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iloveitwhen · 4 years ago

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What Team? (pt. 2)

(yes, everytime i see “what team?” i think “wildcats!” and i just couldn’t help myself with the title heehee)

I hope this meets all of your expectations! if not then sorry i guess lmao. if there are mistakes or inconsistencies let me know(:

So I got a little carried away and this is much MUCH longer than the first part so... sorry? you’re welcome? idk but turns out the story has not progressed but it basically has so let’s say it did. I also got a little carried away with Alix meeting the waynes... (Also I should add I don't know squat about roller blading)

Part 1

Based on this post by @unmaskedagain

--------

Alix wasn’t stupid, granted her best friend was Kim and together they were pretty stupid, but Alix was not inherently stupid, Kim just lowered her IQ by a significant amount just by being around him, ok? Not her fault. But anyways, point being, Alix was not stupid, she could see the way Lila's face morphed to disgust when she looked at Marinette and thought no one was watching, or when she sneered at the backs of all of her classmates when they turned around, so of course she knew why Lila really tried to force "Lukanette" down everyone's throats, she wanted to be on top. Alix aslo prided herself in not having problems such as crushes, why bother yourself when clearly people are not… hot, attractive, sexy, ect. Alix didn’t understand how or why people so desperately wanted to kiss each other but not having that urge really brought light to her class’ situation. She had learned from the way Kim used to look at Chloe and the way Max looked at Kim and the way Marinette looked at Adrien, there were plenty more examples, like Mylene and Ivan, anyways, they all had the same look even if they were trying to hide it. Lila looked at Marinette with that same look but hidden under disgust, but then again she also looked at Adrien that way too, without disgust and hate though. But she also hated Marinette, plain and simple. Wait, definitely not simple. As for why she hated Marinette, Alix just hadn't gotten that far yet, but she was sure it had something to do with Adrien. And being a closeted gay.

As for everyone else it was no secret that Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Lila Rossi did NOT like each other but lucky, or unlucky depending on how you look at it, the class simply ignored the both of them when they tried talking about the other.

Marinette, picking up on the fact that she won that battle, stopped trying to tell everyone about Lila’s obvious lies. She knew the girl still had it out for her but she was completely powerless when it came to taking Marinette’s friends away. It was quite exhausting listening to Lila and not being able to say anything that would disprove her lies because no matter how sound her proof was her classmates wouldn’t listen. And Marinette honestly just wanted to sleep.

Lately she didn’t know what was going on, all week people kept whispering and would change the conversation when she arrived. She thought they were talking behind her back but they never gave her dirty looks, in fact they were even more friendly and she got a large increase of “morning Marinette!” and “How are you doing?” which was only slightly confusing. At least they were finally being as friendly and considerate towards her as she was towards them.

“Hey Marinette?” Marinette looked up from her sketchbook as her thoughts scattered to see Juleka nervously tapping on her desk with her nails while Rose stood behind her girlfriend with a look that could only be described as sparkly. Marinette raised an eyebrow but smiled kindly at them.

“Yes?”

“So, umm,” she cleared her throat nervously, “can you help me and Rose make shirts that say “Team Luka” on them?”

“Team lu- uhmm sure?”

Juleka gave her a rare smile and a soft “thanks” before returning to her seat with Rosa who squeaked “you're the best Marinette!” Marinette gave the girl a weak smile and a small nod of appreciation and just stared in confusion at the spot where the two girls stood previously.

What?

The heck?

“What was that all about?” Alya voiced Marinette’s thoughts and slid into her seat, poking Marinette’s arm to break the black haired girl out of her stupor.

“I'm... not sure....” She furrowed her brows in confusion. Who was Luka going against that required Juleka’s support? She hadn't heard of XY making headlines lately and Luka wasn't either, well she wasn’t really online either anyways. “They asked me to help them make Team Luka shirts.” She looked over to her friend and was brought to even more confusion. Alya looked… offended? But she quickly wiped the look off her face and pursed her lips together before turning to face the front saying,

“Interesting....”

After school Marinette, with Juleka and Rose, went to buy supplies before heading to the ship to meet with Luka. Together they made ten teal tie dyed shirts which they had printed “TEAM LUKA” on the center of it. Marinette tried asking what it was for but all three just redirected her so she eventually just dropped it.

As she was leaving Luka stopped her. “Thank you, Marinette,” he said softly, “you really are a wonderful girl, you deserve the world.” Of course that made Marinette blush, what was up with this guy and his cute, mushy words?

“Thanks, Luka. An- and don’t worry about it! Anything for you,” she trailed off for a moment before rushing to add, “and your family of course. Obviously.” She chuckled nervously while Luka just gave her an amused smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Have a wonderful evening, Marinette.” He turned and walked back onto the ship, leaving Marinette weak in the knees. She quickly steeled her nerves then chastised herself while walking away. Stop feeling for multiple boys. Stop feeling for multiple boys. Stop feeling….

---

Alya was not happy to find Juleka and Rose wearing teal tie dyed shirts saying “TEAM LUKA” printed on them. So they want to play THAT game. Ok. She can deal with that. In her desire to plan she missed Marinette’s rambles throughout class and the bell that signaling the start of lunch.

“ALYA!” she snapped her head to the source of the sound to find the one and only Chloe Bourgeois with a hand on her hip and pursed lips. She looked around the room to find it completely empty except for the two of them.

“Chloe!” she scooched over the bench and hopped up, accidentally almost bumping noses with the blonde girl from being too close but Chloe just gave a disgusted face and quickly took a step back. “Just the person I needed! Did you SEE those shirts?” Chloe huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Of course I did, Césaire. That is the only reason you will be spending more time than I am comfortable with in my presence. Come on.” She turned her heel and strutted out of the classroom while Alya scrambled to grab all of her belongings.

---

Not long at all after Marinette saw Juleka and Rose (Ivan quickly following suit) wearing the Team Luka shirts, Alya and Chloe, a pairing Marinette NEVER saw coming, walked in with matching shirts, orange for Alya and yellow for Chloe, with a fancy, clean font spelling out “Team Adrien” on the front and a bold “SUCK IT” on the back. Marinette watched Alya approach her seat with her jaw hanging loose.

WHAT WAS GOING ON???

“What is- you know what? Nevermind. I don’t want to know.” Alya smirked and slid into her seat. “You purposefully came last didn’t you?”

“Yep!” Alya replied happily while pulling her phone out and started typing furiously.

“Babe, where’s my shirt?” Nino had turned around and gave his girlfriend puppy eyes.

“Oh, here you go,” she pulled a green shirt out of her bag and tossed it to him while Adrien watched with interest. A sound of excitement escaped Nino when he caught the shirt and he opened it up to see the front which revealed the back of the shirt to Marinette. She felt the blood drain from her face and she lifted her hand to cover her mouth in horror. The back had a perfect snapshot of Adrien’s side profile from his ad for cologne when he was gliding through the air. Marinette glanced at Adrien and saw that his jaw had dropped and his face started to burn a deep red. Marinette just wanted to cry. Nino flipped it over and Marinette saw “Team Adrien” in the same font of Chloe and Alya’s shirts while Nino let out an unearthly squeal.

“It’s PERFECT! Adrien! Look!” he flipped the shirt over to show Adrien but the blonde boy had already curled in on himself and hid his face in his arms.

“Whyyyyy, Alyaaaaa.” Alya smirked and looked up from her phone.

“Don’t worry Adrien, we’re rooting for you.”

Marinette cried (internally) that night as she prayed to every Kwami she knew to save her soul.

---

Adrien didn’t know what was going on, at first when he saw Luka’s shirts he really wanted one too to show his support of his acquaintance. Adrien didn’t know the boy that well but he was very kind and any team that Luka was on Adrien wanted to be on too heehee. After his friends started wearing Team Adrien shirts he felt… conflicted. And slightly uncomfortable. He was happy his friends were supporting him but it just felt wrong to root for himself. So to counteract this he approached Juleka when the school ended and got his own shirt. The next day he changed into it after getting dropped off at school, obviously because his Father would make him burn the shirt if he ever saw Adrien wearing it, and when he came out of the restroom he found Lila climbing the stairs in her own Team Luka shirt. Her eyes shot up in surprise at the sight of him before a strained smile etched onto her lips.

“Lila! It’s great to see we’re on the same team.” He smiled kindly at her and gave a silent prayer to Plagg that she didn’t think he was flirting with her as she always seemed to assume.

“Indeed, Adrien.”

Everyday for the next week more and more people wore their own team shirts until the class was split in half, save for Nathanial, Marinette, and Alix. Adrien continuously tried to find out what the teams were for but someone always assured him that it was nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t until he saw Chloe’s retweet of Alix’s tweet that he realized that his class was warring over who was the better match, him or Luka, for one of Alix’s friends that apparently the entire class knew besides Nathanial and Marinette as they never picked a side. He wondered if he knew the person that the class was talking about and decided to logout of twitter before anything got out of hand as it usually did whenever Chloe was on twitter.

---

“We have a problem.” Dick stated to his two brothers and adoptive father.

“Ok, what’s new?” Jason asked lazily, polishing his gun.

“Marinette is trending on twitter.”

“What?” Tim pulled his phone out and started going through the app as Dick continued.

“Team Luka, Team Adrien, Lukanette, and Adrinette are trending on twitter. Take a wild guess what that could mean.” Bruce rolled his eyes and started to say,

“Dick we don’t have time for this,” but Dick cut him off mid sentence and spoke over him.

“These boys are getting fought over who would be a better fit for Marinette. OUR Marinette. As in Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Jason stopped polishing his gun and actually looked at Dick while Tim gagged.

“What?” all three voices before him spoke up in unison. Dick was surprised that Bruce spoke up with a little more exasperation.

“No!” Bruce dropped his face into his hands and groaned. He was certainly taking this far worse than Dick thought he would. The older man raised his head and gave Dick a look he usually gave him when he was trusting him with an important mission, “take care of this, make sure none of those boys steal Marinette away from Damian.” Dick nodded his head once.

“Yes, sir.”

---

Marinette and the Waynes go way back, so far back that when Bruce let it slip that he and Alfred used to have a neighbor at a lake house who would repeatedly visit whenever Alfred was there the batboys KNEW they had to find the one and only Gina and meet her ENTIRE family. Marinette was ten at the time and was immediately enraptured by Damian’s “old man” personality and forced him to have fun like a child during his short stay. The Batboys, as much as they were scared of Damian and what he might do, immediately shipped them together, Jason (being the fanfiction writer/reader which he never admitted to anyone) deemed the ship “Daminette” which the others agreed to fervently. But now, five years later and three very determined Daminette shippers later, Damian and his brothers were on a plan to France to meet with Marinette.

“Momma Cheng! Papa Dupain!” Dick swung the bakery door open and sauntered in while the others trailed behind him rolling their eyes, except for Tim, Tim was excited for good coffee.

“Oh Richard!” Sabine walked around the counter and gave all the boys a quick hug and handed them off to her husband who cracked their backs with his monstrous hugs. Sabine reached Damian and pulled him into a hug before he could protest then held him at arm's length. “Oh my have you grown! Tom,” she turned her head to her husband while still holding onto Damian.

Tom set down Tim who stumbled and was caught by Dick before hitting the ground. “Yes, dear?”

“Hasn’t he grown so much? Such a handsome young man,” she let go and pinched his cheek which he pulled away from when suddenly he was lifted into a smoldering hug and felt the cr-rick cra-ack! of his spine. He wiggled in the grip finding he couldn’t get out but when he was placed back down he felt a little lightheaded and refused to stumble like an embarrassment Tim was.

“You fellas can grab some treats, Marinette won’t be home until pretty late but you boys are welcome to stay until she arrives” The boys all nodded in response and said their chorus of thank you’s and went to grab some pastries before heading to the inside of their home.

Jason quickly got restless and Dick followed him to babysit keep an eye on him while Tim pulled out his computer and started typing away. Damian got bored and decided to explore. He knew it was probably inappropriate but he politely asked Sabine if he could go up to Marinette’s balcony knowing she probably kept her garden growing up there when she started it out of spite of him after he insulted her capabilities to take care of another thing, much less herself. He was pleased, and slightly annoyed, to find a beautiful garden with an array of flowers, herbal plants and even a beautiful small tree.

After a while being by himself a ragged looking cat sauntered over to the balcony and Damian quickly made friends with the animal and deemed it sweet and good and no harm would ever come to such an animal under his watch. He decided she was worthy to carry the name Enibas and smiled as she curled up on his chest while they both drifted off to sleep on the deck chair.

---

Alix re-strapped her skates and got back up, ignoring the pain in her badly scraped hip and rolled out her shoulder while skating back uphill to the beginning of her obstacle course. She spun around and narrowed her eyes at the several cones placed strategically in front of her. She had set up her area by the Eiffel Tower and the locals already knew to steer clear as she had been doing this regularly for the past seven years ever since she got her first pair of skates. She blocked everything and anything out of her mind and focused on her breathing and steadied her body, with one more huff of breath she shot out towards the cones.

First: three cones placed closely together in a line and a fourth further behind, she spun in circles and lifted her heel of her right foot and toes of her and glided through the three cones quickly, she then jumped in the air and spun in a circle in midair over the fourth cone in a slight pirouette position before landed on her left foot with her arms out, bent over slightly, and her right leg sticking out behind her.

Second: she was still gliding very fast and twisting her extended leg gave her the momentum to face behind her, there were no cones but she knew what to do. She bent the leg supporting her and cut to the right and expertly landed on her padded hand and using the walled walkway beside her she pushed her left leg out to skate alongside and up the wall. Placing her other hand on the ground she pushed her body up high, higher than anybody should be able to do but given the fact she discovered Fluff gave her a bit of an advantage, she twirled and twisted to land on both feet. Once again Alix was facing downhill and even though she lost a lot of speed with the last move she was gaining again.

Third: there was a little makeshift ramp, Alix huffed again and pushed herself downhill. She would make it this time. Going as fast as she thought was safe, she skated on top of the ramp and keeping her legs straight she let it lift her, Alix let herself fly for a bit letting her legs carry up as her upper body fell before tucking her legs in to quicken the flip. However, instead of flipping too fast like last time, slipping, and slamming onto her shoulder, she went higher than she anticipated and shot her legs out to reach the ground quicker and ungracefully swung her arms about to prevent her from falling backwards again. She thumped onto the ground but before she could celebrate her success of landing on two feet she tripped from the unbalance and yelled “FU**!” before smashing into the ground.

Alix groaned from the pain and thanked the Kwami’s she always wore her helmet, if not she was sure she'd have much more than just a scratched chin.

“Are you okay?” a panicked man’s voice entered her ears and without moving to see who it was she gave a thumbs up.

“Holy sh** that was AWESOME!” another man’s voice invaded her ears again. Great. American tourists.

Alix pushed herself up to see who it was speaking to find, what most would call, a handsome gentleman with black hair and clear blue eyes filled with worry. She looked over at the other man who looked pretty much the same except with a weird strip of white hair and was typing furiously on his phone.

“Oi!” she pointed at the white striped hair dude, “di**head, did you take a video? Where are you sending it?”

“Jason!” the first with the blue eyes looked back at his… partner? “Don’t send that to anyone, alright?” The guy looked between the man in front of Alix then to her before shrugging.

“I wasn’t going to.” Alix still stared at him while he went back to his phone but walked up to the two on the ground.

“Are you sure you're ok, miss?” the man in front of her asked. She looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.

“I've been doing this since I was eight. I’ve had worse.” the guy nodded then smiled brightly.

“That was very impressive though.” He stood up and offered his hand which she took and stood up with him. “Do you mind if I join you? I would love it if I could. I’ve never actually done flips and stuff with skates but I think I can handle it. So can I?” His smile was so big and innocent that Alix laughed at him.

“I’m sorry but this isn’t exactly something you can just pick up and be good at, I’ve fallen enough times I won’t break a bone and while he,” Alix pointed at the other guy, “might be able to take a few crashes you don’t look like you’ve ever been in a serious harm. Like ever. No offence or anything I just don’t want some broken bones blamed on me.” She replied as nicely as she could but the man just started laughing.

“How about I show you what I can do on skates first and if you deem me unworthy I’ll take my leave.” Alix narrowed her eyes at him then gave him a slow nod. “Great!” he whipped out his phone and started texting someone while Alix just turned around and headed for her water bottle. These guys were weird.

Ten minutes later another guy showed up, Tim, as Alix was informed earlier, also had black hair and blue eyes except he seemed younger and was skinnier than the other two, and was carrying three pairs of new skates. Alix gawked at him, those were some of the nicest, most expensive pairs of skates in Paris and he had three. Yup. These were some rich fools.

Dick, as he introduced himself as (Alix laughed at him for such an unfortunate name), squealed and rushed to put on a pair of skates and wheeled around doing impressive jumps and moves that he really had no right doing while Jason yelled “I told you not to get me a pair!” the new boy shrugged and put his own on. Alix sighed and shook her head, accepting that these particular rich fools would be quite stubborn.

“Ok. I’m ready.” Alix turned towards Dick who looked at her expectantly.

“Ok. What are you waiting for, am I supposed to help you with something or…?”

“Oh! Uh… can I do the course? He pointed downhill at her makeshift course and she nodded.

“Sure. Don’t blame me when you crack your head open, you should really get a helmet by the way.”

“Oh don’t worry,” he waved her off and smiled like he wasn’t in actual danger, “I do stuff like this all the time.” He readied himself and went through her course, not as dramatic as she had done but toned down motions and movements and when he got to the ramp he jumped as far up as he could but didn’t flip. He skated back up and went through again adding a little more complicated movements through it. Alix watched with interest as Tim skated up to her side and stuck a hand out.

“Hello, I’m Tim.”

“I know.” Alix accepted his hand shake, “I’m Alix,” she replied before returning to watching Dick go through the course.

“I hope we’re not bothering you too much. I saw the video and I really wanted to meet you and I knew Dick here would love to do some stunts of his own. Did he already tell you what you did wrong with that flip that made you lose your balance?”

“Huh? He’s good but I don’t think he’ll be flipping on skates anytime soon.”

“Oh, actually we all kind of do crazy stunts like this on a daily basis and he specializes in acrobats so I just figured he told you already.”

“Ok! I think I’m ready!” Dick called out after his fourth round skating up the hill.

“No,” Alix breathed out. “He’s not gonna do the backflip is he?”

“Yup,” Tim lightly chuckled. “Sorry we’re all a little crazy.”

“This is for you, Alix.”

“Wait, no-” but Dick ignored her and started through the course again. He skated skillfully around the cones and did a perfect pirouette over the fourth cone as if he’d been doing it for years and did his own little crazy stint with a backflip then raced towards the ramp and with straight legs he let his legs fly up and his head drop much longer than she was comfortable with, then tucked his legs in but not as much as she did and landed perfectly and glided down the hill with his arms raised up like a gymnast.

“What!?” Alix yelled. She was highly peeved. She’s been trying this for the past week and he tries and lands on the first try!? Unfair. So unfair.

“Can I try?” Tim asked. Alix whipped her head to him and scoffed.

“Not you too? You're going to just flip like it's nothing too? No. No no no. Dick!” she yelled out unintentionally calling him the American curse word in the process to the man who turned around and started towards them.

“Yeah?” Alix waited until he stopped in front of her.

“How did you do that?”

“I just waited a bit longer before tucking my knees in. I noticed that you tucked too early and brought your knees too close to your chest which made you over flip. And by waiting a little longer you would have dropped a little further so you wouldn’t have struggled with being too high.” Alix huffed in annoyance.

“Ok… ok…. My turn, I’m going to get it this time.”

Alix went to the beginning of the course and took a deep breath, blocking everything out and shot out. She did her tricks and jumps and when she got to the ramp she felt a rush of adrenaline from the slight fear. She went up as high as she could and her legs went up and her upper body dropped. She waited past her comfort zone and looked down to the approaching ground. Then everything clicked. She tucked her legs in, following Dick’s words, and straightened them out again until they were slightly bent and landed. She whooped and pumped her fists in the air. She’d finally done it! She turned back around to find Jason on the side with his camera out and cheering her on while Tim and Dick did the same but without their phones. She laughed and skated back up the hill.

“I finally got it!”

“Yes!” Tim held out a hand and she high-fived it. “That was awesome! You are amazing!” Alix grinned widely at the praise.

“Thanks! I just have to land at least ten more times in a row,” she said as she readied herself to go again.

“Wait, I can’t go yet?”

“My course, my rules.” Tim smiled and nodded his head.

“Good point.”

For the next two hours Alix skated with the two boys and conversed with Jason when she was taking a break. That’s how she found out they were in Paris because of Marinette and refused to have two boys fighting over Marinette when she was already taken, well not yet but they were determined to get their brother Damian and Marinette together. She then decided she liked Jason, despite him taking unwanted videos though they turned out to be fun to watch (she cringed when she saw herself faceplant in the first video). It was nice to see people like the three of them looking out for Marinette, heaven knows she doesn’t have a guardian angel because she gets into way too much trouble without even trying, though the three of them were also troublemakers and chaos was basically Alix’s occupation. It was 19 hours (7:00) when they had to go but Alix was very excited when they invited her over with them to meet Marinette who they hadn’t seen in several years.

---

Marinette sighed from exhaustion as she pushed the front door of her parent’s bakery open. She had been working nonstop with Jagged Stone on his new stage outfits, she loved the guy but he was a handful sometimes.

“Marinette!” She looked up and gave her mother a tired smile while the woman handed a pastry to a customer. “Have a wonderful day,” she told the customer before walking around the counter as the man left and hugged her daughter. “We have some guests who came to visit you.” Mrs. Cheng smiled brightly at Marinette who scrunched her brows together in confusion.

“Who?” Her mother shook her head and pushed her towards the entrance to their home.

“You’ll see.”

Marinette walked through the door to find Alix wrestling Jason Todd to the ground while the man was pushing her face away with a pillow and Tim Drake watching, but not really watching, as he sipped on something she assumed was coffee, and Dick Grayson who was ignoring them all, laying on the couch watching spongebob in french. She cleared her throat to get their attention but nothing happened.

“Excuse me.” she called out but again, nothing.

“ExCUSE me.” Nothing besides Alix’s ‘hmph’ as Jason flipped her over and stood up, lightly smacking her with the pillow while yelling. “Taste defeat!”

“HEY!” Marinette finally yelled out. All four heads snapped to her and everything was silent for a moment before chaos erupted and all the three boys started shouting and squealing (Dick) and clamoring for hugs.

“Mari!”

“Nettie!”

“MY FAVORITE SISTER!”

Marinette made a strangled noise as they all squeezed the life out of her. Marinette was smiling and laughing with them but was very glad when she was finally back on her own feet.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“What, we can’t visit our little sister?” Jason asked innocently and Marinette crossed her arms and looked at him with disbelief etched in every part of her.

“Ok so we heard about your situation in your class and-”

“Hey!” Alix suddenly cut in and stuttered when all eyes were on her. “I mean, hey, so I was just hanging out with these guys all day and they’re all hungry, let’s fix them something to eat?” She looked at Marinette in question then clapped her hands together and nodded once to confirm it with herself. “Yes.”

Marinette looked at her suspiciously then at her pseudo brothers who suddenly started nodding in confirmation.

“Yes, food.”

“Yup.”

“Hunger is a thing I have.” Jason’s stomach grumbled as if on cue which broke Marinette’s suspicion and she giggled at him.

“Ok, spaghetti it is. Blue Bird, you're on cutting duty, Tim-Tam, you get the ingredients, Jay-Jay…. Alix, keep Jason busy.”

After a few minutes bustling around the kitchen Marinette suddenly remembered something and she turned to Dick, “Where’s the old man?”

After dinner was made Dick bounded into her room claiming Damian was napping on her balcony which Marinette smiled to in triumph but when Damian came downstairs her triumph washed away along with her soul.

Marinette was doing fine all day. She was completely rational and fine. She was fine. Currently she is NOT fine. She is NOT ok. And as for Damian? He was fine alright. Oh boy was he fine. As soon as he walked down from her trapdoor her jaw dropped to the floor.

---

Alix shook her head, she was having quite the time watching Marinette’s reaction to her childhood friend but felt a rush of relief that she didn’t have Marinette Problems.

“Seriously, Marinette? Close your mouth.” The girl snapped her mouth shut and tore her eyes away from Damian to land on the skater.

“Alix,” she hissed, “why is he so damn hot?” Alix smirked at her friend’s rare use of a curse word and watched as Marinette’s face started to pinken and she ducked behind the kitchen counter. Alix leaned over the counter and saw the tip of her friend’s head.

“Relax,” she tried to be reassuring but couldn’t stop grinning. She heard footsteps get closer and whispered, “he’s coming,” before plopping back onto her seat.

Damian walked into Marinette’s view and stopped to look at her on the floor with a scowl that Alix was sure was not helping Marinette’s situation.

“What are you doing on the floor, Dupain-Cheng?” Alix snickered while Marinette shot up on her feet.

“He’s a male Chloe Bourgeois!” she said mostly to herself.

“None of your business. I see you haven’t changed a bit, Old Man.” Damian scoffed.

“Neither have you, it seems, Sunshine Face.” Wow. Bad nickname.

“Oh,” Marinette placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, “so you still admit my face is pretty?” Oooo, where did Marinette get her game?

“What? No. More like I can’t look at it for too long because-”

Marinette began waving her hands back and forth to get him to stop, “ok ok ok,” where was she getting this confidence? She was literally hiding from him five seconds ago. “When you explain it, it loses the humor, did you learn nothing all those years ago?” Marinette shakes her head and Alix silently agrees, “pity. Anyways, my cooking has improved, as well as everything about me, I have clearly surpassed you, and here is some spaghetti we made while you were napping.” She grabbed a plate and waved her hand towards the food still on the stove while handing it to him, “help yourself.” She walked by him and headed to the couch where Jason and Dick had settled and plopped between them while they played video games. Alix nodded in approval as she watched Marinette walk away. When she turned back she found Damian watching her as well with cheeks slightly tinted pink. Wow. Does every boy she talks to fall for her? Even Kagami, poor soul, had fallen for Marinette as quickly as she could say “Begone, Adrien.”

This is going to be a fun week.

---

Marinette groaned in despair. Nino walked in with a blue shirt with a white outline of Adrien’s face like he was some kind of pop star and a red hat that of course said “Team Adrien”

“What's next,” Marinette mumbled to herself while leaning back and crossing her arms, “Team Damian?” Marinette heard a gasp and turned to see Alix staring at her like she had the greatest idea ever.

Very suddenly things clicked for Marinette. Her classmates were picking sides of who she should date. Adrien or Luka. It was literally the only connection she could find between the two boys, they only had about one or two conversations together in their entire lives and Marinette was definitely terrible at keeping her crushes secret so there was no way that at least Kitty Section would know about it. And thinking about Kitty Section they were the ones who started it. Oh no. Marinette made those shirts. Does Luka know? Probably. Adrien definitely doesn’t. Wwwooowww. Some friends she has.

And now Alix.

That BRAT! She was typing something on her phone… oh no.

“Alix,” Marinette said slowly as if approaching a rabid dog while unraveling her arms from her body. “Alix, no!” She jumped from her seat and lunged for the skater over Mylene who merely leaned back in her seat as if she’d been through this a million times. Alix jumped back while continuing to type then very clearly pressing send. “Noooooo…” Marinette slumped onto Mylene’s lap who patted the top of her head in pity.

She laid there for a moment taking in Mylene’s silent comfort before slowly standing up and ignoring everyone’s stares. She straightened her clothes saying a polite, “thank you, Mylene,” and a nod at her before focusing her gaze on Alix. “You’re dead, Kubdel,” she said then turning around and sitting straight backed on her seat trying desperately to ignore another snapshot of Adrien in a Gabriel line of workout clothes showing off his muscles on the back of Nino’s new shirt.

Marinette was slowly losing her mind.

---

The next day Alix walked in with a black shirt with green bold font saying “TEAM DAMIAN” on the front and she could feel Marinette staring daggers at her. She purposefully exposed her back to the class so they could see the “FIND YOUR OWN GIRL” printed on the back.

Alix ignored the stares while pulling out her school things until she heard Lila’s sickening sweet voice call out to, “who’s Damian?” Alix waited for a beat to make sure everyone was listening before smiling smugly, she couldn’t help it, and shrugging.

“Damian Wayne, obviously.”

---

Marinette would deny it but she felt a sick sort of satisfaction when Lila’s face paled.

BONUS:

“Plagg!” Adrien sounded exasperated and the little god chuckled evilly. It was such fun to tease his holder. The boy hadn’t caught on that his infatuation with Ladybug was just that: infatuation. He couldn’t see that he merely admired the girl, his father saw to it that Adrien was so sheltered that he couldn’t separate his feelings of the different types of love.

“Just saying, I know what you're doing there, “chaton”,” plagg mimicked Luka’s voice perfectly on the last word which instantly made Adrien become very red in the face, “you and I know what team you play for.” He threw the boy a wink and cackled before leaving him to ponder his words as he searched for more Camembert.

---

Felix rolled his eyes at his phone and quickly pressed the unfollow button on his cousin. What an embarrassment. He had absolutely no clue what he was throwing away because of his naïvety.

---

“I can feel your rage from here, Kagami.”

“Sorry, mother.” Kagami’s mother nodded her head as an acceptance of her apology.

“I’ve heard about that pesky little feud Gabriel’s child is in.” She stayed quiet for a moment but Kagami didn’t break the silence. “You are a Tsurugi, Kagami. No hesitation.” Kagami couldn’t stop the little smile that slid onto her face.

“Yes, mother,” she said quietly.

-------

Team Luka:

Lila, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, Sabrina, Adrien

Team Adrien:

Alya, Chloe, Nino, Kim, Max, Mylene

Team Damian:

Alix, Dick, Tim, Jason, Bruce

some long ass notes:

I didn’t add kagami and felix into the mix because it would really complicate things but for clarification in my mind Marinette and everyone is between 14-16 and Marinette doesn’t know it but she does have feelings for kagami but she's focused on the other two boys, she knows she likes boys and doesn't want to think about girls since it would complicate her situation and open a door to many more problems with her poor little teen heart. Kagami knows she likes Marinette though, she took one look at marinette and said “nope. Bye Adrien.”

SO i think it be pretty cool if whoever wants to can reply with their own versions of whatever ships they want and the characters interactions with them. I won’t be actually putting any characters together as to leave the imagination up to the reader but if you want you can go ahead and add yourselves to whatever team you want (:

Part 1

@miracleofadisaster @consumeconstantly @mermaidreject @alenee13 @how-to-fuction-properly @dreamykitty25 @certifiedbidisaster @kris-pines04 @ira-sairain @crystalangelluna @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @our-preciousss @iamabrownfox @susiej1118 @thenillabean @tired-butterfly @fantasyislive @prudencerika @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @clumsy-owl-4178 @notmycupoftea26 @iamablinkmarvelarmy

#adrinette #lukanette #daminette #what team #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #lil bit of lila salt but she's struggling #adrien x marinette #luka x marinette #damian x marinette #ok its too long i dont wanna reread it imma post it

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solastia · 7 years ago

Text

Sandcastles | Prologue

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (This will be told from Reader’s POV for the prologue, but after this, it’s going to be from Namjoon’s POV. I figured she deserved to have her side seen first)

Word Count: 2,205

Genre & Warnings: Angst. Mentions of sex. Infidelity.

Notes: Oh wow, cheating. Not an overused plot at all. Ok, but hear me out. So, I was catching up with the last season of Outlander on my lunch break (seriously watch it, so good) and as they started showing Frank and Claire's marriage, it got me wondering about Frank’s mindset. This story isn’t going to be the same as their’s, but it just made me want to do something using the mentality of the person that is going around with other people while being in an open relationship. Not that I’m knocking those that choose to be in one, you do whatever works for you. But I’m here to write drama, so don’t hate me! (Also, the title is me being all artsy and cool. You build these great sandcastles, and they get washed away) (P.P.S. Yes, this gave me Tuqburni feels too. But trust me, it’s going to be entirely different.)

You arrive at your boyfriend’s workplace with heavy bags filled with food and snacks, even a couple beers. Namjoon had been working so hard lately now that he got promoted and was a big producer at his company, and you worried about him not eating real meals given his tendency to lose himself in his work. He always made fun of his coworker Yoongi for the same thing, not realizing he was just as bad.

You walk out of the elevator and go to the area where all the producers stayed. Most of them had their own little rooms since many of them were workaholics and stayed overnight, and some were just perfectionists that could only work by themselves. You’re surprised to see Jungkook, a sweet kid that looked up to Namjoon and treated you like a big sister, hanging outside of Namjoon’s studio with tears falling and staring at his phone. Namjoon had been producing for the boy for about a year now, and while he was a perfectionist, he’d never come down hard on Jungkook before so you were a little worried.

“Jungkook, what’s the matter, sweetheart?” You ask quietly, setting down your bags to wipe his tears.

Jungkook is looking at you with almost frantic worry, his eyes going between you and the door to Namjoon’s studio.

“You can’t be here, Y/N. You shouldn’t see this. I’m so mad at him. I hate him for doing this to you. I was going to tell you, I was just trying to get the courage.” He briefly flashes his phone in front of your face where there is indeed a text drafted to your name that hasn’t been sent yet. Before you can ask him what it’s about you hear it.

A moan.

A female moan.

Coming from your boyfriend’s studio.

Your eyes glue themselves to the door, and your heart is pounding in your chest. You can feel tingles of anticipation spreading across your skin, and your breathing becomes erratic.

You hear the familiar sound of Namjoon groaning and cursing, meaning he’d cum. If he followed his usual pattern, he’d walk out in a moment to get a bottle of water.

Please. Please. Just let him be watching porn on a really great sound system.

Jungkook is trying to talk you into going away, telling you that you don’t need to this. But you do. You need to see. You need to look into the eyes of the man that you love and see what’s there.

You hear a click and watch the door swing open almost in slow motion, your eyes raising to meet his as he walks into the hallway.

Surprise. A flash of happiness. Panic as he remembers what’s behind him and what he’d been doing. Sadness as he takes in the tears that had started to fall from your eyes.

You scan him from head to toe next, cataloging everything in your brain like this was a science experiment, and you were collecting data. You took in the slight sheen of sweat. The flushed face and ears. The scratch marks on his shoulders that ruled out any hope he’d been alone.

“Baby, please. Don’t freak out. I’m sorry! I just...”

“Namjoon, what’s going on out here? I thought you were getting water?” A melodic voice asked, peering out from behind him as she came out of the studio.

She was beautiful. Of course she was. Long black hair, red lips and nails, was probably at least four inches taller than you. Legs perhaps as long as most of your body.

If you had to guess, you’d say she was probably the new act he’d been talking about. He’d been writing songs for her upcoming album for a couple months now. Songs you remember helping him with, as a matter of fact.

“Go away. You’ve done enough.” Jungkook grits out, glaring at the girl who turns to him in surprise. She glances between the three of you, her eyes widening as she realizes the situation. Without another word, she rushes off.

“Baby, please come talk to me. I’m sorry, please.” He’s trying to pull you into his studio, a place you’d been in many times. A place you’d help decorate and made love in so many times. And now it was tainted. You pull your arm away.

“I’m not going in there, Namjoon.” You croak out, your voice hard to use as you fight off the breakdown that’s threatening to take over.

He looks behind him, flinching as he realizes. “Oh, yeah of course. This next one is empty. Just please, talk to me, don’t run off.” He pleads, and you let him pull you into the next room after reassuring Jungkook you’d be fine. You just want to go home and curl under the blankets. But you have to know...

“Why? Four years, Namjoon. I trusted you. How could you do this to me? You threw away four years of our lives. Unless you’ve been doing this the whole time.”

“No. Fuck, no. Baby, never before. It’s always only been you. This was just...I just got caught up in a moment and lost my damn mind.” He’s looking down at his hands, and his jaw is clenched hard. His go-to look when he’s beating himself up. You fight off the force of habit to comfort him because it’s not him that needs cheering right now.

“Are you in love with her?” You force yourself to ask.

“No. It’s just...sex.” He whispers the last word, wincing as he does so, knowing it’s fucked up to use that word in reference to someone else. “I love you, just you.” He stares as he says it like he’s trying to force you to believe it.

“You don’t hurt people that you love, Namjoon. And I am so fucking hurt right now. Do you know the quickest way to give someone self-esteem issues, to make them doubt their self-worth? To ensure that they never trust anyone ever again? By cheating on them, that’s how.” You're finally letting your anger take over, and all you want to do is scream and cry, throw some of these fancy chairs at him. Maybe hit them both over with your car.

But then you take a good look at him. At the tears running down his face, the clenched fists, and red ears. He’s still your Joonie, beating himself up over a fuck up. No one could punish Kim Namjoon quite like himself.

A smart girl would have left the moment she’d seen what had happened. A smart girl wouldn’t still be here listening to this. And a smart girl wouldn’t be trying to think of ways to fix this. However, the man before you was the love of your life. He was smart and funny, talented, and usually sweet and romantic. He was your Joonie, and the thought of telling him to move out and leave you alone forever seemed even more heartbreaking than the cheating.

“I need to know something now before I make any decisions. Is it because of me? Is there something I’m not doing for you? Do you want out of the relationship? I need you to be fucking honest as hell right now.” You ask, forcing him to look you in the eyes with a finger on his chin.

“No, no babe. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re as amazing as always. I don’t know what happened. I just...got caught up because it was...new? Exciting? Different? I don’t know. Everything I can think of sounds fucked up. I just know that I don’t want to lose you. I’ll do anything.” He pleased, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips to kiss the backs of them.

You sigh heavily, trying to run through every scenario you can think of in your head. You cringe at most of them and realize you’re probably going to be a dumb girl today and do something so fucking stupid.

“We have a few options here, Namjoon. None of them are great. One, which is the smart choice that we probably won’t take because we are both idiots today, we break up here and now. You move out and find someone that makes you happy and complete like I’m obviously not doing.” You gesture for him to remain quiet when you see him open his mouth to refute you.

“Two. We go on like nothing has happened and I try to learn to trust you again. Only I don’t know when or if I’ll ever be able to. I’ll probably wake up every morning wondering if this is the day you get bored of me again. We’d probably end up breaking up during this scenario too because I’d be constantly waiting for something to happen and you’d get sick of me.”

You take a deep breathe as you think the next one through. This one was the only way you could think of to keep him. You anticipated a lot of pain on your side, but you’d get to keep Joonie. Some of him, at least.

“Three. We have an open relationship.” You rush out the words as you observe his reaction. His eyes widen, and his jaw slackens, his gaze searching yours.

“An open relationship? We’d both see other people but still be together? That’s what you want?” He asks, shock coloring his features.

“It’s not really what I want. But what I want didn’t work for us, did it? So, we do what nature tends to do. We change and adapt. You’re bored with me and want to fuck other people even though you claim you’re still in love with me, fine. It’s not cheating if I’m telling you that you can. We’ll establish rules, and you come home to me every night.”

You stand up and look down at him, observing as he brushes angrily at his tears. He’s nodding to himself in thought, apparently trying to think things through and make sense of everything.

“Joon, I suggest you stay with Yoongi for the rest of the week and think things over. I’ll send over some of your clothes and stuff. By the way, there’s food and beer in the bags I brought over. Make sure to eat.” You sigh and turn to the door to leave.

As you step out into the hallway, you hear Namjoon whisper, “Wait.” You pause with your hand on the door handle but don’t look at him. The tears are already falling, and he doesn’t deserve to see you cry anymore.

“I love you,” he says softly, and your chest physically hurts.

You close the door behind you without responding, rushing to leave so you can at least make it to your car before you break down.

I love you too, Kim Namjoon.

God, this is going to hurt.

#kkreationsnet #KWritersKollection #kpopwritingnet #btswriters #BTS #Kim Namjoon #Namjoon angst #Namjoon fic #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts angst #Namjoon smut #Kpop fanfiction #Kpop Fanfic #bts smut #namjoon x reader

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reds-self-ships · 3 years ago

Text

🔍 The Adventure of the Detection Club

Chapter 13: Witness Testimony & Cross Examination - Det. Athelney Jones and The Coroner

Table of Contents & Trigger Warnings

⚠ Chapter Specific Warnings: Contains allusions to spoilers for The Great Ace Attorney 2, as well as passing references made to blood and gore.

Detective Athelney Jones took to the witness stand, his trademark cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth and the end of it carefully targeted so that the ash fell into the breast pocket of his faded grey overcoat, the usual disdainful snarl on his face.

Dr. Yujin Mikotoba was as straight-faced as ever, having changed his medical get-up to his much more formal and fashionable dark blue western-style suit with a red cravat and gold pin and a black fedora hat with a white band around it.

Abidon spoke: “Will the witnesses state their name and occupation for the record?”

“I’m Detective Athelney Jones, part of Scotland Yard’s criminal investigative division, and I’m the detective that was assigned to investigate this particular case.”

“And I’m Dr. Yujin Mikotoba. I’m a professor of medical science at Imperial Yumei University, but I’m the current acting coroner on behalf of Scotland Yard.”

“Detective Jones,” said Abidon, “why is it that you believed Mr. Ninate, the defendant, to be the killer?”

“It’s as you’ve already explained, prosecutor—the defendant was the only one who had access to the scene of the crime at the time. Not only that, but we are confident that we are able to prove the defendant’s motive, means andopportunity for the incident.”

“Excellent. Please testify your reason for believing in the defendant’s guilt, detective,” said the Judge.

Witness Testimony

Motive, Means and Opportunity For Murder

“This crime is an almost perfect recreation of a so-called ‘locked room mystery’,” testified Jones. “At the crime scene there is a thick impenetrable door, with a recently-designed lock that is specially designed to break and become entirely unusable if anybody were to attempt to pick it or fiddle with it in any manner.

“The only person who had access to a key for this impenetrable door was the defendant himself—something that he’s admitted to already. The key that the defendant owns is the only copy in existence.

“As for motive and means, the defendant, who has anger issues already; given that he’s become aggressive towards officers, such as myself, on numerous occasions—”

“—I have not! And if I did it was probably bloody well deserved!”

The judge hit his gavel. “The defendant will remain quiet whilst the detective testifies!”

“As I was saying,” Jones continued with a sniff, “I’m no alienist or whatever fancy titles they have out there these days, but I would likely guess that Mr. Thomas told the victim that he was going to refuse payment or something which caused the defendant to fly into a rage.

“With that, he grabbed the closest thing to him, which was that skull over there, and used it to knock clobber the victim over the ‘ead until he stopped twitching about. At least that’s what I’d reckon anyway.”

“The prosecution makes a rather compelling argument,” said the judge with a nod. “But this is, indeed, the most peculiar kind of case that we’re examining at the moment.”

“HOLD IT!”

“Milord, may I ask the defendant a question?” asked the first juror, pulling a pair of goggles over her eyes.

“Juror #1? Er, yes, well I suppose you might as well…”

“OK defendant, what kinda lock are we talking about?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well?”

“Well it’s a new-ish one, got it installed directly from Chubb.”

“And what’s the name of it?”

“Eh?”

“What’s the model, what’re we talking about?”

“I think it was model #813 or something like that, miss. But what’s that got to do with anything?”

“I know it well. See, I’m an engineer myself and I’ve installed that kind of lock before. I can vouch for that Detective Jones’s statement that it’s designed not to be picked or fiddled about with. So I could definitely say I’ve made up my mind anyway. Guilty!”

With that, she knocked a rather heavy-looking metal drill upon the jury’s bench and sent a fireball soaring through the air and into the “guilty” side of the scales, tipping it further towards the prosecution.

“I, too, have experience in these locks, and they are incredibly fiddly little things,” said the fifth juror, “So I would say myself that this defendant is almost certainly…Guilty!”

The fifth juror launched another fireball, with the scale tipped increasingly in favour of the prosecution.

“It’s only three out of six, Mr. Naruhodo. That’s only fifty per-cent,” said Susato quietly.

“I, er, have specific experience in handling locked rooms myself,” said the sixth juror, playing with her hair. “And if it means that there was absolutely no way for anybody else to get into the room besides the defendant, there was no way for anybody to get inside of the room besides the defendant…Guilty!”

Another fireball was launched into the scale, tilting it over two-thirds towards the prosecution.

“Or maybe now it’s sixty-six per-cent,” said Susato. “Either way, we’ve not lost yet. We still get to launch our cross-examination!”

“You’re right,” said Ryunosuke, stroking his chin with his hand. “There’s definitely some way we might be able to contradict that annoying detective’s testimony. And who knows…maybe your father will prove to be of some help as well…”

Dr. Yujin Mikotoba winked at Ryunosuke quietly.

Cross Examination

“So you say, Detective Jones, that you believe the defendant to have anger issues,” said Ryunosuke. “Why do you think that is?”

“Well given the tirade of oaths he swore at me and several police officers when we were arresting him, and throughout this investigation, I think that’d be rather obvious to me, wouldn’t you agree, defence?”

“I…well…I’m not very well-up on my English swear words, detective…”

“Well if I weren’t in court right now, I’d teach you one. A two-word phrase, the second one’s ‘off’.”

“Detective Jones, there’s no need for any kind of foul language in this courtroom – be it properly verbalised or implied!” called the judge.

Detective Jones seemed flustered for a moment, his cigar almost dropping from his mouth and into his pocket, but he just about managed to catch it with his hand. “Oh! Er…understood milord…forgive me, I’d forgotten myself for a moment there…”

But it was then that something seemed to “click” in Ryunosuke’s mind as he slammed the bench with his hands.

“Detective Jones, it appears that you’ve not only forgotten yourself in your behaviour in the courtroom…”

“What the devil are you on about, defence? I’m doing almost everything I should be doing!” The business end of Jones’s cigar smouldered furiously.

“Objection!”

“You appear to have forgotten something that occurred during the course of the investigation yesterday—was it not revealed yesterday that someone else might well have had access to the room? A third party, that is?”

Some ash crumbled into Jones’s breast pocket as he suddenly remembered: “Uh oh.”

“‘Uh oh’ indeed, detective,” said Ryunosuke with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face. “Surely you remember yesterday, it was discovered that there were at least two keys to the room, and not just one?”

“This is not a matter that the prosecution is aware of, milord…Detective Jones, would you mind filling us in?” said Abidon with a raised eyebrow.

“Yesterday, the police apprehended someone attempting to enter the crime scene unlawfully, but as it turns out, it was a member of the Detection Club itself, who we’re now holding in custody. An ‘Arthur Conan Doyle’, sir. He claims to have had access to the room at some point in the hours before the discovery of the victim’s body, wanting to use some special ink that belonged to the defendant. It was when he spilled some of the ink that he left, later to return to the scene of the crime yesterday in an attempt to clean it up.”

“I see…” said Abidon, adjusting his glasses. “And why was I not informed of this fact until now?”

“Well we’ve been very busy down at the Yard of late, sir, dealing with a large number of appeals related to the Professor incident of a few months ago. So much so we’re practically drowning in paperwork.”

“Still—whether the prosecution was or wasn’t originally aware of this fact doesn’t change anything!” cried Ryunosuke. “The defence asserts that the very existence of this ‘second key’ could be proof that a third party—perhaps even Mr. Doyle himself—could have been responsible for the murder, and not the defendant!”

The judge moved to speak: “That’s an excellent po—”

“HOLD IT!”

interjected Detective Jones. “Milord, as a precaution, I’ve already personally seen that this matter is investigated, as a matter of personal pride.”

“Once again, detective, I’m unable to show a full appreciation of this fact seeing as I was, once again, not informed of this matter. However,” added Abidon, “given that your annual salary review meeting is due to take place next week, I’m sure you’ll appreciate my recommendation for the outcome.”

More ash from the working end of the detective’s cigar crumbled into his breast pocket.

“(Oh dear…it looks like Detective Jones isn’t exactly expecting a positive outcome from that meeting…)” thought Ryunosuke.

“Er anyway—we were able to confirm Mr. Doyle’s alibi with a Mr. Inkwell, who runs a stationary shop on Oxford Street that is frequented by Mr. Doyle and other members of the Detection Club, who said that the witness visited him around the estimated time of death to procure a bottle of ink remover.

“However the witness had to return straight home immediately after purchasing the ink, according to his secretary, Mrs. Turner, as he had a number of patients to attend to at his own practice over on Upper Wimpole Street.”

“I see. Excellent work, detective. However, it unfortunately doesn’t make up for your uncharacteristic breach of proper procedure and due process.”

“In that case, the prosecution’s case still stands rather firmly,” said the judge, adjusting his own white powdered wig.

“And in that case, the defence would like to resume its cross-examination,” said Ryunosuke.

Prosecutor Abidon sneered. “Well I can’t see anything productive that will come of it, but the prosecution otherwise has no objections – if the defence will concede to the truth of the matter that is if nothing new can be proven.”

“Detective, please resume your testimony then, please,” ordered the judge.

“Well there’s nothing more for me to say, really. Just that the cause of death was rather obvious, in that we allege that the defendant did savagely hit the victim over the head repeatedly with the skull, quite a bit after a point where anyone could say the man was deceased.”

“Anybody at all, you say?”

“Yes. Anybody; be they a police detective, a defence attorney, a medical doctor or Joe Bloggs off the street; would be able to see that repeated blunt-force trauma to the skull was the clear-cut cause of death.”

Dr. Yujin Mikotoba quietly hummed to himself, carefully stroking his moustache.

“’Scuse me!”

“Professor Mikotoba, do you have anything to say on the matter?” asked Ryunosuke.

“Mm? Oh…please, young Ryunosuke, we’re not in university at the moment. ‘Dr. Mikotoba’ will do just fine,” he said with a warm smile.

“(In what way is that any less formal?) OK then, Dr. Mikotoba, do you have anything to say on the matter? You looked as though you were rather deep in thought there when Detective Jones mentioned that, quote; ‘repeated blunt-force trauma to the skull was the clear-cut cause of death’.”

“Well that’s because it is!” said Jones with a start. “…Isn’t it?”

“That’s the issue. You see, I have previous experience with dealing with poisons and in working in pathology – I was a student of Dr. John H. Wilson, actually – but anyway, part of what my time spent studying has been poisons and a new method of post-mortem examination.

“Mainly – I’ll try and cut the jargon as much as I can, I promise – ways of studying injuries acquired post-mortem.”

“Injuries acquired post-mortem?”

“Yes. The human body can still trigger certain reactions after death as decomposition begins. And the body can be injured after death too—which can affect a corpse or cadaver differently compared to those who are still living.

“I’ve been spending quite a lot of time over the last day examining the body and the so-called murder weapon, the one that is in the police and prosecution’s official custody at this time, may not necessarily be the one that caused the death of Mr. Thomas.”

A fit of murmuring erupted around the gallery.

“B-But!” protested Jones, standing over the man next to him, “you’ve mentioned before that the victim was beaten with that skull. I mean even a blind man could see that at fifty yards away!”

“Yes, the victim was beaten with the skull, rather savagely I might add. But! Having examined the injuries, I have reason to believe that these injuries may have been applied after death and not at any point before it.”

“In other words, there may have been a different cause of death, Dr. Mikotoba?”

“Precisely, young Ryunosuke. I’ve not yet had the chance to officially confirm the cause of death.”

“And if you were to speculate, doctor?” asked Abidon.

“To speculate?”

“Yes. Clearly you believe you may well be onto something, so would you please inform this court of what cause or causes of death you’re investigating?”

“Well,” responded Dr. Mikotoba, adjusting his hat, “I believe that the cause of death may well be related to my other ‘speciality’. Poison, that is.

“I conducted an examination of the victim’s fingernails and there were clear signs of changes in pigmentation—that is, the colour—of the fingernail, and the particular smell of garlic around the lips, yet there was no signs of the victim having consumed garlic prior to death, according to the contents of his stomach.

“As such, I have reason to believe that Mr. Harris’s cause of death was not blunt force trauma as the initial post-mortem examination might have shown it to be. Instead, I have reason to believe that the cause of death in this matter was arsenic poisoning, given the presence of the by-product, arsine.”

The gallery began murmuring again.

“Arsine? Isn’t that the name of that London-based football club?”

“No, that’s Arsenal you wally! Arsine is the name of that French thief!”

“No, that’s Larsene Aupin!”

The judge hit his gavel several times. “Order! Order! There is no need for any kind of running commentary from the gallery!”

“Surely if a different cause of death has been prescribed by the medical examiner in this case,” argued Susato, “this means that it is now rather unlikely for Redford to have used been the actual culprit!”

“Yeah! I haven’t been to the chemist of late, and even then I wouldn’t go anywhere near arsenic unless I had to…dreadful stuff…”

Prosecutor Abidon chuckled.

“If that is to be the defence’s argument, then the prosecution would like to present what could be considered a key piece of evidence that is yet to have been considered by this court, and a piece that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, will prove the defendant’s guilt beyond any kind of reasonable doubt!”

The remaining jurors who had yet to cast their vote all seemed to sit further forwards in their seats.

“Recovered, yesterday from the scene of the crime,” said the prosecutor, taking out a brown envelope from underneath the prosecution’s bench, “was a particular belonging of the defendant – namely one that had been put away into the storage room in the headquarters of the Detection Club.”

“H-Hey!” cried Redford, standing up in the dock. “What are you doing! Get your hands off of that! That’s private!”

He was immediately restrained held back into his seat by two bailiffs.

“The prosecution would like to admit this manuscript into the court record—‘Fizzing Arsenic’ by Redford Ninate – written by the defendant in his own handwriting. A piece of writing that proves beyond any shadow of a doubt that the defendant did know how to conduct cyanide poisoning and obscure the cause of death. In this case, through beating the victim’s corpse in such a way that it is rendered unidentifiable by the character in the novel!”

“Gah! Redford, why didn’t you tell us you’d written such a thing?!” exclaimed Ryunosuke.

“Because I didn’t think it mattered!” he replied. “And anyway, it’s a work of fiction. Just because I write murder mysteries doesn’t make me a murderer mysteriously, now does it?!”

“That is true…Milord! This defence contests this evidence as being completely circumsta—!”

“Hold it!”

“Milord, I believe that we may have come to the conclusion of this matter,” said the fourth juror, tenting his fingers as he smoked his pipe. “For we have eliminated the impossible and what remains is what is the most probable of truths. The defendant…is a poisoner!”

He hit his hand off of the bench and a fireball went soaring through the air and into the “guilty” side of the scale.

“There’s just one juror left who hasn’t found Redford guilty,” said Susato, who was now beginning to sound rather anxious herself. “That gentleman sat in the middle…”

“Is it just me or does he look rather familiar…?”

“Now that you mention it, he does, but I just can’t…wait…isn’t that…?”

The two said at once: “Soseki-san?!”

As if on cue, the third juror, Soseki, shouted:

“持て！”

The cats that were clambering all over him and his kimono seemed to be otherwise unaffected by such a shout.

“Milord! I’ve been listening to this case for quite some time now—as much as I’ve not wanted to be here—and I believe that I’ve arrived at my own conclusion…”

Soseki began to strike various poses.

“The defendant! Is! Guilty!”

With a karate-style chop of his hand on the bench, a fireball flew through the air and landed in the guilty side of the scale, finally tilting it all the way to the right and releasing a belch of flame into the air.

(G-Guilty?! There’s no way I’m about to let it end like this…I have to get a Not Guilty verdict, no matter the cost!)

Ryunosuke hit the defence bench with both hands. “Milord! The defence requests its immediate right to a summation examination of the jury’s findings on the case!”

The judge rolled his eyes, wondering why he himself ever believed that the case might have been an open-and-shut one and he might’ve gotten to go home early that day.

“I’ll allow it. The defence may begin its summation examination. Is the jury prepared?”

The first juror replied, revving a large metal riveting machine into the air. “We’re ready and revving to go, milord!”

“Excellent. The floor is yours, defence.”

#the adventure of the detection club #OTP: Red Dragon #fanfiction #self insert fic #tgaa 2 spoilers #story #murder mystery

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00qad-ldws · 7 years ago

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Week 2 Submissions

Below the cut are Week 2 submissions. The prompt was “not the laptop”, the word count was 2-0 max and the challenge was “Dialogue only”.

Voting and comments will be open until Monday 6/26 Noon EST.

Please Vote here

Last week we were regarded with some amazing content. This week the Writers upped their game (how is that possible??!) and there are more amazing pieces to read. Please consider commenting on the voting form. It’s an easy anonymous way to show some love and support to our writers!

Results and writers will be announced Monday after voting is closed and comments will be emailed to the writers as well.

Title: Cracking the Code

Author: @iamanonniemouse

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Summary: In which Danny rarely says what he actually means. Alex translates.

“James, can you pass me the thing?”

“The—Danny, what the hell are you on about?”

“You know, the, the clicky thing right there.”

“This?”

“No, not the laptop, the clicky thing!”

“What are we discussing in here?”

“Q, what does Danny mean by ‘clicky thing’?”

“Hm. Is it this?”

“No, I don't want Alex's laptop, guys, come on!”

“If you could be more specific, perhaps?”

“Piss off, James! Alex can always figure it out.”

“Sorry, but we aren't half as brilliant as Turner. Clearly.”

“All I want is the—Alex! Can you pass me the clicky thing?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“You just passed him the stapler.”

“Yes.”

“It doesn't even click!”

“Shut up, Q!”

“Sometimes it almost does.”

“Don't defend him, Alex. Danny's just weird, that's all.”

“Yes. But not in a bad way.”

“Wow, thanks, Alex. Hey, while you're over there, can you grab me the bubble thing? Thank you.”

“...It’s called a fizzy drink!”

Title: Guilty?

Author: @sunaddicted

Rating: G

Warnings: it's angsty, folks

Summary: sometimes, trusting people is the only thing you can do

"Would you like some tea?"

"How polite. However, it would be quite problematic, drinking tea with my hands shackled to the table"

"Q, you're really not in the position of making sarcasm"

"Tell me James, what have I left to lose?"

"Please"

"Oh, I see. They thought that a friendly face might loosen my tongue, didn't they?"

"Christ I'm trying to help you!"

"James, you're not as influential as you fancy yourself to be: the higher ups are using our relationship to get what they want "

"Why do you think they sent me here?"

"Because you didn't find it"

"We did find your laptop, Q"

"No, not the laptop. It's useless in your hands, anyway"

"What are they looking for, then?"

"The chip, obviously, but you knew that already"

"Where is it, Q?"

"..."

"TELL ME!"

"Don't shout at me, James"

"Where. Is. It?"

"... I destroyed it"

"So, they were telling the truth: you're a traitor"

"Do you really think that I could be a terrorist? God, I'm surprised you haven't shot me yourself yet"

"I love you, Q. But I don't understand what game you're playing at"

"Trust me then. Please"

Title: Awkwardly perfect Author: @blood-suits-and-tears Rating: G Warnings: read some parts with a bit of irony or sarcasm 😊 Summary: quiet Sunday dinner in the 00qad household

“Not the laptop!”

“I’m taking it away. I’ve warned you”

“Let me just finish-“

“No”

“We’re all waiting for you two…”

“At least he let me save what I was working on”

“Yeah, he learned from the time I gave him faulty equipment to test as he took my laptop away…”

“Dinner is getting cold”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“I know you get carried away. Just come sit down now, I’m starving… I tried a bit earlier, but I had to make sure it was right for all of your different tastes”

“We really do appreciate it, thank you, Danny”

“It all looks great… and tastes amazing”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full”

“Not sorry, just too good”

“You could at least try to be civilised… at times”

“Never”

“I don’t know how we deserve each other sometimes”

“We just complement one another perfectly…occasionally in awkward ways but nonetheless”

“And we make time and spend it together, like now”

“…but I really should get back to work…”

“What did I just say about time together”

“You’re a fast worker, you’ll be fine”

“You’re not bringing the laptop out here. We’re spending quality time together and you deserve a break, Alex”

Title: Ravelry

Author: @gwylliondream

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Summary: Danny and his lovers take up a new hobby.

“I can't believe you guys are actually interested in knitting.”

“Anything for you, Danny.”

“It will give 009 something to do, besides pestering me for mods to his Aston.”

“I still haven't forgiven you for that.”

“Liar.”

“Alright, now that we’ve learned to cast on, it’s time to make socks.”

“I sincerely hope word of this doesn't get back to 6.”

“I swear I won't mention it to M when I stop to visit.”

“You're on better terms with him than most. How can we be sure that we can trust you?”

“Alex!”

“I can't believe he just said that.”

“He's bluffing. You guys know that he trusts me with his life. Okay, the next thing we need to learn is the magic loop method.”

“Sounds kinky.”

“I'll show you my magic loop.”

“Oh, please.…”

“Load up the instructions.”

“Bossy.”

“You love it.”

“What's the name of that knitting site again?”

“Not the laptop, just use your mobile.”

“I can't see anything on that microscopic screen. Use his laptop.”

“Go to ravelry.com.”

“Thanks, love.”

“Oooh, look at those socks!”

“I'll knit you each a pair for Christmas.”

“Oh, James, will you really?”

“With pleasure, my dears… with pleasure.”

Title: Technical Support

Author: @iambid

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Summary: James interferes.

“Give us a kiss.”

“James. I’ve told you a million times – not while I’m working.”

“It’s Saturday. You should be relaxing. Just a quick one.”

“Don’t pout at me like that. It’s most unbecoming in a man of your age.”

“A man of my age? You cheeky scamp. I’ve more energy than the three of you put together!”

“And yet the answer is still no.”

“Just a quick fumble.”

“Sod off. I just need to get Danny’s… arrrghmmmmmph!”

“Hehehe. C’mon baby, that’s it. Spread your legs for me… get your bum up on the desk…”

“You’re a beast… a menace to society… oh God, that feels good… right there. Yes… Mind my cup of tea! Noooo!! Not the laptop!!”

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed. I’ve been working on installing a new camera in it all bloody morning so Danny can Skype Alex while he’s in America…”

“Q, did you manage to finish my… What the hell’s happened to my laptop?!”

“Oh Danny, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. James just spilt my tea on it. It’s OK though I just need to get the cover off and then I can dry it out.”

“Q?”

“Yes darling?”

“Shouldn’t you put your underpants back on first?”

Title: Poor Form

Author: @brookebond

Beta: @jambees221b

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Summary: Bond is away on a mission. Alex and Danny are out of the flat. Q has a bit of time with some pictures.

“Did you get the pictures?”

“Mmmm… Yes. Who would have thought our beloved quartermaster had a penchant for lace?”

“If you show anyone—”

“I wouldn’t dare, pet.”

“Good.”

“Have you opened my gift yet?”

“The email? I’m looking at it now.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“—”

“You are, aren’t you? God that’s hot.”

“—”

“Talk to me, Q. Tell me what you’re doing.”

“James…”

“Shall I tell you what to do?”

“Please.”

“If I was there, I’d have you splayed out in one of those little lacy things you seem to like.”

“Oh yes. The red ones.”

“Mmmm yes, those were my favourite. Would you hold still or would I have to tie you up? I know you love the feel of my silk ties restraining you.”

“Please… Oh James—”

“That’s it, Q. I love hearing you fall apart. Imagine me there, between your legs, tongue pressing into you.”

“Oh James… I’m going to—”

“Come for me.”

“James!”

“Yes, you’re perfect Q... Oh God...”

“—”

“Shit…”

“What’s wrong?”

“The laptop got in the way.”

“Oh, Q... Not the laptop. Come’s so hard to clean. What will Danny say?”

“Shut up.”

“It was Alex’s again, wasn’t it?”

Title: Standby

Author: @lille082

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: Brief mention of (prescription) drug use;

Summary: Q isn’t the best when it comes to traveling…

“Are you all set, love?”

“Er…just grabbing- “

“No, Q. Not the laptop.”

“But-“

“Babe, James is right. We’re going to relax. You’d be distracted the whole time because somebody fed their gun to a shark or something.”

“If anything happens, R will call me or James.”

“Fine…but if we get stranded in Seychelles because WWIII starts, you’re all to blame.”

“We better leave.”

“Have you got-“

“In my pocket.”

“And Eve has-”

“I gave it to her yesterday.”

“Oh, I forgot-“

“Hey, look at me, Q. Relax. Breathe. We’ve got this, okay?”

“Okay…but what if-“

“You should take a Xanax now, then another on the plane.”

“I-I guess, yeah. Thanks, Alex.”

“Just think, Q We’ll have the whole beach to ourselves and have mimosas for breakfast and, oh! Turtles! Anyway, we’ll be having far too much sex on the beach for you to bother with your laptop.”

“I told you, Danny, sand gets everywhere.”

“But it’s romantic.”

“See? Alex and Q and I will be having romantic beach sex while you wank inside, alone, not getting dirty.”

“I’ll show you getting dirty…”

“Boys, play nice.”

“Besides, Q, I’m not sure the resort even has internet.”

“What?!”

Title: Not another lie

Author: @themuller13

Rating: general audiences

Warnings: None

Summary: Danny is desperate.

“Danny! Not. The. Laptop!”

“Why, Q? Why shouldn’t I smash it? Together with all the rest of your bloody equipment?!”

“Because.”

“Because—what? Tell me where Alex is! Show me that he is safe!”

“Danny, you have to believe me—“

“Believe you? All of you, every single one of you have told nothing but lies. All the damned time. Why should I believe you now?”

“Alex is safe. My brother is with Bond. They need to debrief him. Take him to medical.”

“Does he know I’m here? With you?”

“Yes, Danny, Alex knows. James told him, I told him. We would never have found him without your help. He knows.”

“I want to see him!”

“Danny, Alex is safe. But he was injured. James will call.”

“Q. Please, I can’t wait any longer. I need to tell him.”

“What, Danny?”

“I need to tell him. That none of it mattered. The lies, the mistakes. That I love him, just the same. That I, I love him. Still. Now. Knowing it all. I wish he can hear me say it.”

“I’ll show you. Yes?”

“Please, Q. Tell me, it’s not a lie. Please.”

“Look. It’s not. Here. The video feed from medical."

#00qad ldws #00qad #00q #london spy #Danny x Alex

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killingdoll · 8 years ago

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Warnings: spoilers galore, careless language, maybe inappropriate jokes

I watched the season premiere on Saturday and since then had been debating with myself whether to write a review for this spectacular opening of a new season. You see, last season I wrote a review for each episode and though it certainly had its fun, it was a bit tiring as well. Scratch it, much tiring. And being the lazy ass I am, I don’t really want to relive that ‘pain’. Still, my affection for this show is running strong and the newest episode definitely deserves some attention, so here is my thoughts (or rant):

Ooh, New Orleans. How I miss thy sights. How long has it been? 10 months?

Never realized I actually miss Vincent’s voice. Love the way the episode begins with his voice over on Nola scenes. My friend who watched with me thought his cadence was “poetic”, to use her word.

So, they indeed have an anniversary for the fall of the Mikaelsons. Nola residents sure have a weird way to ‘pay respect’ to the founders of their city.

Even better, a special event is held annually so that ‘tourists’ can witness the suffering of Klaus Mikaelson. What kind of tourists? Those with fangs, of course (and fancy cars that usually have a fresh, bleeding human corpse as accessory).

This vampire looks familiar somehow. Oh, I remember her. Sofya. The one-episode guest star in the previous season. I did remark that she kinda looked like Bex; maybe someone heard that and decided to change her look. Now she’s a brunette. Her profession remains unchanged however.

And now she’s working for Marcel and maybe hooking up with him. Beware, Marcellus, for Bex is coming back to town and she can be intensely jelly.

On the other hand I don’t think we’re in need of a love-triangle subplot.

But if they’re going that way then I guess it just have to roll with it.

Oh Klaus. And his Fifty Shades in Chains. Who knows? It may be the title of the next instalment of the Fifty Shades of… Whatever.

He even has a collar! Damn Marcel is kinky. Just not sexy-kinky.

And that’s about 5 minutes into the season premiere perhaps?

Hayley sure has a night cozy house in the middle of nowhere. I wonder how she got it, by compulsion or the Mikaelsons’ money.

Guess not all the money has gone to Caroline Salvatore’s school. Ha-ha. (I’m being sarcastic btw.)

Yeah, the romantic-but-morbid-but-still-romantic scene in the trailer.

Look, look. Hope’s big girl now and she’s wearing that magic-restraining bracelet in the second season. Nice come back.

That means she hasn’t used magic once in 5 years? Hope she’ll get the hang of it quickly when the bracelet’s taken off because Auntie Freya’s gonna teach her a lot of badass shit.

Mary! Dear old same Mary who’s still salty with the Mikaelsons after all these years. Please don’t spread your saltiness to the little girl; they’re her family who all love her.

… which is what Hayley is quick to reinforce. Hayley f*cking Mikaelson.

Determined Hayley is the best Hayley. Glad last season she finally picked a side.

Josh… Not sure how I feel about thee… I mean thee are nice and all but…

Hah, my guess is right!!! Marcel has removed Papa Tunde’s blade from Klaus.

So, Klaus is like Marcel’s secret counselor or something?

Alistair Dupence(?). Did I get his last name right? Oh well, whatever. Just another item in Klaus’s never-ending list of enemies.

… who barges in the city and starts making demands. Hello, upgraded Original there. What makes you think he won’t play dirty and bite you somewhere nobody sees (double entendre very much intended).

His accent is more memorable than his person actually.

Srsly, after 5 years and he hasn’t found Hayley and Hope and the slumbering Mikaelsons? C’mon she hasn’t even left the country! Aren’t your resources a failure? I guess Hayley’s really good at covering her track and laying low but still…

And he throws the gauntlet! Wonderful. Mano a mano. Man to man… except put Klaus in chains and starve him beforehand pretty please?

That Hayley and Hope’s hug though.

Hayley’s in a black dress. OK, I’m so used to seeing her in shirts, jeans, leather jacket and boots that this new look is… startling. Looks very good on her though. Don’t get me wrong, but she can wear that dress at both a funeral and a nightclub.

I have a feeling she dresses to attract her prey’s attention…

… who is Keelin, a wolf. Is this the bisexual wolf I’ve heard rumors about?

Hayley doesn’t waste a second, doesn’t she? After five years she’s become very vigilant.

Let’s see… dimly lit, pretty dirty place: check, bondage: check, crazy contraption that’s likely to cause pain: check and check. I wonder why this place reminds me so much of Saw.

But Hayley doesn’t want to play; she’s in for business…

… which is gathering Keelin’s venom and waking sleeping beauty Freya up.

That Hayley and Freya’s hug.

I guess Freya’s so accustomed to this sleeping-for-years-and-then-up-and-walking shit she doesn’t waste a moment for her stiff, lethargic muscles to flex and goes straight to work. That’s big sis for ya!

Hayley VS Alistair’s lackeys. Hayley: 1, Alistair’s lackeys: 00000000 (can I add the zeros to infinity??)

Her f*cking wolf form though. ♫♫♫♫ Who let the wolf out? ♫♫♫♫

But the most gruesome awesome kill goes to…… Freya Mikaelson. Srsly brain melting? That’s a novelty.

She probably has so much energy pent up in her. Poor that vamp dude. Next time buy a life insurance. That way your wife and kids will get compensation.

Once again this show proves women are a force to be reckoned with.

Klaus VS Alistair (plus crowd). Klaus: 0, Alistair: 1. Some ranting on Alistair’s part later… Klaus: 1, Allistair: 000000…

See the similarities?

I seriously think Klaus should expand his diet to vampire blood as well. I mean Alistair’s full of healthy blood; why doesn’t Klaus just sucks him dry? He’s been pretty starving, hasn’t he?

“Meet…… your…… maker.”

Too bad Marcel has to choose this very moment to be a dickwad. Why, Marcel, why?

Marcel’s boast kinda gets on my nerves.

“You want more?”

Hayley’s making badass taunt while standing in her gloriously nude form. I’m fine. I’m so fine. Are all wolves natural naturalists?!

Elijah’s really the expert in creepy killing. Is this a throwback to the pilot where he killed all those vamps who were ganging up on Sophie?

Haylijah reunion.

The kiss! I’m not a Haylijah shipper but still…

Vincent mentions Cami and Klaus immediately shuts up his threats. “You stayed my hand and quelled my rage” indeed.

Even better, Cami will make an appearance in the next episode!

“When it comes to my family’s safety, I don’t negotiate.” Mikael’s beloved daughter speaking.

“After all this time…” “Me too.” They really don’t need many words, don’t they?

“A child after my own heart.” The moment they will get to meet Hope will be s-p-e-c-t-a-c-u-l-a-r!!!

And now they’re going back for Klaus!

Kinda agree with Klaus about Marcel’s not escaping his shadow and being weak. Kinda feel bad Klaus gets daggered for that. “Why’re you so hell-bent on proving him right, Marcel?” to parody Vincent’s words.

Overally, a good episode and a strong start for the season. Looking forward to the next episode.

[Rant] Gather Up the Killers – The Originals 4×01 Warnings: spoilers galore, careless language, maybe inappropriate jokes I watched the season premiere on Saturday and since then had been debating with myself whether to write a review for this spectacular opening of a new season.

#elijah mikaelson #freya mikaelson #hayley marshall #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #marcel gerard #original groupies #the mikaelsons #the originals

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leonbastralle · 8 years ago

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Yet Another Ginormous Reply Post

I’m gonna have to start nicknaming them Reapers, cause that’s exactly how ginormous they are these days xD (yes I’ve been playing too much ME)

elvensimming replied to your photoset “Ellie got a job at the theater, so she thought it was time to reward...”

And she is wearing my favorite Sims 3 earrings. <3

Ellie is a cat lady for life ♥

elvensimming replied to your photoset “Ellie got a job at the theater, so she thought it was time to reward...”

She is so cute!

thank you! I mean she’s basically a Button clone, so I can take credit for that ;)

elvensimming replied to your photoset

It is very weird to fish in a pool, since you would not think that there would be fish in it.

There aren’t, but, you know...kids and their imagination xD I think it’s an amazing little detail that it’s a kids only activity!

pxelface replied to your photoset “A: So you said you…went to the future, right? Not going to lie, this...”

Look at Aero being all sciency

Yesss he just seemed the type to me! Even though Button’s a scientist as well and the game put both him and Sadie in the music career...

pxelface replied to your photoset “C: So you’re saying Button should go back there and try to figure out...”

MY CHILDREN

YOUR CHILDREN I love how this save is like the creative elite xD

pxelface replied to your photoset “Can we just talk about how pretty Sadie is though??”

SHE IS SO PRETTY

YES SHE IS I LOVE HER TOO MUCH

zauglom replied to your photoset “C: Oh my gosh look at her butt”

You know who's definitely looking at her butt ��

twinsimskeletons replied to your photoset “C: Oh my gosh look at her butt”

ok nicki

indeed

amixofpixels replied to your photoset

Fishing in the pool, oh yeah!

Pool fishing party! xD

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “C: Oh my gosh look at her butt”

Luckily for us, I don't know much of this song, so sadly I'm only singing the bit you put.

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “C: Oh my gosh look at her butt”

Will you please stop encouraging me to sing?

same, tbh xD how would I know the lyrics I’ve heard it like twice

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “We got a new nanite! It doesn’t have a name…yet. Hopefully soon!”

Mirror Caleb is the third best Caleb. First is normal, and second is shirtless.

xD but you can barely see anything of him!

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “Fable THIS LOOKS DANGEROUS GO AWAY”

They'll be fine. No kid has ever been harmed by a robot. None at all.

that sounds slightly sarcastic?

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “Caleb, don’t be rude, don’t laugh at…who was that again?”

Listen to Annie, my dear, she can hurt you.

nah, no more hurting for these two, they’ve passed their drama test ♥ I mean there’ll be future bits, but...nothing bad

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “Can we just talk about how pretty Sadie is though??”

Not my favourite Gatton face, but it's okay. XD Don't kill me Makayla.

pxelface replied to your photoset “Can we just talk about how pretty Sadie is though??”

I suppose I'll forgive you Chelsea... this time

Good thing you guys can settle that on your own xD I don’t like having to yell at people

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “C: You okay, love? B: N-no…I can’t do this alone, Caleb. C: Shhh....”

Also, Caleb is the best husband, we all know this, yes?

Hmmm not sure about that, but surely one of the best! I have a few of the most supportive and lovely and handsome guys in my game! Would have to make lists and have award ceremonies and stuff.

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “C: You okay, love? B: N-no…I can’t do this alone, Caleb. C: Shhh....”

I shall patiently wait for the story to continue.

Good, cause it might take a little while! I hope I can play some Flares and Miracles while on my break...I have to, I miss my son ;_;

twinsimskeletons replied to your photoset “A: So you said you…went to the future, right? Not going to lie, this...”

that's interesting! loreeee

twinsimskeletons replied to your photoset “A: So you said you…went to the future, right? Not going to lie, this...”

huh

thanks! I have barely developed it xD but we will know more once they get to the future and investigate!

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “C: So you’re saying Button should go back there and try to figure out...”

THE HYPE IS BEGINNING!!!!

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “A: So you said you…went to the future, right? Not going to lie, this...”

And Future talk! Can I get hype?

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “A: So you said you…went to the future, right? Not going to lie, this...”

Everybody doesn't age! This is going to be fun in the long run. XD

ALL THE HYPING!! (I’m mostly hyped for the futuristic makeovers tbh)

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “Emergency council meeting in the Robins’ family room.”

This is the last one, I really want to see Caleb and Sadie's hairs right close up. Dark and Blue in the house! XD

they get along quite well, so I’m sure we’ll see them together again soon and then I’ll have a side by side comparison! It’s just a great combo I guess.

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “Emergency council meeting in the Robins’ family room.”

Also, I feel so bad for Celeste, she's all alone with all the couples. Don't'worry, beau, I'll be a fifth wheel right there with you! <3

noooo don’t feel bad for her! She’s happily single, and she has her two wonderful misfit dogs! I just wanted some different households in there, since they’re gonna be permanent xD

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “Emergency council meeting in the Robins’ family room.”

Emergency meeting? This can't be good.

It just sounded nice, okay xD nobody’s hurt

amixofpixels replied to your photoset “Ellie got a job at the theater, so she thought it was time to reward...”

You enjoy that ice cream, little one. You deserve it.

doesn’t she, I’m so proud of her ♥

twinsimskeletons replied to your photoset “E: IIIIIIIII LOVE ROCK’N’ROLL!”

me2

at first I thought you meant the game xD

smillingsection replied to your photo “Hey Cullen, fancy meeting you in my inbox”

cullen baby!!! he's so cute and awkward and i love him so much xD

tell me about it ♥ this was actually sent by my friend @fadepixels so if you ever need a fellow Cullenite to talk to ;)

amixofpixels replied to your post “Slat Master Replies”

Giggling away to myself, as per usual! <3

amixofpixels replied to your post “Slat Master Replies”

I'm coming to come and hug you just for the title. And it's fine. I can be a problem with replies. XD

awh you little cutie you ;_; this makes me feel like me doing replies is a good meaningful thing...

#elvensimming #pxelface #zauglom #twinsimskeletons #amixofpixels #smillingsection #replies #non-sims #saviorhide

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ankurmutreja · 7 years ago

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Rahul Gandhi and Being Pappu

To be frank, I found Rahul Gandhi an amenable person till not very long ago, but now when he has decided to project himself for prime minister ship, the fact he is a loser has become prominent. He is an incorrigible loser deserving sympathy but no faith. Of course, a loser can learn and win but only if he does. Rahul Gandhi has not shown any inclination to learn. The 2014 elections were indeed nightmare for the Congress. Rahul Gandhi says he has learned from 2014, but what? What has he done till date to stop Modi juggernaut? Delhi was won by the AAP, and Bihar was won by Lalu-Nitish combine, which combination has now been broken; the fact Nitish is still the CM means it is a failure of the Congress. Assam was Rahul Gandhi's best opportunity to show his talent, but he failed badly. I don't know whether the Congress ever does any self-analysis, but the journalists have done plenty of analysis, and the verdict is unanimous that Rahul Gandhi's arrogance did it in Assam. The Congress never had any chance in UP. Demonetisation gave them a great opportunity, which they failed to tap completely. In fact, Prashant Kishore had already taken them on a tangent with fancy ideas of the Congress' Brahmin resurgence. The Congress presence in UP was worse than that in Bihar. Neither do they have organisational capabilities of the Sangh nor do they have the stamina of people like Amit Shah. So, why waste time on non-achievable targets? That too when you have precedent of Bihar alliance in front of you. UP is an unpardonable failure of Rahul Gandhi. The Congress has won in Punjab, but I wonder how much of it can be contributed to Rahul Gandhi. He rather wanted to project Bajwa in Punjab. It was only through cool and seasoned politician, i.e. Amarinder Singh, the Congress tasted victory in Punjab. Had Congress failed in Punjab, the AAP would have taken them over by now and it would have been the likes of Kejriwal and Kumar Vishwas who would have been enticing Gujaratis. Gujarat again is like UP: almost non-achievable but GST has thrown up an opportunity. But I wonder if Rahul Gandhi would be able to tap this opportunity. The soft-Hindutva approach he has adopted may or may not work, but this approach has raised strong doubts about the Congress per se. Rajiv Gandhi was the biggest proponent of the soft-Hindutva approach, which makes him the worst prime minister from the Congress stable. But for him, RSS would have been dead by now. He gave them a new lease of life. The duo of Indira Gandhi and Sanjay Gandhi obviously started all this soft-Hindutva non-sense. Contrary to popular belief, I believe Indira Gandhi was a very weak woman, who fell back on Gods and tantriks. Mark Tully has rightly qualified her as a procrastinator, who took desperate steps when things went out of hand and accidentally received an aura of a strong woman. I think Indira Gandhi and Rajiv Gandhi are dispensable, but Rahul Gandhi is latching onto Indira Gandhi, an autocrat, when he has Nehru, a liberal socialist, to emulate. Shiv Sena yesterday claimed Rahul Gandhi is a Pappu no more. Well, I like the name Pappu because whenever I have come across a Pappu, I have felt like becoming one. Unfortunately, neither I nor Rahul Gandhi is capable of Being Pappu (nice title for Homi Adjania's next). So, all those who were calling him Pappu were actually disparaging those who practice innocence sans inhibition -- ok, I might have called him a Pappu once or twice on Twitter, but they are just tweets. I think Shiv Sena meant to say Rahul Gandhi has graduated in politics in the last three years. I don't think so. I don't see any change except for better Twitter presence. If Twitter is the benchmark, the likes of Nidhi Razdan, Sonu Nigam, Virendar Sehwag can become better PMs -- I recall Sonu Nigam has left Twitter; we have lost a to-be PM. Ok, he has also publicly adorned an Aidiko black belt. Aidiko believes in protecting the attacker as well. Truly Gandhian! I would suggest Rahul Gandhi to become a real Pappu than adorning a 56" Gandhian black belt (pun intended) because it would be a nice change to have a Pappu as prime minister, but of course only if he can. Read the full article

#Rahul Gandhi #Indian Politics

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krystynasierbien · 8 years ago

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A Few Notes on the WikiLeaks.

OK, you guys need to keep the Progressive/Commie/Socialist agendas and rhetoric to yourselves or you’re going to go absolutely nowhere very, very fast. Now, now, don’t get your dander up: if I can pass by gross mischaracterisations of the existing world order as “capitalism” or “white supremacy”, you can stay calm and listen a minute…” (Jules Ay, 2007)

To be, or indeed even just to feel righteous, and then act, through the prism of a megalomaniacal temperament you are all too aware of and yet continue to deny publicly — as the ultimate act of resistance perhaps — might well be Julian Assange’s modus operandi as the founding editor of WikiLeaks. The notorious Aussie contrarian is a megalomaniac, he is a sexual miscreant, a misogynist, a sociopath, a slob, a 21st century L.Ron Hubbard, a credulous fucking weirdo. But then he’s also brave and brilliant too, somehow. A paranoid genius who exudes insatiable warmth, wit and charm whenever either circumstance or fancy allows.

In his ‘own words’ in 2011 in an interview with Google’s then CEO Eric Schmitt, Tudor history buff Jared Cohen of Google Ideas [the de-facto foreign policy tech-wing of the S.V. behemoth with notably close ties to the US State Department] and Council on Foreign Relations Vice President Lisa Shields; Assange, upon being asked, proceeds to describe his own temperament as the existential embodiment of humankind’s wider inclination towards the pursuit of justice. That such a pursuit is as fundamental as, let’s say, Plato’s influence on philosophical and political thought — in fact Plato’s work is surely a reflection of this base temperament — and should therefore definitely not be probed for its underlying motivations. In other words: It’s called being human, stupid. Perhaps you should try it sometime? When alive, Plato declared his theory of the forms to be the only antidote to the ‘cave’ of his own creation; the escape from which could be realised only through the ‘right kind’ of education, and with the Plato seal of approval. Assange has in interviews also described the philosopher as “a bit of a fascist.”

In the 2014 documentary Inside The Dark Web Assange appeals first to mathematics, then to market economy fundamentals, “by expressing the desire for privacy, the market will fill the demand” to argue in favour of the wide scale implementation of anonymity software like Tor because mathematically, logistically speaking, Assange says, encryption is ‘easier’ than decryption & therefore on that basis “the universe fundamentally favours privacy.” Today, state and corporate surveillance infrastructures have become expert monetisers of personal information, so the trick is to make online surveillance as ‘difficult’ and as expensive as possible.

The internet and with that the ‘free flow’ of information it facilitates is to Assange tantamount to “the new platonic realm…our realm;” that its the ‘peak’ collective achievement of contemporary ‘Western’ civilisation, and that in order to protect this realm ‘we’ must work towards building another. To protect the web from people, from systems and from algorithms designated to police, to cocoon and to balkanise the web as we in turn do the same to one other and ourselves, ‘we’ must together embrace and continue to improve upon the kind of encryption technology that’s easy enough to utilise effectively so that not only those with advanced computer science degrees are able to in confidence enjoy a genuinely private conversation from the comfort of their own IRL homes. This is encryption which according to its proponents at least might one day lead to the abolition, or from some perspectives, the inversion of the Panopticon (itself a utopian project, remember) from its current perch above people and society altogether. Encryption as the “ultimate form of non-violent resistance.”

What Assange and his incorporeal troupe have managed to achieve in just a few short years, and from seemingly nothing except access to a few dusty old computers, the (at times arms-length) tacit acknowledgement or outright support of some of the world’s leading academics, a skill-set only those on the ‘autism spectrum’ could ever realistically amass; the indirect financial and infrastructural backing of 1/5 of the world’s largest crisp bread producer dynasty (who’s a Sweden for the Swedes kind of guy unfortunately) and a solid (though inflexible?) and mutual (though coerced?) vision as the organisation nears its 10th anniversary, is undeniably spectacular, and yet eerily inconsequential too, somehow; and in thereabouts equal measure. Isn’t it observably true that public officials routinely conduct themselves with impunity (Petraeus? Hillary?) Whereas most of WikiLeaks’ operational goals seem to hinge upon the cogent application of judicial process off the back of whatever wrongdoing their leaks might bring to light. Which means that The WikiLeaks can lead the horse to water but really no further.

Academia and its torchbearers have seemed to treat WikiLeaks’ with a similar ‘cautionary’ disregard to the organisation’s presumably coincidental namesake, Wikipedia — which up until 2011 owned a number of WikiLeaks mirror URLs, for some reason, according to Wired magazine — in that direct references to WikiLeaks library are notably sparse in a number of online academic resources. In some journals, academics have been discouraged if not prohibited outright from citing WikiLeaks documents in their footnotes directly. Instead, only references via Guardian articles seem to have been permitted; selectivising the focus of recent history; materially stunting WikiLeaks’ ‘real world’ impact; confining the organisation’s reach to the lazy, overworked and sadistic media with which Assange nonetheless indulges an intense and at least sporadically performative hate-hate working relationship.

As per the myriad references to him in the vast online theatre of clicks, Assange has either been described or has self-described as tending to err on the side of ‘radical transparency.’ Less transparency, Assange says, ensures more corruption, and so then as cyclical incentive, also more unaccountability. The more transparency built into an institution or group of institutions as their human agents interact with and lie to one another, the less corruption and so the more effectively, fairly and virtuously a manner the whole can be plausibly encouraged to function in thereafter according to its own in-built and oppositional mechanisms.

WikiLeaks’ self-styled incarnate has been simultaneously dissed, dissected, and deified by Hollywood, by the news media, by his supporters and by his critics alike. Which is endearing in a way. Alex Gibney’s WikiLeaks documentary title, for example, combines the token ‘We Steal Secrets’ — a statement made in the film not by Assange nor by a WikiLeaks staffer but instead by former CIA director Michael Hayden in reference to CIA and NSA activities in a nutshell — with “The Story of WikiLeaks.” The title arrangement here obviously has a misrepresentative literal interpretation. The absence of satisfactory and publicly available evidence maintains that WikiLeaks does not steal secrets however Gibney’s arrangement could quite easily be, in fact arguably it is meant to be interpreted to the contrary. Wow. Assange would for many reasons, few of them noble, maybe, frame himself and WikiLeaks as one and the same as of 2010, and the effect this would have on the organisation looks to have been pivotal. But it also took place four years after the organisation’s much less discussed and even less so critiqued-in-hindsight leaks were first published back in 2005/6. WikiLeaks was faceless then & was referred to unproblematically as such by the media.

Over several months in 2011, Assange’s former ghost writer Andrew O’Hagan grew to revile the WikiLeaks editor, because of what O’Hagan perceived to be Assange’s dangerous preoccupation with perception management over substance, virtue. Not to mention the socially unbearable ways in which he would treat even his closest of allies, who’d become enemies for so much as a raised eyebrow on the particularly bad days. The novelist’s impression of the summer that he shared with an electronically tagged Julian Assange on a farm in rural Norfolk in 2011 would first appear in print in the LRB some three years after the fact. An act of friendship, alongside a legal reality, in its own small way, surely. The article was published neatly after the bulk of the WikiLeaks Party fiasco press had dissipated. When Assange was ready to withstand yet another at least partially deserved media beating. This time, in the form of a 10,000 plus word literary epic within the lines of which O’Hagan describes Assange’s chauvanistic personality in excruciating but humanising detail; sharing anecdotes about the WikiLeaks founder’s weird and triggering sexism, his tendency toward shallow dispositions, and the seeping martyrdom complex he was barely able to contain at the best of times.

O’Hagan’s lack of technical knowledge coupled with Assange’s rhetorical knack perhaps meant the novelist’s understanding of the WikiLeaks founder’s coding talents was really more like that of a child’s after having been regaled with tales about the wonders of the universe by a particularly decent storyteller for the very first time… perhaps not though.

When the influence that Assange observably harnesses amongst the small clique of decision makers he leads at WikiLeaks is objectively acknowledged however there is really very little doubt that his remorselessly debated temperament, whatever it might be, has contributed heavily to WikiLeaks’ successes (real and perceived) as well as its failures (ditto.) “It is for that reason there is such a focus on Assange’s character when discussing WikiLeaks” Nick Davies explains via email.

Most people would become aware of WikiLeaks, but specifically Assange, in 2010 off the back of the many hundreds of thousands of US diplomatic cables and battlefield reports unearthing countless and horrifying atrocities committed by the US and UK armed forces in Iraq and Afghanistan, channelled to WikiLeaks’ servers by former US intelligence analyst Chelsea Manning, who after over two years in solitary confinement awaiting trial was in 2012 condemned to 35 years in prison for her bravery. Assange went from spokesperson, to co–founder, to founder, to EIC of WikiLeaks in rapid succession as demand for a representative heightened. When it had become paramount that one version of events was going to have to, for historical narrative’s sake, stick. Even if only for the time being. WikiLeaks’ ill-fated but prolific collaboration with Der Spiegel, the New York Times and UK Guardian on the Iraq and Afghanistan war logs would come to mark the culmination of this process: “All three media organisation{s} interviewed him in order to be able to write a profile of him, explain various things about the material, challenge him on various points. So he was there for that function” Nick Davies told the Columbia Journalism Review in July 2010.

Assange was reluctant about the arrangement to begin with because to him and to others Assange’s role at WikiLeaks was, is and now always will be sacrificial because as figurehead he serves as a buffer between the organisation and the often vitriolic criticism charged against it: “It is my role to be the lightning rod .. to attract the attacks against the organisation for our work, and that is a difficult role. On the other hand, I also get undue credit. That’s my function in this organisation” Assange explained in an interview with CNN in 2010.

While it’s clear that the sex crime allegations levelled against Assange in Sweden in 2010 had no bearing on WikiLeaks operationally –“our work”– rather than distancing WikiLeaks from his court case, Assange would instead insist its official line be even clearer that his was a battle against political persecution, the silencing of free speech, thus falling under WikiLeaks’ remit, thereby legitimising the organisation’s active involvement in Assange’s to-this-day-ongoing court appeal. Former WikiLeaks volunteer James Ball recalls a conversation he once had with gruff on-again-off-again WikiLeaks spokesperson Kristinn Hrafnsson as news about the rape scandal, orchestrated by Nick Davies in his obtaining of the leaked Swedish police reports, first broke, in an interview with the Daily Beast in 2013: “We agreed on a simple line: Julian was WikiLeaks’ founder and editor, and had its full support — but his court issues were a private matter…that line wasn’t acceptable to Julian… he reversed it. Julian’s fight was WikiLeaks’ fight.”

Here, Ball points to a culture with drawable comparisons to many others existing today of course; one where Assange is able to and so precisely for this reason often does get to circumvent the consensus of even his most senior colleagues. The international man of mystery was nevertheless accused of sexual misconduct in a country where the scourge of sexual violence has a longstanding history of revulsion in both public and political discourse. Also legal practices which reflect this.

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WikiLeaks is a concept too though — once nameless, now also a monetized brand with a range of merchandise, and commercial ownership over the information, the actual leaks it was designed to channel. The monetization process was inevitable in a sense. Perpetual legal costs, the (albeit small) contingent of salaried staff, their expenses, and the obligatory PR arm doesn’t come cheap and limited donations can only ever go so far. But it’s not the principle of monetization per se, instead some of the methods WikiLeaks that has opted to employ (and with whom along the way) that’s raised the bulk of the questions and reservations about WikiLeaks but particularly Assange amongst critics and supporters alike.

Think of WikiLeaks the concept as the technological mastery of a path already partially trodden: hosting leaks on the web, only with infrastructure, and crucially also software, sophisticated enough to preserve the anonymity of the source. New York architects & CIA stock babies Deborah Natsios and John Young of Cryptome were publishing without the guarantee of anonymity leaks online some ten years prior to WikiLeaks’ first in 2006.

Cryptome, a mish-mash of corporate and government documents, of email exchanges and re-posts of articles of interest, also hosts a cache of Wikileaks-related posts that hark back to the project’s shadowy beginnings. Young, Natsios and Assange were virtually acquainted via the Cypherpunks mailing list several years before WikiLeaks was first established; it was apparently John Young as an American citizen who registered the domain name WikiLeaks.org at the behest of Assange in 2005/06. Obvious similarities between the two whistleblower platforms aside, their treatment at the hands of the US security state perhaps underscores a key difference, one that Natsois and Young have both alluded to in the past. Young, who in interviews often whistles a tune to the effect of “by the way, do not under any circumstances trust anything we say, ever,” also maintains that Cryptome was and to this day remains strictly amateur compared to the operation that WikiLeaks was always intended to be.

Cryptome debuted on ‘the World Wide Web’ in 1996: An age of dial up, snail’s pace page-loads, and pay–per–hour. Google’s state-of-the-art algorithms were still a DARPA funded PhD research project at Stanford and its rudimentary predecessor, Yahoo’s Alta Vista directory, tasked employees with mapping and cataloguing the web manually. 1996 was a huge year for the internet. With its full commercialisation, the web was transformed from being a tool used exclusively by governments, military officials and academics, into a global, by which of course I don’t not mean ‘global’ in either sense!!, public domain. In Washington D.C., Bill Clinton signed the landmark Executive Order 13026, transferring encryption from the Munitions List to the Commerce Control List and the Cypherpunks apparently had “significant input (in)to the 1996 National Research Council report on encryption policy, Cryptography’s Role In Securing the Information Society (CRISIS).” Meanwhile, somewhere in Hollywood or Philadelphia or wherever, the first draft of the Matrix script, in which Morpheus mistakenly believes to have found ‘The One’ before — a grand total of five times to be precise — was complete; so too was the formal unification of a community of luxury dachas peppered somewhere along the shoreline of Lake Komsomolskoye on the outskirts of St Petersburg under the monicker ‘Ozero.’ Its tenants: 8 of Russia’s soon-to-be 21st century political and business elite, including future President Vladimir Flobadob Putin.

Rupert Murdoch’s satellite news channel Fox News beamed its first images into American households, under the stewardship of former political strategist and Nixon election campaign adviser Roger Aires, and newly elected Prime Minister of Israel Benjamin Netanyahu with Richard Perle as advisor and Avigdor Lieberman as political ally in 1996 shunted Israeli politics and the Zionist project further still to the right. Perle wrote and published A Clean Break: A New Strategy for Securing the Realm — a report calling for the toppling of Saddam Hussein specifically and for the ‘restructuring’ of the Middle East generally: A blueprint for PNAC, which was formally established the following year. Zbigniew Brzezinski and his team began to research and write The Grand Chessboard: American Primacy and Its Geostrategic Imperatives: A book; nay, a masterpiece, outlining in broadest terms the US’s ever elusive “national interests” and recommending its foreign policy mandate in Eurasia, and beyond, as the world’s hitherto unmatched superpower prepared to steamroll its way into the 21st Century. In Jerusalem, to thunderous applause at the 3rd ICEJ sponsored International Christian Zionist Congress it was announced that “Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah and has promised to return to Jerusalem, to Israel and to the world!”while in some small corner of Moscow, the former KGB operative responsible for Trotsky’s assassination plot, Pavel Sudoplatov, died from the complications of old age at 89.

The world’s favourite political drunkard, Boris Yeltsin, lurched his way into a shambolic second term in office while back in Washington D.C, Billary Clinton’s administration became embroiled in yet another campaign donor scandal. This time, one involving elements within China’s ruling party, and the country’s mega-rich industrialists. At the beginning of the year, in a sports hall in Philadelphia, Garry Kasparov fought and won his first chess tournament against IBM’s Deep Blue (complete with sizable human entourage) 4��2 despite losing the opening game and finally towards the year’s end, Julian Assange, who was 25 years old at the time with sole guardianship of his son Daniel would reach the end of a court case in Australia on thirty-one counts of computer-related offences dating back to the early 90’s. Pleading guilty to twenty-five offences, he received a fine and good behaviour bond. The remaining six charges were dropped.

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What about funding WikiLeaks? Non-profits and registered charities, not to mention religions, are able to draw from a range of funding options provided the money is spent, and demonstrably so, on the organisation’s upkeep and the documentable pursuit of its stated operational goals. Income can be generated from donations and grants but it’s also common practice for NPOs and charities to monetize the knowledge-base and expertise of their staff base by charging fees for speaking engagements, report-writing, analysis, interviews, and so forth. Collaboration between NPOs and businesses with similar ‘aims’ or ‘principles’ is fairly common too. So WikiLeaks is hardly “out there” in that sense. What’s crucial about all these funding arrangements however, especially for an organisation claiming to be about the minimisation of corruption and a constructive (rather than absolute) degree of transparency, an organisation with actual real-world power, much like a laminated paper tiger or indeed Henry Kissinger’s stylist, is whether or not it is able to preserve legitimacy under scrutiny. Which of course requires a workable degree of transparency in order to be ascertained. And is it possible to conduct these important checks and balances to a satisfactory extent when it comes to WikiLeaks? The short and correct answer is no. However the long one provides context, apologia. It also considers WikiLeaks’ unique situation and at times even parodic function. Which simply m-m-must be taken into account.

The whistleblower organisation, it could be said, is layered, much like an onion. The central layer contains Assange and the “80% of all the work” and they know it clique. These are the architects and ideas men, women, and memes. The protective, subsidiary layers, there to counteract and on occasion even stir up any “FUD” surrounding the organisation, it’s editor or their sources, follows. The broadcast and multimedia publishing arm at WikiLeaks, which for the purposes of continuity should be visualised as yet another layer of the metaphorical WikiLeaks onion, a Sunshine Press Productions shaped onion layer that is really neither an arm nor a part of an onion but instead as it reads clearly on the WikiLeaks main website’s ‘about’ page: “WikiLeaks is a project of the Sunshine Press.”

SPP is registered at one of the co-director’s property in Iceland. A country with enviable press freedom laws *and* one of the lowest corporation tax rates in the industrialised world. SPP is multifunctional: It’s a conduit for WikiLeaks and Assange’s defence fund donations. It handles fees from interviews and a variety media appearances. It generates modest revenue from the photography and video it produces. More often than not, this means close-ups of The Leader’s increasingly “world-weary” face at press conferences. In publicly accessible legal documentation drafted in 2010 Sunshine Press Production’s purpose is summarised as the “production, editing and distribution of media content, video content, language and print media, web design and hosting industry, retailers and wholesalers, real estate and business lending and related activities.”

The most recent addition to the ‘comedy of layers’ is the project’s commercial arm, WikiLicense, the latest collaborative effort between Assange and Datacell founder and personal friend Olafur Vignir Sigurvinsson. WikiLicense oversees the production of “quality apparel and merchandise” with a pre-approved and meticulously stylized WikiLeaks and Julian Assange aesthetic. Brand ambassador Sigurvinsson, who wouldn’t look out of place on stage at an East 17 reunion concert, introduced WikiLicense and its 46 page strong style guide, in which the phrases “We Attack Corporations”, “We Steal Secrets” and the word ‘anti-secrecy’ have been blacklisted to the world at the Las Vegas Licensing Expo in 2014. Perhaps understandably, there were rumbles of trepidation against this sour tasting but from some perspectives inevitable process of institutionalisation. Assange would assure colleagues and supporters that only working relationships with brands and services whose ‘values’ firmly aligned with WikiLeaks’ own would be fostered therein: “The main brand values are transparency and freedom of speech. The mission is to transform the world by bringing important information to the public” he explained in an interview in 2015.

When Wikileaks’ ethos of transparency, justice, and truth’s set against the back-drop of the organisation’s incarnate willing the violation of these very principles; be it through organisational opacity, through misinformation, through duplicity it’s the organisation’s credibility and by extension Wikileaks’ power to fulfill its credo that becomes the subject/object of sacrifice. To his critics, many of whom have supported him in the past and presently continue to laud WikiLeaks as a vital mechanism for journalists and politicians alike in the 21st century; Assange, within the confines of the Ecuadorian embassy in London to them strikes the figure of a man fatigued beneath the weight of his faith in the knowledge that firstly, he has adequately gauged the motivations of the people and organisations he’s often been forced by circumstance to align himself with and/or make enemies out of in the online labyrinths of geo-politics & 21st century citizen espionage, and secondly that in being righteous he is somehow able to righteously defy the central tenets of his own convictions whenever he deems this appropriate. At liberty to demand of his colleagues their silence by making them sign unnecessarily stringent non-disclosure agreements that ultimately stifles even constructive speech; creating conditions for the very corruption that he wishes to with the help of reliable and accessible technology eradicate in government & big business, surely: “His problem is “noble cause” corruption: behaviour he’d rightly condemn in others, he excuses in himself, because he believes, at his core, he is the good guy.” as James Ball put it.

This way of thinking is only ever self-serving; ripe for corruption; and actually quite a lot like the cyber espionage methods employed by certain online and very much out-of-order security services today. And these are methods that WikiLeaks has emulated (and perhaps even refined with the information they’ve been granted access to) for its own operations since.

Makes U Think.

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#wikileaks #deep state #1996 #da bigga picture

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