#it bears repeating in not a discourse way but in a way that's like... collective feelings
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lorelune · 1 year ago
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perhaps i will synthesize my complex thoughts, ideas and feelings about this niche into a post. Perhaps.
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sneakerdoodle · 11 months ago
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fuck. my first thought was. no way. no way the goal Is to kill a person by slicing them to pieces. no way they would Talk about how that is the goal? they would at least Try to say the blades have some other strategic use, right?
no.
The particular impetus for the development of the R9X was as an alternative option to a ground assault to capture or kill Osama Bin Laden in his compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan, according to the Journal. The Al Qaeda founder was regularly surrounded by family members, including women and children, presenting a need for extreme precision in any possible air strike. The specialized Hellfire could have made it easier to confirm Bin Laden's death, including through subsequent DNA collection, something that U.S. personnel reportedly did following the 2011 raid. Though special operators ultimately conducted that raid and killed Bin Laden, development of the ninja bomb Hellfire continued, spurred on additionally by President Barack Obama's new rules in 2013 for mitigating collateral damage in strikes outside officially declared war zones. One of the Journal's sources said that the missile remained an important tool for addressing what they described as a "right seat, left seat” issue. The story suggested this could imply the ultimate goal is for an air-launched weapon that can kill a specific individual in car or truck without injuring anyone else, but it seems more likely that it was a figurative expression. The Journal says the strike that killed Al Masri in Syria in 2017 was one of the two it was able to confirm that involved one of these bladed missiles. But in this case, the weapon killed Al Masri and the individual seated next to him in his Kia sedan. 
and what's fucking terrifying is that the U.S. will send these out while pedaling the narrative that this is a war on a select group of dangerous individuals (i.e. Hamas leaders), and then the people sliced to pieces are just displaced Palestinians. here is the video posted by the Quds News Network; you will see or hear no explosion or detonation; you WILL see a severed leg and a person bleeding out copiously in the street. someone shot that. someone aimed and shot that
when 'high precision low collateral' weapons are shot indiscriminately at displaced civilians we can remove the layer of discourse around 'casualties'. so much is happening under the pretense of deniability, as if razing a neighborhood down just unfortunately "happens" in a "war" and the real problem is Hamas who make Palestinians targets by "hiding" between them. Hellfire missiles, aside from simply being an instrument of inhumane slaughter, are also meant to target and assassinate specific, previously identified people. it doesnt even work that way but its MEANT to. and this is fucking clearly not what's happening. this is not how they're being used at all. bears repeating again and again that this is not a war on Hamas this is a genocidal assault on Palestinian people
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whitehotharlots · 4 years ago
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A movement that cannot be criticized cannot achieve positive goals
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The hardest part of talking about malignant trends on the broad left is that, well, you’re not allowed to talk about them. It’s no exaggeration to say that criticism has become fully conflated with violence. If you attempt to engage critically with a left-liberal writer--regardless of how thorough and respectful you may be, and regardless of how powerful, public, or insulated the subject of the criticism--you will be accused of dismissing and erasing the writer, of inciting violence against the writer, and of committing some form of genocide against whichever identity groups the writer belongs to.
Conversely, if you don’t provide specifics, you’ll be accused of making stuff up. The same people who claim it’s an act of aggression to ask for proof when they make claims of victimization turn into immense pedants the moment they encounter a heterodox opinion. 
Unsurprisingly, a discourse milieu in which critical analysis is forbidden is a prime breeding ground for unsustainable (and even horrific) behavioral standards. Never mind improving the world that exists outside their sphere of influence... these people are perpetually on the brink of destroying their allies, their institutions, and themselves.
Today I dug into an especially profane case that highlights both of these points. It’s a matter of public record, so I hopefully won’t get accused of “doxing” anyone for discussing it. It’s also the sort of story where if someone cares about it, they’ll have an opinion of it within a second or two of reading a headline describing what happened. This means it’ll only be of interest to the sort of cranks who read this blog. My goal here isn’t to express outrage or advocate for one side or other--although it is outrageous, and you won’t have to try too hard to see which side I favor. Instead, I’m going to try to move beyond that, to use this instance as a broader cautionary tale in regards to the more horrific tendencies of the identitarian left, and to begin formulating some means of resistance. 
In other words, this might get boring. Even more so than usual. 
The story involves a court case, documented here, in which a young man named Kieran Bhattacharya is suing the University of Virginia Medical School. Mr. Bhattacharya (a white supremacist name if I’ve ever heard one) was subjected to formal censure, repeated psychological evaluations, suspension, and eventual expulsion. This all happened because he raised some concerns after a White Fragility-inspired panel on microaggressions.
This is one of those cases where both sides are going to assume there’s a lot more going on beneath the surface and, like I said, are going to be disinclined toward actually reading the available evidence. Thankfully, the court brief is fairly exhaustive and--importantly--the account provided in the brief has received the approval of both plaintiff and defendant. To stress, everyone involved in this case agrees, legally, that the account provided herein is an accurate picture of what happened. Additionally, we also have audio of the initial microaggression seminar (Mr. Bhattacharya’s comments start at around the 28:30 mark), as well as of the pursuant committee meeting that ended in his expulsion. 
Here is the initial exchange, as documented by the brief:
Bhattacharya: Hello. Thank you for your presentation. I had a few questions just to clarify your definition of microaggressions. Is it a requirement, to be a victim of microaggression, that you are a member of a marginalized group? 
Adams: Very good question. And no. And no— 
Bhattacharya: But in the definition, it just said you have to be a member of a marginalized group—in the definition you just provided in the last slide. So that’s contradictory. 
Adams: What I had there is kind of the generalized definition. In fact, I extend it beyond that. As you see, I extend it to any marginalized group, and sometimes it’s not a marginalized group. There are examples that you would think maybe not fit, such as body size, height, [or] weight. And if that is how you would like to see me expand it, yes, indeed, that’s how I do. 
Bhattacharya: Yeah, follow-up question. Exactly how do you define marginalized and who is a marginalized group? Where does that go? I mean, it seems extremely nonspecific.
 Adams: And—that’s intentional. That’s intentional to make it more nonspecific . . . . 
After the initial exchange, Bhattacharya challenged Adams’s definition of microaggression. He argued against the notion that “the person who is receiving the microaggressions somehow knows the intention of the person who made it,” and he expressed concern that “a microaggression is entirely dependent on how the person who’s receiving it is reacting.” Id. He continued his critique of Adams’s work, saying, “The evidence that you provided—and you said you’ve studied this for years—which is just one anecdotal case—I mean do you have, did you study anything else about microaggressions that you know in the last few years?” Id. After Adams responded to Bhattacharya’s third question, he asked an additional series of questions: “So, again, what is the basis for which you’re going to tell someone that they’ve committed a microaggression? . . . Where are you getting this basis from? How are you studying this, and collecting evidence on this, and making presentations on it?”
You can listen to the audio if you like. There’s nothing there, in my opinion, that is not captured accurately in the written description. Bhattacharya does not yell or raise his voice. He sounds skeptical, but in no way violent or threatening. Nor does Adams, the presenter, signal that she is experiencing anything that approaches fear or trauma. 
Immediately after the event, a professor who helped organize the discussion filed a “Professionalism Concern Card”--a cute academic euphemism for a disciplinary write up--against Bhattacharya, alleging he had displayed a troubling lack of respect for differences (the irony here probably does not need to be explicated).
Soon after that--literally still the same day of the panel--Bhattacharya received an email from faculty asking him to “share his thoughts” so as to help him “understand and be able to cope with unintended consequences of conversations.” The tone of the email is polite and professional, but the text hints toward an attempt at entrapment. You’ll see this a lot in woke spaces--invitations to come to an understanding with one another that are, in actuality, attempts to get a person to say something cancellable.
Bhattacharya took the bait, and, well… 
During Bhattacharya and Peterson’s one-hour meeting, Peterson “barely mentioned” Bhattacharya’s questions and comments at the panel discussion. Dkt. 33 ¶ 73. Instead, Peterson attempted to determine Bhattacharya’s “views on various social and political issues—including sexual assault, affirmative action, and the election of President Trump.” 
At this point, the kid was fucked. He soon after had an uneventful-seeming meeting with a dean. Two weeks after that, a separate panel found him guilty of “patterns of unprofessional behavior and egregious violations of professionalism” and strongly encouraged him to seek psychological counseling. 
Pre-Trump, Bhattacharya still probably would have been fine if he had just kept his head down, gone to a couple therapy sessions, and maybe issued an empty apology. Since 2016, however, the rules have changed. An accusation is now absolute proof of guilt and no amount of ablution can save someone in a vulnerable position. 
Eleven days after receiving the ostensible suggestion that he receive counseling, Bhattacharya was informed that he would not be permitted to return to classes until he had been evaluated. A day after that--before even having the opportunity to seek the mandated counseling--he was given a mere 3 hours notice before having to attend another disciplinary committee meeting. 
This meeting found that Bhattacharya’s continuing behaviors were proof that he posed an imminent danger to the campus community, although the committee did not bother to explain what those behaviors entailed. His behavior was simply noted as “unusual” and this was proof that “Any patient that walked into the room with [Bhattacharya] would be scared.” The following day, Bhattacharya was forcibly removed from campus and told he could not return until he had been screened. He was, subsequently, not allowed to receive sanctioned screening, because of his status of having been removed from campus after being deemed a security risk.
Again, none of what I have described is an exaggeration. None of these details are even being contested. 
Now for my own conjecture: the problem isn’t that anyone genuinely believes Bhattacharya poses a threat to anyone’s safety. The problem is that he attempted to question the ideological firmaments of contemporary anti-racist training. These firmaments are protected with aggressive viciousness precisely because they cannot withstand scrutiny. Had Bhattacharya merely scoffed at them, or even if he had been outright condescending and dismissive, he probably would not have received such a severe punishment. The problem was that he was right, and his accusers knew it.
Understanding speech in the manner prescribed by the peddlers of microaggression theory cannot possibly be codified in a way that won't result in arbitrary punishment. Bhattacharya’s experience demonstrates that with horrific irony. 
The assertion here is that the intention of a speech act should have no bearing on how we adjudicate the morality of that speech act--such a point was made repeatedly in the initial discussion, and stressed once again after Bhattacharya’s concerns have been raised. This standard contradicts how we've processed the morality of speech for centuries, but that's what people are very explicitly demanding.
How is this workable, when literally any statement could, conceivably, be considered offensive by at least one individual? This, I feel, was the point Bhattacharya reaching toward. If you were to say, I dunno, "I love trees" to a group of 1000 people, 999 of them could regard that statement as benign. But what if one person takes offense to it? What if they work in the lumber industry, or they were molested by guy in a Smokey the Bear costume? What if that person then files a report accusing the tree lover of offensive speech? Will the speaker be disciplined? Or will the powers that be take intention and effect into account?
Of course, we're not going to criminalize all speech in this way. Like all extreme and broad-reaching disciplinary standards, this one will only be selectively evoked in order to punish people with heterodox opinions and/or those whose presence threatens the status quo. Someone who says something much more incendiary, like "all men are rapists" or "white people shouldn't get social security" would not receive a reprimand regardless of how much offense their statements caused, because they're saying something that's acceptable in our current milieu. And right now, the least acceptable speech is that which shines a light on the manifest flaws and hypocrisies of corporate anti racism. 
Back to my hypothetical example, if the tree-loving speaker was on good terms with everyone, the complaint would most likely be ignored. But if he had said or done other things that for whatever reason displeased the people in charge, the specious accusation could still ruin him. What's worse, the person who filed the allegation of offense might not have even actually taken offense at the statement--they were just looking for a way to get rid of him.
Bhattacharya was attempting to voice legitimate criticisms about a political movement whose suggestions are functionally unworkable and that, even if it were implemented fully and uncritically, does not contain even a hypothetical explanation in regards to how its goals would result in improved racial equality/equity. Because of that, he was cynically labeled dangerous and expelled from a public university. 
You'd think a group that obsesses over power differentials and their own marginalization would have some grasp of this. Regardless of which side you fall into with this particular culture war, it should fucking terrify you that a movement that’s been tasked with addressing pressing social problems is designed in such a way that any substantial criticism is met with aggressive punishment. 
There’s no way you can win if this is you is how conduct yourself. This is why we’re losing. This is why even if you get all the censorship and deplatforming you can ever dream of, even if every major bank and multinational corporatation professes fealty to your movement, you will still lose. Because there’s no way you can win. 
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They Never Teach You How to Stop
Rarely do I lack the words to express myself. Perhaps this reflects my failure to maintain my journal consistently throughout 2020. Here goes an honest attempt to capture and document my mental state and the fatigue of Covid, the inertia of this shelter-in-place, the anxiety of this political crisis we face as a nation, the pressure of being a 1L in law school against the backdrop of civil unrest and Justice Ginsburg’s death, coming out - my dad told me he was disappointed -, the possible erosion of my relationship with someone I love, and this feeling of absolute dread and resentment for a system that continuously fails my and future generations (robbing us of a social contract that promised life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness), among many other things I’m too tired to consider. When did we accept a $0 baseline as the American Dream? Oh, to be debt free - free from this punishment for having pursued an education. Stifling the educated to prevent them (myself included) from organizing and mobilizing the masses so we can supplant this system with a better one is the overall objective of the oppressive class (read: Pedagogy of the Oppressed); it’s the conflict between the bourgeois and the proletariat. The proletariat has swallowed the middle class, leaving only the ruling class. I am essentially on autopilot, forcing myself to go through the motions so I can survive another day. I know others join me in this mental gymnastics of unparalleled proportions, one social scientists and medical researchers will soon study and subsequently publish their findings in an attempt to explain the unexplainable. Despite a lack of air circulation, we are breathing history; the constitution, like our societal norms, must adapt accordingly. Judge Barrett: there is no place for originalism. While I seldom admit weakness or an inability to manage life’s curveballs, this series of unfortunate events seems almost too much to bear. 
And yet somehow I continue to find the energy to submit assignments due at 11:59 p.m., write this post at 1:38 a.m., “sleep”, wake at 7 a.m. so I can read and prepare (last minute!) the assigned material leading into my torts or contracts class. I find the energy to text my boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend) so I can attempt to salvage the real and genuine connection we have, cook elaborate meals to find some solace, wrestle with whether or not to hit my yoga mat (I don’t), apply to a fellowship for the school year and summer internships, prepare my dual citizenship paperwork, manage a campaign for two progressive politicians, and listen to music in an attempt to stay sane . . . ~*Queues John Mayer’s “War of My Life” and “Stop This Train”*~ . . . I realize I have to be kinder to myself, give credit where credit is due. I hate feeling self-congratulatory though.
Mostly, I am too afraid of the repercussions if I stop moving at a mile/minute, that I can just work away the pain and be the superhuman who numbs himself from the low-grade depression and nervous breakdown. My body tells me to slow down, as evidenced by the grinding of my teeth, but I take on more responsibility because people rely on me. I must show up. I am a masochist in that way. This is what I signed up for and I’ll be damned if I don’t carry through on my promise to do the work. Pieces of my soul scattered about like Horcruxes, though they’re pure, not evil, so I hope nobody resolves to destroy them. 
My mind rarely rests. It’s 3:08 a.m., one of the lonelier hours where night meets morning; it’s the hour for and of intense introspection. It makes you consider pulling an all-nighter, one you reserve for an “important” school or work deadline. We always put our personal lives on the back-burner. 3 a.m. sets the tone for a potentially awful day. But that doesn’t matter right now. I’m letting some of my favorite albums play in the background: Joni Mitchell’s Blue, Mac Miller’s Circles, Rhye’s Blood, Alicia Keys’ ALICIA, Coldplay’s Ghost Stories, Frank Ocean’s Blonde, Miley Cyrus’ Dead Petz in addition to other playlists, Tiny Desk performances, and tracks (I unearthed last week, like When It’s Over by Sugar Ray). I need to feel something. I need to feel anything. I need to feel everything. We experience such a broad spectrum of emotions throughout the day that we lose track of if we don’t pause to absorb them. Music reinforces empathy; it releases dopamine.
I spent the past two hours reading through old journals and posts, as scattered as they were, on a wide range of topics: poems I had written about falling in and out love, anecdotes about my world travels, and entries on personal, political, and professional epiphanies. The other night I found one of my favorites, a previous post from my time living in Indonesia, centering on the dualities of technology. It resonated with me more than the others. To summarize, I wrote about my tendency to equate the Internet with a sense of interconnectedness (shoutout to Tumblr for being my digital journal; to Twitter for being a place of comedy and revolution; to Instagram for curating my *aesthetic*; to Facebook where I track my family’s accomplishments and connect with travel buddies displaced around the globe all searching for a home). And yet I feel incredibly lonely and disconnected whenever I spend too much time using technology, so much so that I set screen time limitations on my phone recently to curtail this obsession with constant communication and information gathering. Trump and Biden admitted that it’s unlikely we’ll know the results of the election on November 3rd during their first presidential debate. Push notifications don’t allow us to learn of trauma within the comforts of our own homes. I’m already fearing where I will be when that news breaks. 
This global pandemic and indefinite shutdown of the world (economy) undeniably exacerbates these feelings. This is some personal and collective turmoil. But I was complicit in the endless scrolling and swiping of faces and places long before Covid-19. Instead of choosing to interact with my direct environment (today’s research links this behavior to the same levels of depression one feels when they play slot machines), I am still an active on all these platforms, participating the least in the most tangible one: my physical life. I am tired of pretending. I am tired of being tired. I am tired of embodying fake energy to exist in systems that fail me. I am tired of the quagmire. Like Anaïs Nin, I must be a mermaid [because] I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living. This particular excerpt from that 2016 entry was difficult for me to read: “The fantasy of what could have been if a certain plan had unfolded will haunt you forever if you do not come to peace with the reality of the situation. I hope you come to terms with reality.” I am not at peace with my current reality. But is anyone?
It’s a bit surreal for my peers to have suddenly started caring about international relations theory. It’s transported me back to my 2012 IR lecture at Northeastern: are you a constructivist or a feminist? Realist or liberalist? Neo? Marxist? The one no one wants you to talk about. Absent upward mobility, this is class warfare. But I cannot be “a singular expression of myself . . . there are too many parts, too many spaces, too many manifestations, too many lines, too many curves, too many troubles, too many journeys, too many mountains, too many rivers” . . . It feels like America’s wake-up call. But I know people will retreat into the comforts of capitalism if Biden wins and, well, we all enter uncharted waters together if the Electoral College re-elects #45. For those who weren’t paying attention: the world is multipolar and we are not the hegemon. Norms matter. People tend to be self-interested and shortsighted. Look to the past in order to understand the future. History, as the old adage goes, repeats itself. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Taxation without representation. Indoctrination. Welcome to the language of political discourse. Students of IR and polisci have long awaited your participation. Too little too late? Plot twist: it’s a lifelong commitment. You must continue to engage irrespective of the election outcome or else we will regress just as quickly as we progress. Now dive into international human rights treaties (International Covenant on Civil & Political Rights; International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights), political refugees, FGM. No one said it wasn’t dismal. But it’s important. We need buy-in.  
While I am grateful for the continuation of my education, for this extended time with family, for this opportunity to be a campaign manager for two local progressive candidates (driving to Boston to pick up revised yard signs as proof that the work never stops), it would be remiss of me, however, not to admit that I am lonely: I am buried in my books, in the depressing news both nationally and globally, and in precedent-setting Supreme Court cases (sometimes for the worst, e.g. against the preservation of our environment). In my nonexistent free time I work on political asylum cases, essentially creating an enforceability framework of international law, for people fleeing country conditions so unthinkable (the irony of that work when my country falls greater into authoritarianism and oligarchy is not lost on me). I am fulfilling my dream of becoming a human rights lawyer which stems back to middle school. I saw Things I Imagined (thank you Solange). I have held an original copy of the Declaration of Independence that we sent to the House of Lords in 1778 and the Human Rights Act of 1998 while visiting the U.K. Parliamentary Archives as an intern for a Member of Parliament. This success terrifies and exhausts me; it also oxygenizes and saves me. Every decision, every sacrifice, has led me to this point. 
“It’s the choosing that’s important, isn’t it?,” Lois Lowry of The Giver rhetorically asks. This post is not intended to be woe is me! I am fortunate to be in this position, to have this vantage point at such an early age, and I understand the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. My life has purpose. I am committed to the work that transcends boundaries; it is larger than life itself. It provides a unique perspective. But it makes it difficult to coexist with people so preoccupied in the drama they create in their lives and the general shallowness of the world we live. It feels like there is no option to pump the brakes on any of this work, especially in light of our current climate, and that pressure oftentimes feels insurmountable. Time is of the essence. It feels, whether true or not, that hardly anyone relates to my experience, so if I don’t carve out this time to write about it, then I am neither recording nor processing it. 
Tonight, in between preparing tomorrow’s coursework, I realize that I have an unprecedented number of questions about life, which startles me because typically I have the answers or at least have a goal in mind that launches me into the next phase of life or contextualizes the current one. These goals, often rooted in this capitalistic framework, in this falsity of “needing” to advance my career as a means of helping people, distract me from asking myself the existential questions, the reasons for why we live and what we fundamentally want our systems to look like; they have distracted me from real grassroots community organizing until now. They distract me from the fact that, like John Mayer, I don’t know which walls to smash; similarly, I don’t know which train to board. Right now feels like we are living through impossible and hopeless times and I don’t want to placate myself into thinking otherwise despite my relatively optimistic outlook on life. As we face catastrophic circumstances – the consequences of this election and climate change (famine, refugees, lack of resources) – I do not want to live in perpetual sadness. I am searching for clarity and direction so I can step into a better, fuller version of myself. 
It’s now 3:33 a.m. Here is the list of questions that I have often asked myself in different stages of life, but recently, until now, I have not been willing to confront for fear that I might not be able to answers them. But I owe it to myself to pose them here so I can have the overdue conversation, the one I know leads me to better understanding myself:
Are you happy? Why or why not?
What do you want the future to hold? What groundwork are you going to do to ensure it happens?
What does your ideal day/week/month/year/decade look like? Why?
With whom do you want to spend your days? Why?
Who do you love and care about? Have you told people you care about that you love them? Does love and vulnerability scare you?
What do you expect of people – of yourself, of your partner, of your family, and of your friends? Should you have those expectations? Why or why not?
What do you feel and why?
What relaxes you? What scares you? What brings you joy?
What do you want to improve? Why?
What do you want to forgive yourself for and why?
Does the desire to reinvent yourself diminish your ability to be present?
Do you have a greater fear of failure or success? Why?
How do you escape the confines of this broken system? How do you break from the guilt of participation in it and having benefited from it?
How do we reconcile our daily lives with the fact that we’re living through an extinction event? This one comes from my friend (hi Jeanne) and a podcast she listened to recently.
How do you help people? How do you help yourself? Are you pouring from an empty cup?
How will you find joy in your everyday responsibilities, in the mission you have chosen for yourself? What, if any, will be the warning signs to walk away from this work, in part or in its entirety? Without being a martyr, do you believe in dying for the cause?
So here are some of the lessons I have learned during this quarantine/past year:
“I’ve Got Dreams to Remember,” so do not take your eyes off them. Chasing paper does not bring you happiness.
Be autonomous, particularly in your professional life.
Focus on values instead of accolades.
Do everything with intention and honest energy.
Listen to Tracy Chapman’s “Crossroads” & Talkin’ Bout a Revolution for an energy boost and reminder that other revolutionaries have shared and continue to share your fervent passion . . . “I’m trying to protect what I keep inside, all the reasons why I live my life” . . . When self-doubt nearly cripples you and you yearn a few minutes to run away when in reality you can’t escape your responsibilities, go for a drive and queue up “Fast Car” . . . “I got no plans, I ain’t going nowhere, so take your fast car and keep on driving.”
With that said, take every opportunity to travel (you can take the work with you if absolutely necessary). Go to Italy. Buy the concert ticket and lose yourself in the moment. Remember that solo excursions are equally as important as collective ones. But, from personal experience, you prefer the company. Find the balance.
Detach from the numbers people keep trying to assign to measure your personhood.
Closely examine the people in your inner circle and ask them for help when you need it.
“And life is just too short to keep playing the game . . . because if you really want somebody [or something], you’ll figure it out later, or else you will just spend the rest of the night with a BlackBerry on your chest hoping it goes *vibration, vibration*” (John Mayer’s Edge of Desire) . . . so love fiercely and unapologetically.
Be specific.
Go to therapy even when life is good.
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norgestan · 4 years ago
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Thank you for taking the time to give such an in-depth response and I appreciated reading your thoughts. However, I think you might have misunderstood me, because my point was actually similar to what you are saying—the scene *itself* is nearly identical to many of the other versions and on its own probably wouldn’t really be seen as a problem because of course media can portray ignorant characters who don’t have all of the answers. +
BUT, the scene didn’t occur in a vacuum. The context of the view of pansexuality in Spain and how many of the fans/the cast are openly panphobic can’t just be separated out and treated like it doesn’t have any bearing on why some people have grown to dislike skam espana. It’s the skames fans who act like the scene should be judged on its own and that the background of how Spain views the discourse should be ignored, and if you are able to keep the context separate, then that’s great for you. But my point was that it’s not realistic to expect that everyone, especially skamverse fans who identify as pan, to not judge that scene and the show as a whole based on the full picture. You don’t have to agree with me, obviously. But I’m trying to share a view that many of you seem to want to overlook so that you can just pretend people are being hypocrites. (3/3)
hmm anon, it might be both of us having problems with understanding each other, because what you say in these asks is the very thing that i've been repeating for the last week.
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moreover, the people who have recently spoken on the issue LITERALLY have justified the scene in terms of the lgbt culture in spain, and not in spite of it. meaning that theh fully accept that as you said, the show doesn't exist in a vacuum.
answering these kind of asks in particular has been stressing because 1) i'm not spanish nor familiar with its lgbt culture, 2) i don't wanna dip into lgbt discourse that i'm really not that familiar with, and 3) i don't want and have never planned to be the voice of the entire skames fandom. i'm pretty sure lots of people either disagree with me or think differently. i'm not familiar with everything that has happened and continues to happen in regards of this issue, and therefore i can't step in and apologize in behalf of everyone.
if anything, your ask really highlights the issue that i have brought up for the last week. when it comes to fans and cast/creators sticking to a remake decision that harms a underrepresented group, lots of remakes can get a pass. on twitter, og and skamfr and wtfock and druck and skamau and skamnl fans often criticize the aspects that have clearly harmed/invalidated a certain group: antiblackness, lgbtphobia, racism, islamophobia, misogyny, and so on and so forth. which mind you, it's a very standard and level-headed way to approach a piece of media, and like, good for her, whatever. but skames' only major fuck ups are the pansexuality discussion and lack of body and race diversity in the show, compared to way bigger offenses done by other remakes, and somehow people have deemed that enough to collectively agree not to give the remake any chance, completely trash its reputation online so they drive new fans away from it, and straight up "cancel" it.
like, you don't like skames? sure, you don't have to watch it. have any plotlines offended you to the point where you've chosen not to watch it anymore? understandable, you don't have to watch it. have the cast/creators or the fandom driven you away from it for x or y reason? completely valid, you don't have to watch it. and we both fully agree on that point. but i do think that the pansexual thing can be at the same level of let's say, skamfr and wtfock's antiblackness, yet that has never been a reason to treat said remakes like the scum of earth. and i could list more examples, but i'm guessing you can get the point now. the COLLECTIVE decision to completely discredit and trash skam españa and the people who enjoy it is simply excessive. want to warn new viewers of the things that have happened? by all means, do it. but as i've seen it, it's way more than just that, what happens in certain skamverse fandom circles.
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sticky-nits · 4 years ago
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The Story of the Reclusive Mule
As written down sometime after the event by Matt’s Cousin.
In the early days of the band, we travelled much of the world - not gigging, that was only secondary at the time. To even call us a band when this story is set may be somewhat inappropriate, and a little overly optimistic. In fact, we were not much more than scraggly buskers, unkempt and out of work court jesters hoping to please a few passers-by to afford a scrap of food to placate the grumbles of our bellies that we thought of as band members plagued with Tourette’s. We were only just at the very beginning, just starting to write songs, still yet to develop our sound, still to refine our act to something that someone may wish to occupy their spare time with rather than gambling, drinking, smoking opium, or sleeping with porcelain skinned concubine, being the popular past times of the age.
No, our main purpose, our mission, our raison d’etre as it were, was enlightenment. We had studied the religions and beliefs from all corners of the earth, read the time-worn scriptures and volumes of thinkers past, listened to some of the most respected gurus of the generation, and considered the views of the noted men and women of all the intangible professions, be they religious, philosophical, scientific, artistic, or just plain mad.
It was in a foothill some thousand feet above sea level overlooking an Okinawan prefecture when we had an encounter that would change our very lives and, needless to say, the very future course of our musical aspirations. We had just finished supping on a veritable feast of fresh assorted shellfish and purple sweet potato that was afforded to us by a travelling group of Buddhist monks who had recently received a bountiful token of gratitude from the local warlord who had been quite impressed with their philosophical enunciations and sedating chants. Although of course the Buddhists wanted nothing in return for their philanthropical generosity, we felt indebted, and indeed quite compelled, to play them some songs that they may enjoy before their routine meditation prior to retiring for the night.
We played some of our older material, took some short breaks to chat with the monks, and played some more. During one of the breaks, we got into a discussion with them about the true nature of our journey, our search, our explorative passion for the elusive and intangible grail of enlightenment. Though they were indeed pronounced and unyielding Buddhists, we found them quite amenable in discourse on a wide range of differing belief systems and philosophical view points, and then, to our surprise and incredulity, they had a tale to tell of something that drifted into the unlikely realms of the paranormal. Now whether this tale was a local legend, a myth, a ghost story, or something altogether outside the bounds of categorisation, it kept us entranced as they told it. Now it must be stressed, it is not my intention to reveal to you the peculiar details of this particular tale, and nor could I even share it no matter how much I wanted to. We promised that night that we would never repeat the odd circumstances of their story, and though I have never been in any way especially superstitious in nature, it is like many stories of its kind, told in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, one that comes with a warning, an ominously fatal premonition to any who dare to reveal the secrets of the legend anywhere outside of the myth’s locale of origin.
There is however one element of the story that I do wish to divulge, for it is in fact the element that changed the course of our lives, altered the direction of our musical and creative sensibilities, and is the very reason why I am writing this, and why you are reading it. That element was a character that the monks described as a reclusive Zen Master Samurai. He had no name that any knew of, nor had the monks ever seen him and, judging by the nature of the story that I cannot retell, it would seem anecdotally evident that no person had ever seen him. He was a true man of myth, an unknown legend, a nobody, and a somebody or, again from the nature of the supernatural story, he could have been a ghost, or maybe he didn’t exist at all. ‘Did it matter?’ I remembered asking, as I strummed my guitar. It is often the way with creativity that one can be thinking of something else, or most likely, nothing at all, and have in your hands the tools that facilitate the transfer of artistic creation from the greater collective sub-consciousness to the realm of the senses, the emanation of a tangible quantity into the form of the world from the intangible energy of the universal unformed. It is at moments like this that something unique can be birthed, something it seems that the universe wants to create, in the same way that it wanted to create matter, the same way it wanted to create life, to create us.
In this particular moment, on that particular night, a new song began to stem from my guitar, from my fingers, from my mortal coil’s link to the deathless and the timeless. The other members of the band seemed to be synchronising on the same frequency and joined in on their instruments and we began to create something new, a sound that we as a group had not yet explored, a song that would change us forever, not in the future, not in the past, but now, in the present moment, that night, right where we were. Now whether the nature of the story that we had just heard had any bearing on our sudden creative impulse and our innovative improvisational acuity, I would do best to refer you to the academics to discuss and confer, but what happened next, I can only implore you to take my word, as sure as I stand here today, relating these happenings in honest and impartial writing. As we played, the monks also began to chant, a low drone that united effortlessly and sublimely with our instrument’s tonal discharges. As our music continued and intensified, I felt the whole world opening up around us, our bodies evaporating, our spirits dissolving, combining as one with the environment around us, into the air, into the nothingness. As the music swirled around us and carried up the mountain, we saw a shape moving from a higher elevation, a figure walking down toward us. The monks stopped chanting, leant, and knelt forward on the ground and began whispering, ‘It is him; it is him; he is here…’
As the figure approached nearer, it became clear that it was not a man. It was a four-legged animal, a quadruped in stature and stride. ‘It is his steed; he sends his steed,’ some of the monks whispered. Was it a steed? Who am I to judge, categorise, or possibly even worse, assume? I do know though that it was a beast…a beast of burden…a donkey? An ass? …no, it was a mule.
The animal came right up to us where we were now circled in curiosity and amazement, having finished playing the song to gaze in wonder at our newfound apparition. I would add a note here to say that although I and many others there that night didn’t see it, some of the monks claim they saw a ghostly figure atop the mule, a Zen Master Samurai. I would have to kindly and respectfully say that although these people were devout and near-enlightened Buddhist monks, they were still human, with human minds, human minds that can trick and deceive at any moment, but none more so than in times of extremes, times of unusual and unpredictable circumstances.
The mule stopped and lowered its head. It had strapped lightly to the base of its neck a rolled parchment, a scroll. I cannot tell you a time when I have been more nervous, more anxious, than that moment; how eager I was to know the contents of that scroll, to grasp and understand the meaning that its content possibly held within. One of the monks, outstretched hand shaking like a frightened leaf trembling in exigency from the mere potential thought of wrath from the gods of wind, managed with all his courage and inner resolve to lift the scroll from the beast’s neck and unroll the parchment. He then read:
“Your music…you know how I would describe your music? When foraging for food, always let the hippopotamus go first…unless you're just after the teriyaki beef.”
Now as I’ve said, I can only relate to you part of this tale. The story of some supernatural suspicions I cannot respectfully tell, but I do stand by the tale above, in all its detail, to every aspect. Now whether one believes or doesn’t believe one thing or another is for each and their own, in fact to each their own mind, but suffice to say that as we are all united by the one universal emanation into a form from a formless, it would seem to be of little consequence and much in the realm of triviality to argue over details such as those that seem to haunt our minds on a daily basis. ‘Are our minds even ours?’ you may ask, and if you claim them to be so, how much control do we really have over them? As much as the mind may be said to be a source of trickery, the devil itself even, all I know is, to this day, on that night, I heard an odd tale about a reclusive enlightened man, possibly even a ghost. I did not see a man…I did not see a ghost…but I saw a mule…and its message was not clear.
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rookieskrp · 5 years ago
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ON OOC DRAMA, STRIKES, AND HOW THEY WORK
We know the past week has been a difficult one for Rookies as a whole, so we feel like we’d be doing you guys a disservice to not address it a little. Normally we avoid commenting on drama in Rookies because we want to keep uninvolved parties uninvolved. We like to be the ones wrapped up in drama so you guys don’t have to be, but we believe essentially the entire roleplay has been affected by drama this week, so there’s no reason to keep quiet about it.
First of all, we want to apologize to any members that feel we haven’t represented them well, or like we haven’t properly defended them or helped them enough. This is a criticism we get repeatedly, and honestly, one that hurts us, because we do a lot behind the scenes to deal with every concern brought to us. Have we done enough? We decided this week that we haven’t. Regardless, we want to shed some light on exactly how much effort we put into dealing with drama in RK, not necessarily to defend ourselves, but because we want to be more transparent with you and show you how stuff works in case it will help you.
Our punishment for OOC drama runs on a three strike system, meaning you get two chances, and on your third offense, you’ll be removed from the roleplay. As our rules say, “If you cause a problem OOC and all available staff members unanimously agree, you will earn a strike,“ and that’s intentionally broad. It sounds simple, and maybe it should be more simple than we’ve made it, but it’s actually a complicated process. One of the reasons why is because we must have a unanimous mod consensus, as was already highlighted. This means all seven mods on the team have to vote in a strike trial, share their opinions, and agree. Since everyone has their own lives, everyone tends to type a long paragraph explaining their thoughts behind their vote, and sometimes we disagree, this process alone can take days.
Let’s go back to that one thing I mentioned: strike trial. This is when all seven mods vote either in favor or against a strike for the behavior in question, but we feel like this needs a little more explanation. When an issue is brought to our attention, it is always brought to the attention of the mod chat at large. Sometimes, we can quickly discuss whether we think it’s strike-worthy and agree that it’s not, and that the issue can be solved just by talking to both parties involved. It’s important to note that these issues do add up, and repeated small problems can eventually result in a real deal strike trial and strike. When more serious issues come up, we immediately begin an official strike trial, and the trial is [party one] vs [party two]. It is never just one individual on trial, but both sides involved, and we’re very serious about getting both sides of the story, and forming the third side: the neutral one. Once we agree to start a strike trial, this information goes into our strike trial document, and we begin to collect evidence, which goes into another document containing all evidence for the case. We put all screenshots and messages in order, date them, and make sure the entire timeline is correct, then continuously update the evidence document as more information comes in. Just putting the evidence in the document sometimes takes hours. Since we want to be thorough in our investigations, it takes even longer since we get more and more evidence that needs to be added, and this process only stop when we all feel confident enough in our votes.
Another criticism we receive often is one of favoritism, and we can admit, it’s hard to keep personal issues and pain out of voting against people that have caused drama. Thankfully, we have seven different mods with different friend circles and different opinions to curb that, and we also try to remain as neutral as we possibly can; in the past some of us have even refrained from voting if we feel like we can’t be unbiased about the issue. We try to keep personal issues and personal experience with the muns in question out of our votes, being entirely professional, or at least we used to. We’ve endured a lot of, quite frankly, abuse from the community doing this, and while we’ll still continue to put everyone else’s feelings above our own, in the case that we are continuously disrespected and hurt by someone, that will count as evidence into a strike trial too, even if it’s evidence we don’t count as highly as the rest we receive. There comes a point where we have to draw a line, and if someone has hurt us so much, it becomes hard to believe they haven’t done the same to others in the community.
We’ll pause here to say this is not a post calling out anyone in particular, even if that may seem the case, but this is an issue with multiple people in Rookies. Now, we’ll go back to the criticism of us not doing anything, and say we’re determined for that to change. In the past, we’ve worried about being too harsh with disciplinary action, and scaring our members that don’t have anything to be afraid of, but we believe the positives of being harsher vastly outweigh the negatives. Rest assured, the strike system will stay, and we’ll still continue to be as loving in dealing with these issues as we can, but not at the expense of the truth like we may have in the past. We know you’ve heard this vow to be more serious often from us, and we apologize for that too, but with the firepower two new mods have brought to us, and the experience all these years have given us, we feel prepared to act more proactively on behalf of the community, regardless of the blowback we’ll receive. There may be a bit of a learning curve with this, so please be patient with us as you will, and know we’ll always do our best to act with your best interests in mind.
It’s also important to note that in strike trials, neutral opinions are some of the most important to us. When drama reaches people that are uninvolved with either side and they come to us sharing their thoughts and their distress, that compels us into further action, so if you ever see something in RK that makes you uncomfortable, please come forward. We know there’s been a lot of discourse about us being untrustworthy, and we can’t and won’t force anyone to feel favorably about us. People may feel that we haven’t helped them, but we definitely can’t help people that won’t come forward. Please bring as much evidence as you can to us when you approach us about an issue, and we hope that we can prove different to those that don’t believe in us any longer. We’ll try our best to.
With all of this in mind, we acknowledge that RK hasn’t been a very healthy environment, at least this week, if not for a long time, and we accept our hand in that. It’s been very difficult to work out a solution, but we believe we’re coming closer to one, and we hope as we continue to keep to what we said today, you’ll notice positive change. That being said, we want to remind everyone that this is only roleplay. Real work and feelings are involved, but at the end of the day, this is supposed to be a hobby and something fun. Please don’t prioritize Rookies above your mental health and wellbeing, although believe us, we know it’s easier said than done. If the negatives of being here outweigh the positives for you to be here, it may really be the best decision for you to leave, and we don’t say that because we want people to leave, but because we care about you guys beyond the scope of KRP, and want you to be happy not just here, but in your real lives. If Rookies isn’t a part of that happiness, we’ll support you in leaving us, and we’ll be here should that change.
Even though this week might’ve been a little earth-shaking, beyond all of this, we don’t intend for Rookies to change. We’re still the same mods you know and (hopefully) love, and Rookies will be the same roleplay it’s been for nearly six years. We can’t and won’t promise it’ll be a perfect and always happy place going forward, and will say right now that sunshine takes a little rain, and when things are at their worst, you can’t have peace without a war. Please bear with us, and know we’ll be fighting to do our best for the community at large every step of the way. We’ll get through it all together!
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tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 6 years ago
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Trinkets, Books, 4: An eclectic library of dusty tomes, fictional textbooks, pocketbooks, paperbacks, hardcovers, booklets, leaflets and magical manuals. Paper leaves and the binding surrounding them can help define a character, kick off a subplot, fuel a fetch quest or simply serve as a generic macguffin. Commonly seen in video games such as Baldur’s Gate, Neverwinter Nights, World of Warcraft and Skyrim, book items are a way to subtly world build while still handing out sellable loot. A wizard has a spellbook, a cleric has a holy text and now you have a trinket list.
Centaurs; The Life and Ways of Our Least Recognized Insects: A young scholar's dissertation explaining how centaurs are insects based mostly on the preposition that they each have three sets of limbs. The simply bound document takes itself seriously and is well written and meticulously sourced, even knowledgeable PC’s would be hard pressed to find logical arguments against the paper’s main thesis. There is no foreword and it is unknown if this work is meant to be some sort of scholarly joke or if it was some kind of malicious compliance from a frustrated student towards the professor who served as thesis adviser.
The Sauce-erers Handbook: A waterproof oilskin case containing a small pocketbook with 101 delicious arcane condiments and advice on how to collect them and best incorporate them into meals.
A small book bound in red leather that gives instructions on how to properly pet a house cat. It is surprisingly long and one pages appears to have been written in blood. The page in question says “How to pet a cat's belly... - DON'T!”.
A suspiciously plain book with no outward markings and whose title “You Say You Want a Revolution?” is only apparently on the inside of the binding. The book contains a range of ideological ideas, songs and arguments loaded with logical fallacies, all meant to incite unrest and rebellion. Also contained are a surprising amount of catchy, lyrical songs that promote freedom, choice and liberation and decry the tyrannical oppression of authority.
The Tao of Fu Leng: A book bound in the skin of humanoid creatures, emblazoned with the symbol of a spider, with smaller symbols creating a strange, interlocking pattern that seemed to trickle down the page. When a creature takes their eyes away from it, the symbols seemed to crawl in their peripheral vision. The book is a discourse on philosophy, a rationalization of the most terrible acts and thoughts a mortal mind could conceive. It speaks of actively furthering the goals of the Gods of Evil. Even standing in the book's presence for long periods of time can be dangerous for a creature's moral compass.
The 13 Habits of Highly Effective Necromancers: A self help scroll penned by author Stephanus D. Coeuvry that presents a holistic, integrated, power-centered approach for solving problems with necromancy and the black arts. With dark humor and a blatant disregard for morality, Coeuvry reveals a step-by-step plan for raising your own undead army, plus tried and tested methods for handling standard problems like finding fresh corpses and dealing with pitchfork-wielding peasants.
A journal written by a sea captain about the fictionalized romances of the ship's cat and what he imagined the cat got up to on shore leave.
Encyclopedia of the Anvil: A heavy book with covers of stone, bound together with iron rings. Even to the untrained eye, this book seems to be of exceptional quality. Each page is richly illuminated, with orderly black-on-white lettering interspersed with intricate geometric designs and diagrams. The Encyclopedia is a legendary collection of works over the years by an unknown master dwarven wizard. With typical dwarven ingenuity and discipline, she applied herself to cataloging magic with the same intensity of focus that a master smith would bring to a life-long masterwork.
A large tome titled "My Way of Mischief". Every entry seems to be written by a different person about a mischievous deed that they've done while they possessed the book. There is one blank page left.
A pocket journal bound in sturdy leather bearing an extremely highly detailed drawing of Yggdrasil, the cosmic, plane-spanning, world tree on the first page. The tree’s branches spread throughout the book, forming lines for writing. Though the book seems to consist of relatively few pages, when flipping through them one at a time, they seem to continue forever.
—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.
—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.
Centaurs; The Life and Ways of Our Least Recognized Insects: A young scholar's dissertation explaining how centaurs are insects based mostly on the preposition that they each have three sets of limbs. The simply bound document takes itself seriously and is well written and meticulously sourced, even knowledgeable PC’s would be hard pressed to find logical arguments against the paper’s main thesis. There is no foreword and it is unknown if this work is meant to be some sort of scholarly joke or if it was some kind of malicious compliance from a frustrated student towards the professor who served as thesis adviser.
The Sauce-erers Handbook: A waterproof oilskin case containing a small pocketbook with 101 delicious arcane condiments and advice on how to collect them and best incorporate them into meals.
A small book bound in red leather that gives instructions on how to properly pet a house cat. It is surprisingly long and one pages appears to have been written in blood. The page in question says “How to pet a cat's belly... - DON'T!”.
A suspiciously plain book with no outward markings and whose title “You Say You Want a Revolution?” is only apparently on the inside of the binding. The book contains a range of ideological ideas, songs and arguments loaded with logical fallacies, all meant to incite unrest and rebellion. Also contained are a surprising amount of catchy, lyrical songs that promote freedom, choice and liberation and decry the tyrannical oppression of authority.
The Tao of Fu Leng: A book bound in the skin of humanoid creatures, emblazoned with the symbol of a spider, with smaller symbols creating a strange, interlocking pattern that seemed to trickle down the page. When a creature takes their eyes away from it, the symbols seemed to crawl in their peripheral vision. The book is a discourse on philosophy, a rationalization of the most terrible acts and thoughts a mortal mind could conceive. It speaks of actively furthering the goals of the Gods of Evil. Even standing in the book's presence for long periods of time can be dangerous for a creature's moral compass.
The 13 Habits of Highly Effective Necromancers: A self help scroll penned by author Stephanus D. Coeuvry that presents a holistic, integrated, power-centered approach for solving problems with necromancy and the black arts. With dark humor and a blatant disregard for morality, Coeuvry reveals a step-by-step plan for raising your own undead army, plus tried and tested methods for handling standard problems like finding fresh corpses and dealing with pitchfork-wielding peasants.
A journal written by a sea captain about the fictionalized romances of the ship's cat and what he imagined the cat got up to on shore leave.
Encyclopedia of the Anvil: A heavy book with covers of stone, bound together with iron rings. Even to the untrained eye, this book seems to be of exceptional quality. Each page is richly illuminated, with orderly black-on-white lettering interspersed with intricate geometric designs and diagrams. The Encyclopedia is a legendary collection of works over the years by an unknown master dwarven wizard. With typical dwarven ingenuity and discipline, she applied herself to cataloging magic with the same intensity of focus that a master smith would bring to a life-long masterwork.
A large tome titled "My Way of Mischief". Every entry seems to be written by a different person about a mischievous deed that they've done while they possessed the book. There is one blank page left.
A pocket journal bound in sturdy leather bearing an extremely highly detailed drawing of Yggdrasil, the cosmic, plane-spanning, world tree on the first page. The tree’s branches spread throughout the book, forming lines for writing. Though the book seems to consist of relatively few pages, when flipping through them one at a time, they seem to continue forever.
A large, green leather-bound book with an embossed red triquetra on the cover. The book seems quite old but is only somewhat worn and is almost completely intact. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as a witch's book of shadows.  
A travel journal bound in tanned human skin and bleached bits of bone, locked with a black iron clasp in the shape of a demon's head. The clasp can only be unlocked by a creature who has sold their soul to a demon. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as a warlock's grimoire.
A small brown leather bound book entitled "The Coffee Table Book". It details various males and styles of coffee tables including how to build some.
A picture book filled with watercolour paintings of various species of turtles. The beautiful calligraphy scrawled at the bottom of each page tells incorrect facts about each one.
Tome of the Searing Flame: A book whose covers are made from iron that constantly feel hot to the touch and inlaid with rubies and shards of igneous rock that seem to glow with the power of elemental fire. The pages appear to be made from lava that is perfectly safe to touch. The book can weather even the most powerful of flames entirely unscathed, as it has been recorded to have spent at least a decade immersed in the magma of an active volcano, before being forced out in a river of lava when it erupted. The book contains intricate descriptions of many powerful beings of elemental fire, along with descriptions of countless creatures of elemental fire, from fire elementals to magmins. The book is held shut by a clasp shaped to look like a flickering flame. Knowledgeable PC's are aware that this is one of the five legendary works written by an ancient elven wizard known as Xaturos the Illuminator. For five hundred years, Xaturos scoured the four Elemental Planes and the Astral Plane seeking lost knowledge before supposedly settling in the Astral Plane, though countless conflicting tales of the wizard's whereabouts abound, mixed in with tales of his death.
A small handbook book filled with tips on how to charm your mother in law.
A small book containing a poorly written ghost story about a haunted thimble that pinches thumbs.
A small scrap book from an autumnal season well over a century ago. Each page holds several beautiful leaves preserved at their peak colour. They are lovely colours and shades ranging from bright yellow to a rusty red.
A rattan journal that contains only mad ravings and disturbing scribbles of nightmarish horrors. The author's identity is not revealed nor hinted at, however knowledgeable PC's will recognize enough arcane runes and sigils to deduce that the writer was a powerful if mad spellcaster.
A large book with a hand-painted cover depicting a king eating a child's leg. The story in the book tells a morbid tale of an ancient king that would eat disobedient children.
Taming of the Flumphs: A heartwarming tale about a child's escape from the Underdark.
The Tome of MissSpelling: A cautionary primer for mages about the dangers of not carefully practicing the pronunciation of certain incantations.
Mommy, Where Do Monsters Come From?: A comprehensive guide (Including illustrations.) to the mating rituals of abominations, aberrations, monstrosities and extraplanar beasts.
Just Muddin Around: A dirty pocket book of earth elemental smut.
Does Wild-Shape Count As A Concealed Weapon?: A comprehensive guide to a druid's right to bear arms.
Djinn and Tonic: A strange reference guide to summoning genies and basic bartending.
A Hag Ate My Baby!: A generically evil looking book for older children, containing an assortment of cliche horror stories.
Tome of the Roaring Ocean: A book whose covers are made from coral that constantly feels cool to the touch and inlaid with sapphires and assorted marine animal parts, such as scales and teeth that seem to glow with the power of elemental water. The pages are made from surprisingly robust kelp. The book can weather even the most powerful of chills entirely unscathed, as it has been recorded to have spent at least a decade trapped within a freezing river in the middle of a glacier. The book contains intricate descriptions of many powerful beings of elemental water, along with descriptions of countless creatures of elemental water, from water elementals to ice mephits. The book is held shut by a clasp shaped to look like droplets of water. Knowledgeable PC's are aware that this is one of the five legendary works written by an ancient elven wizard known as Xaturos the Illuminator. For five hundred years, Xaturos scoured the four Elemental Planes and the Astral Plane seeking lost knowledge before supposedly settling in the Astral Plane, though countless conflicting tales of the wizard's whereabouts abound, mixed in with tales of his death.
A foul smelling collection of short children's stories entitled “Tales Of A Troglodyte Named Thomas The Truthful”.
Help, My Child Is An Adventurer!: A thin paperback that serves as a quick guide on self-defense for the concerned parents of heroes and adventures who are prone to making grudge carrying enemies by the score. It mostly focuses on buying a crossbow, changing your name and moving on a regular basis.
Encyclopedia of Arcane Terminology (Volumes 1, 2 and 3): A trio of volumes that explains magical ideas and terminology in layman's terms. The descriptions on the book's back covers describes them best: "Want to astonish your friends with your knowledge? Want to woo the well-travelled mage that just popped into town with that group of adventurers? Want to finally be able to say Thaumaturgy without tying your tongue? This is your book!
A reference book entitled “Cantrips and You: A Beginners Guide”. The dogeared pages are heavily worn and there are handwritten notes in the margins of the pages.
A lightweight handbook entitled “Rogues Guide to Rooftop Running.” The edition is water damaged and a significant amount of ink has run through the pages making it difficult to read.
A strangely constructed periodical entitled “Druids Staff Quarterly”. The book's covers are made from tree bark and the rough leather pages are bound to it with dried vines.  
A bound collection of pamphlets written by a mermaid with a political agenda entitled “Fish are Friends, NOT Food”.
A book entitled “Poetry in Motion” that explains in lovingly rich detail the history of a specific martial art and its growth from origin to its modern use. The book has detailed calligraphy of many of the fighting forms as well as examples of how they are used.
A book entitled “These Furry Fellas” filled with advice for hunting and tracking woodland animals. The book is crudely bound in animal hide, some of which still has fur remaining.
A suspiciously plain book with no outward markings and whose title “Time Tested Tricks of Tongue Fighting” is only apparently on the inside of the binding. The book is a collection of advice, tips and tricks for how to win verbal arguments, discussions and shouting matches with the opposite sex (It has an equal amount of advice for both men and women) along with a surprising amount of suggestions on how to become a better kisser.
A self help book entitled “When Life Gives You Lemons”. The book is mostly unreadable as its center has been deliberately hollowed out to make room for a small box containing a Random Ring.
A leather bound book whose title “Nock, Draw, Loose!” is prominently branded on its front. Casual perusal reveals it to be a field archer's manual outlying precise instructions on how to create, maintain and modify bows, bowstrings and arrows with minimal resources while in the field.  
A small handbook entitled “CAMPFIRE COOKING: 101 Recipes for the Hungry Adventurer”. It's covering is missing and the pages are bound with string woven through holes near the spine.
A collection of erotic short stories all centered around an intelligent and sexually liberated woman, insultingly titled “The Village Bike”. A simple inspection of the back cover reveals it was written by a lonely bachelor and self described “Nice guy”.  
A foul book known as the “Liber Bubonicus” which is inscribed with the clandestine lores of corrupt magic, and contains an overview of every disease, pest and plague in the world. The inside of the book is stamped with the holy symbol of the God of Pestilence, Plagues and Disease. Perhaps not surprisingly, there is not a single line of text that speaks of how to treat diseases, exterminate pests or cure plagues.
A mage's grimoire which contains an obscure philosophical treatise on ritual magic which verges on the senseless due to bad translation.
A small travel handbook filled with dozens of dichotomous keys of lizards, reptiles and amphibians in rarely traveled parts of the world.
Corin Tasslefoot's Recipe Book: A simply bound book decorated with a border of green vines. This homely book is a set of family recipes from a humble halfling farmer. He wrote down recipes from his extended family, including his great-grandmother. The meals are generally wholesome rustic food but despite that are delicious, filling, and sustaining. There are a number of recipes for travel food, from way bread and travel rations to making a good meal from the land.
A pocket sized book that graphically details the random adventures of a royal huntsman.
The Pillow Book of Date Momoko: A beautifully illustrated scroll that you wouldn't take home to your mother. It is beautifully created, written on exquisitely prepared paper and the illustrations are exquisite. But let's just say that people have been known to spontaneously combust while reading it. The High Priest of Eros said it was "A bit much...". The High Priestess ran off with her copy and hasn't been seen since. However, if there are questions about bedroom ... matters that you wish addressed, well, somewhere in this scroll I'm sure it will be. In detail. With diagrams. And, some say, maths. There is a story running throughout, of a young bride-to-be asking her female relatives for advice on her upcoming wedding night.
A richly illuminated, leather-bound manuscript of local history.
The Ballad of Barrik and Theda: A new book recounting old dwarvish tales from the dwarvish historian Torgrim Stonehalter recounts in vivid detail the doomed adventures of Barrik and Theda the legendary dwarvish heroes and lovers of a past age. Stonehalter presents new evidence (Found in the ruins of the library at Tornikkberg) that Theda was indeed the real leader of the duo, taking initiative in slaying the dragon Baazthys, and that Barrik's devotion to Theda may not have been as unwavering as the tales and songs would have you believe.
More Tales from Beyond the Veil: A sequel to a popular religious book. Brother Calymus takes his readers further into the Spirit Realm with a new collection of stories and essays to follow up his first. Each of these focuses on a first-hand account of the journey from life to death told to Calymus by a ghost, a resurrected individual or a soul called forth from the other realms. Critics suggest Calymus sensationalizes the tales a bit to make death sound more frightening than it is, to which he challenges them to explore death on their own and then come back to talk about it.
Scroll of Rhythm: A mostly useless magical scroll in a decorative case. When someone versed in arcane magic reads this scroll, they can't help but start speaking in rhythm, snapping their fingers, and tapping their toes. The words start rhyme as the reader marks the time, and all those who are near can't resist the beat they hear. They start to bounce and dance as if they're in a trance. It only lasts a minute til the reader reaches the end. Then the scroll disappears back into its case, and all is as before.
Proper Methods of Dress, and Other Pressing Issues, Fourth Edition: A quaint etiquette guide of Domoic origin goes into great detail on exactly how a gentleman or noblewoman of proper breeding should look, act, and think. Notably, more than fifty pages are dedicated to how many waistcoat buttons should be buttoned according to time of day. This edition begins with a blaring notice that, following the Petticoat Massacre, it is now considered an unforgivable faux pas to allow one's coattails to flap in the wind. A new sartorial device called a "Tail Stiffener" is essential for anyone wishing to make a good impression.
A torn and tattered book that gives step-by-step instructions on how to establish dominance in jail amongst other prisoners.
Tome of the Tearing Gale: A book whose covers are made from extremely thin sheets of electrum that are far stronger than they appear and inlaid with emeralds and feathers that seem to glow with the power of elemental air. The pages appear to be made from clouds, though they don't disperse, remaining within the boundaries of the book at all times. The book can weather even the most powerful of storms entirely unscathed, as it has been recorded to have spent at least a decade trapped within a gigantic tornado, before being ripped out by a wild roc. The book contains intricate descriptions of many powerful beings of elemental air, along with descriptions of countless creatures of elemental air, from air elementals to invisible stalkers. The book is held shut by a clasp shaped like a cloud. Knowledgeable PC's are aware that this is one of the five legendary works written by an ancient elven wizard known as Xaturos the Illuminator. For five hundred years, Xaturos scoured the four Elemental Planes and the Astral Plane seeking lost knowledge before supposedly settling in the Astral Plane, though countless conflicting tales of the wizard's whereabouts abound, mixed in with tales of his death.
Fanwen's Funney Joaks: A satirical publication by a local troublemaker Fanwen Grist who has discovered a lucrative career peddling his crude humor to the lower classes, selling new collections of jokes, lewd stories, and new slang whenever his coffers run a bit low. While writing this issue, Fanwen seems to have become particularly amused by the upper crust's recent obsession with an accessory called a "Tail Stiffener."
A decently sized tome with a hastily drawn picture of a hawk on the leather bound cover. The book is filled with nonsensical paragraphs on the nature of hawks and its obvious that whoever created this had an unhealthy obsession with avian raptors.
A diary once belonging to the reclusive lich Xerichides. This one volume of many is a personal account of the undead mage's lengthy battle with an unknown hero. After reading the entire diary, an intelligent PC may be able to piece together the location where the hero is still trapped in an imprisonment spell and the conditions to free them.
Trimple, Primple, Prample and Zot: A collection of works by Gilathil Greenleaf that originally became madly popular exclusively among people who could not speak elvish, captivated by the poet's soothing rhymes, wondering what deep mysteries such beautiful language must contain. Those who know Elvish, of course, know that the poems are nothing more than meaningless gibberish, words made up exclusively for their aesthetic sound. The popularity of this book in human lands is yet another reason elves tend to look down upon "lesser peoples."
A tiny, hand drawn flip book showing a knight running from a Beholder.
Kalathraxas and the Basilisk's Eye: A small pulp children's adventure novel that is the fourth installment in the series. According to the synopsis printed on the back of the book: “Kalathraxas, The Good Necromancer, has succeeded in defeating the evil Pelfanus, but now he faces his greatest enemy: himself. Can Kal overcome the geas cast upon him by a rival wizard and prevent the Basilisk's Eye from falling into the wrong hands?”.
The Fall of the Haloan Empire: A historical text that, on the surface appears to merely be a recounting of the opulent Haloan Empire's fall from power centuries ago. Knowledgeable PC's are aware that some scholars claim, that careful analysis reveals it as a scathing commentary on the notoriously corrupt court of King Judicus, written in code to keep the author from harm.
Lelesh Voth: A thick, bound book that is locked by magic and only unlocks itself when touched by a creature capable of casting magical spells. The tome's arcane title translates to common as "The Power of Pacifism." Should one find a way to open the book's magical lock, they will find that the book's pages have been carved out to make room for a magically sharp dagger with a golden hilt.
The Wise Wizard's Guide to Fireball Safety: A mage's instructional text that is another in Germund the Scholar's Wise Wizard's Guide to series of spell manuals. This copy looks like the binding has never even been cracked, but the edges of the pages are singed, and the back cover has been entirely burned off.
Incomes & Expenditures, Council Treasury, vol. 343: A relatively recent financial ledger, with hundreds of pages of densely-packed tables of numbers and brief descriptions. It would take weeks to comb through this information, even for someone with extensive knowledge of the Council's financial practices, but surely there's no need to scrutinize things so closely.
101 Magical Tips for the Busy Housewife: A thick, cheaply printed pamphlet, the contents of which largely consists of its overly long introduction, which tells the reader how to harness "mental magic" and wield "the ancient arts" to maintain a tidier home. Despite these promises, the pamphlet teaches absolutely nothing that's magical in nature; rather, the final six pages are merely a hastily written list of general (And mundane) housekeeping tips, such as "Sweep your entranceway daily, to keep dirt from getting tracked about the house." Several of the tips are duplicates, as well; the total number of unique tips is actually closer to eighty.
On the Anatomy of Goblinoid Bodies: A medical text bound in leather with the title branded into the spine. It is an exhaustive exploration of the bodies of goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears, this is the life's work of Barber Stanwen Nolik. It appears highly reputable, but no other surgeon has ever been willing to replicate Nolik's work.
The Herbalist's Guide to Tea: A small illustrated guide complied by Anthony Crispaen, the Earl of Grey, who was an enthusiastic herbalist and alchemist. He collected all his findings and those of the druidic circles of Grey in his writings, illustrated by an artist passing through town by chance. Unfortunately the artist accidentally confused Lady's Smock with Nightshade, and the Earl died shortly after tea time the day he published the book.
Barbarian's Cookbook: A hidebound book for illiterate cooks that has lots of pictures and simple recipes, mostly meat.
Scroll of Common Nonsense: A tightly rolled scroll full of useless information. Anyone reading this scroll can almost understand it, but nobody really agrees on what it says.
The Wisdom of King Judicus: A book containing more than a dozen fables and tales meant to impart life lessons for all members of the kingdom, each one is short and easily memorized. Some of the most famous examples include The Audacious Honeybee, which describes the dangers of trying to rise above your station in life, and the grisly cautionary tale of The Dog Who Betrayed His Master for a Bone.
The Codex of Unspeakable Damnation: An old and highly-sought treatise on mastering chaos. Within its blasphemous pages are instructions on drawing power from human sacrifice, a variety of dangerous rituals, advice for using black magic, details on the minions of Chaos, and a guide to founding cults. It’s not known who penned this book, but its pages are all carefully illuminated with perverse images framing each page.
An instructional book on how to laugh convincingly and emote properly when uncomfortable.
Tome of the Unending Expanse: A book whose covers are made from purple fabric that feels as sturdy as a thick sheet of iron and inlaid with diamonds and pieces of wool that seem to glow with the power of the Astral Plane. The pages are made from tangible sheets of purple energy that are indescribable to touch. The book can weather even the most powerful of arcane energies entirely unscathed, as it has been recorded to have spent at least a decade trapped within a maelstrom of magical power on the Astral Plane, before being flung out by an errant blast of energy. The book contains intricate descriptions of many powerful beings that inhabit the Astral Plane, along with descriptions of countless creatures that dwell within the Astral Plane. The book is held shut by a clasp shaped like a rectangle. Knowledgeable PC's are aware that this is one of the five legendary works written by an ancient elven wizard known as Xaturos the Illuminator. For five hundred years, Xaturos scoured the four Elemental Planes and the Astral Plane seeking lost knowledge before supposedly settling in the Astral Plane, though countless conflicting tales of the wizard's whereabouts abound, mixed in with tales of his death.
Celestine Book of Divination: A cursory glance through this tome reveals little, and is harmless. However, any serious effort to examine the work, to piece together the curious blend of prophecy and gibberish, to sift through the meaningless nonsense to arrive at the kernels of truth, can drive a reader insane. As disturbing as the book is, most scholars see the volume as nothing more than the ravings of a madman and so discount it.
The Catalogue of Flesh: An incredible index of all things demonic. Each page is devoted to some new horror conjured forth from the dark imaginings of the ruinous powers of evil. Unsurprisingly the volume’s pages are vellum made from delicate skin with covers of thick leather bound together braided sinew, all of human origin.
Book of Secrets: A massive tome consisting of red leather and steel fittings which protect the pale vellum pages inside. The exterior is covered in strange glyphs and runes of the arcane language of magic. Those who can read magic get a sense of what this volume contains, the exploitation of magical energy in its many forms for the reader’s personal gain.
Kenku's Book of Insults: An old book hailing from a... less peaceable era. Earmarked by use and yellowed from time, this book was compiled by long ago by a rude Kenku who needed a reservoir of mean names to call people. Filled with slander and derision, the book over time absorbed the wickedness of those who provided it material as well as the anger of those who it was used against. Some claim they can hear the faint sound of cackling as they turn its pages. Any creature who opens the book in anger with a specific creature in mind will find a particularly vicious insult that is perfectly suited for that foe. The presented insults are always mean-spirited and never bear a playful or joking tone.
A pink notebook filled with diary entries from a young elvish girl.
The Great Book of Grudges: An ancient book passed down through the ages from one dwarven high king to the next. It was last held by the reigning high king, Thorgrim Grudgebearer. The Great Book of Grudges is essentially a record of all the terrible wrongs and treacherous deeds ever perpetrated against the dwarf race. The book is written in the blood of dwarfs and only they have the authority to add new grudges or strike out grudges that have been avenged. Essentially, the Book of Grudges amounts to a very detailed but oddly vengeful recorded history of the dwarf race.
An ogre cookbook on the delicate art of cooking humans entitled “To Serve Man”.
The Tome of Current Thought: As a creature reads this book, the pages fill with a running record of whatever the reader happens to be thinking at the moment. For those who are unaware of what they're reading, this can be a terrifying experience as they see their own private thoughts wrought on the page. For instance, should the reader happen to recall an embarrassing memory, it would instantly appear. Oh dear, any horrible memory? Including the time mother caught me alone in the stables? Wait, how does this book know about the time mother caught me alone in the stables? Is this some sort of joke? Who wrote this? How do I stop this?
A mage's guidebook on how to take care of you’re newly acquired magical companion entitled “It’s Familiar, But Not Too Familiar”.
Pop-up Book of Wild Animals: A thick, children’s book that has a simply painted picture of various monsters on its front cover. Each interior page is cleverly rigged so that parts of the pages fold outward in creating a pop-up effect. The book contains just over a dozen pop-up depictions of various natural creatures of the world and a simple poem about each creature it bright cheery colors.
A blank, lightweight journal with an oilskin cover. It contains 50 blank pages.
Necromantic Ethics: A small manual by Gleebones Lemontwig, on how to be a necromancer without doing horrible things to people. This black tome contains the true secrets of necromancy, namely how to use those without committing acts of great evil against others or endanger the caster’s soul. Be it by pragmatism or legal waivers, the reader can learn how to raise the dead without damning themselves to the nine hells to be forever tortured by the souls of those they raised. The book noticeably lacks the ceremonies considered evil by most, such as how to become a Lich or raising an entire army of the undead.
A small, worn, leather pocket book filled with beautiful sketches and watercolour images of unfamiliar landscapes, none of which are signed.
Forging The End; Baron Stoneye's Guide To Creating Your Very Own Apocalypse: A thick tome containing every plan possible on how to end the world. The potentially world ending guide magically updates when a new plan is formed. Penned on the side cover of the book seems to be an advertisement for the shop that the book was sold at and no doubt the source of the magical update. The message reads “Do you seek the end of the world but lack the creativity to do it on your own? Well then my friend seek out this tome, located in Bloodcrown's Books in the underbelly of the Underdark. Do you seek to raise the dread tarrasque from its slumber? Maybe you wish to know the rituals to summon hordes of outsiders ready to rend and tear this world apart. Seek out Bloodcrown's Books, find the tome and set free a plague of apocalypse level events the likes of which this world has never seen.”.
A stiff, seemingly normal hardcover pocket book, that when opened reveals a small compartment that holds a map written in orcish. It has so many spelling and grammatical errors not even those who can read orcish can understand what the map says.
Syn Qutain's Histories of the Middel-South; Edition the Fifth: An original manuscript of the much-reproduced history text, its well-reputed author's final work. The chronicle itself passingly mentions a rumored treasure, artifact, or relic (Commonly believed to be myth.) as though its existence is fact. Perceptive PC’s will notice that the pages are lightly watermarked. When held up to light, terrains and landmarks appear, which anyone familiar with the region may recognize. As the pages are turned, the terrain appears to shift also, finally zooming in and settling on one particular spot, where on the final page the author seems to have accidentally dropped a bit of sealing wax.
A journal decorated with strips of emeralds laid in the pattern of a cat's eye and gilded in gold leaf. It contains a record of a cat burglar's inventory of stolen goods and where they were “obtained”.
The Book of Night: A shadow mage’s grimoire that is difficult to describe, in no small part because looking directly at the artifact is nearly impossible. Casual glances slide straight over the book; it is somewhat possible to get an understanding of what it looks like merely through peripheral vision, but only a concerted effort of extreme willpower can overcome this particular attribute. Once the viewer’s will has been asserted, however, the book's appearance truly manifests itself. The cover is unmarked and black, neither matte nor glossy; simply black. The surface is, furthermore, adorned with silver points of varying size. Should one attempt to move the Book, they will notice that these silver markings move; or, rather, remain fixed relative to the position of the Book. When they reach the edge of the cover, they vanish, and are replaced by others that appear on the opposite edge. A particularly astute observer will note that, when held aloft and compared to the night sky, the markings match the positions of visible stars.
A book bound in scuffed leather with step-by-step instructions and illustrations on how to field dress and butcher common woodland animals.
Tome of the Unrelenting Earth: A book whose covers are made from stone that looks rough yet feels smooth to the touch and inlaid with garnets and small pieces of metal that seem to glow with the power of elemental earth. The pages are made from stone that looks rigid, yet bends as easily as parchment. The book can weather even the most powerful of strikes entirely unscathed, as it has been recorded to have spent at least a decade trapped within the fissure left by an earthquake, before being ripped out by a wandering bulette. The book contains intricate descriptions of many powerful beings of elemental earth, along with descriptions of countless creatures of elemental earth, from earth elementals to xorn. The book is held shut by a clasp shaped like a mountain. Knowledgeable PC's are aware that this is one of the five legendary works written by an ancient elven wizard known as Xaturos the Illuminator. For five hundred years, Xaturos scoured the four Elemental Planes and the Astral Plane seeking lost knowledge before supposedly settling in the Astral Plane, though countless conflicting tales of the wizard's whereabouts abound, mixed in with tales of his death.
An unedited scholar's dissertation on how to tell the difference between a Gnome and a Halfling.
Aerlin's Heirloom: A great, ornate tome in a locked case. The protective case is an elaborate box guarded by a very complicated lock. Through a window of unbreakable glass a huge tome can be seen, bound in leather and trimmed in gold and jewels with an elaborate crest on the cover. The first page of the book is an exquisite etched plate print of a very elderly looking elf nobleman with the name Tabarus Now'nathal scribed under it, and inside the cover is a simple inscription: From All of Us. The next plate is an etching of an elderly elf woman. Neanna Now'nathal, wife. Then three more plates of his two sons and his daughter. Then his seven grandchildren, and his 27 great grandchildren. The faces get younger as the book goes on and it goes for 689 pages until it ends on a picture of a baby elf girl titled Nelonna Artenala, sixth great granddaughter.
A blood stained copy of a medical book written by a discredited doctor, outlining a confusing and probably not very effective way to do heart surgery.
On the Hunting of Fauna and Fowl in the Baldred Mountains; Ed. II: A guide to the natural inhabitants of the Baldred Mountains, this plain texted book is sturdily made with an embossed leather cover. It details the hunting, preparing and cooking of most animals to be found in the aforementioned mountains. Knowledge PC’s are aware that the first edition of this guide was rather controversial, because the author included recipes that contained harpy and various forms of fey.
An adventure novel bound in a simple, chestnut colored leather with very little embellishment. Close examination will reveal the title of the book on the spine, humbly depressed into the leather
The Most Piteous Story of Garum Thornswallow: A gray leather-bound book containing the short biography of the life and exploits of Garum Thornswall, a mediocre sorcerer by all accounts who lived an average existence that came to a dolorous end. Account however vary on the very last details of his life and how he in fact met his end. The book itself rarely agrees, telling a new story to every reader with the seeming intent to cause the greatest feelings sadness and pity that they may extract from the reader. Only the most cold-hearted readers of the tome have read it without it eliciting a tear, while others are haunted by the sadness for the rest of their days by the tale. It is unknown how a sorcerer of such middling talent could have wrought such a device, and it is also unknown how many, or if in fact any of the tales told within it are true. It is also impossible to tell with any reasonable degree of certainty how Garum met his end. It is known, however, that this was the last and most notable of his bequeathed creations.
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mtraki · 5 years ago
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(Warning: Little bit of [terrible] smut in this one...  Also I don't have any personal grievance with the Catholic church, nor is my intention to offend!) 
 Storms had been building on the horizon for weeks.
They rolled through slow and continuous, one after another, and the thunder growled out across the dry lands, even though above the desert basin the sky remained bright blue and virtually cloudless.
 At night, Catherine watched the lightning flicker.  Sometimes the girls would join her-- usually Tilly or Jenny.  Sean would join them if Karen was there, and they’d share drinks and jokes.  Arthur and Charles would smoke in deep contemplation, eyes fixed on the flashing horizon, but only long enough for one cigarette.
 “You’d best get some sleep,” Arthur warned her, flicking the butt of his into the dirt before scuffing it out with his boot, “Hosea’s got us ridin’ into Tumbleweed to check in on his ‘friend’, Mister Graff.”
 Hosea often had them riding out to follow up on his leads.   Catherine was there as her ‘father’s’ representative, and Arthur was Hosea’s favorite choice for her guardian as he was more obviously physically capable at first glance than either John or Javier, and Dutch had Charles running another job.  Catherine suspected the old man was stirring up trouble after their talk about how he thought Arthur was in love with her. If Mister Morgan suspected anything, he didn’t share his thoughts with her.  Altogether, he was behaving much more aloof, and Catherine was certain Dutch’s recent behavior had much to do with it.  If not everything.
 “I remember.  I’ll be ready.”
 “Maybe bring a change of clothes this time?” He teased, corner of his mouth twisting ruefully, “Don’ want t’be delayed on account of rain.”
 “I suppose that would be best for both of us, then.  Goodnight, Mister Morgan.” She smiled back warmly.
 He avoided looking her in the face and instead turned away, heading for his tent, “‘Night, Miss Schofield.”
 It twisted in her guts like a sharp piece of metal, and she wasn’t sure exactly why.  At least this new arrangement suited Dutch’s sensitive pride better, it seemed, and so Catherine took it upon herself to bear it with quiet dignity.  As well as treat Dutch with the same cool aloofness.  She spent her nights with the other women, and did not entertain any of the outlaw’s flattery.
Lenny was having better luck.  He’d convinced Miss Kirk to ride out with him to try and shake out a lead somewhere.  Catherine found it decidedly encouraging that they were not back yet.  If any man in this world could treat Jenny right, it was surely Mister Summers.  His youth and inexperience were strengths in this regard, because he was open to education, which Jenny could surely provide if she only gave him the chance…
 With a sigh, Miss Schofield turned to retreat to her spot, settled between Tilly and Mary-Beth under the canvas, the lightning still flickering on the horizon behind her.
 They left early in the morning, and ate a light breakfast in the saddle.  Arthur was particularly withdrawn and taciturn, and the lady suspected he hadn’t rested well.  Or maybe Dutch had made a point to chap his hide over their being alone together?  She didn’t ask, and he didn’t say.
 Likely, the outlaw was determined to make it a long, quiet ride.  She let him, for about an hour and a half, but then her patience was exhausted and she began to make conversation, refusing to become discouraged by his resistance.  In the end, he was helpless before her. She was too well-trained in the arts of social discourse, and he was not nearly skilled or stubborn enough to resist her efforts.
 He’d spent twenty years learning all the best ways to rob, threaten, and kill people.  She’d spent nearly that long perfecting how to charm them.
 Arthur soon warmed to the conversation, and with Dutch and the rest of the camp so far behind them, relaxed into their former camaraderie.  As ever, it took a bit of work and encouragement to turn his thoughts and words from the immediate and practical, towards something they could both muse over.  Presently, they’d stumbled into a discussion about justice and capital punishment.
 “You know I don’ flinch away from killin’ at all, Miss Schofield.  Folks that need killin’ should be killed.”
 “So you are for judicial, summary execution, as it stands now?”
 “Well…” He laughed a bit, his humor dark-- as it often was, “I much prefer dispensation with a bullet instead of a rope.”
 “‘Dispensation’ is a good word, I approve.” She grinned at him, “But you must accept that a rope is altogether more economical.”
 “What are you talking about-- bullets come mighty cheap--”
 “--Bullets, sure, but to keep a gun in killing condition, for the number of executions a sheriff or other authority might need to dispense… These costs rack up swiftly as opposed to acquiring a rope which can be reused…”
 Arthur shrugged, “Sure, but you was talkin’ justice, not economics.  You want death on the cheap, jus’ cut out the throat or drown’ ‘em in a trough, or hell, just beat 'em t’death…”
 Making a thoughtful sound, brow furrowing, Catherine said, “So you contend that shooting a man is more just than hanging him?”
 “You been to many hangin’s, Miss?”
 “No.  I never understood the entertainment in watching someone die-- deserved or otherwise.”
 “--That’s a different discussion altogether, but I’ve seen a good number of hangings.  Civil and… outside the law proper.  Ain’t none of ‘em just from where I was standin’.  It’s a bad death, even if the end of the rope kills quick-- an’ it don’t always.”
 “... From my… limited study… the mode of execution is the severing of the spine-- the force breaks the victim’s neck.  I’ve heard that sometimes this doesn’t happen and the victim strangles to death.”
 “Your limited study bein’ readin’ about it?”
 “Mostly, though some of my peers back home have a grotesque fascination with the subject of execution and attend them as frequently as garden parties.”
 “Your books and rich, fancy gawkers ever talk about what it’s like to watch a man kick his legs while he spins helpless at the end of a rope, jerking up and down, before he starts seizing up?  Or how he looses his bowels in front of the crowd jeering for his blood before he blacks out?”
 Catherine looked at him to find he was looking at her.  Though his mouth was in a firm line, none of his displeasure was directed at her-- he didn’t blame her for her ignorance on the matter, he was simply trying to teach her, and express his point of view.  He wanted her to understand.
 If only Dutch talked to her this way… things could be so different.  So much better…
 “Alright, Arthur,” She said with a nod, “you’ve made your case against the noose.  Now explain how a bullet is better.  Death by firing squad was conceived very specifically in the military to diffuse the blood guilt.  So now we’d need five guns and bullets and men of courage with steady aim…?”
 The outlaw snorted, “Or just one.”
 “Not many men in this world can carry the burden of a hundred or more deaths, Arthur.”          “No,” He agreed, “Fortunately sheriffs are elected in an’ out, ain’t they?  After their term of service, they can retire quiet-like someplace.”
 “Even besides the shooter, there’s the crowd to think of.  You mentioned the indignity of a victim loosing their bowels, what about the horror of flesh and bone being ripped apart by a gunshot?”
 “I thought the point was to make an example…” He raised both eyebrows at her, as if surprised she didn’t understand this basic premise.
 Scoffing, Catherine shook her head, “If it is, then we aren’t talking about justice at all, and I stand even more firmly in my position against the supposed moral and legal superiority of capital punishment.”
 “So no hangin’s or shootin’s?  Whatchu gonna do with rotten folk like us, then?  Lock us up?” Arthur laughed.
 “Educate you.” She said frankly, looking him dead in the face so that he sobered and knit his brow together.
 “Educate us…?  You want to educate the killers and thieves and rapers?”
 “That should be the burden of the government, should it not?  Look at yourself, and most folks in the gang!  It’s a question of why you’re killers and thieves!  Surely if you had been taught necessary skills with which to integrate into society you wouldn’t feel like you’d been rejected by it like so much refuse--”
 “--You know, I don’ much follow news like this,” Arthur interjected suddenly, “but I heard tell the government is doin’ something like that very thing with the native peoples they’d rounded up.  The tribes.  Takin’ their kids an’ puttin’ them in these schools to teach ‘em how to be ‘American’ an’ ‘acceptable-like’…”
 Under his clever, pointed look, Catherine blushed, torn between embarrassment at her dangerous ignorance, genuine pleasure that he’d challenged her, and a small sense of pride in knowing it was her influence that had engendered this willingness to engage in a tête-à-tête at all.
 “...There’s a marked difference between educating and equipping the poor in one’s own culture… and destroying the culture of another people.  I’m not suggesting education can cure all the sins of man’s collective black heart, Mister Morgan, but I am suggesting that it’s clear that the current system only benefits the select few-- the rich.  For it is the poor who are turning to crime to satisfy their needs, and the poor who are summarily executed for it.  Yet we call it  justice and tell ourselves we’re doing very well.”
 Arthur shook his head, “Some folks are jus’ evil, Miss Catherine.”
 “Yes, but unless everyone has their needs fulfilled, we’ll never be able to tell the evil from the simply desperate.  The way they tell it, only God Himself has that power.”
 “I suppose the Reverend might agree we ought to leave justice in the hands of the Almighty…” remarked the outlaw dryly, “but I expect not much’ll get done either way…”
 This led to a discussion about the failings of the good Reverend as an individual, and the Catholic Church as an institution.  This more serious conversation quickly devolved into the trading of off-color jokes and humorous stories. Arthur’s humor was dry and dark as the tomb, but it was his sense of      timing     that threatened some inelegant, unladylike laughter out of Catherine.  Though she had little talent in entertainment, for her part, the lady had a small but efficient repertoire at her disposal, and soon discovered how much she liked hearing Arthur laugh unrestrained until he wheezed for breath.  She determined then and there to acquire greater skill in humor.
 It was then the arroyo opened around them, and Tumbleweed greeted them, starting with the chapel to their right, which caused them to shoot each other half-guilty, half-smirking looks.  But it was the tree standing in the graveyard that drew Catherine’s attention and held it.
 The thing was dead, as it had been the last time she’d seen it some weeks ago, but now half was torn away, broken off and lying at an awkward angle on the ground amidst shattered bits of branches.
 “What in the world..?” She murmured stunned and intrigued.  Never in her life had she seen anything like it.
 Arthur had, it seemed, for his tone, though interested, lacked the note of naked shock hers held, “Lightning.”
 “Really!”
 Smiling at her, he nodded, “Yes’m.  That’s lightning for sure.”
 Dismounting, Catherine could hardly stop herself from approaching the ruined tree, unconcerned with how Woden snorted and trotted toward the water trough in front of the saloon where he would be certain to drench the entire length of his reins getting a drink.   Chuckling quietly-- either at the horse, his rider, or both together-- the big outlaw dismounted as well, though his steed was well-behaved enough to stay where he’d been left on the side of the road.  All of it barely registered, the lady was fixated by the appearance of the tree and entirely engrossed in trying to piece together exactly how the lightning had done this.
 “... I’m certain we haven’t seen any storms this close…” She murmured.
 “Mhm…” Was Arthur’s quiet acknowledgement over the scratching of his pencil on paper.  He was in his journal-- sketching the image in front of them, she was sure of it. He’d never shared his drawings with her, and she’d never been so bold as to pry-- not with how quick he was to tuck away the journal any time her eyes rested on it longer than a moment.
 Her curiosity gave her an infamous reputation in many respects among those in the camp.
 “Does lightning really travel that far from its source?” She wondered aloud, instead, “...And isn’t it supposed to strike the tallest structure-- that church steeple is much taller!  Besides, I don’t see any scorch marks, do you?”
 Arthur was chuckling again, low in his broad chest, “Miss Schofield, if you don’ believe me it was lightnin’, you can come out an’ say so, plain…”
 “It’s not that,” Was her quick amendment, “You’ve seen it before, so I must acknowledge your greater experience in the matter… it’s just… the evidence here seems to contradict so many things I understood about the nature of lightning!”
 Snapping closed his journal, Arthur’s eyes were on Catherine’s face-- she could feel the weight of his gaze-- and his smile was warm, but there was teasing in his eyes when she turned her head to meet his look, “‘Things’?  Like thunderbolts bein’ thrown down from Olympus by Zeus?”
 “That would be a myth, Arthur, not a theory backed by scientific data documented in books,” She rolled her eyes, and he laughed.
 “What about ‘lightning don’ strike the same place twice’?”
 Blinking at him, she frowned, “You mean that’s not true?  The odds seem mathematically very slim.”
 “I dunno about mathematics, an’ I’m pretty good with odds, but--” He stopped suddenly, a strange expression crossing his face.   Catherine didn’t bother asking, she sensed it too, just for a moment: a strange smell in the air-- sharp and acrid on the tongue, and a queer sensation over her skin that raised the hair at the nape of her neck and tickled at the thin hairs on her arms.
 It lasted only a moment-- in the same moment she saw Arthur lunge for her-- and then everything exploded in white hot light flanked in boiling red, and they were thrown to their knees, shouting their shared alarm.  Slim gave a piercing whinny, the stout warhorse was unmoved by most threats, but this terrible      explosion     frightened him all the same.  The air around them seemed to tremble with the echo of a terrible, earth-shaking roar, and the lady wondered if she’d ever hear again as it reverberated in her ears and through every bone in her head enough to send her entire body trembling.
 She was not alone.  Once her vision bled back from the blinding flare of light, she saw Arthur, hatless, on his hands and knees nearby, shaking as well.  She could not hear him yet, but his mouth shaped words she knew to be vehement curses before his eyes turned toward her, worry chasing shock over his features.
 But her eyes went to the tree, where flames licked the sky.
 “Je-- Go--...  Shit…” Arthur whispered, and Catherine started to laugh, knowing what he’d started to say and why he hadn’t said it.
 Arthur Morgan, infamous outlaw, thief, and killer, was afraid to blaspheme the Name of the Lord here in front of the church and this tree that had been-- against all odds-- struck by lightning twice.  For all his teasing of her just a moment ago, Arthur apparently believed-- at least in this moment, at least a little-- the God of Abraham might strike down sinners with lightning from Heaven, should they incite his anger.
 Stranger still, she could think of no reason, in this moment, to contradict him.  Her laughter softened, but turned all the more hysterical as she felt his trembling hands take her shoulders.
 “... Catherine…?”
 She couldn’t stop laughing long enough to assure him she was unhurt, despite the quaking of her bones, and when she met his look, she understood that where the white-hot light had seared through her with terrible shock and amazement, it had set him ablaze on the inside.
 He was concerned for her, certainly, but just behind that concern--chasing like a hound on the heels of a hare--was something hot and desperate.  She reasoned she understood: though he was a man who’d faced death countless times, it was rare indeed to face death ordained by the Heavens themselves-- and see it thwarted somehow.
 Insane odds and a more pressingly desperate, mortal, desire to survive had reshifted priorities in Arthur Morgan’s mind, perhaps?  He wanted her-- had  wanted her for a long time.  Until now, he’d been willing to deny himself for the hundreds of reasons piled up inside and around him, perhaps forever.
 But now… now after facing the wrath and judgement of the Almighty...
 Perhaps not so long, after all?  Time was short.  Life was brutal and fleeting.
 Still gripped by the mad giddiness that caused laughter to spill from her lips, Catherine brought up her hands and traced both sides of his unshaven jawline with trembling fingertips, and watched as something dark and hungry framed the heat in his eyes at her touch.  In a rush, one of his hands moved from her shoulder to the side of her head, fingers threading into her dark hair, half-undone from its chignon, and dragged her in to meet his rushed, exhilarated kiss.
 Shock chased up her spine immediately.  Not because he’d kissed her, but for fear that someone might see them.  Tumbleweed was a small town, and the lightning and fire would certainly draw a crowd at any moment.  How long would it take for their lack of restraint, and disregard for modesty and propriety, to enter the usual rounds of gossip?
 How long before someone back at camp heard about it?  Until Dutch heard?
 Pressing her thumbs lightly against his chin, on each side of the cleft there, Catherine eased her face from Arthur’s.  Though he leaned eagerly after her, pressing against her fingers, he did not use his hands to drag her back or force another kiss upon her.  No matter the violence of his thundering desperation for her, he wasn’t going to force her.
 It was… surprising, given her experiences, and she found it-- like so many things on the growing list she kept in her head for Arthur Morgan-- terribly endearing.
 “...I…”
 “Wait,” She whispered, “... Not here.  Somewhere quiet.”
 He released her, to cover her hands with his, nodding, more to himself than anything.  Then he climbed to his feet and pulled her up after him.
 The burning tree was forgotten.  The horses forgotten.  His hat, there on the dusty ground, forgotten.  The job forgotten.  He pulled her after him direct to the gunsmith.  He wasn’t thinking, Catherine supposed, only doing-- driven by instinct or need, or both.  Her own thoughts were whirling in disorder so quickly she could hardly piece them together.   She’d always been aware that at any moment he might desire for her to make good on all her flirtations-- like every man before him-- but after Dutch’s threats…
 After Hosea’s accusations…
 The timing was certainly poor, but she wasn’t really concerned about it, now.  This was…
 … this was familiar territory.  She knew what to do.  She knew what was expected.  She could go through all the motions with hardly a second thought.  It was something of a relief, really, because she’d need her thoughts to decide just how to arrange things afterwards to prevent a disaster…
 She was too distracted by her thoughts to catch whatever Arthur had said to the proprietor-- maybe he hadn’t really said anything at all-- nor did she notice precisely how much money he set down on the counter-- though it looked like a rather large sum.  But then the man handed Arthur a key.  In a rush they were back outside and circling the building and climbing the stairs in the back.
 Arthur’s hands still trembled a bit, and he cursed them under his breath as he struggled with the key in the lock.  Catherine couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up-- he was still minding his oaths so as to perhaps not offend the Almighty-- but she bit her lips to hold it in.
 She couldn’t help the way her heart raced when the door opened and he pulled her inside the dimness after him.  Or the stuttering it made as the flat of his hand closed the door behind her again. This was familiar territory, certainly, but she had not done so well for herself by becoming complacent.  Every man was at his worst behind closed doors, when the lights went down.  It would be beyond foolish to not meet Arthur Morgan at his worst  with a touch of apprehension.
 But those large, calloused hands, shaped and scarred by a lifetime of violence, were gentle as they cupped her face like it was the finest china.  Even though there was a rampaging storm of urgency and desperation in his heated gaze, he did nothing more.  Not until she looped her arms over his broad shoulders and around his neck, tilting her face up toward him in invitation.  Then he met her like the breaking of a wave against the cliffs on the coast of the northeast, with a similar heavy sigh, and a great deal more care.
 He had no time or room for self-doubt now, and though sorely out of practice, Catherine could tell he knew how to conduct himself so as to please a lady while kissing her.  She wondered whether Dutch had taught him, or Hosea, or his previous lover-- Mary, wasn’t it?  Perhaps all three had their share in his education.  Maybe unknown others.  It didn’t really matter; she was quietly pleased that he was aware of how best to make use of his generous mouth.  Few men bothered to learn, and even fewer bothered to make use of the knowledge, in her unfortunately broad experience.  
 It was one of the things that had drawn her to Mister van Der Linde, initially.  For all his faults, the man knew how to use his mouth well.
 When she felt the outlaw’s fingertips brush down the smooth skin of her throat, she moved her hands as well, sliding over his shoulders and down the broad planes of his chest, quickly working open buttons as she went.  At the same time, she stepped into him, urging him backwards.  Bothering only to make a vaguely inquisitive sound in his throat while he kissed her, Arthur moved as she directed, until the back of his knees hit the bed frame.  By then, she’d gotten his shirt open-- perhaps far more swiftly than he’d expected-- and he’d torn his mouth from hers for want of air, gasping for breath.
 Apparently his education hadn’t included remembering to breathe through his nose whilst his mouth was occupied, or perhaps he was too wound up to remember.  He’d forgotten a great deal else outside, after all...
 He said nothing, just gazed at her like she was the only cup of water left in the desert, and he was already a man on fire, his fingers toying with the pearl button at the throat of her shirtwaist as if he was afraid any further efforts might break it.  Or break her.
 Or this-- that she might, in the end, reject him despite coming this far…
 Under her hands, and his heated skin beneath them, his heart galloped wildly in his chest.  He was shivering all over like a fly-stung colt, quaking as her fingers slid down his body toward his belt without her eyes ever leaving the storm in his.  There was something to be said about the satisfaction of having such a physically imposing man so wholly in her power.
 “Lie down.” She commanded in a soft voice, uncinching his gunbelt with both hands in two smooth motions.  He stooped slowly, the bed too short and too low for him to sit with any kind of real grace, considering his size, and especially with his focus elsewhere.  He stumbled, mumbling a soft curse as his legs and balance forsook him, but the lady used his momentum to push him to the side, so he might fall the length of the bed instead of the width of it to hit his head on the wall.  He flipped to his back in time to reach for her waist with both hands as she climbed after him, parting her riding skirt so her legs wouldn’t bind up together as she moved.
 The bed groaned beneath their shared weight.  Catherine wondered if the shopkeep downstairs could hear.  She wondered if he were listening on purpose.  It was still better than the middle of the street in front of the church and cemetery.  At least here they had plausible deniability for whatever accusations might be thrown…
 The pressure of the outlaw’s fingers kneading into the stiff bones of her corset at her waist sharpened her attention back on him and the task at hand-- he needed something to do with those hands, she supposed.  For whatever reason, he couldn’t find a proper task for them himself. With one of her own hands and a practiced twist of fingers, Catherine popped the pearl button at her throat open, noting how Arthur’s eyes followed their motion.  How the apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.  Her other hand guided one of his to her throat, willing to suffer his fumbling-- willing to sew buttons back on her own clothing for a change, if necessary-- to see this done, “Here.”
 While he worked the buttons open so slowly, one at a time, her hands found the buttons of his suspenders, and then the fasten of his pants.
 She only paused when she heard his voice, “Wh…?!”
 Her shirtwaist was only half open, and under it, he was pawing the material of her corset cover, confused by the additional row of buttons as an obstacle to get to her.  It was at this precise moment Catherine realized that whatever he might have done, or planned to do with his fancy ‘Miss Mary’, he’d never actually taken her to his bed, or even seen her under-dressed.
 Further, any women he might have taken his pleasure with were either not women of means and fashion, or he’d encountered them already undressed.
 She wondered if this were also the reason Dutch never bothered attempting to undress her: he didn’t want to risk looking a fool.
 Laughing again, Catherine leaned down to smother his frustrated incredulity with a kiss-- which he gladly, hungrily answered-- and opened his pants, sliding her fingers inside.  Moaning into her mouth, the outlaw’s hands clenched hard around the silk-wrapped bones circling and cinching her ribs and waist while his own contracted in a seemingly unconscious manner, rolling his hips to meet her hand.  She found him already hard and slid him free, throbbing heat.  The curious, whirring, analytical part of her mind noted that while his cock-- like the man himself-- was above average in size, it was his girth that made her insides clench and turn icy.  Even as… well used… as she might be, she could not help but feel apprehensive dread at how he might tear through her with his size and strength.
 But it wouldn’t do for her hesitation to show.  What a mess it would be if he were to question her willingness…
 Fondling the length of his shaft with light brushes of her fingertips, Catherine used her free hand to coax one of his to the laces for the waist of her skirt-- with a normal skirt, the hem could be pulled up around her hips to accommodate the joining of bodies, but that which made this garment more decent and ladylike for riding astride a horse made more difficult the riding astride of a man.  She felt his fingers clench suddenly into a fist around the laces and fabric when the second stroke of her hand around his member wrapped her fingers more firmly around him.  His mouth tore from hers again, his face sliding into the hollow of her shoulder while his hips bucked in frantic jerks.  He muffled his wordless shout of surprise, ecstasy, and shamed frustration into her body.
 Equally surprised, Catherine froze as hot ejaculate spattered against the inside of her forearm before dribbling heavily onto her wrist and into her hand.  They sat there a moment, trying to steady their breathing and thoughts.  Her shock wore off quickly.  He was far from the first man to reach completion early--always much to his embarrassment-- and in a way she was relieved.  If this was all it might take to satisfy him, then--
 But Arthur was moving.  Gripping her arms, he pushed her to the side, over his legs, and out of his way as he climbed unsteadily--but determined-- to his feet, hands busying themselves to put himself back in order.
 Thinking him shamed by his lack of performance, Catherine said, “There’s no reason for embarrassment, Arthur.  It’s a perfectly natural--”
 Her words stuttered, snapping into shards in her throat when she caught a glimpse of his expression, however.  He didn’t look embarrassed.  He looked angry.
Quite angry.
 Standing in the middle of the small room, his back to her, the outlaw started for the door, and Catherine was suddenly mortified that he might leave her here like this.  But he stopped halfway, then doubled-back across the room to the washbasin on top of the dresser in the corner, near the foot of the bed, with heavy footfalls that betrayed his emotion.  He took the drying cloth from where it was folded next to the basin and tossed it to her.  Watching the ragged cloth hit the equally ragged bedspread nearby, the lady blinked, mortification still brewing inside.
 This… this had never happened before.  She’d never lain with a man and had him angry-- or even displeased-- by the end.  Never once!  Opening her mouth to ask after him, he instead spoke, cutting her off with his low, disgusted voice.
 “This… this ain’t right…”  He shook his head, still refusing to look at her, presenting her only with his broad back.
 Mortification swelled, and it took only moments for it to give way to anger of her own.  Her tone turned icy, “... You must forgive me, sir, I was not aware my attentions were so displeasing--”
 “Woman, hush.” His scolding came in a sharp, but resigned tone.  “You ain’t stupid.  You know precisely what I’m on about.  You… you’re Dutch’s woman, dammit!  How can I…  I can’t…  This…  This ain’t right!”
 Anger bubbled inside, boiling thick and heavy like a pot of coffee, “Yes.  Dutch’s woman.  As much a possession-- an  object-- for his display to prop up his vanity and pride as all his others.  A pretty and gaudy trapping to use or set aside as he pleases! Is that ‘right’, Arthur?”
 He didn’t answer her.
 Her emotions strangled her, forcing her voice out so hushed it was almost a hiss, “He doesn’t love me.  He hardly cares for me.  He just wants to keep me.  Like… like a jewel.  But I’m not a jewel, I’m a woman with my own mind!  So don’t… don’t you dare try and shame me for this, Arthur!”
 Saying nothing in reply, Arthur turned for the door, still refusing to look at her.  She knew he was going for certain this time, and Catherine desperately tried to find words and voice-- something to say that might stop him.  Of his own accord, he paused in the doorway.
 “I’ll get the horses.  Clean yerself up an’ meet me in front.” His voice was the opposite of hers-- calm, quiet, dispassionate.  Businesslike.
 Mortification and anger fled in the wake of humiliation, and Catherine suddenly had nothing more to say.  How shameful that in this moment, Arthur Morgan be more composed than she.
 She did not watch him leave, instead turning her attention to the cloth and wiping his seed from her hand and arm.  The sound of the door closing behind him and his heavy, booted steps back down the stairs hammered against her turned back, and try as she might, the lady could not help but feel as if she was being isolated from the rest of the world.  Again.
 Determining the best and only way forward was to make the best of the terrible situation, Catherine endeavored to be nothing but sweet and agreeable, despite the pit of aching, gnawing emotion between her ribs.
 She waved and smiled at the gunsmith through the window, and he smiled and raised his hand in acknowledgement before she turned to meet Arthur and the horses.  The outlaw’s expression was a mask of granite, and his eyes rested on her only the moment it took to verify she could mount the tall thoroughbred well enough on her own.
 “I see you found your hat,” The lady observed cheerfully, “Thats a bit of good luck.”
 “C’mon,” Was his quiet reply, turning the solid Ardennes with a push of his knee,  “we still need t’find Mister Graff.”
 Hosea would be expecting a good report.  Stifling a sigh, Catherine followed the iron grey warhorse and his rider, smoothing her mount’s mane idly as her eyes turned back toward the tree in the graveyard.  Blackened by the fire, parts of it were still smoldering, though the flames had gone out.
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teacher-lavin · 5 years ago
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Waking from History’s Nightmare: Baldwin & Joyce (Part Two)
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The Threat
Two weeks after school ended for summer, I had told a group of much younger teachers, “The students I teach have saved me much more than I ever saved any of them.” The next evening, the phone rang late. Muffled crying, then: “Lavin, I don’t know what to do. My mom is threatening to kill me and then to commit suicide. What should I do?” It was Candela (name changed here, another short story with a moral....). Overwhelmed, I told her to call her older sister and ask her to meet us at Burger King. 
James Baldwin’s views of teaching and James Joyce’s deep encounter with language play both pertain to the tale. 
First Baldwin:
“The purpose of education, finally, is to create in a person the ability to look at the world for himself, to make his own decisions,” 
Baldwin delivered this claim in his Talk given in a  New York City library to a group of majority white educators (October 1963). He roots his discourse within the mind and heart of the student, particularly the African American student, wishing teachers to know the student’s psyche as:  her or their or his or The child’s internal struggle. Therefore, Baldwin poses the questions as if within an imaginary stream of consciousness resonating within in the student’s mind. He  postulates further,
“. . . [the student will] say to himself this is black or this is white, to decide for himself whether there is a God in heaven or not. To ask questions of the universe, and then to live with those questions, is the way he achieves his identity” -- James Baldwin, Talk To Teachers (1963).
Baldwin assumed, I decided, that the child’s coming to terms with big questions is a process whose uncertainties demand companions, and that accompanying a child or a young adult who is asking these big existential questions is the teacher’s role. 
Rewind Three Months Earlier: The Library Excursion
“Candela” told me about three months earlier that she was taking the bus to the Jesuit university on the other side of town after school. She was seventeen that year. Her mother signed a permission slip. Our high school had no library. Candela had complex questions about our readings: James Joyce’s fiction, James Baldwin’s essays, Gloria Anzaldua and Frantz Fanon’s writings and Adrienne Rich’s A Wild Patience Has Taken Me This Far. I wanted her to experience a library as she restlessly interrogated how and what she would write.  
For that purpose, I had met Candela’s mom just the week before Candela’s library escapade at the end of her shift from midnight to 7:30 a.m. cleaning the elementary school two blocks away. Mrs. Cartagena (name changed), a small fiercely determined Cuban woman told me that she “was losing touch with her daughter” (my translation). She cried. She was exhausted.  I stayed until her tears allayed, and she said she hoped the library would broaden her daughter’s horizons.
Because I’d taught for decades at night as an adjunct professor in the Jesuit English department, I knew lots of librarians there and phoned ahead to set up Candela’s visit. The  University’s library is a weird mix: extensive collection of James Joyce criticism and Irish history, and a wonderful offering of contemporary poets from across the panoply of world cultures and languages. It goes deep.   
The morning after her visit to “Hawk Hill” (local term for the Jesuit tower looming  almost ivory over West Philadelphia), Candela had more questions than before her trip across town. “So, what is Poverty Awareness Week?” There were signs around campus advertising a week of awareness devoted to homelessness and world hunger. “I was in heaven with the books, taking them off the shelves, reading, then finding more and more and more?” She added excitedly, “Your friend, the librarian, showed me a book by Edwidge Danticat, signed by the author. Imagine that: Danticat actually must have held it in her hands. I felt like I went around the world, no lie, Mister.” 
Then, Candela paused and said, “Hey, if they really want Poverty Awareness, why don’t we just invite them over here?” She laughed an ironic laugh. 
The Threat, 
--Fast Forward Three Months, Burger King 
We met about thirty minutes after Candela’s tearful, frightened call, the three of us, Candela, her older sister (fictional name, Marisela) who had left her home twenty blocks away and her own three children with a neighbor (her husband was working nights) and me. We  replayed through tears their mother’s threats and her delirium. Marisela said that we must call 911, report the incident and the troubling words kill and suicide and that their mom would be detained, by the police and placed on meds. After about ten days she would be released. This had happened before. Marisela would sign the papers. 
Candela said that would be brutal, heartless and inhumane. Marisela countered that  there was no alternative. Then, Candela said that she couldn’t bear thinking of her mom confined in that cold, clinical environment where no one would understand her. Marisela said that there would be Spanish-speaking nurses and assistants.  Candela dissented, “But translation has to have nuance. It has to have sensitivity to the words and their meanings. It has to be dialogic.” Marisela looked perplexed. Candela explained, “I learned this all from James Joyce. Nobody gets mom’s meanings the way that I do.” Candela’s point came literally from our class. And, then, she cried and quoted her favorite line from Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, “Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flittering bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome?” And she added in her own words, “That’s so much more than Good Bye.” Candela  said that she needed to make sure her mom understood everything that had happened before she brokedown and everything that would follow from that point. Anything less, would be “a violation of the sadness of her story and of the sadness of her life.” Again, Marisela looked perplexed. A very shaky pause ensued, “Spontaneously, Marisela hugged Candela and repeated over and over, “Candy, I’m so proud of you, baby.” Together, they decided to call 911 and to be there with their mom and to accompany her and to do the translation whenever and wherever possible, in person, the two of them. 
If Baldwin’s distillation of the point of education brings teachers into a dynamic relation with the profoundly personal context within which students take risks and grow intellectually, his statement of the “paradox” of education, later in his essay, poses another problem of which we need to be aware. His terms inform the occasion, 
“The Paradox of education is precisely this -- that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated  ....  The obligation of anyone who thinks of himself as responsible is to examine society and try to change it and to fight it -- at no matter what risk. This is the only hope society has. This is the only way societies change” - James Baldwin, Talk To Teachers (1963).
So much of what we do as students and teachers and family members and neighbors and co-workers is caught within the paradox that James Baldwin articulates as an admonition to “examine and try to change” society’s forms wherever our perceptions pose poignant questions and uncertainties. Candela and her sister, Marisela, revealed Baldwin’s wisdom to me as well as an assurance that bringing students literature in all of its complexity is crucial to acquainting them with complexity  so that they can distinguish what they want to believe and how they want to live. 
Candela came away with deep convictions about nuance and dialogic sensitivity to meaning. That’s where she felt and honored profound responsibilities to her mother. Isn’t that when words are most crucial, when we discern how they create meanings and, thus, relationships? It’s no surprise that Candela continued growing and  became an extraordinary leader in her community. That will be another story.
Our work, however, as students and teachers, is to keep that conversation alive with the integrity we learn from Baldwin responding  that “Joyce is right about history being a nightmare-but it may be the nightmare from which no one can awaken. People are trapped in history and history is trapped in them” James Baldwin, A Stranger in the Village, 1955.
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sharepointsaketa · 4 years ago
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Why do SharePoint Governance Best Practices matter?
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SharePoint Governance Best Practices play a major role in the smooth and efficient functioning of Advanced Collaboration platforms such SharePoint, M365, Microsoft Teams and more. Good governance can add significant value to your organization by extensively integrating this platform to your centralized business goals. A proper governance strategy connects your business and users to this platform to help, support and secure all your content and collaborative communication. It lets you:
Drive user adoption
Maximize ROI
Reduce risk.
Improve productivity and business agility.
WHY DO SHAREPOINT GOVERNANCE BEST PRACTICES MATTER?
With expert-curated governance plans and guidelines, a governance strategy helps support and secure the content and users of the SharePoint platform.
For instance, SharePoint is so useful and SharePoint sites can be created and deployed so quickly and easily that organizations end up in a cluttered mess. As a result, users can’t find the content they need, and administrators can’t keep track of sensitive content and protect it properly — the platform fails to meet the organization’s goals due to the governance gap. Having strong governance in place avoids these issues, enabling the business to:
• Drive user adoption — Strong governance helps ensure SharePoint content is easy to create, find and use, so users will embrace the platform rather than try to find ways to work around it.
• Maximize ROI — A governance plan helps you uncover the value of the platform and guide its strategic development, so you get the most from your investment.
• Reduce risk — A governance plan that protects business IP and is aligned with appropriate compliance regulations minimizes potentially devastating risk. For instance, a good governance plan will include provisions for regularly running audits on usage, security, content or permissions.
• Improve productivity and business agility — A well-governed SharePoint platform creates a deep pool of collective intelligence across an organization, arming users with the information and context to move faster and make smarter decisions.
PILLARS TO AWESOME SHAREPOINT GOVERNANCE
Four secrets to success More broadly, you need to build trust in your SharePoint governance strategy. Following these four principles can help ensure success.
VISIBILITY
Make the work you do to define policies and procedures a matter of public discourse. One of the more successful governance initiatives I led started with a town hall event, with a Q&A for anyone interested enough to come and raise their hand. Our regular governance body meetings were open-door sessions, with end-users and executives alike joining in when something they had a vested interest in was being discussed.
REGULAR KEY UPDATES
Keep people informed about your progress. Sometimes updating a SharePoint task list at the end of the day is sufficient; sometimes more frequent communication using other tools is the right choice. Vary this collaboration level depending upon the immediacy of the workload in front of you and the maturity of your governance plan over time.
CONSTANT OPTIMIZATION
Don’t roll out a governance plan, document it in a binder, and put that binder on a shelf to gather dust and be forgotten. Project activities, reporting, and communication strategies constantly evolve because of changing business requirements, customer needs, and other factors. Keep upgrading your governance strategy for the better.
GATHER FEEDBACK, ACT ON IT
This tip was mentioned earlier but it bears repeating: Seek out feedback from your users and pay attention to it. Some people have no problem speaking up, but other people might not be so forthcoming. Look for opportunities to reach out and connect so that you can get a more complete view of what people think. When people are heard, it builds confidence in your strategy.
BEST PRACTICES FOR BUILDING A SHAREPOINT GOVERNANCE STRATEGY
Developing and maintaining a strong SharePoint governance strategy requires careful planning upfront and continual nurturing and adjustments as you use the platform. The following best practices will help you throughout the process.
CREATE AN INTERNAL SHAREPOINT USER GROUP
In an ideal world, organizations will build a SharePoint governance plan before implementing the platform. If you’re proactively building a governance plan, the first step is to talk with your future users so you can understand their content, workflows and anticipated usage. However, as noted earlier, SharePoint is so useful and easy to deploy that often sites go up first and governance comes later. In that case, the first step is still the same — talk with your users! Find out how they are interacting with SharePoint, including what sites are out there, how much they are used, who has access to them, what types of content are being stored there, and what frustrations users have.
BUILD A BROADER COMMUNICATION STRATEGY
Don’t limit your communications to the SharePoint user group; you also need to keep the larger SharePoint community abreast of what is happening with the platform, including details on the governance strategy, changes to policies, site redesigns or a platform upgrade. Make sure to solicit their feedback using strategies like community sites and polls, along with data such as search metrics — and consider their ideas seriously. Governance should enable them not to prevent them from being productive. Look for ways to ensure user adoption of the platform, such as offering training and support.
PROMOTE GOVERNANCE TRANSPARENCY
Make your policies visible. When people ask questions, point them to a SharePoint site with the answers. Make the site functional and refresh it frequently; it should not be a one-time dumping ground for rarely used process documentation. This should be a working platform from which you manage your process, accept suggestions and make changes as needed.
CLEARLY DEFINE ROLES AND RESPONSIBILITIES.
Outline the functions required to deploy and govern your SharePoint environment at the enterprise, organizational and site levels. Define roles according to skills and interests. Define Owner, Approver, Reviewer, and Participant for each of these tasks. It is simple and clear. Determine which functions should be managed centrally and which are better handled at the site collection and site levels. SharePoint works best when the management of its many functions is distributed to the people who know how the business should be run. Be clear on w clear on what you expect from each role so people can be held accountable.
DON’T START FROM SCRATCH, TAILOR IT TO MEET YOUR BUSINESS NEEDS
Microsoft provides plenty of content around optimal settings and system limitations, and that’s a good place to start. But having a personalized strategy involving selected SharePoint Governance Best Practices always help. Just need to remember that you need to constantly refine your strategy based on a solid understanding of your own business requirements. Adapt your policies (content limits, permissions, information rights management policies, and so on) using a consistent and transparent change management process to fit into the organizational priorities.
STANDARDIZE YOUR POLICIES AND PROCEDURES.
Create policies and procedures that are consistent across your organization. A given business unit might have different information rights management rules than the rest of the company, but the policies that govern how those rules are managed should be consistent across the organization.
WHEN YOU NEED TO MIGRATE CONTENT, LEVERAGE YOUR METADATA
Resist the urge to complete migrations as quickly as possible by simply dumping all data from the source environment into the target. Instead, use your metadata to sort your content by relevance, age, popularity, team, geography and other factors. By reducing the amount of sprawl and improving organization, you will deliver a target environment that’s easier for you to manage and easier for users to navigate, reducing overhead while improving user productivity and driving platform adoption.
GOVERNANCE AND CULTURE
Organizational culture plays a major role in governance planning as well as implementation. Define the rules applied to SharePoint management that is valid for everyone in the company with maybe different permission levels. For example, some people might believe that it is better for users to create their own sites on SharePoint while some might consider such vast and unrestricted access to SharePoint to be a major risk factor. There are many other areas in SharePoint related to the use of data, where it is stored, and who has access to that data and all you must do is, follow the basic SharePoint governance best practices and plan judiciously according to your organizational needs.
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the-mf-bread-babies · 4 years ago
Text
29/5/20
– REBUILD III –
= RUNAWAY RENEGADES =
· COLLECTION I ·
“backstories”
– VOLUME ONE–
“Dennis, Aaron, Damon, Sawblade”
· PART TWO ·
———————————————————
“Hm? Yeah. Look at Twitter, dude, it's trending,” Damon replied casually as the two quickly pulled out their phones. “What? It's not– oh, it changed,” Aaron stated, “It was normal, then it refreshed, and now I have over twenty notifications and DMs. Sorry, Denny,” Dennis narrowed his eyes at his husband. “I literally gave you that raccoon video last night. I know you didn't look at it,” he pointed out, petty. “How was I supposed to kn–” he argued, before Damon cut it off.
“So are you guys having the apocalypse Twitter now or what?” he asked, interrupted their quarrel. “Oh, I never update mine so I can still have the square icons and stuff,” “I'm just getting normal stuff right now; cat videos, ads, recipe videos, the occasional out of context fandom drama and discourse. The usual,” Dennis confessed. “Like, ever? Never updated it? You don't have lights out mode?” Damon asked, trying to understand this man's level of dedication for square icons. “Yup. Minecraft's square, which is nice,” he replied, smiling honestly. “Okay…” Damon processed.
“Oh, like, she really stabbed him. Like, with a knife. Like, to death,” Aaron said, bringing them back to the current conversation about apocalypse Twitter. “Hm? Oh, yeah, that. The dude, like, died, and stuff; F,” Damon said respectfully. “Chrissy Teigen bought rights to a nuke…” Aaron added. “And Hatsune Miku is leading a protest. Good for her,” He scrolled through his timeline. Dennis made a sad face. “Why's my feed so boring…” “I'm getting hockey spoilers. HOCKEY,”
“Maybe if you had circle icons…” Damon suggested quietly. “SQUARE ICONS ARE GOOD, DUDE, AND I–” Dennis's passionate and tenacious yelling was suddenly interrupted by an inhuman growl. “Oh, stupid cannibal rats. This isn't New York, goddamn it,” Aaron grumbled as he grabbed a broom and walked angrily towards the noise. “This is why stray cats are important, you dumbass mayor,” “Just friggin’, spay and neuter ‘em if you hate them so much, clip their ears and shit…”
“So, about Borderlands. Which one’re you playing?” Dennis said as they both waited for Aaron to investigate. “TWO!! I'M PLAYING BORDERLANDS 2, ON MY THIRD ULTIMATE VAULT HUNTER MODE PLAYTHROUGH, AND ALSO THE PRE-SEQUEL, AND I'M PLANNING TO BUY BORDERLANDS 3 WHEN THERE'S A GOOD SALE LATER!!!! I LOVE BORDERLANDS!!!” Damon explained excitedly.
“I wanted to buy the legendary collection on my Switch, but I… panicked and bought Animal Crossing instead. I have Raymond on my island, by the way,” Dennis said sadly. “I built a cage around his house the other day,” Damon stared sadly at this man, understanding his complicated dilemma. “That's very nice,” he said, “how does your island look like?” Damon leaned against the wall, holding Sawblade, who was now sleeping. “Bad,” the man replied, looking down in shame.
Aaron, on the other hand, was whacking the living hell out of the ground, determined to find the creature. “Wait, I probably shouldn't scare it off or something,” He realized, calmly holding the broom. “C'mere, lil guy,” he repeated as he whistled. Another odd growl echoed in the alleyway, sounding much closer than the previous one. “Hm,” Aaron thought as he stopped walking for a bit, unsure whether to call the two over or to keep going alone. “DENNIS! DAMON!” he yelled, extremely scared of whatever monster was luring him over. “Yeah, I have Graham, he's just ok–” Dennis conversed. “Aaron?! Did you find it?” He shouted.
* CHAPTER TWO *
The Mystery
“COME OVER HERE!!” Aaron yelled back. “What about Sawblade?” Damon worriedly asked. “SAW– Uh, just– just put her in the back, there's some food, water, litter boxes, toys, treats, ghosts, cable,” Dennis listed down as he carefully took her from the boy and carried her to the back room. “Well, basically, it's for cats,” He said as he closed the door. “Alright, let's go,”
As Aaron was waiting patiently for the two to follow, he took out his phone and browsed through a shopping app. Unsurprisingly, this had also changed. The feed was filled with knives, jackets, concrete powder, more knives, advertisements for people looking for commissions, and… snacks. “Oh, apocalypse stuff, huh?” he mumbled as he eyed the “Food” tab, tapping it, eager to know what apocalypse snacks are like. Hopefully not like, chips made out of gasoline or something.
Wow.
WOW .
“Tubby custard, Cookie Monster cookies, Why Does Anime Food Look So Tasty, Hottie's Microwaved Chicken, Salad Fingers’ Salad Fingers, ACTUAL rice fried by chickens, Lembas bread, and–”
“Zeruel meat, $20”
Aaron hastily pressed the “Add to Cart” button, uncaring if it's a scam or not. He continued browsing all the snacks sold in this new world, forgetting what he was doing before until Dennis and Damon came running into the alley. “YOU OKAY?!” Dennis yelled, the surprise of it giving his husband a flinch. “Yeah, honey, do you want to drink the blue milk from Star Wars?” Aaron said calmly. “Is Aunt Beru there?” Dennis asked, casually placing his head on his husband's shoulder to look at the phone screen, his arms wrapped around his neck, but like, in a loving and non-strangling way, you know how, placing a kiss onto his cheek.
“Hey guys, I have bread at my house. It expires tomorrow, so I'd recommend eating it if you want :)” Damon suggested. However, his voice was too quiet for them to hear it and they continued doing gross couple stuff like holding hands and premarital eye contact. Ew. “Now about that cannibal rat…” Dennis retracted his arms from around Aaron's neck, his hand still lightly wrapped around the other’s shoulder. He placed himself in front of the shorter man, close enough for Aaron to smell his stinky-ass breath that reeked of ranch dressing. Dennis smiled softly, waiting for an answer. “cannibal what now” Damon asked to himself.
“That can wait,” Aaron replied, his arms slowly wrapping around Dennis. “I dunno, guys, what if you're kissing and stuff, and then we all die or something,” Damon interrupted the couple's flirting. “When the hell did you– Uh, yeah, okay, let's, um, take care of that first,” Aaron said, only now noticing the boy's presence. “Hell yeah! Let's kill some rats!” Dennis yelled exuberantly. “Capture, Denny, don't kill anything,” Aaron corrected. “That's literally the first thing I taught you about the pet shop thing, honey,” Dennis looked down in shame and disappointment.
The trio went further into the alleyway, staying close to each other in case anything happened. “Wouldn't it be funny as hell if, like, it turned out to be a fridge or something?” Damon asked. “And the fridge was full of killer snails,” Dennis added sarcastically. “Killer snails are scary, you guys don't understand,” Aaron said angrily, “Just imagine sitting at the beach and some bitch-ass cone snail runs straight at you and you die right there on the spot. That's scary as hell,” he explained. “Run. A snail. That would take five months,” Dennis questioned his co-worker, “Babe, for a vet, you have really weird and specific and unrealistic fears,”
“It's because–” Aaron argued back, his sentence cut off with another growl, this time coming from the wall on his left. “A fridge, guys, a fridge,” Damon assured. “Nah, it's a zombie bear,” Dennis said, smirking. Aaron looked around for a door, or a window, so he could investigate. “Aliens, guys, aliens,” he mumbled, finding a foggy window. “Aha!” Aaron yelled as he turned on the flashlight on his phone. “So, Damon says it's a fridge, Denny says it's killer snails and zombie bears, and I said it's an alien, right?” Aaron said smugly, knowing his vague theory is way more likely than their guesses.
He directed the light through the window, its light revealing the inside of the building. It was dusty and empty, probably built as a store room. Or a weird cult place. “Well, that's that,” Dennis said, disappointed in the truth. “Cobwebs, huh? We're all wrong, then,” Damon said sadly. “ALIEN cobwebs!! I'm right, suckers!” Aaron yelled enthusiastically.
“You sure about that? Could be normal ones. Only way to find out is to go in… ;)” Dennis said, taunting the others. “Really? We wanna know that? They're clearly aliens. Not fridges…” Damon asked, looking down. “Suuuure, man. But y’know, it could be zombie bear fridges in those cobwebs… We could be right, and Aaron's wrong…” Dennis suggested. “So, honey, if you wanna make sure you're right…” Aaron scrunched up his face in offence. “I am. Do zombie bear fridges not sound alien to you.”
“Yeah, but… Florida probably has that, yeah?” Dennis said, angering Aaron more. “You think I'm gonna rush in there to prove that I'm right? You think I'm that dumb. Den, babe, I won't go in there,” Aaron asserted. While the two was arguing, Damon, bored, just walked around them in circles. As he was dragging his feet blindly, he accidentally stepped on something hidden under dried leaves, sinking it down. “SECRET DOOR!” he yelled out excitedly.
Damon kicked apart the leaves from each other, uncovering the part of the ground. “Who the hell puts a button here?” he questioned. “Oh, what the–” the ground shook, a piece of it falling down, revealing a staircase. It was carved from stone and it looked straight out of a history book. “Uh… should we go back, or?” Dennis said, weirded out by it. “Homestuck says we shouldn't trust stairs, so,” he added. “Karkalicious, definition: Makes Terezi loco,” Damon sung. “She wants to taste something something photo, dyin’ just to know the flavour, I ain't doin’ HER NO FAVOURS, no reason just season fresh and comes and goes like seizures, I'm Karkalicious,” he mumbled. “What the fuck?” Aaron whispered.
The three stood in front of the staircase, unsure what to do. Aaron was gripping a broom, while Dennis and Damon considered making a quick pit stop at the pet shop.
* CHAPTER THREE *
The Pit Stop at the Pet Shop
Dennis had made the decision to go back to get some tools to help them, and Aaron and Damon waited in the alley.
“So, you wanna look at the stuff they're selling here?” Aaron asked, passing the time. “Sure, why not?” Damon agreed as he peeked at his new friend's phone. “Alright, what're we gonna browse? There's video games, food, clothes, weapons…” “VIDEO GAMES!!” he shouted happily. “Okay…” Aaron said as he clicked a tab.
“Doom Crossing: Eternal Horizon Solid III Dawn”
“Borderlands: The Pre-Threequel – Sir Hammerlock's Big Game Apology Video ft. Tiny Tina: The DLC”
“Overwatch 2: Please Buy This Game – $3 Super Duper Legendary Deluxe Origins Edition”
“Gun Shooting War Tanks Rockets Missiles VR Simulator 46”
“Low-Poly Art Game with Hidden Metaphors”
“Gritty Old White Men Who Are Detailed And Angry 3: This Time There's More Pores”
“Not-Subtle-At-All Metaphor for Society and Politics, As Told By A Cishet White Man, Ultra 4K HD”
“Racing But Very High Quality and Immersive and Also Like $80”
“Ah. This is basically the same.” Damon stated sadly. “Wait, what about this?” Aaron pointed to a familiar video game. “Angry Birds Seasons,” it read. They both began to cry out of nostalgia. “Maybe this world isn't so bad after all…” Damon said gratefully as Aaron downloaded the game.
Meanwhile, Dennis struggled to carry an assembled cat cage, a carrier, a bottle of water, a ball, dog toys, flea shampoo, gloves, cat and dog treats, cat and dog food, and a partridge in a pear tree at the same time. Somehow, he did, and he wobbled over to his husband and the kid, his vision completely blinded by everything he carried. “Man… Aaron's gonna be so… impressed when he sees this. I'm so friggin’… strong…” He whispered to himself as he panted.
“Holy shit, it's Angry Birds, dude,” Damon said happily. “Rock, paper, scissors, whoever wins plays,” Aaron suggested. “Nah, you go first. I'm not really sure if this is the Angry Birds Seasons normally in our world or if it's some weird clone of it.” Damon said, scratching his head. “Wonder what's Sawblade doing,”
As the sound of dry food rattling and a cat cage being dragged across the street grew louder, Aaron excitedly went to help his husband, who immediately fell on his back in tiredness at the sight of him. “Carry,” Dennis panted, closing his eyes and probably about to take a nap. “Why'd you bring toys and treats?” Aaron asked honestly. “Just in case the little guy's angry,” Dennis explained badly. “It could be a zombie or whatever, you know… I'm pretty sure that growl didn't come from an ‘angry little guy,’ dude,” Damon argued.
“Well, okay. Who's going down first?” Aaron asked, making a face that was a combination of scared and taunting. “Uh, I'm like, a minor, and could die, so it's kind of illegal if I go first. Like, I'm all endangered and stuff. Yeah,” Damon stated. “I have scoliosis,” Dennis blurted out, giving Aaron puppy dog eyes. “I could trip and fall and die,” he added, nodding slowly while still maintaining eye contact. “I ate a doughnut for breakfast today, so I'm pretty full; if I go first, I'll just slow you guys down,” Aaron said. “Wolves do that. The slowest and oldest ones go in front so they don't get left behind,” Dennis replied with a smile. “Uh, my leg hurts a lot, I can't go downstairs,” Aaron added. “How about you roll down? It's a much more fun solution :)” Damon replied back, really not wanting to be the first one.
“Fine, we'll do rock paper scissors, then,” Dennis suggested impatiently. “There's three of us, it'll probably take a long time,” Aaron said, tilting his head and looking away from his husband's demanding glare. “Oh, lat tali lat,” Damon said casually, confusing the two. “Huh?” “Shooooot. Um, well basically, where I'm from, there's this game where it's like rock paper scissors, but it's for more than two people,” Damon explained in a very complicated manner, clearly wanting the situation to drag on longer.
After explaining how the game works, the trio finally came to a conclusion on the sequence they enter in– first, Dennis, then Damon, and Aaron behind them. “Oh. So who's carrying the luggage?” Dennis asked to Damon and Aaron. “Do we really need to bring that big ass cage?” Aaron asked. “Like, how the hell are we supposed to bring it down there? Just kick it downstairs and run?” Dennis thought for a bit. “Um, yeah.” “Oh, good idea, you can check for traps and stuff,” Damon agreed.
“A: What about the food? What if this alien–”
“D: No one said it was an alien except for you.”
“A: Fine, this zombie bear–”
“d: – Killer snails in fridges,”
“A: THIS THING, THIS ALIEN THING,”
“D: Ok”
“A: You think it eats kibbles? Little seafood delight kibbles?”
“D: Uh…”
“A: Maybe some of those chicken flavored ones?”
“D: I guess…”
“A: Huh?”
“d: Yeah, why'd you bring dry food?”
“D: Because if I brought wet food, I'd have to bring a plate and stuff.”
“A: Or, you know, just serve it in the can it was in,”
“D: What if it hates the texture or whatever?”
“Aliens probably like crunchy food better.”
“I like crunchy food better than… like, mashed-up meat drenched in some weird liquid. Aliens are like that too.”
“d: Good point, dude,”
“A: Hm. Yeah, can't disagree with that, man.”
“D: See? This is because I was kin with Megamind back in middle school,”
“A: That– okay.”
“D: Yeah. Take that, bitch.”
“Hell yeah.”
“d: So Megamind likes catnip too? We're bringing catnip downstairs?”
“D: That's to make him all chill and stuff.”
“A: Chew toys? Bouncy balls?”
“D: That's if there's guard dogs.”
“d: Oh, and the crab treats are for Jessica, only child, Illinois, Chicago?”
“D: Yeah…”
“A: You really brought everything from the shop, huh?”
“D: Yup! Except cat beds, leashes, collars, custom collars, microchip trackers, heat lamps, cat litter, litter boxes…”
“A: Okay, well just enough for this, then,”
“D: Yeah!”
“d: What if they're lizards, and they're too cold?”
“D: … Shiiiit.”
“A: Aliens aren't– Oh damn, you're right,”
“d: Well, let's just hope I'm not,”
“I don't want them to shit everywhere or whatever, man.”
“D: What.”
“d: This one time in kindergarten, my teacher brought in her iguana and it was shitting all over my desk. My poor, poor, desk.”
“A: Um? How?”
“d: I dunno. Just did. Like, splat, bitch, fuck you,”
“Wait, oops, sorry,”
“D: That's very sad.”
“d: Yeah. Thanks,”
“…”
“d: So are we going in or what?”
“D: No”
“A: dennis.”
“D: do i still have to be first”
“d: DUH”
“D: FIIIIINE OKKKAAAAAY”
“D: this is like that one anime with the big guys”
“the one thats pretty racist”
The three finally went downstairs in the order they agreed upon, and their discovery will be told…
In the next part.
still reading this? loser
??????? go do smth else
...
helloooo get outtttt
hey? you're reading this?
hisoillu is fucking canon
and Fuck parigings. if future me is reading this i really hope ur not pouring your heart out for the rat and the pig men. Really , Dude , Really .
nah jk if they g/y , they ok
unless its weird.
n e ways next part coming soon ,
uhhhh written by rocco wulfram cyaaaa
0 notes
kitten1618x · 7 years ago
Text
GoT Afterthoughts 7x06 Beyond the Wall (Jonsa Edition) SPOILERS
Hello lovelies ... apologies for the delay! As most of you know, my Marine was home briefly. ❤️ 
 We begin our episode with the war room map/table in Dragonstone and a fire crackling in the background -ominous foreshadowing? We then join Jon and the boys hiking through the winter wonderland. Tormund being Tormund pokes Gendry for some fun, before the talk with Jon takes a more serious turn. He asks about the Dragon Queen, and Jon tells him that she'll only help if he bends the knee. Tormund tells Jon he's spent too much time with the freefolk and now he doesn't like kneeling. 
 Now, what Tormund said next admittedly confused me (and I'm paraphrasing): "Mance was a great man, a proud man, but how many of his people died for his pride?" To my knowledge it was Mance himself who died because he refused to kneel -not the freefolk? Were Wildlings slaughtered off-screen unbeknownst to us? I'm not being facetious -if I'm wrong in my confusion, someone please correct me. Otherwise, what we have here is a plot hole -almost like Tormund giving Jon a reason to kneel, to not be like Mance and not put his family and people in peril over his pride. I'm not ready to bag on the writing just yet, but this is a blatant inconsistency -just sayin'.... 
 But moving on ... Gendry airs his grievances with the brotherhood and the Hound tells him to suck it up buttercup and that's that for now. We are then brought to Jon and Jorah speaking not of Dany (which, ya know -would make sense since this whole "epic romance" plot and all) but instead, they are bonding over their fallen fathers. 
 Jon: “my father was the most honorable man I've ever met, he was good all the way through, and he died on the executioners block.” (We'll come back to this). 
Honorable Ned's son, honorable Jon takes off Longclaw and offers it to Jorah. Jorah insists that Jon keep it, deeming himself unworthy. 
 Jorah: “It's yours. May it serve you well, and your children after you.”
Cue WINTERFELL music and a pensive looking Jon. Contemplating your future children, Jon? Imagining their red hair and curls? Tully and Stark looking? Okay, I'll stop now -but come on guys -what an Easter egg! And right from there we jump to Winterfell (SURPRISE) and Jon's future wife (and mother of his children).
Our lovely Stark sisters are in the traditional Stark spot upon the battlements. Arya tells a heartwarming tale of Ned catching her practicing archery and clapping when she finally hit the bullseye. It was sweet, and lovely, and everything I'd been praying for for weeks, but then the accusations fly and all is lost. Arya has the letter that Cersei made Sansa pen to Robb. Sansa is naturally upset about this and defends herself with the truth: they made her write it (even Robb knew that when he read it, geez Arya come on -It's not like you did/didn't do things, too!). Does everyone remember when she was Tywin's cupbearer? Because I do. 
 I don't blame either of my precious angels for what they did/didn't do to survive as scared, isolated and traumatized little girls -and dammit, they shouldn't either! But more on this later .... 
 Now, I don't like what they made Sansa say about Arya "should be on her knees thanking her" -it's not that she isn't right about the part she played in re-taking Winterfell, but THAT was definitely some shitty writing. 
 We flash back to our boys, and Tormund is attempting to bond with the Hound. Aside from being some of the best comic relief this show has delivered in a long time, I'm becoming sweet on Tormund x Brienne. Stop me! I love Brienne x Jamie too much! I'm trash! Someone just wheel me out to the alley and light my ass on fire! 
We got a nice little callback to Ygritte and naturally Sansa too -because "Gingers are beautiful, they're kissed by fire". More on this later, too ..... 
 We switch over to Beric and Jon first discussing how much Jon apparently doesn't resemble Ned (sure Jan) and then the creepy religion (again, burning children is bad, guys -I'm with Varys on this religion). Jon doesn't serve the Lord of Light, he serves ONLY the North. They do seem to agree on one thing: they are protectors, and Jon recites some of his Nights Watch vows: "I am the shield that guards the realms of men." More on this later .... (Are you guys picking up a theme here yet? Let's see if you figure it out before I get to the end of this post). 😉 
 After the Hound points them towards the mountain he saw in his vision, we go to Dragonstone where Dany decides to compliment Tyrion by insulting him? lol What she likes about him is that he's not a hero -heroes are stupid with their constant pissing contests (she's not wrong) -except I'm not sure I'd consider Daario or Drogo heroes? Tyrion points out that all these brave men have fallen for her -including Jon Snow, because apparently unbeknownst to US the actual viewers, he's been oogling her ....?? Daenerys denies it, but you can tell by her body language that this pleases her. But -"he's too little for her" ???? What does that even mean? 
Honestly, I can't figure out my Little Lion this season and it's kind of pissing me off. Is he cracked out on Dragon love too? Or is he being clever and playing the game? Varys did say he needed to find a way to make her listen. Does Tyrion think Jon can influence her? And where the hell is Varys, by the way? 
Dany brings up the upcoming meeting and her impulsive temper comes up -and the Tarlys (expect them to come up again in the near future too, guys). Tyrion warns her about ruling with fear and then the convo shifts to the subject of Dany's mortality and her line of succession. Dany jumps into serious angry paranoia mode (Targ trait) and flings accusations of Tyrion's loyalty at him again. Look -I fully understand that this is a touchy (and rightly so) subject for Dany, but I don't think he's in the wrong here -the line of succession is important to any monarch, and especially one that intends to ride into battle. But ...not today Tyrion, not today. 
We jump back over the wall, and now the boys are traipsing through blizzard-like conditions. Is it still the same day? Has night fallen, or is it just dark due to the snow storm? Ugh, this episode is leaving me with more questions than answers! They spot, and are spotted by an undead bear, and a few redshirt Wildlings are taken out. Thoros and Beric light the sonofabitch on fire, Tormund whacks it with his battle axe -I mean, this damn thing takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin', and ends up with Thoros in its mouth, before Jorah takes it out with a dagger (assuming it was dragon glass?). A chug of alcohol and a cauterizing of the wound, and he's miraculously up on his feet and ready to continue. 
On a side note: poor precious hound and his fire PTSD. 😔 Cant wait for Clegane bowl -hope it ends with fire and Sandor conquering his fear while exacting his revenge. 
And now we're back in Winterfell, and a distressed Sansa is confiding in Little Finger. If ya'll didn't pick up that she was sniffing him out, then I just can't help you. Sansa doesn't trust him. I strongly suspect she knows that letter turned up because of him. I'm 99% confident she was jugging him for info .... 
Sansa is nervous about the letter, though -rightly so, because if the lords see it, they may withdraw their support -BUT she isn't worried for herself, she's worried for Jon and keeping his army (amassed to 20k now -when did that happen? Go Sansa!) -so wake up and suck a fat one, Sansa haters! Don't you guys get it yet?!?! Sansa is loyal to Jon -shit, even Little Finger gets it. Why do you think he's so bent on sewing discourse between the sisters, now? Because all his attempts to drive a wedge between Jon and Sansa have failed! 
We return to the winter wonderland, and now it's Jorah/Thoros bonding time. I'm sorry that I don't care enough to repeat their exchange -it wasn't exactly riveting, and I pretty much knew that it was his "death knell". Anyone else getting whiplash from all this back and forth? 
Upon their climb, they hear the clinking of an undead scouting party. Interesting .... they send scouting parties ahead? The NK and his Generals are pretty smart. Which caused something to pop into my head: are Gilly's brothers the NK's Generals? But back to the action ... they start a fire to lure them in and ambush them. Jon kills the General and all but one of the wights fall. Aside from the convenience of all but the one they need falling, this is also interesting. If they take out the generals who raised them, the wights will automatically fall -so if the NK is taken out, then his entire army would perish! Hmmm ... 
So, my dudes tackle Bones and he lets out an ear piercing screech, which apparently alerts the others (hmmm -they communicate, too?). With an avalanche of the undead rolling down upon them at high speeds, they collectively shit their pants while hogtying Bones, and Jon orders Gendry to run for Eastwatch and get a Raven to Dany, declaring that he's "the fastest". Well, this is all well and good, but please explain to me just exactly HOW Jon knows this? Because I didn't know Gendry was fast ...did you? And not only do they send this poor kid who's never even seen snow before, off into the arctic wilds by his lonesome, entrusting his supposed internal GPS (I guess???), but they take his freaking weapon so he has no means to defend himself, to boot! 
And off he goes, while Jon and the crew race for shelter and find themselves standing over the weak ice of a frozen pond/lake. With no other place to go but forward, they take their chances and make for the rock in the middle, as the dead close in on them and after grabbing a few more redshirt Wildlings, the wights break the weakened ice and begin falling into icy water, creating a barrier and a trap for our boys. Winded, but alive, they freeze their tushes off, as night falls and an exhausted Gendry collapses before the gate of Eastwatch. Daddy Davos comes to cradle on of his fostered sons as Gendry breathlessly pleas to send a Raven. 
It's morning on the rock, and our dudes have snuggled to keep warm overnight. The Hound rouses from his comfy Jon Snow pillow to kick the grumbling Bones, who's probably just salty that he didn't get invited to the slumber party. Sandor gives him a good morning kick in the ribs, and when Bones squeals in displeasure, so do some of the wights surrounding them. Another clue of their links? 
Unfortunately, Thoros hasn't made it through the night. They burn his body and Beric says the creepy Lord of Light's prayer. I hope someone had the good sense to take his flaming sword first, but I doubt it, because while I love my boys -they aren't exactly clever ...they did go on a wight hunt, after all. 🙄 
Jorah and Jon discuss the connection and Jorah suggests trying to take out the WW's as their best chance of survival. Jon says no, they need to take that thing (Bones) back with them and a Raven is on its way to Dany -she's their only chance. I suppose she has the same magic GPS as Gendry. 😳 Beric joins them and counters that argument with just taking out the NK -he turned them all after all ...kill him and they all fall. 
Now, Jon puzzles me here. His reply to Beric's suggestion is: "You don't understand." 
What Jon? What don't we understand, baby?? Tell us!!!! Is Jon suddenly afraid of his own mortality? I don't think so, but then -what don't we understand?????? 
*screaming internally* 
Beric counters with how the lord brought them both back and maybe this is why. I'm not sure what Jon's thinking while his chest heaves and he eye fucks the NK -but .... perhaps he really is afraid? Maybe of failing and being forced to rise and fight on the NK's side? Suggestions are welcome here .... really. 
We jump back to Winterfell and Sansa has received an invite to KL. So, who sent this invite? Sansa refuses to go -and is certainly justified considering .... She intends to send Brienne in her stead, but Brienne is uncomfortable leaving Sansa unprotected because of Little Finger. She requests to at least leave Podrick behind, but Sansa denies her request, and after trying several times to politely put her off, she finally rudely dismisses her. Now, I have no doubt that Sansa is truly frightened to go to KL because of Cersei, but I also think that she specifically chose Brienne to represent her -not only because she trusts her to represent her interests, but also because of what Little Finger implied earlier -about Brienne intervening with Arya if necessary. I'd like to think that Sansa is not only protecting her little sister, but also Brienne's honor of having to side with one of the sisters should things get ugly. (They won't, trust me). 
We flip over to Dragonstone and Tyrion tries to convince Dany not to run off to the rescue, but (thankfully), she doesn't listen. She mounts Drogon and off to the rescue her and her lizard babies go! 
We're back at the boulder now, and an apparently bored Sandor is throwing rocks at the "cunt" wights. Not that I blame him, but we all knew where this was going, right? The ice has re-frozen and slowly, the dead advance on them again. This shit was really unbelievable, tbh. With the sheer amount of wights surrounding them, they should have been swarmed, but somehow manage to keep most of them at bay. Jon yells "fall back" (to where????) as Tormund gets grabbed and, oh my heart!!!! I swear I had a mini stroke! But thankfully, Sandor grabs him just in time (he knows he fucking LOVES fire kissed Gingers, okay?)!
And just when it seems that all is lost, Dany and lizard puppies arrive to fuck shit up!! Okay, despite their destruction to actual human life a few weeks ago -this was beautiful and visually very satisfying! This is what the dragons are for! They take out a good chunk of the NK's army -which is WHY I assume he targets the dragon still flying overhead and raining down hellfire on his army, rather than Drogon who was chilling while they all saddled up. I mean, it's just a guess, but it's truly the ONLY logical explanation I could come up with. 😐 
Dany reaches immediately for Jon, but a wight charges, and Jon turns to dispatch it, as well as a few of its comrades while the others climb atop Drogon. You know, Jon being the hero he was accused of earlier in the episode? The NK marches forward and takes aim at Viserion -who is still fucking up his army (as I mentioned above, and why I think he may have targeted him), as Jon continues to blindly fight the wights instead of climbing his dumbass on the fucking dragon! Why? So it can be HIS fault for what happens next, of course! 
I legit cried when Viserion died. I'm a grown-ass woman, and I don't give a shit! It was heartbreaking, to watch him plummet from the sky and crash into the lake, his eye drifting closed as he slipped below the ice ... and personally, I think Dany's facial expression nailed it: gut wrenching shock. As a mother, my heart broke for her, even though I know that the dragons future demise is necessary. 
An angry Jon charges right towards the NK for a standoff, as if he took Beric's words to heart and was prepared to sacrifice himself right then and there to kill the NK and save the whole damn world! But the NK doesn't want to scrap -instead, he reaches for another ice spear, and Jon seeing that he intends to take out another dragon, screams for them to go. 
He turns to sprint for Drogon (I guess? Because Drogon had already begun to take off?) but he's tackled by wights and dragged into the icy water. The group hauls ass into the air as an ice spear whizzes towards them, but Drogon avoids it and almost sends Jorah to an early grave. Dany glances back for any sight of Jon as Drogon flies them to safety. 
After the dragons fly off, the NK and his army nonchalantly shuffle on as if nothing happened. We get a shot of Longclaw by the ice hole and suddenly Jon lunges out of the water and uses its hilt to drag himself out of the icy lake. Soaked and frozen and probably figuring this is the end, he raises his sword to go out fighting and uncle Benjen drops in to save the day! He hauls a popsicle Jon onto his undead? horse and tells him to ride for the pass, declining Jon's offer to come with him and telling him "there's no time". Now -I've seen this part criticized, and I get it, I do -except what is Benjen supposed to do? He can't pass the wall -he's dead too. Guess he figured it best to go out fighting then endless undead loneliness. Maybe he figured he had no more dumbass nephews to save from beyond the wall anymore? Whatever the case, it was sad to see yet another Stark perish -even if he was technically already dead. 
We're back at Eastwatch now, and the Hound is dumping Bones in a dingy, as Beric says farewell and they'll meet again. The Hound says he fucking hopes not, but I don't think he means it. 😉 Atop the wall, Dany gazes forlornly at the landscape below, as Jorah tells her it's time to go (and calls her "Your Grace", and not Khaleesi? Since when?). As she turns to leave, the horn blows and Benjen's horse comes into view (and where have I seen this scene before?) only this time, WITH a rider. Hey -how the fuck did he get his horse back, anyway?
The Targ ship unfurls its sails, and we're in Jon's cabin as Davos literally peels the frozen furs from his trembling body, and sweet mary mother of God, Kit's abs! 😍 As Jon freezes to death, I'm just praying that Davos continues with his disrobing of Jon (and the camera follows), but nope ... 😔 Dany watches from the doorway with a mixture of worry, awe and since she's only human, probably lust (I feel you girl, I really do). On a serious note: she's privy to all those horrid scars that were never stitched and are still literal almost gaping gashes in his chest -and one directly over his heart. I bet Davos' words are ringing in her ears again. 
After that gratuitous abs scene, we head back to Winterfell, where Sansa is snooping through Arya's room -probably looking for the letter. Instead, she stumbles onto Arya's face collection. WTF! Naturally, Arya catches her snooping, and begins to terrify Sansa, and myself collectively, with some creepy dialogue that rings as an ominous threat -except, well ... let's break this down a bit. She is sharing some of her past. She wants to play the Game of Faces, but Sansa is not having any of this shit.
I'm pretty sure that Arya drops a MAJOR foreshadowing bomb here: "We both wanted to be other people when we were younger. You wanted to be a queen, sitting next to a handsome king on the iron throne and I wanted to be a knight riding off to battle." 
Okay, back to the terrifying conversation... Arya: "With the faces, I can become someone else, live in their skin, speak in their voice. I can even become you ..."
*she picks up the catspaw dagger and steps closer to Sansa* 
 (With the dagger in her hand): "I wonder what it would feel like, wearing those pretty dresses, to be the Lady of Winterfell. All I'd need to find out is your face."
 *she flips the dagger and hands it to Sansa HILT first* 
 When Sansa takes the dagger, Arya casually turns and leaves the room.
ARYA WAS PLAYING THE GAME OF FACES. Yes, it's shitty, and she gave her sister a mini stroke, but here's the thing: I believe they are BOTH playing Little Finger separately -to protect one another AND Jon, they just don't realize that the other is doing it yet. I'm fully confident that either Bran is going to sit our Starklings down, or they're going to figure it out on their own. And speaking of Bran, where the hell is he? Is he off with Varys? WTH?! 
Okay, and we're finally at the scene that y'all were dreading .... Jon's eyes drift open to a teary-eyed Dany who's relieved to see him wake. Immediately, he apologizes for her loss. She shakes her head and lowers it to hide her tears (probably trying not to make him feel worse), and Jon reaches for her hand. He tells her he wishes he could take it back and that they'd never gone. Dany shakes her head again and disengages her hand. She disagrees -she needed to see to understand. 
She tells him that the dragons are her children -the only children she'll ever have, and asks him if he understands what she's trying to convey. Jon shakes his head yes, as Dany vehemently professes her support in helping Jon defeat the NK. 
Now, I received an ask earlier last week when this episode leaked, about whether I thought Dany was doing this only for vengeance -and certainly, that does factor into her decision, I'm sure. And I don't fault her one fucking bit, tbh. I'm a mother -if you hurt my kids, I'm coming straight for you -why do you think the term "mama grizzly" was coined? But, on the other hand -she's now seen this horrific undead army, and what they are capable of. As someone who freed slaves, it only makes sense that she'd want to help make sure that humanity is not enslaved by the NK and the dead. This is WHY Dany is here, you guys. Not to be queen. Not to be Jon's wife. But to help save humanity with her fire-made flesh dragons, and die in a very messianic way -as such has been the arc they built her character upon. 
Jon immediately thanks her, and calls her Dany. She's taken aback -and explains that no one has called her that in a very long time. She brings up Viserys and in a roundabout way, says he was a dick, as to which Jon replies: "alright, not Dany. How about my queen? I'd bend the knee, but ..." he nods his head towards his injured state, as Dany asks about the people who've sworn allegiance to him (because she suddenly cares about that now?) and Jon says (and like I TOLD YOU ALL LAST WEEK when I watched this leaked scene, how very important and almost foreboding his words are): "They'll come to see you for what you are." 
WHAT YOU ARE. Not who you are. Not how caring you are. Not anything other than ambiguously WEIRD: what you are!!! 
Dany is still touched by this seemingly heartfelt declaration, and with more tears welling in her eyes, grasps his hand and proclaims that she hopes she deserves it, and Jon reassures her that she does. After some silent eye contact, she pulls her hand free from his grasp and tells him to get some rest. 
He obliges and closes his eyes, and then when she leaves the room, his eyes reopen and he looks -guilty? As he releases what sounds like an exasperated sigh. 
And finally, we end the night with the dead dragging Viserion from the icy depths with some heavy duty chains, and the NK reanimates him. Okay, I just have to say how fucking stupid that is. Where did these massive chains come from? Why didn't he just raise his arms and raise Viserion like he did the Wildlings at Hardhome? It would have been a lot cooler if he came lunging out of the water all blue eyed, rather than be dragged up with chains. Ugh whatever! 
Okay, so for a penultimate episode, I'm not majorly impressed, but I didn't hate it.
So, some things we need to go back and touch on (as noted throughout). Have you all figured out where I was going with it? Yes? No? 
Okay - SO MANY CALLBACKS TO THE NIGHTS WATCH HERE, GUYS! 
We got Ygritte callbacks with "Gingers are kissed by fire". We got the Jon/Beric convo which was kind of reminiscent of Half Hand/Jon's convo when they were with the Wildling's as prisoners, and Jon even recited a piece of his Nights Watch vows! We've got Tormund bringing up Mance, and his refusal to kneel AND we've got an almost replicated scene (horn blowing and all) of Uncle Benjen's horse riding for the gate of the wall, only this time, WITH a rider! 
What does that remind me of? Well, a previously duplicitous undercover Jon infiltrating the Wildlings -using them to achieve his goal of getting back to Castle Black alive, to warn the Watch of the impending attack and to do his duty -hold the Wall against the Wildlings. How did he do that? By deceiving Ygritte -despite his feelings. 
Now, I'm not saying I'm right, and it's just a theory -but I truly do believe that Jon is playing Dany. BUT, I also truly believe that he does like her, and that he does really believe she has a good heart. She did just lose one of her children to save him and the crew ...  Jon's odd and ambiguous words: "They'll see you for what you are" is for our benefit -a clue to know where the story is headed. However, I do think that the fact that he actually admires and cares for her (cares, NOT loves) is making him feel pretty shitty for what he is/has to do, on top of the guilt he feels for being at fault for Viserion's death. 
It's no coincidence that he couldn't look in her eyes when he offered to bend the knee. It's also very telling that he did so when no one was around to hear/witness this. While Dany has been wearing her obvious heart eyes on her sleeve for a few episodes now, Jon has been pretty guarded, he hasn't shared ANYTHING personal, his expressions have been odd -and blank, mostly (as in this scene, as well) ... this developing "romance" has felt "off". With Dany's attraction being so blatant, I think that Jon easily picked up on her feelings for him, and he's using that -playing on those feelings, to secure an alliance. 
So why is this necessary if Dany already agreed to help him? Truth be told, I feel like Jon just doesn't fully trust her. Good heart or not, she is a stranger, he's seen her temper and how quickly she turned on Tyrion that day -this is Jon being smarter than Father (also brought up several times in the episode -as well as his honor) and Robb -who ironically was also brought up in this episode by way of Sansa's letter! 
Addressing the weirdness of Jon calling Dany, "Dany"? I believe this was to assert a familial tie -in the same episode where her brother was brought up, and ironically, the dragon that died, was named for. They are reminding us they're actually FAMILY (incase we forgot) because of what's going next episode, y'all. They want us to be kind of squicked out when it happens. 
All the mentions of Dany's inability to conceive? Well, for two reasons, really- to hit us (and Jon) over the head with the fact that Dany can't get pregnant, so boatbang can happen, basically -and Mr. "doesn't want to sire a bastard", feels confident to hang up his vow of celibacy if there's no shot of getting Dany pregnant. And also, for all of our tongues to be wagging about "oh no, could their be a magic Targ baby"? like many have been. A red herring for the red herring, anyone? A baby requires a time jump -a time jump cannot happen -the dead are literally KNOCKING on the Wall. If you've got a logical explanation for me -let's have it. And yes, I've heard the shadow baby theory, and while I think it's uber cool, I'm not really onboard with it -who would it kill, as that is their purpose?
Also -the NK and his Generals are impervious to fire -unlike the wights. But -will dragon glass and Valaryian steel kill the NK? I'm starting to doubt that ... 
 And before I sign off on this, I wanted to address one more thing (that I specifically looked for in my re-watch) -the mention I saw floating around here, of the Wolf eyes on Longclaws hilt opening as Jon emerged from the frozen lake -it did look like that, but it was just a shadow-a trick of the light, if you go back and watch it. 😉 
 Thanks for tuning in again. See you next week for my final recap of the season. And FYI: my kiddos start school the next day, so I can't stay up til 2 am recapping -my recap will be posted on Monday, instead. ✌🏻
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alightinthelantern · 5 years ago
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Because the decade is ending I’ve been revisiting old interests and past fandoms from when I was a teen, and boy is it a trip down Memory Lane.
Listening to old Vocaloid songs from when I was in high school back in 2010, when I was 15 and new to internet culture, and it was one of the first Japanese culture I ever discovered. Apparently Vocaloids are still a thing? I knew Miku was still popular bc I’d seen stuff in the past year featuring her, but apparently the other Vocaloid characters are too, and there’ve been a whole bunch of new ones introduced in the past decade? I remember when the whole Daughter of Evil saga was being created. I remember all the alt characters people created by taking the main vocaloids and pitch-altering their voice banks. The Vocaloid community was fresh and thriving back then. That was back when Gender-Bending was a staple of fandom culture, and making male “versions” of female characters and vice versa was hugely popular. This was when “Caramelldansen” and “Ievan Polkka” weren’t Classic Memes, this was when they were new, and all the rage.
I remember the Gamecube days, back in the 2000s, and watching my stepbrothers battle my sisters interchangeably on it or the old Nintento 64 they had, in Mario Kart, or Mortal Kombat, or the original Smash Brothers (I, who had terrible hand-eye coordination, wasn’t fit for playing, but was more content to passively enjoy anyway). I remember when the Wii was first introduced (my mother didn’t believe in video games for a long time, and only bought a console for the family about four years later). I remember the GameBoy, I remember the release of the first XBox. I remember the online dress-up doll games. I remember when the Lego Star Wars video game was first released, and being an avid fanatic of those famous bricks as a kid enjoyed watching my siblings play that probably more than than anything else.
I remember how huge the cosplay scene was in the early 2010s, for all kinds of shows. I remember reading Emma: A Victorian Romance by Kaoru Mori with glee as a teen, siting in a bean bag chair in the Teen Area of my local library, because they had a dedicated manga section and had the entire print run. That was back before Borders was bought out by Barnes & Noble and ceased to be, and I’d often sit in the second-floor manga section of my local Borders and read the volumes that caught my eye for a half-hour or more, and the store clerks didn’t care because it was a different world then, a different culture, and I was always a polite, well-behaved kid anyway who always physically respected the books. Apparently the anime adaptation of Mori’s Emma from years ago finally got an English dub in the past year? I’m going to have to track it down and give it a watch.
I remember loving the Romeo x Juliet anime as a teen, that crazy and brilliantly original high-fantasy reimagining of the classic play. I loved that the English dub script was mostly in Elizabethan-era English. I remember Ouran Host Club and Baccano! too, and the first of those being one of the funniest things I’d ever seen in my life at the time. Same with The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. I remember liking Fruits Basket back in 1010, and only realizing years later how fucked up it actually was. I remember Baccano! and Nabari No Ou. I also remember some other shows whose names don’t bear repeating. I remember downloading their OSTs off dedicated websites that no longer exist. I still have these soundtracks in my iTunes library. I remember when burning playlists onto CDs was popular; they finally became obsolete and passé sometime in my high school years, after the rise of mp3 players and programs like iTunes crystallized the superiority of the .mp3, and then people would laugh when I mentioned my own burned CD collection.
I remember when Over the Garden Wall first came out, in 2014, and how groundbreaking it was at the time in terms of what an animated show could be, visually and plot-wise. That show still has a small bud dedicated fandom it seems. I remember the character ask-blogs that were so popular from 2014--16 on tumblr, both ones with drawn replies and ones with live cosplay photos or gifs. God, the ask-blog community was so huge at the time. That might have been the height of tumblr’s popularity, the mid-2010s. I remember DeviantART and the thriving fanart community it had before tumblr took over in the early 2010s. I remember all OCs people were making, and the ask-accounts before ask-blogs were a thing. I remember the roleplay groups. I remember all the fucked-up things people were into back then because the Scene Phase had come but not yet entirely gone, and because teens were emo little shits in general. I remember when anime pairings were written as “[name] x [name]” in full before people started mashing names together around 2014, I remember when words like y*oi and y*ri were the norm. Oh how times have changed. (And thank god they’ve changed)
I remember when the Twilight movies were being made and my high school health teacher put the first movie on in class one day and had the class point out different ways in with the romance was toxic and unhealthy. It’s mind-boggling that in 2019, after The Discourse had come, burned, raged, and gone, that people are still stupid enough to like those films. Even back then I was smart enough to see them for the creepy, badly-written dreck that they were. I remember when The Hunger Games was published (I never read it). I remember the first Hunger Games Movie coming out and the controversy surrounding Jennifer Lawrence being cast as the lead. I remember coming into school one day to find two of my teachers casually debating it (I never saw the movies, and didn’t particularly care about that conversation).
I remember watching an independent showing of Studio Ghibli’s From Up on Poppy Hill in 2015 at a local indie theater, and the audience roaring with laughter when one of the boys at the old club house asked “How can we make archaeology cool again?!” and another replying “We can’t!”, and then a woman in the audience said out loud “Archaeology is cool!”
I remember the birth, life and death of Vine, and despite The Discourse raging on tumblr at the time, the humor on that app was still largely Mainstream and often racist.
I remember Teen Wolf, and Glee, Sherlock and Supernatural and Doctor Who. I remember the emergence of “Superwholock” and the sheer insufferableness of the fandom before they eventually, blessedly died out. I remember the disappearance of shows like J*njou R*omantica and the rise of shows like Free! and Yuri on Ice!!!, Modern “woke” animes that still featured vapid, cliché-driven writing, with Modern “woke” audiences that were puerile-minded and cliché-hungry as ever, the same y*oi fangirls as those that had existed in the early 2010s, only now the shows had done away with the nasty R*pe-As-Romance and replaced it with cringey, ham-fisted pretenses of Realistic Psychology or Social Conscience. And I realized that anime fans my age weren’t worth their salt, and by that time I was too old for anime anyway so I finally dropped it. New animes have come and gone, new live action shows have come and gone, and all the same terrible fandom drama that has burned year after year regardless of show still burns. Same shit, different sewer.
I remember how different online culture was for teens a decade ago. I remember how different real life was for teens a decade ago. Everything has changed so much in the past decade. Teens were children when I was teen. Now, ten years later, teens are like miniature adults, thinking and speaking maturely, socially and politically conscious, wise beyond their years. Racism is acknowledged for the evil it is, and bigoted trolls are no longer socially accepted. When I was a teen, been an edgelord was in, and kids like me who were unusually conscientious were labeled Babies and Oversensitive whenever something didn’t sit right and we voiced objections. Anons telling people to kill themselves was routine. People were violent and ruthless online, and the culture was truly reminiscent of The Lord of The Flies, a cutthroat free-for-all among girls and boys of all ages.
But not anymore: as people keep saying these days, being an Asshole is Out, being Kind is In. Shit like H*zbin H*tel, that would’ve been immensely popular ten years ago, is acknowledged for the violent, vile crap it is. And the language around sexuality and gender has changed so drastically, and has opened up so much. There was no trans content a decade ago in fandom, and Gender-bending, when done to explore the social ramifications of a character as the “opposite gender” (because nothing outside the gender binary existed as far as fandom was then concerned), and not just for titillation, was always cisgendered and done by way of Alternate Universes.
I had a miserable experience as a teen, and I wish that I could have experienced this kind of environment in my formative years rather than the one I did. But although I never did, I am so happy for the teens of today, that they are able to experience this kind of social openness, that they can experience this kind of unity and conscientiousness that exists in a way it never did before. That, even with as bleak and awful as the world is, they are fighting to make it better for themselves. Because it really was them that changed it.
Because, as much as Millennials like to pretend otherwise, we didn’t make the internet culture what it is today, We were edgy shitlord brats who loved laughably bad media, whether it was edgy and featured protagonists who murdered for fun, or maudlin and featured Mary Sue protagonists. We had flame wars over who was “uke or seme” for characters that weren’t even gay. We were nasty piss-stains, and even the teens like me who were better than the rest still had our awful moments. I’ve done and said things as a teen that I’m ashamed of, and no amount of nostalgia can change the fact that fandom and the media it consumed was objectively awful a decade ago. And though “Fandom Moms” and other nasty, disgusting, overgrown-children may be a proud bastion and defenders of the Old Ways, reminiscing about their LiveJournal Days and telling themselves their age is somehow indicative of wisdom rather than how creepy and pathetic they really are, their days are numbered, and I can’t wait to see their +30yo asses slowly die out in the face of progress.
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thechasefiles · 5 years ago
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The Chase Files Daily Newscap 29/10/2019
Good Morning #realdreamchasers. Here is your daily news cap for Tuesday, October 29th, 2019. There is a lot to read and digest so take your time. Remember you can read full articles via Barbados Government Information Service (BGIS), Barbados Today (BT), or by purchasing a Daily Nation Newspaper (DN).
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DEPEIZA ALARMED BY QEH APPOINTMENT – Democratic Labour Party (DLP) president Verla De Peiza says she is alarmed by the recent appointment of an executive chairman of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital (QEH), deeming the process undemocratic. She said that putting Juliette Bynoe-Sutherland into the “as yet unfounded position of executive chair” was not just an issue of nepotism and optics, as she was the wife of a minister of Government, but went to the heart of the process. “This has more to do with the circumstances of the purported appointment. To date, no such position exists. Her ‘appointment’ was announced on the floor of the House [of Assembly] at the very same time that the amendment to the legislation to make it legal was being debated. (DN)
A BISHOP’S WORD – Opposition Leader Bishop Joseph Atherley says he never expected to be in Prime Minister Mia Mottley’s Cabinet. Setting the record straight, “once and for all”, the Member of Parliament for St Michael West knocked down suggestions from Prime Minister Mottley over the weekend that his motivation for severing ties with the BLP, was linked to her decision not to give him a ministry to run. “I did not leave the Barbados Labour Party and go into Opposition because I did not get a post in Miss Mottley’s Cabinet. I have said it before and it bears repeating, that was not my motivation for going over to the other side. In fact, I never expected to be appointed to Miss Mottley’s Cabinet,” said Atherley. Furthermore, Atherley has categorically dismissed the notion that he took on the Opposition challenge in the House of Assembly with the formation of the People’s Party for Democracy and Development (PdP) simply to gain access to the $300,000 subvention. Delivering the feature remarks on day one of the BLP’s annual conference over the weekend, Mottley said: “I can’t say, but I know it is my judgement and not nobody else’s, you can decide what you want to believe, but it is my judgement that Joe Atherley is where he is today because I did not offer him a position in the Cabinet of Barbados. He wants straight talk, so let us get to straight talk. “But I go further, that there would be no PdP if there was not the belief on some people’s part in the precincts of Parliament that they could go and share in a subvention for political parties.” However, in a staunch defence of his decision to cross the floor, Atherley revealed that he had never entertained any expectation of a Cabinet post and would have conveyed as much to his constituents and supporters long before the May 2018 election. “Those who worked with me in my election campaign can tell you that repeatedly during the course of the election campaign, I would have said to them, ‘if any of you is in here because you all believe that if the BLP wins the election that I am going to be a Cabinet Minister and in a position to help you, then you need to disabuse yourself of that thinking because I do not expect to be in Miss Mottley’s Cabinet’. So if that was my spirit before the election then there is no way that not having a Cabinet post would have caused me to leave the BLP,” he stressed. The Opposition Leader went on to challenge Mottley to state whether the topic of a Cabinet position ever entered the discourse, when he  informed her of his decision to leave the party. “In nothing which I said to the Prime Minister in terms of crossing the floor, did I ever raise any issue with respect to any Cabinet position. I never gave so much as a hint that would suggest that I wanted a Cabinet position,” he said. It was with this same vigour that Atherley defended the decision to form the PDP, noting that at no stage did the thought of accessing taxpayer financing, factor into the equation. “The formation of the PdP has nothing to do with any subvention. The formation of the PDP results from my sense that I can present a better opposition to the now Government in the interest of the people of Barbados, if I could find people of like mind and of like interest, who would come together and give Barbados a credible legitimate alternative to the now Government. The formation of the PdP helps me as the singular member of the Opposition side,” he contended. Although he noted that he was not going to get into a political tussle over whether his party was entitled to share in the subvention, he suggested that the Prime Minister’s interpretation of the criteria was off. From the party platform on Saturday Mottley said: “I want you to know and the rest of the country that when that subvention was first formulated, the rule for access to the subvention was that you must have had run in the last general election and fielded at least one third of the Cabinet in Parliament, so Joe, luck buss! You got to wait and win some seats next time around.” However, Atherley told Barbados TODAY that he knew there were some within the Prime Minister’s party that disagreed with that view. (BT)
PLANS FOR CASHLESS TRANSPORT BOARD - Having worked to increase bus availability at the Transport Board which he says was “job No.1”, chairman Ian Gooding-Edghill is ready to continue working on regaining the public’s confidence. Reporting on the affairs of the state-owned enterprise during the Barbados Labour Party’s 81st annual conference yesterday, he outlined some of the plans. “I intend, once we get bus availability up to the required standard, to have a dedicated school bus service for the country; . . we will do [it], and it can be done. We’re also going to move to a situation where we’re going to have a cashless system, what you’ll refer to as an automatic fare collection system. “You have this issue of the fare boxes. I want you, in modern times, . . . download an app and buy bus fare on your app and . . . you can go to the bus and . . . you can tap or present your phone as an app and . . . pay for your ride,” he told those gathered in Queen’s Park. “We also are going to work hard like I said in stabilizing bus availability. We also have to ensure that we procure some new buses, but I will not speak about that on this occasion; but we are going to adhere to the fleet replacement programme for the Transport Board. “We’ve already established committees to work with us on several fronts, and again, it’s about deepening the process of decision making within the Transport Board as we go forward from strength to strength,” he said. The chairman noted, that notwithstanding its cash flow problems, the board had managed the profit and loss situation and is working on integrating workers in an enfranchisement model. Also on the agenda is to introduce new technology that would allow commuters to know when the buses are “likely to arrive and how best you can follow departures as you move through”. He added: “It’s been a long ride. It’s been a process that required tough decisions, but we made the decisions. We did a good job in trying to win back the confidence of the public, but we also did a better job in trying to stabilise bus availability. When I joined (six months ago), the bus availability was hovering around 33 buses, today we are moving in the right direction.” The chairman said he was “confident that with the continued support” of the Ministry [of Transport and Works Minister, Dr William Duguid, the Ministry of Fin ance, management and staff of the Transport Board, and Cabinet “a lot more” would be accomplished. (DN)
TIGHTER GUARD – Security at the Bridgetown Port will soon be dramatically tightened, Fort Knox-style! Chairman of Port Senator Lisa Cummins has revealed that with a state-of-the-art scanner soon to be installed along with approximately 500 CCTV cameras and a 24-hour dedicated command centre and with a K9 unit with ammunition and sniffing dogs already in place, security at Bridgetown’s main port of entry will be significantly boosted. She made the declaration over the weekend while speaking at the Barbados Labour Party’s (BLP) 81st annual general conference which was held in Queen’s Park. “We are aware that there have been some concerns and the Attorney General has been in constant contact and the Prime Minister, in her role as the national security chairman. We are in the process of completing installation on a new scanner which is going to take us to 100 per cent scanning,” Cummins disclosed. “The new scanner is going to be lifted into that facility on October 28 and the team from the security company will be on hand here in Barbados and we will have that operational thereafter in a few weeks once we have put up the radiation fences and everything around it. But we are committed to ensuring that we protect border security.” Cummins said the CCTV system, the command centre and the new canine unit would bolster security at the Bridgetown Port like never seen before. “We are in the process of rolling out CCTV coverage throughout the Port. Close to 500 cameras are expected to be installed by the time the project is completed and we are well underway. We have also purchased and they are here already in service, ammunition sniffing dogs as well as those who take responsibility for organic material. There is a fleet of four new dogs and they are already working in the Port in collaboration with the Royal Barbados Police Force. “We have also installed a state-of-the-art command centre in the Bridgetown Port. It is manned on a 24-hour basis by teams comprising the Barbados Port, the Royal Barbados Police Force, the Customs Department and the Barbados Defence Force. The cameras will feed into that command centre and every scan will be interpreted in real time in less than six seconds by personnel in that command center which is already operational,” Senator Cummins explained. “We went from having no new scanners purchased for six years to having a fully operational command centre, one fully running scanner and a new one about to be installed and we will have a third scanner during the course of the next financial year,” she further added. (BT)
BIGGER SLICE – After about six months of negotiations, Barbados is now in a position to sink its teeth into a bigger piece of the tourism pie from the European market. Today at around 2:50 p.m., Barbados welcomed its first ever non-stop ten-hour flight from Frankfurt, Germany. The Eurowings flight LH 5432, a subsidiary of Lufthansa Airlines, touched down at the  Grantley Adams International Airport (GAIA) with almost 300 passengers who sported straw hats finished with a blue ribbon, which bore the word ‘Barbados’. Following the merriment and handing out of welcome gifts to the passengers, Minister of Tourism and International Transport Kerrie Symmonds told a gathering of airline and local tourism officials that the decision taken by Lufthansa officials to fly to Bridgetown three times weekly was a show of confidence in the Barbados economy. (BT)
STRAUGHN TO LEAD DEBATE ON FOREIGN DEBT –Minister in the Ministry of Finance, Ryan Straughn, will move the passing of a Resolution tomorrow in the House of Assembly to restructure Barbados’ foreign debt. The passing of the Resolution will allow for Government to launch the external debt exchange to replace the existing foreign commercial debt with two new bonds. Straughn said the indicative terms would see a new ten-year bond issued, resulting in a 25 per cent reduction in principal, a 35 per cent reduction in accrued interest at an interest rate of 6.5 per cent payable semi-annually, and include an adverse weather clause. “At the conclusion of this debt exchange, the way would be paved for the rating agencies to reassess the credit worthiness of the Government of Barbados, which should lead to the upgrade of our external credit rating, the first for a decade,” he added. The Minister said that with the settlement of the external debt, Barbados would be on track to meet the six per cent primary surplus, placing the public debt on a more sustainable path towards achieving the 60 per cent debt to GDP target by 2033 as part of the Barbados Economic Recovery and Transformation programme. (BGIS)
PM MOTTLEY TO HOSE CSME TOWN HALL MEETING – “What is in it for me?” Barbadians and other persons in the region will get the opportunity to have this question answered, at a special town hall meeting next week, on the CARICOM Single Market and Economy (CSME). Prime Minister Mia Amor Mottley, in her capacity as lead head with responsibility for the CSME in CARICOM’S quasi cabinet, will be the featured speaker at the event, which takes place on Monday, November 4, at the Walcott–Warner Theatre, Errol Barrow Centre for Creative Imagination, Cave Hill, St Michael, from 6 to 8 p.m.  Mottley will be joined by CARICOM Secretary General, Ambassador Irwin LaRocque; Principal of the University of the West Indies, Professor Eudine Barriteau; President of the Caribbean Development Bank, Dr Warren Smith; and CARICOM Assistant Secretary General, Joseph Cox. Communications Specialist, CSME Unit, Salas Hamilton, will be the moderator. They will examine the topics: Free Movement and Contingent Rights, Development of Skills within the Region and the Human Resource Development Strategy, Transportation, Trade Related Matters, CSME Implementation, and Financial Cooperation and Investment Policy. An interactive question and answer session will follow.The event is being coordinated by the University of the West Indies, the Prime Minister’s Office and the CARICOM Secretariat, and will be televised and livestreamed. The meeting will be preceded by a Regional Stakeholders’ Consultation on the CARICOM Single Market and Economy, involving Members of Parliament, CARICOM Ambassadors and honorary consuls in Barbados, CSME focal points, regional institutions, international development partners, non-governmental organisations, the diplomatic corps, the private sector, labour, civil society, and the youth and farmers’ associations, among others.  The session will allow for information sharing, exchange of ideas and communication of interests, objectives and concerns on the CSME, and will ensure that participants have a greater knowledge and awareness of what the CSME can do for them, and what role they play in the development of the region.Designed to raise awareness about the CSME and its régimes/arrangements, it will also elicit labour’s position, as well as the needs of the private sector in identifying key issues that must be addressed within the CSME, in order for there to be greater ownership and participation throughout the region.  The findings of the stakeholders’ consultation will be presented to Heads of Government to inform their decisions and policy implementation. Prime Minister Mottley will assume chairmanship of CARICOM on January 1, 2020 and Barbados will host the upcoming Intersessional Conference of Heads of Government of the Caribbean Community, from February 18 to 19, of that year. (BGIS)
PLASTIC BAG BAN ON JANUARY 1, 2020 – Members of the public are reminded that the ban on single use petro-based plastic bags will come into effect from Wednesday, January 1, 2020. Wholesalers, retailers, supermarkets and those who use plastic bags in the operation of their businesses are therefore urged to seek out alternative products before the ban takes effect. Those who contravene the regulations could face stiff penalties. (BGIS)
MORE TIME NEEDED TO FIX HIGHWAY 1 WORK – After three months of complaining about traffic diversions as well as noise and dust pollution from phase one of the $7.1 million Adaptation Measures to Counteract the Effects of Climate Change (AMCECC) ‘Ridge to Reef’ project, residents and businesses in Holetown, St James, are being asked to hold strain a little longer. This morning Minister of Transport and Works, William Duguid, promised that relief from the inconvenience was close at hand, even though he was unable to say exactly when the work, which has resulted in section of the heavily travelled main road being out of commission, would be complete. “That project is one that is being done by the Ministry of the Environment and I have asked them multiple times about when the road would be completed because the travelling public needs to know when that section of Highway 1 would be re-opened. They are suggesting that they would get it done very shortly but they have not given me a time even though I wish that they would have, so that I could hold them to that timeline,” said Duguid, who along with Member of Parliament for St James North, Edmund Hinkson, did a tour of flood-prone sections of the constituency this morning. Acknowledging that this phase of the project was only supposed to take two months, Duguid explained that the contractors carrying out the works would have encountered several major unforeseen challenges. “They are working very quickly and as fast as they can. They recognize that they have had some lengthening of the timelines because they had some issues with the water table, and you have to understand that there are a lot of services that go under that road. We are talking water mains, natural gas mains and also internet cable that run right along that road. This gave them some challenges in terms of getting the appropriate depth,” he explained. In August, residents told Barbados TODAY that with all vehicles now diverted through the upscale Sunset Crest community, many of the roads have been transformed into one way streets, while the dust and noise have increased significantly. The project, which is being carried out by construction firm INFRA Inc., consists of culvert replacements, grass swale improvement and the reconstruction of concrete water channels. While residents appreciate the importance of the project, which is aimed at flood mitigation, they would like the pace of the work to be stepped up. However, this morning Hinkson urged his constituents to exercise patience as he believes that the benefits to be derived in the long-run are well worth the inconveniences now. “Yes, it has taken longer than the two months we were initially told and yes the works continue to be an inconvenience both for the residents and businesses out there. They have made legitimate complaints, but I think that the reality that we as a people have to understand is that you have to suffer some inconvenience in life for things to get better. At the end of the day when the works are finished, life would be improved, the roads would be better, drainage would be better,” said Hinkson. (BT)
THUGS CREATE PANIC IN WELL GAP - Two young children on their way home from school almost became the 41st and 42nd murder victims for 2019 when brazen gunmen launched an attack in Well Gap, Cave Hill, St Michael this afternoon. According to eyewitness reports, around 3 o’clock at least two men in a white car approached the area. One got out of the vehicle and recklessly opened fire where numerous women and young children were walking. Many reported hearing at least six loud explosions, which sent pedestrians running for their lives and leaving others in fear that the shooters could return hours after the ordeal. “There’s a lot of panic, shock and surprise, because it happened in the daytime. Nothing like this has happened in a while out here so people are very surprised and concerned, especially about the two children,” said one woman, who explained that two young students of Grazettes Primary were approximately two feet away from where the gunman was shooting. Residents reported the vehicle from which the shooter emerged had been circling the district suspiciously throughout the day before acting. Another lady who is pregnant was standing near her front porch with her daughter and was talking with three girlfriends when the gunman passed nearby. “In two-twos we just heard ‘pax pax pax pax’ and then these two little children were coming home from school and when they got by the track by us, the person was still shooting and the two children were there and one of the little boys froze and the other one ran. I had to push them into my house until the gunman got back into the white car,” she revealed. “Those could have been my children and I felt really badly just now. As a pregnant person, I thought I would have gone into labour just now, because of how frightened I was. My stomach started to hurt me and the little children were so frightened that they were not even speaking.” Moments later, scores of heavily armed police officers and a handful of Barbados Defence Force (BDF) soldiers closed off the often busy road to investigate. While residents are thankful that no one was hurt, many revealed the harrowing ordeal brought back memories of a time when the community was considered a crime ‘hotspot’ and expressed hope that those days would never return. “The person who did that should realise this is a place where a lot of people live. Why would they come and do that?” asked one resident. “We haven’t had this shooting thing in our district for so long and it was so nice to see that police didn’t have to come around here, so I don’t know why someone would come out here and do that in a district like this.” The two young children who narrowly escaped serious injury or death were reportedly taken home by their mother still traumatised. (BT)
MIXED VIEWS ON CITY KILLING – Residents in Combermere Street, The City, have mixed emotions over the shooting death of Jamar Omar “Red Dog” Haynes. To his close friend Nakita “Muscle Cat” Jones, he was a flawed but dear friend, one she was going to miss. But to many others, he was one who robbed people and brought his death upon himself. The 32-year-old was gunned down on Saturday night on Combermere Street, The City, not far from where he was staying with Jones. Haynes, whose death was the 40th killing for the year, was originally from Yearwood Road, Sugar Hill, St Joseph. (DN)
WANTED: NICHOLAS BRIAN BISHOP –Nicholas Brian Bishop is wanted by police for questioning in connection with a serious criminal matter. The 40-year-old of Hoytes Village, St James, has a brown complexion and is medium built, with brown eyes. Bishop, who is 5’8”, can present himself to the Holetown Police Station, accompanied by an attorney. Any person who may know his whereabouts is asked to contact the Holetown Police Station at 419-1700, Police Emergency at 211, Crime Stoppers at 1-800-TIPS (8477) or the nearest police station. (DN)
NELSON STREET MURDER – Accused Ryan Omar Samuel today pleaded not guilty to murdering Charley Dume over four years ago, at a bar on the corner of Nelson Street and Wellington Street, paving the way for his trial by jury. Twelve jurors were selected this afternoon in the No. 2 Supreme Court to hear the case in which Samuel, of Grape Hall, St Lucy is charged with Dume’s shooting death on April 26, 2014. Attorney-at-law Mohia Ma’at is representing Samuel, who was 33 years old at the time he was charged, while Principal Crown Counsel Alliston Seale is the prosecutor. Addressing the jury in his opening submissions the Crown’s representative informed the court which is presided over by Justice Randall Worrell that the case was about a group of men going to a bar at Nelson Street and, “In that bar or on the premises either inside and outside,” there was an argument between persons. “It led to a fracas, a noise, a disturbance and out of that disturbance, the Crown is alleging that the accused drew a firearm and shot and killed Charlie Dume. That is as simple as it is in a nutshell. It is then our duty to bring witnesses to support this,” Seale said before calling his first witness, a police photographer, to the stand to give evidence of pictures he took of the scene. The case continues tomorrow. (BT)
AMMUNITION CHARGE LANDS CALLENDER IN DODDS – Donate Chriscio Evantico Callender, of Maxwell, Christ Church was today remanded to prison on firearm and ammunition charges. It is alleged that the 21-year-old, unemployed man, had the weapon and four rounds of ammunition in his possession on October 24 when he did not have the necessary licences to do so. Callender, who is represented by attorney-at-law Angella Mitchell-Gittens, was not required to plead to the indictable charges when he appeared before Magistrate Kristie Cuffy-Sargeant. He was automatically remanded to HMP Dodds for 28 days and will make his next appearance in the No.2 District ‘A’ Magistrates’ Court on November 25.(BT)
LUCAS RETURNS TO COURT NEXT YEAR – A 38-year-old unemployed man was granted $1,500 bail today in the No. 2 District ‘A’ Magistrates’ Court on three drug charges. Mark Anthony Lucas, of Block H3 Field Place, Bayville, St Michael, is charged with possession, possession with intent to supply and possession with intent to traffic $183 worth of cannabis. The accused pleaded not guilty to the charges which are alleged to have been committed on October 26. There were no objections to bail from the prosecutor and Lucas was released after his surety was accepted. He will reppear before Magistrate Krisite Cuffy-Sargeant on March 19, 2020. (BT)
GOODRIDGE FACING SERIOUS CHARGE – A 42-year-old painter was granted $10,000 bail today in the District ‘ ‘ Magistrates’ on a single offence . Junior Orman Goodridge, of Wardland, Goodland, St Michael is charged that sometime on October 26 he did cause serious bodily harm to Anthony Clarke with intent to maim, disfigure or disable him. The charge is indictable and as such Goodridge was not required to plead. There was no objection from the prosecution. However the Crown requested that conditions be attached to Goodridge’s bail which he secured with one surety. The accused must now report to the Black Rock Police Station every Thursday before noon with valid identification and must also stay away from the complainant. Good ridge has been ordered to reappear before Magistrate Kristie Cuffy-Sargeant on March 19, 2020. (BT)
WALCOTT REPEATS – Barbadian Rico Walcott retained his Century Downs riding title in dramatic fashion yesterday, when he reeled off a triple on the season-ending 11-race card, to edge Venezuelan Rigo Sarmiento. (BT)
ALEXANDRA SCHOOL PREPARING STUDENTS FOR GLOBAL ECONOMY – ALEXANDRA SCHOOL is producing outstanding students fit for a rapidly-changing global society. That was touted of her alma mater by Dr Ramona Archer-Bradshaw, acting deputy principal of Erdiston Teachers’ Training College, a tutor and researcher, who delivered the second Grace Thompson Memorial Lecture at the school to mark the institution’s 125th anniversary. “The school has equipped its students with the knowledge, attitudes and skills to excel in an ever-changing technologically-driven global society,” she said on Saturday. “It is a fact that Alexandra School has not only reached the objectives as set out by the [Ministry of Education] but we have excelled over the past 125 years,” she added. In a review of the school’s history, the educator argued that the core values including discipline and focus on excellence in the academics, sports and culture were reflected in adult life. “There is a saying . . . that good manners can open doors that the best education cannot . . . . For us at Alexandra, this was absolutely true . . . for while preparation for examinations was important, preparation for life was the ultimate. (DN)
HARRISON COLLEGE GETS LEARNING BOOST – A number of local businesses have joined forces with the Rotary Club of Barbados West to improve the learning experience at Harrison College. They have provided a total of 65 white boards at a cost of just over $20,000 to outfit each classroom, which officials say should eliminate the need for chalk and make it easier for teachers and students to cope. The efforts were led by Deputy Chairman of the board of management of Harrison College Joseph Steinbok. At a brief official handing over ceremony on Friday at the school’s Crumpton Street location, Steinbok said he was aware that government was not able to provide all the needs of the secondary schools across the country. He said with that in mind, it was easy for him to spring into action and encourage others to contribute to the project. “I think we all realize that the government doesn’t have the expenditure to support the schools with everything that they need,” said Steinbok. “I want to reassure you that your school board continues to respond and will continue to respond to the needs of the school as best as they can . . . and we hope that you will care the stuff and use it to the best of your abilities,” he said. President of the Rotary Club of Barbados West Jean St John said supporting education was one of the roles the Rotary club of Barbados was committed to. Parent Teachers Association (PTA) President Ayo Burrowes explained that the decision to replace the blackboards with whiteboards came after a parent of one of the second form students put forward the suggestion. However, after the cost proved to be prohibitive for the PTA, they gave the student body and parents to help raise funds, which garnered only about $2,000. Despite a donation of about three of the white boards along with the funds raised, that was still not enough to furnish the entire school. It was then that other members of corporate Barbados came on board. The five businesses are Grantofix Inc, Coles Construction Inc, Edghill Associates Ltd, ESC Inc., and Moorjani Caribbean (Barbados) Ltd. The $2000 collected by the students and parents went toward the purchase of associated accessories including markets and dusters. Principal of the learning institution Juanita Wade thanked the business community for their donation.Delivering a message on behalf of the Chairman of the Board of Directors at the school Andrew Pilgrim, the principal said it was clear that Government alone could not provide the necessary furnishings for schools across the island. “I am sure that especially the teachers are happy that we don’t have to deal with chalk anymore as we know sometimes there are students who could have allergic reaction and teachers who struggle with the chalk board. We are really happy to move into this century,” she said. “We recognize that government cannot do everything and we are very happy to partner with corporate Barbados anytime we have the opportunity because it can only redound to the benefit of you students and our staff. So I take this opportunity to them for assisting us and make an appeal to corporate Barbados to continue to assist us with our projects because we recognize that it is by having these kinds of partnerships that the school will be able to progress,” she added. (BT)
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insanereddragon · 7 years ago
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11 Questions (x4!)
1. always post the rules. 2. answer the questions given by the person who tagged you. 3. write 11 questions of your own and tag 11 (or however many) people to answer them.
Apparently, you guys are thirsty to know more about me. I was tagged by @hisreindeerjumper @thisbirdhadflown​ @corabe​ and @elletromil​! So 44 answers incoming, under the cut.
(from hisreindeerjumper)
1. What fandom have you been involved in that’s your favorite to date?
Are you seriously going to make me choose between Hannibal and Kingsman? I’ve met so many wonderful people in both fandoms, and while every fandom has their occasional drama and discourse, I’ve found both of these ones are generally such positive and welcoming places, full of top notch creators and consumers alike.
*sighs* Okay, I guess if push came to shove, I’d choose Kingsman, if for no other reason that it is where I met @elletromil, and I’m sure you all know how much I absolutely adore that woman.
2. What did you want to grow up to be when you were little?
Paleontologist, then a cop, and then a forensic psychologist. I figured out at the end of my first year uni that psychology wasn’t for me, but ended up getting a degree in it anyways.
3. Favorite places to shop online?
I don’t shop much online anymore, but when I do it’s mostly on Society6 and Redbubble because I adore supporting all the wonderful artists in our fandoms.
4. first kiss! tell me all about it! and i you haven’t been kissed yet, how do you want it to go down? do you want to be kissed at all?
It was kindergarten (about 6 years old), and I dragged a boy behind the toy cubbies. 
5. who was the first author that you read with a voracious hunger?
Brian Jacques and the Redwall series. It was my first ‘fandom’, and it lead to me doing email RPs for a few years.
6. what color looks best on you?
Black or green, but I can pull off certain shades of red on occasion.
7. do you read your horoscope?
Nope.
8. what are you most proud of in your life?
I guess maybe starting a long running anime convention.
9. favorite food & why!
It’s a toss up between my family potato soup or biscuits and gravy. Both remind me of feeling warm and loved during times that were sometimes less in both of those things.
10. what scent do you have the strongest memory association with?
There is one scent, and I don’t even know what it is -- I can’t even describe it -- but whenever I smell it I vividly remember this one summer when I was a child. I don’t smell it often at all, but it always hits me like a punch to the gut just how vividly I remember everything from that summer.
11. favorite tea flavor!
Chamomile, but I like white and other herbal teas too.
(from thisbirdhadflown)
1. We all did embarrassing things as teenagers. Share a story!
I tried to dye my hair blue while I was at boarding school, and instead it failed miserably and I ended up with this sea foam green hair. It was awful. For my birthday that year my mom paid for a stylist to dye it back to my normal brown color because it was so embarrassing I didn’t want to wait for it to grow out.
2. What is a headcanon for one of your OTPs?
Thanks to @deepdarkwaters I will always think that Harry and Merlin communicate secretly to each other (morse code or sign language, or the one time that Harry actually had to use flag semaphore XD)
3. One book that had a huge influence on you?
Hrm, I’m not sure that I have a single book that was a ‘huge influence’ on me. I certainly have favourites, and I’m sure that I’ve taken lessons or ideas from many of the books that I’ve read, but never one that sticks out like a beacon of light.
4. Who is one misunderstood character?
No Face from Spirited Away
5. What are your pet peeves?
Sheets that aren’t laying flat. People flushing with the lid to the toilet open. People who refuse to move to the back of the bus. Wet socks.
6. One thing you wish you knew as a child/teen that you know now?
That the anger and resentment wasn’t worth it, and that forgiveness would be something that I'd be able to find.
7. Would you like to be famous? In what way?
God no, I could never stand my life ending up under the scrutiny that seems to inevitably come from fame.
8. Best part about getting older?
The freedom to do what you want, once you realize that it’s okay to let yourself do those things.
9. One thing you really enjoy and one thing you really dislike about fandom?
I love the sheer creative output - so many unique ‘verses and ideas all starting with the (sometimes very) limited source material. Just an endless amount of ideas that I never would have thought of, but are amazing and wonderful all the same (even if I don’t like them personally).
I hate that sometimes expressing non-popular viewpoints, even politely and in the confines of one's own personal blog, can spiral out of control into massive discourse and drama. The downfall of connecting to fandom on a site like tumblr and the internet in general really.
10. What makes and breaks a fic for you?
The moment I can’t believe in what’s happening. A well considered crack fic is guaranteed to keep my interest, but I poorly thought out canon one is going to have me clicking the back button.
Also, formatting. Sorry guys, I try so hard not to let formatting keep me from reading a fic, but I recognize that I’m very picky about aesthetics. If it’s not laid out with proper spacing and standard book-like formatting, I’m probably not going to stick it out.
(from corbe)
1. What are you top five fandoms right now?
Hannibal, Kingsman, Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them... I don’t really do any other fandoms with any consistency.
2. What are your top five go to books right now?
I haven’t read a proper novel in a long time, so my top go to books right now are all origami books XD
3. What are your top five go to movies right now?
Kingsman, Victor Frankenstein, Mad Max Fury Road, Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, Deadpool
4. Do you have pets?
2 cats, Spork and Fruit
5.  If you could have dinner with one person from history dead or amongst the living who would you have dinner with?
I know you’re looking for someone famous or important, but if I could actually do this, I’d have one final dinner with my grandmother, before the dementia had taken over.
6. Do you like pumpkin spice?  Is it a problem for you that I absolutely adore pumpkin spice and will willing cut someone for a pumpkin spice latte?
Haha, I don’t go gaga over pumpkin spice specialty items (you could gladly have my latte, I wouldn’t drink it), but I do love the abundance of actual pumpkin items in the fall. I tend to overindulge on pumpkin pie, pumpkin muffins, and pumpkin cookies XD
7. Do you have a favorite holiday?
It’ll always be Halloween. I was a costume maker up until my kids were born. I’d start my costumes in April, and I’d spend a lot of time and money on them. Now I just do my best to give the kids decent costumes that won’t break the bank, and eat lots of chocolate.
8. Do you have a favorite rare fandom pairing, a pairing that’s hard to find fic for or not as popular?
Meeklo Braca / Scorpius (with or without the addition of Sikozu) from Farscape. I’ve reread the 33 total fic on AO3 at least a dozen times, and even keep the tags saved in the hopes something new may pop up some day, but the fandom is well and truly dead :(
9. Do you like pickles?
Yes, but only if they are dill.
10. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Just to make you feel better I do, I sleep with the bear my husband bought me when my Dad passed away.
I don’t - most of mine have been divided amongst my boys.
11.  Do you like doing crafty hobbies like sewing, knitting, metal working, or do you enjoy hobbies that involve collecting?
Haha, crafty hobbies are my thing. I sew, crochet, do origami, and make chain maille and jewelry.
(from elletromil)
1. Who was your first celebrity crush?
Jensen Ackles XD
2. For what meal do you prefer going to a restaurant? Breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner? Only a quick coffee/tea/dessert?
Breakfast, or rather breakfast food. Give me an omelette or benedicte or skillet any time, but they are always infinitely better coming from a well seasoned grill or pan. I can’t replicate that at home.
3. Would you rather clean the dishes or dry them?
DRY THEM. I hate washing dishes so very much. Thankfully Mr. Red agreed for that to be his chore around the house.
4. Are you the kind of person who puts a song on repeat until you’re tired of listening to it or do you have to always change songs?
Repeat. I’ll listen to a single song on repeat for days at a time XD
5. What supernatural/fantastic creatures would you like to be and why?
Phoenix, because I relate to the idea of rebirth from the ashes. I have one planned in one of my tattoos I hope to get.
6. Are you more afraid of what is at the bottom of the oceans or what we could find while travelling in space?
Space, because there are going to be things that we just can’t comprehend or understand.
7. You’re favourite kind of weather and why?
Bright, warm sun with a cool breeze, so I can just sit outside all day at the perfect temperature.
8. You can live anywhere you want, where would it be?
Honestly, I’m pretty happy where I am. We’ve been here for 10 years, just bought our first house. I don’t really want to be anywhere else :)
9. If you use the tumblr app on your phone, did you prefer when the bar was at the top or do you like now that it’s at the bottom? (am i still bitter about this sudden change? why yes i am XD)
Top, stupid update.
10. Did you ever watch a movie/tv show just for an actor/actress and you were sure it would be horrible, but it ended up actually being good? What was it?
I was sure I was going to hate Men & Chicken, but I was compelled by Mads and the Fannibals, and I was surprised how much I liked it. It is bizarre and definitely not for everyone, but turns it was just the right amount of strange for me.
11. You can decide on a tv show that would get a new season, a movie or a book that would get a sequel, what would it be? In a hypothetical world where the sequel/new season would be fantastic and all that you’ve ever wanted.
Hannibal Season 4. HANNIBAL SEASON 4. HANNIBAL SEASON 4. HANNIBAL SEASON 4. 
(Also Sense8, Leverage, and Dominion)
Darlings, this was too many questions. So no tags or new questions of my own. Sorry, I’m burnt!
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