays remained behind an eye-patch for a particular reason that is usually left in speculation to other onlookers.)

HEIGHT: 6 fulms, 0 ilms. 

BUILD: (Trains and adjusts his mass depending on situation or if injured.) Typically built like an ultimate fighter (ref) 

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Scattered scars from a gash hidden underneath a leather collar from his first defeat and near end. To followed historical injuries to dragon claws swiped across his hip to rib nearing his chiseled abs, to lance wounds on his pec, bite-mark from a fanged creature adorned on his shoulder. Scratch marks from passion on his back. To matching fiendish talons shredding the opposing side of his rib-cage. With a gashed-cut draped across his right-eye. Lastly an X incision on his chest crossing over his upper-torso and halting near his shoulders to his pecs. -- Additionally donned the cheek scar of his first that he had cast away due to old insecurity and trauma which was resolved. He’s got a tattoo on his forearm of runic engravings with summoner lettering’s that seem to be serving as a seal. Compass on his left-hand to prevent him losing memories of being a sailor that points in all four-directions. The south-seas etched above crossing over his bicep. Behind his back is a Goldbrand Crest a forgotten ritual that has since been lost among the GB Crew as little carry it left but two-survivors. He’s often shirtless for all to see. (Gives him that unrestricted feeling Miqo’tes like plus has meaning to him.)

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Talisman across his neck that has several link-pearls attached to a string with a condor feather which represents ‘freedom’, the pearls mainly allow him to keep in-contact with crew-mates and a bundle of criminal orientated allies or business associates. A combat satchel attached to his belt that allows him quick accessibility and utility. Owns a signature tricorne hat that is leather matching his often outfit of black leather which serves to highlight his seen mysterious and imposing scoundrel aesthetic.

PERSONAL –––-

PROFESSION: Captain of the Goldbrand, navigation, commanding, claiming panties all over Eorzea and providing pleasure where others need the lesson or reminder. Along with a thief, smuggler, diplomat and a veteran sailor. He’s also a chaser of treasure from old relics to folktales passed on in Legends through very little evidence of the existences but scrolls & charts that he reads and plans out accordingly before attempting his plunder for fortune.

HOBBIES: Drinking, Ocarina, Women, Pleasure, More Pleasure, Even more Pleasure, Entertainment (Former Pleasure Dome worker as a Dancer and Escort.) Juggling, Acrobatics, Jury-rigging, Swimming, Teaching, Training, Mentor, Fighting, Fishing, Brawling, Working out. Exploring. Adventuring. Landing into dangerous situations.

LANGUAGES:  Fluent (Mostly) Eorzean, Xaelic, and Hingan, Pirate Tongue. (Working on venturing past his horizon to open trades and communications with beast-tribes for business escapades or other relationships.)

RESIDENCE: Ul’dah

FEARS: None. (Backstory behind that) He’s not immune to psychological attacks and is prone to them.

RELATIONSHIPS –––-

SPOUSES: Failed many.

CHILDREN: Bastard children all around who knows you might be one. He’s often out there being ever the man-whore and shameless about the fact.

PARENTS: Hoku Solaire (Father - Alive) - (PC) Rokeia Solaire (Mother - Deceased giving birth to Kuro Solaire)

SIBLINGS: Unknown but Father was a former Nunh of a branch in the Coeurl Tribe, there’s more room to make some. (Has ancestors in an upcoming arc been polishing.)

OTHER RELATIVES: Many unknown. Though Sol Akagane / Founding GB Captain Gark would be considered along with his OG Crew as Family in a more surrogate / adoption style way. Wild Crew.

PETS: Which kind you wondering?

TRAITS –––-

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unemphatic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION –––-

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

@mooglemeet @crystal-rp-ffxiv​ @balmungrp​ @ffxiv-crystal-rp​ @balmungroleplayers-blog​

HOOKS + OOCLY, I AM –––– (Below cut)

HOOKS –––-

◘  Mystical Journey - Meet Captain who’s rebuilding towards something on a scale higher than the skies that’s far beyond himself. Whether friendships forged, romantic, rival, or outright enemy. Open to plot about just anything whether one-shot, or slice of life. Each confrontation and connection is impactful and holds weight that determines and shapes him, his source of power by himself is extremely low but the wind and orbit of who he’s surrounded swells and creates upon him alongside them or with that fact, he may overcame the impossible multiple times, even his goal of deemed ultimus. He’s lustful, prideful, sinful. Though there’s good in his scoundrel ways and also freely can be interpreted as evil against the pure heart. From descendants to nearly wherever sea’s may touch he can be found voyaging too or from. Depending on the City-State there’s more mystery surrounding him due to him trying to remain under the radar but he’s also pretty brash, open, which can net him in infinite chaos and trouble. This dark and often cursed seemingly lifestyle he’s thrown under sometimes he also needs to be in the company of innocent and light, peaceful individuals. To remain humane and stay on track of him straying from being the problem. Many lives have died under his company, many lessons and time’s he’s ‘wrecked’’ the smallest and few encounters overall tally and aid him with building his compassionate side to see those people again. ◘  Scourges - The worst of the worst pirate crew’s. They command various levels of commandment, control, conquering all that is blue and water-bound. Each hold their own vendetta and thoughts on what being a pirate or their own treasure ‘sake’ they wish to lay ownership. Ongoing and tackling these threats with Captain holds mighty risk. (Subject to your comfort) In this case it can result in injuries, mental trauma, or many afflictions that may provide more experience to your character or layers. - There are no clear solutions on how to defeat, overcome, or maybe it’s just an encounter with a band of Crewmates from the varying Crews, that’ll overall build steps closer to final battles or all-out Warfare or cripple these Crew’s to make him able to defeat them with his Wild Crew. ◘  Ulterior - (Mystery/+18Dark ) - A cultist crew held from marshy swamped seas, polluted and tainted. They blur webs of confusion alongside deceit. Operating in the blends of guises that shadowy walk in public crowds they don’t distinguish themselves. The pressure of this arc will be dark, twisted, and every foreboding, never certain what’s reality. Vastly in concern, they’ve begun becoming more bold and manipulating brave pirate’s, adventures, would-be sea goers who get reported missing soon afterwards. Only to be converted and abducted into this Cultist crew as nearly every encounter with them as they eat and feast off your fears turn’s their targets into belief of a high power, a mad god under all fleshing skin. Visited during nightmares. ◘  OMONGA - (Bloody/Violent +18 Extremely Dark) - This Scourge crew is one of the most dangerous altogether. They’re primitive freaks, viking pirates of sorts. Who outright raid, pillage, slaughter anything that moves approaching their territory. A force unlike any other, a dominating and deathly, blight of a Giant who strike’s fear just mentioned by pirate’s of old, stays clear from him and often plays nice to prevent gaining his wrath or detection, better to submit. YORE of the Gorey Seas is their Captain who destructively holds gatekeeper and one force that Maelstrom even cannot overcome their brute waters as they stay stationary and defensive, he’s not too mobile beyond his ‘Nation’  but his crew are savages and they operate like the fiercest warmongers, also they’ve got berserkers. Used to be known wanted but after many bounty hunters and foolish adventurers tried taking his life and the failures stacked up, using the defeated and weak for soil for harvesting their crops, and even their own fleets could bypass their engineering he remained untouchable. Sort of a necessary bridge from one individual owning all the seas altogether. They’ve a whole hierarchy, torture system, culture, that is ultra barbaric. He’ll need additional power to help him have a chance to survive and maintain more importantly the lives of his Crew. This is his last chance to get it all right. (There’s more too but I’ll save them unless asked or somehow the other’s become dealt with or too full.) ◘  Wanted: Deadman - (Suspenseful / Thriller / Mystery) - Recently Captain had resurfaced from death making advancements and pursuits only identifiable as his motives. Maelstrom and other officials, detectives, could be working alongside a set of Law characters that I’ve created also trying to seize and capture him for not just a hefty bounty it’s an instant hanging to death and gallows if he’s caught this time. Or a huge payout. He’s stacked multiplied crimes of indecencies, broken peace, slandered Maelstrom, stolen, scammed, rebelled for Freedom, liberated and uncovered crimes against city-state laws, he’s an outright menace to society. Though Captain and his Crew are crafty and now alongside his First Crewmate are covering his tracks desperately to prevent him from being heard again. Though if Captain succeeds in claiming or ‘Goldbrand’’ regains recognition and infamy again over the high-seas whether by gaining influence, relics, or defeating Scourges and creating more noise. He’ll be even more on the run. His Crew are accessories so capturing them may be enough to draw him out or still provide information and payouts. If he’s noted to still be breathing a full on world bounty can be placed to only increase the odds stacked against his time. (Also wanted by Voidals and anything relating to a Scourge. His enemies are highly stacked but he’s got some incredible reach and allies, people he genuinely loves and cannot be anything without them.) ◘  Isle RP - (High Fantasy / Evolving) - Various Isle’s can be visited, linked and tether to a Crewmate’s personal quest. Or maybe Fables. Each Isle has its own unique dangers and is creatively open to any adapting once the base concept is thought out. I have multiple in mind. Some of them have treasures, others have temporary treasures once the threat on each Isle is dealt with the treasure may be spent. Those things might be non useful, so the experience and journey alone may be the only reward. Or surviving and wreckage etc can also occur, it's all open to free-form.

◘  Relic Hunt - (High Fantasy / Evolving ) - (Reference) - Captain’s crew and trade is being a professional treasure hunter diver. Searching and uncovering ancient tablets and thing’s long forgotten past time itself from allagan, mhachi, amdapori and other mythological natures. From Voidal Relics to the series of Deity Relic’s there remains ruins and dungeons, trials, labyrinths, that possess unique items with governed power imbued from primals, high aetherial beings, or prototypes to strange works of magic and science. Depending on the Relic often determines how desperately Captain seeks to net it under his awareness than allow another to uncover as rival band’s of Scourges and pirate crew also would chase for such and want to use it for dominion and nefarious reasonings. Sometimes they’ll already possess said Relic’s and be threats to battle for the property. Which in that case it’s plundering.time. Depending what Relic is conversed around it could be difficult puzzles, or trials, or something more tame to fetch. If another Historian or someone he believes would preserve the item, safer than within his stead, he’ll only aid in retrieving and less on acquiring. Better the relic stay’s far from his lurking dangers that already pursue his waters.

◘  Crew / No Crew - (Optional Addon) - Can choose whether you wish me to RP the other Crewmates and have them interact with your character / characters or bring multi-muses too. Each Crewmate or the main 13 have their own quests, narratives, their own motives of why they’re even following Captain, but they can betray, be broken, all them will act very realistic and lifelike, so they can be romanced etc too. Captain would go to world’s end for them. Make no mistake, this is his Last Crew and shot, he’s on the thinnest surface of water. Soon the mightiest tides will crash and collide against him and his Worldly Finder, his ship, if he’s unable to reign them or lead them to aid their own morale's then he’ll have no chance in getting to the end of his own quest, goal. Each scourge, relic, everything is an obstacle and aiming for something grand.

Alternatively, I can just RP Captain himself and vaguely mention anything else regarding. Might also gain allies, other crewmates, other things that’ll play parts depending on the arc.

Writing is my lifeblood I enjoy stories.

Overly chill and outspoken along with communication my prime focus. I human so I break down and have to recuperate my energy and health sometimes. Not into drama outside RP.

I Para-RP but do nearly ever format and style.

I’m open to plot within any genre.

24/7 Nerd. +18 year RP experience all around from LARPing, Dungeon Master /  Former event runner /  Former Owner / Leader for Discords and Linkshells / Tabletop Creator. There’s nothing I cannot do.

I’m CST. Though chronic-deteriorating health makes my hours rando. I prefer Discord RP. (Tumblr too sometimes if have an idea.) In-game I can be swayed. ◘  ~ This all long but trying to be communicative and thorough upfront. A necessary evil, I fear.

YOU CAN CONTACT ME VIA ––

Twitter - Captain Kuro Solaire

Tumblr - I try to follow everyone in FFXIV Community so should be able to DM me.

Discord: Kuro Solaire#0508

Ref Sheet

+18 F-list

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

alright alright now onto my theory as to why i think zzs avoids instigating a spar with wkx, even though he very much wants to all the time, and even though he displayed none of these restraints at the start. right from the top of my head (leaving out the extras, because there wenzhou have basically 'resolved' their core problems), i dont think wenzhou ever physically spar/fight more than two (2) times in the main story. (im not counting the many times zzs kicks at or hits wkx and wkx absorbs it instead of countering it. thats not a spar/fight lmao.) at both of these times wkx uses the physical proximity to expand on his flirtations and get under zzs's skin, and both these times it pulls the rug out from under zzs and gets a reaction out of him.

im thinking of the scene in the early chapters i put under the cut above, right after zzs knocks out qin song with his unparalleled flute solo, when wkx is like 'ur face is fake u must be beautiful aha' and zzs is like 'touch it if u wanna if u dont believe me' and wkx is like 'ok' and then they fight. spar. fightspar?

honestly, by this point its pretty clear that zzs has an immense pleasure fighting wkx. its also clear that he is vastly inferior and cannot keep up, but that doesnt seem to be a big reason (or at least, not the only reason) to not have a repeat. no, what im thinking of is how wkx, once again, takes advantage of the physical proximity to expand upon his flirtations (in this case, it would be more accurate to say he is using psychological warfare and masks it as flirtation, as they arent really at that point yet where wkx's 'flirtations' could be counted genuine) and gets under zzs's skin, because wkx doesnt operate after traditional sparring/fighting/martial arts etiquette and because hes not beyond being underhanded and using everything at his disposal to attrify his opponent to pieces. difficult to counter when youre zzs, notorious at being underhanded but not yet well-versed at the art of outright shamelessness, and easily floored.

im just thinking, taking zzs's clear inferiority when it comes to meeting wkx on eye-level in a spar likes he wants to into account together with zzs's allergic reactions to wkx peeling his carefully constructed masks (ha!) apart, i would say it makes a lot of sense why he avoids getting physical with him, though he obviously itches to most of the time and cant be called sensible enough to not solve their issues this handy way and vent his feelings a little, giving this bastard whos been provoking him like no other before a good smacking. physical spars seem to come more easy to zzs than verbal conflicts, tbh. for that alone, its super interesting that the times they fight are so few.

wenzhou spar a lot when theyre travelling to the puppet manor though. yby always treats them as if theyre doing something improper, and though im certain they dont do anything what yby insinuates: based on how theyve been when they physically fight, its probably more flirting than fighting, more foreplay than anything else. by that point, they very much want to, well, sleep with each other already, and use the spars as a poor substitute.

though it might not confirm my theory, i find it interesting that it happens off-screen; i find it interesting that it has such an air of foreplay. i find it interesting that zzs avoids fighting wkx at first, during his era of "who is this guy and why is he following me" and "there might be smth between us but he isnt serious anyway and who cares, im gonna die". and that now, when it feels like he has reached a point in his own journey where he has stopped struggling so much and is working on embracing it, he cant get enough of tumbling around with wkx in the woods.

that the narrative skips over it so quickly reminds me a lot of zzs's habit of sweeping things under the rug he feels an awful lot about but doesnt want to get into. it could be just a storytelling element to hasten the plot along, it likely is. but still! i like how it fits so very neatly into zzs's characterization and narrative habits

sooo reading some metas and its got me thinking about zzs and his (diminished) power levels, and how that comes between him and giving wkx a good smacking. leaving the theory aside that zzs is likely oftentimes playing his anger up or faking it entirely, as a justification for giving wkx so much leeway and having him around (the excuse being: "i dont WANT him around i am SUFFERING his presence! what can i do! im a lot weaker!"), and also leaving aside my theories why he doesnt give in to inciting a physical spar most of the time even once even though he very much wants to, im wondering at how difficult it must be for zzs to be so reminded of his own diminished strength practically all the time. i mean, here is wkx who he would have a lot of fun meeting in a fight and whom he might not be able to win against if he were at his original level. and wkx is forceful, he is overbearing, he is plastering himself all over zzs, and he sees zzs and doesnt look away. it must be difficult, to be so very aware of your own physical weakness, of your own physical and martial inferiority if you are a martial arts nut like zzs and if youre struggling with showing weakness and vulnerability like zzs, who would spring through hoops and make multiple mental gymnastics in succession just to not appear weak to his own inner voice.

[thepilgrimofwar]

Warplanning 2 - Edited Roll20 Log

[Backdated from after Breaking the Line & The Wintergales, and before The Whole Hog]

[Event Start]

Days had passed since the start of the civil war and the weight of it all seemed to bear down upon the members of house Emberheart. Dark rings could be seen beneath the eyes of Solendis and his son Stenden. Sleep did not come easy for either of them. One, worrying about the life of his son, the other, worrying about the lives of his people. The Lord and his Steward both did what they thought was best, but so far, had nothing to show for it apart from the coalition that gathered before them.

Judereth and Relriah had both opted to stay on the frontlines with the other officers at the head of their militiamen. Keeping up the fight against Illithia as they gained ground from their initial winnings. Zarannis too had decided to stay on a frontline of her own, keeping an eye and ear on Mediea Wintergale, and speaking with her sister Illsei. She believed that decisions moving forward were left to those ready to make them and as the party gathered in the War-Room the unfolding of what was to come would soon become clear.

[Banter]

Thanidiel spends a long, long, drawn-out moment staring at Beathyn particularly. Then to Renalays. Then to Beathyn. Just Beathyn. Her long platinum brows entrench in the polar opposite of 'pleasure.'

Kebha is about as focused as she's ever going to be, which is not a lot. Her ear flicks as Thanidiel edges closer.

Lirelle looks between Renalays and the woman on the opposite side of her. She looks askance at Thanidiel briefly before turning to the inquisitor. "What are you doing here?"

Thanidiel definitely seems to prefer the Illidari over the -Inquisitor.-

Ethalarian sits with his arms folded over his chest, leaned back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table like the uncouth dirt farmer he is.

Stenden looks across the table to all the officers who came today. The rest were seeing to their troops at the front no doubt. "Thank you all for coming." The boy gestured to the walls where briefings and reports on the major players in the conflict. "If you need to get up to speed, especially for the new comers, feel free to have a gander." He said, in reference to the Inquisitor and the Illidari who both seemed to cause tension with their very existence in the war room.

Vissehn yawns and scratches under his arm, looking unkempt and delightfully uncouth. He waves to the others, before listening to Stenden with the fullness of his short attention span.

Kebha seems to be absolutely oblivious to this tension- but then, she also doesn't see a problem with her eating habits. She instead chooses to bounce on her heels, 'looking' down the table at the assembled lot.

Vissehn:"Oi, hail scary Inquisitor lady. Eat any babies t'day?"

Renalays:"Sir Valcinder -humbly- requested my presence here on behalf of the Lord Emberheart here. Not that it has been an inconvenience; the Inquisitors have been... sorting the Kingdom province by province, as it were."

"Are you offering?"

Vissehn makes a show of warding off danger, feigning a stricken look.

[Planning Starts Proper, Summary of Turn 1]

Solendis:"So now that we're all gathered: Goodember is in our custody. The frontline against his realm of Shalemarch is holding for now. The Illithian front has gone well thanks to your efforts- And House Wintergale has, just last night, declare their loyalty and support."

Thanidiel:"I assume Fish saved the day in the Cloudrend Glades?" That's a veiled insult.

Lirelle:"Hm. Wasn't aware you knew each other."

Thanidiel:"Don't."

Renalays:"Are you ashamed of your service, Phoenix Guard Highdawn? No matter - this is not the time to coddle or press egos."

Beathyn clears his throat loudly and dramatically, attempting to keep some ensemble of order on Solendis' behalf. "As per our agreement that we came to," he gestures towards the compatriots of the diplomatic team of Vissehn and Renalays. "He will be providing us verbal support and access through the Cloudrend Glades. He won't however, be providing soldiers for the war effort unless he is attacked by House Illithia directly."

Isilos raises an eyebrow at the mention of his Nephew's organization before slienlly returning to the table and ignoring the rabble.

Lirelle squints at this weird shared history. Right.

Thanidiel stares at the Inquisitor for a steady moment - the vile burning bright in her felfire eye before she huffs and focuses on the report. "That's good," she can -at least- claim.

Thanidiel:"It would be harder if we had to drag him by his ancient ear from skirmish to skirmish."

Stenden:"Going by how old he is, that ear might come off."

Thanidiel:"Withdrawing support whenever things bothered him again would have struck the morale."

Lirelle:"It saves us the trouble of having one last player to deal with after this is over. As long as he keeps his word."

Kebha loses interest in the table, and retreats to crouch on those lovely chairs right there like some kind of weird, folded gremlin. She can hear just fine from here thanks.

Solendis gave his son a LOOK. Which chided him back to a more official tone.

Vissehn:"He's piss-scared of throwin' lots. Wants to be independent an' his own entity."

Vissehn shoots a look to Solendis, and murmurs to Stenden.

Ethalarian 's eyes flick back and forth between Renalays and Thanidiel, but he doesn't seem interested in saying or doing much. Above his paygrade, probably.

From Vissehn: "Might rip off half his face wivit, yeah? He'd look a right horror, like from Northrend."

Renalays:"Exactly. Complacency is what we need from your people. Not a... tenuous simulation of it."

[Wintergale gives nominal support]

Stenden folded his arms. "So, what should we do about this development. Before we move on to... Other affairs that need dealing with." Stenden looked to the military minds at the table.

Esheyn also chooses not to get involved in... any of that. She folds her arms across her chest, listening silently.

Lirelle:"Zarannis will keep him in line, one way or another. There are other things more important for now."

Oosaarn released a frosted breath into the air with a snort. "Don't suppose they would simply follow whoever kills their leader."

Beathyn flings his arms into the air at Oosaarn's comment. "That's what I kept saying!"

Renalays:"Inefficient."

Beathyn gives a look at Renalays.

Oosaarn:"It's the only way Warsong decide who's right."

Renalays:"The Sin'dorei do not rally as easily as the other cultures of the Horde."

Kebha perks up at that- that was what she was good at. The killing thing. The talking thing, not so much.

Renalays:"They would spend weeks, if not months, fixing together all of their pieces into a different puzzle with different names."

Ethalarian exhales a long sigh through his nose.

Renalays:"Less energy dedicated to -killing.-"

Oosaarn:"Just saying. The other person can't win the argument if they can't argue."

Vissehn jerks a thumb towards Renalays. "His death can wait til the present unpleasantness is done."

Solendis:"So, logically speaking. We could start up a Western front against Illithia. Only real question is, how much ought we invest into this- and does the Coalition wish to be part of it- Rather than continuing to advance as they are now against the more defensible frontlne."

Thanidiel:"A token force would demonstrate 'allyship' between Wintergale and Emberheart."

"Otherwise, I doubt Illithia has interest in traversing the Cloudrend Glades either."

Stenden tapped his finger on the map. "So, a token force. Diversion perhaps to draw numbers away from the east?"

Thanidiel:"Possibly. It's easy to feign numbers."

Thanidiel:"Tie branches to the horses' tails, burn more fires than there are squadrons every night. Yes?"

Lirelle:"If you intend to create a diversion, you still send -enough- men to handle being a diversion."

Renalays gestures her gloved hand in Thanidiel's direction. For both seeming to -dislike- each other, they're almost speaking like two halves of the same weapon.

[Muroco offers Rockhoof Guerilla Warfare.]

Muroco:"I can act as a diversion."

Thanidiel:"Honestly I like that."

Oosaarn:"I would like to see the Grimtotem acting like a diversion."

Stenden looks at Muroco. "I'm listening." His ears perked up at the sound of that.

Thanidiel:"He counts for thirty of your ill-fed Northerners."

Lirelle:"That is honestly not a terrible idea."

Muroco bangs his fist on Mammoth with a resounding thud. "Your locals aren't used to seeing someone like me, and they haven't seen Grimtotem tactics before."

Ethalarian arches a brow in the big Tauren's direction. "I didn't realize smashing everything in sight to a pulp was tactics." He scratches at his chin. "It works for you, though."

From Lirelle: you could do an event for mark when hes got free time since he's not around as much

Thanidiel:"Grimtotem are quite known for guerrilla warfare amongst the Shu'Halo."

Oosaarn:"It's called psychological warfare."

Muroco:"They're going to smash themselves into a pulp against me."

Oosaarn:"And also regular warfare."

Stenden:"It'll spread our forces more thin, but if you believe you can do so, I can give you one division of troops for support. If you can instruct them- I am certain they will be very useful to you."

From Lirelle: or he can write a story cause he's really good with those, you can talk with him imo

Kebha nods in the background. "The big one is good."

Muroco is now a leader of fledgling guerilla fighters to-be.

[The Fate of Nelio Goodember]

Stenden turns their attention back to the front. "So. Now onto the other matter at hand. Nelio Goodember."

Renalays:"Ah, you have contained the fat bastard?"

Oosaarn:"Horrible name."

Renalays:"His petition records at the Magistrate annoy me."

Kebha subtly perks up, resting her cheek in a clawed hand and looking like she might actually be paying attention.

Vissehn beamed. "I dangled him off a balcony!"

Nelio Goodember is dragged into the room, bound, but not gagged. "UNHAND ME!" he screeches as he gets shoved onwards into the corner of the war room.

Renalays:"Did you break your wrist in the process or did your youthful years prepare you for that?"

"Hello there, Lord Goodember."

Lirelle:"Oh for fucks sake. Who thought it was a good idea to drag him in here?"

Vissehn laughs at Renalays, brows waggling at her.

Kebha literally hisses at the loud bastard.

Oosaarn:"You're surrounded by enemies. And at least half of us don't so much as blink at the idea of removing someone's head. Best to keep a silver tongue."

civil*

Thanidiel:"What the orc said. Shut your jowls."

Solendis gives a wry smile. "My idea, I think it was best to let him listen to his fate as he's decided- and to plead his case accordingly." He walks up to Nelio. "Hello friend."

Lirelle sighs. Fucking diplomats man.

Ethalarian glances up and leans forward to take a peek around Esheyn at the bicc boi currently dragged into the room. He grunts and then goes back to being a grouch and leaning back. Exactly what he figured one of these northerners to look like.

Nelio Goodember pouts and shuts up for now. Not wanting to aggravate the warriors with a blood thirsty reputation. "Well?"

Vissehn waves to Nelio. "Oi! Nice seein' ye again! Thanks fer cushioning my landin!"

Oosaarn just... marched right up to the trio and sized up Goldmember. "Could untie him and let my worgs chase him around until he feels like being cooperative."

Esheyn glances to Ethalarian with a shrug as he takes a better look around her. She comes to lean against the table when she turns to face Goodember and the others, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Kebha:"He looks like he would make good crackling, no?"

Vissehn elbows Stenden. "See, I got manners."

Stenden speaks up. "So. I've been told I should execute you."

Nelio Goodember visibly sweats as the orc steps up to him. "W- Worgs?"

Oosaarn:"Yes. Giant wolves. Worth ten of your pitiful chickens."

Thanidiel:"I'll repeat myself and my say that I dislike the concept of killing him if we can use him. Shove him back in the dungeon with his House's seal and give him a treat every time he stamps off orders for his people on our behalf."

Ethalarian throws a hand up and shakes his head in Esheyn's direction. "You could also let Muroco just step on him a little at a time." He tips his chair back on two legs now. "Unbroken bones make for good bargaining chips."

Muroco:"True."

"I could break the bones he can live without."

Kebha:"Ooooh! Can we hear his toes crunch?"

Oosaarn:"Mokra hasn't tasted elven flesh since the second war."

Muroco:"He's too corpulent. He won't put up much of a race against worgs."

Solendis:"Bargaining chip sounds the most useful. But by not just having his head- I fear we will be sending the wrong message about how we see traitors."

Vissehn looks to Stenden. "What you wanting for him?"

Vissehn:"You're the Lord here, we're offerin' the peanut gallery of commentary."

Thanidiel:"Fish has a point for you, Lordling. In the end, we stand by your choices whether they feed us or burn us." That's... not comforting in spite of the -fervent- loyalty expressed.

Ethalarian visibly cringes. Smooth, Thanidiel.

Stenden looks at Vissehn, and at the man that was visibly shrinking by the moment into the corner of the room. "I'll hear everything at my disposal first. What I want is for the realm to stop tearing itself apart- and how we handle this... Traitor, will determine that." He gives his agent a nod. Wait, see. For now at least, he supposed. 

Thanidiel doesn't seem concerened at all. 

[Judereth Swiftquiver nominated to rule Shalemarch]

Lirelle:"He has no worth to us as a prisoner, he is simply consuming resources. What Highdawn said is made much more smoother if someone else is in charge of Shalemarch. Someone capable. And loyal."

Renalays:"Do you have a recommendation then, Lady Dawnbrook?"

Solendis snaps his fingers at Lirelle. "What was that? Who would that be?"

Lirelle:"I'm sure you have minor lords that you could elevate to that position, those who have served your family all this time. Failing that, give it to Judereth. She is capable enough, and you no longer have the Black Banner to call on. Someone martial is not out of the question."

Oosaarn:"I offer no useful advice except that which entertains me. Former general. Not diplomat."

Nelio Goodember sweats more.

Renalays:"Judereth is an individual that the State would appreciate in control of Shalemarch."

"She has merit and war to her."

Kebha hasn't a sane thought in her head, she is not the one to be asking.

Solendis scratches his chin. "That would work. She's known to the peasants as a good leader too."

Solendis:"So where does that leave you?" he looks at about to-be-not-Lord Goodember.

Renalays:"It sets the tone as well for your government, I will preface, however, Lord Emberheart. Embrace one group to alienate others."

"Although, your uncle and his father before him had no taste for noble-blooded aristocracy and I suspect you have some inkling of that in you."

Vissehn looked to Renalays. "Stenden ain't neither of them, he's willin' to do what it takes."

Nelio Goodember:"I have-" he paused. Gold? That'd be ceased. Influence? In chains? "I have the love of the people? I pulled them from poverty and kept them well cared for in a time of heavy Horde levies- If you remove me, I believe any still loyal are likely to resist the decision!"

Oosaarn:"Want my advice? Side with those whose loyalty and honor are iron. Not sniveling nobles who more likely to respect their dinner plate than you."

Renalays:"I will believe that when he takes after the traditions." She stares plainly at Stenden, "A leader should fight, like the Farstriders who warden and guide us."

Ethalarian rolls his eyes.

Stenden sighed and joined his father. "I am the Emberglades." he says coldly. Looking at Renalays, he gives a small smile and a nod. "I can't please everyone. But I can keep the peace, even if it costs blood."

Thanidiel:"--Lady Illithia spills enough for her family."

Muroco:"Want me to punch him in the stomach for you?"

Stenden frowns but says nothing at Thanidiel's comment.

Lirelle:"Enough Brat. He is a child. If he dies on the front lines, this becomes an even bigger mess than it already is."

Oosaarn:"Too easy of a target."

Vissehn bristles visibly but says nothing.

Ethalarian:"Much as I'm loathe to admit it, the fat bastard raises a valid point." He turns his attention to Lirelle. "How certain are you that this replacement of yours won't have to contend with sedition from within?"

Renalays scoffs behind her white mask - more reigned by Lirelle than anyone else who had barked back at her.

Lirelle:"I don't know, and I don't care. His subjects love his money more than they love him. Any disorganised mob that forms can be easily crushed."

"If necessary I will remain here with the Crows to handle any sort of consequences."

Ethalarian:"Oh, right. Murder more of the common folk. That's always the solution."

Oosaarn:"So take his money for yourself."

Renalays:"If you are going to install your own woman in Shalemarch, then have the process be organised. Order is what comforts the lost."

Thanidiel:"Fish could help there if he doesn't miss the frontlines."

Lirelle:"Common or not, once you take up arms, you have already made your choice."

Thanidiel:"No faster courier and herald in Quel'Thalas."

[Summary]

Stenden stands above Nelio Goodemeber. "I have heard your council," he gives a nod of appreciation to the heroes gathered in his hall. "As Lord of the Emberglades, I hereby strip you of all lands- titles- and assets- They now belong to me to redistribute as I see fit." He says, clear as day. "Bladeborn," Stenden looks back over his shoulder. "Fetch Judereth Swiftquiver. Tell her what has transpired here and that she needs to meet with me immediately." He turns back to Nelio. The man who had severely- Severely- underestimated him. "And you. You will remain in the dungeons. A hostage to your supporters. Hopefully they're not stupid enough to get their 'Lord' killed by rabbling."

Vissehn nods. "I got a way with the lowborn. Bein' one, yanno."

Renalays:"Hmm."

Kebha looks almost disappointed that she's not going to get to murder anything, but she just sighs and taps her claws on her cheek.

Vissehn bows low, silently and obediently, and immediately slips away to do Stenden's bidding.

Renalays does have a glint of what appears to be genuine appreciation of Stenden's mandate - even with that subtle behaviour to the boy's agent.

Nelio Goodember eyes started to water. At least he'd live. Right? Right?

Stenden:"Thank you. All of you. I do appreciate your council."

Thanidiel:"Shall the rest of us push to the western front?"

Oosaarn:"Is that where the fighting is?"

Stenden looks to Muroco. "Especially you, Rockhoof. I have high hopes for your efforts and high hopes that my soldiers will not disappoint you or your methods."

Stenden:"Yes, keep where you are- And when Rockhoof draws more than they can afford away from their lines, it should give you an opportunity to strike once more as you did."

Lirelle mulls over Stenden's ruling. It was at the very least, acceptable. A hostage was not her preferred method of doing things, but it had its own merit at least.

[Event Ends]