#how to say mother but for someone who is the youngest on the grid

[saamaton]

waittt i only just now realized oscar is the first f1 race winner born in the 2000s.. okay baby goat

[dreamauri]

‧˚⊹ 𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ଓ :: 𝗠𝗩𝟭 ‧₊˚⤾

you are reading :: part five !!

╭╯ pairing . . . max verstappen x fem! driver! oc! ) ┊ summary . . . its over, its all over ) ┊ genre . . . angst) ╰╮ warning . . . illusions of mental breakdown, bad mothering [sorry lei], lil sad )

☆★ finally getting to the good part :') kind of a filler, sorry ━━━━

( fic masterlist | general masterlist ) ( requests ) ( taglist )

MEDIA DAY Saturday July 27 2023 — Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium

A-Z WINNERS

"This should be quiet fun considering I have no life outside of racing." You joked, putting your hands on your hips. "Is there a time limit, yes? Great."

"OK, A for Alonso. Duh. B, for Jenson button. C is for c*nt." You said with a straight face making several people around the room laugh. You couldn't help the smile the creeped on your face.

"Wait. Who has a name that starts with C? . . . Caucasian man. Thats who- OH MY GOD CLARK! I forgot." You chuckled moving on. "What comes after C? A, b, c, d! D stands for d*ck.  E stands forrrrr-"

"G, would've been nice to say my mom's name but she was slow." You joked wiping your face giggling. "Gasly."

"K, . . . Who? Hint?" "Three on the grid." "There's three on the grid? What the— ME! FUCK! thats me." You laughed face palming, falling on the floor laughing your ass off. "Leon Kraus, Ashton Kraus, Felix Kraus, Alexander Kraus, Fritz Kraus, Y/N Kraus and of course Killian Kraus . . . Killian those bitches . . . I think he's getting married actually." "He already did." "Oh yeahhhhhh." "He's got a kid." "No." You gaped at her, jaw on the floor. "When was this? I'm an aunt? No body told me."

"You're the only one who didn't get it right away." "Oh nooooo."

"S issssss, who's name starts with s. Give me a hint." "On the grid" "who?- Oh! SAINZ!" You smiled brightly giggling. "Oh shit, I could've said Schumacher, sorry. Two Schumackers, no?"

"V, Verstappen but we know which one. Maximus of course."

YOUNGEST TO OLDEST

"Dinosaur." You slapped Fernando's on the top of the board. "He was born 2 seconds ago— he wasn't even born yet." You joked slipping Meike's name on the bottom of the board.

A giggle came from your mouth as you looked at the board, you had only two names down from the 20 drivers you were supposed to rank from age. "I won." You decided nodding, a few laughs came from around making you relax and smile.

"I'm here." You placed your name above Meike. "And he's old as fuck." You placed Killian name under Fernando. "And him, I don't even know. He looks like he could be a dilf, but acts like he's three three." You places Max's name in the middle, with Lewis above and Lando below.

"He . . . Danny phanton is like three mentally, you can't convince me other wise." You chuckled placing his magnet above Max's. " . . . I- I know Magnussen has a daughter no?" "Two." "He has two daughters? Wow. Good luck with that. May the odds forever be in your favor."

"How good is that?" "Very good." The interviewer chuckled making you laugh." "You've got the bottom half right." You hid your face leaning down laughing. "Good enough, no?" You giggled watching someone take away the board and place a flip board instead.

WHO SAID THAT

"Oh no. What is this?" You flipped the first page, looking at the written text. "You have to guess who said that." "Not easy peasy lemon squeezy." You stretched you arms clearing your throat.

"Not me." You put a thumbs up smiling. "Is that a point? . . . Oh come on." You whined trying to think.

SURPRIZE

"Oooh, what's this?" You take the plaque handed to you. "Oh that's khofo." You turned board, pointing at the sfinx. "He looks way prettier in person." You chuckled, looking back at the photograph you admired the other famous landmarks and views from your home.

"Am I supposed to name all of these places? I haven't been that much around. Just luxor and delta." You chuckling looking confused. "Not Cairo or Giza?" You shook your head.

"You can see them next year then, when F1 goes to Egypt." You could feel yourself starting to smile as you looked at her unsurly. "What are you talking about?" You chuckled looking around the room confused. "I don't- wait no. You're not serious." You dropped your hands, jaw falling.

"Your joking." Your ran your hands through your hair. You could feel a wave of excitement rush through you as you jumped in your spot happily, fangirling. "We're going home! Yes yes yes!" You cheered throwing your fist up giggling happily.

"Oh my God. My family can come watch me." You covered your mouth as the idea dawned on you. "Oh my God. Yes yes yes yes! Yesss!"

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

f1

f1 BREAKING: Red Bull will no longer have a second driver for the remaining races this season. oh no 🫣

user YES YES YES YES

user am i dreaming? GOD HAS BLESSED US

user about time

user fucking finally, she was making it a shit show

user am i the only one in the comments here to complain about this? this is not fair ↳ user bro no one gives q fuck. Shut up and eat ↳ user she was so annoying etf you complaining about? ↳ user yeah the only good thing about her is her looks

user bye bye, dont come back. we're not going to miss you ❤️

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Lei— okay." Max pulled the tween up on his lap, continuing with his stream while she laid on his chest quietly. "Mate! You still have her?!" "She's my good luck charm." Max smiled weakly patting the girls back.

That wasn't the reason Leila was still with Max though. Max kept one if his hands free at all time, patting the French-Egyptian's back or stroking her hair to give her the most amount of comfort he can offer.

Max could feel Leila's hug tighten every few minutes and it made his heart ache. She's going through too much and she's just a child.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A jingle came from the carton box as you practically threw it on the floor next to the front door. Your shoes were kicked off and your travel bags flopped on the ceramic as you trudged into your home.

It was too quiet for your liking. And with the prime summer heat, you felt like you were going to melt.

Dings started to sound from your phone as soon as it connected to the wifi, and you could already hear the comments and posts, the tweets, the videos, articles, the memes, the drawings, you could hear of people making fun of you. It was buzzing in your ears. And you couldn't get it out of your head.

And in a moment of rage you threw your phone into down the hall, through the dinner table and salon, across the living room. SMASH. It wasn't going to bother you anymore. You dragged yourself upstairs, pulling the door to your room shut.

"Your tense." "OH WOW! I COULDNT TELL!" You turned to face your uncle's figure, tears welling up in your eyes as your hands visibly started to shake. "I have been working my ASS OFF. I PUT MY WHOLE LIFE INTO THAT GOD DAMN SPORT. I PUT YOUR TIME AND YOUR MONEY INTO THIS WASTE." You shouted, turning around your fist meeting the body mirror, panting heavily.

"Relax, nunu." "How can I relax?!" You turned into Marawan's body, hugging him tightly. "It's over. No one is going to want me now." Sobs escaped your mouth as you felt him softly brushing his fingers through your hair.

"Y/N— " "I'm just a stupid girl. I should've never even tried." "That's not true." "It is. I wasted my time. My effort. My childhood. My life!"

You collapsed on your knees struggling to wipe your vision clear. "What am I doing with my life?" You cried to no one, gripping your hair as you emptied your feelings on the ground.

"That's not true." You heard you mother assure, her cold hand gently caressing your back and she kneeled down beside you. "You made a friend, Max. You got closer with Leila. You baked, Y/N. When was the last time you baked? You took off your mask, how brave was that?"

"It wasn't on purpose." You muttered, chocking on your cries. "But you continued to be brave. You faced on your dad. You faced the world. And you raced with your brothers, you always wanted to do that."

"I raced against them. Not with them." You corrected her. "And it was Killian too. Your golden son crashed into me. And now I have a hole in my hip."

"You choose the sport, Y/N." You pushed her away before she could caress your head, turning away from her, hugging your knees. "No. You did."

"You're the one who got that stupid scholarship. You're the one who went to germany, met dad and married him. You're the one who got in that stupid car. You're the one who smoked. You're the one who put all your expectations, gave me all your dreams to complete. You're the one who died."

"And I was such a bad daughter." You sobbed to yourself. "I couldn't complete your wish. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Leila is going to live with that stupid woman—"

"Your mom's here." Leila shook her head wrapping her little arms around Max's neck. "No." She held him tighter. "I stay with Max." She begged in the little English she learned. "Yallah." The older woman pulled the tween from his wrist dragging her away. "Stop being a pain in my ass. Let's go."

"Red bull is going to lose a lot of points—"

Max was carrying the whole team on his back, struggling to stay in p2 and p3 through the races with the other teams taking his broken defence to their advantage.

"All because of me."

You cried in the dusty pink room alone. All alone.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2007 — El GAMAZI ESTATE, FRANCE

"Killian? Sho bete3mel hena?" [what are you doing here] The rain soaked boy looked like a deer caught in headlights. He could only shrug, he himself confused qbout his where abouts. "Ana . . ." [i] He sighed shakily, pulling his late mother's helmet from his back pack.

Tears started to well up in his eyes, as he held out the ancient egyptian themed hear protection. "It belongs with the El-Gamazis." He sniffed wiping his eyes. "Mom would have wanted you to have it."

"Oh Killian." The boy was pulled into the household, wrapped in a towel and given hot chocolate, the helmet by his side. "Nunu maogoda?" [is nunu here] He asked quietly watching his grandparents and uncle rush around the room.

"Meen? 'Nubis? Betsou2 barah." [who? 'nubis? she's driving outside] 'but it's raining outside' he furrowed his eyes looking out the window. There you were indeed, perfecting your driving skills in your new kart, probably freezing to death but to concentrated to know.

"I want Nunu to be at the track on Sunday for mama's moment of silence." Killian, took a hold of Marawan's shirt, stopping him in his tracks. "El 7ad? . . . Mashi. 7ader." [sunday? ok, we will be there]

( taglist ↳ @lorarri @benedikwonn @mycenterfold @ironmaiden1313 @iamahallucinationnn @hockeyboysarehot @tsnataly @iloveyou3000morgan @lpab @jetless @inas-thing @folklorelvrr @fdl305 @lifesuckslife @loveofmylife12 @chasing-liberosis @peachiicherries @lizzieolseniskinda @chelseyyouraverageluigi @michellekstyles

[the-badger-mole]

Jukebox fics: "In Love with Your Soul", The Collection -- A:TLA preferably

In Love with Your Soul The Collection

This is going to be a pretty long synopsis, but I think this would end up being a pretty good sized story. After 25 years of marriage, Katara and Zuko find themselves adrift after their youngest leaves home for good. Two decades of parenting and building careers, they feel as if they are living with a stranger. Katara, only 49, still feels like there's more of life to experience. Zuko, on the other hand, is looking forward to his settled 50s. As they navigate their new normal, their drifting begins pulling them away from each other. Zuko is intimidated by the new friends his wife is making, while Katara is terrified that her once quietly passionate husband is becoming an old man before his time.

It all comes to a head when Katara is offered the chance of a lifetime to work in another country for a year. She's afraid to even bring it up to Zuko, but despite that, she starts making plans. It's mostly daydreaming at first. She looks up apartments, looks up the social life, and the local hotspots. She even contacts an old college friend who lives in the area, and makes plans to visit. The only problem is, this old friend is someone she used to date. Zuko sees Jet's name pop up in Katara's phone, and that coupled with how secretive she's been with her phone and computer leads him to the worst conclusion.

Without a word, he takes off, visiting places he and Katara used to love going to before work and family life consumed their couple life. He bounces between heartbroken rage and complete understanding as to why his vivacious wife might not find the prospect of being alone with him for another few decades tolerable. After a few days of being off the grid, he goes to a divorce lawyer, and at long last comes home with a separation agreement in hand. Katara, scared out of her mind and furious after not being able to reach her husband for days is shocked by the papers. That was not what she wanted, but then Zuko confronts her with his suspicions that she's having an affair, and declares he'd rather not have her than share her. That's when Katara comes clean about the job offer. She wasn't planning to take it, but she thought maybe she could at least convince Zuko to go travel with her to that country and explore a bit. She shows him the text messages, and her emails with her boss. She had asked for time to think, and time was winding down, but she assures Zuko that she knew how little he liked change, and moving to another country- even for a limited time- would be a massive change.

They have a long talk about their marriage and how disconnected from each other they feel, but in the end, they decided they're still in love enough to figure things out together. Then Zuko encourages her to take the position. As long as he's with her, he tells his wife, he'll feel at home.

And we will call this fic Our Rope is Braided

This song gave me very bittersweet, we've been together a long time, and our relationship has survived a lot (which is why I was a little confused when I saw someone say they wanted this song played at their wedding, but different interpretations for different folks). I wanted to come up with a concept that spoke to that. The thing is, I don't see Katara and Zuko having a ton of internal conflict in their relationship. I definitely don't think infidelity would be an issue. But what might be an issue is learning how to communicate after a massive change to their status quo. Katara's self-sacrificial nature would lead her to not talk about her goals and aspirations to her set-in-his-ways husband. Zuko might not know how to address his feelings of being left behind as Katara finds new social outlets, now that she's not a full time mother anymore, and this is what I came up with.

[unpredictablestuff]

Trying to figure out if I was autistic and ADHD made me think back to my childhood. First grade was something.

At some point my teacher decided I would be best served in someone else's classroom. (Report cards told my parents "he acts up when he's bored" into second grade. Mostly at lunchtime.).

I remember going back to her classroom two weeks after the change. I think it was before class started that day. She must asked me what I was doing there because I told her it had been two weeks and I was back. She told me no, the change was permanent.

Maybe the teachers told my mom they would try it for two weeks and see how it went, or maybe one of the teachers said it to another. What I think happened is it worked and they didn't think they needed to tell me they decided to stick with it. Because why would I think anything else?

I remember how the classroom looked when I went in that day. It was spartan. Bare. The chairs were upside-down on the desks. And the desks were in a precise grid pattern. The lights weren't all that bright. There wasn't a lot of color.

And that's the only memory I have of that classroom.

A few years ago as I was going through my old memories, my sister confirmed that that was what the classroom was like. She was a year ahead of me in school and had had the same teacher for first grade. I think all of my siblings had. She was miserable. She got into trouble for the smallest things, like turning around to talk to the girl behind her. She was able to manage herself, but it wasn't fun. I couldn't. So I got to escape.

It didn't hurt that I was the youngest of five and had siblings that made a good impression, or a mother teachers liked. Or that my teacher was acquainted with outside of school.

But it also didn't hurt that I was one of the cutest little blonde boys you'll ever meet. I can say that because it did not last.

My new first grade class was the opposite. There were kids lying on the floor reading. There was a book nook. My new teacher had me write a story, had a girl in the class illustrate it and then laminated it. She showed it off at the Open House night. I kept it until middle school, when the girl who illustrated it thought she should be able to have it for a while. (Sandy Cheesman, if you're out there it's my turn again.)

The only thing that I didn't like about the change was that I never got to go on the field trip to the dairy. My first class went there in the second semester after I'd left, and my second class had gone in the first. So unfair. The other kids talked about it for what seemed like years.

I had the best teacher ever in second grade. She was a first-year teacher or maybe a student teacher. She was barely older than my oldest sister, who I adored. She was young and energetic. She had a part in the play The Spirit of '76. She came to class once and did her song and dance for us. At the end she lifted up the back of her dress so we could see a colorful 76 on the back of her ruffled "panties."

She gave us gold stars if we did something really well, and she took those of us who got enough of them to a real sit-down restaurant. It was the first time in my life I'd been to one. My best friend was another one of the kids who got to go, and I doubt he'd ever been to a real restaurant either. I used to ride with him in the hollowed-out camper their parents hauled their 8 kids around in (better than the Volkswagen Rabbit one of my other friend's parents packed with their kids).

She told us we had to use our best manners. I remember being dropped off at her apartment. And being oh so careful to use my best manners at the restaurant. Even though I really didn't know what that meant.

She threw a 4th of July party for us after the school year was over. Instead of fireworks she popped popcorn with the lid off the popper. I remember how she looked afterwards when she said "I thought that would be more exciting." Then she gave us each a book to keep. I still have mine.

I also have the report cards she filled out. She's the one who said I acted up at lunch, but even then she was encouraging. She knew I was going to be able to be successful at school if I kept working at it.

And I was. By third grade I was managing my boredom by pulling my hair out when my teacher read monotone stories that were NOT how my dad read out loud and reminding the teacher that "beauty" has three vowels after she said words never have three vowels in a row.

I got better at school after that.

My sister, who had been stuck in the nightmare of my first first grade classroom had a completely different second grade teacher. "She made me feel bad about myself every day," she told me.

I am so sorry, sis.

[truamatized-kids-writes]

A New Home

Prologue This has been uploaded on a03 and yes we are the original writers  Dec. 13. 2021

“Well then, Tubbo, do you have everything we need?”

"I think? I've got food, beehive's nukes and a few other things we'll probably need"

“Yeah yeah, you and your goddamn Bee’s, where the hell is “Ranboo?”

"Last I'd seen he was on his way here? Maybe he got distracted or something?"

“Probably, fuckers distracted by anything and everything, we should probably go look for him if he doesn't show up in the next 12 minutes or something, god knows what could happen to him around here”

"That's true things have gone to shit at this point, besides we need to leave as soon as possible"

“Yeah no shit, all of L’manburg is gone at this point, Dream’s beyond insane, Ghostbur want’s to bring back fucking Wilbur, it’s a mystery what happens next”

"Yeah yeah I get it Cut the existential dread let's go look for Ranboo, and grab the jukebox and whatever things we've got left"

“Yeah yeah, shut it Bee boy I’m going, still can’t believe we’re actually going through with this though. Though it is to be expected at this point, we all know what happened last time we thought about this and didn’t actually do it”

"Then we still had something to actually work towards now let's go"

◦╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌𓂂꒰𖥸꒱𓂂╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌◦◦╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌𓂂꒰𖥸꒱𓂂╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌◦

Tommyinnit has died from lightning

Tubbo_ went out with a bang

Ranboo drowned trying to escape Elder Guardian

◦╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌𓂂꒰𖥸꒱𓂂╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌◦◦╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌𓂂꒰𖥸꒱𓂂╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌◦

The death of the three shook many and gave a slight moment of clarity for those taken by surprise. One of the first reactions was from Sam he seemed so lost and confused by the events that had taken place , he tried messaging the three Individually and with no answer he panicked looking into what's now L'mancrater ever so shook and lost, he was just getting to know the kids, what a week ago and now they're gone?

Silence ran through the air the second the death messages were sent out, a lone father, if you could even call him that anymore, stood on an obsidian grid, re-reading the message over and over again. Philza Minecraft, a man who once had Three sons, now left with one, now left to face the consequences of his actions. Phil knew none of the kids would be happy after what he had done, but he though it had to be done, he thought that the Smp could go back to being just an Smp without L’manburg, he didn’t think he’d be left to mourn with only one son left out of the three he once knew and loved.

Things were hushed as the large demi-god sheltered his father/mother from the explorations. When the chaos finished he frantically checked his communicator to see what damage had been done, the once was god of death(?) And reincarnation (?) was in tears. This wasn't meant to happen , he wasn't meant to lose them this soon. The messages of the three deaths sent anger, greif, and sadness throughout the demi-god causing him to shout out in frustration. The three boys he'd gotten so used to talking to, giving gifts, and seeing them sneak around his builds, gone all so suddenly with out a chance to say anything, it pissed him off, he'd lost a sibling and two close friends this day and he didn't intend to let their names go down in vain.

The mother, being protected by her son saw the messages, one among the first to see them just the look fo them brought her to tears. They couldn't be real, they just couldn't she thought as she read over the messages herself over and over frantically before it finally set in and brought her to hysterical sobs.They were gone.. She couldn't help them now, her bee loving son, his rowdy swearing friend, and the quiet forgetful boy they'd drag along with them. This small ragtag group of friends gone, she hoped begged even for her son Foolish to tell her it wasn't true, but she could see it the grief in his eyes, yet somehow she felt it her fault. She should've been there for the three, she should be been the one. Defending then this entire time, looking around this crater she knew what had come of the smp. With the three gone there would be no more scolding them to leave the kitchen as she made dinner or telling the three about the pirate adventures she remembered, there would be none of it. No more laughter from the kids. It broke her but she knew someone had to step up and at least be some sort of light or joy in this time of need, and that would be her, no matter how broken she was she'd do it.

Then, there was one person who could never seem to remember what had occurred on that day. The day of Doomsday, the ghost of the server known as Ghostbur had lost two brothers, and someone he was still getting to know. Once he received the news, blue started pouring from the poor ghost’s eyes, instantly becoming a dark royal blue the second it touched his ‘skin’.

Ghostbur may not be able to remember a lot about Tommy, but he and Alivebur really cared about him, the same goes for Tubbo and Ranboo. The ghost just held blue and cried for as long as he could before melting in the rain and waking up back in the sewer, forgetting everything that happened the day prior, along with the fact that the three youngest on the server were forever gone.

The girl with the flowers , when she saw the death messages she wasn't sure what to feel, glee, anger, sadness? She felt this odd moment of clarity, it was foggy but before she knew it she was crying , there weren't any words as she looked up to the rain, the tears and water mixing as she grinned, a look of both sadness and madness on her face as she choked on non-existent words. The thought of wanting to laugh and cackle at the three deaths crossed her, but so did the thought of standing there rain the rain grieving a shouting to the sky in anger and sadness crossed too. She felt so many mixed emotions that she didn't know what to do. While she wanted to grieve and hurt like everyone else she had left to care about, she just couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t shed a single tear that would mean anything, she was upset, so why couldn’t she show it?

The piglin up on the obsidian grid noticed his fathers sudden look of despair and checked his communicator, the deaths only two had a lasting impact on the piglin. Tommy , dead, it shook him, he expected something a little more dignified for the boy he called Thesus. His stone heart nearly split in two reading the message, why him? Sure he was annoying as all hell but the boy deserved greatness , glory, to be on the winning side of the battle for once. He wished to give it to him , but he couldn't any more. Tubbo's message hardly affected him , sure he was a kid but he also at one point was a government and had tried to execute him as well, there's no reason in worrying over someone you don't care about. Though the same couldn't be said for Ranboo. Ranboos death caught him off guard. He didn't know them too well but he was getting to know him, this kid despite how cold he was and how often he pushed them away came back, happily and even gave him a gift. A life lost is a life lost but this one he'd mourn just like Tommy's the two would most certainly get a memorial at the house of the blade,

Then, you had the one behind the chaos, the one who caused everything, the man, the myth, the legend, Dream. The one person left who felt nothing but pure glee, the one who wanted those damn kids gone from the beginning, Tommy being gone would be a bit of a setback, but it could be dealt with. Dream didn’t care as long as the other two were gone, However, Dream isn’t as naive, he isn’t one to believe so quickly. Dream knew those kids were not dead, they would never die, even if they did, Dream could just bring them back, there was no escaping him, no escaping the DreamSMP. Dream would make sure of it. Even if it hurt the people he, deep deep down, cared about.

[bssaz97]

RWBY Ancestries Chapter 5 Part 2 of 3

* Hello Everyone! I’m back with part 2 to the 3 part chapter 5. I’ll admit took me longer to write but that’s because I have been busy with work and didn’t have enough energy to fully finish this part. But here it is and hope you all enjoy!*

* Also to clarify because I completely forgot to explain how the dialect goes here’s a chart. So you all won’t be confused. *

Talking: Something.

Thinking: 'Something'

Telepathy: 'Something'

- Schnee Manor -

Jaqcues: Arthur! What are doing here?! Nevermind, that, why have you been not answering my attempts to contact you?!

Watts: Hmm? Oh yes! How rude of me. I have been noticing your attempts contact me but you see I’ve been preoccupied with other matters at the time. Such as making it to your lovely home. And as you see I had the trouble of bringing my colleagues along with me.

Jaqcues Schnee is honestly baffled by Arthur’s blunt explanation. He had been having a panic attack for a good two hours before he started his attempt to flee, and here comes the source of his unrest and what does he say?

Jaqcues: You mean to tell me you avoided all my calls today, just so you come to here to tell me you were busy with other matters?!

Watts: That would summarize what I just said yes. But enough about that, you see I need to ask a favor of you. You see my colleagues and I are in desperate need of shelter and transportation for the night. So because of our partnership I thought that, well, if you allow us to borrow one of your personal ships.

Jaqcues couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This man who had persuaded him to give him access Atlas’s Control grid in exchange for assurance that he would have been the victor of the election and to have Ironwood’s figurative head on a platter. Seemed like a worthwhile deal at the time. Now, Arthur assumes that he has him around his finger. Because of this, Jaqcues finally sees his fears are coming to fruition.

Jaqcues: You’re leaving. What’ve our previous arrangement, your promise of my victory against Hill and Ironwood.

Watts: Oh yes, well you see some pressing matters compel me away for the time being and well I cannot simply ignore it for the time being. Though I have not forgotten about our deal.

Jaqcues: Oh really now, and what assurance do I have to know you will keep your promise.

Watts: Well, on that matter it will need to be a matter of trust.

Jaqcues: Trust, how exactly do you expect me to trust you? Not only have you not yet fulfill your part of our agreement but you are also asking me if I could lend you a airship. If anything I’ve put more trust in your hands than you can assure me.

Watts: Jaqcues I just need this small favor and then you will have-

Jaqcues: NO!!! YOU’RE NOT GETTING ANYTHING MORE FROM ME! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I HAVE RISKED FOR YOU?! AND THEN YOU ASK ME FOR MY DAMN SHIP!! I’M TIRED OF YOUR DAMN PROMISES AND NEVER GETTING THE RESULTS I WANT! WELL GOOD SIR I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU WHEN YOU FIRST CAME TO ME! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE, TAKE YOUR FUCKING CHEAP PROMISES, AND FUCK OFF!!!

Jaqcues takes a few deep breaths to recompose himself, but damn did it feel good. Honestly, while he is normally never so vulgar he must admit after these past few days he feels he needs the stress relief. He looks to Arthur to see he has an unamused face, but he couldn’t care less about what this man cared about.

Watts: So...I assume that this means the end of our partnership then, yes?

Jaqcues: Oh gods sakes- YES! I’m ending our partnership!

Watts: Oh good, I just wanted to make sure. Tyrian if you’d please?

Jaqcues: 'Tyrian? Who’s- Wait where did that Faunus go-!' AAAGH!!

From behind him felt two arms wrapped around his mouth and torso in the span of a two seconds, then in less than one he felt the stinging sensation of a needle being stuck into his neck and feeling a injected dosage being sent into his body. In a matter of three seconds he feels light headed and has feeling of vertigo. He looks towards Arthur only to see in appear to move in slow motion. Then he feels the most disturbing thing he has ever felt in his whole life. The Faunus behind him exhaled a breath, what’s terrifying is that the breath seemed to sting like residue of burning Dust. And when he spoke it was like hearing a spectral phantom.

Tyrian: Oh what fun!~ It’s been awhile since I have seen Watts lose his nerve like that! Bet you feel special, don’t you.~

Jaqcues:MMFF! MMMMFFFF!

Tyrian: Ssssshhh. Don’t rush the moment.~ Saver it.~ My poison won’t kill you just yet, it’ll just make you experience everything at ten times more sensitivity. Oh how I wish this could go one for longer.~ But alas we are rushed on time so~!

Jaqcues: MMAAAAFFFF!!!

From behind Jaqcues, Tyrian unwrapped the arm around his torso, switching for his mechanical tail, and used one side of his bladed weapon to impale Jaqcues from the back. Without ever having his Aura unlocked, the blade finds no resistance in going through his abdomen. The blades, thanks to the poison, feel like they could have been chainsaws being stabbed through him at ten times the agony. It was a pain too much for the old man and in a matter of seconds to them, his eyes rolled into his skull and hangs his head limp, succumbing to his injuries.

Tyrian then looks behind the suit of the man just murdered and sees the pool of blood coating the prestigious white suit, and begins to cackle. His laughing is heard by his colleagues and besides Watts, who is unfazed by his antics, disturbed the two youths. While Emerald and Mercury were no strangers to killing, having to do so on occasions, the pleasure that Tyrian was getting from this was disturbing none the less. They haven’t found out until recently that the man was a infamous serial killer and that shocked them quite a bit. Eventually settles down his laughing and places the dead man on the floor.

Tyrian: Aaahhh!~ That was very savoring, out of all the victims I killed, I think that will stick with me the most. I mean who else can say that they killed someone as big as Jaqcues Schnee.

Watts: Yes, yes, you can celebrate your popularity later. We have pressing matters at hand.

Tyrian reluctantly does as Watts says and along with Mercury and Emerald, move pass Jaqcues Schnee’s dead body and make way to find where the ship garage is. Not knowing that they had a hidden witness watching their escape from the crime scene. Their watcher was none other than Willow Schnee, who was hidden around the corner of a room near the front door. She had a hand covering her mouth silencing any noise that they could hear and bore a haunted expression.

Originally, Willow came out here because through her camera system around her house, she saw her bastard of a husband strike her poor youngest child Whitley across the face and dared asked him to apologize for it. She had lived with the man’s neglect and mental abuse of herself and her children for many years, but never was she aware that the bastard was actually physically abusing her dear boy. Out of all things that man has done to this family, that is what broke the camels back. She was done, she was so done with this man’s abuse to her family. She was going to confront the man herself about this and see just how long had he been mistreating her children as such. But before that, those people came. They killed her husband and she could only watch hidden away from their sight. Now Willow could only feel shock but also despair. Why? Because now, all the years she had spent trying to keep her family safe from that man, were wasted. After finally finding something that could incriminate him enough to send Jaqcues away for good. The man is killed in her home. Which now means that everything, the evidence she held was null and void. For how can one incriminate a dead man.

Now those people are in her house, looking for a escape. But then she had a horrifying thought. What if they find anyone else in the house, more specifically her Whitley. She needed to find him before they do and get to safety. Who knows what these people will do to any of them if they find either of them. However, while she feels much complement to find her son, she feels as movable as a stone pillar. Had the assailants scared her to the point of fearing to move?

Willow: 'No...NO! I need to get to him before they do! Now is not the time to play frozen statue right now, your son needs you! ....my son.....my baby.....Who probably will want nothing to do with me. No! Don’t think like that, even if you had been the worst example of a mother you need to get to him! His life is not yet decided, you can save him! ....but I’m afraid....I don’t want to die....what can I do to save him if I can’t save myself....'

Willow can’t help but feel frozen in place. As much as she tries to move her will is to weak to make her move on her own. She looks down and in her right is a half full bottle of ‘Six Swans’ white wine. Willow recalls taking the bottle with her to give her courage to confront her husband and hasn’t let go of it since. She looks at herself, the daughter of Nicholas Schnee a renowned huntsman and founder of one of the biggest Dust company on Remnant, who is a foolish alcoholic who can’t even lift a finger to save one of her own children. She desperately wanted to I cry at her cowardice. For all the years she allowed that horrible man to ruin her own and her children’s lives. For being a failure to her father’s name. Why couldn’t she had been like him? Where did all of her courage go?

She looks towards a portrait of her father on the wall next to her, as if it was casting judgment on her she looks away in shame from her father’s gaze. Too ashamed to call herself a Schnee. What would he say if he saw her now?....Maybe a sip of her wine will numb her pain? Yes. Numb her and take her away. She brings the bottle close to her lips, just one sip couldn’t hurt.

...

Immediately she tore the bottle away from her face and turns away in disgust. What she been thinking? How could she possibly even think of getting drunk while her defenseless boy is alone at the mercy of these assailants. She looks towards her father’s portrait once more to see his eyes as if they were looking into her soul, disappointment clear in his lifeless face. She swallowed a very large lump in her throat, and not even looking at the bottle, she turned it and poured it’s contents on to the floor. She may have failed as a daughter and a mother, this she knew to be true. But she’ll be dammed before she’ll let her son suffer a worse fate than her. With one step forward, she moves towards the staircase and in the direction of Whitley’s room. She will not lose him, there’s still time. If she was a failure, so be it, but she will save her precious boy.

- Somewhere In Mantle -

Jaune: Auuuughh...

Jaune wakes up having a splitting headache, wondering had what happened. From what he recalled they were flying to face the Wyvern, he was hearing more of the same voice in this head. One the thought was imagining. But what happened after that. He opened his eyes to see he was in the deck, with all his teammates scattered about-!!!

Immediately Jaune refocuses and sees that he lying in a crashed airship. That was right they did crash, right after colliding with the Wyvern. It was coming back to him. He rose to his feet only to wince a moment later, but continues to stand. He surveyed the deck to see if his teammates are okay. He moves forward, using the wall as his support, he sees Ren being the closest to him and sees Nora right next to him. Huh, even in a airship crash and they still are inseparable.

Jaune: 'Not the time Jaune'

He moves his gaze past the two and sees his youngest teammate... With blood on his forehead! He immediately moves to the boy’s side and shakes his shoulder gently but urgently. He knows that since Ozpin no longer aiding Oscar in his training, he still doesn’t know how to manage his Aura’s protective abilities.

Jaune: Oscar! Oscar can you hear me, please you got to get up!

Oscar: Uuugghh... Was’ that. Jaune is that you- Agh! My leg hurts! What’s going on?

Jaune: Turns out our plan didn’t go as smoothly as we thought buddy, we got hit by that Wyvern pretty hard. Hang on, let me heal you you’re pretty banged up.

Oscar: Wait shouldn’t you save your Aura, I know you’ve been training it but healing somebody else’s still takes a lot out of you.

Jaune: Hey don’t you worry too much about me, from where I’m standing you are in some desperate need of healing. Besides I’m the leader here so I can pretty much order you to accept the healing.

As Jaune starts to amplify Oscar’s healing, both Ren and Nora starts to come to. They untangle from each other and noticed their two other teammates. Nora is immediately alarmed by Oscar’s critical condition.

Nora: Oh my gods, Oscar! Are you ok?! Oh I knew we should have had you in a secured seat!

Oscar: Nora! Don’t worry I’m ok. Jaune’s is healing my aura so I’ll live. Nothing fatal.

Jaune: Don’t think that’s gonna calm her down there buddy. (Noticing Nora’s still panicked state)

Nora: What happened? One minute we’re in the sky, now we’re grounded!

Jaune: The Wyvern is what happened. Turns out our plan didn’t work out, because it went back to flying to hit us again.... Oh my gods! Ruby and the others are still out there!

Jaune after done healing Oscar to the best of his ability, reaches his scroll and tried to contact Ruby, only to see that it was damaged during the crash.

Jaune: Damn it my scroll is damaged! Nora is your scroll working?

Nora: Let me see... Oh no mines busted too! And it’s the fancy new one too.~

Oscar: Wait... where’s Ren and the pilots?

Both take notice of their absent teammate and see that he has made his way to the cockpit.

Jaune: Keep an eye on Oscar for me a moment, I’ll check what Ren’s up to.

Nora:(Nods) You got it fearless leader. Don’t take too long, I’m kinda starting to feel claustrophobic in here.

Jaune moves towards the cockpit, using a small bit of his semblance to heal himself. While not at 100% he would gladly take anything if it meant he could help his team. As he reaches the cockpit Jaune does find Ren, right next to the pilots who look like they didn’t make it through the crash.

Jaune: Ren...are they?

Ren: Dead, both of them. Appear to have suffered from the impact of the crash.

Jaune closed his eyes in sadness, he knew Ren was somber over their deaths. These men were the same ones to fly them during their first mission when they came to Atlas and got their modifications. While not particularly close to either pilots, it was sad to see them suffer such a fate. He recalled trying to warn them of the danger but alas he couldn’t get there in time.

Jaune: Ren...I-

Ren: How did you know what was going to happen?

Jaune: Huh?

Ren:(Turns to face him) How did you know that the Wyvern was going to attack us? Because even I didn’t sense that before you apparently had.

Jaune:(Looks to the floor) I...don’t know.

Ren: How could you not know! Jaune I’m not blind, Nora and I could see that something has been bothering you since this mission started and you’ve been zoning out for instances at a time. I know it’s not sleep deprivation because I male sure you don’t wander into the night to....Look just tell me what’s going on, Jaune, I don’t want there to be anymore secrets that we have to keep to ourselves. Please.

Jaune: I....I can’t explain it exactly but I can try. It’s like I’m hearing something or someone trying talking to me but I can’t see them. I thought at first I was imagining it and blamed it on my nerves, but it persisted. I kept hearing them, and the weirdest part, I feel like a familiarity with the voice, but it’s of a person I have never met before. I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it would bring down the team but here we are. I’m sorry if it doesn’t make sense but that’s all I got.

Ren tried to process what his friend told him, given how bizarre it sounded. It sounds like someone or something was trying to contact him telepathically? Not too out there as there are different semblances in Remnant but they knew no one with such a ability. What’s worse is that Jaune doesn’t know who the person was. All in all while it doesn’t explain how he is able to hear such a voice, Ren could clearly see why such a thing would be bothering Jaune. It’s not everyday you have something talking into your head.

Ren: I’ll admit what you’ve said is strange, but not unsympathetic. I guess one would act strange if they heard someone talking to them in their mind. Sorry if I seemed too pushy on the matter.

Jaune: No you’re fine Ren, I guess I shouldn’t keep things like this to myself too often. Make myself crazy. But maybe let’s not explain this to Ironwood or Ace-Ops until we have a proper explanation for this. They may try to lock me up for being crazy.

Ren: You’re not crazy. Though I do agree that we should probably keep this incident close to the chest.

Jaune: Thanks Ren. Oh! Yeah, forgot do you have your scroll intact. The rest of ours are damaged by the crash.

Ren: I do. I’ve been trying to get in contact with Team RWBY but to no avail. However, I have been able to use the ships distress beacon to pinpoint the location of the other airships crash site. So hopefully we can find them.

Jaune: Ren, this is brilliant! I never knew you were so good with machines!

Ren: Well when you have been with someone who’s as hyper as Nora, you have a lot of time to get things done quickly.

Nora: I heard that mister!

Both winced at their fellow teammate overhearing them about the slight comment about them, one thing was for sure. They were both in trouble once this was over. Once they were all ready they made the difficult of breaking down the airship’s escape hatch. All of them came out one by one and they gathered together once they were a good distance of away from the ship.

Jaune: Ok so Oscar and Ren’s scrolls are the only ones that weren’t destroyed from the crash. Which means can track the others location and meet up with them.

Nora: Alright, lets get moving then.

Jaune: Ok let’s move out team.

*Clang*

Jaune: Huh?

They all look to see what Jaune stepped on and sees that it was a piece of a Atlesian Knight that was in beyond repair damage. Upon noticing their full surroundings they see that they were surrounded by mangled and destroyed Atlesian Knights all over the place.

Oscar: What the-? Why are there Knights here? I thought they were supposed to meet us at the rendezvous point.

Ren: The way they were damaged doesn’t look like they fought the Wyvern, it looks like they were facing a human sized opponent, maybe more than one.

Nora: Guys....look.

All three boys turned to their female teammate and saw what she was holding. It was a piece of a glass knife. With a distinct orange markings. The sight of the weapon caused Jaune’s blood to run cold.

Jaune: No...no, no, no, No! That can’t be what I think it is. There’s no way!

Ren: Who else do we know that happenes uses glass weaponry.

Jaune as much as he wants to deny the truth, the proof was in his presence. Cinder Fall was alive, and apparently she wasn’t alone. He clenched his right hand into a fist. He desperately tries to calm his thoughts but the negative emotions and thoughts were coming faster than he could handle. His brow furrowed in anger.

Jaune: 'She’s alive. Cinder is here In Mantle. But if she’s here then that means....!' RUBY!

His thoughts are going a million miles per hour as it was not hard to picture the scenario. Ruby and her team were here but in a state of shape he didn’t know with a woman who’s got a fierce vendetta against his silver eyed friend. Who could be in a vulnerable state. While he’s standing here just doing nothing about it! Quickly he snatched Ren’s scroll and earning a cry of protest from his fellow teammate but dismissed it.

Jaune: Change of plans! You guys need to contact Ironwood and send back up. I’ll go find Ruby and her team.

Nora: Jaune wait! Where are you going!

It was too late to stop their leader as he made a mad dash towards the direction of the other ship. Hopefully with enough time he can make it there before them. However his team did not have the same thought he did. Quickly Ren chases after him only turning around to call out to Nora.

Ren: Nora! Stay with Oscar I’m going to go with Jaune.

Nora: Wha- Like hell I am!

Oscar: Wait shouldn’t we be sticking togeth-WOAAH?!

Nora proceeds to pick up Oscar and carry him by the shoulder and makes chase after theirs two other teammates. Not noticing the two figures watching over them from a roof of a building. Cinder Fall watched as the blonde fool took her bait and now sees that they are making the path to the target she and Neo both seek. Ruby Rose.

Cinder: Come Neo, looks like our time for vengeance is at hand.

Neo: (Grins sinisterly)

-End of Chapter 5 part 2-

Preview: Part 3

Ren: Jaune you need to stop! You’re not thinking straight!

Jaune: Cinder Fall is out in the streets of Mantle, probably planning to make Atlas another Fall of Beacon and you want me to calm down!

***

Qrow: Team JNPR is not here!

Winter: Could they have?

Qrow: No, they’re not dead. We would have found bodies if that were the case.

****

Whitley: M-Mother what are you-?

Willow: Whitley we don’t have much time we need to leave the mansion! There are intruders in here, they’ve attacked your Father already. So we must leave at once!

*****

Watts: It appears we are not alone...Tyrian, Mr. Black, you both know what to do.

******

???: Oscar, Oscar! Can you hear me!

Oscar: ...Ozpin!

*******

Salem: Jaune Arc, I finally found you.

[themyskira]

The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #4, part 2

In the first half of this issue, we got Carol’s new secret origin, which reduced all of her previously hard-earned victories and achievements to ~birthright~ and ~Kree blood~ and ~destiny~.

The second half gives us the story of how Marie met Joe and how Carol came to be, which quickly turns into a litany of excuses for Marie and Joe’s abject failures as parents and human beings.

Which means -- sorry, guys -- we’re gonna have to talk about the abuse stuff again.

Marie says she’ll explain everything, but first they need to “batten down the hatches” and get ready for the next attack. Carol and JJ turn the obnoxiousness up to eleven.

Carol: I’ll batten— JJ: Start chattin’!!!

They then proceed to sit around and do nothing to secure their defences for the rest of the issue.

Marie explains that she was sent on a mission to Earth. Boston wasn’t her target, but she was blown off course and crash-landed in the harbour. Joe spotted her thrashing in the water and rescued her.

“From then on, my training kicked in. ‘First principle of assimilation on a new planet: Never present with a power.’”

This is hilarious, because on the very next page we see Marie repeatedly using her powers in crowded public spaces by accident.

We never find out what Marie’s mission on Earth was. Since she never gets any further than Boston, the impression I get is that she flew in there all gung-ho, only to lock eyes with a cute boy and immediately forget about everything else.

While she keeps stalling with her superiors, reporting that she’s cultivated a romance with a human as a ‘cover’ (for what?!), Marie grows ever closer to Joe. He discovers that she’s an alien because, despite being the youngest, smartest, strongest, bestest, greatestest Imperial Guard captain in the history of the Kree Empire, she can’t get a handle on basic undercover principles like not flying in public.

Eventually they get married.

“It was the happiest day of my life… But it was also the beginning of a lifelong lie. Because Joe married the wrong woman. Mari-Ell had come to Earth looking for a war. Marie had stayed on Earth looking for a life, love, a family. All the things no Kree ever gets to know… or even know they want. That was my choice. When Captain Mari-Ell became Mrs Joseph Danvers, I became the person I was meant to be… just not the person your father had fallen in love with. Those letters that broke your heart, Carol? They were written to another woman, the one he was afraid of losing. Mari-Ell. Someone I no longer am, someone I no longer want to be.”

hOKAY LET’S GET INTO THIS.

Joe didn’t fall in “love” with anyone. He fell in lust with a fantasy of a sexy mystery girl from the ocean who trailed after him like a lost puppy and hung on his every word, of an illicit affair with an alien soldier babe who would fly just for him. 

Then they got married and had a baby and Marie dedicated herself to building a family with him as he’d begged her to do, and Joe found himself faced with something he hadn’t bargained for — a three-dimensional person with thoughts and desires that didn’t revolve entirely around him.

That’s why he resented Marie and Carol both — for taking his sex fantasy girlfriend away from him.

Granted, this is not the spin that Stohl puts on it. She expects us to feel sorry for him.

“Your poor father. I tried to be the woman he fell in love with, but…”

Marie: …you needed me. And the woman you needed wasn’t a warrior from a distant world. It was your mother. … Helping you fit into this place? Making you feel human? That was my fight.

What in the EVEN.

Let us set aside for the time being the sheer outrageousness of the idea that Marie could not simultaneously be two things, that she was faced with a strict binary choice between being a badass alien protector and a domestic nurturer.

At no point in her interactions with Joe has Marie ever behaved as Captain Mari-Ell, Kree warrior who has “come to Earth looking for a war”. She’s your classic naive alien fish-out-of-water. He takes her bowling and she accidentally hurls the ball so hard that she shatters the pins; Joe stares and Marie utters an embarrassed “Oops”. He takes her to a baseball game and she gets so into it that she levitates in order to catch the ball.

All the while she is shown to be actively avoiding her mission and lying to her commanding officers about her movements on Earth. This is not a woman who’s in any hurry to find a war. All she wants to do is play house.

Nor have any of her interactions with Carol shown her to be a particularly attentive mother. She allows her husband to bully, belittle and traumatise their children. When a distressed young Carol tries to protect her brothers from their father’s fists, Marie first pulls her back sternly (“You’ll just make it worse… Now’s not the time”). And then, when Carol demands that Joe stop, scolds and punishes her (grabbing her by the arm: “That’s it, young lady— You’re going home”).

All of this is understandable, if still traumatising for Carol, if we consider Marie to be a victim of abuse herself. But that’s never explicitly tackled, and it’s the only flashback we get that shows Marie directly interacting with the younger Carol, which leaves us with a woman who let her daughter grow up feeling afraid, rejected, silenced, disempowered and undervalued.

Marie in the present day is little better. She has next to no relationship with Carol. She actively avoids being honest about her and Carol’s origins, even after Carol gains her Kree powers, even during the various traumas of Carol’s depowering and multiple bouts of amnesia, even when she knows that her silence is endangering her children’s lives. She is an awful parent and this is never acknowledged.

We cut to a flashback to the Danvers family in hospital with the newborn Carol. Marie says that she’ll be stronger than any human; infant Carol kindly demonstrates this by crushing Joe’s finger. Marie says she wants to call the baby Car-Ell — Carol — because on Hala it means “champion”

Joe summarily declares that, as Marie and Carol’s owner protector, it’s now his job to keep them safe and make decisions for them, so he’d better not see them acting independently or defending themselves, y’hear?

The misogyny is enough to make Marie swoon with adoration.

Joe: Champ, huh? Guess ya both are. But now the fighting’ days are over. For both a you. Marie: Joe… Joe: I’m gonna protect ya now. She’s my daughter, Marie. I’m not gonna let them touch her. I’m not gonna let anything happen to her. That’s on me. Marie [narration]: He had no idea what he was saying— and it made me love him even more.

Marie knows that to keep Carol truly safe, she needs to go off the grid, as it were — turn off the beacon that enables her Kree commanders to track her.

Yeah, and she’s just realising that now. Not when she accepted Joe’s proposal and committed to staying on Earth with him and becoming a mother to his sons. Not when she sealed that commitment by marrying him. Not at any point during her pregnancy. It’s only now as she looks down at her newborn Kree-human hybrid baby that she has realised ‘oh shit, there might be some consequences for this’.

And what the frig do her commanding officers think she’s been doing for the last nine months? She certainly hasn’t been carrying out whatever the hell her mission actually was. Has she just been telling them more and more elaborate lies, while taking increasingly outrageous steps to hide her growing belly?

But sure, turn the tracker off, it’s not like they could possibly track you to the location of your last known signal. Not when you’ve cunningly hidden your tracks by moving to the other side of the bay. They’ll be totally bamboozled!

“We gave you as regular a childhood as we could. We taught you to love, not to fight… to use your heart, not your fists. All the things nobody had ever taught me.”

Again, there is absolutely no evidence of this in the preceding eighty-odd pages of comic. This whole thing started because Carol is so scarred by her upbringing that she’s having full-blown post-traumatic flashbacks in her daily life.

It was hard for Joe, Marie tells us. Paranoid about being found and having his family ripped apart by the Kree, he began to see threats everywhere.

So you see, it’s not his fault he was an abuser! His wife refused to centre her entire existence around him! He was scared that her alien friends would come and emasculate him! It all drove him to drink! When you think about it, it’s really Marie’s fault that he beat his kids!

Joe convinces Marie that crushing Carol’s dreams and belittling her ambitions is for her own good, and Marie believes him because his alcohol-fuelled misogyny is so convincing.

(But she hates herself for doing it, so it’s okay that she made her daughter feel alienated and abandoned for years.)

Joe: You have to talk to her. She’s sayin’ all this garbage ‘bout bein’ an astronaut again. Marie: Carol’s going to be whatever she wants, Joe. Telling her not to do something isn’t going to change her mind. She’s Kree. Joe: Only half, thank gawd. Don’t think I could handle all this one small step for womankind crap an’ the flying stuff, too.

Jump forward to Carol at eighteen. Despite her parents’ lack of support and rejection of her chosen career, Carol has made it into her dream college course and is determined to one day work for NASA. But she can’t cover tuition on her own. She asks Joe for help and gets a crushing and unequivocal no. Marie is nowhere to be seen. In the present, Carol recalls, “I remember it was the night I needed you most, Ma. I had no one.”

But! You guys! The reason Marie wasn’t there is that she was off hocking her wedding ring so she could pay Carol’s tuition herself, which totally makes up for eighteen years of neglecting Carol and making her feel like less. And the reason Marie never told Carol any of this before now is that by the time she got back from the pawn shop, Carol had already packed up and left to join the military and “[Marie] had lost [her]”, because we are also expected to believe that the fifteen to twenty years that followed this offered not a single opportunity for Marie to reach out and make amends.

So really what I’m saying is, it’s Carol’s fault here for impulsively running off and not waiting around for her mother to finally bother supporting her.

For some reason Carol is touched by all this and the pair embrace, and they’re so caught up in their own moment that they don’t even notice Clorox sneak up on them and take JJ hostage.

[lonelypond]

IDOL PROTECTION PROGRAM: Change Of Plan

NicoMaki, Love Live, 2.5K, 15/?, you know the drill

A/N: Author gets ragingly sentimental ¯\_(ツ)_/¯Actually, part of my plan for these was to hit some of the spots where times are rough (in any relationship) and romance needs a reboot.

Change of Plan

Hoshizora Rin and her daughter Tora, were hosting Rin’s BFF Nishikino Maki and her daughters Dia and Ruby at Rin’s parents house. They’d finished breakfast awhile ago and the girls were playing happily while their mothers had coffee. Maki had her phone out on the table, having shown Rin pictures of the finished teahouse at the Kurosawa household her mother had given her and Nico as hideaway from the prying eyes of a Tokyo where the Nishikino heir and Nico Ni the Idol were too well known. The NicoTone, which hadn’t changed since high school, went off, and Rin was surprised when Maki didn’t pick up the phone and smile at whatever silly face selfie Yazawa Nico had sent to amuse her wife. Instead, Maki glanced briefly at her phone, then turned it face down.

“So how are the wedding plans?” Maki returned to the previous topic.

“Fine. Kayo-chin’s really excited and Tora’s learning all about how different cultures celebrate weddings. She wants us to have people break plates the night before like they do in Germany. She was practicing one night and Kayo-chin almost went nuts.”

Maki chuckled a little. Tora’s moods went from calm to crazy energy with no warning at all. She could see both parents in the girl and wondered if her friends thought the same when they looked at Dia and Ruby. She could see so much of Nico...Maki shook her head and gave her phone the side eye, “Do you have a date yet?” Maki sighed, “Nico keeps adding things to her schedule.”

“Nah, no rush.” Rin shrugged, turning to check on the girls. Ruby was playing with animal blocks and Dia and Tora were stacking the ones Ruby hadn’t claimed.

“You two amaze me.” 

“Hey, your wedding happened too suddenly for me to attend and I was STILL IN TOKYO then.”

“Yeah.”

No smile from the redhead. Rin became even more suspicious about her friend’s mood.

Then Maki stood, “ I have to get Dia and Ruby back to my parents. I’m meeting a friend for lunch.”

“Tora and I will walk you home through the girls’ favorite park.”

Maki nodded.

The park was mostly empty, although the weather was nice enough that many people were out strolling. Maki and Rin sat on a bench, mostly quiet, as Dia and Tora tried to coax Ruby onto a swing. It wasn’t working and Maki decided to rescue her youngest daughter when someone called out her name.

“Maki!”

Rin glanced up. A short, dark haired woman was rushing across the park.

“Oh, hey, Natsu.” Maki waved, “We were just heading back to my parents.”

Tora and Dia had decided to race, with Rin as the finish line.  It was a tie, one on either side of Rin, so she scooped them both of the ground. Ruby had a firm grip on Maki’s hand as her mother talked to this stranger, the tiny redhead tugging to be lifted.

“We can just go to lunch from here if you want to bring your daughters. This is Ruby right?” Natsuko reached down to pat Ruby’s head, causing her to cling even harder to her mother’s leg, thumb in her mouth.

Rin watched as Maki smiled briefly, lavender eyes downcast, “No, they’ll need a nap soon. And the more sleep they get in the afternoon, the more likely I am to get sleep at night,” Maki sighed, running a hand through her hair, “I must look exhausted.”

Natsu shook her head, cheerful. “No, you look good, Maki. Much more rested than either of us ever got during med school.” 

Maki nodded, bending to pick up Ruby. Rin snapped a picture as Ruby smiled and rubbed her mother’s cheeks.

“Ruby’s so pretty,” Dia suddenly announced to the world, but then switched to critical mode, “But she makes Mama carry her a lot.”

“Mommer can carry anyone.” Tora announced proudly.

Dia bzzzed, not believing her friend.

Rin grinned at Dia, as she slung the 4 year old up over her shoulder, “Try me. We’ll race Tora.”

“No fair.” Tora pouted, “You’re too fast, Mommer.”

“Dia’ll slow me down, kitten. Just enough to make it fair.”

Dia, now safe on Rin’s back, laughed and looped her arms over Rin’s shoulders, “No I won’t. I’ll steer.”

“Sounds great, Dia-chan.” Rin spun, careful not to jar Dia, and shouted, “Hey, Maki, bet you can’t catch us!”

Maki was startled out of her conversation as Rin sped toward the Nishikino’s house, carrying Dia.

“Sorry, Natsu, I’ll see you at lunch.” Maki grumbled at Rin’s impulsiveness under her breath.

“And I’ll convince you to go to that big party your parents are throwing. You need a break.” Natsu waved a goodbye.

Maki initially refused to run after Rin, but Ruby was bouncing and whispering “go go go” and Maki found herself once again in a headlong, silly chase after her best friend, both of them now carrying daughters. Tora, running alongside Rin, bounced and laughed at Dia.

Nico picked up her phone from her makeup table. She’d sent Maki a couple of texts, with no response. Nico’s big news, a supporting role in a sparkly ninja idol Netflix movie targeted at tweens shooting in Vancouver next month had gotten a very subdued response from Maki, as had the Korean concerts that had been added to the dates Nico had originally scheduled. Yes, they were supposed to be together by now, off the grid, raising their GIRLS in a small seaside resort together by now, but after a mostly calm year adjusting, so many opportunities had come up that Nico couldn’t resist the urge to have a big SPLASH before she completely disappeared.

Now, two and a half months into a brutally heavy touring schedule, Nico was missing Maki sorely. And not sure what to do about her wife’s increasing detachment. Maki’s temper flares were easier to deal with than this...weary chill. And then there were Dia and Ruby. Nico had never expected it to be so  physically hard to be away from her wife and daughters, but keeping in constant motion helped.

Not a text from Maki. A picture from Rin. Of Maki and Ruby at a park near the Nishikinos, one where Nico and Maki had often met. Nico looked closer. Somebody Nico barely remembered, one of Maki’s few friends from medical school, was in the background of the shot, watching Nico’s wife and daughter with a bemused smile. Nico frowned as she read Rin’s text.

R: EVERYBODY misses you Nico-chan!!!!!!!! (੭ ˃̣̣̥ ㅂ˂̣̣̥)੭ु

R: Maki’s snooty doctor friend is dragging her to some SUPER BORING party tomorrow. She’s cancelling on movie night ＝(￣□￣;)⇒ We were going to watch the Joan Jett documentary.

R: Tora sends her love and says bring her something with the Korean Olympic mascot on it. Kayo-chin says ‘get IceNice9er autographs!!! for her.”

Another pic, this one of Dia and Tora running around the park.

Maki hated her parents’s staged charity events. Nico stared at her phone, remembering the near manic babble of nearly every video call with the girls, although Ruby mostly made noises, not words.

Was Maki that desperate for adult conversation? Or just too tired to say no to her parents? Or…

Nico glanced at the first pic again. And the two rings on her left hand. She remembered how happy Maki had been to surprise her with an engagement ring,10 years after Nico’s proposal and Maki’s simultaneous announcement of their marriage to be. It had taken a few months to sort out the details and fit the official wedding into Nico’s schedule; getting their certificate from Shibuya and moving in together had been the easier, immediate step. Nico smiled as she recalled how small and cozy the apartment had been, even with the upgrade to a one bedroom, and how reluctant both of them had always been to leave it. Umi had bruised her hand nearly knocking down the door a few times getting their attention.

Maybe the Big Splash wasn’t the most important thing right now. She wondered how good the Nishikino’s travel agent was.

This week in Tokyo was reminding Maki why she really didn’t mind having moved to a small seaside resort town, Too many meetings, too much business, too many numbers, too many people who wanted to coo over pictures of Dia and Ruby and wonder how Nico could stay away from such cuties. Or mention that their husbands never had time for family either. But Ruby’s difficulties in sleeping in strange places or while travelling had put a crimp in any tour with Nico while the girls were too young for school plans. Dia had thrived as a baby but Ruby had never really adjusted when Nico took her on the road at 3 months of age. They’d all suffered through another six months, touring as a family, but everyone was getting miserable so Maki took the girls back to the Kurosawa homestead while Nico wrapped things up. Which the Idol had planned to do, in good faith, but then being at home had made her restless for an audience and so many opportunities had started dropping in her path that Nico felt obligated to agree to some. And then the Nico Ni train had steamrolled into this...Maki shouldn’t have been surprised. Nico Ni loved an audience.

Maki had let her parents and Natsu talk her into attending the event tonight. If it hadn’t been for her favorite jazz combo as the entertainment, she might have demurred. But it had been so long since she’d heard a live performance of music without amplified pop vocals or had even a sip of a mixed cocktail. Surely being an adult could be more than meetings and child care.

She opened the door to her parent’s house, half dreading the need to change and explain to Ruby and Dia where she was going and hear their cries for a video call to Nico...Maki’s ears perked up at a familiar voice, Nico’s, singing a song Maki had never heard before. Maybe Nico had sent the girls a recording of something she was working on….Maki smiled. Nico had been careful to stay in close touch with Ruby and Dia, sending texts and treats...then Maki heard a thump and Nico’s laugh, not pre recorded, as Dia joined in and Ruby shouted, “Momma, Me! Me!” Maki immediately kicked off her shoes to run to the media room, suddenly giddy. Her mother had watched the whole scene quietly from the stairs.

Nico, hair loose, wearing leggings and an old t-shirt of Maki’s was helping Ruby with some dance moves, holding Ruby’s hands up while the tiny redhead stood on Nico’s feet and the Idol moved them both through the steps while Dia watched and copied as best as she could at four years of age. It was ridiculous and charming and beautiful and Maki couldn’t believe it.

“Nico-chan?” Her voice spiked with nervousness.

“MAMA!” Dia ran to hug her, “Mom’s showing us a new song so we can dance for you.”

Nico grinned, “I got IceNice9er, my opening band, to teach me their new single for my best girls.” Nico lifted Ruby up into a hug, carrying her over to Maki so Nico could kiss her wife on the cheek, “Plus, Nico heard a very smart, very pretty doctor might need an escort to a party tonight so I rescheduled a few things.” Nico searched Maki’s eyes, her own apologetic. “I cancelled even more.”

Maki felt Nico’s arm go around her waist, Ruby between them, Dia at her side. She dropped her chin onto Nico’s hair, still as soft as ever, relaxing for what felt like the first time in months. They were together. Nico was here.

Maki’s mother made an appearance, “Dia, Ruby, it’s time for a snack. Come on, I put some fruit out.”

Dia followed her grandmother but stopped in the doorway when Nico still hadn’t put Ruby down.

“One more surprise.” Nico kissed her daughter, “Ruby and I have been talking.”

“Talk.” Ruby echoed seriously.

“And Ruby wants to see what happens when her mom makes a movie.”

“Movie...Mama, movie!” Ruby reached out to Maki.

“So we’re all going to Vancouver for a month, if it’s all right with you, Maki-chan.”

Maki was starting to suspect Nico had had her thoughts bugged and frowned at her mother who shook her head and shrugged as she took her granddaughter from Maki.

“Nico-chan, why are you doing all this?” Maki asked when they were alone, her tone suspicious.

Nico pulled Maki in by the waist and kissed her soundly, startling the redhead, who blushed and stepped back. “I missed you. ALL OF YOU. And Nico Ni was working so much to forget it, I forgot it.” Nico hugged Maki, holding her burstingly tight to make up for so many distant days. “Then your pushy orange cat of a BFF sent me a picture of you and Ruby in the park yesterday and I remembered.”

Nico chuckled as Maki pulled her even closer, “RIn might have nearly failed out of college once or twice, but she’s better at people than even Nozy. Her students are lucky.”

So am I, Maki thought, as Nico continued, “I love you, Yazawa-Nishikino Maki, and I am so sorry to have left you alone so much.”

“I love you, Nico-chan.” The rest of what Maki whispered was lost in Nico’s hair, along with tears.

Nico pulled Maki back to the couch, so the redhead was sitting half in her lap, arms wound around Nico’s shoulders, “There’s a suite waiting upstairs at the Park Hyatt for later when you get enough jazz.”

“What about…”

“Your parents are dropping the girls off at my mom’s on their way out tonight. She and Cotarou will take care of them for a day or two.” Nico ran fingers through Maki’s silky hair, along the curve of her ear, feeling the redhead respond, hearing the hiss as Maki tilted her neck to push into the touch, glorious eyes fluttering closed, tongue flicking across her lips. Why had Nico stayed away from this?

Maki knew people would occasionally call her spoiled and perhaps she was, but tonight, tonight, she was going to revel in that feeling. It had been too long since she’d been this close to Nico, and she was damn well going to let herself enjoy the entirety of Nico’s attention for as long as she could. She was having trouble remembering why she wanted to go out at all as Nico’s lips caressed her ear lightly, whispering wants, murmuring admiration.

Maki stood, Nico moaning a little as she found her arms empty.

Lavender eyes sparking with mischief, Maki let her voice tease,  “We’d better go get changed, Nico-chan.” Maki leaned in the doorway, but her glance wouldn’t meet Nico’s, “It’s a very, very fashionable affair. I don’t think you have anything to wear.”

“Nico is prepared for any occasion.” Nico raised an eyebrow, her arm along the back of the couch, “Is Maki-chan going to pick out my outfit?”

Maki giggled, she’d tweaked Nico enough that a hint of indignation had sneaked into the Idol’s voice, which made Maki bolder, “No, Nico-chan. But you can pick out mine.”

Drop a flirty wink and hustle upstairs to the guest suite. Maki counted to three and heard Nico’s hasty steps behind her. Her mother would figure out what was going on when they were missing from downstairs. For once, Maki didn’t care what the elder Nishikino might guess about their activities, as Nico’s arms caught her, spinning Maki into a kiss that made her glad they weren’t on the stairs.

“Gotcha” Nico smirked.

“Always.”

[thegjripper90]

Story Idea from an Autist and Power Ranger Fan’s Mind

While the Power Ranger short story is baking in the creativity oven, I’ll give you all a story idea (basically a headcanon) that I have in my head that concerns the Shattered Grid event.

Now remember its tag-line; No Ranger is safe.

What if at some point in the story, Lord Drakkon decided that he wanted to claim a successor, in order to take into account the possibility of him dying, however faint that possibility might be in his mind. During that scenario, he would search through time itself to find one via those green openings in time that he could look through in that live-action trailer. As much as he would want to have a Power Ranger like him to serve as his heir, so many Rangers have “wasted their potential”, as he has put it, that finding a suitable candidate would be difficult to do.

That is, until he would find someone that would be to his liking, someone who he could groom. He would then look through their own history, to make sure that he could find and counter any and all would-be surprises. But during that particular search, he would find something that would catch his eye...

Flashback to roughly a year after Countdown to Destruction, and Drakkon would use a green time portal to enter this time-period and into the bedroom of Justin Stewart, the retired Blue Turbo Power Ranger. His father would be grocery shopping while this is happening. (Yes, I know Justin is a divisive character due to more than just his age, but here me out on this). The young boy would be shocked and happy to see, in his eyes, Tommy Oliver, his friend and former Ranger partner again, but would be curious about the whole portal thing. He would also hold himself back from hugging him, as he would also notice something dark in his eyes, a kind of darkness that would make him feel a chilly twinge of fear creep up his spine. He may be a kid at this point, but after his time as an active Ranger, he would be perceptive enough to notice that something could be amiss. But, this would still be his friend, so he would decide in his head to give him a listen out of respect. Drakkon, posing as his Tommy, would tell him that he could travel to any place and any time of his choosing, as part of his Ranger Powers. This reminds Justin of the Blue Senturian, particularly of his death and how, due to him never getting his lucky coin back, all he had left of his robot friend would be his own memories of him. This reminder would cause him to look away in sadness, but then Tommy/Drakkon would choose to not comfort the boy as he would explain that he had offer that he could like. He would then raise his left hand to open another portal next to him, revealing a moment in time that would bring Justin to tears just by looking at it.

It was a time when he was hugged from both sides by his father and a person who he had not seen in years; his dearly-departed mother.

Justin would then say to Tommy/Drakkon with a shaky, quiet voice that his mom is dead. He would then reply by explaining that while, in this present moment, she is dead, she was alive in the past. He would then offer to Justin the chance to go with his father and Drakkon back to the point in time when she was just about to die. They could then take her to the distant future, so that she could be given the cure to the illness that brought about her death in the first place, thus saving her life. This would be done while she would be alone on her hospital bed, in order to avoid making a commotion. Needless to say, the boy would be stunned at what he was hearing. But after taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he then explained to Drakkon that from his experience,  he knew that Tommy would never lie about something like this. He would still see that same darkness in his eyes while speaking though, so he would continue by asking Drakkon what had happened to him lately, as him having time powers was very new to the child. The old Ranger would respond by telling him a blatant lie. That when he went into that future, he saw a world that was in shambles, a world that deserved better than what it was given. So he had decided to use his new powers to rule over it as its leader, to lead it to a brighter future. All he would need was help to make that happen, and he would see no one better than his youngest friend. The deal would be that he would help Justin and his father save his mother and bring them to the future to live together in peace. But in return, his family would serve him eternally, and the boy himself would be groomed to be the heir to his throne.

Simply put, it would be the survival of Justin’s mother for him and his family’s eternal loyalty to Lord Drakkon.

I have my own idea as to how he would respond to being given such an offer, but I wonder: How do you think Justin might respond? Would he reject the chance to save his mother, or pledge his loyalty to Drakkon just to keep her from dying?

As a heads-up, Zordon’s warning about him and what he can do to Rangers has yet to be sent at this point in the headcanon.

So for now, I leave the floor to you all.

TLDR; I have a headcanon where Lord Drakkon meets Justin Stewart a year after Countdown to Destruction and before Zordon’s warning is sent, while posing as the child’s Tommy, to offer him a chance to save his mother from death, at the price of him and his family swearing eternal loyalty to the evil Power Ranger. Does he accept or reject the offer?

[alanaknobel99]

Red Lipstick and The Green New Deal

Have you ever been told as a child, if something isn’t working then find a new solution? At this moment, our country is like that child, and it needs to be told to find a new solution. The way the United States of America has been operating works, but not for everyone, and our climate is changing. Not just our environmental climate, but the political climate as well. Our country is depleting, poverty is soaring, healthcare is unaffordable, student loan debt is atrocious, and climate change is quite literally killing people. Young people feel our country is stuck. The older generation is holding onto it like their youngest child leaving for college. Ultimately, no matter what, that child will leave. Everyone has to grow up, even this country, and it’s going to happen whether the parents like it or not. Every movement, and this is a movement, to push our country forward needs a voice. For us, that is Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez or AOC is a 31-year-old Latina-American born and raised in the Bronx of New York City. Her parents ended up moving 30-50 miles north of the Bronx to a better neighborhood to afford better education and a future for their children. In a 2019 TIME Magazine article, AOC said that those 40-minute drives taught her that zip-code matters. What a lesson to learn, that where you grow up has more impact on your future than you do. Her mother cleaned houses, and her father owned a small architecture business. In 2008 her father died which spun the family into financial turmoil. This caused AOC to pick up multiple jobs, working for a nonprofit by day, and bartending by night. She has constantly said that she never saw herself going into politics, but it’s hard to deny that she was built for the political stage. Her brother submitted her for Brand New Congress and Justice Democrats who are actively looking for young people to run for Congress. They want people who are working class, poor, educated to be the Americans who represent other Americans. I believe it was on her way to a protest at the Dakota Access Pipeline when she received a call asking if she wanted to run for Congress. From there on began the development of a grassroots campaign, that is the ultimate underdog story.

She was running against Joseph Crowley, an incumbent who hadn’t been challenged since 2004. He was your average democrat, swearing loyalty to fight Donald Trump, and that was a majority of his campaign. What he didn’t pay attention to was AOC, who ran on true issues and the need to help the residents of the 14th district in New York. Her campaign was made up of volunteers, a majority of whom were actors, and they knew how to put on a good show. They didn’t accept any lobbyist money, and were completely donation based. That was quite fascinating that she was able to beat someone who had millions of dollars being poured into his campaign fund. However, her winning wasn’t about the money, it was about this newfound energy and spirit that she has that led her to victory. She really cares about people, she cares about what policies are being put forward in order to help those people in the future.

She continues to radiate this fiery passion to fight, even into her 3rd year in Congress. This passion and honesty are what make her so radical, likable, and attention-grabbing. Allowing her presence on social media to skyrocket over the years. We can see this in news clips that have gone viral of her during committee hearings where she pours her heart out. In one of her most famous clips where she exclaims, “People are dying” while using her passionate words to defend the Green New Deal. In this specific video, she is speaking the absolute truth. The climate crisis is about human lives, and there should be no debate around that whatsoever. It’s come to the point in politics where people need to speak up and fast because the climate crisis has a ticking time bomb, and if we do not tackle this issue before it’s too late there is no turning back. AOC is the person speaking up, she doesn’t sugar coat anything, and she does it with grace. Even if people don’t like her, whether that’s the haters and trolls online or her coworkers across the aisle, continues to not let others silence her.

I remember when a Republican congressman called her a “fucking bitch” she spoke up. Whereas others, I feel, would keep quiet, I’m sure Nancy Pelosi has been called that by some of her coworkers, but the world has never heard it. Alexandria took the time to approach the situation like the female hero everyone knows she is. There is no politician filter when she speaks, it’s raw, and it’s fully and truly her. She is not afraid to use social media to call out people on their stupidity, wrongness, or even disagreement with others.

Some will say that she just became a congressperson at the right time, during the social media boom. While that may hold some truth, it’s really how she uses social media to create a space of transparency that has caused the public to flock to her accounts like a moth to light. At the time the TIME article was written they said, “her Twitter following has climbed from about 49,000 last summer to more than 3.5 million.” Her Twitter following is now at 12.6 million. I believe, just from my own research, she has the most Instagram followers of her other coworkers at 8.8 million followers. When I look at her Instagram feed compared to Bernie Sanders, Nancy Pelosi, Ted Cruz, and other big political names, her feed is very different. Others have a lot of information pictures, news clips, and statistical slides that may grab some people's attention, but it’s very political because there is no connection. When you look at AOC’s feed a majority are videos of her doing live Q&A sessions. I haven’t seen this on any other politician's platform. She is directly and in real time, answering questions about current legislation in which she is able to clear up misinformation. I watched her live Q&A about what was in the second COVID relief bill, and I learned so much. She has created this space of truth, transparency, and faith all because she chose to include people in what she is doing for them. Just a few days ago she posted a short weekly vlog where she explained what she did during that week. You don’t see others in her same position doing that. Many may think it’s irresponsible, not politician-like, but in actuality it’s what they should be doing.

Now, is this a generational thing or something else? She’s 31 years old, grew up during the social media boom, tends to have younger interns, is more in tune with the “lingo” as the older people may say. While it may be all of the above, she has actively chosen to use her social media like this. Others can use their accounts like this but choose not to for some reason. AOC is one of the only people actively getting the younger generation involved in politics, and she does this through the internet. During the pandemic, she live-streamed her playing the vastly popular game, Among Us, where she talked about legislations and let people ask her questions. She has made countless statements that the older generation in Congress always talks about young people, but never makes space for us, allowing us to show our potential. It’s always, “it’s not your time yet” never “come show us what you can do now.” AOC is leading the path for young people to have a space in the political circle. There is also one more major reason why people like her so much, and that’s because she is a working-class American.

I have said my entire life that I would love to see Republicans switch shoes with a steelworker for one day. The majority of people who run our government have grown up in a life of privilege that afforded to get them there. They don’t know what real working class, poor Americans go through every day. Our government has a real problem that if they can’t see it, it doesn’t exist. AOC has lived check to check, been on the other end of taking someone’s order, worked overnight just to have some extra cash to pay off student loans. I’m not disavowing anyone's upbringing, but she has consistently put forward a policy that helps the average American. Even policy that helps everyone, like The Green New Deal.

The Green New Deal is a Resolution put forth by Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Senator Ed Markey of Massachusetts. It is not a piece of legislation, but a call to action that the federal government takes steps to cut its emissions of greenhouse gases to zero by 2030. The 14-page resolution has a ton of what seems like radical changes. This includes updating the country’s infrastructure, energy grid, and ensuring livable wages for all American jobs. There is a lot to discuss when it comes to the Green New Deal, as within those 14 pages the goals outline almost everything that makes up the US economy. There are so many benefits that could happen to our country if something like this is passed. For instance, guaranteeing higher education for everyone in order to receive the knowledge needed to acquire a job with a livable wage. The Green New Deal also addresses issues such as systemic racism and puts forth proposals to invest in certain neighborhoods. These are the types of legislation that need to be put forward in order for our country to evolve. The fact that not everyone is guaranteed higher education, shelter, clean water, healthy food, is unacceptable.

Most of the rebuttal to the Green New Deal is that it’s too expensive, unrealistic, and the federal government shouldn’t have that much power. While the GND is expensive, estimated to be around 50-90 trillion dollars, the federal government will end up spending more money in the long run from disasters related to climate change. The Green New Deal says the federal government could spend up to 500 trillion dollars in economic relief by 2100. The more we wait, the more money we will have to spend in the long run catching up to those problems, until we cannot. To those who say the Green New Deal is unrealistic, I ask them to read a history book and identify all the major life-changing events that others have said were unrealistic as well. Americans freeing themselves from Britain, the abolishment of slavery, the civil rights act, The New Deal. For my response towards the issue of government power, if the federal government isn't the ones putting forth legislation to protect American lives I don’t know what they are there for.

With all that being said, is AOC the right person to bring forth this Green New Deal? To that, I say absolutely yes. She represents the new millennium, the rise of the younger progressive generation who is fighting to make real change in this country. Her use of social media, and how she connects to people across the world set an example as to who we want our elected leaders to be. Transparent, honest, and inclusive in their media. Her story, who she is as a person, what she stands for is what the Green New Deal stands for. Rightfully so when someone mentions her they think of the Green New Deal, and vice versa. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is what the future of this country will look like, and she will continue to lead the pack.

Bibliography

Alter, C. (2019, March 21). Inside rep. Alexandria Ocasio-cortez's UNLIKELY RISE. Retrieved April 19, 2021, from https://time.com/longform/alexandria-ocasio-cortez-profile/

DSouza, D. (2021, January 26). The green new deal explained. Retrieved April 28, 2021, from https://www.investopedia.com/the-green-new-deal-explained-4588463

What is the green new deal? (2020, December 08). Retrieved April 28, 2021, from https://www.sunrisemovement.org/green-new-deal/?ms=WhatistheGreenNewDeal%3F

Grunwald, M., White, J., Sitrin, S., & Gerstein, B. (2019, January 15). The trouble with the 'green new deal'. Retrieved April 28, 2021, from https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2019/01/15/the-trouble-with-the-green-new-deal-223977

(2019, June 12). The Green New Deal Explained [Vox]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GxIDJWCbk6I

'People Are Dying:' Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez Defends Green New Deal | NBC News [Video file]. (2019). Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGtuDCZ3t2w

[inadarkdarkroom]

Venka

This isn’t my story, personally, but it’s one that has kicked around my family for so long that it definitely feels like it’s mine. It’s been told and re-told, but I do think that the central details are very solid.

My aunt Sarah is my mom’s youngest sister. She graduated from high school in the early seventies. She’d been dating my uncle Jack for years, and they went away to the same college. He was on a football scholarship and taking the ag track (farms, ugh). My aunt was in college for education, to be an elementary teacher.

Anyway, it was the seventies, but they were from a very small town with ‘Christian’ values, so despite the fact that they’d been dating for years (and would eventually get married), and they were both seniors in college, there was no way they could live together. So my aunt lived in the dorms on campus and my uncle and a bunch of his football buddies got a place off campus. I can only imagine what a hole it was. Six guys in their late teens and early twenties, all football players, none of them has any idea how to even do a load of laundry. I digress. My point here is that it was a piece of crap house because what landlord in their right mind would rent to those guys? So crappy house in a very crappy part of town.

It was a college town, so there were some nice parts. But it was still a not very big town in a very agriculture heavy state. And it was the seventies, so there were still heavy manufacturing jobs. There were also several really big feedlots and beef packing plants (slaughterhouses) that ran twenty-four hours a day. So while there were the educated muckey mucks and the college students, there were also a whole lot of blue collar workers. And a lot of them were migrant workers who went were the jobs were. A lot of them were paid under the table and lived pretty much off the grid. Cash only. Never used their full names, etc.

Because my aunt was going into education, she knew what kind of challenges the school districts had with trying to deal with the kids from some of these families. A lot of the mothers - if there was a mother - didn’t speak english and couldn’t read or write, as far as the district was concerned. So the fathers/husbands/boyfriends worked these incredibly long hours, the women were home alone with these kids, unable to communicate with school administrators, cops or truant officers. Part of my aunt’s coursework for her degree was going into the local district and trying to help these families get services and resources for the kids, stuff like free lunches and pre-natal care if the moms were pregnant, etc. She said every now and thens he’d have a good day and know she really helped a family, but mostly it was just depressing as fuck. The families wanted the resources, but they didn’t want to bring any attention to themselves. The kids would do all the talking and translating for the parents - if the parents showed up at all. It was just a disaster.

So, anyway, back to my uncle, busy being on football scholarship and living the Animal House life. As previously mentioned, they were in a not very nice part of town - a part of town where the neighbors didn’t call the cops to complain about your kegger going strong at four in the morning, because they didn’t call the cops. Ever.

My aunt was over there a lot, and since she wasn’t a big drinker or partier, she probably paid more attention than the others. But she noticed this kid. And it was weird, even by the Animal House standards. Because it was just one kid, this little girl.

My aunt said the kid was probably five or six, so not old, but old enough to be in school. Except that she wasn’t in school because every time my aunt went over there, the kid was sitting on the balcony of this crappy apartment building across the street. The building had a dozen units, all of them accessible from doors that faced my uncle’s house. It was two stories, so from my uncle’s house, you looked across and it was six front doors and plate glass windows, and then the second story was the same thing, a balcony that ran the length of the entire building with six more doors and plate glass windows.

There were a lot of people who lived in those units, so on the weekends, there would be tons of kids of all ages running around, tearing crap up, generally being little jerks, like kids do. They moved into the house in August, so it was blazing hot and the sun didn’t set until almost ten at night, so the kids were always out running around.

But the little girl was never out there on the weekends. So my aunt didn’t know if her family kept her inside when the other kids were around, or maybe she stayed with another relative on the weekends, or what. But any given weekday, that kid would be sitting there all by herself, just staring over at them, even into the evening. My aunt said at first she just thought it was sad that the kid didn’t have anybody really looking after her.

But then it started turning to fall and the day were getting shorter and colder. One night my uncle was walking my aunt out to her car and they’re out there, like making out or something super gross that I don’t want to think about. But my aunt finally remarked on the fact that the little girl wasn’t out there, and that she was glad - because it was chilly. But then a car turned down the street with its brights on and when the headlights hit the balcony of that apartment building, the kid was still there. My aunt said the kid must have been wearing dark clothes because when the headlights passed over her, all they could really see was this very pale little face. And the headlights were so bright that it pretty much washed away all of her features. So she’d been there the entire time my aunt and uncle had been outside. They just hadn’t seen her because it was so dark.

Anyway, I guess that was sort of a turning point for my aunt. By now, she was into her internship with the district and she was doing a lot of outreach. So there was one weekend afternoon when it was still pretty nice weather and there were a bunch of kids across the street, but also some adults as well. So my aunt went over there to talk to them. My uncle went with her, as a precaution. She asked about the little girl, but no one would talk to her. She said even the kids pretended not to be able to understand her. She figured it was probably because my uncle was with her, but they all clammed up and wouldn’t say anything.

Then it was mid-terms and football playoffs and every got super busy. But my aunt said she still saw the little girl. And by now it’s cold. I mean, it wasn’t Minnesota or anything so there weren’t walls of snowdrifts or anything, but it was damn cold. Too cold for some five year old to be hanging around outside for twelve hours a day. And my aunt said it didn’t even really look like she had a coat.

So my aunt decided to stage an intervention - to get the kid a coat at the very least, if not getting her enrolled in school. So she sees the kid, it’s, I don’t know, like a Tuesday morning or something. Sun shining, mailman driving down the street, you know, nothing weird. So she sees the kid, no coat. She heads across the street and the kid is still just sitting there on the balcony waiting. But my aunt has to walk under the balcony to get to the stairs that lead to the second level. And by the time she walks up the stairs, the kid is gone. My aunt didn’t hear any footsteps. She didn’t hear any doors closing. Nothing. The kid is just gone.

My aunt figures it’s the same thing from before, they’re just scared of an outsider. But now she’s more determined than ever because this kid clearly needs some resources. That week it snows, so when the weekend comes, a bunch of the little jackals that live across the street are out there stockpiling snowballs to throw at each other and writing their name in the fresh snow with pee and other gross crap. But my aunt has learned from the last time, so this time she doesn’t take my uncle, but she does take candy. And a bunch of silver dollars.

The older kids avoid her like the plague, but a couple of the little ones come over. So my aunt starts asking about the little girl. The kids are way more interested in the candy and silver dollars than the questions. Most of them won’t say anything. But finally one of them says “Venka”. My aunt thinks maybe it’s the kid’s name. She’s never heard of a name like that, but maybe it’s a nickname or something. So she gives the little kids some candy and money. And when the older kids see what the little ones have, they finally come over. And now my aunt is a little wary because, yeah, they’re just kids. But they’re like fifteen and sixteen year old kids. But they take some candy and a couple silver dollars and they talk to her. Until she asks about “Venka”. Then the older kids completely clam up and they gather up all the little ones and in like thirty seconds, everyone is gone. And my aunt still has no idea who this kid is.

So now she’s given up completely on trying to get anything out of the neighbors directly. She starts asking around at work. But all of the other interns are in exactly the same situation as my aunt. They’re all really young and doing their damndest to keep their heads above water and help with this situation that so much bigger than them, and they barely have any resources to be able to do anything. None of the other interns have ever heard of this kid - my aunt was thinking maybe if she went somewhere on the weekends, then she’d maybe ended up on someone else’s roster or canvassing map or something. But no luck. No one has seen or heard of a kid by that description, and the name Venka doesn’t mean anything to anyone. My aunt even asks the social worker at the school and one of the cops who does outreach and none of them have heard anything either.

So it’s close to finals and my aunt is heading over to my uncle’s place to “study”. Ugh. Anyway, it’s not late, but it’s winter, so it’s hella dark, even at seven in the evening. But she sees the kid. And now it’s absolutely freezing out, and they had an ice storm just the night before and that kid is out there. So my aunt flips out and heads over there, fully intending to get the kid and call the cops, because this isn’t just neglect at this point, it’s abuse. But it’s crazy icy, so when she starts up the stairs to the second floor, she has to be really careful because everything is coated in like an inch of ice.

Anyway, she gets up there and the kid is gone again. And FINALLY my aunt gets freaked out. Because there is NO WAY a kid could have moved that fast on icy concrete. And she knows that none of the doors to any of the apartments were opened. There’s no snow, so it’s not like the kid could have bailed off the balcony and into a snow drift. But my aunt pulls it together and decides to walk the length of the balcony just to make sure the kid isn’t there - even though she can see all of it.

So she gets to the midway point on the balcony, where this kid is always sitting and in the ice there are these - she didn’t know what to call them. They’re not footprints, because they aren’t shaped like feet, not even like little feet. They’re mostly round, but like there’s a wedge out of the front of both of them. And they’re not just on top of the ice, they’re all the way through it, down to bare concrete. Like the kid had been standing there during the ice storm the previous night, and the ice had built up around her feet.

So my aunt freaks out and tears ass off the balcony and down the stairs - and manages to trip and take a spectacular chunk out of her shin, she still has the scar today. Anyway, she makes it across the street and is freaking the hell out. So my uncle and two of his roommates head over to check it out while my aunt stays back at their house, along with the roommates’ girlfriends who are busy patching up my aunt’s leg.

It’s like ten minutes before the guys come back and they say, yeah, they saw the footprints. And none of them can come up with any kind of explanation, but they’re trying to play it off. They work out all these different scenarios that seem plausible, like maybe there had been some empty cups or something sitting there and the kid kicked them off the ledge, and that made the weird footprints. They convinced her that if they went over and looked in the morning they’d probably find some cups on the ground. And then they said that maybe my aunt hadn’t seen the kid at all. At this point they’d ALL seen the kid at least once. She was always over there. But they pointed out that they all got so used to seeing her, that they probably just saw a shadow and took for granted that it was the kid. (Which didn’t make any sense if they really thought the kid had kicked over some cups, but whatever.)

Anyway, they all play it off. My uncle ends up driving my aunt in her car back to the dorm, and has one of his roommates pick him up later. And then finals and they’re all too busy to worry about the kid at all.

But then finals are over, so, of course, my uncle and his roommates throw a giant kegger before everyone heads home for Christmas. It’s the first time my aunt has been back to the house since all of the stuff on the balcony happened. But everything seems fine. It’s a weekend so some of the older kids from the apartment building across the street are loitering around, which means the little girl is nowhere to be seen, which, at this point, is just fine with my aunt

So the party is okay, a little mellower than usual maybe because a lot of people have already left for the holidays. So rather than the full on bacchanalia that usually happens, it’s like twenty people hanging out, drinking. All of my uncle’s roommates are still there, and their girlfriends and a couple of other guys from the football team. And one of the non-roommate players has brought his older sister, who graduates several years earlier. Her name is Marisol and it turns out that she graduated with a degree in my aunt’s major. And it turned out that she had been in the pilot program the year they started the internship program with the school district.

So the night wears on and there’s been another ice storm and the lights flicker out, which apparently isn’t a big deal. I’m not sure if it was the 1970s power grid that was the issue, or just the piece of crap house they were renting. Either way, the power goes out and so these idiots start a fire in the fireplace, which I don’t think they’d ever lit before. I’m not even clear on it being a completely functional fireplace. I’m still surprised no one died from carbon monoxide poisoning.

But yeah, so they’re all fairly trashed at this point, sitting around a roaring fire. And one of the roommates brings up the weird footprints - which no one has talked about in the last week, at least not in front of my aunt. And my uncle swears by it that they didn’t discuss it. But it’s been a week and the guys who went over and looked - my uncle and two of his roommates - finally admit that it was creepy as fuck.

And one of the guys says something like “I know it’s not possible, but it looked like - “ and he just stops.

And the other roommate says, “Yeah, like a ... goat hoof, or a pig hoof.”

And then my uncle finally says, “Yeah, like something was standing there with cloven feet.”

And then I guess one of the logs in the fire popped and everyone jumped and there were a few screams and then they all laughed it off and poured another round. But according to my aunt, the entire energy in the room was still uneasy.

And then the roommate who said it looked like a goat hoof turned to my aunt and said, “What did you say her name was? Velma?”

And my aunt says, “Venka.”

My aunt says you could have heard a pin drop at this point. But again, there’s some nervous laughter, and this time someone finally changes the subject for good. And my aunt decides to get good and drunk. And for another hour or so, there’s nothing more about the weird kid across the street.

At some point, my aunt gets up and goes into the kitchen and she says that Marisol, the teammate’s sister follows her. They’re alone in the kitchen and my aunt’s only just met Marisol, but she says the look on her face is really weird.

So Marisol says, “Did you say her name was Venka?”

And my aunt nods and says, “Something like that. The kids - the regular kids - across the street told me.”

Marisol nods and doesn’t say anything. So my aunt does the dishes or gets out a Jell-o mold or whatever the hell she was doing in the kitchen. But when she turns to leave, Marisol puts a hand on her arm and says, “It wasn’t Venka. It was ‘venga’. It’s slang. It means ‘come here’ in Spanish.”

And that’s when Marisol tells my aunt the story. It was the first year the district and the college tried this internship program and Marisol is stuck literally going door to door, trying to find these families with kids that need to be enrolled. Marisol gets a hell of a lot farther than my aunt ever got because she spoke fluent Spanish. The families still didn’t like her nosing around, but they would at least speak to her.

Marisol says she went to this crappy apartment building, it wasn’t the one across the street from my uncle’s rental, but it wasn’t far. And she sees all of these kids, including this little girl dressed in dark clothes, who appears to be by herself.

So Marisol talked to the more friendly kids and their families and she convinced them that they can qualify for services and going to school is really a good thing to be doing. And as she got up to go, she asked about the little girl she saw outside. And she said there was this old woman, probably a grandmother or great grandmother As soon as Marisol mentioned the girl, the woman crossed herself and shook her head. She tells Marisol in spanish that it isn’t a little girl. It’s a bad spirit and Marisol should forget she ever saw her.

Marisol isn’t easy to spook, and at this point, she’s heard unbelievable amounts of bullshit from families who are trying to stay off the radar with the schools and the cops. She figures maybe the kid is illegal, or maybe she was stolen and sold or given to another family - sadly, it happens. There was nothing particularly strange looking about the girl.

But Marisol said that when she tried to really think back to the girl’s features, nothing came to mind. It was sort of blank. Just a general impression of a girl in dark clothes. Anyway, Marisol wants to help, but she’s not about to set off some feisty grandmother armed with a rosary so she nods and leaves.

But she says starts to listen over the weeks and months. And she hears more and more about this venga girl. Apparently she’s called that because she whispers ‘venga’ and tries to lead people off into the woods. Marisol wasn’t clear on what supposedly happened to anyone who dared to follow her. According to the conversations she overheard, all of the kids knew better than to follow the girl or else they’d be beaten within an inch of their lives by a granny armed with a wooden spoon.

But Marisol said it was weird. And she swore she would catch glimpses of this kid in different places around town. And apparently there was a disturbing amount of animal mutilations, which always seemed weird to me. Given the amount of packing plants around, surely if that was your thing, you could find someone to pay you a reasonable salary to do it. But what do I know?

Anyway, by this time my aunt is super dunk and totally freaked out. So she gets away from Marisol as quickly as she can and informs my uncle that he’s taking her back to the dorm. So they head out to my aunt’s car. And okay, so supposedly there had been another ice storm, but I’m not sure I believe that. I think my uncle may have just been tanked. But a couple of blocks from the apartment, by this wooded area, he manages to slam the wheel into the curb hard enough that it blows out the tire. So it’s the middle of the night and it’s freezing and my uncle is out there with a flare, because apparently he doesn’t have a flashlight, changing a tire.

My aunt is in the car and is totally freaked out. And the flare is red, of course, and there’s all this ice, so there is red light flashing everywhere. But she say she looks over into the woods and that girl is there, like twenty feet from the car. And the flare is bright enough that my aunt can get a really good look at her face, except ... there isn’t one. She said her face was perfectly pale and featureless. My aunt swears it was face shaped, but there were no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Not like a skull. It was just completely smooth.

My aunt is in the car with the heater on and the radio going and she says she can hear this girl whispering ‘venga’ to her. How do you whisper without a mouth? I don’t fucking know and I don’t fucking want to know. The girl is crooking a finger at my aunt. This is the first time my aunt has ever seen the girl’s hands and she say she has these really long fingernails, but they’re cracked and some of them are bleeding, like she’s been trying to claw her way out of something. And her feet aren’t feet, they’re like hooves.

At at this point, my uncle climbs back into the car and my aunt turns to look at him. When she turns back to point out the girl, she’s gone.

They finally get back to the dorm and my aunt sleeps on the couch in the lobby next to my uncle. As soon as the sun is up, they pack up and drive all the way home for the holidays. And when they come back up in the middle of January for their last semester, my aunt categorically refuses to go back over to my uncle’s apartment. She finished her internship and she switched over to student teaching, so no more having to do community outreach. She got to be a teacher’s aid in the local high school.

My uncle swears he never saw the girl again after that. And then when they finished school in May, they moved back to our hometown. To this day, my aunt hates ice storms and she always makes sure the car is packed with flashlights.

More Scary Stories Here Submit Your Scary Story Here

[jilliangoesanddoes]

Saving each other.

I feel a strong connection to saving humanity in a world that is so strongly disconnected physically. Generalizations here, but people don't make as much eye contact, wave, smile, talk to a stranger, help someone pick something up, hold open a door, or help parent a child when their parents are missing... these are not new concepts, but we are losing them... Maybe we can blame my sue happy generation for part of it. No-one wanted to get involved in an accident and try to help because they might wind up sued.. or maybe it's technology much like the spell check friendly device that is saving us from my many typos. In community college, no-one talked after classes... on breaks we rushed to check our phones, check e-mails, call our loved ones and friends, see how many "likes" we have, or even check out our grades on our most recent test.. In the break room at work, we escape to our phones and the blaring tv. So... my rant... how do we not become "off the grid", still have our humanity and our technology? Moderation... be mindful of where you are, what's going on. Are you missing opportunities to make an impact on someone's life? Maybe make a friend? Today, my son of 9 and I were visiting Six Flags America in Maryland. We are cheap and decided not to eat there, so we drove to a local chick-fil-a (A travel treat, since they are not in our state). There I witnessed a woman arrive with her 3 sons.. she looked slightly worn, perhaps a single parent. She ordered food with the 3 boys in tow..I'd guess ages 12, 8 and 4? The two older boys sat at a table in my view while she took the smallest to the bathroom.. while gone, I watched as the food was brought out by the server and since he didn't see the woman, he started to bring it back behind the counter. I watched as the older boy inquired if it was their order.. I watched as he sat down at the table and started to get his littler brother set up with his meal.. I thought and maybe even said out loud to my son how responsible he was acting and how my son will soon be just like that boy.. more mature. I watched as the younger brother grabbed 1 waffle fry and covered it in pepper. The worn mother came back to the table without the smallest ( whom I later discovered was still pooping and capable of wiping their own butt). The entire tone of the scene quickly changed when she saw the food had already arrived. She quickly started yelling at the older son, asking if he had asked for his food and to "touch nothing". She accused him of putting all kinds of salt on the fries and then started smacking him in the head.. I was shocked to say the least... she must have felt that she was being watched and moved the boys to the table closer to the bathroom.. she then headed off to the bathroom with one last demand that they touch "nothing ".. I looked at my son to gauge his reaction from the transgressions... he looked sad.. I told him I felt sorry for the boy and that I didn't see him doing anything wrong.. he agreed.. I wondered out loud if it would do any good to tell his mother how proud she should be of her son, how he handled things so maturely that I myself had been feeling pride for him... Luca said I should.. I hesitated... now as a mother, I know that no-one wants to be criticized as a parent.. it's a hard job. Who knows what had been going on prior to their trip there... but I also know how wonderful it is to hear something good about your child.. it reaffirms that no matter how much you might think you are screwing it up, that you must be doing something right after all... As she passed by our table to grab some napkins, I made eye contact with her and briefly told her how responsible I had seen her child act. Her worn face softened as I saw pride and relief take over. Seeing her face up close for the first time made me not judge her so harshly for her seemingly unjustified badgering.. she looked exhausted.. the weight of the world hung heavily on her worn face. Her smile brightened as I told my account briefly. Later after my son and I finished eating, I excused myself to the restroom where I met the woman again.. the youngest was finally finishing up in the bathroom.. as I dried my hands to leave, our eyes met. She smiled and wished me a pleasant rest of the day. I smiled back with the same sentiment. The connection stayed with me the rest of the day. Maybe, just maybe together we can save ourselves from ourselves .

[kingsmanxrp]

LOADING PROFILE…

RHEE MINJUN, ALSO KNOWN AS MIN, WAS LAST SEEN IN SEOUL, SK.       CURRENT PROFESSION: KINGSMAN AGENT [ TECH ]

THE FOLLOWING DETAILS ARE CLASSIFIED. PROCEED?

PERSONALITY

he’s smart, almost exceptionally so, and the thing is, he is well aware of it. arrogant and cocky, he loves doing his job, and can be found quipping at the younger agents over the comms, reprimanding them and ordering them around. usually found near his computer, the lights reflecting off his glasses, minjun gets distracted quite easily, usually multiple things going through his mind at once. if he finds a conversation disinteresting, he tends to ignore them and tell them that out loud and blatant. he doesn’t know how to make it sound prettier, and he doesn’t particularly care, so he tells it out and clear before sketching some new ideas on his notebook.

lust and drinking are two of his vices, he loves to have fun, and while he can be carefree and fun to be around, he doesn’t speak much of his own self or past. it’s impossible to get something out of him when he doesn’t want to and he’ll lie through his teeth with a charming smile. still as stubborn and petulant ( and spoiled ) as before. there are times when he finds it difficult to get orders from people, not liking the thought that they are above him. when he was a freelancer, none of it was a huge problem but now, he’s working as a part of an organisation and of course, he has people he needs to report to. it’s his least favourite part, though after a few warnings and trips to the human resources ( he does not want to remember those ), min’s honestly trying his best, as much as it doesn’t show as much.

BIOGRAPHY

born in seoul to a wealthy family as the youngest child, minjun had almost everything handed to him on a silver platter, raised by babysitters and servants, the huge condo they lived in, the walls adorned with his parents’ accomplishments. the only thing he didn’t get was their attention, and as a child, he craved it, doing ridiculous things, breaking valuable vases, wiring kitchen appliances the wrong way ( and consequently making them blow up ), all to get his parents to notice him. his father was busy man, second-hand man of a ceo, an important tech company that had become more popular in just a few years. his mother was a secretary at the same company, and their workload was immense as they got older, so much that getting a second child probably wasn’t a good idea. not their words exactly, though some things didn’t need to be said. the fact that he didn’t see them around much was an answer enough.

the older brother, gunwoo, who was five years minjun’s senior, had been a poster child, winning fencing matches, a string of trophies adorning the tops shelves above the fireplace. he got a scholarship to yale and it was the topic of their dinners so long that no matter how many times minjun threw fits, he was reprimanded, the couple not seeing behind what he was trying to do. being seen as the problematic child frustrated him even further and he simply continued to cause more havoc, his favourite way of doing it was to open up expensive electronics to see how they worked, and he did it so often that when his father came home, he stopped scolding him, leaving the room with a sigh.

it didn’t seem to matter how well he did academically, and he just went through private schools with top-notch education, his notes were impeccable, which was the only way he could get a pat on his head. his involvement with technology began at a young age, he had started to learn how to code and hardware basics until seventh grade, and as much as it surprised his parents, he got into mit two years early, and the place so far away from home felt like a second chance, a way to free himself from being overseen for so long.

tons of money in his account ( courtesy of his parents ) alongside the private lessons he used to take helped a lot and he went through lectures without much trouble, but there was a whole other side to all of it. he has a high hq, and tended to get bored quite easily, used to people being on their feet around him, ready to do his wishes. of course, all the way in us was different than he expected, and he began to spend time partying at times and even more so going online, honing his skills that weren’t even slightly legal. he hacked small databases and companies with great joy, learning and creating more code. minjun wasn’t stupid, he didn’t start big, just slowly, testing his limits. it wasn’t even about money, and he transferred a lot to charity organizations, just to see the big people on top of skyscrapers pull their hairs in desperation. it was fun and he got used to it, so much that he started to think of it as a profession, even when he finally held two diplomas in hand.

a vice amongst men, he started to get too cocky, and less cautious, winning meant that he couldn’t lose, right ? just like that, minjun started to work with other people, whose skills weren’t bad at all, and they actually made it to the news, bringing down major companies this time, playing with fire. as all good things come to an end, they got caught, and he fled the scene as soon as he noticed one of their mistakes — buying a plane ticket to korea as fast as he could, he fled. they weren’t friends, after all, just colleagues and he wasn’t going to ruin his life standing up to them.

back at home now, he put on a mask easily, and as his parents often did, the sight of the diploma was enough to ease their worries, forgetting the fact that he had gone off-grid for the past year. slightly paranoid at first, his worries eased as the time passed. everything seemed to be going well, and he had stopped hacking ( for the most part ) and focused on his other major this time, working on small projects on his own, robots, extra parts to enhance home appliances. it still felt as if he was holding back and a knock on his door introduced him to a whole new world.

kingsman, a secret intelligence agency, had gotten to know what he did back in the united states and offered him a job. it seemed too much like an ultimatum at first, they could easily get him arrested if they wished so, but he didn’t deny the offer to see the other side. to have someone watch his back was enough, and he would have the chance to reach his full potential, to work on whichever code he wanted, use his skills to hack international databases and if he was lucky, to scam more ceos.

he joined kingsman at the age of 21, a trainee at first, though it was crystal clear from the beginning that technology was his calling more than field missions. put him in front of a computer and he could do much more damage than a bullet could have. the handlers saw through him as well, and he became an official agent soon later, his speciality being, of course, technology. min’s particularly handy with gadgets too, known for his out-of-the-box ideas. from a freelancer to an agent, minjun’s certainly pleased, he has his own lab and shiny gear to work on ( of course the latest technology ), and he’s not shy to say that he is good at what he does.

[fictionchronicler-blog]

Prince Charming: A Historical Romp Through Masculinity, Marriage, and Bad Haircuts

“And then he realized the doll wasn’t completely inflated.”

NOTE: Illustrations and gifs do not belong to me.

Ah, the perfect man, riding gallantly on a white horse, cape billowing in the wind, armor blinding in the sunlight—and he's on his way to find you, gentle reader!  This is supposed to be what we want, and I don't just mean women, but I mean general audiences.  The handsome prince saving the day is one of the oldest and arguably most satisfying endings there is.

While the term “Prince Charming” itself wasn't coined until 1889 in an English translation of the French fairy tale The Blue Bird, the idea of a noble man rescuing a damsel (usually a princess) from some unholy terror is as old as time, categorized as “princess and dragon tales” by folklorists.  Andromeda in Greek mythology has to be saved by Perseus from the kraken.  Sita in The Ramayana has to be saved by Rama.  In a Norwegian tale, not one but three princesses have to be saved from a troll, the youngest getting the guy in true fairy tale fashion.

This was...a very broad concept, I'll admit, and I almost decided not to do it, but the idea of the ideal man coming along and giving the heroine her happy ending has adapted over time like anything else, and your reliable ol' folklore researcher is here to guide you through it!

As True a Story as Fargo

“I rang the dinner bell fifteen minutes ago. Are you two still fighting?”

The tale of Saint George and the Dragon has been around since at least the eleventh century telling the story of a town needing to feed the nearby lake dragon two sheep a day to keep it from destroying their village—a scaly, supernatural Mafia situation. When that no longer appeases the dragon, the village assumes this means it wants the taste of human flesh and starts a lottery, the “winner” getting to sacrifice one of their children. Well, one day, the lottery winner is the princess. Dressed as a bride, she is led out into the forest to wait for the dragon.

In the first version I read of this, the princess volunteered to sacrifice herself for the good of her people, but I digress. We'll talk about women's agency here and there. Saint George comes across the princess and subsequently the dragon. Ordering the princess to give him her girdle, she does so and Saint George places it around the beast's neck. From here on out, the dragon follows the princess around like a dog on a leash. Saint George takes his new, unique entourage back to the village and offers to kill the dragon if the townspeople convert to Christianity. Fifteen thousand men convert. Take that, modern evangelism.

While Saint George and the Dragon is largely allegory, it falls in perfectly with the big medieval trend of courtly love. In a nutshell, courtly love is a way to make love both passionate and disciplined. Romantic love hadn't really been covered in literature up until now, Beowulf not really having to deal with having to juggle two prom dates.

It's hard to explain what courtly love is without saying “emo.” Think of love the way a teenager might see it. Not seething with jealously? It's not love. Your feelings aren't ruining your appetite? Not love. This was more or less a series of rules and concepts that dictated how romantic love was supposed to be. A man's good character makes him worthy of love. You should turn pale when your lover is around. Women should grieve for at least two years before allowing themselves to love again. It is not proper to love a woman you would be ashamed to marry, etc. Perhaps the most noteworthy thing about courtly love is that there isn't that big an emphasis on love being returned. When a man falls for a woman, he should do nice things for her and just hope that one day she'll love him, too. Unrequited love was pretty romanticized. You can get a really nice feel for it in The Cantebury Tales' “The Knight's Tale.”

No.  That’s something else.  “The Knight's Tale” is much more long-winded and has no Queen songs.  That, and it's one of the least funny tales.  Thank goodness for the Miller and his story that involves farting in people's faces. Anyway, the tale is all about two imprisoned knights who fall in love with Princess Emily at first sight and spend the rest of the time fighting over her and praying to Roman gods to marry her...while she prays to Diana to either stay single or marry someone who truly loves her.    It's not as fun as other tales, mainly because the Knight has a tendency to get off-topic, but if you want textbook courtly love, read that.

So what do these stories tell us about people's version of the ideal man in the Middle Ages?

1. Competent.  A real man gets things done.

2. Decisive. A real man does not stew on the morality of killing dragons.

3. Protective. Sombody’s gotta look out for these women who are inferior to men in every way, amirite?

4. Upper Class. Peasant men might not have had much time to rescue damsels. And the Peasants Respond!

Just a tad predatory looking. All he needs to do is sit on her chest while a random horse watches...

While fiction in the Middle Ages really enjoyed its daring sword fights and unrequited love, peasants in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries told tales to children with a far different purpose—don't go into the woods.  For the love of God, don't go into the woods, don't make deals with the devil, and don't run afoul of the fairy folk.  This might seem funny, but for peasants living in or around the Black Forest of Germany, this was no laughing matter.  Think how many fairy tales are more about being suspicious of suspicious-looking people than romantic love.  Keep in mind, too, that there is little to no chance of upward mobility in this kind of society.  If you're a peasant, your kids are going to be peasants, marry peasants, and produce little peasants of their own.  It's even worse if you're a farmer and your family's prosperity depends wholly on how well your crops do.  How can you get ahead in life?

1. Go off the grid and become a pirate/bandit/thief

2. Learn alchemy and hope for the best

3. Join the church and live in a cubicle for the rest of your life

4. Marry up.

The stories collected by the Brothers Grimm took royalty and made it the ultimate reward.  In most of their stories, if the protagonist (male or female) is clever enough to outsmart the villain and/or kind enough to listen to cleverer people who know how to outsmart the villain, they are usually rewarded with a prince or a princess at the end.  There really isn't much disparity in how often the reward is a princes vs. a princess.

I won't go into much detail in what all these stories are about, but if you haven't ever heard of “The Three Spinners,” “Cinderella,” “The Six Swans,” “Snow White,” “Snow White and Rose Red,” or “The Peasant's Wise Daughter,” you might be surprised to learn that the protagonist(s) is a plucky, kind-hearted, usually skilled maiden and her reward is a prince. For all the crap fairy tales get for being chauvinistic, it's jarring that the most memorable characters are all female.

So jarring, Charles Perrault decided to make a few changes.

In the late 1600s, fairy tales started becoming appealing to the rich, and like all good things the poor come up with, the rich people took it over and added a bunch of rules.  Many upper class French men and women had heard these peasant tales and saw them as potential for witty conversation in the salons. I like me some stimulating conversation, but I also know when not to mess with the original.  With courtly love also coming back into vogue, the stories evolved into elegant, romantic tales with a heavily-hammered-in moral at the end.  Less blood and fewer trees. The forest became a more pastoral setting, or even a city.  The peasant protagonists became gentry or displaced royalty.  And marriage became a big, big deal.

When in the Middle Ages, the prince figure was usually a knight a man of action, these were unquestionably princes, their refinement and sophistication as highly valued as their masculinity.  Beauty and the Beast started as sort of a fable for arranged marriages, that the guy you end up with may not fit your definition of handsome, but if you look deep enough, you'll find something lovable.

“Forgot my keys--oh.”

Okay, so you might not find something lovable, but the Beast is no less an extremely romantic (read: emo) character.  He asks Beauty every night to marry him, gives her his estate and possessions and invisible servants with no questions asked, and literally cannot live without her as he begins wasting away when she leaves to visit her family.  And of course, he's a prince that pissed off the wrong fairy.

It is in this same era that Perrault tweaked the Cinderella story.  The Grimms told a story of Cinderella's dead mother supplying her a gown and other ball-related necessities via tree, but Perrault creates a “fairy godmother” who pops in at the last minute to help Cinderella go to the ball—a place where she might be able to catch a husband and escape her bad home life—but never appeared before to use her benevolent magic to stop the girl's stepmother and stepsisters from abusing her. Perrault also cut out the stepsisters cutting off parts of their feet to try to fit into the slipper, preferring to have Cinderella turn the other cheek and find desirable husbands for them instead.  

We're going from the clever, talented heroines in the Grimm stories to waifs who are damned if they do, damned if they don't.  If you're pure and sheltered like Sleeping Beauty, you'll still fall into a hundred-year coma.  And if you're naughty...well, this time a woodcutter has to come cut Red Riding Hood out of the Wolf's stomach...then fill said stomach with stones. This kind of undoes Perrault's moral about not trusting strangers since this woodcutter never appears in the story at any other time, but we can't have a morally susceptible female rescuing herself, can we?  Even Bluebeard downplays the heroine's character to uplift the prince's/nobleman's. Bluebeard's a freakin' serial killer and yet Perrault's text blames the wife for the situation, that if she just had refrained from being too curious, her husband wouldn't be trying to kill her for finding out about all his previous wives.  

“Princes went from chivalrous to serial killers?”

Not quite, but the heroines were rarely given personalities and the princes were the rescuers, the real movers and shakers in the story. Princes went on adventures and rescued future brides.  In 1706, the first English translation of One Thousand and One Nights told the West the story of Prince Ahmed, who a nifty magic tent that could expand to the point where it could hold armies and contract to the point where he could put it in his pocket.  He also happens to buy a magic healing apple and saves a princess with it.  There are a number of strong, three-dimensional female characters, but the princes all get to be active and go on adventures.  There is also a robot.  I'm not joking. But a huge double standard is that women are foolish and selfish and cheating on their husbands with a Moor is the worst thing ever, but the men in the story (princes included) sleep around, hit women, and even Sinbad murders a bunch of innocent people for food, but the male characters are rarely punished in these stories.  The whole fictional reasons these stories exist also lauds men; the Sultan is worried about being cheated on, so he kills every wife he has.  Scheherazade, the newest wife, is creative and clever and tells stories that always leave the Sultan wanting more, so he spares her life, choosing to keep her after a thousand and one nights.  The Sultan lives happily ever after, madly in love with an intended murder victim.  

So let’s see how things have changed?

1. Competent?  Check.

2. Decisive?  Check.

3. Upper Class?  More check than ever.

4. Protective?

Protection adapted, didn't it?  Protection stopped being more about keeping women away from beasts and more about providing for women.  The men in these stories are not only filthy rich—which is its own kind of protection—but they are also morally guiding these women and keeping them alive.  Bluebeard's wife is rescued by her brothers at the end, but Perrault says the moral of the story is that curiosity can lead to deep regret.  He then goes on to talk about how “clearly” this story takes place a long time ago as, “No husband would be so terrible as to demand the impossible of his wife.”  How the hell is that the issue when the man's a serial killer???  What does curiosity have to do with the very first wife???

We're going to throw in another value here.  Wise.

Think about it. Cinderella's prince immediately seeks her out, seeing her as no one has seen her before, as appealing. The “Marquis” in Puss in Boots is in reality a simple miller's son, but the Cat is so worldly and clever that he more than makes up for it. The woodcutter is a fatherly figure who heard Red Riding Hood's cries for help and knew exactly what to do and took her home to her mother. Even Bluebeard, who sets his wives up for failure and has a room full of tortured corpses is entitled to test his wife and keep this horrendous secret, his only crime being that he “asked the impossible of his wife,” which translates to, “asked his wife not to be too curious about her own home, lest she find the room of tortured corpses.”

Yin and Yang

Hamlet: I said I wanted the grave to be dug under a weeping willow tree on the edge of a cliff perpetually surrounded by mist!  How hard is that?

Gravedigger: But this is where the cemetery is, sir.

Hamlet: (to skull) Can you believe this guy?

Hamlet, first performed in 1605 is not anything all that special, but so many tote it as Shakespeare's masterpiece.  My theory is that that is all propaganda on the part of actors.  Getting to play Hamlet is like being written a blank check—the actor can do with the role whatever he wants because it is sooooo ambiguous!  You don't even know how old Hamlet's supposed to be, as he's a student in medieval Denmark, which would put him in his late teens, but the gravedigger says Hamlet's 30.  Hamlet seems slightly more upset about his mother remarrying than having learned his father was murdered, but he also goes berserk a few times at people who aren't involved in his father's murder at all, and while Claudius, the villain, murders one person (in back story) and angsts about it for the rest of the play, Hamlet himself gets quite the body count and shows little to no remorse about it.  

Does the fact that Hamlet is a prince have to do with this role often being the peak of an actor's career?  Why do we think an actor who can play Hamlet well can do anything?  Hamlet's not really enough of a jerk that it's Villain Sympathy.  In fact, Hamlet is one of the least proactive protagonists in literature.  The majority of the play is him wondering what he should do.  Should he listen to this ghost that claims to be his father?  Should he tell any of his friends what's going on?  Should he kill Claudius when he finds out that, yes, the guy did kill his dad?  Should he leave his mom out of it, or was she involved?  To be or not to be?  

But to the mainstream, Hamlet is the guy who holds the skull and waxes poetic while sword fighting in period dress.  Somehow, him just sitting on this supernatural order to avenge his father's death has been twisted to where we've decided it's the role of a lifetime.  Shakespeare wrote other characters who were princes, but none of them were as prominent or as over-analyzed as Hamlet.  

Does Hamlet have any good qualities?  Well, of course, or the play would have been a complete flop.  He's magnetic.  He's smart, snarky, and unsure of himself.  But then you have Ophelia, his love interest.  Whereas Hamlet is defined by his struggle to be decisive, Ophelia just lets her father and brother make decisions for her.  She is dutiful, she has no idea that Hamlet is pretending to be crazy for some of the play (or maybe he is crazy.  So much ambiguity), and when her brother leaves, Hamlet seemingly rejects her from out of nowhere, her father is killed and her lover banished, she goes off the deep end.

Therefore, it seemed like what was going on is that women were losing more and more of their credibility while royal men could afford the luxuries of indecision here and there so long as they still fit all the other criteria.

Hammer It Further In, Victorians!

The Victorians might just be my favorite historical group of people. They're a psychological delight.  Not that they were as repressed as pop culture makes them out to be, but they were all about restraint when it came to deviant behaviors and ideas, often disguising them. In the Victorian era, the hero stopped being the centerpiece of the story.  Most of the care, detail, and time went into the villain. Dracula, Sweeney Todd, Spring Heeled Jack, Frankenstein, Dorian Grey, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and just about the rest of the cast of Penny Dreadful were the ones driving the plot of their respective stories, the ones the authors paid the most attention to.  Often, they were pitted against an innocent heroine, like Christine in The Phantom of the Opera and Mina in Dracula, but there was an edge to them.  Both Christine and Mina might surprise readers in how deadpan and genre-savvy both these women are, and while they don't physically vanquish their beasts, they play key roles.

So where does this leave the prince?

The role of the home in the Victorian era became more significant than ever before.  A man's home was his castle.  His job was to make it a safe haven; his family's job was to make it a domestic ideal.  Again, the ideal man was a protector, someone who could keep his wife and children safe from beasts (poor people, people who didn't speak English, Irishmen, etc.), but also protect them morally.  It's kind of easy to be seduced by the list of villains I put on here, isn't it?  They're just as rich as princes, sometimes handsome, often decisive and passionate...and maybe therein lies the problem.  The ideal man was not yet passionately in love with the heroine.  

“What do you call all that courtly love business?”

Isn't that more in love with the idea of being in love?  Honestly, you pick a random woman, say you'll do great things for her whether she loves you or not, but at the end of the day, you're the one getting the credit for doing those brave deeds and she'll be seen as ungrateful because you've never even had a conversation with her to tell her how you feel.  Loving a woman in the sense that you physically desire her while still desiring her friendship wasn't happening yet.  In a society that didn't encourage women to be open about their own passions, the men also weren't really allowed to do much that wouldn't result in a scandal.  He was supposed to treat his wife more like an employee than the object of his affection.  He could praise her skills at mothering and running a household, and maybe she could play a mean tune on the pianoforte, but none of her skills were supposed to be superior to his own.  The princes and heroes of the Victorian age were as bland as all get-out because everybody wanted to live vicariously through the more passionate villains.  

Well, film changed how we view the devil.  Did it change how we view Prince Charming?

Who Would Have Thought Melodrama was Boring?

Now, to be fair, not all these guys are princes, but I would be remiss if I was going to talk about princes in film and omit Disney's contribution.  For a long time, Disney animators had difficulty animating human men, and it shows.  Remember that short, Goddess of Spring?  Even though her arms are boneless, she looks like a passable female human. The god of the Underworld, though?  It looks like an old-time Mardi Gras mask.  

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs premiered in 1937, the same year that the Prince Valiant comic strip did, and both princes are given next to no personalities.  Snow White's prince doesn't even get a name!  Please stop saying Snow White is objectified when it's her prince that is treated as nothing more than a goal and subsequently a reward.

“But his heroism is just supposed to be accepted because he's a man and he's royal!”

Is it?  Disney animators tried to work around the lack of princely influence in the Grimm version by writing a subplot about the Evil Queen capturing the Prince and him escaping...but animating a realistic-looking man was just too hard for them.  We don't care about him or look at him like a person.  He's Snow White's reward.  Nothing more.

Cinderella's prince, officially the “Prince Charming” of Disney canon, is also objectified.  He has maybe three lines?  He isn't even there when Cinderella puts on the slipper?  His dad is given more screen time than him?  

Notice that, in keeping with the Victorian melodramas and silent movie traditions, the movies that have the most boring princes have very engaging, very passionate villains.  The Evil Queen, the Wicked Stepmother, and Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty are given richer animation, more distinctive voice actors, and a deliciously evil charm, that, so far, the princes just can't top.  They remained fairly quiet with their heroism just a given.  Around this same time, Laurence Olivier won an Oscar for 1948's Hamlet, the only time an Oscar was given to someone playing a Shakespearean character.  So it seemed like the prince was still relatively unexplored.  “He's a prince!  Must be a great guy.”

Not all princes in early Hollywood were bland, but there was a kind of leading man that got a lot more action, both in the cinematic and romantic sense—the rogue.

In the 30s and 40s, it was more common for the hero of a movie to be anything but a prince.  He was a hard-boiled private detective, a thief (usually of the Robin Hood variety), or a pirate, as swashbuckling dramas were big back then. Princes, therefore, started becoming a little buffoonish.  The ideal man in the 50s was, oddly, the family man.  The prince had changed to the ruler of a suburban home, still retaining all the traits we've mentioned before, only Ward Cleaver (Leave it to Beaver), Steve Douglas (My Three Sons), Ozzie Nelson (The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet), and Andy Taylor (The Andy Griffith Show) all upheld values most of Middle America agreed with and added a truly positive item to our list:

1. Competent

2. Decisive

3. Upper Class-ish (rise of the middle class!)

4. Wise

5. They Want to be Dads

Parody Ensues

The 60s changed a lot of things, how princes are portrayed among them. While the Prince Valiant comic strip was still going strong, people began wondering if this Prince Charming ideal was really a positive thing.  Wasn't the upper-to-middle class white guy the enemy of the Civil Rights Movement?  Wasn't the patriarchal figurehead oppressing and dismissing women?  Were these guys—gasp--just like everyone else in that they're fallible and sometimes do stupid or misguided things? Jeez, these Prince Charmings (Princes Charming?) must all be doofuses when you peel back the veneer.  Isn't that how princes are in real life?

When Royalty Smiles...

In 1973, Jay Williams wrote the children's book Petronella, and it fit right in with the Women's Movement.  Eager to seek her fortune, Petronella sets out into the world like her brothers and learns about a prince held captive by a wizard named Albion.  Albion says she must prove herself by completing certain fairytale-esque tasks, she does so through kindness and wit, and—spoiler alert—she and Albion fall in love.  Turns out, the prince is just a house guest that won't leave.  I can't find the cover art for the back of the book, but the prince looks like a Monty Python character.

In this same year, there was another book out there with a prince who was deceptively appealing.  William Goldman wrote The Princess Bride and later adapted it for the screen in 1987.  The only person who starts out as royalty in the book is Prince Humperdinck, and that name alone should tell you this isn't someone to take seriously.  Sure, he's competent, noted in the film for being an excellent tracker, and he's quite the mastermind, but he's also the villain!  The whole reason he plans to marry Buttercup is so he can kill her on their wedding night and frame another kingdom for it so he can get a war!  Buttercup's True Love is actually a former farm boy named Westley who is doing a stint as the Dread Pirate Roberts.  Humperdinck doesn't stand a chance.

I do like Chris Sarandon's performance.  He brings such dignity to it, which actually makes it more fun.  

As if pop culture wasn't dropping the anvil fast enough that Prince Charmings weren't all they were cracked up to be, Stephen's Sondheim's Into the Woods gave us Cinderella's Prince and Rapunzel's Prince, and the line, “I was raised to be charming, not sincere,” says it all.  Who would have thought a musical about interconnecting fairy tales would have so much innuendo (it's pretty uncomfortable seeing certain parts of this with children, let me tell you), adultery, psychological abuse, and character deaths?  It was finally filmed in 2014 and satirizes these angst-ridden overly-masculine types with the song “Agony:”

We're going to talk about one more before we get an interesting counterpoint to all this parody. Ladies and gentlemen, Prince Charming from the Shrek universe:

Forget the fact he looks like Jaime from Game of Thrones.  Rupert Everett's Prince Charming is a spoiled, prissy snob whose mother is none other than the Fairy Godmother, the brains behind the operation. Seriously, the movie where Prince Charming takes the lead as the Big Bad is terrible.  There isn't much to say about the role even though it's entertaining except that it just goes to the other extreme.  Prince Charming is decisive about not letting an ogre be with the woman that was promised to him, and he does seem competent at horseback riding and doing the tango, but he's whiny, preens a little too much for traditional manly men, and, most importantly, is okay with forcing Fiona to be with her against her will.  

“But, but, but, if the Prince Charming archetype is just an illusion, what kind of man can we have faith in?”

Well, I would say the rogue as in most movies, he proves to be a hero underneath the snark and scruff, but that's another meta (see The Unscrupulous Hero meta).  This brings up a good point—at least these parodies of princes are characters.  They have personalities and arcs.  You can call them a lot of things but you can't call them bland.  Prince Charming up until now has been a construct, a goal, a reward. Everything but a real person. 

Evolution!

Bringing it back to the Disney princes, 1989 responded to all these unworthy princes with Prince Eric in The Little Mermaid.  I consider him the prototype prince since he is substantially given more to do and emote than the previous princes ever were, but he's still kind of vanilla.  Eric likes being out on a ship, longing for a life at sea while Ariel longs for a life on land.  Hmm.  He plays the flute, totally doesn't mind doing the messier tasks a crewman on a ship would do, and the film goes out of its way to show that he is brave and not one to be messed with.  He saves his dog from a fire and harpoons a giant octopus woman.  He hangs out with Ariel, has fun when she’s around, and this was one of the first Disney movies that introduced some chemistry between the human leads.

After Eric came the Beast, Aladdin, and Simba, and while Aladdin is by far the most fleshed-out of these characters, these prince figures were given something Eric didn't have—pain.  Disney's Beast isn't proposing to Belle every night like in the original fairy tale.  We don't meet him as a romantic lead, but as a broken chimera despairing that his entire life seems to be defined by one bad choice.  Simba may not be the most interesting character, but there is a moment in the movie where he starts yelling at the sky (read: his dead father) about Mufasa not being there for him and then just breaks down in tears and cries, “It's my fault.”  Good lord, you feel for him there as much as you do when he's a little cub shaking his dead father in hopes of awakening him.  

Prince Naveen in The Princess and the Frog is not your grandmother's prince.  It's almost a full-out comedic role as Naveen is...kind of a bum.  He's a prince, but he's lazy, so his parents have cut him off, leaving him to either get a job and work for a living, or marry a rich woman.  Ha ha, Naveen just wants to play the ukelele, enjoy New Orleans' night life, and pick the richest of his many admirers to marry.  After he falls for Tiana, he doesn't change all that much.  He is willing to work for something and can buckle down, but he's still that funny, enthusiastic guy you want to be friends with.  He isn't diminished in his relationship with her. Nor is she.  Naveen can get Tiana to loosen up, and while the plot of The Princess and the Frog is needlessly complex here and there, the romance is very strong and their banter is right up there with all the great movie romance banter.

D’awww!

Counterpoint to a Counterpoint

Oh, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, I'm onto you, what with your romantic-comedy shtick.  To this day I am torn as to whether or not the twist to make him the villain was a good one or not.  On the one hand, it gives his character a reason for being in the story, and it's a realistic lesson that trusting everyone is just as bad as trusting no one.  However, what's the goofy little smile at the end of the clip all about?  Does he genuinely like Anna but still plans to somehow take over the throne?  Is that just how he smiles when he tweaks his own schemes?  His original plan was just to marry Elsa, but now it seems like, “Well, I can marry the cute, funny girl instead and just kill the aloof one.  Win-win.”  

“Psychopaths don't wear t-shirts saying 'You're with Psychopath' on them.”

Very true, and a commonality many psychopaths share in real life is that they are, you guessed it, charming.  They know how to attract people to them.  Unfortunately, though, things like empathizing with those people and putting those people before themselves are not really feasible things for a psychopath to do.  But then again, we are talking about film here, not real life, so is it a cheat that they made him the villain seemingly out of nowhere?  Weren't we supposed to be given some hints about his true nature since this is a story?

If you ask Disney, they did disperse clues here and there that Hans was not what he seemed.  He wears gloves, for example.  Did you know gloves are a visual shorthand for villain?  Never mind that most of Hans' screentime is either at a ball in which gloves would have been fashionably appropriate or when it's, you know, cold outside. Another thing they refer fans to is that in the song “Love is an Open Door,” Hans' lines about “finding his own place” and agreeing that Anna's “sandwiches” response to his “We finish each other's ____” was what he was going to say are indicative that he's stringing her along.  Okaaaayyyy.  

“But if you were taken in, isn't that the point?  Nobody knowingly gets involved with a psychopath.”

Yeah, but this is all so vague.  Consider that while Elsa is the queen and Anna is the princess, they are way too busy dealing with their own problems to actually rule Arendelle or do anything to help all the innocent people suddenly plagued by an unexpected winter.

Look at this!  Doesn't this just muddle things more?  Hans is the one handing out blankets and inviting the subjects to the castle where he makes it a point to say it's warm there and they've got plenty of hot food for everyone.  We're making the villain the only character in the entire thing who does any damage relief?  I'm sure this is probably a “catch more flies with honey than vinegar thing” as the truly logical person would conclude that Hans is just trying to win over the peasants so they don't revolt when he takes things over, and I know that being homicidal doesn't necessarily preclude anyone from being a great ruler, but come on!  

I guess the point the movie is trying to make with Hans is that you can meet a guy who seems great on paper and fits all the items on the checklist we've been keeping track of, but he can still turn out to be a jerk.  And I will say that Disney has tried the “surprise villain reveal” thing in a few of its other movies that came out after this, but this one handled that the best.

The New Wave

I can't say 2015's Cinderella is better than the 1950 version, but one thing it did that I admire was that it made Prince Charming a person. Prince Kit (I would have named him something else, but I digress) has his doubts that he can be as good a king as his father. Richard Madden gets to actually act as he not only has to be a little restless in his role, but also gets to express grief. He had said that the challenge of playing the Prince is to make sure that Cinderella is not seen as being lucky to get a prince, but that this prince is lucky to have found her.

We have an earlier example of this with 1998's Ever After. Prince Henry (Dougray Scott) is a very reluctant prince and shirks his duties whenever he can. It is Danielle (Drew Barrymore) who changes his way of thinking in that he can do so much good with the power that he has, and it is his obligation to do so. He listens to her, respects her, it's clear that he also physically wants her, and the two get plenty of time to get to know one another. His reaction when the princess he's betrothed to starts wailing is priceless because it's so in-character and there's even Leonardo DaVinci thrown in the movie for fun...a very charming movie indeed.

Artie Hammer is also a good prince, Prince Alcott in Mirror, Mirror. About the only good thing in that, actually. I didn't feel it was dark enough to be a Snow White story, but Snow White and the Huntsman didn't have enough joy to be a Snow White story (or enough actual dwarves playing the parts). Again, the Prince gets to be funny, gets to be a bit political as his whole reason for going to this kingdom in the first place is to meet with the Queen (Julia Roberts being horribly miscast). I don't appreciate the amount of ogling this otherwise children's movie does to the poor actor, but for the most part, he's a character in his own right. Maybe soon he'll pick some better projects that don't have him upstaged by a guy pretending to be a Native American like in The Lone Ranger.

But my all-time favorite Prince Charming has to go to Josh Dallas' David “Charming” Nolan on Once Upon a Time.

“Attention, everyone!  I know magical shenanigans are ruining all your lives, but you have to be in the background while the show focuses on my family's drama! For goodness sake, pull yourselves together and be the comic relief!”

Charming is pretty much everything we've covered so far, and you can see the historical detail they put into developing his character.  This prince started life as a shepherd, a commoner who, by some magical deals that don't merit this meta, must pose as a prince.  He gets to be one for real after he marries Snow White, but the crafted him to be a farmer-type guy.  He drives a pickup truck.  He wears a lot of flannel.  He's sometimes old-fashioned with his flaws as he can be overly protective and quick to judge, but he's also quick to change his opinion when he's proven wrong.  

Charming is deceptively easy to understand, and I don't mean that he's an airhead or a parody of what he represents.  I mean that his goals in life are simple. His likes, his morals—they're all simple, even his fears.  The man's greatest fear is that he isn't a good dad.  That's so relatable since every parent has wondered that about themselves, but it's fresh and unique when it's applied to Prince Charming, a “character” far more defined by offscreen heroics than being a member of a family.  In the very first episode, he's taking on three swordsmen while holding his infant daughter.  That's the character in a nutshell. 

It's a role that's a little underwritten, but like Hamlet, that sometimes means you can do some amazing things with it.  OUAT is full of polarizing characters, but Charming is not one of them.  He's universally loved, and that has everything to do with how convincingly Josh Dallas plays him, especially that he is able to play a father to an actress technically older than him playing his daughter.

Even when he doesn't have much to say, Josh Dallas brings so many fatherly gestures and facial expressions to the part.  That might be why the show has given him more and more to do as it's gone on.  It's a new take on the Prince Charming construct, isn't it—that all the sword-fighting, arrow-shooting, horseback riding, face-punching, and villain-confronting this guy does is for his family?  

His relationship with Snow on this show is sort of the measuring stick to which all other romantic relationships are compared to, and I wouldn't even say “Snowing” is the main romance.  While Snow gives Charming some much-needed direction, he gives her confidence. There are so many moments when Snow is doubting herself that Charming is the one to build her back up.  His belief that his wife can do anything is the foundation of True Love, and I don't mean that he sees her through rose-tinted glasses.  They are partners. One gets the sense that they rule together, whether it be in the flashbacks in the Enchanted Forest, or how they handle the town's problems in the present. 

So I would say our checklist is looking more like this:

1. Is a complex human being with positive (competent, decisive, wise, willing to parent) and some flaws to stay interesting

2. Has respect and admiration for his love and their relationship has a healthy dose of friendship in it

But if I were to just list all of Charming's traits—good and bad—or anything other well-written character in any medium—the list might just go on and on.  It's that way with real-life personalities, and opinions will vary on what the ideal man or woman is like.  Prince Charming is no longer an archetype or a plot point but a person, a real person who is inspired to do his best for love at the same time he inspires the person he loves to do their best.  Life is hard, and it's hard to find someone to share it with, but the fact that fiction is emphasizing these aspects is so positive.

[newssplashy]

WASHINGTON — Some of them met on Instagram. Others coordinated during lunchtime phone conferences. Most of them haven’t even graduated from high school.

The teenagers behind Zero Hour — an environmentally focused, creatively minded and technologically savvy nationwide coalition — are trying to build a youth-led movement to sound the alarm and call for action on climate change and environmental justice.

For the past year, a core group spanning both coasts has been organizing on social media. The teenagers kicked off their campaign with a protest Saturday at the National Mall in Washington, along with sister marches across the country.

As sea levels rise, ice caps melt and erratic weather affects communities across the globe, they say time is running out to address climate change. The core organizing group of about 20 met with almost 40 federal lawmakers about their platforms Thursday, and hope to inspire other teenagers to step up and demand change.

“The march is a launch. It isn’t, ‘That’s it, we’re done,'” said Jamie Margolin, founder of Zero Hour. “It means it doesn’t give them an excuse to be like, ‘I don’t know what the kids want.’ It’s like, ‘Yes, you do.'”

They are trying to prove the adults wrong, to show that people their age are taking heed of what they see as the greatest crisis threatening their generation.

“In our generation when we talk about climate change, they’re like: ‘Ha ha, that’s so funny. It’s not something we’ll have to deal with,'” said Nadia Nazar, Zero Hour’s art director. “'Oh, yeah, the polar bears will just die, the seas will just rise.’ They don’t understand the actual caliber of the destruction.”

The group is building off the momentum of other recent youth-led movements, such as the nationwide March for Our Lives rallies against gun violence.

“No one gives you an organizing guide of how to raise thousands of dollars, how to get people on board, how to mobilize,” Margolin said. “There was no help. It was just me floundering around with Dory-like determination, like, ‘Just keep swimming,'” she said, referring to the Disney movie “Finding Nemo.”

At the Sierra Club’s Washington headquarters Wednesday, as Zero Hour members continued to make preparations, six of the coalition’s leaders and founding members discussed how they became involved with the group, and why they think it’s one of young people’s best shots at creating a healthy, sustainable environment.

— ‘We are on the verge of something amazing’

Jamie Margolin, 16, Seattle

“I’ve always planned my future in ifs,” Margolin said. If climate change hasn’t destroyed this, if the environment hasn’t become that.

So for the last few years, Margolin has worked to raise awareness about climate justice issues. A passionate writer, she went through an “op-ed phase,” submitting essays to publications, like one titled “An Open Letter to Climate Change Deniers” published in the monthly magazine Teen Ink.

Still, Margolin thought she and other young people could — and should — be doing more.

“I had had this idea building up since January, since the Women’s March” last year, Margolin said. “The kind of idea that was nagging me and you try to ignore, but it’s an idea poking you.”

At a Princeton University summer program last year, she met other teenagers interested in taking action on climate change and created Zero Hour. They began to plan a huge protest in the nation’s capital. On social media, Margolin espoused factoids and reached out to other young activists.

A professed climate justice advocate, Margolin has kept the movement inclusive, putting the stories and concerns of those most directly affected by environmental issues at the heart of Zero Hour’s mission. Youths from in and around the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation spoke Saturday, and others repeatedly called attention to those killed during Hurricane Maria and threatened by rising sea levels in the Marshall Islands.

Since starting Zero Hour, Margolin said she had been overwhelmed by the response from people of all ages. Dozens of environmental advocacy groups and nonprofits have approached the coalition, looking to donate to or sponsor it.

“We flipped the scenario as the underdog. We’ve proven ourselves,” she said. “We are on the verge of something amazing. We’re going to change history.”

— Showing a movement’s artistic side

Kallan Benson, 14, Crownsville, Maryland

When Benson was planning a trip to the Peoples Climate March last year with her family, she knew she wanted to make a statement.

Benson doesn’t consider herself an artist. But a 24-foot-wide play parachute that she covered in a gigantic monarch butterfly design and hundreds of signatures from children in her community became a canvas for her to display the dire future she and coming generations may face, and express optimism that they will overcome it.

A chance encounter with the son of the founder of the nonprofit Mother Earth Project led Benson to encourage children around the world to create parachutes of their own made of recycled bedsheets (to be “environmentally conscious,” of course).

Inspired by the AIDS Memorial Quilt that has been unfurled on the National Mall in years past, some of those parachutes, sent from every continent except Antarctica, were laid out on the grass during Saturday’s march.

“The original idea was, ‘We got to get them on the National Mall,’ but then we thought that, ‘Well that shouldn’t be our first exhibit; it’s a little ambitious,'” Benson said.

“Then we talked to Zero Hour and they were like, ‘Hey, why don’t you bring them out?'” she continued. “I never imagined it would get this far.”

— Where business and the environment meet

Madelaine Tew, 15, Teaneck, New Jersey

As Zero Hour’s director of finance, Tew has had to get creative about securing funds and grants.

On the day of a deadline for a major grant — $16,000 from the Common Sense Fund — Tew’s school was hosting an event where seniors gave presentations about their internships. But she knew the grant would be a huge boost for Zero Hour.

“So I went to the nurse and was like: ‘Oh, I have cramps. Can I lie down with my computer?'” she said. “Then I just went in and wrote the whole grant.”

Her stunt paid off. Zero Hour secured the grant, and now Tew’s finance team, made up of students just like her, has raised about $70,000 for the coalition.

Tew, who attends a magnet high school where she takes classes in business and finance, has been involved in clubs to get the school and local businesses to adopt more renewable practices. But before meeting Margolin at the Princeton summer program last year, she thought those local efforts were “as far as you can go” for someone her age.

"It shifted from youth being a limitation to ‘it doesn’t matter,'” Tew said.

Though the practices of big corporations can sometimes anger environmentalists, for Tew, combining “my love for business and my care, my concern for climate” just makes sense.

"In many cases you can see how the environmental movement can be rooted in the way we do business,” she said.

That could take the form of encouraging companies to divest from fossil fuel industries or having local communities build their own solar or wind grids.

“We’re not just talking about building more cooperative farms,” Tew said, but also figuring out how to integrate ethical and sustainable environmental policies into business so “we can continue the American economy’s future.”

— ‘Repping the younger generation’

Iris Fen Gillingham, 18, Livingston Manor, New York

When three floods in the mid- to late 2000s swept through the vegetable farm Gillingham’s family owned in the Catskill Mountains, the topsoil was washed away and their equipment was submerged, eliminating their main source of income.

The floods devastated Gillingham’s family, which has always lived “very consciously with the land and with nature,” she said. Even her name, Iris Fen, like the flower and marshy wetland behind her house, alludes to that attachment.

“I have a pair of mittens that are made out of one of our Icelandic sheep, Rosalie,” Gillingham said. “My brother named her, I remember her being born and I’ve seen her grow up and my mom sheering her and spinning the wool.”

So when landsmen came to explore the possibility of hydraulic fracturing — a technique of oil and gas extraction also known as fracking — in their neighborhood when she was about 10, Gillingham joined her father, an environmental activist, in speaking out at local meetings, often as the youngest in the room.

“It was always myself repping the younger generation,” Gillingham said. “Part of that was my brother and I saying, ‘We don’t want to play on contaminated soil,'” (The Environmental Protection Agency has concluded that fracking can contaminate drinking water in some circumstances.)

But part of it was also knowing firsthand how essential a sustainable lifestyle — growing food at home, conscious spending, building greener homes — will be for her generation.

“We’re setting aside our differences and we are building a family and a community using our skills and our creativity,” Gillingham said of the movement. “We’re having fun, we’re laughing with each other, but we’re also talking about some pretty serious issues and injustices happening in this country.”

— Linking animal rights and environmentalism

Nadia Nazar, 16, Baltimore

Before joining Zero Hour, Nazar considered herself mostly an animal-rights activist. When she was 12, she saw a PETA video on slaughterhouses and immediately became a vegetarian.

“I had just gotten a cat,” Nazar said. “What if my cat was that cow?”

She got her start as an activist by trying to persuade people in her neighborhood not to go to SeaWorld, which has been criticized over its treatment of animals. (“I was slightly successful in that.”)

Then she dug deeper into the root causes of animal suffering and death.

“I found out how so many species are endangered by climate change, and how many are dying and going towards extinction that we caused ourselves,” Nazar said.

During a class, she stumbled upon Margolin’s Teen Ink essay and followed her on Instagram. And a little over a year ago, when Nazar saw a post by Margolin calling for action, she knew it was her chance to put her artistic skills to use. As art director, she helped organize a smaller art festival on Friday, and created the majority of the graphic elements for the coalition.

“Her story said: ‘I’m going to do it. Who wants to join me?” Nazar said. She immediately messaged Margolin. She was in.

— Working together toward a bigger goal

Zanagee Artis, 18, Clinton, Connecticut

Artis’ journey as an environmentalist began in the same place many other budding activists get their start — in a high school club.

During his junior year, he had big ambitions for his school: the building facilities department would finally start recycling white paper, students would start composting their food waste and the lunchroom would be free of plastic foam trays.

“I’m going to accomplish all these things and I’m going to go to the administration and tell them, ‘Stuff needs to change,'” Artis said.

But, he said, “nothing ever happened.” Artis said the problem was clear: Without engaging other students who might be interested, change was unlikely to happen.

So he started a sustainability committee within the school’s National Honor Society, and the results spoke for themselves. The group was able to buy the school an aquaponic system — a tank-based farming system that combines hydroponics (water-based planting) and aquaculture (fish cultivation) — and raise $700 to install water bottle refilling stations.

"So we accomplished all these things because we worked together as a community, and that’s how I feel about the climate movement,” he said.

Still, Artis said he “really didn’t think I could do much” beyond his local community until he met Margolin and Tew last summer at Princeton. Inspired by Margolin’s enthusiasm to do “a big, big thing,” Artis became Zero Hour’s logistics director, in charge of submitting permits for Saturday’s march, estimating attendance numbers, checking for counterprotests and helping sister marches with logistical issues.

“I was like, ‘Yes!'” he said with a satisfying clap. “'Let’s do it.'”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

Alexandra Yoon-Hendricks © 2018 The New York Times

via NigeriaNews | Latest Nigerian News,Ghana News,News,Entertainment,World News,sports,Naij In a Splash

[twilightpony4]

Ola Americano... Turtle?: 5. Send it in a Text

The moment they felt the wheels of the plane retouch the Earth, the reality set in. Raphael, whose eyes were clamped shut, continued to slow his breaths as well as channel his fear of flight. The rest behaved as children: shoving their faces into the small window in hopes to soak in the new tropical world they’ve landed on. From a TV stance, they were hoping for hot sunshine to bask in upon their faces, but with an almost set sun, only the city lights illuminated the tropical beauty.

The door from the cockpit opened. Behind it, the reserved woman stepped through with utmost care in her standing. The mutants quieted to see what she was about to say.

“I recommend staying on board for another hour so you can sneak off with minimal sightings.” She spoke in a quiet, authoritative voice. “Closest place to hide is along the Corcovado mountain just this way.” She ducked down to meet the level of one of the windows on her left side. Mutants who were on their left crawled over to the right to see what she was pointing at, sitting with their neighbor. The sky was a grey-blue, but there was orange light just creeping underneath it. With it, they can make out the rolling mountains in depth and an enlarged statue. With the recognizable pose it was standing with, it was not hard to guess who it was.

“We’re going to Jesus?” The orange banded turtle’s voice was bubbly and high pitched. He asked with such a big grin; glad that he could make a cheap joke.

“It’s a tourist hot-spot, but once you get past that, hide in the Tijuca National forest. Again, tourists but they only follow specific routes and the park rangers check the park at sunset because the wildcats come out only at night.” She continued without hesitation. This was a mother they were speaking to. A mother of sons as well. She’s been through the ropes.

“Good thing Jesus will be there. Fighting pumas and cougars and tigers…” Mikey whispered to himself exclusively. Wielding off big cats, although awesome, was not something he particularly looked forward to. He then let his mind be carried away, daydreaming about possibly waking up with a lion chewing on his leg like a piece of chicken. Stay close to Raphael. He’s slower at a run, so they’ll pick him off first. That and there should be more than enough for those cats to feast off of.

“I wish you best of luck.” The pilot saluted and jiggled on the door to open it.

“How come you can’t stay with us? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Donatello asked, standing and with a hand raised. She stopped short under the doorway.

“My son is recently out of surgery.” The officer’s predicament sent a wave of uncomfortable shifting and sympathy. Yet, she delivered much like a mother in order to keep the teens from feeling out of line for asking. “I’ll be about the airport to make it seem normal. I will check this compartment before I take off to insure you’ve left.”

“Thanks, Officer Warren.” Mona Lisa bowed. The officer gave her a nod from her respect and descended from the plane’s staircase.

The light from the sunshine was missing in the place of an enlarged moon. Everyone was anxious to leave but not so much as Michelangelo. After numerous “what time is it?” ‘s, Donatello quieted him by adding a countdown for an hour to keep him in the loop from his shoulder cams. Meanwhile, the family spent their time to stretch and prepare for their night. After being stuck in a small aircraft for so long, 6-plus foot teens need to get their blood flowing before going on investigations. The time did not come soon enough when Donatello announced that their time was up. In single file, each mutant emerged from the plane and settled underneath it until each one was off. After Donatello got off, they ran towards the shadow of the nearby forest in seek of refuge. The purple clad turtle began to track their position. The other mutants tried desperately to find a better view after the glimpses of colored lights drew them in. Finally, the planes and buildings gave way to Brazil’s true beauty. The airport was on a hill that looked down upon a colorfully lit town. Colored lights brightened the sands that touched the moonlit graced waves.

“Can you say ‘paradise’?” Venus exclaimed. Her lime eyes could not be deceived. Seeing New York for the first time was amazing, but now bright lights on nature? No contest. It was absolutely magnificent. She turned to flash a quick and assuring smile to whoever was behind her. It just happened to be Leonardo.He caught her gaze and smiled back. In a blink, she looked out to the scenery.

“Sure could!” Michelangelo pushed his way up to her side. “Where my Brazilian girls at?” He pretended to lick his hand and smooth his ‘hair’ back in order to prepare himself for the ‘female hype’ always talked about in Rio.

“In your dreams.” Mona lay her forearm and her head on his shoulder. “Come on, Mikey, we need to stay on topic.” She lifted herself on him and playfully tapped him on his arm. “Where’s the lab?” Her question directed more towards Donatello.

“The coordinates are searching… searching…” He kept his neck craned down on his tablet. “Ok, we need to move west. We’ll pass a few factories on the way there. Surveillance assured.”

“Travel by rooftop.” Raphael nodded.

“I cannot calibrate whether or not the buildings will actually be close enough together to jump…”

“So until then, we travel underground.” Leonardo finished, bringing the group together in a collective circle around him.

“Aw man! I did not come to to see tropical sewers!” The orange clad turtle whined, throwing his arms in the air. “We also didn’t come here to scope out Brazilian women.” Donnie raised a brow as well as a knowing smile.

“Right….”

The family burrowed up from the underground system.With Donnie’s guidance, finding ‘Laboratório de Biomecânica TCRI’ was not too hard. There was barely anyone out on the streets and the manhole that they entered through was just outside the main section of the city. The drain that led up to the silver room was incredibly large that it was a size they'd never seen. It took Raphael and Donatello to hold it up high enough for everybody to filter through. Then when they were above, all four of them lifted it up higher for the bigger members of the pack to crawl out of.

Donatello wasted no time checking his tablet to look at the facilities even though he was in a large scale lab. There was no time to lose (and he'll check it out as they go). The family, however, formed an involuntary circle around him as they scoped out the landscape and high walls.

“Stay frosty. More than likely there's different types of alarm systems.” Leonardo warned. The announcement sent pairs of eyes scanning the floor beneath them out of caution.

“There sure are.” Donatello pressed on his tablet and the cameras on his shoulder presented a hologram of what he was viewing. He put his device aside and messed with the graph before him. The grid was green and there were blue boxes and red dots scattered on it as he roamed around it. “My computer should be able to detect them, but tread carefully.”

“Gotcha.” Michelangelo whispered, winking with both of his thumbs up. “Stealth mode.” he spoke through the depths of his throat. An added “twinkly” fingers and descend into the background were definitely necessary. Mona, the body of the background, overlooked him. Her shoulder rolled forward to be more comfortable and “push” the young turtle to the back before beginning to wander around.

The facilities were dull and colorless. However someone could be happy with the chrome and bright lights was beyond the lady turtle, but she guessed the science conducted underneath it was intriguing enough. There were no lights but the faint ones coming from small or blinking lights from machines and terrariums of plants. In all honesty, they had no idea where they were going. With all the lights off, the lab was definitely closed for the night but they knew better. Donnie’s room when dark or late at night did not mean he wasn’t in there working. It can’t be too different from these professional scientists. Heads were on a swivel; one hand on the side of their hips as they tiptoed, following Leonardo and Donatello in the front of the pack. Donnie’s sole purpose was to make sure no one tripped up while Leonardo covered him for his head was continuously down.

With every few steps, a mutant swept across the floor to hide behind a structure. Hiding was a little harder considering that their machinery was an awkward size in which it was too short (causing one to crouch) or thin that the one behind it felt awkward and exposed. With each beep or industrial noise that sounded out of nowhere did not help calm them any more when they were caught in such positions. Covering a single floor took too long for one to count the amount of hasty steps and hitched breaths. At the moment, Michelangelo was gliding over behind Leonardo. The leader was disbanded from Donatello’s side and was hiding behind a wall. The rest of the family hid on other spots behind him, watching his back and sides as his muzzle peeked out from the side of the wall. His youngest brother was close, pressing himself onto his side with a hand cupping a side of his mouth and forcing his lips very close to the leader’s ear.

“How long you think we’re going to be doing this?” Barely could the blue banded turtle understand it but it was unacceptable ( and his hot breath so close made him shake from the awkwardness). Leo put a large hand over his mouth, scowling at the young terrapin when shaking his head. The leader removed it, but then the turtle shrugged quite confused. Leonardo put a finger up and reached for his pocket. The bright light of the phone was masked by his other hand and was dulled down by its settings as he kept the light close to his body. Michelangelo, who was sparked by the idea, hastily reached for his pocket and brought out his phone. His fingers typed away and as soon as he was done, he turned it off to make sure the little light left on it won’t be seen by someone who may be around. Then, there was a tone that echoed and haunted the walls of the facility. Everyone’s subtle gasps could be heard for they feared they had been caught. It was when Michelangelo, who cringed. He picked up his phone and read the message sent to him and others in the group from Leo. With guilt and a single eye, he read: “No one makes a sound. Communicate through text.” After he read his orders, Mikey tried to lighten the mood by making a comical frown, pointing at the phone and nodded. He looked up to see Leonardo, but he was all but unamused by his younger brother’s incompetence. Seeing his look of disappointment, Michelangelo nodded for one last time and proceeded to turn his phone’s sound off like everyone else. Just when he was done, he received a text through the chat.

“Why is ur freakin phone on?!?” from Raph. Mikey thought up quickly and began to type furiously. The rest of the group got it when he sent : “Because I wanna get caught!” Raphael peeked his head out from the desk he was behind. When Mikey saw him, he shrugged sarcastically with a “duh!” expression. The larger turtle shook his head and descended back behind the desk.

Leonardo began typing again, doing so with both his head and phone peeking behind the wall.

“Floor’s clear. Traps anywhere?”

“None from where we are.” In came another text from Donatello. “Go forward and make a left at the Synthesizers.”

“What is a Synthesizer exactly?”

“A what?”~ Mona

“Is it that the thing with the claw?”~Leonardo

“No. It’s the station next to it.”~Donnie

“The thing in front of me?”~ Venus

“That’s used for nanotechnology.”~ Donnie

“I THOUGHT THIS WAS A BIOLOGY LAB!”~ Mikey

“Just follow me!”~Donnie

The purple banded turtle emerged from his hiding spot and walked on in the front. They noticed he carried a somewhat irritated tension while he moved. Was it their fault they did not know what he was talking about? The blank floors were now covered in 6 foot shadows as they moved in Donatello��s direction.

“What happens if we do not find him?” ~Venus

“We try again at an earlier time.”~ Leonardo

When he sent it, something nearby vanished between stations. Leonardo was quick to look up when the black shadow disappeared and light showed in its place. A sudden jerk of his head alarmed Raphael who was right behind him and halted the followers behind him. The others were oblivious to what happened and believed they were just stopping out of precaution. Raphael couldn’t tell what was wrong, but the way Leo put an arm up and dipped his head low, it meant something. He hoped his head position would help him hear. His breathing stopped just to hear distorted footsteps. Following the sound, he slipped between the machines and saw a shadow turn to the right towards the exit. The chase was on.

Without hesitation, the leader bolted off. Raphael felt only the incoming of air he left behind as his brother took off. Getting a feeling in his gut, the red banded turtle slipped between the machines and followed.

“Hey! You! Stop!” The group left behind was stunned when they heard their leader scream after almost an hour of silence. It seemed like five seconds was a while until their collective, blank stares pushed them to run after them. Leonardo was in hot pursuit. He couldn’t tell exactly where the shadow was. When he lost its trail, he took the time to stop and try to listen. It was hard over the pounding in his ears and Raphael following up behind him. His sais were out, but he did not know the reason why. Not too long, four more mutants came running by his side. “Something’s running.” was all he could let out.

“You could have sent that through the group chat!” Michelangelo yelled. Raphael, violently, grabbed his brother by the chest and gagged him with his hand. How stupid of it was for him to shout out and tell the thing of their distance? He picked him up off his feet so pushing him down on the ground would be easier. Mona and Venus stepped over the brawling brothers. They knew Raphael was mad but now was not the time to act childish and fight. Now, they needed to track down that shadow and quick. Leo crouched down to breath and keep the sound of his breath away from the two girls. The lizard girl stuck her nose in the air to listen for feet as a way to filter out the noise underneath and behind her.

“I got movement!” Donatello called.The family turned (even Raphael who was holding Michelangelo in a headlock) to see him with his goggles on.Through infrared, a human heat source was tip toeing and checking behind itself every few steps. When Donnie called, the person began to run again. That was all Leonardo needed to start sprinting in the direction in which Donatello was facing. Venus was right behind him with Mona beside her, then gaining more ground than the turtle. Raphael pushed the young terrapin aside and gave chase. Stumbling, Mikey followed. Leo not dared to unsheathe his katana because the slight turn will indeed slow him down when he was so close. The shadow kept turning, so when he could see a lick of him, it would disappear. He couldn’t afford losing this person. Not only would they be tipped off that something is after them, but they could be a crucial piece of evidence in their case. From this point, there was no distinction from the sound of feet coming from the shadow or his team behind him. Only instinct drove him forward and would also lead him right into the path of the runner.

“Leo!” He could barely hear Donatello through his pounding heart.

“Leo!” That was the sound of the entire family. He was so close, but with their screams he began to slow to a trot. When he turned around, something was rushing after him. His skin crawled until he was grabbed from behind. The terrapin was ready to fight when he saw that it was Mona. Both of their heavy breathing kept them from speaking as he looked into her dark eyes with shock. Instead of talking, she pointed to the ground. Leo glared down and saw nothing in front of him. He stared at her with confusion and anger that she stopped him. Soon, Donatello caught up and brought up a hologram from his tablet.

“You’re running into a restricted area.” He showed him the screen. Instead of little red dots, the entirety of the floor was red. “Lasers; to set off an alarm.” he further explained.

“The shadow just ran through there. Can’t there be a glitch on your end?” He asked, distraught and irritated.

Soon, bright red flashing lights and loud alarming sounds showed their presence in extremity. A once dark room was now lit up with light and haunting sounds.

“I… DID NOT… DO IT!” Michelangelo made it all clear with enunciation and outrageous movements to ensure no one tries to chew him out or beat him down for such events to take place. Everybody blames him; not this time. Leonardo growled and ordered:

“Clear out!” He yelled over the alarms. Not only the feds will show up, but there could be a camera activation. They did not need that. The family began to sprint towards the direction they had walked into. All except for Michelangelo.

“Mikey, the other way!” Venus shouted. The young turtle realized his mistake over the confusion and followed his family towards the exit, huffing and puffing.