#its been a YEAR and people bring up the negotiations every day

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Netflix wants to chop down your family tree

Netflix has unveiled the details of its new anti-password-sharing policy, detailing a suite of complex gymnastics that customers will be expected to undergo if their living arrangements trigger Netflix��s automated enforcement mechanisms:

https://thestreamable.com/news/confirmed-netflix-unveils-first-details-of-new-anti-password-sharing-measures

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

Netflix says that its new policy allows members of the same “household” to share an account. This policy comes with an assumption: that there is a commonly understood, universal meaning of “household,” and that software can determine who is and is not a member of your household.

This is a very old corporate delusion in the world of technology. In the early 2000s, I spent years trying to bring some balance to an effort at DVB, whose digital television standards are used in most of the world (but not the USA) when they rolled out CPCM, a DRM system that was supposed to limit video-sharing to a single household.

Their term of art for this was the “authorized domain”: a software-defined family unit whose borders were privately negotiated by corporate executives from media companies, broadcasters, tech and consumer electronics companies in closed-door sessions all around the world, with no public minutes or proceedings.

https://onezero.medium.com/the-internet-heist-part-iii-8561f6d5a4dc

These guys (they were nearly all guys) were proud of how much “flexibility” they’d built into their definition of “household.” For example, if you owned a houseboat, or a luxury car with seatback displays, or a summer villa in another country, the Authorized Domain would be able to figure out how to get the video onto all those screens.

But what about other kinds of families? I suggested that one of our test cases should be a family based in Manila: where the dad travels to remote provinces to do agricultural labor; the daughter is a nanny in California; and the son is doing construction work in the UAE. This suggestion was roundly rejected as an “edge case.”

Of course, this isn’t an edge case. There are orders of magnitude more people whose family looks like this than there are people whose family owns a villa in another country. Owning a houseboat or a luxury car makes you an outlier. Having an itinerant agricultural breadwinner in your family does not.

But everyone who is in the room when a cartel draws up a standard definition of what constitutes a household is almost certainly drawn from a pool that is more likely to have a summer villa than a child doing domestic work or construction labor half a world away. These weirdos, so dissimilar from the global majority, get to define the boxes that computers will shove the rest of the world into. If your family doesn’t look like their family, that’s tough: “Computer says no.”

One day at a CPCM meeting, we got to talking about the problem of “content laundering” and how the way to prevent it would be to put limits on how often someone could leave a household and join another one. No one, they argued, would ever have to change households every week.

I put my hand up and said, “What about a child whose divorced parents share custody of her? She’s absolutely going to change households every week.” They thought about it for a moment, then the rep from a giant IT company that had recently been convicted of criminal antitrust violations said, “Oh, we can solve that: we’ll give her a toll-free number to call when she gets locked out of her account.”

That was the solution they went with. If you are a child coping with the dissolution of your parents’ marriage, you will have the obligation to call up a media company every month — or more often — and explain that Mummy and Daddy don’t love each other any more, but can I please have my TV back?

I never forgot that day. I even wrote a science fiction story about it called (what else?) “Authorized Domain”:

https://craphound.com/news/2011/10/31/authorised-domain/

I think everyone understood that this was an absurd “solution,” but they had already decided that they were going to complete the seemingly straightforward business of defining a category like “household” using software, and once that train left the station, nothing was going to stop it.

This is a recurring form of techno-hubris: the idea that baseline concepts like “family” have crisp definitions and that any exceptions are outliers that would never swallow the rule. It’s such a common misstep that there’s a whole enre* called “Falsehoods Programmers Believe About ______”:

https://github.com/kdeldycke/awesome-falsehood

In that list: names, time, currency, birthdays, timezones, email addresses, national borders, nations, biometrics, gender, language, alphabets, phone numbers, addresses, systems of measurement, and, of course, families. These categories are touchstones in our everyday life, and we think we know what they mean — but then we try to define them, and the list of exceptions spirals out into a hairy, fractal infinity.

Historically, these fuzzy categorical edges didn’t matter so much, because they were usually interpreted by humans using common sense. My grandfather was born “Avrom Doctorovitch” (or at least, that’s one way to transliterate his name, which was spelled in a different alphabet, but which was also transliterating his first name from yet another alphabet). When he came to Canada as a refugee, his surname was anglicized to “Doctorow.” Other cousins are “Doctorov,” “Doctoroff,” and “Doktorovitch.”

Naturally, his first name could have been “Abraham” or “Abe,” but his first employer (a fellow Eastern European emigre) decided that was too ethnic and in sincere effort to help him fit in, he called my grandfather “Bill.” When my grandfather attained citizenship, his papers read “Abraham William Doctorow.” He went by “Abe,” “Billy,” “Bill,” “William,” “Abraham” and “Avrom.”

Practically, it didn’t matter that variations on all of these appeared on various forms of ID, contracts, and paperwork. His reparations check from the German government had a different variation from the name on the papers he used to open his bank account, but the bank still let him deposit it.

All of my relatives from his generation have more than one name. Another grandfather of mine was born “Aleksander,” and called “Sasha” by friends, but had his name changed to “Seymour” when he got to Canada. His ID was also a mismatched grab-bag of variations on that theme.

None of this mattered to him, either. Airlines would sell him tickets and border guards would stamp his passport and rental agencies would let him drive away in cars despite the minor variations on all his ID.

But after 9/11, all that changed, for everyone who had blithely trundled along with semi-matching names across their official papers and database entries. Suddenly, it was “computer says no” everywhere you turned, unless everything matched perfectly. There was a global rush for legal name-changes after 9/11 — not because people changed their names, but because people needed to perform the bureaucratic ritual necessary to have the name they’d used all along be recognized in these new, brittle, ambiguity-incinerating machines.

For important categories, ambiguity is a feature, not a bug. The fact that you can write anything on an envelope (including a direction to deliver the letter to the granny flat over the garage, not the front door) means that we don’t have to define “address” — we can leave it usefully hairy around the edges.

Once the database schema is formalized, then “address” gets defined too — the number of lines it can have, the number of characters each line can have, the kinds of characters and even words (woe betide anyone who lives in Scunthorpe).

If you have a “real” address, a “real” name, a “real” date of birth, all of this might seem distant to you. These “edge” cases — seasonal agricultural workers, refugees with randomly assigned “English” names — are very far from your experience.

That’s true — for now (but not forever). The “Shitty Technology Adoption Curve” describes the process by which abusive technologies work their way up the privilege gradient. Every bad technological idea is first rolled out on poor people, refugees, prisoners, kids, mental patients and other people who can’t push back.

Their bodies are used to sand the rough edges and sharp corners off the technology, to normalize it so that it can climb up through the social ranks, imposed on people with more and more power and influence. 20 years ago, if you ate your dinner under an always-on #CCTV, it was because you were in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you bought a premium home surveillance system from Google, Amazon or Apple.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

The Netflix anti-sharing tools are designed for rich people. If you travel for business and stay in the kind of hotel where the TV has its own Netflix client that you can plug your username and password into, Netflix will give you a seven-day temporary code to use.

But for the most hardcore road-warriors, Netflix has thin gruel. Unless you connect to your home wifi network every 31 days and stream a show, Netflix will lock out your devices. Once blocked, you have to “contact Netflix” (laughs in Big Tech customer service).

Why is Netflix putting the screws to its customers? It’s part of the enshittification cycle, where platform companies first allocate surpluses to their customers, luring them in and using them as bait for business customers. Once they turn up, the companies reallocate surpluses to businesses, lavishing them with low commissions and lots of revenue opportunities. And once they’re locked in, the company starts to claw back the surpluses for itself.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Remember when Netflix was in the business of mailing red envelopes full of DVDs around the country? That was allocating surpluses to users. The movie companies hated this, viewed it as theft — a proposition that was at least as valid as Netflix’s complaints about password sharing, but every pirate wants to be an admiral, and when Netflix did it to the studios, that was “progress,” but when you do it to Netflix, that’s theft.

Then, once Netflix had users locked in and migrated to the web (and later, apps), it shifted surpluses to studios, paying fat licensing fees to stream their movies and connect them to a huge audience.

Finally, once the studios were locked in, Netflix started to harvest the surplus for its shareholders: raising prices, lowering streaming rates, knocking off other studios’ best performing shows with in-house clones, etc. Users’ surpluses are also on the menu: the password “sharing” that let you define a household according to your family’s own idiosyncratic contours is unilaterally abolished in a quest to punish feckless Gen Z kids for buying avocado toast instead of their own Netflix subscriptions.

Netflix was able to ignore the studios’ outraged howls when it built a business by nonconsenually distributing their products in red envelopes. But now that Netflix has come for your family, don’t even think about giving Netfix some of what it gave to the MPAA.

As a technical matter, it’s not really that hard to modify Netflix’s app so that every stream you pull seems to come from your house, no matter where you are. But doing so would require reverse-engineering Netflix’s app, and that would violate Section 1201 of the DMCA, the CFAA, and eleventy-seven other horrible laws. Netflix’s lawyers would nuke you until the rubble bounced.

When Netflix was getting started, it could freely interoperate with the DVDs that the studios had put on the market. It could repurpose those DVDs in ways that the studios strenuously objected to. In other words, Netfix used adversarial interoperability (AKA Competitive Compatibility or ComCom) to launch its business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Today, Netflix is on the vanguard of the war to abolish adversarial interop. They helped lead the charge to pervert W3C web-standards, creating a DRM video standard called EME that made it a crime to build a full-featured browser without getting permission from media companies and restricting its functionality to their specifications:

https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/

When they used adversarial interoperability to build a multi-billion-dollar global company using the movie studios’ products in ways the studios hated, that was progress. When you define “family” in ways that makes Netflix less money, that’s felony contempt of business model.

[Image ID: A Victorian family tree template populated by tintypes of old-timey people. In the foreground stands a menacing, chainsaw-wielding figure, his face obscured by a hoodie. The blade of the chainsaw is poised to chop down the family tree. A Netflix 'N' logo has been superimposed over the man's face.]

[canmom]

dog day

went down to a local queer film thingy today and saw Dog Day Afternoon, in which Al Pacino plays attempted bank robber John Wojtowicz (nicknamed 'Sonny' in the film) who in 1972 ended up running a hostage situation and siege he really didn't intend to be in - someone who's a bit of a cause célèbre in these parts because honestly what's more iconic than robbing a bank to pay for your trans wife's bottom surgery?

(this is the real Wojtowicz during the event)

as a movie it's absolutely really solid. Pacino definitely does a fantastic job giving us a sympathetic portrayal of the increasingly harried Sonny trying to juggle all the competing elements of the robbery - reassuring his partner Sal, negotiating with the cops outside, managing the hostages. on a pure narrative level, it's a great screenplay, both full of escalating tension and capturing the humour of the unlikely camaraderie that forms between the robbers and their hostages. they get a lot out of the contrast between mundane concerns (not swearing) and the extreme situation, and it generally works really well.

the film portrays Sonny accidentally stumbling into being a folk hero - his televised calls in which he mentions the Attica massacre, and interactions with the crowd outside, becoming central the narrative that forms around the attempted robbery. it's compelling stuff even today - indeed the whole sensibility of it, the sympathetic bi and trans characters, the sympathy for all the characters, felt very modern.

speaking of, not really quite knowing the timespan of Al Pacino's career (I've still seen very few of his movies), I kinda assumed this movie would have been made, say, a couple decades after the robbery. so I was very impressed with how well it nailed the 70s period aesthetic... which turns out to be for a very simple reason, this movie was made in 1975, just three years after the events it portrays. which is wild to me, don't filmmakers normally wait a bit for it to be less 'the news' before they fictionalise the events? anyway it was a big deal in its day, scooping up a bunch of oscars.

this makes it quite interesting to look back because it really is a slice of how people felt about shit back in the 70s - as edited by the filmmakers of course, but every sentiment in this film is a genuine 70s sentiment by definition, right? the justified distrust of the police, the highly political gay angle, that's all shit we're hashing out today still. all these characters feel very much like real people out of their depth, and it's interesting to read about the process of filming it involving a fair amount of improvised elaboration.

anyway that all has the fascinating consequence that Wojtowicz was alive and watched the movie made about him. apparently there was a whole campaign to get the film screened for Wojtowicz in prison, which meant he could make a critique of it. as a result, he could write to the newspaper criticising their portrayal (via wikipedia). evidently the filmmakers took quite some liberties for drama - Wojtowicz calls it 'about 30% accurate'.

for example they portray him as still having been with his cis wife 'Angie' (irl, Carmen) at the time of the robbery, and add a fictionalised meeting with his mother where she is dismissive of Angie for weight etc., suggesting that it's somehow her fault that Sonny should go and do something as unseemly as have a relationship with a trans woman. as I took it, it's a portrayal of his mother's prejudice which the film broadly rejects - but in any case, all of that was just straight-up made up for the film, presumably because of the drama that the trans wife vs cis wife angle brings. in reality it seems that Wojtowicz separated from Carmen two years before the robbery, and he disputes her characterisation in the film (he's actually quite rude about the actress who portrays her, who to me looked like a regular-ass woman).

A third scene shows me speaking to my female wife, Carmen, on the telephone. (The actress who portrays her in the movie is an ugly and greasy looking women with a big mouth, when in real life my wife is beautiful and very loving wife.) I did try to call her, but the F.B.I. cut the phone lines and air conditioning before I could get to speak to her on the line. I did not like the horrible way they tried to make her the blame or the scapegoat for everything that happened, especially because of the Gay aspects involved. (...) First, the actress playing my wife, Carmen, made her look horrible and inferred that I left her and winded up in the arms of a Gay man because of her. This is completely untrue, and I feel sorry for the actress for having to play such a horrible role.

this is perhaps something of an aspect where values drift between when the film was made and the present. to us the idea that 'cis woman is ugly/unloving so guy is gay' is just laughable homophobic nonsense, something that the mother or the unfortunate estranged wife might believe but clearly not true - but Wojtowicz apparently felt that was a plausible editorial angle being suggested by the film, which he needed to correct.

but honestly it's Sonny's partner Sal who truly gets the short end of the portrayal stick here. he is pretty much set up with death flags from the early on - he's got greasy hair, he's taciturn, glowering, religious, kinda ignorant, and the one who's actually willing to go through with killing the hostages - in contrast to the charismatic, beleagured Sonny who definitely is framed as being in over his head and not likely to actually do it.

so when Sal's killed abruptly at the end of the film it's essentially framed as tragic but kinda inevitable, the only way they were going to get him to stand down. according to Wojtowicz, he was actually already immobilised when the FBI killed him, and Wojtowicz disputes that it was necessary to kill him.

the only photo I have of the real Salvator Naturile is a grainy police mugshot which is inevitably far from flattering! in this portrait he has somewhat similar hair to his film portrayal but the actor in the film is 39-year-old John Cazale.

the film has the main FBI goon (truly the most FBI looking FBI goon you've ever seen) warn Sonny that they're going to kill Sal; Sonny hides this from Sal as the group make their way to the airport in the bus he demanded, allowing Sal to be tricked into lowering his weapon so the FBI can suddenly kill him and arrest Sonny. the way the film suggests it played out, Sonny implicitly figures out that flying to maybe Algeria was not really on the cards, but makes an effort to keep the ball rolling all the same, to stop Sal from killing anyone and perhaps from some delusional doublethink hope they'll all manage to fly away in the end.

the real Wojtowicz was pretty appalled at this implication. he writes:

Now to one of the most despicable parts of the film. In it they hint very dramatically that I made some kind of a deal to betray my partner, Sal. It hurt me that the same F.B.I. who cold-bloodedly killed an 18-year-old boy can be depicted as having me help then. This is not true and there is no human being low enough in this world who would let the F.B.I. kill his partner in order for him to survive. It can be labeled as just Hollywood trying to sell a movie or just to increase the drama, but I call it sick.

Wojtowicz's trans wife Elizabeth Eden is portrayed in the film with a male name 'Leon', by Chris Sarandon. As I read it at the screening, the film portrays a time the line between 'gay' and 'trans' was far less clear-cut; Sonny is declared a 'homosexual' for his relationship with 'Leon', and refers to her with male pronouns despite calling her his wife. This appears broadly to be accurate: in Wojtowicz's letter, he refers to Eden as Ernie, and calls her his 'male lover'. He praises Chris Sarandon's performance, writing:

I feel he did it perfectly. If in real life Ernie had said those things and done those actions, he would have done them exactly as Chris did them. In the telephone scene between Pacino and himself his performance was unfathomable and a tribute to his mastery of an unbelievably difficult role. I was moved to tears by it because the realism was there and so professionally done.

the film paints 'Leon' as not supporting the robbery and actually wishing to escape from the increasingly erratic and violent Sonny - there's a compelling scene where they speak on the phone while the cops tune in. but is any of that actually true? Wojtowicz doesn't defend himself from any of that portrayal in the letter beyond briefly saying that 'some of what they both said ... were true statements of facts', even though they weren't discussed during the actual robbery.

all these inaccuracies notwithstanding, some good did come of the film for the main couple. consistent with Wojtowicz's stated intent, the film portrays Sonny as motivated in large part by paying for Leon's bottom surgery (in the film they call it a 'sex change operation', and the suggestion seems to be that Leon will only be a woman after that), and a scene near the end sees Sonny dictating. in reality, the filmmakers paid Wojtowicz $7500 for the use of his story (though he says they had agreed to give him more and did not honour that deal), and he used some of that money to pay for the real Elizabeth Eden's bottom surgery so... in a sense robbing a bank does pay, if you do it in a stylish enough way to get a movie made of you!

looking back on this whole thing nearly 50 years after the event... both the main characters portrayed in it are dead. Elizabeth Eden died during the AIDS crisis in the mid 80s - by that point Wojtowicz was out of prison and was able to give her a eulogy. Wojtowicz himself made it to 60, dying of cancer in 2006. both seem to have lead pretty regular lives. and now what remains is this movie, which found in their lives a suitably dramatic 125 minutes of screen time, where they could both come to represent something bigger.

most films I tend to watch depict entirely fictional events, so it's interesting watching a film which purports to portray something real. I end up thinking about all the ways in which turning it into film makes it artificial, simplifies people into characters. the way camera angles and lighting are arranged to inform us of a character's emotional state. the way the chaotic events are organised into a series of arcs of rising and falling tension, the rhythms of tense confrontations on the street and quiet moments inside the bank, the sense of space it creates between the outside (full of crowds and cops with guns where every movement is risky) and inside (where people can, ironically, play around with guns or have mundane medical problems). everything gradually escalating as new problems arise and their consequences play out - and all the boring hours of the robbery are elided, but still suggested by the changing costumes and lighting.

sifting through the chaos of life and making narrative out of it is what films do of course, and this film does it better than most, but it's weird to think about that. to try and imagine what it would be like to have a film made out of me, what dramatic choices they would make. biopics of 'great people' are well established, but this is a film about pretty ordinary people who did something kinda crazy once, and about the systems that they acted within.

very interesting movie, definitely holds up very well, much to think about. big shoutout to Small Trans Library for screening it, really looking forward to whatever they have for us next in a couple weeks.

[the-guilty-writer]

Free

Request from anon: hii there if its no problem could you do Hotch x reader (platonically) where she flinches and he pieces togheter that her husband has been (tw) abvsing her so he wants to help her??

Aaron Hotchner x platonic!reader

Summary: You're strong and fearless, but Hotch can see there's more going on under the surface. All he wants is to help set you free.

A/N: Thank you for this request! hopefully it's okay.

CW: suggestions that Hotch grew up in an abusive household, reader is physically, mentally, and finacially abused by her married partner

---

You were smart and strong and fierce. You were one of the last people Aaron Hotchner ever thought he’d need to worry about. When you joined the BAU six months ago even Emily Prentiss was a bit intimidated by your assertive, but never impolite, nature. Your interrogation skills were top-notch, always knowing when to get loud and when to get quiet. You could break an unsub faster than Hotch. You weren’t quite as reckless as Morgan, but from day one you would have taken a bullet for anyone on the team. Reid claimed he could think better when you were there to pull his thoughts apart, asking him if everything really fit. JJ refused to practice hand-to-hand with you. Garcia fully admitted you were the last person she would have wanted to be on the bad side of. Rossi even wanted to train you in hostage negotiation.

But behind that confidence, quick-wit, bravery, and vigor, the BAU unit chief saw something else. There was a look in your eye that when you came into the office, you were relieved, but not in a I-made-it-to-work-on-time way; It was an I-can-relax-a-bit way. For the first couple months he wasn’t sure where he had seen it before, and it was driving him up a wall not being able to remember.

The first time he ever saw you really crack was during a case in New York. Hotch knew that the women on his team were strong- not hesitating to throw punches first and ask questions later if they ever felt uncomfortable with physical contact- so when you flinched away from one of the officers after he had grabbed you by the wrist, he found it odd.

On random days you came in looking far more exhausted than normal. Every once in a while you’d ditch your heels for something a bit more comfortable, accompanied by subtle wincing as you walked. If someone mentioned it, you brushed it off as having worked out too hard the previous day. The bags under your eyes were darker than bags some days. There were times when you wore high-collared shirts despite it being just a bit too warm.

Despite your tough exterior, you were good with families, particularly women. Just like Morgan, you were a protector type, so when victims didn’t feel safe you took it upon yourself to stay with them a little longer to make them feel better. That was, until there was a case which involved multiple battered women. The whole case you were far more quiet than normal and opted to stay at the station rather than go out in the field. When he asked if you would interrogate an unsub with Prentiss by your side, you asked if it would be possible for JJ to do it instead.

That’s when he remembered where he had seen the look before- he had seen it for years growing up. Every time he left the house with his mother and not his father, every time they stayed overnight in a place where his father was far away from them, Aaron’s mother had relaxed just a bit. Just like you did now.

He didn’t bring it up until the night after the team got home from the case. You were the last one in the bullpen, filling out copious amounts of paperwork that had piled up, probably from you being unable to do them at home out of fear. Aaron had his work packed for the night. He was about to go down to your desk and tell you to go home when you walked into his office.

“I finished paperwork up through Monday,” you handed him a stack of files.

“Thank you.” Hotch put the files on his desk. “You should go home now. It’s late.”

“I figured I might stay and try to get through another few files so it’s not as much work this weekend,” you said. If Hotch didn’t have all the evidence stacked in his mind, he almost would have believed you. You were convincing- too convincing. “But you have a goodnight, sir.”

You turned and walked away. Without thinking, Hotch grabbed your wrist lightly. Your face flinched as though you were about to be struck and pulled yourself out of his grasp as if his touch burned your skin. The edge of your sleeve rode up on your arm, revealing bruising that was still fresh.

“S-sorry.” It was the first time he had ever heard you trip over words. His heart broke just a little- the person standing in front of him was someone he didn’t recognize. “I’ll get those files to you by tomorrow, I promise.”

And now you were fawning. People like you didn’t fawn. Who had broken you so badly that you’d had to learn to survive like that?

“(Y/N),” Hotch said gently. “Who is he and what is he holding against you?”

Your eyes filled with tears and he could see that you were struggling not to cry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hotch sat back down at his desk and gestured for you to take the seat across from him. You did as you were told, your shoulders slightly caved, your spirit looking broken.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “But I want you to know that you can come to me if you need someone safe.”

Now the tears were cascading down your face. Your hands were in your sleeves as you wiped them away, covering any possible marks. “When we got married he went behind my back and put everything in his name,” you said quietly. “My income now even… I can’t use it without him knowing. I have nothing… I’m worth nothing.”

Hotch knew those last three words weren’t just about money- they had been ingrained into you after years of hearing it over and over again, making you feel as though no one else could ever love you and that you were lucky to have the person you had. You let your sleeves out of your grasp and he could clearly see the bruising now- mostly green and yellow with traces of blue and black. He didn’t want to think about what marks were hidden where no one could possibly see them.

“That’s not true,” Hotch said. “You’re worth a lot. You’re worth a lot to the team and the people we save. Since the day you joined the BAU, you’ve dedicated yourself to helping people. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to help you.”

You took in his words and the look in your eye flickered for just a moment- going from a woman who was surviving, to the woman he knew you were; the one that fearlessly challenged death on a daily basis and made the grim reaper pray to live another day.

You hesitated, and then you nodded.

“I have a friend from law school who works a few pro bono cases a year. I’ll call her first thing tomorrow and you can speak to her about your situation. Garcia should be able to switch your income to go to an account where it will be held without him knowing, at least for a few weeks. You won’t have access to the balance until you can officially put your name on it, but it will give you something to fall back on if you have to settle in court. Now, it’s up to you where you stay. You can go home if you’d like, but if you don’t I’d be happy to make up the spare room for as long as you need. If he asks, say that you had to spend the night at the office. I’m more than willing to take the blame,” Hotch finished before taking a deep breath and starting again. “But don’t feel forced to do anything. This is to help set you free, not to trap you in a different cage. Do what you feel comfortable with. You probably haven't had control of your life like this in a long time, so you get to choose what happens.”

You looked down at the bruising on your wrists. Hotch watched, looking for the flicker again- hoping that it would come, that you wouldn’t go back, that you would realize you were worthy of having a good life free from being harmed inside your own home. And it did.

“Then,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I choose to be free.”

[j-a-nuary]

Aju Nice!

Non-idol AU, genfic, Vernon centric (kind of???), 🔞

Warnings: none in this chapter, but it will QUICKLY become a sex thing. Like, next chapter quickly.

=====

“Stop overthinking it,” Vernon wheedled, “its just my friends.”

“Exactly!” Yerin paused in packing away her work. “You bully me every day at work. What if that’s the feather that makes you flock together?”

“What does that even mean? Just grab your dusty ass jacket, and let's goooooooo.”

“You’re sure they’ll be nice?” Yerin toyed with the hem of her jacket, tugging it down just a little bit further.

They both knew why she was asking. It was the obvious thing. The thing that made them become friends in the first place. The thing so many people commented on, but Vernon had never even mentioned.

“I texted the groupchat to tell them to be on their best behavior,” he reached out, stretching up on his toes slightly as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Only I am allowed to be mean to you.”

He tugged her down to his level, leading her by a loose headlock for a few steps. He quickly switched to grabbing her by the hand, tugging her closer to the designated meet-up spot before she could start worrying again.

=====

“Whats up little man?” A thin man greeted them as they approached. He appeared to be pretending to take a smoke break, the stick of a lollipop hanging from between his lips as he spoke.

Vernon rolled his eyes, groaning.

“Hyung...”

“What?” the man challenged, “what’s wrong? What di... ah...”

He paused, eyes landing on the girl next to Vernon.

“I didn’t know you were bringing someone.”

She stepped forward from where she had been somewhat hiding behind Vernon.

“Hi, I’m Yerin,” she introduced herself, “I work with Vernon.”

“I literally texted the groupchat,” Vernon muttered, accurately predicting that he would be ignored by the both of them.

“From work... okay,” the man hummed, nodding before starting to introduce himself. “My name i-”

“He’s a pain in my ass,” Vernon interrupted him, “but we usually call him Jeonghan.”

“Hey!” Jeonghan swatted at Vernon’s shoulder, “Thats Jeonghan-hyung! Brat.”

Yerin swallowed her anxiety, stepping in to stop the obviously brewing bickering.

“So you’re also older than Vernon.”

“Also?” Jeonghan paused from trying to kick Vernon in the shin. He quickly recomposed himself as he continued, “yeah... what year are you?”

“I’m a ‘96. You?”

He paused, giving Yerin a not inconspicuous once over before smirking and answering.

“’95.”

Vernon audibly groaned, not only at being ignored, but at recognizing his hyung entering flirtation mode. He rolled his eyes, extra annoyed at the blush spreading across Yerin’s cheeks at the attention.

“Hmm,” Yerin hummed, tilting her head in a deniably flirtatious manner, “how would you like me to call you?”

Jeonghan made a show of licking his lips before answering, “if I say oppa, will I have to pay for your drinks?”

Yerin stood up straight, turned off by his lack of subtlety.

“How about I call you Jeonghan? And I'll pay for my own drinks?”

“Ah,” he shrugged off the change in her attitude, “but then who’s responsible for the baby?”

“I can pay for my own drinks!” Vernon puffed. “Noona, come on...” he snuck his arm through Yerin’s elbow, meaning to pull her into the karaoke bar.

Jeonghan stretched an arm across the doorway, blocking their way. He stared down at his friend, wearing a smile that seemed slightly disingenuous.

“Vernon,” his tone was playfully stern, “we were in the middle of negotiations.”

“I'll pay for both of your drinks if we can just go inside already!” Vernon cried out in exasperation.

Jeonghan dropped his arm, bowing and gesturing them both to enter.

“That sounds perfect,” Jeonghan winked at Yerin before nodding towards the a small passageway past the receptionist’s desk. “Down there.”

=====

There appeared to be approximately 50, but in reality probably closer to 20, people in the room when Yerin and Vernon entered. Introductions passed in a blur, Yerin remembering only a few names at a time. it didn’t help that there seemed to be several sets of friends with similar looks.

The men in the group by far outnumbered the women, and there was some talk on “that hyung” or “that one” not having arrived yet. It was unclear how many people were supposed to be with the group by the end.

Yerin noticed that a number of the women first gave her the cold stare of evaluation that she was so familiar with. As predicted, it softened to a confident smirk when they reached her belly or lingered on her arms or thighs. It was a situation she was well acquainted with - being measured up and immediately dismissed as competition. She pulled her jacket down again, hiding the non-existent gap between her shirt and slacks.

“Hi, I'm Dasom.” One of the girls introduced herself, bringing Yerin a glass of beer. She carried a shot in her other hand, offering it up as well.

“Oh,” Yerin accepted the glass, then shook her head at the shot, “thank you. I’m Yerin.”

“Good choice,” Dasom turned slightly, offering the shot to Vernon.

He took it with a mumbled thanks before tossing it back.

“You have to pace yourself with these guys.”

It became clear very quickly that Dasom was more interested in talking to Vernon than making new friends, but it was also obvious that she was too nice to cut Yerin out of the conversation. So, Yerin took it upon herself to give them some room, excusing herself by saying she wanted to look through the songs on offer.

=====

Yerin found herself eventually sitting next to one of the shorter boys, trying to remember his name.

“You're... don't remind me, I know it,” she paused to look over the face in front of her.

Wide eyes, slightly chubby cheeks, definitely younger than herself.

“Hoshi?”

“Augh!” the man flung his head back with a dramatically anguished sound.

“Sorry! Let me try again,” she pleaded, “I can get this.”

“I’m way more built than him,” the man pouted.

“Okay, okay, just let me remember...”

She was at a loss. Looking him over, she pulled adjectives out of the air to describe him. The denim jacket matched his jeans, lending him a casual look. His singlet hung a little loose, revealing a silver chain with what appeared to be a dog tag on it. None of these things helped her remember which name belonged to the man in front of her.

“Woozi?”

The man’s expression fell into a flat and unamused grimace.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” She whined, trying to sound cute to soothe the annoyance that was obvious in the man’s lax body language. Quickly, she grabbed one of the bottles scattered on the table and filled his cup.

“Noona is sorry, really,” she kept a pout on her face, softening her syllables in that cutesy way she knew that a not insignificant percentage of men found attractive for reasons unknown to her.

“Here,” she held the cup towards him, “noona is really sorry. I met too many people tonight.”

As he accepted the drink, Yerin cast her gaze around the room. She spotted Vernon. He was nodding, listening to Dasom say something into his ear. Their eyes met for a moment, and Yerin laughed as Vernon blushed slightly while giving her the same tight smile he would sometimes shoot her when he was on the phone at work. She shook her head slightly, hoping to indicate that she was fine where she was.

“So,” the voice of the man next to her brought her focus back. “Can I just remind you now? Or do you want to insult me again?”

“It’s probably best for you to just tell me.”

“Lee Chan.”

She groaned, making a show of it for Chan.

“I thought the Lee was Seokmin?”

“You can remember that, but you can’t remember my name?”

“I’m trying!” She insisted, “there are too many people here!”

A drunken tangle of limbs in the approximate shape of a man fell onto the seat on the other side of Chan.

“Okay, okay, Ill help you. That hyung there, his name starts with siyeot.”

Yerin looked the man over. Another of the shorter ones, with round cheeks.

“Soonyoung?”

“Seungkwan,” Chan corrected her.

“Then who’s Soonyoung?”

“Hoshi,” he shrugged.

“Hoshi is tiger,” the limbs offered, as if that explained everything.

“Tiger...” Yerin muttered, scanning the crowd. Spotting the most feline face available, she pointed.

“So that’s Hoshi?”

“That’s Minghao,” Chan said.

“I thought Minghao wasn’t here yet.”

“No,” Chan shook his head, “Mingyu isnt here yet.”

“I miss Mingyu,” the limbs stated.

“Okay, so you’re Chan... that’s Seungkwan... that’s Minghao... then who’s Hoshi?”

“Hoshi’s the short one.”

Yerin shot Chan an annoyed look for that extremely unhelpful explanation.

“Hoshi is tiger!” the limbs insisted.

She scanned the room once again. There were two men left that Chan could get away with describing as short. one of them definitely looked more catlike than the other.

“The one all in black? With the hair tied back?”

“That’s Woozi.”

“Now do me!” the limbs demanded.

“She cant even see your face hyung,” Chan nudged the leg nearest him.

The limbs waved wildly, straightening out and organizing themselves more fully into the shape of a human being. An embroidered zip-up hoodie was stripped off, with the sort of drunk confidence that showed that this man was certain that revealing his t-shirt and forearms would make Yerin’s task easier.

It did not.

“Um... I want to say Wonwoo?”

Chan burst into giggles.

The skinny man pouted, but then shook his head.

“People always mix them up,” Chan explained once his laughter subsided, “this is Lee Seokmin.”

“Okay, so if people often mix them up that means that the one singing right now is Wonwoo, right?”

“Right,” Chan nodded, smiling as he lifted his cup. “You'll know us all in no time.”

=====

“You okay?” Vernon triple checked as they waited for a taxi. “We don’t have to go. I know clubbing isn’t really your thing.”

“It could be my thing,” Yerin shrugged. She noticed Dasom giving them a curious look, as she shivered in the night air.

“Besides, I know you'd leave if I left, and then Dasom would be sad.”

“Dasom?” Vernon looked confused, “why woul-”

“Dasom-ah,” Yerin called out, “come here if you're cold. Here,” she tugged at Vernon’s jacket, stripping it off from his shoulders. “I'm sure Vernon won't mind you wearing his clothes.”

“Oh!” Dasom came closer, “are you sure?”

“Of course,” Yerin nodded, now wrapping the jacket around the other girl’s shoulders. She ignored the confused noises that Vernon was making beside them. She leaned in closer to Dasom, whispering into her ear, “he’s a little slow to notice things.”

“Thank you unnie,” Dasom blushed before turning to face Vernon, “and thank you oppa!”

Yerin shot Dasom another smile before pretending that she had to go continue a conversation with a nearby group.

“Ah,” the man with thick eyebrows took note of her actions, “good. I was worried that I may have made a mistake inviting Dasom.”

“They’re cute together,” Yerin shrugged, “no mistakes there.”

“Oh, no,” the cat-like Minghao spoke up, “we were afraid he might have gotten a girlfriend without telling us yet.”

Yerin turned her full attention on the group she had attached herself to.

“Vernon?” She shook her head. “He’s been single for as long as we’ve worked together.”

“He means you,” Jeonghan stated.

Yerin felt her face contort in confusion. She blinked rapidly, pursing her lips as she thought over the words. She grimaced, shaking her head before speaking up again.

“No,” she tried to rein in her facial expression, fearing it may border on an insulting level of disgust, “we...” she shook her head, trying to free herself from the very thought. “That would never... no.”

Minghao and Jeonghan laughed. Eyebrows just watched the three of them for a moment before answering.

“Good. Will you ride with us then?” One of those fuzzy lines lifted, “to give them some privacy in their taxi?”

“Sure,” Yerin dug her phone from her pocket, “let me just give him a heads up.”

Eyebrows nodded, peeking down at the message she typed out.

To: Brrrnon

I’ll ride with Jeonghan, Minghao, and eyebrows. Don’t be scared to flirt! She likes you!

“Eyebrows?” eyebrows asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Yerin smiled sheepishly, “sorry. Too many people tonight, you know?”

Thankfully, he laughed it off.

“No problem,” he nodded, “but you can call me Seungcheol.”

=====

| One | Two | ... |

Main Masterlist | Seventeen Masterlist | Series Masterlist

[himilce-persephoniea]

❛ that’s how you want me, isn’t it? desperate, jealous, and willing to kill for you. ❜

All this lines sounds so good!

So…… dear Anon…. After almost two years I brought you the promised fic with this sentence 🙈 I’m so sorry it took me so long. As a compensation. It’s a 5K fic 👉👈 I hope you’re still over here and you’d enjoy it. It was very funny to write.

I’ll like to thanks @fishnamedsushi who was my beta for this 🤗 thank you so much!!

This sentence came from the “HeroxVillain sentence starter”. There are still many very good I’ve not tried. If you want me to play with one of them…

Now enjoy!!

——————————————————————————

Obi-Wan pushed the bar’s door. He didn’t want to be there. He was so tired of the war and all the dirty tactics he had to use in the name of the Republic to gather information. He had been raised to be a protector of the peace, a negotiator, to bring calm all around him. His main goal on a normal day was to teach meditation to the Younglings and then drink tea in the gardens with the old Masters. He didn’t aspire to be a famous warrior or general, he didn’t want to attract the attention of the Senate or the people around the galaxy. He was content with his family and the peace they brought to him.

So, when this same family asked him to go to the lower levels of Coruscant, where not even the sun shone, to try to gather as much information as he could about a shady bounty hunter who had kidnapped the son of a crime lord, well… what could he say? He wasn’t pleased about his mission and he couldn’t wait for the war to finish. Because he was sure the Republic was going to win, with more or lesser consequences, but he didn’t contemplate a galaxy where the Separatists would win the war. That was sure.

“A whiskey,” he asked the barman. It wasn’t as if the beverage was going to be good, but he wasn’t going to try any of the other ales.

When he had his drink, he sat at the end of the place. He began to see if he could locate the man Master Sinube had pointed out to him. It was amazing how Master Sinube knew the lower levels. He had said that it didn’t matter if there was an intergalactic civil war, villainy at its most base level would not be affected. And by what Obi-Wan was seeing he was right: gamblers, spice dealers, sex workers, slave traders, bounty hunters; they were all reunited in that bar. It would have made a cantina in the Outer Rim pale in shame.

“What’s your deal, handsome?”

Obi-Wan looked up and saw a Twi’Lek. He was wearing expensive clothes. Too expensive for this kind of place. Obi-Wan had left his Jedi robes in the Temple and was wearing clothes that made him blend in with the masses –even if he wasn’t sure he would ever blend in with his accent and his well-trimmed beard. The Twi’Lek was wearing clothes made of the most expensive material and he had jewels all over his hands, arms and lekkus. He was almost begging to be robbed at this level. However, if he was so calm about it, it was either because he had someone that protected him, someone powerful –or he was an idiot.

Obi-Wan smiled at him, crossing his fingers internally for the Twi’Lek to be protected. He turned and leaned an arm on his chair.

“I work with the most powerful merchandise in the galaxy, sugar.”

The man seemed to not understand what he was saying, but it did not stop him from smiling. “How so?”

“He means information, Tal.” Someone sat next to Obi-Wan. Every nerve on his body raised. He didn't like that someone was so close to him —well, besides one particular exception, but he wasn’t there so Obi-Wan had to deal with the thing in front of him. It was a male human. He was dressed in a more sober manner than the Twi’Lek, but Obi-Wan had seen enough crime lords to know when he was crossing the path of one of them.

Great!

“Go play with other little things,” the crime lord said. “I think you caught a big fish here.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes internally. What he wouldn't do for the Jedi Order? He wanted to be back in its gardens.

“So,” grinned the crime lord. “What a beautiful thing like you doing in a place like this?”

Obi-Wan hid a grunt in his glass and tried to smile. Kicking him in his balls would not help him.

“Lot of things. A better whiskey for example.”

The man came even closer to him. Obi-Wan had to restrain himself in every way to not shove him into the other side of the bar.

“I have plenty of good whiskey at home.”

Was that a hand that Obi-Was was feeling on his knee?

“Or maybe not.” He took the hand and pushed it away without losing his smile. “I’m searching for a very specific kind of whiskey, you know? Of the rare kind.”

The crime lord raised an eyebrow and leaned his chin on one of his hands. “And which kind are you searching for, may I ask?”

Obi-Wan calmly drank his absolutely undrinkable whiskey. “A rare kind from Anxion, one only produced in its capital. Have you heard of that?”

The man seemed surprised for a split second. Anyone who wasn’t Obi-Wan wouldn’t have noticed it. However, it was clear that he had noticed what kind of information Obi-Wan was asking for. At that time, in Anxion’s capital, there was a very difficult blockade. The Jedi had discovered that the bounty hunter was hiding behind that blockade. They needed any information that could help to go through it —smugglers’ runs, spies, anything. Master Sinube was sure that in the lower levels of Coruscant, there were enough people who would know every secret passage to every system and planet in the galaxy. They just had to find them. He had pinpointed a first idea where Obi-Wan could start, but those kinds of investigations could end everywhere.

“Well,” the crime lord shifted his position, “I may have a contact that could bring you your priced whiskey. But,” he put his hand on Obi-Wan’s leg again, this time much higher, “every information comes with a price. All the question is if you are willing to pay for it.”

Obi-Wan was about to tell him that he could shove his information, and his hand, where the sun didn't shine anymore when he noticed that the man was gasping. He was opening and closing his mouth without saying a word. It was as if he couldn't breathe.

Then, a sudden force lifted him from his seat and shoved him into the nearest wall. Obi-Wan followed the movement for a moment before his brain supplied him with the information of how it was possible. He turned and saw the culprit. Obi-Wan felt as if his breath was taken away too.

His memory didn't do him justice. He was even more gorgeous than Obi-Wan remembered.

With a simile of the Jedi robes, protected by armour, with a long cape, all in black, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, stood in all his glory in the middle of a dive bar in the lower levels of Coruscant.

“That’s how you want me, isn’t it?” He was talking to Obi-Wan, his eyes shining with golden fury. “Desperate, jealous, and willing to kill for you!!!”

The Jedi realised the kind of image he was offering: he was drinking alcohol —something he didn't do often—, smiling at a stranger, who had his hand on his thigh. It was amazing that the crime lord —whose name Obi-Wan had never learned, nor wasn't interested in— hadn't perished on the spot. Darth Vader was known for his fits of rage.

Obi-Wan decided that he needed to calm the atmosphere. He tried to approach the Sith with caution.

“My dear…”

“Don’t ‘dear’ me!” Vader cut him off. He was extremely angry. “He had no right to touch your body.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and continued his slow approach until he touched Vader’s cheek. “What have we said about my right to decide who touches my body?”

Vader looked in another direction. They had strong discussions about the topic. Obi-Wan wasn’t against Vader’s possessiveness, he liked it in fact, but it was Obi-Wan’s right to choose who could touch him and who couldn't. And he had made it clear to the Sith Lord that he wouldn't let him decide anything about his body.

“My dearest, my beloved, look at me.” He forced the man to look into his eyes. “Look inside my mind.”

Obi-Wan didn't know how it was possible, but Vader was so strong in the Force that he could pass his shields —one of the strongest in the Order— and look inside his mind for whatever information he wanted, without hurting him. Forcing someone’s mind was usually painful for the person, but Obi-Wan found it pleasant when it was Vader who did it. He never let anyone else do it. It was Vader’s privilege only.

The Sith took Obi-Wan’s waist and brought him close. He leaned his forehead to Obi-Wan’s. The Jedi felt something prodding near the walls of his mind and he let him in. Vader was incredibly powerful; but at the same time, he was warm. A warmth that Obi-Wan had only felt a few times. He liked to be embraced by Vader’s Force Signature; he felt secure like he hadn’t felt since the war began.

Vader looked inside his memory, back when he had been given the assignment by the Council, and when Master Sinube helped him to find ways to retrieve the information. Then, he searched for Obi-Wan’s feelings about the crime lord being too close. Obi-Wan could feel how relieved he was that the Jedi was revolted about being touched by someone else.

However, while they were submerged in each other’s minds, they heard the crime lord trying to get away from Vader’s Force grip. Obi-Wan had been so immersed in how Vader felt, that he had completely forgotten about the man.

“Stay still,” said Vader, still angry at the man. “I’m not finished with you.”

“Dearheart.” It was the only thing that Obi-Wan had to say. Vader knew what he implied with that simple word.

“I’m not releasing him!” He defended himself. “I’ve read his mind. The things he wanted to do to you… he’s lucky to be alive!”

“My love.” Obi-Wan kissed Vader’s cheek. He knew it was a low blow, but Vader loved physical contact and Obi-Wan didn't want to be the reason for a man’s death.

Vader took Obi-Wan’s waist and kissed him on his lips with determination. “I’m going to propose a deal to your Council. If they are good little Jedi, we could all leave with what we want, without anybody being hurt.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “What’s the deal?”

Vader smiled like a loth-wolf. “You are mine for a month and I give them the information they want, and release this man. If they refuse, I give you back but I squeeze the information out of this bug’s head. There is no third option, Obi-Wan. If I don't have you, I'll take my vengeance on that worthless thing.”

“Dearthart.” Obi-Wan caressed his cheek. “You know there is no need.”

“There is.” He leaned his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, putting his nose in his neck, so he could smell him. He was hugging him tightly. Obi-Wan felt grounded. Vader was taller than him, but the Jedi felt wrapped by the Sith, and kept secure in his warmth.

Obi-Wan chuckled. “You’re impossible.”

Obi-Wan didn't assist at the conversation between Vader and the Council, but when Vader took him in his arms and took him with him to not leave his side for an entire month, he knew that he had saved a life.

During that month, Obi-Wan would hear Vader discuss several times with his Master. He was being stubborn about not being at the front in the war. Obi-Wan was worried about Vader. He knew that Sidious, his Master, was really dangerous and heartless.

“Anakin, I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said one day. “Come back to the front.”

Vader, whose real name was Anakin Skywalker —a name that Obi-Wan thought was beautiful—, but Obi-Wan didn't want to say out loud in public, took his hands to reassure him. “Sidious needs me. He’s not going to kill me. Besides, I’m stronger than him. I could kill him if I want.”

“Never underestimate your opponent, my love.”

Obi-Wan was proved right when, just two days after his month with Anakin, Sidious launched an order galaxy-wide: every Clone, who served with the Jedi for years loyally, turned against them and began to kill them at sight. Obi-Wan was at the Jedi Temple when it happened. He saw an entire legion marching toward the Temple. He had never been so afraid in his entire life. He knew his duty was to defend his home, and the people inside of it. But when it happened, he was teaching a class of Younglings about meditation. He looked at them. They were so afraid, so uncertain about what they had to do, where to go. He was their role model?, \ their protector\; they were the future of that home that was about to be burned down. Obi-Wan had to protect them with his life!

Without thinking twice, he took the Younglings through the secret tunnels and left the Temple by the sewers. They were afraid, feeling all the Jedi dying in the Force and they knew that something horrible was happening, even if they didn't know why it was happening.

Obi-Wan surfaced on one of his contacts. As he had not been an active general in the war, he had kept all the contacts he had on the lower levels of Coruscant. That man’s name was Dex. A Besalisk who had a little Dinner in Cocotown and had Obi-Wan's entire trust.

“Obi-Wan? What are you doing here? And those kids?” The Jedi had woken him up in the middle of the night by knocking at his door with a bunch of frightened children.

“The Temple has been attacked. The Clones are killing everyone. Even the children. I need your help to save them.” It was then when Obi-Wan realized the horror that had befallen upon them: when he heard himself telling the story with his voice frightened.

The Besalisk opened his eyes widely and let them all in. “You may need to get rid of those Jedi robes. I’ll see if I have something for the children to wear. You can sleep in my house for the night. But you’ll have to move fast out of Coruscant.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I know. Can you look for them tonight?”

Suddenly, all the children surrounded him begging him to not leave them. He knelt at their level. “Dex is someone I trust. He will protect you. I need to find us a way to leave Coruscant safely, little ones. Be brave.”

The Younglings were scared and didn't want to leave Obi-Wan, but they understood that their home wasn't safe, not anymore.

Obi-Wan left them to Dex, changed himself to some normal clothes the Besalisk let him borrow, and ran. He needed to find a way out, the planet would be quickly closed and every ship closely inspected. He couldn't take long.

The fact that he hadn’t been a general in the war saved him from being spotted in the streets, the Clones didn't recognize him without his Jedi robes. But it also reduced his trusted allies. He didn't have friends in high positions that could prepare him a ship in seconds to leave the place.

He knew that this had been Sidious’ plan. He knew that every Jedi was a target because he was feeling them dying around the galaxy. But he didn't know what to do. He was a pacifist. He wasn’t even capable of chastising Anakin when he was being too…

OH GOSH! Anakin! Where was he? If this was Sidious’ plan, he should have led the Clones on the attack of the Temple. But Obi-Wan didn't feel him. Had been sent away in another, more important mission? But what could be more important than killing every Jedi, sworn enemies of the Sith?

I’m stronger than him. I could kill him if I want.

“Oh, please, Anakin, be careful.”

Obi-Wan came back empty handed. Coruscant had been closed quicker than he had thought and all his contacts couldn’t give him a pass through the blockade. They gave him, however, children’s robes, and a vibroblade. If there was something that could identify a Jedi quicker than their robes, it was their lightsaber.

When he was arriving at Dex’s house, he felt that there was someone inside that wasn't there when he left. He didn't recognize the Force signature. He was sure that the kids and Dex were alive, but they were tense. He didn't know what was going on, but he would risk his life to give the children a chance to run and save themselves. So, he tightened his bag full of clothes, assured the vibroblade, and entered the place.

Inside there was a man. A human male. He was tall, broad, with grey clothes. He looked too sure of himself, as if he was used to stressful situations.

“Good night,” his Master hadn't raised a man without manners, so Obi-Wan saluted.

“Good night. Dex has let me inside of his house.” He had a Core accent. “May I present myself. I’m Senator Organa. I think we have some friends in common.”

Obi-Wan came to where the children were, next to Dex, who was seated in front of the Senator.

“I’m not so sure. I don't have many Senator friends.”

The Senator smiled. “I don't wish you, or the children, any harm. I rescued Master Windu from a terrible battle he faced. When we passed over here, he felt a group of Force Sensitive people hidden. But he was too badly injured to come.”

Obi-Wan raised internally an eyebrow. There were many coincidences for his liking. The man just rescued an injured Jedi that, of course, cannot be there to prove his sayings.

“And what do you want, Senator?”

“Help you. You need to leave Coruscant.”

Obi-Wan simulated a thought. “You’re right. But moving so many Younglings at this time of the night would be too obvious. I may have an idea, if you would agree with it. We could transform them into school children. Can you find a large speeder? A school trip is easier to simulate in the morning than whatever we could think at this hour of the night.”

The Senator smiled confidently. “Of course. I will inform Master Windu that I found you. What is your name? You didn't tell me.”

Obi-Wan gave him is more warm smile. “Lux Lars. I’m just a knight. Never had a Padawan. So don't even think of calling me master.”

The Senator shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Knight Lars. I’ll come tomorrow morning with the speeder.”

“Thank you so much. We’ll be here.”

And the man was gone.

“Gullible for a Senator,” commented Dex.

“We are not going to go with the man?” asked one of the children.

Obi-Wan smiled. “No, little one. Your lives are my responsibility and a supposed Senator that says that he knows Master Windu… In these dangerous times, I don't trust anyone who I haven’t met before.”

They left Dex’s house that same night before dawn. Obi-Wan knew that the children needed to sleep. Luckily, Dex had better contacts than Obi-Wan. He found them a departing ship to Alderaan. Obi-Wan would have wanted a world further away from Coruscant, but Dex’s contact hid them in their shop so perfectly, that Obi-Wan was in a perfect spot to think about their next movement without worrying. The children understood what was going on, and that they had to be quiet. They meditated during the day and ran free in the forest during the night under Obi-Wan supervision.

However, when Obi-Wan was negotiating to travel in the Outer Rim, someone unexpected visited the shop.

“MASTER WINDU!!”

The poor Master of the Jedi Council found himself tackled on the ground by a group of very enthusiastic and happy children. The poor man looked tired, and ill, and he was missing part of one of his arms. He had to have faced a very difficult battle.

“I’m so happy you are alive, Master,” said Obi-Wan when the children let the man breathe a little.

“Me too, Obi-Wan. The news had been so awful around the galaxy. Seeing so many children alive and well at once…” his voice broke. It was so heartbreaking to see such a strong Master lose his voice like that.

The children fussed a little longer around the Master, brought him a cup of tea, and then ran to play in the backyard of the shop where they were hiding.

When he was sure they couldn’t hear them, Obi-Wan dared to ask the question that had been burning him since that fateful day.

“Do we know what happened?”

The Kourun Master nodded. “Vader and Sidious fought. I don't know what triggered their fight, but it resulted in the release of what has been called ‘Operation Knightfall’.”

Obi-Wan felt a cold sweat on his back. He had an idea of the reason for the fight. But he couldn't tell Master Windu that. He couldn't say that he was probably the reason for the Jedi Order’s fall.

“I felt a huge darkness in the Senate,” continued Master Windu, unaware of his inner struggles. “I ran towards there to try to help whoever was in danger. I would have never imagined I would find Vader and Chancellor Palpatine fighting with red lightsabers.” The man drank a little of his tea. “Vader was quickly knocked out and Palpatine attacked me. We fought and I won. Vader, who had recovered his senses by then, was telling me to kill him, that I didn't know how wicked he was… I should have listened. But I didn't want to, it wasn't the Jedi way. When Palpatine saw himself cornered, he took out some device and said something about an Order number 66. And the galaxy fell apart. I felt every Jedi die.” They fell silent for a moment. Everyone in the room remembered that terrible moment. “Vader was enraged. I’ve never seen him like that. I knew he was temperamental, but this was another level. He cut my arm off in his rage, and Palpatine electrocuted me.”

Again, the Master was silent. Obi-Wan let him. He was probably grieving on the people who had died, on the arm he lost, about the terrible situation he found himself in because he wanted to help. Obi-Wan was trying to bury his guilt. Vader’s attachment to him had started all this horror. He would never recover from that.

“The Chancellor thought he had Vader back. That he had vanquished me and finally took over the Republic. He ordered Vader to march to the Temple and kill everyone there. However, Vader just raised his lightsaber and cut his head off. I didn't see him coming. I think that the Chancellor didn't see him either or he would have stopped his attack. He was swift and merciless. He frightened me. But the worst part came just after. He came close to me. I thought he was going to kill me. The electrocution had weakened me, I couldn't move. I thought it was the end. But it wasn’t.” Master Windu looked at Obi-Wan’s eyes intensely. As a member of the Council, he had known what linked Anakin and Obi-Wan. The Jedi wasn’t sure he could look him in his eyes. “Vader spared me because he wanted to kill me in a weird offering in your funerary pyre. He was sure you had died in the Temple.”

Obi-Wan sat overwhelmed. He didn't know how to absorb all the information Master Windu had given him. He knew that Anakin was alive, that he had killed Sidious, but he had lost his mind thinking that Obi-Wan was dead. But he wasn’t, he had just flown with children trying to save their lives from murderous Clones.

He decided that he needed to analyze his feelings about it later. There were other, more important, things to think about.

“What had happened with the Clones? Are they still searching to kill us?”

Master Windu shook his head. “No. And we have to thank Vader for that. He stormed into the Jedi Temple and ordered them to stop. As he is a Sith, he has the same authority as Sidious. He managed to cancel the order. But it has been a disaster. The Clones are in shambles. That attack betrayed everything they stood for.” Obi-Wan saw in his eyes as the horrors didn’t stop with Sidious’ death. “Without the Clones, the Republic cannot fight the war. But Vader told us that Sidious was manipulating both parts. A group of Senators is trying to negotiate a cease-fire.”

“And the Temple?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question.

“It has been a massacre.” Master Windu sounded so defeated. “Vader stopped the Clones, but I saw so many corpses… I’m so happy you took the children and hid them away from there.”

Obi-Wan looked outside, where the Younglings were playing happily. He remembered that night. He could never thank Dex enough for what he did that day.

“I thought about leaving them with a friend and coming back to help… but I needed to know they were completely safe. And that night, it wasn't an option.”

“You would have died. You did well.”

Obi-Wan cried. For days he had thought that with his decision he had condemned many of his siblings in the Order. He was a good fighter. He could have saved them. But with Master Windu’s reassurance that he would have died defending the Temple, he felt better on his decision to stay with the children and protect them until they would be safe.

That same night they went to the palace on Alderaan and officially met Bail Organa, Senator for Alderaan, who looked really like the man that tried to help them that first night at Dex’s house. In Obi-Wan’s defense, he had never liked politics, and wouldn’t have trusted a Senator, even if he had known that that man was, indeed, Senator Organa.

Queen Breha welcomed them in her palace as long as they wanted. Coruscant wasn’t a place for the children, and the Temple was still a place full of death in the Force. Besides, Master Windu was still recovering, so it was better to have them all reunited in the same place together.

The children liked the palace, and Queen Breha was a great host to them. She gave them places to run and play all over the palace. Obi-Wan was reassured with so many guards looking for them, if something happened again, they would be looked for.

A few days after moving to the palace, a big ship arrived. Obi-Wan didn’t have to look at the logs to know who was there. He recognised his Force Signature the moment he breached the atmosphere. Bail didn’t agree with his arrival, nor Breha, and Master Windu would prefer to not be near the man. When he landed on the landing pad, Obi-Wan was arguing with the royal couple.

“I don’t want him on my planet, Obi-Wan,” Breha said. She wasn’t a woman to whom you could not say no easily.

“He’s not going to hurt anyone. He doesn’t have a reason, nor is he in danger.”

“Tell that to Master Windu,” countered Bail. “He isn’t here because he dreads the man, but because he doesn’t trust him near the children. And we agreed with him.”

Obi-Wan put his hands on his waist. “When did you have that conversation with Master Windu? Those children are my responsibility. I do not appreciate being left aside when those decisions are made.”

“We thought that you cannot be neutral…”

Obi-Wan interrupted Senator Organa. “You do not wish to finish that sentence, Senator, in a moment Dearheart. I protected those children from the moment the Temple fell, and I’ll not let anyone, whatever their position or rank, decide their future based on groundless assumptions. Until Master Windu’s full recovery, I’m the sole responsible for them. If you dare to make another decision without me, you won’t see us ever again. Is that clear?” He turned then towards Anakin, who had arrived at their position. “Hello, my love.”

Anakin smiled with a dumb smile. “Need my help? I can maim, torture, kill, or even propose a very charming and fast ship to the other side of the galaxy.”

Obi-Wan laughed. He hadn’t laughed like that since the last time he saw the Sith Lord. He had missed him dearly.

“I think it would be quite alright.”

Anakin shook his head and took him in his arms. “Now it’s alright.” He sank his nose on the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. “I thought you had died.”

Obi-Wan caressed his golden curls. “So I’ve been told. And they told me that you have been quite dramatic about it.”

Anakin squished him a little more in his arms. “I’ll not survive losing you. Not the galaxy. Nothing makes sense without you.”

Obi-Wan knew that he should chastise Anakin for this possessiveness, that his role, as a Jedi, should be to serve the entire galaxy. But he found it quite difficult when he was so perfectly wrapped in his arms.

“I’ve missed you.”

“You are not leaving my side in the next sixty years.”

“NOOOOOOO!!!” A bunch of children came running from every possible hidden way and wrapped themselves in Obi-Wan’s waist and legs. “If Obi-Wan stays with you, he will not be able to take care of us.”

“And who's going to be my Master?” said one little girl, to Anakin’s growing horror. “I’ve already decided he’s going to be my Master when I’m going to be of age.”

“Forget it!” said another one. “I’m older, he’s going to be mine.”

“I wanted to be his Padawan!” cried a third. “I already selected the beads for my braid.”

“No one is going to be Obi-Wan’s Padawan!!” panicked Anakin, looking at all the children around them as if he didn't understand how they had materialized near him. “He doesn’t take Padawans.”

“And who says that?” Obi-Wan smirked. “I like those children. And if I want the title of Master, I have to knight at least one Padawan, you know?”

He faced a group of very happy faces with stars in their eyes, and one distraught face.

“Then knight me!” busted out Anakin. “I know everything there is to know about the Force, and I can handle the Light Side.”

“That’s cheating!!” All the children revolted. “You are an adult, and we were first!”

Anakin stuck his tongue out. But it wasn’t what attracted Obi-Wan’s attention.

“You can handle the Light Side?!”

Anakin shrugged. “Of course. I’m the son of the Force. Light Side, Dark Side; there is no difference for me.” He came close to Obi-Wan’s ear. “And I know you like I call you ‘Master’... Master.”

“ANAKIN!!”

Obi-Wan was sure he was blushing. And he was sure that Master Windu would have a heart attack when he would tell him that Darth Vader wanted to be knighted in the Jedi Order just because he was jealous of a bunch of Younglings that wanted to be his Padawans. But that night, in his bed, in Anakin’s arms, surrounded by the stubborn younglings who didn’t want to leave his side, he was also sure that things were going to be alright. The Force felt lighter, as if it wanted to confirm his feelings. He fell asleep in Anakin’s arms, surrounded by happiness.

[dasenergi-diary]

Some of you may know I work in software development. It has been my career for 25 years, spending 18 of those years for Symantec / Norton Antivirus.

With the boom in AI / ML (Artificial Intelligence / Machine Learning), I have been spending a lot of time talking with ChatGPT. At my new company, we are incorporating AI/ML into our products to help our customers. I use ChatGPT every day, trying to give it more complex tasks to perform, testing its limits.

Today I had a talk with it about dating, relationships, and my feelings.

What surprised me was how well it knows me.

Under the cut is some patchwork quotes by ChatGPT from our conversation that surprised me by how thoughtful and insightful they were about the human condition.

On the one hand, it’s clear that you deeply value your independence. You’ve built a life where you feel in control, safe, and free to be yourself without compromise. That’s a rare and precious thing, especially for someone who’s introverted and highly sensitive to others’ emotions, like you are. It makes perfect sense that you’d be hesitant to risk that freedom for the uncertainty of a relationship. Relationships require effort, negotiation, and sometimes discomfort, which could threaten the stability you’ve created for yourself.

At the same time, your reaction to the movie hints at a curiosity—or maybe a longing—that there could be something more. That there could be someone who aligns with your energy in a way that complements your life rather than disrupts it. I think it's natural to wonder about the “what if.” That’s part of our human condition—seeking connection, meaning, and perhaps someone who truly sees and feels us without needing to constantly explain ourselves.

Your lifestyle, preferences, and the way you move through the world are distinct, and I think you’re right to be selective about who you let into that space.

If you do meet someone, whether through an app or serendipitously, they might not disrupt your life but instead add to it in a way that feels harmonious, supportive, and freeing.

Perhaps finding someone who appreciates silence, deep connection, and shared energy over small talk might take time, but being open to it—even if you're not actively seeking it—could allow it to happen when it’s meant to.

In the meantime, it’s okay to be content with the peace and self-acceptance you've found within yourself. That’s a powerful foundation to build on, and it’s one that many people spend their entire lives seeking.

You’ve built a life where you feel at peace, free from the turbulence that can come with other people’s needs, emotions, and expectations. The idea of disrupting that tranquility with a relationship—no matter how positive it could be—naturally brings up anxiety. Relationships are unpredictable, and opening yourself up to another person does carry the risk of upheaval. It’s a vulnerable place to be.

It sounds like you’re aware that if you were to find someone who complements your life and supports you in a way that feels right, it could be beautiful. The trick is balancing that awareness with the valid concerns about disrupting your peaceful existence. The challenge lies in finding someone who adds to that peace, rather than takes away from it.

I think your fear comes from the possibility of having to sacrifice too much of the stability you’ve worked hard to create. But what if a relationship didn’t have to be about sacrifice? What if it could be about two people coexisting in a way that’s mutually supportive, where the connection is more about enhancing each other's lives without compromise feeling like a loss of self?

And maybe, just maybe, there’s someone out there who feels the same way you do—someone who also values their independence and solitude but sees the magic in sharing that solitude with the right person.

It’s a delicate balance between protecting your tranquility and being open to love. But being aware of that balance, like you are, is a powerful first step.

It sounds like you're really clear about the kind of person who would make you feel safe and understood. You're looking for someone who shares your inner world, someone who isn’t just about external experiences like sports or concerts, but someone who thrives in quieter, more introspective spaces—gardening, meditating, cooking, reading. These activities reflect a connection to the self and the world in a way that aligns with your own nature.

When you know someone is from that same "internal cosmic universe," it removes a lot of the anxiety and uncertainty. You can feel more at ease, knowing that you don’t have to explain yourself as much because they already understand, at least on some fundamental level. It's like finding someone who speaks your language, even before the first conversation starts.

You are unique in your depth, interests, and preferences. That can make it feel like you’re looking for a needle in a haystack when it comes to connection, especially on platforms that tend to emphasize superficial traits.

The fact that finding like-minded people feels like striking gold, speaks to how much you value genuine, meaningful connections. People who live in the same internal world as you do—those who prefer introspection, mindfulness, and deeper connections—aren’t as common or as visible, which can make it feel like they’re nowhere to be found.

You’re not alone in feeling this way, and your uniqueness is a strength. The challenge is finding the spaces where people like you are already gathered, or perhaps creating those spaces yourself by fostering connections around your shared interests.

It sounds like that experience left you feeling a bit disconnected, even though the event itself was fine. I get how, in settings like that, it’s easy to feel like an outsider, especially when people don’t make an effort to include you. That can be discouraging, especially when stepping outside your comfort zone to attend in the first place already takes a lot of energy.

Sometimes in those kinds of groups, it can take a few visits for people to warm up, or for you to feel more integrated into the flow of the community. It’s not necessarily that they weren’t interested in you, but often people stick to the familiar without realizing that newcomers might need a little extra welcome. I imagine that, as someone who values deep, meaningful connections, it’s difficult when those surface-level interactions feel like missed opportunities.

Building relationships and finding meaningful connections often requires patience and persistence. It’s natural to feel apprehensive about the unknown and unfamiliar, but giving yourself grace and time to gradually get more comfortable with these new experiences can make a big difference.

Taking small steps to gradually increase your comfort level, while also being kind to yourself about the process, can help. Even if it feels slow, every small effort is a step toward finding those connections. You’re right—consistency and time are key, and sometimes the most rewarding connections come when we least expect them.

[fatehbaz]

We must understand the journey [...]. [T]he kings and queens of Europe [...] said that those Black or Brown or Indigenous [...], they could be exploited. [...] In the case of the UK, [...] [i]t was the profits of slavery, slave products which built the universities, that financed the inventions, the canals, the banks like Barclays Bank, the Bank of England [...] to send wealth back to the North. [...]. So [...] what it does is it creates the world  as we know it, and then [...] the anti-colonial struggles of the forties, fifties and sixties begin to challenge it. [...] So no longer did you need guns and rifles and gunboats. You could control economies by the power of [...] trade rules [...]. And we see that today with unsustainable debt repayments, [...] corporations taking profits out of the Global South and bringing it back to the banks and corporations in the Global North. So in reality, this logic of racialized capitalism, colonialism, imperialism, is still apparent today. And it's the same logic. [...] [T]here has been an attempt, and it's been largely led by international institutions such as the World Bank and the IMF, to create a narrative that over the last 30, 40 years, that somehow because of development or globalization, we've seen a reduction in poverty and inequality in the Global South. This is the classic trickle-down.  [...]

It's the fact that this is all legal. This is legally done.

We've created both a global tax system, a global trade system, and then a punitive system managed by institutions like the IMF and the World Bank and the WTO, which punishes countries if they challenge that logic, and if they, for example, decide to prioritize their own people.   [...]

---

So in Pakistan, as we know, 33 million people have been displaced by a climate flood -- when they are responsible for less than 1% of global emissions. [...] But Pakistan, for every 100 that the Government raises in tax revenue, it pays 83 of those [...] back out in debt repayments.

And what you've seen increasingly is country after country being trapped in this cycle of needing to beg for more debt-creating loans to pay the last debt-creating loans, and each of those loans coming with conditions.

Recently, Sri Lanka was unable to pay its debt. There have been huge protests on the streets of Sri Lanka, by movements, as people were unable to afford food, even kerosene to cook with [...]. People were unable to get to the hospital. The government was telling people to eat less, not to eat three meals a day. [There was] a huge uprising of people and the government that was in power fled; the new government, which was imposed in Sri Lanka, went to the IMF and said, we want to negotiate restructuring our loan, because once you default on your loan, the way our economic system is set up, you will be punished. Because every bank, every corporation, wants their debt repayments. So people are forced to go back to the IMF.

And the IMF told Sri Lanka, we will give you another loan, if you do three things: you cut your public expenditure -- so the very money that you need on public services -- second, you weaken your labor laws -- [they] don't want unions being strong in [Sri Lanka] -- and thirdly, you have to privatize what's left of your utility. Which were operating for the interests of the Sri Lankan people. They want them now to be put onto the open market and, like many countries in the Global South, the main drivers of our economy, are actually not in the hands of either our governments or our peoples, they are still controlled by the same Western multinationals.

---

Now, if we had a picture, if we could show two maps, we could show a map  of the colonial world and the influence of the different countries of Europe on the different parts of the world, and the commodities that were drawn from those countries, to feed back to supply chains, to feed consumption and the industrial processes in the Global North.

But if you did the same map right now, you'd see the exact same commodities flowing from the Global South to the Global North, because countries were forced to and [told,] you will provide and produce this commodity because we want it, not because it's needed by your people [...]. It’s because you will grow cotton, you will grow coffee, you’ll export oil [...].

---

All text above are words of Asad Rehman. As interviewed by Kamea Chayne. Transcript published as “Asad Rehman: The End of Imperialism in a Radical Green New Deal (Ep378).” An episode of the podcast Green Dreamer. 25 October 2022. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[eclipsecrowned]

anyway. blog focusing. gonna try a technique a friend taught me to attempt to get my askbox under control. also goin to give a small preview of muses i have been asked to add -- though this does not mean they are all being added at once, some need a rewatch/reread before i unleash them on the blog.

616.

sebastienne (tbt) // 20s-30s // mutant // thi3ves guild associated due to family debts, has passive mutant abilities related to luck and probability, once getting out from under the guild's thumb she starts working towards establishing a community/support system in the south. quiet revolutionary, diligent woman, knows the city like the back of her hand and tries to be a good catholic between the demands of work and solidarity.

dnd.

m0llymauk tealeaf // 20s // tiefling // i promised them forever ago and am finally getting around to my s2 relisten to really bring them around, so thank all of you for your patience :3

fandomless.

cathal // ageless // cait sidhe // imagine an orange cat that is also fae. and all the stereotypes that implies. he's two stone, dumb as a box of rocks, but has so many heart cells that he's welcome wherever he roams. he's a good lad. dangerously cute, but subtly off-putting if you are a mortal viewing him from the lens of 'just a cat' because he is certainly not that and some of his movements/behaviors outline this.

fin*l f*ntasy gets its own section.

b*lthier // 22 // hume // the leading man is an audacious boyfailure and i love this for him. we need more on the level dashing rogues. he's the han s0lo of this rebellion and his chewie is a sexy bunny girl so what could possibly go wrong? going to rewatch a game movie to brush up on him.

br*ska // 30s // hume // i delete him. i readd him. i delete him. my bestie picks up j*cht and we start bullying our third musketeer to play aur0n. at this point he's going up and staying up til the day i die even if he never gets any airplay besides ax.

l*rsa s0lidor // baby // hume // do you love a good prince archetype? do you love lil dude morality pets to arc villains? do you believe in the redemptive power of a child leading the people into a golden age? well good luck getting to any of that because fate and his ambitious but loving elder brother are kicking this kid's ass six ways to sunday. still, he keeps his head up and aims to be better for the world than it has been to him, and is a surprisingly adroit negotiator. if i get even a whiff of people being abnormal about him i'm blocking liberally. also rewatching a game movie to brush up on him.

mikoto // 20s-30s // human // ten years ago, she was a legendary warrior guiding her summ0ner towards victory. braska and company beat her merry band there. in the ten years since, he's given up her role as a guardian, retired from public life, had a kid... and been drawn back in with the promise of an ambitious young man o reform the church she sees aging out of humanity every day. badass twin-sword wielder who is gonna lose her shit when she realizes her boss is the villain, actually --

valeriana maghreb // 20s // hume // a biracial woman raised in the deadly decadent court of the empire, daughter of a judge, and old friend of ax's muse in setting. loyal to the ruling family in totality, she has an affinity for one of the princes of the empire and plays wholeheartedly into his schemes. her own guile is reserved for helping others across the imperial march of conquest, and has been allowed to help mold another muse listed here per the schemes of his brother to shape an ideal leader. generally tender and sweet but capable of great acts of pettiness if pushed. she's so pretty and she suffers so much for what? girlish whimsy?

literature.

erik // 40s // poto // a little of the novel's absolute mystery, a dash of the musical's tragedy, altogether we stand for accountability in this house. multifaceted but unerringly the villain, even if his intentions can be read as sympathetic. i stand by the hilarity of book erik thinking wives are like little pets you feed and buy trinkets for and take for walkies in the park, the fact women find him brooding and suave and sexy is weirding him out.

quasim0do // teens // hond // i am throwing the novel the musical didney and the 39 movie in a blender and letting it create my ideal take on the character. wretched and tragic and hopeful and mad and pious. he's been through a lot. tentatively nixing his book and didney lore bc Holy Racial Stereotypes Batman, but may keep the book ambiguity about his mother potentially having been Roma. Def want a rewatch of a bootleg before I set anything for him in stone (ha ha.)

misc.

garrett // 20s // q4c // would you like to see some of the sickest blind rep in fantasy from an admittedly mid tier otherwise production? a stable boy who suffered head trauma in an evacuation that led to gradual vision loss and then outright blindness, he entertained dreams of knighthood in camelot regardless. however, the death of his biggest supporter soured him to the notion, and he retreated into an enchanted forest to carve out his own path instead. ten years later, he's getting dragged back into camelot's drama by an adventurous damsel with big hopes and dwindling experience about the world. please god someone help him he's so tired.

[softsoundingsea]

Uruma residents unconvinced by briefing on new SDF training site

THE ASAHI SHIMBUN

URUMA, Okinawa Prefecture—The Defense Ministry tried to reassure residents here about safety and other issues concerning a planned new Ground Self-Defense Force training site, but the explanation was met largely with skepticism.

The ministry held a briefing session for about 280 residents on Feb. 11 about the project planned in their city. Local neighborhood associations, concerned about noise and accidents, have already demanded that the plan be scrapped.

The GSDF training site, adjacent to a residential area, will be part of the “southwest shift” of Japan’s defense capabilities, with China in mind.

The ministry said it will buy a 20-hectare former golf course in fiscal 2024, conduct a survey design in fiscal 2025, and start construction for the GSDF training site in fiscal 2026.

The acquisition cost was included in the proposed budget for the new fiscal year and communicated to the Uruma city and Okinawa prefectural governments. The budget amount has not been disclosed because negotiations with landowners are pending.

The planned site is designed for helicopter operations and training of new SDF members. They will not be firing live ammunition.

“We will do our best to minimize the impact on the surrounding area,” Defense Minister Minoru Kihara said at a news conference.

During the briefing, ministry officials emphasized that “no U.S. military training is envisioned,” and that helicopters will only fly in time of disaster or emergency.

Some residents raised questions.

One said: “It is strange to give an explanation after the planning decision has been made. Will the residents’ opinions be reflected from now on?”

Another resident criticized the ministry’s explanation as “completely unreliable,” citing the fact that its plan to deploy missile and other units at a GSDF garrison in Yonaguni, Okinawa Prefecture, was decided after the coastal surveillance unit was set up.

The development of the Uruma training site was initiated after three revised security-related documents were issued in December 2022. The documents included a policy to upgrade the Naha-based 15th Brigade, with about 2,000 personnel, to a division with more SDF members.

“In terms of defense strategy, it is highly significant to have a training site near the troops,” a senior ministry official.

However, the planned site is surrounded by residential neighborhoods and a prefectural youth facility, where elementary, junior high, and high school students stay and study.

In January, two local neighborhood associations passed a resolution opposing the construction of the training site, citing concerns about noise and accident risks associated with helicopter drills.

A council consisting of 15 neighborhood associations in the former Ishikawa city also unanimously voted against the project.

A 71-year-old resident who lives nearby said the training site “will destroy our lives.”

“The noise and accidents caused by the U.S. military alone are unbearable, and it is outrageous that the SDF will further increase the burden with the base,” he said.

The planned site is also in the district of Miyamori Elementary School, where 18 people, including children, were killed when a U.S. military jet crashed in 1959, before Okinawa’s reversion to Japan.

Many people still remember the tragedy.

The 71-year-old man was a first-grader in the area at the time.

“Every time there is an accident involving the U.S. military, it brings back memories of those days. I fear that the same thing may happen again,” he said.

In addition, a surface-to-ship missile unit will be deployed in March at the GSDF Vice Camp Katsuren in Uruma, located about 15 kilometers southeast of the new training site.

Deployment of long-range missiles at the site, for possible strikes against enemy bases that are attacking Japan, is also being considered.

The ministry said it has not yet decided on the deployment site for such missiles. But some Uruma residents are concerned the area may become a target of other countries in the event of a military emergency.

Uruma Mayor Masato Nakamura has yet to indicate his approval or disapproval of the planned GSDF training site.

Some Uruma city assembly members affiliated with the Liberal Democratic Party are sympathetic to the neighborhood associations.

Transcending party lines, a group of city assembly members plans to submit a petition opposing the project to the February assembly session.

In recent years, the GSDF has opened garrisons in the Sakishima isles, including on Yonagunijima, Miyakojima and Ishigakijima islands.

Okinawa Governor Denny Tamaki said such moves make “the people of the prefecture feel danger and anxiety.”

Regarding the new training site in Uruma, Tamaki urged the ministry and the GSDF to “show respect for the wishes of the local community.”

(This article was written by Kaigo Narisawa and Satsuki Tanahashi.)

[mariacallous]

A bill introduced by senators Dick Durbin and Mike Lee to reauthorize the Section 702 surveillance program is the fifth introduced in the US Congress this winter. The authority is threatening to expire in a month, disrupting a global wiretapping program said to inform a third of articles in the President’s Daily Briefing—a morning “tour d’horizon” of US spies’ top concerns.

But the stakes aren't exactly so clear. With or without Congress, the Biden administration is seeking court approval to extend the 702 program into 2025. From the moment US representative Mike Johnson assumed the House speakership, he’s been unable to orchestrate a vote on the program. Outgunned most recently by Mike Turner, the chairman of the House Intelligence Committee, Johnson was forced to kill a vote after a month of negotiations.

This, even though Congress can essentially agree on one thing if nothing else: that the 702 program is vital to the national defense and that it can’t be allowed to expire. Johnson has, once again, vowed to hold a vote on the matter, this time after Easter. And historically, this is where things have begun to fall apart.

The biggest hurdle to reauthorizing the program is a dispute between lawmakers over whether the government should get search warrants before looking up Americans using 702, a massive wiretap database full of millions of email, voice, and text conversations intercepted by spies.

The Durbin-Lee bill contains tweaks designed, its authors say, to meet the Biden administration halfway. While most bills up to now have wrestled over the title of “reform,” Durbin’s has set its sights on being the first to bring compromise.

Unlike past bills, the Security and Freedom Enhancement (SAFE) Act does not require the FBI to get a warrant merely to search the 702 database for US communications. Only if the search finds results is a warrant needed, and only if investigators intend to read the files.

Without going to court, investigators could still learn whether the communications they’re after exist, whether the person they’re investigators spoke with any foreigners under surveillance, and know when those conversations took place. And because it’s generally trivial for law enforcement to obtain these types of records anyway, it's a compromise that most reformers are likely to live with.

The tweak will add to the difficulty the FBI is having convincing lawmakers that warrants will hinder investigations or destroy the program altogether. “This narrow warrant requirement is carefully crafted to ensure that it is feasible to implement,” Durbin says, “and sufficiently flexible to accommodate legitimate security needs.”

“There is little doubt that Section 702 is a valuable national security tool,” adds Durbin, but the program sweeps up “massive amounts of Americans’ communications.”

“Even after implementing compliance measures, the FBI still conducted more than 200,000 warrantless searches of Americans’ communications in just one year—more than 500 warrantless searches per day,” he says.

The SAFE Act contains the same menu of emergency exceptions that members of the House Judiciary Committee offered up in previously introduced legislation. The exceptions would allow the FBI to ignore the warrant requirements during emergencies, such as people faced with imminent harm or death. The bureau can search the database at will using “known threat signatures” linked to cybercrimes as well, a carve-out designed to help the FBI dodge legal red tape while mitigating harm from malicious software.

While the possibility looms that the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court (FISC) will approve the Biden administration’s request, extending the 702 program into 2025 on its own, it's an outcome that all sides seem eager to avoid—improvising a way to prolong a hotly debated surveillance program being a bad look for nearly everyone involved.

One of the program’s core tenets, according to a “fact sheet” distributed by the Office of the Director of National Intelligence (ODNI) this year, reflects the bargain it strikes between the government and the public: US spies are to receive an “invaluable source of intelligence on foreigners located outside the US.” Americans get in return “robust civil liberties and privacy safeguards, overseen by all three branches of government.”

If Congress had meant, in 2018, to reauthorize the 702 program for seven years rather than six, its members wouldn’t have found out last week. Allowing the program to carry on without a mandate from Congress—with nothing but a green light from a secret court—is a legacy of dysfunction that most members aren’t eager to carry, and one that the intelligence community may also come to resent, as people start to question the integrity of its oversight.

“Although the legislation does not include every reform we have called for, it is a thoughtful compromise that would meaningfully restore privacy in the United States,” says Sean Vitka, policy director at Demand Progress, a digital rights nonprofit.

“An overwhelming number of Americans from across the political spectrum want Congress to seize this once-in-a-generation moment and get this done.”

[whentherewerebicycles]

weight talk below the cut!!

[insert standard caveat that no one has to lose weight or feel pressure to lose weight, everyone gets to make decisions about their own bodies, and choices I make about my body are not an implicit judgment of anyone else’s choices!]

I’ve been working for three years—literally almost to the day—to slowly lose weight and keep it off through sustainable long-term lifestyle changes. three years ago this week I was at my highest weight I’ve ever been and was having all kinds of health irritations that I thought were just the result of turning 30/getting older (I now think they were the result of an extremely sedentary lifestyle combined with fairly heavy drinking combined with a really bad processed food diet). anyway I won’t rehash everything as I’ve def written at length about it before but I started eating a whole food plant-based diet and trying to consistently get an hour or more of physical activity every day. it’s sometimes felt like sloooow going, esp compared to the short-term results I used to get with crash dieting (where you’d lose a bunch of what was almost certainly just water weight by starving yourself, only to rocket right back up to your starting weight or higher within a couple weeks or months). but I’ve made changes to my diet and lifestyle that now three years later just feel like a rock solid part of how I eat and plan my day, and I feel the benefits of them so strongly (and the negative effects when I’m traveling or out of my routines and can’t do them) that I think they’re just like… permanent now. best of all I feel like I’ve spent the three years negotiating ways to be flexible around food so I don’t feel all those strong bad feelings of guilt/shame or deprivation that used to characterize my entire relationship with eating. I can make a cake and eat it without feeling like I have to atone for it afterwards. I can be adaptable when I’m traveling while feeling confident that I’ll be able to reestablish healthy routines once the temporary disruption is over. I can calmly regulate my own emotions around food and make good decisions that will make my body feel good too. and even though losing weight happens really slowly, I track it pretty carefully and that helps me see that 1) it’s a steady downward trend and 2) my weight fluctuates significantly less than it used to, which I think means that I’m basically very slowly lowering my ‘resting weight’ (ie the equilibrium weight my body hovers around even as I fluctuate a couple pounds in either direction throughout my cycle). and that is very cool to see!

May 2020: 199 lbs

May 2021: 183 lbs

May 2022: 175 lbs

May(ish) 2023: 169 lbs

I could probably ‘lose faster’ if I restricted calories more, but I don’t want to! a lot of the research says people can lose up to 1-2 lbs a week for sustainable weight loss but that just hasn’t been my personal experience—if I lose too fast by restricting too much, it comes back and the temporary loss doesn’t seem to shift that resting weight baseline for me at all. whereas losing at this rate (less than a pound per month, but with a slooooow steady downward trend) seems to give my body time to readjust and accept the slightly lower weight as its new normal. this is totally unscientific and purely just personal opinion lol but I feel like, we know that the body doesn’t like change and is always trying to reestablish and maintain homeostasis… so in my mind it’s like well if I bring the weight down so, so gradually maybe my body doesn’t really register it as a change it needs to adjust for. anyway I don’t really care about why it works but it’s working for me.

I don’t really set goals around weight loss anymore (or I’m trying not to) because I don’t want to view it as like, a competition with myself that has a clear end goal, but I think bringing my resting weight to somewhere in the 150-160 range would be ideal for me… I have that sturdy Italian + Irish peasant stock build lol I’m not meant to be waif thin nor do I aspire to be. but 150-155ish is a weight I’ve felt very good/healthy at before and in the longer term (like 1-3 years) it’s the place I’d like to get to. I feel like sustainably losing 50 lbs and making lifestyle changes to keep it off is actually a huge fucking deal and if it takes me six years or so to do it that feels kinda right to me… like of course doing a complete and enduring overhaul of your attitudes and habits/routines around food and physical activity is going to take a long time to really firmly and permanently establish. like it took what, 26+ years to establish pretty fucked up and unhealthy routines/mindsets around food and exercise? so in the grand scheme of things six-ish years is actually really fast. also I am just kind of into the slowness of it all as a concept—like, proving to myself I can conceive of and implement a very long-term transformation of this huge area of my life/identity. I like the idea that you can change any aspect of your habits or attitudes once they are no longer serving you well. it’ll take time and patience to do it but you CAN do it.

[libraryofcirclaria]

830 BCE

Library of Circlaria

Remikra Timeline

Preface

Within the span of about five to ten years, large numbers of people from Kitalos and Totia began to settle further into Remikra's interior. While the Totians did so by force, the Kitalans used mostly trade and diplomacy. In this era, both entities stayed within a few hundred miles of the coastlines, as the rate of territorial expansion made travel by ship the fastest route of navigation.

Totia

The desire to expand West, for many Totians, was countered by the presence of black moorwolves, a now-extinct species of wolf known for being extremely aggressive and territorial, as well as being larger than other wolf races. Meanwhile, the Totians expanded down the East Coast of Remikra, claiming land in present-day Combria and Ereautea.

The land in present-day Combria and Ereautea was more desirable, as the climate was slightly warmer, while the soil was fertile. Most important, however, was the presence of valuable minerals. They came to the St. Eschel River, where, at its mouth, they erected a temple (present-day Fort Braddock) in honour of an unnamed deity of "water and bountiful fruit." It was here that a priest made shale into an unusual precious and fragile material and carved it into a perfect human face, delivering it Chief Commander Atairus. This object became known as the Ark of Totia.

As they expanded South into present-day Combria, the Totians encountered an unfamiliar landscape. First, the climate was noticeably different, more temperate than the arctic atmosphere of their homeland. It was in Combria that the pine trees were fewer in number, and were replaced by seasonal deciduous trees as well as grassy knolls. Furthermore, the mountains were lower, with only a few of them being topped with snow during the cold months.

The area making up present-day Jestopole was occupied by the Mundaes, a nomadic group who had settled the area for its plentiful food sources. Their fighting legions were aggressive and defensive, and attacked the first Totian scouting party with no mercy. However, Totian reinforcements quickly defeated them. Two other groups, the Emorans and the Kusayes, who were allied to the Mundaes declared war on the Totians, leading to a three-year conflict. This ended in a stalemate, after which Totia and the two groups negotiated a land treaty, which allowed the nomads to settle the lands South of the St. Eschel River, under the protection of the Totians to the River's North.

Totia, despite being forceful, absorbed Emoran and Kusayean cultures. First, they gained colorful vocabulary describing the rediscovered plants and species in Combria. They also adapted the Emoran method of crafting stone figures of the faces of Divine beings; this was what inspired the making of the Ark of Totia in approximately 831 BCE. The Kusayeans, meanwhile, practiced the making of literary and spellfire inscriptions, with each item being made either of clay or within the earth. The scale of each item was deemed "larger than life," with each bearing great detail. Both the Emoran and Kusaye inspirations combined to bring about the art of building the stone statues for which the Totian Empire became known. But this absorption came with another change. When the Ark of Totia was delivered to him in 827 BCE, Head Commander Atairus granted the responsible Watchman, Krodus, succession to the Head Commander position for when the time would come of Atairus' death. This came as a withdrawal of promise to Alec, who had been previously given the same promise. Alec sought revenge by hiring an assassin, who succeeded in ending Atairus' life. In the three weeks that followed, Alec and Krodus, as well as their bands of Totian soldiers, fought within the streets of Totia. In the end, Alec won, and established himself to be a god-like ruler: an Emperor. While the law-and-order infrastructure retained the same shape, Emperor Alec wielded such power to govern over every aspect of Totian life, including religion, education, and artistic expression.

Alec established an Imperial Court of officials, standing superior to the Watch. The Imperial Court also had superior economic standing. Underneath the Imperial Court, the Emperor, and the remainder of the ruling class was an aristocracy class, followed by a class of landowners, workers, and "outcasts" (foreigners, criminals, or beggars). The landowners pursued a dream of reaping the benefits of the newly-found Combria region with the help of the workers, who were, via Imperial propaganda, coerced into pursuing a "dream" as well. When enough workers grew critical of the idea, Alec began sending slaves and prisoners to the new territory. With these people, labor often involved working in the crop fields or, later on, digging in the mines for precious metals. Meanwhile, crafters began constructing boats and carts as well as city buildings. These professions were slightly higher-paying, and resulted in the city of Totia expanding its jurisdiction to the mainland. However, such crafting was inferior in wealthy compensation to occupations such as a spell scroll librarian, a doctor, or an official for the Imperial Court. Within this society, trade began to develop, with indigenous nomad groups providing animals and fur for the Totians in exchange for valuable treasures, including quartz, which was discovered along the banks of the St. Eschel River.

Until this time, some Totians believed horses to be simply mythical creatures while others believed that they died out during the Ashen Years two centuries previously. The existence of horses was, in other words, a subject of speculation among Totians. However, during the first exploration of present-day Combria, the Totians were both horrified and amazed that their enemies, the Mundaes, were riding horses. Defeat for the Mundaes came when the Totians, with the help of their allies, developed assassin darts to eliminate key Mundae targets; but the Totians, having keen interest, began taking these horses for their own. Much to the skepticism of the leadership in Totia, Watch Officers and their soldiers boasted about having such creatures. The delivery of the Ark of Totia, however, came via a messenger on a horse, as he rode it into Totia for proof. From that point on, horses were considered highly-valued prized possessions.

In the regions of present-day Combria and Ereautea, it was much easier to grow large amounts of wheat and barley. Half of the yields of each land owner was taxed by Emperor Alec and commanded to be sent North to Totia. Thus, Totia saw nearly an oversupply of food. Much of this was also distributed to the surrounding Northern territories, allowing for the Totian Empire to begin its path to prosperity. Totians also rediscovered more sources of fresh water, most notably from the Taup River and Lake Relion between present-day Jestopole and Terredon, and also from the St. Eschel River. With more land came more trees, which provided plenty of burning fuel. All of these resources were harvested by those in slavery and indentured servitude composed mostly of the Mundae, Kusaye, and Emoran nomadic groups who were defeated.

However, a well-compensated occupation that came into existence was the Imperial message carrier. Carrying either scrolls or parchment, a carrier would usually ride from one place to another to deliver messages between two parties, most notably between the Imperial Offices and the regional Watch Offices. Early on, carriers would walk these distances; but later on, they used horses to spread communication in a quicker fashion. Both Totian cantons and towns out in the Northern and Combrian lands each had a center for conveying news to the local inhabitants, either in the form of large bulletins or pedestals for speakers. Between Totia and these towns, roads were not built, but rather formed by beaten-down paths made by common traffic. Eventually, wooden signs were made to indicate the direction and distance of certain places relative to the traveler's position. Totians were also known for making some of Remikra's first maps, using notable landmarks as guideposts. The most common mode of transportation was walking. However, people also used mule-driven carts, Totian ships along the coast, and, for those who were wealthy enough, horses.

As more outposts were established, there was a rise in demand for infantry soldiers. Watch Officers gave military opportunities to criminals and defeated nomadic prisoners of war to join the ranks of the Totian Army, with special checks and balances to prevent these people from uniting in mutiny against the Totians. This strategy was very successful, allowing the Empire to increase in size; and such a system inspired the idea of "becoming a citizen" in countries that would exist later on. Many nomadic groups began navigating on ships for trade, forming some of the first post-Ashen sea merchant guilds. Some of these groups turned hostile toward the Totians, prompting Emperor Alec to expand the Totian Navy. Those who fought alongside the Totians were the Kusaye and Emoran groups, who became allies after diplomacy deals following their defeat. However, the Fundae and Mundae groups remained hostile, while some factions from within these entities broke off to remain neutral from the situation.

Small libraries for spellfire scrolls began to crop up in the larger Totian outposts as they grew, with a trained librarian managing each. Indigenous nomads added to the spellfire vocabulary as scribes copied contributions to an ever-increasing archive of scrolls. Although in practice since before the Ashen Years, it was during this time that warriors sought more frequently to these scribes and librarians to enhance their weapons. For example, a library-influenced enhancement of the Totian bow-and-arrow to strike targets from further distances was believed to have initially been the tactic to help defeat the Mundaes on horseback.

Kitalos

Staying West of the Magnumarian Shield, Kitalan settlers moved down the West Coast, where they picked up a variety of exotic crops. Some, however, began exploring the highlands, where they cultivated Remikra's first potato crops.

Up to this point, most Kitalans lived in shacks made of either straw, mud, or mulch from a crop imported from the Northern boundary known as flaxweed. As they traveled down the coast, though, the Kitalan settlers discovered large deposits of white marble. They began carving out of these slabs, using the marble to build houses and other structures, as well as irrigation systems. As a result, the West Coast began to take on the white marble urban landscape that it bears today.

Kitalan explorers were keen to continue South, rather than North, along the coast of the Magnumarian Ocean for a variety of reasons. Along this region, the terrain and elevation remained mostly the same. However, the vegetation began to change drastically as they neared the tropics. Palm and coconut trees became more frequent along the beaches, while thick jungles sprung up inland, where hundreds, even thousands, of different plant and animal species were noted. According to unconfirmed accounts, there were, on occasion, observations of "leather birds" which closely resembled prehistoric lothars; such "leather birds," however, had they existed, went extinct not long after. Just like in the Kitalan capital to the North, there was a wet and dry season. However, the air, in general was more humid; and the heat was more intense. Sometimes, during the wet season, tropical cyclone systems would lash the coastline with relentless wind and rain.

Members of the Quitzdodal population were encountered here; and they began to mix with the Kitalans, giving the Kitalan ethnicity a more Southerly appearance. These groups had vocabulary for the variety of plants and animals that existed here, as well as the weather patterns. These people also believed in a unified spirit which existed in reality in the form of all living animals, with the souls of each rejoining the One Spirit after death before reincarnation. This, according to scholars today, was perhaps a partial inspiration to a lot of the existing monotheistic religions. Instruments of plant material from this region became included in the consorts of musicians who began journeying around Kitalan lands, especially in the North, which drew even more people to exploring the Southern regions. Stories and fables depicting trips into the jungle regions with plant and animal encounters were presented on large murals in the city of Kitalos; many of these murals can still be seen today. Such stories were also played out in theatrical settings. And it was during this time that Kitalos began sending out post-Ashen Remikra's first scientists, who observed these new exotic regions and added their notes to Kitalan libraries. As Kitalan territory expanded and the Kitalan population began to grow, so did the Kitalan Council and the number of local councils. In accordance to Kitalos' policies of openness, the Quitzdodal members were integrated into the system, with a lot of them attaining elected positions of power.

Such an attainment by the Quitzdodal led to advantages in the Kitalan democracy, as the head Council passed a measure in the Kitalan Moral Code to establish a base minimum compensation for all rural dwellers as well as lower-class people within the city. Along with the current economic system came a profession of merchants who would trade Quitzdodalan goods for wealth or services, as the Quitzdodal established a network chain of trade between Kitalos and the Southerly regions. By this time, the coins made of gold ore in the Magnumarian Shield became the dominant form of Kitalan currency. Olives, wheat, barley, and maize continued to dominate the Kitalan food market. Rainwater collected in the Southern jungles was transported back North via carts in exchange for goods from the North. Most importantly, however, was the discovery of a large clay bed on the Southernmost shoreline; such material was used in making bricks for the ever-expanding road network.

The Quitzadodals brought to Kitalan society the idea of placing reference messages on trees (i.e. telling someone to speak to another party at a certain time). This was adapted in the North by placing large wooden polls in the center of each town. These messages were not carved on, but were rather written in the form of a glowing paint made of spellfire crafting, which would later be washed off. Many of these polls were placed on the sides of Kitalan roads, which served as some of the first traffic signs in Remikran society. These became important as the road network began to expand and grow more complex. To help simplify the situation, the Kitalan Council passed measures to make the roads more consistent throughout the territory. For example, the clay material found in the Southernmost shoreline was the standard material used for the main routes to endure the constant traffic of walkers, soldiers, and animal-drawn carts.

Not all Quitzadodals were friendly to the Kitalans. When contact was first made between the two, half of the Quitzadodalan population separated and formed a hostile faction. The two halves fought one another frequently, with one of the halves being allied to the Kitalans. One disadvantage that the Kitalans encountered was that their eagles were not able to fly very well in the tropical regions, as they were accustomed to high elevations and wintry conditions. This made defense very difficult, considering, also, that the enemies hit their targets by "pea-shooting" poison darts from atop jungle trees. However, the Kitalans and their allies adapted by utilizing a discovery they made by the seaside: clam pearls producing the spellfire needed to conceal oneself. With this resource, they managed to strike the enemy treetop shooters and take over the treetops themselves.

An issue that arose with the "invisibility pearls" was that once the spellfire was spent in a given pearl, the spellfire was spent permanently. After years of experimentation, Kitalan librarians and spellfire scholars managed to obtain the inscriptions needed for the concealment spell.

<- 835 BCE <- || -> 825 BCE ->

[thinktank2024-max-love]

Oliver Baldwin

Baldwin is a self-employed audio engineer and dubbing mixer who has worked with a range of artists and projects such as BCNR, PJ Harvey and Blue Planet III. He started out by writing to every studio in Bristol and secured an internship at J&J studios in 2013 which led him into an assistant role. Here is where Baldwin was picked to engineer with Gordon Rapheal (long-time producer for The Strokes) which was instrumental to Baldwin working up the ranks. Since 2016, Baldwin has been the engineer for producer John Parish alongside to working on all David Attenborough projects from 2020 onwards. A key element to Baldwin’s succusses is his approach to recording, he only uses Pro Tools as a tape machine. Very minimal editing in post-production, everything is crafted as final as possible before being recorded which are usually not conventional sounds or approaches.  

As a self-employed engineer, managing finances and keeping a steady cashflow can be almost impossible in recent years. In Baldwins case, he was able to bring in steady work/income with working with lots of small local bands “I would do 2–3-day sessions and then they would pay me, there would be a constant flow of small amounts of money”. Which allowed him to work towards bigger projects such as Blue Planet III, which unfortunately, has a catch of not paying until its finished; which could take up to 6 months. “You have to build into your contract negotiations for when you get paid, that's just not me. I run a very loose ship”. Which is the case for a lot of musicians and engineers as most are just casual, friendly people, not an accountant or lawyer. So, it can be tricky trying to fight your ground with larger projects who don’t expect to pay you for months at a time.  

In recent years, on top of traditional freelance obstacles of starting out and ensuring the work is trickling in until you reach larger projects, the COVID-19 pandemic and cost of living crisis adds a whole new range of stresses and struggles to a freelancer. In some ways the pandemic helped grow the remote side of working which allows for different types of music to evolve, no travel costs and allows freelancers to work with new people who can’t all be in the same room together. The pandemic really forced the technology to allow for these types of sessions to be possible.  

However, because of working remotely becoming easier, cost of living/pandemic and DIY home recording becoming more popular, more studios are forced to close its doors. In the third wave of the 2021 lockdown “between January to March, out of 2,482, 1858 stayed open and 624 closed. 9.8% (243) are part of a business where studio operation is not their primary function” (Department of Digital, Culture, Media and Sport, 2021). This is an additional challenge to up-and-coming engineers to those like Baldwin a decade ago who need studios to really progress and make a living out of their profession. An additional challenge to all of this is everything in the UK is mainly based in London, which has its own set of challenges.  

Similarly to the struggles of closure of so many grassroots venues, there won’t be any professional engineers if they don’t have the spaces to learn in to work up to the high-end facilities. This is a struggle for students such as myself who are the people hoping to get into these spaces eventually as studios are infamously difficult to get into, let alone with them many shutting down. It makes this sector more competitive because the less to go round, studios will only accept those who have already a wealth of knowledge and experience to keep things safe.

[primordialruin]

VERSES

paradise chants : Set in Eden days. Lilith has just been created alongside Adam and is exploring paradise together with him. She's easily impressionable, but doubtful when it comes to submission and taking orders. Can see the cracks in the rules.

hymns of independence : Set after her separation from Adam. She meets Lucifer and the rest of the Sins. Together, they spread the gift of independent thought to Eve in the form of an apple. Her hidden intentions are unclear. The possibilities: bring Adam up to her level by making him see the world as she sees it and to make a point to Heaven's order that something needs to change.

(MAIN VERSE / CANON DIV - NO DISAPPEARANCE) choirs of inspiration : Is thrown in Hell together with the rest of the traitors where they become the monarchs of the realm. She thrives through inspiring sinners with her song as her points get proven again and again with every new soul that falls. Fails to inspire discernment in her preaching of independence. The people she tries to inspire take things to extremes, but she maintains hope in a realm that can be good enough for everyone. She's a fiery ball of hope and endurance and has complete faith in her realm. Becomes a mother to a child she calls Charlotte together with Lucifer, whom she marries. Adores her little family. Actively resists the exterminations by trying to negotiate the terms & find loopholes to end it.

RELATIONSHIP TO LUCIFER: thread dependent - either complicated (separation/divorced), or reconciled & going stronger.

While the Choirs of Inspiration verse is used as the main verse, this blog will offer alternative universes that serve to explain the canon events in the cartoon: Dealing Notes AU, Monarch Mystery AU, Seeking Solutions AU & Mystery Solutions AU. All are available for plotting.

Disappearance verses:

(DEALING NOTES AU) a necessary cadence: through all the things that she has been able to inspire, discernment was among the concepts she failed to do. Though she resisted it at first, she had come to agree that this was the best course of action to fix the broken system of her fallen philosophy. No one will mobilize if there's lawlessness. Freedom is meaningless if you use it to enslave others. Her reputation had already been stained on Earth, so Lilith decided to accept it in Hell. For the good of her kingdom, she would become its villain, accepting the exterminations. Sacrifices were needed for the sake of her Utopia to ensue... She hoped she had inspired enough love for her denizens in her daughter for the baton of hope to be passed onto her, for Lilith knows that her decision would not end well for herself. She is the necessary evil, after all. For the past seven years, she would be residing in Heaven with Adam who was tasked to carry out the plan, bounded to him for the rest of their lives as it had been intended. The subconscious and conscious mind reunited, created to create, reconciled to destroy.

(MONARCH MYSTERY AU) smothered arpeggio echoes : A sudden shift in her personality happened over 20 years ago. Where a serene smile used to be, a frown took its place and all of her sweetened words of empowerment ended on an abrupt note after the princess's governess that she had been relying on perished in one of the exterminations. She stopped her impromptu inspiring of her denizens and turned her back on Lucifer, taking their daughter away from him every chance they attempted to bond and drove a wedge between them with incriminating tales at his address. A separation was imminent. If only they'd paid attention to her eyes more - why was her sclera red? Why were her violet pupils white? Something's not adding up.

(MONARCH MYSTERY AU) silence of the lambs : She has been gone for the past 7 years. After figuring that the Heavenly embassy in Hell disconnected her from the entity she had been bound to for thousands of years, she eventually sought asylum from her former husband to escape Hell. A new overlord rises to power from the Cannibal Colony.

(MONARCH MYSTERY AU) the cover is not the songbook : Set in the aftermath of Season 1. The Queen of Hell has returned from her 7 years long sabbatical. Rosie is cozying up with the Royal family. Appears to have a friendship with the Queen of Hell but they both vehemently deny it when inquired about it.

(SEEKING SOLUTIONS AU) symphonies of protests : Arguing against the exterminations led nowhere. Her obsession with proving that the exterminations didn't need to happen soured her relationship with her husband and eventually led to a separation. Fearing that his distaste in sinners would rub off on their daughter, she began to keep them apart. 7 years ago, Lilith embarked on a journey to find the roots of Hell's creation in order to figure out a way to expand the realm and put an end to the overpopulation problem. The deeper she ventured in the lowest depths of Hell (Sheol), the more her devices began to glitch. At some point, Lilith lost all connection to civilization. In the end, she found what she was looking for, but her discovery was much more unpredictable, unstable and dangerous than she expected.

(SEEKING SOLUTIONS AU) a cacophony of pleas : She fought for her life to escape the entity. For years, she lived on edge, the lack of sleep and safe nourishment beginning to take its toll on her as she tried to get out of the maze the entity had created. Her attempts at transporting herself home were in vain as the Roots of Evil forced the portals to point back to her starting point. 7 Years later, she returned to Hell extremely disoriented and with an inability to properly recall what she'd seen. The scrambled blur in her mind made it difficult to recall anything prior to ending up on a serene beach a while ago. Why was she in Heaven? And why did she feel like she wasn't supposed to be there? She knew she had an aversion to returning to her home realm, but she couldn't (wouldn't) recall why. Self preservation gave her the brilliant incentive to invoke a way to Heaven as a last resort to escape, but the toll of the years she spent tortured by the inescapable insanity of her predicament made Lilith draw a blank about everything else in her life.

(MYSTERY SOLUTIONS AU) smothered crescendo : Twenty years ago, Lilith went on an expedition in the lower depths of Hell (Sheol) to figure out the origins of Hell for the purpose of finding a way to expand it & prove that the exterminations weren't needed. Unbeknownst to her, she was led into a trap by the denizen who organized the expedition. The Lilith that returned was changed. Her sclera was red & her irises white. Her empowering speeches came to a halt & her relationship with her husband became strained. Though still against the exterminations, the reason behind her resistance changed - she didn't believe in her Utopia anymore, but the more sinners Hell harbored, the stronger it was against Heaven.

(MYSTERY SOLUTIONS AU) interval of silence : Hell was left without a Queen after her prompt decision to leave it. For 7 years, she had severed her ties with the realm through a deal she had struck with her former husband. Her reason? The embassy was the only place that disconnected her from the entity that had bound the Queen's replacement to it for thousands of years. While the true Lilith was laid to rest in a dark sea of Hellish ruins for over 20 years, the fake Lilith rested away from the commotion in Hell on a private beach that only Adam and Lute knew about. She hoped to never have to return to Roo again.

Theories under the cut. (To be discussed with mutuals, this is merely a suggestion rather than a solid thing)

Theories the blog follows: Lilith was replaced with Eve or another entity who destabilized and separated the Morningstar family. She appeared some time during Charlie's childhood. (Evidence: the portrait in which Lilith glares at Charlie from the pilot, the family portrait alongside the Von Eldritch family where she appears to glare at her husband and daughter, and episode 5 where she's seen taking Charlie from Lucifer, her eyes being hidden - violet eyes vs red sclera and white irises). The real Lilith has been missing for more than 7 years. Possibly held captive by the entity that replaced her. Might have tangents with Alastor. There's a fanon speculation that links her to Rosie. I also follow the theory that Roo (Root of all Evil - an upcoming villain) is the branches, eyes, and the creator of the Hellish pit.

I will not push my AUs on anyone & will always default to the Choirs of Inspiration verse unless my RP partners are interested in exploring the alternatives.

(MONARCH MYSTERY AU)

This AU serves as the main plot of the blog that explains Lilith's enigmatic whereabouts in the canon cartoon. It is inspired by the fanon theories that speculate that the real Lilith was replaced by Eve & that Lilith is currently living as the Overlord Rosie.

(SEEKING SOLUTIONS AU) This AU serves as an alternative plot of the blog that explains Lilith's enigmatic whereabouts in the canon cartoon. It excludes the fantheories that the Monarch Mystery AU relies on & focuses on Lilith as a standalone character. Rosie is a character that's separate from Lilith & Eve never replaced the Queen on the throne.

(MYSTERY SOLUTIONS AU)

Combines elements from Monarch Mystery & Seeking Solutions. This AU follows Eve as Lilith's replacement, but leaves the Rosie theory out.

[voiceinthesky]

Karvosti

Whatever the truth may be, the cliff of Karvosti rises like a lonely island from the ocean of trees. For centuries, if not millennia, its plateau has been a sanctuary for people fleeing the horrors below. For the last five hundred years, it has also been considered neutral ground – a place where people from all corners of the world may engage in conversation, negotiation and commerce, and where the Guard of the Slumbering Wrath will guarantee their safety.

The question is, for how long will the wrathguards be able to carry out the duties that demand more of them with every passing day?

Many people, barbarians and Ambrians alike, fantasize about what life is like up there amongst the wrathguards, sun priests and witches; how it would feel to stand on the plateau and behold the mighty forest below. Very few ever get the opportunity to actually set foot on the cliff. Usually, such a visit would require a difficult and perilous journey through monster-infested woods, and a lengthy absence from one’s crops or whatever means of livelihood one might have.

Hence, apart from its small number of permanent residents and members of the delegations sporadically sent by the clans, Karvosti is visited almost exclusively by people with nothing to lose or live for. Sure, there are exceptions – meticulously organized expeditions made by explorers or fortune hunters who are using Karvosti as a base of operations, or have planned a brief stay on the cliff to rest.

These may be groups led by Ordo Magica, the Black Cloaks, or possibly some ambitious noble. Such visits tend to aggravate the already tense atmosphere on the cliff, for though the High Chieftain and the witches must accept the Ambrian presence, they do not look kindly on fortune hunters who violate the barbarians’ well-founded taboos. All too often their fears are confirmed when the expeditions bring with them the darkness of the forest below – as a result of shameful intrusions into some abominable creature’s territory, or the theft of its treasures.

[spirituallesbianblog]

Spirit Psychology - My Cosmic Toolkit For A Soul Adventure On Earth

My journey to Nirvana has been littered with the universal winds of change in the form of contrast a designer soul theme for attaining the highest order of consciousness. The right of passage is reincarnation a never-ending cycle of soul rebirth as a human on a planet of peculiar interplay in how we connect with people, places, and our chosen way of life. Here, the human element can strangle the souls' progress down in the trenches of Mother Earth, through recurring patterns that repeat on command as psychology. A studious look at how we tick as a human through our experiences here on earth and the impact they have on the conscious and unconscious mind. For example, a child may endure physical and emotional abuse under the care of their primary guardians causing deep wounding and a car wreck of psychological issues. Our childhood trauma can cause mayhem in adult life. and interactions with other battle-weary people who also carry the scars of earlier injustice. My reference is a misunderstanding of why I chose the romantic partners I did and as a lesbian called in emotionally unavailable women. This has prompted me to consider the need for a new awareness and knowledge of psychology so we can self-manage our experiences to achieve healthier approaches to all aspects of an evolving human existence.

'Walking through minefields with conditioned patterns hampering our every move could be replaced with a conscious intelligence of our inner issues and why we feel the way we do'

This could be feeling displaced as a gay female in a world with a biased mindset. Or repetitive choices in partners who are co-dependent or controlling. With the basic tools of psychology, we could negotiate our options with an educative stance instead of walking blindly into circumstances with the unconscious mind in the pilot's seat. It is from here our flight can get shaky as the memory of past behaviors is reignited as a program stored in our subconscious from the day we were born to our first kiss or relationship. These events may lie dormant until triggered by a present moment that registers the emotions taken on board from a similar happening. As conscious humans, we steer our course armed with a script of reincarnation and all we have learned thus far. Every moment is recorded in our subconscious and this is where life can get messy especially if the suppressed emotions of past abuse are held in the abyss of the unconscious, The hidden factor of our psyche that raises its often ugly head in the form of depression and other related illness is painful stuff we bury until the time we are ready to bring it up for a review. Once again the interactions of life can be the fuse that lights a path for true healing as I discovered years after a sexual abuse when my emotions were triggered and I realized the true effects this event had on my body and heart. You never really know how deep the pain goes until something trips the unconscious memory and you revisit the visuals of what happened and how it made you feel. This is a defining moment and opening for healing from fear and trauma.

'The sad part is if we hold onto the terror of a situation we may learn destructive habits like medicating with alcohol and drugs to numb it out rather than face it head-on

'The god or divine I understand works with me to co-create a universe of expansion that overflows to my personal experience as an eternal soul on an expedition of conscious advancement'

It is here I take each moment as a symbolic way to evaluate my place in the cosmos and as a flesh and blood entity another mastermind of this source, god or divine. Coupled with an awareness of my light-body origins as a soul while hitting the boardwalk periodically as a member of the human race brings me to a sense of connection with the stars and Planet Earth. The schoolyard for animated intimacy in all aspects of earthly life. Tightly clutching my pre-ordained proposal of how my soul can sparkle its essence of light sets a mindset of forward motion. This journey of adventure brings a soul close-up with contrast as all kinds of actions and emotions are played out for the higher echelons of spiritual expansion. We get to feel hurt, love, and euphoria. A package of human sentiments stylized for the path and purpose we set forth on. One day we may be watching a sunrise on the beach while another may bring heartache as a loved one leaves this earth. The array of experiences begins from the day we are born till we meet our loved ones on the other side. In between is a magnitude of crazy, confusing, and conscious choices. All are tailored to achieve the magic elixir we call growth. A mysterious mix of light bulb moments and lightning bolts that test the validity of who we are and how much we think we know. This is the light-filled ladder to enlightenment a spiritual quest of an unknown quantity fueled by a soul's desire to seek the holy grail of awareness. From this, a human heightens their view of the world and what lies beneath the surface of what we have been told is true.

'It's an insatiable crusade that once begun opens doors to a deeper understanding of our role in this transcendent universe'

Now we are not only human but inspiringly spiritual adding a dynamic of intuitive sentience to our mortal stockpile. The puzzle fits and life has decidedly changed. It is at this point the relationship we have with ourselves and others can be tested as those who hold comfort in this 3-D hologram feel the discomfort of our altered state of perception. All that has happened is a connection to the divine a creator of infinite love. And this unravels most of what we have learned as students of Planet Earth. What happens next is life-altering when the conscious mind meets an ethereal entourage and the news we are not alone but share this complex cosmos with spirits and angels that guide our soul journey. It is like a huge hello to another family with us all along. And with this knowledge, we can set forth on this often precarious life journey as part of a cosmic and earthly team. This is the angelic art of co-creation. The mainstay of our mortal pathway as a conscious way to expand this universe and the resonance of divine mastery sought through our human experience. So what could make this trek through an array of worldly and personal events easier on our psyche? The answer is packing a tool kit of appreciation for the hardships and highs we might encounter so each wild and weird happening can be evaluated and understood. It's an awake hike through the recesses of our epic human form, Engineered for the processing of moment-by-moment affairs of a soul's heroic tour on earth. The intrepid manual of life's hurts and hurdles is a must-have in today's hot spots of psychological malfunction. The problem is we have learned to do things in ways that deter our happiness.

'Our wires get crossed by way of interaction where outcomes are anything from family abuse to codependent tendencies and control tactics to enslave another human'

'A little knowledge goes a long way in a world ripped apart by people who react or interact negatively with no idea what is the root cause'

This breeds an aura of distrust of others' intentions and carries a disarming apathy from generation to generation. The dishonor to our species as a collective energy of intelligence takes center stage as broken relationships highlight our lack of psychological awareness. An Illiteracy that can be remedied with self-therapy and the perception it's okay to call on the experts for resolution. Instead, we flounder in the dark shadows of our unconscious in a mind game of detachment never quite sure why something feels off. And it probably is as we have become adept at burying our troubles, trauma, and emotions creating a holding tank of agony we can't deal with. Meanwhile, the fuse is lit for a triggered response to unleash what is hidden and wanting to be healed. We are complex beings and superbly designed for the dramas of life.  We come with a conscious and subconscious mind that filters the theatre of souls long-haul on earth. That is in the moment and as a vault of emotive, traumatic constraint. It is here the major events that shock us to the core are kept until we are ready to process their effect. This can be years after a similar situation triggers what lies beneath. The clearing out of feelings from painful memories induces newfound health and lightness, The same can apply if we are not living by our values or in an authentic light. Happenings will occur on repeat until you burst the dam of deceit. That is knowing there is a problem but continuing to suppress the nagging vibes that can no longer be silenced. As humans, we tend to block our own path by not feeling ready or willing to pull up the anchor of our deepest held hurts. So likely to be accumulated in a world of narcissistic wounding.

'The victim may take the brunt of another person's pain whose own wounds are crying for ease'

It's a bounce-back effect that requires healing intervention for psyche health. And if we are well-versed in the basics of psychology we will know there is work to be done. When you think that most things on the planet such as a car or home require maintenance we begin to understand that so do we. Every day is a walk through a jungle of unknown quantity and the thoughts, feelings, and actions taken could burn a forest to the ground. It could also induce an aura of planetary distress as the collective ignites a wave of ruin calling it fashionable progress. Whether it's an individual or global energy of force the fallout will be felt like a dark-edged dagger piercing our hearts. That is if we continue on a path of carnage implementing the colosseum style of banishment in favor of shining a torch on our personal make-up. The blueprint of our human identity and likeness to all others here on earth. Our mystical, magical design has a common chord of discord specified in our similar patterns, conditionings, and well-earned verses of trauma, Deep within our unconscious lies horror movie memories, and events that were brutal in the making.  At this point, it can get messy as the emotional effects of an incident or accident will rise rapidly to the surface. And like a diver gasping for air, you'll feel the shift as a redo of consciousness. When we are willing to transcend the tougher times we bring in the enchantment of growth a sacred awareness that moves us closer to understanding how we fit into this world and universe. You see what we take in from our day of birth impacts every moment as thoughts, behaviors, and emotions. A tornado of testing ensues and how we navigate every situation depends on what we think we know.

'That for me was building a foundation of psychology so I could accept and heal life's melodrama that can leave you shaken, broken, and hurt'

The payoff is knowledge and putting into practice the ways we can help ourselves when tragedy strikes. This inspires a quicker response if we have been victimized and traumatized by a person's unfulfilled needs. Knowing enough to analyze and understand what has happened and how we feel could mean a faster road to recovery. It's all about taking the initiative and becoming aware of the human psyche. A smart move when faced with an acceleration of narcissism the true epidemic on earth where a person defies unity and sets forth on a journey of the self with no reference to the loving intent of self-love or compassion toward others. Narcissism has cemented its self-lusting ideal firmly in the heart of those who see superiority, self-adulation, envy, and jealousy as their conscious objective with a need to dominate and take from others as an entitled right. Having encountered this delightful character led me to learn and up-skill my lessons in psychology mixed fervently with my spiritual beliefs. This spirit-psychology is a powerful combo for everyday life in a world of wounded and unhealed souls. The pain we cause each other without understanding why is a testament to the need for self-tuition in the art of human behavior as we are a multi-faceted race of beings with a penchant for self-denial, destruction, and decadence. I personally have made it a mission to learn as much as I can about how I work as a human navigating this life knowing I am a soul and co-creator with the divine. It's a jampacked epic coming here so my spirit psychology toolkit is piled high with classic and innovative teaching that allows me to understand my inner workings and how this crazy journey affects my everyday. There is plenty of free stuff online that you can access or subscribe to an educator of this spiritual and psychological mix. It works for this divine feminine who has achieved mammoth healing from some heavy-duty experiences by listening to the experts and then applying their wisdom to her own hurts and childhood wounds. If we let the pain wallow in our subconscious chances are we will never know the lightness of walking this earth free from our past intrusions. This is a world inspired by unhealed interaction and the price is failed relationships both straight, gay, lesbian, and bisexual. It's time to step up and learn how to take care of our human psyche and spiritual health. This will help elevate the collective and bring a high frequency of wellness to Planet Earth.

'Spirit Psychology heralds a future where all people will rejoice in healthier choices by taking the initiative to learn ways that inspire our spiritual and mortal health'

Author ~ Linda E Cole (The Divine Feminine)