#how many mayors call the citizens of the city

[nionom-art]

A few curiosities on Paris and France:

Paris is actually a martial arts city, as during the Belle Epoque the Parisians decided the best way to deal with the gangs was to get early Savate instructors from Marseille to learn how they fought (the style having already acquired boxing style punching from English Boxing after British sailors won too many street fights, and being born to use knives and swords as it was intended to fight pirate attacks) and blended it with the local Parisian Wrestling (better known as Greco-Roman Wrestling for marketing reasons), fencing adapted to walking sticks (the contribution of the bourgeois and nobles), roof hopping (the distant ancestor of Parkour), and everything that came up in the streets (the gangsters could learn Savate too). And while World War I and the end of the gangs led to the sportivization of Savate, the stick fighting still survives as La Canne, and you can still find places that teach the old style that included all the above plus knee and elbow strikes, especially in Paris.

The story of the ancestor Darkblade is identical to an episode of the Hundred Years War with a few particulars omitted to not mention that the historical guy got brutally lynched or that this is how the English got Paris (the Burgundians were called in as back up and nominal overlords, and after the Parisians got their big prisoner out of jail and lynched him with a thousand ransomable guys they passed the hot potato to their English allies. Thus when King Charles VII talked the Parisians into going back to him it was an English garrison that got massacred). Look Bernard VII of Armagnac for more.

The mayor of Paris isn't elected directly. Rather, the citizens elect the city council, and it's them to elect the mayor.

While most French cities have their own local police in addition to the state-wide National Police and Gendarmerie, Paris didn't from 1871 (when the local detachment of the National Guard was disbanded for joining the Paris Commune. Just like their predecessors in 1789) to 2021, and even then it's far more limited in power. Paris instead has its own detachment of the National Police, depending from the Prefeture... And on which the mayor's office has NO authority. Paris cops also have the nickname of "Les Archers" ("The Archers") in honor of the Royal Watch, the law enforcement agency that operated in Paris the longest (from 1254 to 1750) and, upon becoming the ONLY agency in 1559 (the Burghers and Guild Watches having been abolished for having become useless), was turned in a large force of archers.

Good to know this info- definitely helps with world building and plot

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt: The New Teacher

(So, I've seen a lot of prompts that have Danny go to Gotham and be a teacher but I don't remember seeing any with it in this direction, so on the chance that this is an original idea here we go!)

Jason was given a choice, or multiple choices. Babysit the Replacement on a mission that could last a week, go to Bludhaven and have some 'brother bonding time' with Dick who needed backup on a big case, or take a temp solo-gig in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere called Amity Park.

Well, considering he was still a bit hurt about the fact that B replaced him all those years ago and the pit loved to grab hold of that bit of frustrations towards his younger brother, that didn't seem like a smart idea. Dick wasn't an option either because he knew that would lead to 'talking about feelings' and other shit that he didn't want to do.

So he took the solo-gig.

It was supposed to be easy, at least that's what had been implied by the others he'd spoken to about the case. It seemed like most of the Justice League thought this situation was being 'exaggerated' because most of the time when somebody checked out what was going on there was nothing happening. No big take over, or kidnapping, or 'end of the world' situation, but there had been too many calls to put Bruce's mind at ease. The frequent calls mixed with the fact that the Government apparently had the area under a 'black out' made Bruce even more nervous.

Hell, if it hadn't been for the fact that Bruce was famous and that Scarecrow, Penguin and Riddler had all escaped from Arkham he would have been doing the case himself.

Which is how Jason ended up in a restraunt named 'Nasty Burger' looking at the news papers he had managed to get from a stand down the street while taking notes of things he had already seen. It wasn't just that the Government had cut them off, all of the tech in the city was easily 20 years outdated compared to the rest of the world.

Nokia phones, chunky computers, hell he'd even seen a kid with a PDA of all things. Thankfully, it looked like his tech still worked other than running slower than it should have, but thanks to modifications made by Barbara and Tim things were running better than he expected. But, they did struggle to have access to anything, specifically the news.

Hence the paper.

Ghost Boy: Friend or Fiend. A new vote cast by the city has found that the Ghost Boy - Danny Phantom - has had an astounding rise in support after the events over the Christmas Holiday. The new polls suggest that 43% of Citizens support Danny Phantom, with the majority of his support coming from the students at Casper High who insist that Phantom is a hero who has saved them countless times over the past few months. 49% of people still agree, however, that Phantom appears to be at the center of the majority of the attacks with many still claiming that he is the sole cause of the attacks. However, 8% of the population remain undecided, including many teachers, police and hospital staff. Upon seeing the new results of the pole Mayor Montez had this to say; "While I will admit that Phantom appears to favor the younger generation and frequently seems to come to their aid, we cannot forget what it has done in the past. Taken hostages, injured innocents, and caused millions in property damage. Phantom may not be a 'villain' in the typical sense of the word, but we shouldn't blindly trust him just because of a few good deeds."

So there was a... hero? Half hero - potentially villain - in Amity Park? That might have explained some of the calls they'd gotten from Amity park over the past few months. Still, he was concerned by some parts of the report.

Students at a high school were frequently coming under attack? So much that this potential-villain kept saving them? Just what was the cause? What could cause so many issues?

Jason looked up as he saw that same PDA kid talking with a girl with short black hair in a half-ponytail who was wearing a black crop-top. The girl seemed annoyed while the boy seemed worried about something.

"But it's Vlad, Sam... what if he does something?" He heard the boy whisper, "We should go back him up..."

"He doesn't need our help, besides Jazz ran away from home, remember? She got herself into this mess it's her problem to get out of it. Something that Danny should have learned a long time ago."

Jason frowned, pretending not to hear them as he hesitated then got up and walked over to the two younger teens. "Hey, excuse me."

The girl looked annoyed and suspicious while the boy looked confused.

"Uh, yeah?" Tucker asked.

"Hey, sorry to bug you both. But could you guys tell me about this... 'Danny Phantom' person?" He asked, holding the newspaper out.

The girl looked even more suspicious, "And... who are you?"

"And how haven't you heard of Phantom?" Asked the boy.

"I just moved to town." Jason admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I'm just trying to catch up on all the town drama."

"You moved to Amity Park... willingly? Psh, what do you have, a deathwish?" The girl grumbled.

"Come on, I just moved from Gotham, which is worse?"

The girl blinked as the boy laughed.

"Furries vs Ghosts, who will win~" He said as the girl elbowed him. "Ow! What?!"

"Danny Phantom is a hero." The girl explained, "He showed up in April and has been protecting the town since."

"A hero, huh? Could always use more of those in the world, but the mayor seems to have it out for him."

Tucker sighed, "No kidding, man. Somebody framed Phantom for something really bad and no matter what he does to try to fix it the city just see's that incident as the only thing he's ever done. It was the first big 'public thing' outside of the high school so it was huge but it wasn't his fault."

The girl reached for her phone suddenly, looking at it before she answered. "Hey, Danny. What's up?" She was quiet for a moment, "Yeah, we're at Nasty Burger, wanna join us? Lunch on me?"

A quiet mumble came through the speaker before she smirked.

"I'll order for you then. Double or triple?"

More mumbles.

"Triple it is. See you soon." She said, then hung up. "Come on, Tuck, Danny is on his way for lunch."

"Hell yeah, see you later, dude." The boy said, then jogged off with the girl.

"A teacher? Yeah, it looks like there's some openings but why would you want to have your cover as a teacher?" Oracle asked as Jason sat in his hotel room, looking through the paper again.

"Most of the incidents seem to surround the High School, I want to see what's going on."

Oracle hummed, typing for a moment. "Alright, well as luck will have it, it looks like teachers are sparse at Amity High, at least from what I'm able to get using your connection... which is infuriatingly slow, by the way, are you sure you did it right?"

"I've done it a million times, of course I did it right."

Oracle grumbled, "Stupid Amity black-out. Okay, so you have options. Most of the teachers have fucked off so all of the teachers in Freshmen year switch around to cover lessons or do mixed lessons. For example the English teacher also teaches Math and the normal Math teacher also teaches Science. So it looks like you could have any position you want and the school would just shuffle around the teachers."

"You said English is taken, right?"

"Yep, the teacher is named William Lancer and he- oh... wait, he's on a leave of absence due to injuries he suffered over Christmas Break. Concussion, broken arm, and bruised ribs, he'll be out for a few weeks."

Jason smirked, "Perfect. Sign me up."

". . . Jason, the English and Math teacher... never thought I'd see the day. Alright, I'll type up your application, send it in and casually push it to the front of the line. You'll be official by the time Winter Break ends in a few days. So get studying."

"Sounds like a plan, but I'll be fine, I mean our family is crazy and i deal with criminals on a nightly basis. How hard could this assignment really be?"

He would regret asking that question by the end of his first day as an Amity High School teacher.

[azula-hates-men]

Benign Colonialism in the ATLA Comics

In this post, I will discuss how the ATLA comics, the Promise comics specifically, fail to tackle settler colonialism.

Before I begin my analysis of the Promise, I need to define a few terms:

benign colonialism: the belief that indigenous people gain more advantages than disadvantages from colonialism

indigenous people: inhabitants who lived in an area prior to it being colonized

settler colonialism: a system of power that perpetuates the genocide and repression of indigenous people

terra nullius: a Latin expression meaning "nobody's land"

The comics starts with a recap of how the 100-year ended and the Gaang meeting with the Earth King to discuss getting rid of the FN colonies in the Earth Kingdom. The Gaang decides to create a movement called the Harmony Restoration Movement, with one of its aim being to have every FN settler return to the Fire Nation. Zuko is initially on board with the idea, but he later withdraws his support after he faces an assassination attempt by the daughter of the Yu Dao (one of the FN colonies) mayor, Kori.

Zuko's meeting with the Yu Dao mayor is where I stumble upon my first problem with the comics. Mayor Morishita says that Zuko has an obligation to protect FN settlers because they were loyal to his family for generations, but he doesn't interrogate how his family were able to settle in the Earth Kingdom with the support from the Fire Nation and what that meant for the indigenous EK citizens that were living there. What also frustrates me is that he acts as if Ozai didn't want burn the entire EK to the ground a year ago. My problems with Morishita also extend to Kori as well because even though she's half-EK and an Earthbender, she is also unable to interrogate how the colony she lives in was able to created. Like father, like daughter I guess.

And it get worse from here. Zuko's explanation of the history of Yu Dao is an example of terra nullius. Throughout history, the phrase has been used to justify the dispossession of Indigenous people because they were considered "too primitive" by colonists to be rightful owners of the land. While Zuko doesn't explicitly say that EK citizens are primitive, the way he talks about Yu Dao makes it seem like before the FN settlers came, the EK citizens weren't using the land properly.

Zuko's argument is a textbook example of benign colonialism. He claims that the indigenous population has gained more advantages from colonized since Yu Dao is now one of the richest cities of the world and any disadvantages they received from FN rule can be addressed later. Arguments like these aren't new. When France colonized Senegal, where my mom is from, a major goal was mission civilisatrice (civilizing mission). The French believed that non-Europeans were uncivilized and were in desperate need of European re-education. What's the most disappointing about Zuko's argument is that he experiences character regression. He already rejected the concept of civilizing mission back in the TV show, so it makes no sense that he would espouse those ideas after his redemption.

Having the FN and EK essentially share the colonies is not a good solution because it treats the indigenous people's and settlers' claim to the land as equally legitimate when the FN settlers' claim is based on the fact that their country colonized the territories and displaced the indigenous people who were living there. In real-life, settlers and indigenous people sharing the land has always led to more problems.

A good example of settlers and indigenous people sharing the land leading to more problems:

One major problem I have with the comics is that there is a heavy implication that interracial relationships solve everything wrong with settler colonialism. While it is true that in many settler colonies (e.g. United States, Canada, Israel), interracial marriage was/is illegal, in many others, interracial marriage was tolerated but that didn't stop the oppression of indigenous people in the slightest and miscegenation was even used as a tool to further genocide the indigenous people.

An example of miscegenation being used as a tool for genocide is the Stolen Generations and wider genocide of Aboriginal Australians. One of the main perpetrator of the genocide of Aboriginal Australians, A.O. Neville, believed that through mixed marriages, the characteristics of Aboriginals would be "bred out". Even in settler colonies where miscegenation wasn't a tool of genocide, indigenous people still faced discrimination. In New Zealand, marriages between the Maori and English settlers were very common and accepted, but Maori people still ended up being victims of forced assimilation in the late 19th century - mid 20th century.

How would I fix the Promise? I would first establish what the average lives of FN settlers, mixed FN-EK citizens, and indigenous EK citizens are like. During the 100 years of the existence of the FN colonies, are racial hierarchy was established: FN settlers at the top, mixed FN-EK citizens in the middle, and indigenous EK citizens at the bottom. The indigenous EK citizens didn't just passively accept their subjugation and resisted FN rule in various ways, both non-violently and violently. After the end of the 100-year war and the creation of the Harmony Restoration movement, there is an organization in the FN colonies by indigenous EK citizens to reunite with the Earth Kingdom. Besides reuniting with the the Earth Kingdom, indigenous EK citizens also want the removal of all FN settlers from the Earth Kingdom. This gets a lot of pushback from mixed FN-EK citizens because they have FN family members and they don't want to be separated from them. Eventually, the indigenous EK citizens realize that removing every FN settler is unrealistic and instead suggest that after reuniting with the Earth Kingdom, they abolish the racial hierarchy and give everyone who lived in the colonies equal rights and representation; FN settlers are given the choice to stay and earn Earth Kingdom citizenship, but if they refuse, they can just return to the Fire Nation.

To summarize, The Promise fails at tackling settler colonialism because it legitimizes common pro-colonialism arguments and is more focused on accommodating settlers than asking how the oppression of indigenous people can be solved realistically. Reading the comics, I am reminded that Bryke are white men with a neoliberal worldview who probably can't reckon with the fact that they live in a settler colony that continues to oppress indigenous people, hence the portrayal of settler colonialism in The Promise. The comics could've been a good analysis of how decolonization could happen in a settler colony but it's clear that Bryke doesn't have a good enough understanding of settler colonialism and why it's bad.

[ljh-writing-blog]

Batmom #1

     The first time you encountered the Batman, who you would later know as Bruce Wayne and your husband, is a day you would never forget.  Gotham’s Dark Knight had rescued you from a life of villainy and crime, your personal hero. It was the start of something beautiful you always said, although your relationship was anything but smooth in the beginning.

Past 

    You were a test subject of Jonathon Crane, he wanted to use fear toxin and psychological torture to awaken meta-genes in ordinary humans and you happened to be his most promising subject at the time. You remember volunteering for the program, they had framed it as test-trials for a new drug meant to strengthen immune systems and increase quality of life in exchange for a hefty payment dependent on how long you stayed in the program. After two years living in shitty motels and alleys you jumped on the offer. Anything was better than petty theft, eating from garbage cans, and sleeping in corrupt homeless shelters.

     Living in Gotham wasn’t kind, after your apartment and all your belongings had been destroyed when the Joker decided to go on a bombing spree you had no choice but to turn to the streets at 20 years old. Gotham’s Mayor and city officials had promised their citizens they would be rehomed and cared for, in reality the displaced apartment renters received a check for a hundred dollars worth of groceries and a two day stay at any hotel in the city. You gave your hotel and grocery voucher to your neighbor with two small children and an elderly mother to care for, she needed it more than you by far. Recuperating after that was nearly impossible. Anyone who said homeless people should just get a job was a damn fool, it wasn’t nearly as easy as it seemed when nice clothing and access to a shower was in scarce supply. The city had failed it’s people and it wouldn’t be the first time it failed Y/N. 

     In the beginning there was sixteen of you, an even split between the men and women. Some of them you recognized, like the two girls who worked the corner of your “street” night and day. There was a third usually with them but she had been murdered two weeks ago. The cops suspected an overdose but the streets knew, they talked and whispered in the night. She had been killed by a client, dumped in the alley that Y/N usually stayed in. That night had been awful, she had been the one to inform them of their friend’s death. She assumed her death had been a wake up call for the women, it had been for herself. She needed to get off the streets before she was just a girl in an alley, taken advantage of and left for dead. There was a few homeless men you recognize from nights spent around dumpster fires and sharing the days spoils. The rest were strangers and she found herself wondering what circumstances had brought them all together. 

     All the volunteers met at Gotham City Mall where you were given new clothes and bussed to a second location, halfway through your bus ride you were all instructed to put a blindfold on. A black cut of cloth had been given to each person, many of you were confused. Why couldn’t you see where you were going? You spoke up as several exchanged looks of fear, “Why can’t we see where we’re going? What’s going on?” You voiced the concerns easily felt throughout the bus, weary of the answer you would receive. What had you gotten yourself into? “The facility we’re going to is a top secret government owned building. This is standard precaution for any non personnel visiting the building.” A man towards the front answered, easing many fears. Not yours though, something felt wrong, you felt this man was lying. 

     Still, you led by example and put your blindfold on. When you had arrived and been shuffled into the building, your blindfolds being taken off, you were met with a stark white room. A scientist began speaking to you, explaining the trials you’d be going through and how you were to be separated. There would be one man and woman to a room, though when you were shown your “rooms” they looked much like a prison cell. They explained they wanted to study their, each man and woman’s, reactions to the opposite sex as they did their research. You started to  become suspicious as this was explained to you. Why would they need to study your reaction to other patients? You were supposed to be in trials for drugs related to strengthening the immune system, that should have nothing to do with other patients. In your head it made more sense for them to isolate all of you, what was going on? What was she about to be subjected to do? And worse, this had all been her doing. 

In the end, you were the only test subject to have survived the “trials” and torture. The trials, you had never been able to refer to your time in the facility as anything but torture and abuse. The scientists always else referred to them as trials, as if giving them any other name would make what they were doing even more sadistic and cruel. Subjecting you to different drugs like LSD, cocaine, Haloperidol, methamphetamines, and truth serum to expose your fears and use them against you. Sleep deprivation was one of their favorite forms of torture, it not only produced natural hallucinations but with the added fear toxin your hallucinations increased tenfold. After developing a dependency to certain drugs they forced you to consume they began to use withdrawal as a form of torture. 

     Your stay in the facility lasted three years, one year after your torture began your metagene that had previously lay dormant was activated. The scientists hypothesized that because of your mania and emotional displacement along with the fear toxin your metagene was influenced in a way that allowed you to manipulate the mind and the emotion fear. You felt all emotions but fear was much prominent, fear was the easiest to manipulate. Once your abilities manifested they began the brain washing. They knew you would never willingly submit to their commands with how much they had awakened your abilities so they began the brain washing. It was another year of  pharmacological torture before they were successful, you willingly began to do missions for Crane and his friends. You believed he had saved you from the streets and given you extraordinary powers, he had saved your life. Your third year stuck with Crane you commited crimes in the name of several villains, Jonathon gave you the alias the Scarlet Witch. Your powers manifested physically as a red energy, it behaved like a fog in a way: clouding the minds of your victims, manipulating their actions, and bringing their worst fears to the surface. 

     At 23 years old you were just a missing person’s report, a face lost to crime and a failing, corrupt police force. That was until Batman caught you, you were usually gone by the time he arrived to stop you. But this time you had faltered, you swore you recognized the faces you had been forced to mar with a bullet to the forehead. They had tried to speak to you before you killed them, to beg for their lives. But this was your mission, they were your mission. That had been the last mission you ever did for Jonathon Crane, the Batman took you into his custody that night. He delivered you to the Justice League. There you stayed while the League tried to find any information on how you had become this but all they had was a missing person’s report. 

     There they monitored your health and watched you go through withdrawal. It took Bruce three months to find the files that told the demise of Y/F/N Y/L/N. In that time you were diagnosed with a heart arrhythmia from the extended drug use you were subjected to. You gained weight, not so sickly looking anymore. You bonded with Diana, she was one of the few people who didn’t hide their faces from your. Somehow it made you feel more human, while you didn’t trust these people she trusted you enough to see the real her. You hadn’t been around someone so genuine in a long time. It took a year of physical and mental therapy for you to begin unlearning what had been brainwashed into you. In that time you grew closer to Batman. Somehow it seemed he understood what it was like to be unmade and made into something darker. That was the rough start to the beginning of your relationship. 

Present

You never expected to live the life you live now, a life in a mansion with too many kids to count and a husband who loves you unconditionally. A life with friends who she could rely on, some superpowered and some not. A butler who may as well be her father, oh how her young self would scoff at the idea of her life now. Bruce Wayne had given you so much and you only hoped one day you would repay the debt you owed him.

A/N: This is probably absolute shit but this is my idea for Batmom.Rn I’m just setting up backstory. I’ve always loved the idea of Scarlet Witch in the DCU because there’s so much backstory you could put in there. She (you) are still from Sokovia, her immigrant background is going to help tie in with Dick/Damian identity struggles. I also really wanted to do something with fear toxin because I feel Scarecrow is such an underrated villain. So here we have it, enjoy or don’t. I’d really appreciate feedback whether that’s likes/comments/reblogs. Thank you <3 

[nicklloydnow]

“Back in the 21st century, however, not everything was rosy. Indeed, the two-part "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" episode "Past Tense" (January 2 and 9, 1995) threw its main characters back in time — via a transporter accident — to the year 2024 when everything seemed to be at its worst. Earth in 2024 was overrun with poverty, and Captain Sisko (Avery Brooks) had to explain to Dr. Bashir (Alexander Siddig) that housing insecurity had reached epidemic proportions. Indeed, the population of unemployed and unhoused people in major cities had reached such high levels, that the American government had built special "Sanctuary Districts" where the unhoused were rounded up and imprisoned in a ghetto.

The mentally ill weren't treated, and the hungry were fed with a malfunctioning rationing system. It wouldn't be until an activist named Gabriel Bell rose up in protest and led a riot against the police that conditions would change. The Bell Riots were said to be a significant part of Trek's history.

Given the recent news that Governor Gavin Newsom has signed an executive order to sweep the state of unhoused encampments, "Past Tense" — set in 2024 — is beginning to feel weirdly prescient.

Housing insecurity and homelessness, it should be said, is a serious problem in California. Rents are high, and there is little effort made to provide low-cost housing or shelters for the state's many unhoused citizens. At last count, there were over 181,000 unhoused people in the state, 28% of the entire country's unhoused population. Many people live in tents, often set up under freeways or other sheltered areas, and form miniature encampments. There is little sanitation in such encampments, and the quality of life isn't great. Every so often, the police department is called in to sweep these encampments off the streets, forcing the people to move on to another neighborhood. However, they are not taken to shelters but merely told to go elsewhere. They then set up camps under another freeway and the cycle continues.

On July 25, Gavin Newsom signed an order that would only exacerbate the problem, an order stemming from a Supreme Court Decision that allowed states to ban public sleeping at their own discretion. While Newsom has pledged billions of dollars to build shelters, the measure to "sweep the streets" of encampments has been called a wonton and unhelpful measure by critics.

It's a strange coincidence that "Star Trek" should have written a story, back in 1995, about how 2024 will be the year the housing insecurity problem in the United States will boil over. Gavin Newsom has essentially signed a measure that opens the door for the cruel "Sanctuary Districts" seen in "Deep Space Nine." If Newsome is a "DS9" fan, he seems to have taken the wrong lessons from "Past Tense."

(…)

On the DVD commentary track for "Past Tense," the episode's writers — Robert Hewitt Wolfe, Ira Steven Behr, and René Echevarria — said they were inspired by a previous mayor's actions. The Republican Richard Riordan (who was mayor of Los Angeles from 1993 to 2001) suggested in the early 1990s that the city build what he called "havens" for the city's homeless, essentially herding them into tent cities. Riordan said he wanted to keep the streets clear because it was good for local businesses, but he never suggested how these fenced-off "havens" were meant to be run, or how the homeless insides of them were to be helped.

The writers of "Deep Space Nine" were trying to invent a fictional, near-future scenario where the world was too far gone to save. Outside their windows, politicians were merely suggesting it in real life.

While Newsom's new measure doesn't spell out the same kind of "havens" that Riordan suggested, it is uncanny that the new homelessness measures should come tumbling down the pipeline in 2024, when "Past Tense" takes place. We'll have to wait to see if Gabriel Bell is also real. It's starting to feel like it.“

[pumpacti0n]

Reading the room

"A prevailing sentiment is that now is not the time to criticize Biden because SCOTUS & the Heritage Foundation have declared war on the left & Project 2025 - the White male Christian Evangelist mission - which was, in part, tested on a few African regimes in exchange for "aid" - is finally coming home to roost, so "vote blue no matter who!"

We should seemingly ignore every lie, every 2000 lb. bomb, every weapon shipment, and the literal piles of dead & obliterated bodies we've seen every day for the past nine months because if we criticize Biden or point out the Dem party's complicity in genocide, it will complicate what we must defend against in November.

Nevermind the illegal settlements and land grabs in the West Bank, the torture and abuse of Palestinian hostages, nevermind the under-counted death toll, the expanding war, the disdain for international law, the ceasefire ploys to continue the genocide, the lies direct from the president's mouth, nevermind the added funds that Biden and democratic mayors across the country are giving to militarize the police and build Cop Cities because November is just around the corner.

Now is not the time to point out what Dr. King, Assata Shakur, Malcolm X, Kwame Ture and so many of our revered elders have told us about "liberals", or to bring up Fannie Lou Hamer's "Nobody is free until everybody is free", or to point out that Biden is opposed to expanding the court, or that the Dem Party elite endorsed candidates to run against Black progressives that called for a ceasefire, or that actual climate defenders have abandoned Biden, or that he has "green-lit" more oil drilling than his right-wing predecessor...

The prevailing sentiment is that we should forgo any leverage we may have as voters, that this is no time to demand more from our handlers, we should let them kill or exploit as many Palestinians, Congolese, Haitians, South & Central Americans and Asians as they want because we got an election coming up in November and if we don't ignore what these same blue folks are doing in our names outside of the country and vote blue, the red ones are gonna take away our rights at home.

Now is not the time to educate voters on the Dem Party's center right policies or to point out how a coalition of progressive 3rd party candidates could carve a path for citizens to actually achieve the policies they dream of and break the corporate hegemony, or to point out how a mass social movement, already underway, could be mobilized to force the power out of the hands of those who hold it over our heads, pointing to what we should fear from the other side, while making zero concessions to our demands.

Now is not the time to make demands or correlations between the fight against the gender binary & the readily accepted political party binary. Now is not the time to educate, push, or think, now is the time to fear!

Now is not the time to point out that Black Americans comprise 25% of the world's prison population and that the policies that imprisoned them were drawn up by Biden and imposed by Clinton. Now is not the time to bring up the Clinton's involvement in Haiti, or Obama's war crimes in the Middle East. Now is not the time to bring up the Middle East or America's imperial agenda readily endorsed by both parties or to acknowledge it as part of white supremacist ideology.

Now is not the time to learn any lessons from the "mask-off" moment that would align anti-Zionism with antisemitism, or to question the US military's role as the world's largest fossil fuel consumer, or to question what game the Biden administration is playing with Israeli billionaires to facilitate greater mineral extraction in the Congo. Now is not the time to think globally or to connect the dots between what its imposed on the global majority for our so-called comforts at home.

Now is not the time to understand what LandBack means in relation to climate, colonialism, genocide or to make any amends, right any wrongs, redirect our agendas, beat down corporate or foreign lobbies...No, no, no! Now is the time to fear.

Now is not the time to hear how you sound, to point out how you got got, to remind you that you could actually transform society if you decided to hold a meeting tonight, to call your friends and family, to organize, create think tanks, food banks, community policing organizations* that force out the men in blue (the silent partners in your ..."no matter who" slogans).

Now is not the time to point out that the bloodbath you're avoiding is already overflowing with blood, that your self-centered focus is exactly what the bloodthirsty expect from you so that they can carry on with business as usual, or that you've allowed fear to diminish your concerns to the point of voting for business as usual."

[source]

[sugar-soda]

Kids Shouldn't be Here: John Hancock

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

A/N: This is NOT romantic at all! This is all platonic relationships that explore how the Fallout 4 companions and game would change if the Sole Survivor was a young child. Any romantic suggestions or reblogs will be blocked.

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Kids were never in Goodneighbor for long.

Diamond City is where families stayed. Where couples went to lay down roots and send their children to school and grow old surrounded by grandkids and loved ones. Goodneighbor was for everyone else. The ghouls, drifters, merchants, chem addicts, and everyone looking for a good not-so-family-friendly time.

The occasional settler would come in with a little one, a brief stop in their search of a place to call home. They would typically only stay the night at Hotel Redford then leave in the morning, their children never being seen between when they show up and leaving. The kid would be left in the locked, rented room while their parents bought supplies. No one complained except anyone unfortunate to be staying in the room under them.

Citizens of Goodneighbor prefered it that way. The lifestyle that they enjoyed had little room for entertaining anyone too young to enjoy a hit of Jet. Many probably didn't even like kids, as patience was not a virtue they possessed. Only a few would be willing to deal with them. Daisy had a soft heart under her hard shell, and wouldn’t mind a settler bringing their children, but none ever had. Kent had started his love for the Silver Shroud when he was very young, and mentioned he hoped he sparked the same love in other youths. Dr. Amari had been called out of the city a few times to check on a kid who had taken a rough fall to the head, or was experiencing memory problems, but those calls were few and far between.

So, when a kid did show up, it was strange…

______________________________________________________________

Mayor John Hancock didn't interact with kids very much. The last time he interacted with one was probably when he was still a stupid teenager, giving one of the Diamond City kids a too rough nougie before he went to find an unsupervised area to get high in.

When he established Goodneighbor, there weren't any kids around. Ghoul kids are rare as hell and he had no business with any settler's kids when they came through. 

When he was a kid, John thought teens were annoying and adults were stupid. As a teen, he thought kids were stupid and adults were annoying. As an adult, he realized kids and teens were stupid and adults were really stupid.

Tonight, it was blissfully quiet. He had come down to enjoy a smoke outside the Statehouse with Fahrenheit right beside him. Leaning against the wall, he could hear what few stragglers were still hanging around. With how late it was, almost everyone was down at the Third Rail. Daisy and KL-E-O were still open for another half hour and were quietly bargaining with customers. Anyone else around was either a guard or enjoying a quiet high like he was.

The mentats he took earlier were still effecting his senses. He swore he could hear everything better right now. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and took a drag, holding the smoke in for a minute before letting it go. He better enjoy this moment before work inevitably begins again.

The horrible, metallic screech of the entrance broke the silence. John grimaced and made a mental note to get someone to oil the damned thing tomorrow. He kept his eyes closed, refusing to let the moment pass.

“It seems a rook has brought in a pawn.” Fahrenheit stated cryptically.

John hated when she spoke like that. It was chilling when she said it to some pretentious Bunker Hill merchant, but when she did it to him, it was just frustrating. If she wanted to tell him anything while he was high, she couldn’t expect him to get it if she was speaking riddles.

He cracked open one eye slightly. Turns out the creaking door wasn't welcoming another late night drifter, but a group.

Good ol’ Nick Valentine with them. John didn't see much of him nowadays. He would only stop over at Goodneighbor for a case. That at least meant that something interesting was happening. When John was a teenager, the synth detective would regularly catch any misbehavior he was in. He would confiscate any chems or alcohol he had, but he never gossiped about it like anyone else who caught him. Nick would just voice concern over how he was killing himself then leave. John would be mad at the time, but he appreciated it now. He hoped the detective stuck around to catch up.

There was a Mr. Handy, too. A neat little bowler hat sat on its head like Whitechapel Charlie, though he doubted he had the same custom accent his bartender had.

The third member of the party made John put his full attention on them. Nick had brought an actual fucking kid to Goodneighbor.

The kid had a sniper rifle and a duffle bag thrown over her shoulder. Leather armor that wasn’t made for such a small body covered her arms and torso, but it didn't do much to cover the blue and yellow vault suit. The Pip-boy didn't help John's confusion. Twin braids swung as she swiveled her head to look around. 

Whatever case she was part of, Nick probably had it handled. No need for him to stick his non-existent nose in detective business. 

“Guess I'll have to tell Charlie to keep Nuka on hand, unless you wanna be on drunk toddler duty?,” he half-joked. Charlie's age recognition component had actually busted about three years ago and they never got around to fixing it, since it wasn't normally an issue. To the Mr. Handy, the Vaultie would look no different than any other patron. 

Fahrenheit scoffed and John leaned his head back, ready to take another hit, when Finn's grating voice scratched in his ears and broke the silence worse than the rusted door did.

Finn was on the really, really stupid end of the spectrum. Always squawking and harassing any newcomers and getting on the mayor’s last nerve. 

John focused on their conversation, but stayed put. Finn went into his lie about the Vaultie needing “insurance” with so little charm or charisma that John would have thought he was a predator rather than an asshole.

“Thanks for the offer, pal, but we'll be just fine,” Nick spat out the word ‘pal’ like a curse. He pulled the kid's arm gently, placing her behind him and acting as a barrier between her and Finn. The detective could be pretty intimating if he wanted to. He was full six feet tall when most had trouble reaching five foot eight, had exposed wires and steel frame that won't break easy like bones do, and a yellow glare that went straight through your soul. Smart men would know to just leave the synth alone and take the loss.

“I wasn't talkin’ to you, synth. I was talkin’ to the kid,” Finn was not a smart man.

The Mr. Handy spoke then, “The young Miss has no business with you, sir. Take your scam elsewhere, as you'll get no caps from us today.” Ha. Called it, no custom accent.

The Vaultie said something then, but it was too quiet for him to hear her. The mentats must be wearing off. 

Finn must have not heard her either, because his temper flared and his volume rose, “ What'd you say, you little bitch?”. His hand reached for his pistol. Looks like John needed to step in now.

“Whoa, whoa. Time out,” he interrupted, “Nick Valentine makes a rare visit to town, and you're hassling his friend here with that extortion crap? Lay off, she’s just a kid.” He gave a quick nod toward the synth. “Good to see you again, Nick.”

“Hancock,” he replied flatly.

Finn clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. Looks like he was already on edge tonight. Someone else must have already called him out on his bullshit.

“What d'you care? She ain't one of us,” Finn Sasser, puffing his chest out like he was an animal trying to intimate John. He wasn't.

John had always been a shorter guy, and becoming a ghoul made him look skinny as hell, though Dr. Amari had assured him the weight loss was from the loss of his skin and that he was a normal weight for a ghoul his size. Point was, John Hancock didn't strike a physically imposing figure, so he was used to fighting taller assholes who were itching for a fight.

Ain't one of them come back for seconds either.

“No love for your mayor, Finn?” He warned, “I said let her go.”

That seemed to irritate Finn even more. “You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor.”

Yep. That was it. Time for Finn to go.

John grinned, “Come on, man. This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something.” He reached into his coat with one hand as he placed his other on Finn's shoulder. Pulling Finn down, he flicked out his knife and drove it into the man's stomach, repeating the motion a few times for good measure. All of the air in Finn's body left in a quiet, pained grunt before John let his corpse fall like a sack of tatos. The kid made a noise that was a mix of fear and shock and gripped Nick's sleeve for comfort.

“Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here.”

Slipping his knife back into its hidden sheath, Hancock put his full attention back on his guests.  Nick's glare had turned into one of exasperation and the Mr.Handy's eyes were narrowed in on him as a new threat. The Vaultie's eyes were full of fear, respect, and a little bit of relief. Looks like he had done the right thing, at least as far as he was concerned.

“Sorry, Nick. You know I'd prefer to give you a warmer welcome, but some people just don't know how to roll out the welcome mat,” he greeted.

“Well, I should know better than to be surprised at casual stabbings in Goodneighbor by now,” Nick replied. “Though, I think you gave the wrong first impression to my client here.”

The kid's grip hadn't let up on the synth's sleeve. Any harder and she would rip it.

John stepped a bit closer and held out his hand. “You all right, sister?” he asked. He didn't know how long this kid had been out of the vault, but judging by her gear, he guessed this wasn't her first time seeing a dead body.

She blinked a few times, as if processing what happened, then finally snapped back into reality to answer. “Yeah, I'm…I'm fine, just wasn't expecting that. Thank you for your help, sir,” She said before taking his hand and shaking it.

Damn, this kid was tall. Standing next to Nick, she looked around average height for a child, but standing closer showed John he only had a few inches on her. He knew he wasn't the tallest guy in the Commonwealth but shit. What were her parents feeding her?

“Good. Now don't let this incident taint your view of our little community,” John put on his least threatening smile. “Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome.”

“I feel you. You're the Mayor here?” She asked, tilting her head.

John's smile spread a little wider. “ Heh. Got a good pair of ears on ya. Mayor John Hancock, leader of this little slice of chaos.”

The girl smiled a little, amused at John's introduction. “Sunny Roberts, and this is Codsworth.” She released his hand to gesture at the Mr. Handy, whose eyes were still targeting John. Not everyone likes the zombie look, he guesses.

Backing up, John said his farewell to Nick, “Don't be a stranger, brother. You can visit outside of detective work, ya know?”

“Not this time, Hancock. I'll buy you a round next time to make up for it,” Nick promised, rolling his eyes fondly.

John laughed. “I'll hold you to it.” He looked back at Sunny. “You stay cool, kid, and you'll be part of the neighborhood. So long as you remember who's in charge.”

She gave a serious nod. “Yes, sir, Mayor Hancock.”

Tipping his hat, Hancock turned and sauntered back toward the Statehouse. Break time was over.

“Our men could take a few lessons in respect from her,” Fahrenheit said, falling into step behind him. “And manners.”

“Heh. If our reputation and the fact we pay them don't teach ‘em respect, nothing will.” As the doors to the Statehouse closed, he held his chin in mock thought. “ Say, how old ya think the kid is?”

Fahrenheit was silent for a second, then answered, “Twelve, she hasn't hit puberty yet.”

“Naaah. She has to be like fifteen, sixteen. You saw how tall she was? Give her a year or two and she'll be taller than both of us.” John put his hands behind his head. “I bet fifty caps she's at least fourteen.”

“I'll take that bet.”

______________________________________________________________

John didn't actually expect to hear about or see Sunny again, but three days later, Publik Occurrences had an article all about the young girl. He had his men run and get one every time a new article was made, so he could either keep up to date with news that could threaten Goodneighbor, or laugh at Piper's more wild articles.

This latest one was all about the kid with a sniper rifle he had met, who turned out to have been a popsicle not too long ago. Fahrenheit and him got into an argument over the caps he owed her. He said that both of them were wrong, as neither of them guessed Sunny was two hundred twelve-years-old. Fahrenheit said the years in the freezer didn't count and that she won the bet. While John didn't exactly agree, she took her caps anyway.

He saw Vaultie again a week after that first meeting. Nick was still with her, but Codsworth had been switched out with Piper Wright herself. He had only seen them enter the town and given a wave before a meeting with Bunkerhill merchants called him in. 

A later check-in with the Third Rail revealed she had met Ham, Magnolia, and Charlie that day. Ham had only let her in on the fact that she was there on business, investigating a runaway who was friends with Mags, and a promise not to drink any alcohol, as Ham didn't want to deal with a drunk pre-teen.

Which was a promise she kept, as Whitechapel Charlie reported that she had only bought a Nuka-Cola to get him to answer questions. John had let out a quick sigh of relief at that, as he completely forgot to tell the robot not to sell alcohol to the kid. That relief was short-lived as Charlie then informed him he had hired Sunny to clear out the storehouses. A job he deeply regretted delegating now.

Magnolia was more put out than the Mayor over this information, as she had nothing but nice things to say about Sunny. How polite and sweet she was and how it was so nice to have an audience member sober through her entire set. She had threatened Charlie, saying if the kid got hurt, she would scrap him for parts herself.

John was thoroughly surprised to find the storehouses cleared out two days later.

Outside of Nick, Piper, and Codsworth, she had a whole host of people in her rotating roster of companions. There was Dogmeat, who John had met before when the pooch was sniffing around Nick's heels. There was a Minuteman, Preston Garvey, who was a bit too straight laced for his taste, but seemed like a nice guy. And there was a Brotherhood of Steel guy, Paladin What's-his-face, that Sunny seemed to lose more and more patience for everytime she brought him along. 

She also had somehow found time to hire McCready at some point in her trip to the Third Rail, as he vacated the backroom and was next seen with Sunny leading an assaultron who had been modified to dispense ice-cold beer down the streets. When asked, Sunny told him she had been hired to retrieve it and take it to the hotel.

About two and a half weeks after that, John had been looking for someone to check out the Pickman Gallery. While he had never been there himself, the rumors of the place were chilling, and it was just a little too close for comfort for him to ignore. The kid must have overheard him talking about it at some point, because she came up to the Statehouse with a knife and a disgusting painting made of blood as proof of the place being cleared out. Apparently, the guy had been draining raiders like a vampire for his ‘art’, and the whole building was full of paintings like that one. After he paid the kid, he burned the probably haunted painting, sent a group of men to clear out the gallery for his own piece of mind, and gave Fahrenheit an order to make sure the kid wouldn’t take anymore of his “jobs”.  

After that fiasco, the kid seemed to be everywhere. Diamond City Radio news started to be filled with stories of “the Kid who won't Die”, “the Child of Death”, and “the Sole Survivor”, which was the name that stuck. Outside of Piper's article, the Commonwealth seemed to forget her actual name. Sometimes, Sunny was just called “Sole”. When he wasn't hearing about her and her companions over the radio, one of his citizens had something to tell him about her.

Daisy told him about how she had given a long overdue book to the kid, and how she offhandedly mentioned how bad she felt about not returning it and how awful it was that the place was overtaken by supermutants. Sunny returned three days later, slightly singed, with a return token and the news she had cleared the place out. And it was.

She had met Kent and turned his one man fan club into a duo as she was a fan of the Silver Shroud as well. They both somehow convinced Preston to wear a Silver Shroud costume and take down some criminals as the crusader. He had to hold back his snickers when talking to the man, but they actually did a pretty good job. Then Kent got kidnapped and they had to go rescue him. After they all got out, John sadly didn't see anymore of the Silver Shroud.

The eternally bitter ex-Vault-Tec Rep had finally moved out of Hotel Redford. The Roberts family had coincidentally been the last family he signed up for Vault 111 before the bombs fell and he had been denied the safety he had sold others. When she was visiting to see if they could get the beer dispenser to dispense Nuka-Cola, the ghoul recognized her and there was a confrontation. According to some of the hotel's patrons, there had been some yelling and Paladin What's-his-face had to hold the man back from Sunny. After that, she had offered for him to come live in Sanctuary and start a new life. When he left, it was the first time John had seen him smile.

______________________________________________________________

Paper work was never John's favorite thing to do, but it was better than meetings, so he didn't complain as much (he still complained, just less than when he had meetings).

That didn't mean he didn't take every excuse he could to get out of it. It was midday and almost everyone was taking a break for lunch. Fahrenheit was off doing who knows what, so he had taken the opportunity to sit down and get high in peace.

He held the hit of Jet in for a moment before letting it go. The first hit was always the best, but he was a long way from getting truly high.

John startled as a sharp knock broke the silence in the room and he fumbled to not drop his Jet. “Dammit! What?”

A guard stuck his head in and said, “The Sole Survivor is here. She says she needs to talk to you.”

He must have taken a bigger hit than he thought, because John had trouble getting his brain to work. “What?” He said, pushing himself off the couch and starting toward the front of the building. Why would the kid need to talk to him? Last time he directly spoke to her was during the Silver Shroud adventure, and that was a few weeks ago. Most of the conversation had been between Preston and him.

Sure enough, there she was. Dogmeat and Paladin What's-his-face were with her today. Her old leather armor had been sold and replaced with combat armor, though it still fit awkwardly as it was made for a fully grown adult. Even the dog got some new goggles and little doggie armor.

She had her back turned toward him as she glared at the Brotherhood soldier. Whatever they were talking about, the discussion had clearly turned sour. It was honestly comical, some big man in power armor arguing with a little girl and her puppy. John hoped Sunny won, just for comedic effect.

“As a Brotherhood squire-”

“As a Brotherhood PALADIN-” Sunny cut him off, “-you are supposed to protect me and help strengthen the Minuteman alliance, Paladin Danse. Yet all you have done is been a jackass and make everything worse.”

“That is insubordi-” Paladin Danse tried to snap, but Sunny wasn't going to give him any ground.

“It STOPPED being insubordination when your leadership made everything worse at the Slog and at Graygarden. Those are Minuteman allies and you directly threatened-”

John coughed loudly. As entertaining as it was, it looked like Sunny was ready to physically fight the Paladin with her bare hands, and that was a fight he didn't want in the Statehouse. 

Sunny whirled around, her lips pressed in a tight line. “Mayor Hancock! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come down. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important,” She apologized. A light blush was creeping up her face, clearly embarrassed being caught mid-argument.

“Ehh, depends on what you find important. Nothing that can't wait for the great ‘Sole Survivor’,” he quipped.

Sunny grimaced at the nickname. “Oh, you heard it, too?”

John barked a laugh, “Haha! Only the entire Commonwealth has, sister. Better get used to the fame. Come on, join me in the office and you can tell me what's so important.”

Sunny started to follow, paused, then turned back to her companions. “Stay. Here,” She snarled through gritted teeth at Paladin Danse. Her gaze softened when looking at Dogmeat and she gave him an affectionate rub on the head. “Make sure he doesn't cause any trouble, okay boy?,” She said before following John, leaving the Paladin to stew in annoyance over being babysat by a dog.

Sunny sat on the couch in the office very politely, with her hands folded neatly in her lap and very deliberately not mentioning the smell of cigarettes and drugs that seemed to choke the air in the room.

“Ya want anything to eat?,” John offered as he swiped a Fancy Lad for himself. No use in going into this conversation with the munchies. He would have offered her something to drink, but all he had was vodka, wine, beer, and more vodka. The only time he drank something nonalcoholic was when Fahrenheit poured water down his throat during a hangover.

“No thank you. I already ate with Miss Daisy earlier,” She said. After Sunny had cleared the library and given the poor woman a heart attack, Sunny had become a regular shopper at the store, as the settlement she lived in didn't have a regular supply store yet, and she disliked the one in Diamond City.

“Suit yourself,” John shrugged, “what can I help ya with, kid?”

“It's about one of the citizens.”

John drew in a hiss. He really hoped this wasn't going where he thinks it's going. “They didn't…do anything to ya, did they?” 

Sunny shook her head vigorously. Looks like he didn't have to cut anyone's balls off today. “No, no. It's not that kind of issue. No one here has tried to do anything to me since you stabbed Finn when I first visited,” She assured. 

“ That's good to hear. Who's got you so concerned then?” He took another Fancy Lad. Not the most healthy lunch, but he never liked salads anyway. 

“Bobbi No-Nose,” She stated.

That made more sense in why she was here. While no one in Goodneighbor had a squeaky clean record, Bobbi had a habit of causing trouble specifically designed to give others headaches. In the past few years, she hasn't been happy with John's control over Goodneighbor and made herself a constant thorn in his side because of it. 

“Ol’ No-Nose? She ain’t no fan of mine, but she’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“She wants me to help rob you.”

The Fancy Lad caught in John’s throat. Serves him right for not taking care of the slimy bitch sooner, now she’s trying to get a kid mixed up on her crimes. “Excuse me?”

“First she told me that she was breaking into one of Diamond City’s warehouses. She said that they put all of the former resident belongings in there and that she wanted to take them back, but that didn’t sound right. Why would they put things in a storehouse to rot instead of just selling it for a profit, or using it, or even breaking it down for parts. After a bit, she admitted that she and her associate were breaking into one of your warehouses.”

John ran a hand down his face, already tired of this bullshit. Did this woman really try to tell the most obvious lie in the world to the world’s most observant, rule-abiding, dangerous middle schooler? If the next sentence that came out of her mouth was that she shot the ghoul for trying to break the law, or that she came right here after the offer, he wouldn’t be surprised by either reaction. 

“I told her I would think about it, then came right here.” Called it. “I don’t know how she’s planning on getting in, or who her accomplice is, but she told me they needed someone small to get to certain areas, and the day she plans on doing the heist. I thought it was best to tell you all this and see what you wanted to do.”

Fuck. If Bobbi had been doing it solo, he could just bust her door down and take care of the bitch himself, but her accomplice could still go through with the heist if Bobbi kicks the bucket, and he had no idea on how they planned on doing it in the first place. 

“Alright, sister,” John sighed, forming a quick, basic plan, “You tell me when this heist is happening, then I want you to go back to No-Nose and tell her that you accept the job. I’m gonna send extra men to guard my warehouses. Keep ya head down so you don’t get shot. After that, I’ll need to know how she got in so I can shut it down for good. Ya got that?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, giving another serious nod like she had when they first met.

“Okay,” John said, standing and stretching his back. “Break time’s over. Thanks for the warning, kid.” as he walked past, he gave Sunny’s hair a quick ruffle. Didn’t know why he did it, but it felt right at that moment, so he did. 

Sunny gave a big smile that shone just like her namesake and stood up. “Thanks, Mayor Hancock! Have a nice day. I’ll see you after Bobbi’s been taken care of.” Then off she went, leaving his office in complete silence again.

John gave a lazy wave as he sat down at his desk. Pulling out a case of mentats, he popped one in his mouth and rolled it around his tongue, staring at the door Sunny had left wide open.

Heh. She was a good kid.

______________________________________________________________

John was pissed.

He hadn’t been exactly sure how Bobbi was planning on getting in the warehouse. Maybe she found an opening in the guards’ schedule or her accomplice had more influence than the average joe. Whatever theory he came up with, he couldn’t think of a way Sunny would be needed. He definitely wasn’t expecting them to tunnel into the warehouse.

According to Farheinheit, when they popped out of the ground, no one got shot. Sunny had convinced Bobbi and her accomplice to leave Goodneighboor for good instead of dying. While Ferheinheit and himself were put off by the lack of bloodshed, the goods in the warehouse were still there and No-Nose wouldn’t be bothering him again. Happy ending for all, right?

So why was he so annoyed at the situation? He puffed on a cigarette in thought as Farheinheit finished her report and left. There was once upon a time where he would have loved to be part of a heist like that, but now he wanted to put a bullet through Bobbi for trying to pull a fast one on him. He could say it was because it was a personal slight to insult his intelligence by trying to rob him in broad daylight, but he knew the real reason.

He was getting too comfortable in power. Here he was condemning his critics for doing the same thing he did back in Diamond City. He was itching to hunt down Bobbi and make an example of her, but an example of what? Of the fact he has forgotten his own sins and is now killing his own people? That he doesn’t do his own dirty work and left a kid to deal with it? That he was a tyrant?

Fahrenheit opened the door again, “Sir, the Sole Survivor is here.”

“Just call me Sunny, please. I already hear that name enough from settlers.”

Sunny entered, ducking under his bodyguard’s arm to get through. He could hear Mac and Piper’s voices faintly from downstairs, cutting up with one of his guards. Sunny herself looked the same as always, but was covered in a faint layer of dry dirt, giving her the look of a carpenter or farmer.

“Hello, Mayor Hancock. I showed your men the entrance to the tunnel in No-Nose’s house. They are trying to figure out the most secure way to close it. I found a broken suit of power armor that got down there somehow and the guards said that it wasn’t worth fixing ‘cause of the missing pieces. So we moved it to Daisy’s for the Minutemen to come pick it up, unless you want it of course.”

She kept talking, but John wasn’t listening. Sunny was definitely more morally upright than him, but she was fair. If you tried to kill, she would kill you. (Though he hadn’t personally seen her in a fight yet, his men reported Pickman and a whole group of raiders dead at the gallery.) She wasn’t going to kill for talking shit, like he did Finn, or for theft, like he wanted to do to Bobbi, but there were consequences. If you were good to her, she was good back. She was polite, speaking to him by his title and all that bureaucratic stuff. Sunny helped without being asked, but spat venom if she thought someone was wrong. She had looked death in the eye more than once and somehow survived. There were a lot of things he could say about the kid, but the most important part was that she was free.

She had a lot to learn about how the Commonwealth worked, but she was doing a damned good job of forcing it to learn how she worked. She was the most free person he had seen in a while. She went where she wanted despite her guardians' protests, made decisions how she wanted, said what she wanted, and helped not for payment, but because she wanted to. She had no power over anyone but herself, and that made her more powerful and respectable at twelve than most were at fifty. People listened to her because she had no desire to control them, just a desire to be a good person, and people responded to that, even if the baby face and braids had made many hesitant. The respect she had gained was out of awe of youth and trust of innocence, and now John feared he was commanding respect not from a sense of justice and freedom, but out of fear and control.

“Sorry ya got mixed up in all of this, short stack,” he cut her off.

Sunny wasn’t bothered. “No-Nose was the one to ask me in the first place. It’s not your fault. Sorry we blew up your floor.”

“That reminds me,” John said, leaning back in his chair. “We got to talk about paying off the damages you caused to the building. You did a lot of damage to the foundation.”

Sunny frowned thoughtfully. “How much do I owe?”

He bit his tongue, trying to hold back laughter. “Twenty thousand caps.”

Sunny’s eyes widened. “Is there any work I can do to pay it off? I don’t have that kind of money right now.”

John couldn’t hold it in and burst into laughter, “Pfft. The look on your face. Forget the money. Chump change,” he stood up from his seat as Sunny let out a sigh of relief. Like he said, she still had a lot to learn. “Lemme tell ya, sister. This classy little tricorner hat of mine is getting heavy. Am I turning into the man? Some kind of tyrant? I spend all my time putting down the people I would've been proud to scheme with just a few years ago. I need to take a walk again. Get a grip on what really matters: Living free. And you seem to be a pretty free bird.”

“Are you saying you want to leave Goodneighbor…and follow me around?” Sunny looked confused as she tilted her head. “,But aren’t you their leader? Why would you want to leave?”

“For one, Bobbi almost pulled a job on me. That means I'm getting too comfortable. Need to get out there and hone the razor. For two, Goodneighbor is about doing your own thing. I’d still be in charge, don’t get me wrong. The mayor's still the mayor, whether he's "in residence" or not. I've walked out of here plenty of times. Keeps me honest. Can't let power get to my head. That's not what being in charge of Goodneighbor is about. If I don't leave every once and a while, the power's gonna change me. Can't have that. Besides, you might just be the right kind of trouble with everything you get yourself mixed up in? Can’t let the young ones have all the fun, now can I?”

Sunny ignored Fahreheit’s comment of John “,Only being in your thirties. You're not that old.”

“Well, if you are willing to help, who am I to say no?” she gave a toothy grin.

Returning it with one of his own, John headed toward the doors to the balcony. “Let me just have a little chat with my community, first. Give them the news. Then we can get this show on the road.”

[goldkirk]

also, I UNDERSTAND. I understand how ineffectual and morally and ideologically sold out the democrats are. I don’t want them either.

but I LIVED THROUGH a mayoral election during a race where the vote split. The forces of moral uprightness vs the corrupt selfish evil. Whatever you want to call it. It was like that.

there were three main players:

the industry plant: a long time (32 years) city council member, the endorsed (and spiritual) successor of the man who’d been our mayor for years and years and years—that mayor was very ethically and financially corrupt, and also groomed and molested me between the ages of 4 and 7.

just some guy: a man who was not corrupt like industry plant but wasn’t super anti-corruption and such. more chill go with the flow, somewhat able to be bought, not corrupt like our local government officials currently were though.

a woman with backbone: Track record as a former city council member who actively fought and called out corruption and under the table dealing and refused to be bribed, which obviously won no coworker favors but did endear her to a lot of citizens who found her championing city funding transparency or things like adding sidewalks

The endorsed man had the full weight of the local political machinery behind him. The other two had the majority of the common citizens.

The man didn’t drop out because he believed the woman wasn’t capable of winning and he’d do it best. The woman didn’t drop out because she didn’t believe the man was resistant enough to corruption. (These are heinous oversimplifications. I understand. I’m trying to make a specific point, so allow me this for now.)

On election night, guess what happened?

The man who ran with the machine behind him got the votes he expected. Not quite the majority, but a lot.

The rest of the populace had split.

Some voted for the other guy. Some voted for the woman. (Many, as usual, didn't vote at all, unlike the local corrupt labor union bloc that turns out in force every cycle for their chosen machinery candidate.)

The majority vote did NOT go to a candidate most citizens wanted.

the vote was split almost in thirds. and you know what?

I watched the sliiiiiiightly largest third win, and saw a man celebrate who was chosen for the King of The Whole City position by a man who sexually abused me and used his local-kingly-powers for personal gain and under the table dealings before I was tall enough to go down a water slide.

37% of the vote was enough to elect the nominated successor of my childhood sexual abuser into office without term limits. He then proceeded to reign as mayor for multiple terms, and the city stayed as corrupt as ever instead of having ANY alternate instead.

No, it’s not exactly the same in this election. But it should be enough to make us ask questions, plan, and organize from the ground up without moral infighting when the stakes are so high.

We’re all tired. But not all of us are in the same amounts of danger from different outcomes. It MATTERS.

Who’s the up-next four year old you might be able to save from abuse by voting, you know?

better financial and societal policies come AFTER immediate scene-is-on-fire safety is secured. in the middle of a crisis, and this is by far a crisis, you choose the next thing that keeps you ALIVE and you plan bullet points and strategies for what comes NEXT after you’re not about to die every other block going down the street, metaphorically.

[cf8wrk4u-us]

Transformers Prime/ A Quiet Place Crossover: Rescue-Bots Edition

Location: Griffin Rock

On Day One of the creatures arrival, like many islands, Griffin Rock was luckily saved from any collision with asteroids carrying the predatory aliens.

Doc Greene was aware of the cluster of meteors that were heading towards earth. But with contact with NASA he was assured everything was fine and they were aware of the debris heading towards the planets. Doc Greene didn't feel good about the answer but figured since the authorities were already informed and he was sure that the asteroids would break-up in Earth's atmosphere all he had to report to the Mayor and Chief Burns was the town was in for an impressive daylight celestial event.

And it was the day the asteroids fell the citizens if Griffin Rock looked at the sky in delight and amazement, only seconds later to realize the terror the world was going through. Especially in New York where the creatures wrecked havoc on the poor residents of the city.

There was panic, people unsure what to do, people who wanted to travel back to the mainland to get to their families. Chief Burns was the one who reluctantly called for a locked down on any transportation to the mainland. Many people were unhappy but Chief Burns did his best to explain that it was for the safety of the island, they had no idea what those aliens were, what they could do, or if what's happening to the mainland would spread to their community. That's why they needed to wait for further instructions by the government.

So, for how long they were able to the people of Griffin Rock saw, listened, and viewed all the terror happening on the mainland. Chief Burns did his best to make sure Cody didn't see anything on T.V. the young boys curiosity would always get the better of him and he view post made about the "Death-Angeles" in excruciating details.

When it was discovered that the aliens couldn't swim in deep water, the coast guard finally called to Griffin Rocks Rescue Team to get any boat available and bring them to New York, needing all the help they can get to evacuate the many survivors from the ground zero of the disaster.

Chief Burns and the rest of his team eagerly agreed, going over the necessary and absolute conditions needed to evacuate people safely and silently. Calling on volunteers with boats to assist them. Getting Arthur Shaw the ferry man and Wild the fishermen to volunteer in the rescue.

Chief Burns left Graham on the island with Cody, promising to radio them every step of the way.

The mission was dangerous but hopeful and with cooperation and careful planning they should help get a good number of civilians to safety.

But that didn't happen.

It was radio silent from the Griffin Rock rescue group, something Graham expected but was still off-putted by. Cody would look over the horizon, trying to spot his family and the boats.

After a day, static hushed voices cane over the line. It was Chief Burns asking for medical assistance to stand by as they would be docking soon.

Graham was relieved and Cody was excited.

But by the time the boats pulled up they watched with gaped months at the horrible scratch marks that littered the haul of the rescue boat and Wilds ship, deep gouges over metal, shattered glass, and the most frightful of all was the blood on the halls.

Arthur Shaw and his boat were nowhere to be seen.

Chief Burns carried an injured Dani off the boat with Kade trailing behind them. A few survivors were with them. All injured in different degrees. But not as many as they had hoped for.

Chief Burns called then for a total lockdian of the island, that no boats were to ever go to the mainland. And for lack of a better words that they were on their own now.

A haunted look was forever set upon the chiefs eyes and that of his children who accompanied him. Forever scared by what he saw and the choices he made to guarantee that his team would survive.

Kade and Dani were not much better and refused to talk about what happened when they made it on shore.

Griffen Rock became a haven for people of the mainland, a safe place from the destruction of the world they once knew. Something Chief Burns did his best to maintain. Even when conflict arrived between the mainland survivors and the residents of Griffin Rock.

On the island they were safe.

Or for the most part.

And this is the world that Geatwave and the rest if his group awaken too.

[jazzy-art-time]

Hey, Jazzy! This whole 'Jarble' dealio you've got rolling seems like quite the shebang! But I've heard rumblings of something called 'The Hends'.

Now, I might not be the sharpest tack but I'm crackerjack at guessing! Is The Hends either a brand new dance craze sweeping the pool halls or a painful ailment that affects careless divers?

Today is the day I finally answer this ask that you sent me so long ago that you forgot you sent it.

Todays that day Cam LastName Pix. Today is that day this is finally free from my inbox. This one silly ask you sent me that I ended up toiling over for no real reason other than getting in my own head about it.

Today is the day

The Hend family is the primary “family” and leaders of the Perception Ring within Jarbline City!

When it comes to the Ring’s and the “families” that run them, technically The Hends are the oldest running family within Jarbline City. They have the longest record of keeping the Ring Leader within their own bloodline.

Unlike the Farefell family who has had random switches from outsiders here or there. The Hend’s have almost always kept it within a specific bloodline for centuries.

“Family” is often used in quotations because a big thing with Jarble is that the “family names” can either mean blood related or heavy association. Like for example, Dysnomia. He is not blood related to any Hend family member, but he is considered a Hend (even so much as having his last name changed legally) due to how associated/involved with the family he became. It’s a label he wears proudly, but still. So “family” is more of loose term.

As some “Farefell Family” members aren’t… actually related to Wem Farefell in the slightest. But just, heavily associate to the point that it’s basically might as well be. Etc etc

BUT THE HENDS.

The Hends live within the Left Segment of Jarbline City. Covering the area that has more open land, this leads to many ranches/farms and whatnot being in that area. They overlap with the Mending Ring in a more Medical Sector of the city. As for the area where they overlap with the Shining Ring… is just basically a war zone.

The Hend’s primary “cover up” for everything they do is basically just “We run the ranch and landscape area of Jarbline City”. Claiming to primarily be used for cattle or various vegetation/food that the city produces. Which.. they DO do but not as much as one would think.

Their primary crimes are usually linked to: Personal Assassination/Hitmen for hire, Underground fighting rings, illegal animal/flora smuggling, marijuana and meth selling and just general acts of physical assault. As well as they make their own (illegal) brands of Poison!

Despite on how the Hend’s seem like a much better option than the Farefell’s…. They really aren’t. But hey if a citizen looks at the Hend’s and think “wow they aren’t nearly as bad as those Farefell’s.” Congrats! You fell for it.

The Hends keep a MUCH cleaner public image in comparison. Which benefits them greatly in the long run!

While the Farefell family would shoot or stab you, The Hends is… personal. Real personal beat downs and other forms of torment. Personal assassinations over petty grudges or meaningless minor things, it doesn’t really matter.

ON A BRIGHTER NOTE:

The Hends are very big on family! Family family family! The members of the Hend family tend to be extremely close knit together. Lots of large bonfires or BBQs or what have you, everyone always going out to drink at a bar where everyone knows each other.

The Primary Hend family ranch is actually the host of many of Jarbline Cities Events! Goddess prefers to be seen in a more positive light to The Mayor, despite her personal feelings towards them.

It’s a good look! The Hends always offering to host events or charities or this or that… it looks really good to everyone else. This again, benefits them greatly. Especially since it keeps The Mayor, more or less out of their business. The Mayor won’t look into things or is more willing to turn a blind eye because awww it’s the Hend family!! How sweet! Remember that event they heldv

Etc etc.

The Current leader of the Hend family is Goddess. Unfortunately her time is nearing completion as the Rings Leader… so she has chosen Dysnomia to be her replacement.

Which is a unusual thing to do, as stated previously, the Hend family usually stays within the bloodline. So Goddess choosing someone outside of that is.. odd.. or well. Odd to anyone who pays attention to Ring Patterns… which most don’t. To everyone else, Dysnomia is a great choice! Time will tell if it’s the correct answer

ANYWAYS IVE PRATTLED NONSENSICAL LONG ENOUGH there is some Bare Basics™️

Does my little dance and shuffles away

[shitty-fallout-art]

It's been 87 years....

-Presiding over his achievements with an iron fist and an eye for revenge, Washington is the acting mayor over the newly established colony of Goodneighbor.

-His story is much the same as Hancock's: he was originally a citizen of Diamond city and failed to stop his brother's political campaign to ostracize the city's ghoul populace. Succumbing to depression for his failure he left to live in the slums of Goodneighbor, idly watching the little settlement tear itself apart under the harsh leadership of vic, afraid of intervention and indulging in heavy chem usage without a care for his own self-preservation.

-Only, instead of coming upon the clothing of John Hancock, it was the clothes of George Washington that he found himself in front of after his binge.

-He felt...insignificant in its presence, ashamed of his own inadequacy and embittered at the corruption he saw around him. No matter what he had or where he had gone, he saw how easily people were mislead, how afraid they were to act on their own judgement, and it sickened him to think of how Washington would feel if he saw his country now.

-This was the key difference between Washington and Hancock. Hancock never stopped believing in the better judgement of the people around him, of the power of the populace as a whole and the will of the individual to act.

-Washington, on the other hand, gave up that rule of thinking after witnessing the failed revolution of Goodneighbor, and so he came to believe that if the people would blindly follow their leader, then he would give them one that was actually worth their time.

-So, he donned himself in the clothes of Washington, quit chem entirely, and modeled himself into a character that he was sure was going to be different from all the rest. He would be strong, and wise, and unyeilding, just as Washington was, and he would fight for something better lead the people as they should be led.

-So, he organized the revolution of Goodneighbor and overthrew vic, all under his command and with the notion that he would take a position of power over the community in his stead. All of it went off without a hitch, particularly due to his ruthless ambition and unflinching assertiveness, showing those around him just how unstoppable and powerful he was.

-But Goodneighbor was not a settlement that he was proud to lead at first. It was a filthy slum of addicts and mercenaries, too deep in the ruins of boston to be self-sustaining and relying on chem export to survive. Under his leadership, he had the populace relocated to the square of Swann's pond, providing many job opportunities for the development and cleanup of the area while also cementing his position of power after publicly saying the behemoth. The citizens were quick to fall into line with his new laws and regulations, and those who left were quickly replaced by people who respected and understood the stability his rule offered.

-Newneighbor, as it was called, slowly became a precious jewel that Washington could finally call an accomplishment, and as the story is told, he is known throughout as a strict, but knowing figurehead.

-Which...sounds nice and all, when you put it that way. But the funny thing about corruption is that it often happens so gradually, that the people responsible hardly notice the changes themselves.

-Unlike Hancock, Washington took a sort of "tough love" approach to his role, taking his theory that people were far too ignorant and perceptible and turning it into a belittling belief that most citizens had no idea what was really best for them. And if they could not grasp that themselves, then he had no problems with reminding them of their social standing and mistakes.

-With the commonwealth being as unforgiving as it is, he took it upon himself to be just as unforgiving, and he what he could not get through inspiration and respect, he gained through fear and intimidation. He worked the populace hard, kept his rules strict and his guard in line, and would not tolerate any question to his method or character.

-After building up Newneighbor into a stable colony with many thriving industries bringing income into the community, he indulged in the luxuries afforded to his position, the older populace often whispering that it came as a substitution to the chem usage he used to indulge in himself.

-Overtime, he became much of what he had initially hated in Guy, but was blind to the notion that his community was suffering under a harsh and difficult environment under his command. He thoroughly believes that difficult hardships provide greater reward once overcome, and those who cannot win in the end are simply not trying hard enough.

-The easiest way to describe his personality is: formal, hypocritical, and brash. In modealing himself into a person he believed he could be proud of, he took much of that into how he held and presented himself, forgoing much of his easy-going nature in favor of a strict professionalism. He is often imposing himself unto others by way of judgment or command, though also taking many responsibilities unto himself as well.

-He is insecure about becoming a ghoul, believing it to be a sort of divine punishment for his previous actions in Diamond city and holding a self-prejudice towards himself and his condition. He refuses to be seen without his wig, and he is very strict as to how ghouls are treated and referred to within his community.

-He is sensitive about his previous vices, often still craving chems or suffering the effects of his older usage, but all behind closed doors, and all while publicly throwing most chem users under the bus in the process.

-He keeps tabs on Diamond city, but most people do not know why.

[eretzyisrael]

by Phyllis Chesler

The day after the pogrom, Amsterdam Mayor Femke Halsema did not call the rioters Islamists, Muslims or Moroccans … she referred to them as “scooter youths” as they rode mopeds to commit their crimes. This “Jew hunt” was not perpetrated by Christian Caucasians as in the past. This time, it was pre-planned and apparently carried out by Holland’s Muslims, some of whom are likely second- or third-generation citizens. How can Holland deport those found guilty of perpetrating a pogrom on Jewish civilians if the perps are Dutch citizens? Can the Dutch, both Muslim and non-Arab, be de-programmed? Probably not, at least not without a major, overwhelming, mandatory re-education plan. In their works, prescient French novelist Jean Raspail and scholar Bat Ye’or, an Egyptian-Swiss woman whose real name is Gisèle Littman, predicted the coming of “Eurabia” and the downfall of Western civilization. So did writers like Andrew Bostom, Oriana Fallaci, Richard Landes, Bernard Lewis, Douglas Murray, Robert Spencer and Ibn Warraq, with some pointing to instances in Europe of so-called “no-go” zones in areas with significant Muslim populations and little police oversight, sexual assaults of women some call “infidels,” honor killings and a refusal to assimilate. Let’s not forget the assassination in 2004 of Dutch filmmaker Theo Van Gogh by Moroccan-Dutch Islamist Mohamed Bouyeri, who was born in Holland and whose hit list included Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a Somali-born Dutch parliamentarian. He stabbed a five-page note into Van Gogh’s body, which he addressed to Ali, who he called a “heretic” and a willing collaborator of “Zionists and Crusaders.” Bouyeri believed that a “Jewish cabal” controlled Holland. Despite such warning signs, those who spoke against the rise of Islamic extremists were called “Islamophobes,” racists, fear-mongers and conspiracy theorists. De Winter wrote that the violence that took place overnight Nov. 7-8 “emerged from deep-seated, historically entrenched antisemitism.” He also noted that “Moroccan youth have participated in weekly anti-Zionist demonstrations through the streets of Amsterdam.”

The attackers in Amsterdam did not paraglide into the city as Hamas did, but many were on scooters. De Winter believes that these Muslims are “collectively humiliated” by the Dutch “indifference” to their religion and by the “infidel” demands placed upon them to assimilate. What next? Well, according to Dutch journalist and editor Esther Voet, the day after the “Jew hunt,” an Israeli TV crew was trying to broadcast a report from Dam Square in Amsterdam and was confronted by pro-Palestinian protesters. “They called for police protection to return to their hotels. The police refused.”

With the protesters behind last week’s pogrom still on the streets, we will likely see more pogroms in Holland and other parts of Europe. Will the police in those cases respond in a more timely fashion than the Dutch police did?

[mightyflamethrower]

The diversity, equity, and inclusion project, often seen as a major element of the so-called “woke” creed along with green fanaticism, keeps popping up as a possible subtext in a variety of recent tragedies.

In the case of the Los Angeles fires, Mayor Karen Bass, who cut the fire department budget, was warned of the mounting fire dangers of the Santa Anna winds and parched brush on surrounding hillsides. No matter—she junketed in Uganda. When furor followed, on cue, her defenders decried a racialist attack on “a black woman.”

Her possible stand-in deputy mayor for “security” was under suspension for allegations that he called in a bomb threat to the Los Angeles city council—a factor mysteriously forgotten.

The fire chief previously was on record mostly for highlighting her DEI agendas rather than emphasizing traditional fire department criteria like response time or keeping fire vehicles running and out of the shop.

One of her deputies had boasted that in emergencies, citizens appreciated most of all that arriving first responders looked like them. (But most people in need worry only whether the first responders seem to know what they are doing.) She further snarked that if women allegedly were not physically able to carry out a man in times of danger, then it was the man’s fault for being in the wrong place.

The Los Angeles water and power czar—culpable for a needlessly dry reservoir that could have provided 117 million gallons to help save Pacific Palisades—was once touted primarily as the first Latina to run such a vital agency. But did that fact matter much to the 18 million people whose very survival depended on deliverable water in the otherwise desert tinderbox of greater Los Angeles?

In all these cases, the point is not necessarily whether the key players who might have prevented the destruction of some 25,000 acres of Los Angeles were selected—or exempted—on the basis of their race, gender, or sexual orientation.

Rather the worry is that in all these cases, those with responsibility for keeping Los Angeles viable, themselves eagerly self-identified first by their race, gender, or sexual orientation—as if this fact alone was synonymous with competence and deference.

In fact, racial or sex identity has nothing to do with whether a water and power director grasped the dangers of a bone-dry but vital reservoir; whether the fire department must know how many fire hydrants remain in working order; or whether a mayor understood that in times of existential danger she must stay on the job and not fly on an optional junket to Africa.

As of yet, we have no idea exactly all the mishaps that caused a horrific air crash at Reagan Airport in Washington. The only clear consensus that has emerged is that the horrific deaths could have been easily preventable—but were not because, in perfect storm fashion, there were multiple system failures. In that sense, both the Los Angeles and Washington, DC, disasters are alike.

When a military helicopter crashes into a passenger jet in Washington, DC, airspace—an area that has not seen such a disaster for 43 years—the likely cause is either wrongly altered protocols or clear human error, or both.

So, it is vital to discover what the causes of the disaster were to prevent such a recurrence. As in the Los Angeles cataclysm, the role of DEI—the method of hiring regulatory agency administrators, air traffic controllers, or pilots on bases other than meritocracy—becomes a legitimate inquiry.

To dispel such worries, authorities must disclose all the facts as they do when there are no controversies over DEI. Yet we never learned the name of the Capitol police officer who fatally shot unarmed Ashli Babbitt for months, nor received evidence of his spotty service record. The same initial hesitation in releasing information marked news about the ship that hit the Francis Scott Bridge near Baltimore and why traffic barriers were not up in the French Quarter before the recent terrorist attack in New Orleans.

In the Washington, DC, crash, two questions arise about the conduct of pilots, air traffic controllers, and the administrators responsible for hiring, staffing, and evaluating such employees.

The first issue is whether hiring, retention, and promotion in the airline industry or the military is not fully meritocratic.

That is, were personnel hired on the basis of their exhibited superior education, practical experience, and superb scores on relevant examinations in matters relating to air travel? Or were they instead passed over because of their race, gender, or sexual orientation?

Was the shortage of controllers a direct result not of an unqualified pool of applicants but rather because of racial restrictions place upon it to reduce its size?

Second, were the promoters of DEI confident that they could argue that “diversity, equity, and inclusion” were as important criteria for the operation of a complex aircraft system as the past traditional criteria that had qualified air traffic controllers, pilots, and administrators?

Not only did DEI considerations often supersede past traditional meritocratic requirements for employment, but DEI champions had also argued that “diversity” was either as important to, or more important than, traditional hiring and retention evaluations.

The answers to these first two questions make it incumbent to ask further whether DEI played a role in the Washington, D.C., crash, similar to how it may have in the Los Angeles wildfires.

It is not racist, sexist, or homophobic to ask such legitimate questions, especially because advocates themselves so often give more attention and emphasis to their race, gender, and sexual orientation than their assumed impressive expertise, proven experience, and superior education. In other words, had one’s race, sex, or orientation been incidental to employment rather than essential, such questions from the public might never have arisen.

Finally, what are the problems with DEI that have not just lost its support but put fear into the public that, like the Russian commissar system of old, it has the potential to undermine the very sinews of a sophisticated, complex society?

DEI is an ideology or a protocol that supersedes disinterred evaluation. In that regard, ironically, it is akin to the era of Jim Crow, when talented individuals were irrationally barred from consideration due to their mere skin color. Like any system that prioritizes identity over merit—whether Marist-Leninist credentials in the old Soviet Union or tribal bias in the contemporary Middle East—a complex society that embraces tribalism inevitably begins to become dysfunctional.

DEI does not end at hiring. Rather, once a candidate senses he is employed on the basis of his race, sex, or sexual orientation, then it is natural he must assume such preferences are tenured throughout his career. Thus, he will always be judged by the same criterion that led to his hiring. In other words, DEI is a lifetime contractual agreement, an insurance policy of sorts once DEI credentials are established as preeminent over all others.

The advocates of DEI rarely confess that meritocratic criteria have been superseded by considerations of diversity, equity, and inclusion. Instead, to the degree that they claim such criteria are not at odds with meritocracy, they argue that the methods of assessing talent and performance are themselves flawed. Tests then are unsound and systemically biased and therefore largely irrelevant. Few DEI advocates make the argument that diversity is so important that it justifies lowering the traditional standards of competence.

Once DEI tribal protocols are established, they are calcified and unchanged. That is when supposed DEI demographics are overrepresented in particular fields such as the postal service or professional sports, then such “disproportionality” is justified on “reparatory” grounds or ironically on merit. If other non-DEI groups, by DEI’s own standards, are deprived of “equity” and “inclusion” or “underrepresented,” it is irrelevant. DEI is, again, a lifetime concession, regardless of changes in status, income, or privilege. An Oprah Winfrey or a Barack Obama—two of the most privileged people on the planet—by virtue of their race, at least as it is defined in the Western world—are permanently deserving of deference.

DEI is also ossified in the sense that it makes no allowance for class. Asian Americans, when convenient, can be counted as DEI hires even though, in terms of per capita income, most Asian groups do better than so-called whites. Under DEI, the children of elites like Barack Obama or Hakim Jeffries will always be in need of reparatory consideration but not so the children of those in East Palestine, Ohio.

Because DEI is an ideology, a faith-based creed, it does not rely on logic and is thus exempt from charges of irrationality, inconsistency, and hypocrisy. The belief system feels no obligation to defend itself from rational arguments. For example, are not racially separate graduations or safe spaces contrary to the corpus of civil rights legislation of the 1960s? There is no such thing as DEI irony: the system contrived to supposedly remedy the de jure racism of some 60-70 years ago itself hinges on de jure racial fixations as the remedy—now, tomorrow, forever.

As in all monolithic dogmas such as Sovietism or Maoism, skeptics, critics, and apostates cannot be tolerated. So, in the case of DEI, logical criticism is preemptively aborted by boilerplate charges of racism, sexism, and homophobia. And the mere accusation is synonymous with conviction, thereby establishing DEI deterrence, under which no one dares to risk cancellation, de-platforming, ostracism, or career suicide by questioning the faith.

DEI is also incoherent. It is essentially a reversion to tribalism in which solidarity is predicated on shared race, sex, or sexual orientation, not through individual background, particular economic status, or one’s unique character. No DEI czar knows why in the pre-Obama era, East Asians did not qualify for DEI status, though they seem to now, or when and how the transgendered were suddenly not statistically still traditionally .01 percent of the population but, in some campus surveys, magically became 10-20 percent of polled undergraduates. No one understands what percentage of one’s DNA qualifies for DEI status, only that any system of the past that fixated on ascertaining racial essentialism, such as the one-drop rule of the old South or the multiplicity of racial categories in the former South Africa, or the yellow-star evil of the Third Reich, largely imploded, in part by the weight of its own absurd amorality.

DEI never explains the exact individual bereavement that justifies preferentiality. All claims are instead collective. And they are encased in the amber of slavery, Jim Crow, or homophobia or sexism of decades past. Social progress does not exist; the malady is eternal. The candidate for DEI consideration never must ascertain how, when, or where he was subject to serious discrimination or bias. And that may explain all the needed prefix adjectives that have sprouted up to prove these -isms and -ologies exist when they otherwise cannot be detected, such as “systemic,” “implicit,” “insidious,” or “structural” racism rather than just “racism.”

DEI never envisions its demise or what follows from it, much less whether there are superior ways to achieve equality of opportunity rather than mandated results. The beneficiaries of DEI seldom ponder its efficacy, much less whether resources would be better allotted to K-12 education during the critical years of development. And they certainly show little concern about those often poorer and more underprivileged who lack the prescribed race, gender, or orientation for special DEI considerations.

In sum, because of these inconsistencies, Donald Trump may well be able to end DEI with a wave of an executive order—simply because its foundations were always built of sand and thus any bold push would knock over the entire shaky edifice.

[partisan-by-default]

Donald Trump’s border czar appeared on CNN Tuesday complaining that Chicagoans were too knowledgeable of their basic rights.

“Sanctuary citizens are making it very difficult to arrest the criminals. For instance, Chicago, very well-educated. They’ve been educated how to defy ICE, how to hide from ICE. I’ve seen many pamphlets from many NGOs: ‘Here’s how you escape ICE from arresting you’; ‘Here’s what you need to do.’ They call it ‘Know Your Rights.’ I call it ‘How to escape arrest.’”

Homan is referring to the city’s Know Your Rights campaign, launched by Mayor Brandon Johnson. The program seeks to “ensure residents of Chicago know their rights in the event of being stopped and detained by federal immigration agents.” The information is posted on video screens throughout the city’s public transit system.

The immigration czar is spearheading efforts to carry out Trump’s mass deportation plans, which have hit major cities like Chicago, Miami, Atlanta, and New York.

[gwydionmisha]

US military to send additional 1,500 troops to border

It is illegal for them to detain anyone or help in detention. Some of this is optics, but there is a real slippery slope feel to it. Since SCOTUS abolished rule of law and laws no longer constrain the president, I don't like or trust this.

After all Hegseth has promised to purge any generals with ethics and they confirmed him with Vance breaking the tie. Generals with ethics were what constrained Trump from turning the military loose on peaceful protesters last time he tried to do it.

I was always against raids and the general shittiness of our immigration/CBP militarized system even before I heard the story I'm going to tell here. This has haunted my since the early '90's when a prof told it to me.

So she and her husband are Native Americans, with four tribes between them. The tribes were all Northern plains ones. I can't remember which of them was Lakota, but they were enrolled members of different tribes. As indigenous to the United States as it's possible to be.

So they get jobs teaching down in L.A. and one day, the husband is taking a bus home and the bus gets raided and he has no proof of citizenship on him just normal ID, so they are going to deport him to Mexico even though he speaks no Spanish and his Ancestors have been here since they walked over the land bridge.

She had to rush home and dig through the moving boxes, trying to find all his documentation and she manages to rescue him and bring him home. It was terrifying. They didn't know that they could be deported for looking native to the country in which they and their ancestors had always lived. They started looking for jobs in the North right away.

I've been thinking about it multiple times a day all year. I assumed it would start happening in large amounts as soon as the "mass deportation" sweeps started, that they'd try to deport Native Americans and natural born citizens. Likely even on purpose as they were saying that was what they were going to do since at least the election.

Quakers sue to keep US immigration agents out of houses of worship

[sugarviv]

My take on the Paris Special’s alternate universe (pt. 1 of many concepts explained)

Keep in mind that I am not a writer- more an idea person. I don’t imagine anything I come up with will be even close to canon. With that said, let’s start with the Backstory:

The origin story begins not with the universe we see, but instead with a world where everything is normal… Except

Gabriel allows Colt to use the Peacock Miraculous so that Amile can have a child. Instead of responding is complete disgust however, Colt takes an interest and decides to try and research about the miraculous…

Somehow, he manages to learn what he needs to, and summons Gimmi to make the ultimate wish… To be given supreme power over anyone and everyone. After all, the price that would take would only serve to keep himself in power

Things play out as we see they do in that universe at that point: Gabriel steals the Moth and Peacock miraculouses (miraculi?🤔), Colt kills Emile for using the power of the peacock again, mostly due to a proud anger he’s had since the first time she had Adrien, and Gabriel goes into hiding to start the resistance.

The difference now is that Colt knows of Gabriel’s identity… that’s exactly why he decides to give his only son the Cat Miraculous. So he can be forced to watch this universe’s Adrien unknowingly destroy himself (along with knowingly destroying Paris ☝️😌)

Now… here’s a few quick design ideas for other characters.

Felix and Kagami, both being Sentibeings, work for the Supreme as Morals Officers (not sure how else to call them). They’re both constantly on the clock, patrolling the city, keeping the citizens in line, and overall trying to dissuade any kind of rebellion.

They act in sort of a Good cop/Bad cop routine, and are so overworked and under so much pressure that they have no time to be themselves or even know themselves.

Although Chloe’s father is still the mayor, Laws work differently under the Supreme’s rule. Andre was made to send Chloe to live elsewhere if he wanted to be given a position of political power, which lead to Chloe living with her friend Sabrina.

Chloe is a typical mean girl, lashing out at others and being petty, but this is all due to insecurity and (pretty trope-y) stuff.. She did grow up with her father though, and through her emotionally (and literally) absent mother, got to grow up with Adrien and even star as a model for many of Gabriel’s more youthful and feminine designs. She considers Adrien to be almost like a brother to her, even though she doesn’t see him much after his mother died.

I,,, honestly don’t have much for Luka 🧍 He’s mostly just potential right now- Potential to become a part of the resistance AND potential to be used by the Supreme and harness a miraculous. Luka is a good bit more cynical compared to his show counterpart, and struggles with serious abandonment issues after not only his dad abandoning him as a baby, but his twin sister Juleka seemingly vanishing as well (she became a miraculous holder- I’ll design her eventually if y’all want 😊)