#its hard to say how effective it would be. its very unprecedented as a situation

[qoldenskies]

Does the Hidden City have any therapists Dontron could seek in the future? Because God love em, these kids are trying but they are. *Kids*. And a horrifically traumatized & depressed rat dad

unfortunately they're not registered as hidden city citizens, probably dont have the money for it (it's not like donnie's. uh. capable of doing much right now), and have a history of being arrested and conspiring with criminals (draxum). although ive always kind of imagined draxum would receive a full pardon after the s2 finale and this would eventually be rectified, so there's a possibility! if they ever did it'd probably be around post-movie times. it'd be a whole process but i could definitely see them considering it.

[swift--fox]

Maybe Death Does Know a Thing or Two... And Dean

Part twwwwwooooo!!! to this fic right here! With the help of @pissbabydean, we got through it somehow! Thanks babe. ily!

Also @wordstrings thank you for this prompt idea! I was going to tage you in the last one and then I was stupid.

~~~

Dean’s a whore. Cas provides. And is also an asshole. Sam hates them both.

~~~

“So, Dean? What’s it going to be?” Cas asked, silky smooth next to Dean’s ear.

“I-I...” Dean tried, but nothing came out. He was still stiff as a board, eyes trained on the door. It looked so appealing, but the burning on his back from where the fingers were laid kept him from moving towards it.

After a long thirty seconds that felt more like eons to Dean, he felt maybe actions were easier than words right now. He allowed his arms to relax, and he moved them away from his sides. Ever so slightly, and only a couple of inches. He could feel his hands shaking.

“Is that your answer?” Cas asked, teasingly. His voice ran deeper than normal, causing Dean to have to fight the urge to scrunch his neck up to his ears.

He gave a weak nod, eyes still trained on the door. His arms reeled back into place, glued to his sides, as soon as Cas’s whirred to life. They gently scratched at the hollows of his ribs, hitting every pocket of nerves they could in the soft flesh between bone.

Dean was already laughing. The vulnerability he became subject to in their previous conversation heightened his senses. He leaned back into Cas, trying to use him for stability. Cas stepped back, gently helping Dean to the floor, never stopping the onslaught to his sensitive sides.

Once Dean was laying flat on his back, Cas stopped in order to swivel himself around, landing on Dean’s lap. The door was no longer an option he thought, as he stared up into the angels eyes. They held the look of mischief, and sadism. Two looks Dean had never seen cross the other man's features before now. Both that would have terrified him in any other situation. But here, now, all he felt was a nervous excitement.

Cas placed his hands on Dean’s sides again, just holding them there. He felt the stomach under him tense and suck in, while the hunter squirmed lightly under his hold. He didn’t move, though - not yet. He wanted Dean to stew before he attacked.

Dean’s eyes went wide as he felt nimble fingers reach for his sides, already squirming. When the fingers didn’t move though, he felt himself involuntarily sucking in his stomach, a feeble attempt at averting the soon-coming onslaught. When the fingers still did not move, he screwed his eyes shut. The tension began to build to an almost intolerable level.

That’s all Cas needed to finally dig in. His fingers squeezed the sensitive flanks twice, before deliberately wiggling into the soft flesh. He revelled in the gasp and the loud, bright laughter it brought out of his hunter. He felt frantic hands grappling at his forearms. His angelic strength kept them from having much effect, though he could tell there was no real strength behind them. More instinct than anything else.

Dean’s eyes flew wide at the first pinch, his arms immediately squeezed to his sides at the second. His hands flew to grab at Cas’s hands, more to ground himself rather than push him away. Once Cas started kneading, he screamed from the built up anticipation and release. He writhed and bucked under the grinning angel, his laughter taking on different pitches and qualities as Cas migrated from spot to spot - these reactions were duly noted in the back of his mind. 

“Cas! Cahahahas! Wahahait!” Dean screeched, the first words he’d spoken since wanting to run for the door.

He was in the middle of an admittedly cruel assault of his underarms, though Cas noted Dean still wasn’t putting up much of a fight - certainly not what the hunter was capable of (in fact, he was almost sure Dean had loosened his arms so he could get to the protected skin)- when he realised how loud the hunter had started to become. He uncurled his fingers from where they were digging into the soft flesh and trailed them down his sides, feather-light, to rest at his waistband. Dean’s laughter had tapered off into almost-giggly breathing while he tried to catch his breath.

“Dean, if you continue screaming like that, Sam is bound to hear you.” Cas smirked down, meeting the hunter’s gaze.

Dean bristled and glowered up at the smug angel.

“I was not screaming,” He huffed, an insult sitting on the tip of his tongue. It never made its way out though, as Cas’s fingers decided that was the best time to dip into his waistband. He clamped his arms down and frantically batted at the intruding digits.

“Play nice, or I’ll give you a reason to scream,” He tutted, “I built you up from nothing, I know exactly how to tear you back down.”

A jolt of anxiety laced excitement ran down Dean’s spine and he sucked in a sharp breath with a hiss as he curled his toes. 

“I’ve been to hell and back. I can handle you,” He challenged, hiding his nerves behind an easy smirk.

“You are very confident for a man in your current position-” Castiel dipped down to right beside Dean’s ear, fingers wiggling to life, gently playing with the skin right above his waistband. “Maybe we should find out how long that confidence will last.”

Dean’s breath hitched, and shut his eyes. Before his brain could comprehend what his mouth was saying, he blurted, “Bring it.”

“Of course. But remember; keep it down. You scream, and I stop. You don’t want that, do you?”

Dean swallowed and didn’t reply, words failing him as he surveyed the predatory and calculating look on the other man. But, actions did speak louder than words, didn’t they? 

He stuck out his tongue. 

Castiel, the winged sadistic bastard, drilled right into his hips. 

His thumbs massaged, rubbed, vibrated along the hypersensitive ridges of bone while his fingers fluttered and scritched at his sides. Dean’s mouth fell open in what was going to be a scream until Cas leaned down and licked a stripe up his neck. The unprecedented and ticklish sensation ended up tangling his tortured scream with a choked snort and he just ended up coughing.

He was a little more prepared to fight against the urge to just screech until his vocal chords tapped out, but it didn’t stop choked laughter from spilling out between his lips. As hard as he tried to keep himself under control, there was only so much he could stop from bubbling to the surface. With his smile wide, he could only pull his lips back in a scowl for a few seconds. But it was long enough for Cas to notice the strangled surprise flash across his features.

“You look surprised, Dean. Did you think I was bluffing?” He teased, skating his hand over to spider at the center of his abdomen - the soft spot just under his ribs that made him toss his head back and tumble into full-belly laughter that he was having a hard time stifling. 

“You’re being very inconsiderate to Sam. All this laughing is surely going to disturb him, I thought I told you to keep quiet.” 

“Screhehehew off!” Dean rebutted and a few particularly bright giggles slipped out. Cas was almost sad he was making Dean hold them and their brethren in. 

Oh well - another time, then.

And, yeah, he had a feeling there was going to be a next time - if the reactions, no matter how held back and muted, were anything to go by. Dean was just covering his face with his hands, attempting to stuff his fist in his mouth while his eyes were pricked with tears of mirth. 

He looked beautiful, not particularly more so than usual, just...different. Lighter. It was the kind of beauty that left you feeling like some of it rubbed off on you. Castiel decided he liked Dean like this more than he thought he did. The hunter never failed to surprise him.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he started hearing wheezing. He lightened his fingers, drawing light circles around his sides, waiting for Dean’s laughter to taper off. Once his held-back cackles died out into heavy breaths mixed with light happy giggles, he allowed his sadist mask to fall for a moment.

“Are you doing okay? Do you need me to stop?” He asked.

Dean shook his head, “I juhuhust need to cahatch my breath,” he scrubbed  a hand down his face, wiping the small line of sweat that accumulated above his brow.

The angel nodded, before pressing a hand to Dean’s chest, while he kept the other at his side, still tracing teasing circles. A wave of grace entered his lungs, filling them up with air and removing the residing ache. “Better?”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly. He forgot about angel mojo. But as he took a few breaths, he nodded, feeling rejuvenated.

“Good, because I’m not finished with you yet.” Cas’s sadistic smirk reappeared.

Deans nervous giggles returned before they jumped back to mirth filled laughter. There was skittering along his inner thighs, but he could feel Cas’s one hand on his chest and the other still teasing at his side.

“C-Cahahahas, what eheheheis thahahat?” He tried kicking his legs out, but the sensation never relented.

“Giving you your strength back made me realize, I have been neglecting to use the best way to torture you. My grace.” Cas said matter of factly.

“Th-that ihihis so unfahahahair Ah- Cas, nohoho!” Dean clapped a hand over his mouth trying to stifle his laughter, as he felt the invisible force rise up, forcing its way into every groove of his hips. 

He felt it scrape along the edges of bone, and vibrate into the dips where his abdomen met leg. He could almost feel it under his skin and even in his bones.  In a feeble attempt to muffle the screaming cackles that were being forced from his throat, he grabbed whatever was closest to him- which just so happened to be Castiel’s trench coat covered arm, still lazily resting on his chest- and stuffed it into his mouth. He bit down, thankfully on just fabric, and screamed into his angels forearm.

Dean lasted a total of 37 seconds before succumbing to silent laughter. Cas continued the onslaught on his hips for a few more, before finally moving his grace up his sides, and rolled off the hunter. He curled around himself, giggling like a mad man.

As the grace slowly subsided from Deans waist, so did his laughter, until the only sound filling the room was his panting. Once his breathing calmed, Cas stood up, offering a hand to help the other onto wobbly legs and walking him to the library couch. 

Once close enough to the cushions, he let his body tumble, laying on his back, eyes closed. He threw an arm over his head, a small smile still noticeable. Cas took a moment to take in the sight. He was in awe. He didn’t recognise the Dean Winchester splayed out in front of him. The angry, pissed off, World on his shoulders hunter had been replaced with a soft, happy, free human being. They still had another apocalypse to derail, that they knew nothing about yet. But it would still be there tomorrow.

Cas grabbed the lore book he was reading before Dean had walked in, and lifted the tired man’s head, sneaking himself underneath. They stayed like that the rest of the day, Cas’s hands tethered in his hunters hair while Dean took a well deserved break from the fight.

~~~

Four years and three apocalypses later, when Chuck became the most recent bad guy in a long list of bad guys, and brought up Death’s previous pastimes, Dean and Cas shared a look. A knowing look. A shared inside joke between the two of them. Perhaps Chuck brought it up to let them know he knew. Or maybe he didn’t know, and was just bantering about Billie.

Either way, if it weren’t for Death, Dean and Cas would have never gotten together. Maybe he really did know what the hell he was talking about all those years ago.

And as for Sam, well. Dean never really was as quiet as he thought. Sam just learned when to leave the bunker before being subject to listening to them again.

[jincherie]

potion 609 | pjm & ksj

- COMMISSION -

✩ — pairing: seokjinx reader x jimin ✩ — genre: poly, magic au, roadtrip au, mutual pining, borderline crack, fluff, slight angst ✩ — words: 10.8k ✩ — rating: sfw ✩ — warnings: *sobbing* they’re so stupid man, they’re so stupid ✩ — notes: this took a bit longer than expected, if only because like everyone else in the world rn I’ve had a few unprecedented issues in my life pop up to deal with. I hope u all are well and if you’re not, that you get better soon. please enjoy this mess! <3

A four day roadtrip into the depths of the mountains with the two best friends you’ve recently realised you have feelings for is probably the last thing you need. It becomes a reality, though, when Seokjin and Jimin bring home a cursed doll that reacts with the potion you were making and lands you all cursed yourselves; both forced to say whatever comes to mind and bound to each other. Now stuck in close quarters with your two idiot best friends who for the life of them can not shut up for the foreseeable future while you venture to fix this, you’re beginning to doubt whether you or your heart can survive this trip in one piece.

masterlist | — posted; 24.03.2020

“Oh my god… y/n. What have you done?”

You glare, hard, at the male standing dead in the middle of the room, currently in the midst of being accosted by two idiots you happen to call your best friends. If you hadn’t thought quick and chugged a silencing potion before frantically texting Namjoon, you have no doubt you’d be stuck in the same situation as them right now.

“Please, please, please help us!” Jimin is clutching your professor by the arms, shaking him like a madman. Some of the goo coating his soiled silken grey shirt flings onto your professor’s, and you watch him physically recoil. “I can’t live like this! Jin might be hot but he’s so incredibly stupid and if I have to listen to his unfiltered thoughts all day every day I’m going to lose my [quack]ing mind!”

As much as it pains you, you’re so stressed and exasperated right now that you can’t even laugh at the fact that your professor has spent all of two minutes in the room and already has cast one of his stupid censoring spells on the two of them.

“Excuse me?” Seokjin sounds, smacking Jimin on the arm. “You think I’m hot? Why don’t you tell me more often!! You know I like hearing it! You’re so stingy, honestly. No wonder y/n likes me more.”

At Seokjin’s unwitting confirmation of Jimin’s words, the shorter male turns a look of absolute plea to your professor, grip tightening. The man in his hold then turns to you, looking an odd cross between bewildered and annoyed. Before he says anything more, the two idiots continuing to bicker beyond him, a voice sounds from behind you.

“She can’t talk,” Namjoon supplies smoothly, stepping to your side and slinging his arm around your shoulder with a dimpled grin. “The potion seems to have had the opposite effect on her, oddly enough.”

You resist the urge to spin and pin the male with an impressed look at how smoothly he just pulled that out of his ass, especially after performing a strong silencing spell on you barely a minute ago.

“Well, these two can definitely talk,” your professor says, and the deadpan tone and expression coming from him, someone who is usually so mild mannered and sweet, almost makes you choke on your own spit. Even if you wanted to laugh, Namjoon’s silencing spells are no joke and you can’t let out even the slightest of chuckles.  “It seems that not only has the potion bound all those covered in its contents—the three of them—but these two in particular… It seems as though their filters are completely gone, and they’re just saying everything that comes to the top of their head. And I mean— everything.”

Namjoon makes a pitying sound, giving your professor an empathetic look. Meanwhile you are standing and contemplating whether it would be a better option to throw yourself off the nearest bridge rather than stay and deal with this mess. It’s tempting, you admit, but one thing stands in the way…

You look down, catching sight of the translucent, glowing cord of runes and sigils that winds around your wrist, trailing off in the direction of the bickering duo a few metres away. A wave of something like exasperation floods through you, tinged with hints of self-pity.

Of course one of the side effects of this stupid cursed mishap is that you physically cannot stray more than 3 metres from dumb and dumber over there. Like, at all. You’ve tried. It was a massive effort just to get them close enough to the doorway that you could go into the other room with Namjoon so he could give you a hit of magical shut-up juice.

“Please help us!” Jimin whines, louder than before. He is successful in capturing the attention of the entire room, and he stomps his foot. “Professor Lim, please! Have I not been the best student you could ever ask for? Helping in your shop and bringing you cursed items from across the globe?”

Once he starts, he doesn’t stop—which isn’t all that different from usual except this time it’s like you’ve twisted a tap on and the handle has then broken, leaving the pipe jetting out water with no way of cutting it off. You think you’re really going to go insane if you’re stuck with these two any longer.

“I can’t help you!” your professor bursts, tearing himself away from your friends’ pleading grips. “Look, I have no idea what on earth y/n was attempting to cook up in there that made it react with the cursed doll like that—”

I was EXPERIMENTING, you defend silently, thankfully unable to voice your thoughts.

“—but it’s out of my jurisdiction, boys. Judging from the runes on those bindings this is some high level magic, and kind of, uh… niche. I only know barely a handful of people that might be able to help.”

“Who?” Jimin and Seokjin demand at the same time, eyes wide with hope—for all of Seokjin’s rebuttals to Jimin’s earlier whining, he doesn’t seem too overjoyed at the prospect of being stuck with him for longer than necessary either.

At the question, your professor gives a somewhat sheepish laugh. “Uh, well… the closest is a witch I knew back in my university student days. She’s not that far geographically, but she lives at the top of one of the mountains in Dusk Dew Valley and the magic of the forest means you can’t zap in or out so… you’re gonna have to drive.”

“That’s not so bad,” Seokjin comments, at the same time that Jimin squints, suspicious.

“How long?”

Your professor clears his throat, averting his gaze—personally, you’re on the edge of your metaphorical seat. “Uh,” he begins awkwardly, like he wishes he didn’t have to say what he is going to next. “Probably about… four? …five days?”

Aside from the background sound of cursed goo sliding down the walls and plopping onto the floor in fat, glutinous globs, the room is silent. Your gaze goes from your wrist, to the ugly doll on the floor a few feet away (where it landed in the midst of the blast—they hadn’t gotten very far into the room before things went south) and then to Jimin and Seokjin, who have been your closest friends for the better part of your adult life and with whom normally you wouldn’t mind spending such an amount of time with.

Except, thing’s aren’t really as they are normally, and lately you’ve started noticing some feelings rising within you that are getting harder and harder to squash. You don’t think you can make it out of this in once piece, and a look to the side reveals Namjoon’s doubtful expression that tells you he thinks the same.

 [ DAY ONE ]

The trip, for the few hours you’ve been on it so far, has proved to be taxing in more ways than one. Case in point:

“Namjoon! Stop playing that hippy garbage and show us your mixtape! What are you, a coward?”

Next to you, you can sense Namjoon’s hands tighten on the wheel—you might have fought tooth and nail to get shotgun but he’d been coerced somewhat unwillingly into the driving seat. He has a provisional licence and still has some supervised driving hours to complete, so it was with a pout that he climbed in next to you earlier today and has been behind the wheel ever since.

The reason for the twitch that’s developed under his eye and the white tint of his knuckles as they grip the wheel lies in the seats behind you—Seokjin and Jimin have been running their mouths for the better part of the last few hours and don’t seem like they’re going to be shutting up anytime soon. To be fair, at the start they were just talking about normal things, but then one of them said something somewhat antagonistic about an hour and a half in and they haven’t stopped bickering since.

In the seat behind them, Jungkook and Taehyung – two friends who had somehow been roped into this abridged roadtrip— sit with looks of pure, unadulterated regret on their faces.

“This is my mixtape,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth, Seokjin shrinking back into his seat in response with a chastised look. It takes all of a split second for Jimin to snicker, no chance for sweet, sweet silence to bloom before they’re back to bickering once more. You almost give in to the urge to slam your head against the dash again. Almost.

“Why couldn’t they both have turned out like y/n?” you hear Jungkook question in something that must be his attempt at a whisper (yet that still reaches you at the front of the car). Taehyung sighs, like the weight of the world has suddenly rested itself on his shoulders and he now finds himself with the task of carrying it for the rest of eternity.

“They’re too stupid,” Taehyung answers, somewhat cryptically. By some show of mercy from up above, neither of the two idiots in question hear him insulting them.

You squint at Taehyung through the rear-view mirror, wondering if he’s onto you. He doesn’t seem like it, what with him now playing ‘I Spy’ with Jungkook and cheating with his magic, but then again you know Taehyung to be awfully perceptive when he needs to be. You’ll have to ask Namjoon to make sure he doesn’t blab to dumb and dumber behind you or you’ll never hear the end of it.

“You know what? This wouldn’t have happened if y/n didn’t pick you up like a stray dog in her second year!”

Ears alert at the sound of your name, you turn your head to nail the two with a suspicious look while Namjoon keeps his eyes pointedly to the front and on the road carving a path between thick rainforest greenery. Seokjin is sputtering at what Jimin just announced, eyes whipping between you and Jimin incredulously. He has the exact look on his face that a child does right before they tattle on their older sibling to their mother for being mean to them.

It really is like raising two kids though, honestly, you lament. You should see if you can get family benefits from the government.

“Excuse me? If anything, I picked you two up like strays. You should have seen her that first day she came up to me, all pleading with these puppy dog eyes, asking if I would be her mentor. She was so pitiful I couldn’t bear to say no.”

WHAT?! That’s not how that went! You glare at Seokjin for spewing mistruths, reaching for something to throw at him in the front cup holder. He has a look of regret on his face, like what he said was never meant to enter the air, but it’s out now and you’re gonna pelt something at him for it. It’s their fault they’re cursed to say whatever the hell comes to mind, anyway. It’s just unfortunate that 80% of the things that come to Seokjin’s mind happen to be things that shouldn’t be said out loud. You’d say the same for Jimin but his percentage is a little lower, more like 50-60%, so you’ll let him live for now.

“Oh my gods that is ENOUGH! Both of you shut up! Please! Or so help me Hecate I will turn this car around and dump you two on the side of the road to walk!”

Surprisingly, Namjoon’s reprimand works and the two males snap their mouths shut, eyes wide. You haven’t forgiven Seokjin for his sleight, so you make sure he sees you glaring before you turn back around. You can hear him gulp.

Before you met Seokjin in one of your classes at the academy, it had always been you and Jimin. The two of you grew up in the same gated community in the same cul-de-sac—you with your aunt, and him with his incredibly rich and highly esteemed parents. You always saw his parents before you ever saw him, and (somewhat unfairly) you judged from their stony expressions and default looks of disdain that he’d be just like them—cold, stuck up and probably someone who would bully you for not living in a home with actual parents. It was a bit of a sore spot for you back then.

To your complete and utter surprise, everything you assumed of him was turned on its head when he found you at the park one day, angry-crying in embarrassment due to the nasty fall you’d just had. Some other kids had dared you to do a trick on the swings that required some air magic, but you’re not very strong in that area. Yet, like the stupid, proud child you were, you attempted it anyway and ended up scraping your knees raw at the edge of the playground. Not wanting to get in trouble and terrified at the sight of blood, they’d fled and left you there gritting your teeth and trying not to wail in pain. You were in the middle of plotting your revenge on each and every one of them while pressing a hand to your knees when a voice had sounded from beside you and scared the living daylights out of you.

“Hey… are you okay?”

Honestly, he had been so sweet and kind that you didn’t even realise straight away that he was the same child that lived in the house across from yours. From the beginning you couldn’t stay strong against his big, puppy eyes, and you ended up letting him help when he offered. You always were a bit better with plants and herbs, trees flowering when you tickled them and dandelions dancing around you in glee as you passed through meadows on the way to school. That didn’t help much in the area of healing, though.

Jimin, you were surprised to learn, actually was quite adept at healing magic, despite his affinity being for water—or maybe that’s part of the reason why. He’d wiped the tears on your cheeks and pressed them to your knees with small, careful hands—they’d glowed before your eyes and a tingle and a tickle later, they were completely scuff free—smoother than they had been when you were a baby, you remember marvelling in awe.

That moment then, you’ve concluded many times, was the moment you first started to like Park Jimin.

All through high school, you liked him. Sometimes painfully so. Eventually, even without the nurturing and watering that comes with requited feelings, that bloomed into something a little too alike love. Right as you entered your undergraduate at the academy, you decided to do yourself a favour and attempted to squash that flower down, to rip it out of your heart. But alas, it was rooted too deep. You were helpless but to continue dealing with those feelings.

That is, until Seokjin came along.

You could say that he was your next infatuation, but it was a little more complicated than that at the time. The way that you came to like him… is a little different.

You might have developed your crush on Jimin instantly as a child, but with Seokjin the feelings built slowly within you for weeks as you sat with him in classes and began to hang out with him outside them. It was the kind of thing that you don’t realise until it smacks you suddenly in the face one day at the most inconvenient time—for you, you realised the feelings that had blossomed within you one afternoon at an ice cream parlour after watching Seokjin shove the entire dessert into his mouth on a dare, ending up looking like a chipmunk with crushed waffle cone threatening to escape the seal of his lips every time he laughed. It was gross as hell and you’d never been more stupidly attracted to him in your life.

Seokjin eventually was absorbed into your little friend circle, and that’s how it has been for the past two years. The two of them bicker often, but it’s usually playful and it’s just the type of dynamic they happened to fall into. You’re growing a little concerned now though, because it feels like these arguments are slowly getting more and more serious now that they don’t have the ability to exercise their filter.

Frowning to yourself in thought, you turn your gaze out the window and try not to think about it too hard. This roadtrip will be over before you know it! Surely!

— X—

 “JIMIN! YOU ALMOST SET MY PANTS ON FIRE! STOP, Y—OH my god you ACTUALLY DID! JIMIN!”

Chaos.

That’s what has overtaken your small little roadside camp. As it grew dark and Namjoon grew tired after driving all day, all of you had made the unanimous decision to stop for the night and set up camp. It was part of the reason Taehyung and Jungkook had agreed to come—they’re always down for an adventure and they’d never been into these mountains.

Yoongi and Hoseok, two other friends that ended up joining your troupe as an extension of Seokjin, had only agreed to come along because they are, in fact, huge plant nerds—and this forest is full of magical flora that Hoseok went absolutely starry-eyed at the mention of. They brought their own car and hence didn’t have to deal with the vexing nature of the journey in the company of Seokjin and Jimin, but they were quickly enlightened once you all stopped to set up camp.

Hoseok is the one that screamed, and considering the flames currently licking the dark material of his slacks, you think he’s well within his rights. A part of you is worried you’re about to be set alight as well, but the rest of you is catching up with what you just saw.

Jimin’s magical affinity, as you’ve known ever since you were kids, is for water. Seokjin’s, as you found out quickly after meeting him in college because he likes to show off, is for heat, and combustion. Put plainly, his affinity is fire.

And yet, when Jimin went to magically pull the water out of Hoseok’s pants after Jungkook spilled the ramen pot on him, it hadn’t exactly gone as anyone expected. For one, Jimin’s hands had glowed pink instead of blue, and instead of seeing water seep out of Hoseok’s pant leg, the entire camp watched as a spark formed from Jimin’s fingertips and went flying towards it.

Long story short; Hoseok’s pants are now on fire and Jimin is freaking out.

The campers that aren’t currently affected (read: everyone but Hoseok and Jimin) are instead almost wetting themselves in laughter at the situation.

“If this is a joke it isn’t funny!” Jimin exclaims, waving his hand in the air. You don’t know whether to focus on him or on Hoseok leaping out of his pants behind him and throwing them on the ground to stomp the flames out. Both are funny, especially when Jimin’s frantic waving doesn’t conjure water as he desired but instead more sparks.

“JIMIN NO!”

The rest of the camp pauses their laughter and scrambles in alarm to dodge the sparks falling, diving out of chairs and rolling out of the way in their desperation—well, everyone but Seokjin, who is currently laughing so hard his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s rolling on the ground in a different way. You make a face of disdain—you could have chosen anyone in the world to befriend and subsequently fall in love with, and you chose these two? You’re a little disappointed in yourself.

“I can’t believe it!” Seokjin is howling, cradling his stomach as he curls on the ground. You wince at the leaves currently tangling in his hair. “Are you telling me you didn’t—didn’t know our powers swapped? Oh my gods, Jimin—”

Your gaze whips to the shorter male, who looks like the visual definition of both unimpressed and murderous. “Are you saying you knew? And you didn’t tell me! You ass—”

A sense of resignation settles within you as you anticipate another fight on the horizon. Their bickering has only worsened through the day, and at this point you’re not above physically gagging them. You brought spare socks, babey.

“Of course I knew! I sneezed in the bathroom earlier and had my ass suddenly embraced in cold water. Are you telling me you didn’t notice when we were drinking juice boxes before and the straws kept melting in your hands?”

Well, everything you’re hearing is news to you—you had no idea before this incident that their powers had been mixed up as well as everything else. They are masters of their own affinity, but have no experience whatsoever with the other’s, so you’re anticipating (regretfully) a lot more incidents like this.

At first Jimin’s face is contorted in something like sympathy and disgust, but that quickly shifts into embarrassment—the tips of his ears join his cheeks in flushing pink.

“No, I thought I was just sitting too close to the fire!” he retorts, pointing a finger at the older male. “I never use fire for anything, how was I supposed to know?!”

Seokjin opens his big mouth to fire something back, but is thankfully stopped in his tracks by Yoongi cramming a pizza slice in there. Seokjin immediately starts chewing like the action triggered some evolutionary reflex, like when you put a finger in a baby’s hand and they grip on instinct.

“Can you both shut up?” he grouches, only bold enough to send Jimin a glare since Seokjin is older than him; it doesn’t stop him from running his mouth at him, though. “I can and I will mix something up to knock you out. Hell, I’ll even get y/n to help—I hear her potion is part of what landed you in this mess.”

You were not expecting to be dragged through the dirt at the end of that. You send the male a glare, flipping him the bird before stomping off to go get some of the desserts from the car. He’s lucky you already silenced yourself or you’d be ripping him a new one by now.

Stupid! Stupid boys! All men do is talk, eat hot pizza and LIE!

Thankfully, you have time to cool off before dinner is over, the atmosphere mollifying now that Jimin and Seokjin’s lives have been threatened and their fear of god (or rather, fear of one Min Yoongi) has rendered them silent once more. You almost forget they were even bickering earlier until it comes time to retire for the night and tents have to be allocated.

Of course, after the day and dinner you’d all just had, it was decided unanimously by all those not currently afflicted by a curse that you, Seokjin and Jimin should share a tent. The others happily retreated to the two other tents set up by the cars, and before you could even smack someone in protest they were gone.

Ten minutes and your entire nightly routine later finds you laying on a king-sized blow-up mattress, squished between your two best friends with the blanket up to your chin. Surprisingly, despite the bickering that occurred when choosing tents, they’re silent now—but not asleep. The occasional sigh gives them away. It’s dark, but the moonlight filtering in through the material of the tent allows you to see the planes of their faces a little more clearly. Both are frowning slightly, Jimin staring at the ceiling and Seokjin looking at the runes over his wrist.

You want to sleep, but the air is heavy with the weight of something yet to be said.

“We’re… sorry, y/n.”

You turn to Seokjin in surprise, eyes taking a moment to adjust to his profile. He’s avoiding your gaze; you feel Jimin’s head turning to face the older male as well. Seokjin sighs, closing his eyes and carding a hand through his charcoal-coloured hair. 

“This is our fault,” he continues, resting his hands atop the blanket, over his stomach.

“Hyung,” Jimin voices, tone cautioning. It piques your interest and you file it away for later.

Seokjin turns his head, looking at Jimin for a long moment before turning it further and looking at you. You can’t help but wonder what he just said to the other with his gaze, but for now you’re taken with the soft glisten of his eyes as they meet your own.

“Sorry,” he repeats, clamping his mouth shut after. You squint at him for a long few seconds before releasing him from your gaze and shrugging.

You’re forgiven, I guess. Especially since this is technically also my fault, even though I didn’t know that stupid charmed perfumes could react with cursed dolls… where on earth did they even get that thing?

At your shrug, Seokjin grins brightly. “Great, now that you’ve forgiven us, I have a favour to ask.”

You’re not left wondering what he means for long, because in the next second he rolls over, turning his back to you.

“Can you spoon me? I wanna be the little spoon tonight. Makes me feel safe.”

Letting out the biggest sigh you think you ever have in your life, you roll your eyes but oblige his request and shuffle over to slip your arms around his waist and hug him from behind. He can’t see your smile, so you don’t have to worry about saving face.

“Seriously? Right in front of my salad…”

You reach behind to smack Jimin, and he laughs, quickly scooting over to follow your suit and slip his arms around your waist, curving his body around yours. It makes your heart race, and for the sake of your sanity you pretend that you don’t have one and so don’t have to deal with its traitorous reactions. Heart, what heart? It’s Donut Tuesdays that keeps your blood pumping, babey!

Now that the air is clear and warmth seeps between the three of you, runes around your wrists glowing brighter than before, it doesn’t take long at all before the three of you pass out, slipping eagerly into the tender embrace of sleep.

 [DAY THREE]

Needless to say, the tranquillity of that night did not last very long at all.

You’re on the third day of the trip, with at least one more expected to go, and for the duration of today’s drive, the entire car has been in a foul mood. Last you saw Yoongi and Hoseok, they were grumpy too, but you don’t doubt now that they’re away from the bickering duo causing you all such stress that they’re in much better spirits. Sadly, the same can’t be said for you, or anyone else stuck in the same car as you.

Today’s driver is Taehyung, and you swear you’ve seen the thought to drive the car into a ditch flick through his gaze more than twice in the past few minutes alone. It alarmed you at first, but now you’d welcome it, to be honest. Anything to escape your current reality.

You already knew that Seokjin and Jimin enjoyed talking and hearing their own voices, but never before have you been faced with such a long, extended situation where they just do not shut up. It’s wearing you down, you have to admit. As Namjoon’s silencing spell wore off last night, you almost blew your cover and tore into them for it. They just can’t help themselves! They’re lucky that your priority is making sure that your thoughts aren’t revealed to the air, so much that you forwent killing them in favour of topping up the silencing spell.

There are some things that have been lurking on the tip of your tongue in the past few months that you just cannot risk saying aloud. You’d rather lose said tongue.

Everyone has long since given up attempting to shut your two idiot friends up, and so your suffering continues, unabated.

“You wanna bring up all the times someone has ditched for selfish reasons? Alright, how about we talk about all the times you skipped movie night because you ‘had a pop quiz to study for’, when really you were out sleeping with half the students in your Aquatic Magics class!”

While you might have been expecting something petty to come out of Seokjin’s mouth, you most definitely weren’t expecting that. Your head whips around at lightning speed, wide eyes locking onto Jimin who looks like he’s just been electrocuted. He sputters, eyes flicking from you to Seokjin rapidly.

Lately, in the past few months, Jimin has been calling in rainchecks for your weekly movie nights. Usually the three of you relish in the opportunity to sit back and relax, and none of you were inclined to skip, but Jimin had told the both of you that the professor he’d gotten this semester is particularly fond of giving weighted pop quizzes. Now that you’re thinking about it, he’d actually skipped more times than he’d attended this this year so far...

You hadn’t even suspected anything before now, but meeting his gaze reveals all you need to know that he’s guilty of what Seokjin said. Immediately, you’re incensed.

You selfish—

He’s lucky you’re magically silenced right now, but Seokjin can still talk, and that seems to be a problem for him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies, scowling at Seokjin.

“I saw you on my cousin’s tinder and she told me all about what you’ve been up to the past few months! Said you’ve made your way through almost all of her friends at this point, and always on a Friday—our movie day!” Your mouth drops open as Seokjin flings Jimin’s dirty laundry into the air for all to see. Jungkook lets out a hiss through his teeth, wincing.

“My god, hyung, you’re a whore—”

“I would have said fuckboy,” Namjoon interrupts the youngest to supply helpfully, keen to exact some form of revenge on Jimin for the suffering he’s had to endure in the past three days.

“I am NOT a fuckboy!” Jimin squawks and his face goes so red you’re sure he’s going to combust. “I’m not just some—I have feelings! I’m capable of having feelings for someone!”

“Yeah, you’re really proving it with all your escapades you ditcher,” Seokjin folds his arms, scowling at the younger. Nice! You applaud him in your head. “Good to know your friends mean so much to you that you’ll drop them at a moment’s notice for a quick fuck!”

“How can you say that when you know that just like you, I like—” As quick and heated as he starts off, Jimin suddenly cuts off, snapping his mouth shut with wide eyes.

The car is silent, even Taehyung’s ears perked in their direction. Confusion takes up most of your brain space—had he just been about to reveal that he likes someone? At once, your heart skips a beat and squeezes painfully. Do you want to know who it is, when you also know it can’t be you?

Because why would Jimin blow off nights he is meant to spend with you to play around with other girls, if you were the one he liked?

Trying to keep your face schooled, you turn back to the front, sinking into your seat slightly and missing the way Taehyung’s gaze flicks to you as you do so. You wish that things had stayed as they were, when you’d moved on from Jimin and you only had Seokjin on the brain. It wasn’t that long ago, but unfortunately for you, it’s no longer the case. Your brain and heart have never been so overloaded.

Evidently feelings for Jimin aren’t like the chicken pox, and you can catch them again.

Even stewing in your own thoughts as you are, the prolonged silence confuses you when you notice it a few moments later. Unable to help yourself, your eyes flick up to the rear-view mirror, catching sight of the way Seokjin is sitting, scowl from earlier replaced by a look of deep thought, his brows furrowed and arms still crossed. For a minute you puzzle over why exactly he is being quiet when Jimin was the one under fire, replaying the events of the conversation over in your head once more. You freeze when it strikes you, your own face scrunching in thought.

"How can you say that when you know that just like you, I like..."

For a second you sit in shock, a slight cut of betrayal skirting around your heart. Are they serious-- both your best friends have feelings for someone and have told each other, but not you? Disregarding your own refusal to admit your crush/es to them (mainly because they are the crush/es in question), you don't think you've ever felt so betrayed in your life. If your crush wasn't incriminating to admit out loud, they would be the first to know! You focus on the feelings resulting from their treachery that are drifting over you so that the sting of knowing that they like someone else is a little less noticeable.

This trip is a disaster and as soon as you can speak again you're filing for friend divorce.

x--x--x

Oddly enough, the rest of the day is spent in almost silence. Apparently that last little argument finally taught the two of them a lesson, because they haven't uttered a word since. You caught them glaring at each other once or twice, but apart from that there was a distinct lack of JinMin bickering. Taehyung's mood was quick to turn around after that, and he made sure to turn the music up so that if they started talking again he wouldn't hear it. Jungkook and Namjoon seemed relieved that they could finally have their own conversation, and you... well, you spent the rest of the day's trip staring out the window and blasting your own music, like a moody teenager.

Needless to say, you're in a bit of a funk. One might even say you're upset.

You can't believe them! How much else do they withhold from you and only tell each other? You feel like you don't even know them right now, and do your best to make sure they know it by glaring at them every time they meet your eyes. Because of this, setting up tonight's camp teeters on being a slightly uncomfortable affair.

You're so annoyed (and hurt, but you're not acknowledging that emotion yet) that when dessert is brought out, you even go so far as to take the last piece of their favourite one. The looks on their faces as you cram the entire strawberry crepe cake slice into your mouth in one go is almost funny enough to redeem them, but by this point you've had all afternoon to stew and you're not going to be having a change of heart any time soon.

By the time it's late enough for everyone to be retiring, you've pointedly ignored the two males enough that when you look up and don't see them anywhere, you have no idea where they've gone. Apparently your confusion is in plain view for the rest of the group to see, because Namjoon snorts. When you look over, he speaks.

"They went to grab their toiletries from the car," he informs you, rocking dangerously on the camping chair he's currently seated in. "I heard one of them call the other a tart on the way over though, so they're probably fighting again by now."

You huff, wondering if they've even noticed you're upset with them. Well, it's not like they'd said anything to you-- then again, that is precisely the problem. But still, they're stupid and you don't know if they've connected the dots yet. It's not that hard though!

...Are you overreacting?

It's possible. Learning that they like someone, and intuitively knowing it isn't you, well... it's done a bit of a number on your ego and your heart, and maybe you're overcompensating. Not for the first time, you wonder if there is a potion that can numb your heart and cancel out feelings. That would be great!

"You're wondering if they've noticed you're mad at them?" Taehyung's low register surprises you when it sounds next to you-- you didn't realise that he'd moved seats. Given your attention, he continues, "They most definitely have. Although, they're kind of stupid, so they can't agree on why you are."

"To their credit, they both realise it's something they've said." Namjoon drags a hand down his face with a sigh, "Except the thing is, they've both said so damn much."

You frown, tilting your head in thought; your eyes end up staring unfocused at Jungkook where he sits across the fire, poking his finger in the dirt and making flowers sprout. Your best friends? Having some degree of self-awareness? It seems almost too good to be true.

Yoongi and Hoseok have plodded off in the midst of your zoning out, apparently going to look for a certain mushroom that has unique magical properties and happens to grow near here. Gradually, the other three sitting with you disperse and you use a minor spell to reduce the flames of the campfire to a smolder. You figure it's been long enough that Seokjin and Jimin are probably back at your tent by now (you were really zoned out just then, so you have no idea if they went past or not), so you head to the car to grab your own toiletries and go about your nightly routine. Just because you're on the road doesn't mean you can afford to neglect your skin.

Considering you expected silence and an empty space when you rounded Yoongi's car and turned towards the van, you're more than a little surprised to both see and hear people. Immediately, you halt, expecting them to turn and notice you, but they’re so wrapped up in their own conversation that they have no idea you’re there. It only takes you a moment longer to realise it’s Jimin and Seokjin, who apparently haven’t succeeded in actually getting their toiletries and have instead been talking this whole time. 

Well, you don’t know if you can call it just talking.

They’re arguing again, you can tell that clearly, but for once you have no idea what is being said. What you can catch of their voices is hushed and somewhat vexed, emphasised by the occasional arm movement and finger jab. You’re tempted to step closer just so you can hear what they’re discussing so angrily, but don’t even get a chance to properly consider it before Seokjin is snapping loudly and answering your unspoken question.

“You know what we read! We both read it! So the fact you almost said in the car—”

“But I didn’t say anything,” Jimin snaps back, sounding crankier than you’ve ever heard him. His eyes are dark and he leans forward as he speaks, tense. “But you know what, if it bothers you so much, and you want it to be you, then why don’t you say something? Why haven’t you said anything before now? Nothing is stopping you!”

Seokjin’s response is lower than you can catch, heated if the tension in his shoulders is anything to go by. What Jimin says next is also spoken lower than you can hear, but Seokjin does you a favour in the next second when his voice raises in outrage.

“--you wanna know why? Huh? Maybe it’s because I realised lately that it’s not just that—  I like you!”

You freeze, an ellipsis materialising in your brain in the stead of any coherent thought. The world around you and the conversation in front of you doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

 Jimin blinks, mouth open in preparation to throw back a retort. He shuts it, something passing through his gaze that you can’t quite discern. He speaks a moment later, but you can only catch bits and pieces of it. “Both…? Seokjin… stupid idiot…”

The next bit comes clear as day to your ears, though.

“I like you too…”

All at once, the situation comes crashing back up to speed in your brain and everything catches up with you. Your head doesn’t really know how to process it but your heart is already ahead and shrinking in your chest.

Are you fucking kidding me.

You don’t know what comes over you, but from what you can discern it seems to be a cocktail of incredulousness, anger, and heartbreak. Ruining your cover, you stomp over to the van and march right between them to the boot, yanking it open more aggressively than you need to. The two of them exclaim in surprise to see you, but are left reeling as you simply grab your toiletries bag and turn on your heel before stomping away, ignoring them completely.

You cannot believe the cruel twist that fate has just slapped you across the face with, like a massive silicone dildo giving you a black eye. Earlier today you learned that your two best friends — who you’ve recently realised you have feelings for— actually have feelings for someone. And alright, that shit hurted, but you could have seen yourself getting over it some time in the future.

But to find out that that person they like is each other and you’ve essentially been third wheeling for the entirety of your friendship? Call you a drama queen but you have such a mix of emotions in you that you almost feel nauseous. For the sake of simplicity, you decide to label that concoction anger and wash your hands of it.

Storming back through the camp to your tent, you ignore a bewildered Yoongi and Hoseok emerging from the treeline and instead try not to rip your toiletries bag with the harsh grip your fingers have on it. Throwing it into the tent that you’d left open after setting up, you follow it inside and then turn to rip the zip down. You’re tempted to simply leave it at that before you decide that’s not enough and you hold out your hand, charming it  so that it wont open for anyone but you. 

Satisfied with your last spiteful act of the night, you rush through your routine and head to bed, blood boiling all through the night until you wake up the next day.

x — x — x

“Did you kick Seokjin and Jimin out of your tent last night?”

Not lucid enough to have noticed him standing next to you by the van as you munch on your cereal with half-closed eyes, you jump in fright when Namjoon’s voice crosses your ears. 

And what if I did? You have the impulse to voice that thought, but the slight itch in your throat reminds you that, for the time being, you’re still silenced. At your own behest, sure, but not being able to quip sassy retorts back at people has been steadily getting at you these past four days. 

Instead, you simply shrug, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Trick question! We know you did because they came to our tents last night pleading for us to let them in because they couldn’t get into theirs.”

Well, you suppose that considering the three of you are bound and can’t be more than a few metres apart, it’s lucky that their tents were so close to your own. You frown at what he says though, squinting at Namjoon. Your point?

As though he’s perfectly in tune with your thoughts, he readily elaborates. “So what did they do to warrant that? I didn’t realise you were that upset with them.”

His words make you remember what you’ve been trying not to think about: last night. 

Your mother always told you that sleeping on it would fix almost everything, but you’d woken up in just as bad of a mood as you’d gone to bed with. It’s petty of you to be angry at them for liking each other, just because it’s not you, but there is also the fact that they’re your best friends and hadn’t told you a single thing. The betrayal of it all is one of the things that stings most, as dramatic as that is. Whatever, you’re allowed to be upset and you’re going to exercise that right. 

Namjoon doesn’t get an answer because you scull the remainder of your milk and cereal in one go (leaving him in something akin to a state of shock) and promptly walk off to get dressed. 

When everyone piles back into their respective cars today, it’s with a lighter air than the days previous. This is because, as Jungkook had announced excitedly before you all departed, you should be arriving at the witch’s home in a little over a few hours. Honestly, you’re ecstatic, because you don’t think you can handle being around Seokjin and Jimin for a while after this. 

In your bid to think about literally anything but the two males boring holes into the back of your head with their eyes, you instead allow yourself to daydream about how things are going to be in the next few hours. The witch is probably old and nice, wise and knowledgeable. She’ll get it, and she’ll probably support you if you call the boys names. Sisterhood of witches!

x — x 

Hours later and you’re standing outside of an industrial concrete home, not too dissimilar to the Cullens’ house from Twilight, except it’s overrun by plants and vines that curl and flower across the mass of grey in gorgeous patterns. The door has just slammed in front of you after Namjoon explained who you were and why you were here, and you’re now listening to the sound of many chains and bolts sliding on the other side of the wood.

The witch is nothing like you thought and you feel like your fate has fallen into some questionable hands. 

When the door opens once more, now unrestricted by chains, you’re met with the sight of the woman you’d driven four days to see and plead with. Needless to say, she isn’t what you expected at all— somehow despite the fact that your professor had literally explained what to expect before you left on this little roadtrip.

She stands, somewhat short but still graceful with long inky hair that curls down her back untamed, slipping over her shoulders at the front. Her skin is the kind of bronzed that tells of time spent in the sun and out in the wilds, and the loose clothing hanging from her form is light and breezy looking. Her eyes are dark and sleekly lined for a cat-like effect, lips stained dramatic red in contrast to the rest of her chill get-up.

She’s really out here living her best life, you think in wonder.

“Lim said you’d be coming… I’m Sunmi,” she voices, staring shrewdly at all eight of you one at a time until her gaze passes over you, Jimin, Seokjin and the runes binding your wrists. Her nails tap against the doorframe that she’s braced against as she hums in thought. “...Come in.”

When she turns and moves further into her home, the rest of you hover awkwardly before kicking into gear. Yoongi and Hoseok dismiss themselves, having spotted some ‘exciting’ plants back by the treeline, and so it is just you, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon and those other two you don’t want to think about that are left to follow the witch into the house. 

You follow her as she walks around the whole floor, gathering certain things as she goes. At her request, Namjoon fills her in on exactly what the issue is— he’s apparently a bit intimidated by her keen gaze and grumpy disposition, because he stutters a few times while recounting your situation to her. Taehyung and Jungkook, considering that they’re just along for the ride, spend the walk looking around in awe. Sunmi has a lot of artefacts on display in her home, some with runes you’ve never seen before in your life, not even in textbooks— kind of like the ones on your wrist.

“Alright, you three wait here,” Sunmi stops all of you in what seems to be a sitting room of sorts decorated with soft greens and white, pointing at Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook, and then the lounge. “If I’m going to fix this… curse...I will need only the three of them. It shouldn’t take too long.”

Her words are polite, skirting along the edge of being curt. Obediently, like puppies, they follow her instructions and take a seat with wide eyes. Satisfied, the witch turns to you and the idiots behind you. 

“Come, in here. Be quick about it.”

Hastily, you follow her finger and enter the room situated off to the side, hearing Seokjin and Jimin scramble behind you. What greets you is dark blue walls with stars smattered across them in metallic gold, the carpet plush, dark grey. There is a desk pushed against the wall, and a large table in the middle of the room that is framed by a few plushly upholstered chairs. You get the sudden urge to cough, throat itching slightly, but hold down the urge as best as you can and ignore it for now.

Sunmi closes the door behind her, taking a moment before moving to the table and placing the items in her arms down. She then leans forward, eyes pinning all three of you in place; you hear Seokjin let out something like an ‘eep’ from just behind you, and have to remind yourself that you’re angry at him so you can’t find it cute. 

“Look, I moved all the way out here so I didn’t have to deal with people,” she begins, straightening and crossing her arms. You avoid her gaze, instead focusing on the large window behind her, and then the vase of white and violet blooms in the middle of the table; you wonder if they’re responsible for the sweet, syrupy yet musky scent that accentuates the room. “Let me cut to the chase so that you leave and I can get back to what I was doing sooner.”

Somewhat taken aback by her words, you’re left blinking in surprise while she simply continues, pointing her finger at your wrists and then in the general direction of the boys.

“These runes are specific to a certain deity, one that isn’t often invoked because of how temperamental he is, but one that usually deals with things in the area of love. Specifically, unrequited.”

As she spoke, she started to move around the table, now approaching your little huddle. On instinct you take a few steps back, shifting slightly behind your two friends. You catch a glimpse of their faces as you move, and you’re surprised at how pale and stiff the two of them have suddenly become. Jimin’s silver hair begins to steam slightly, the tips of his ears flushing red.

“Now, usually what people return with after visiting him, is blessings. These, however,” she points to the runes, “Are what happens when one insults him.”

Jimin gulps, and Seokjin swallows before speaking hurriedly, “We didn’t mean to take the doll! We didn’t know it was his…”

Sunmi rolls her eyes, holding her hand out. “Give me the doll.”

You hadn’t even realised it was in Jimin’s hands until he jerked and hastily placed it in her hold. It’s as ugly as ever and you can’t help but glare at it. 

“This isn’t about the doll,” Sunmi says, cocking her hip and appearing the epitome of unimpressed. “The runes reveal that the insult lies within a request for a blessing. You did something wrong, and the doll became a conduit for his retaliation. You must have been desperate to go to him of all love deities, so how on earth did you manage to mess up the simple process of requesting a blessing?”

While you're standing with a blank face, struggling to keep up with all the information being unloaded on you, the two men beside you bow their heads in something like shame. When your brain catches up, you realise with chagrin that she’s saying they went to a temple or shrine of a love deity to ask for a blessing— and bitterly, you connect that it was likely for each other.

“Wh— but we did everything right!” Jimin is the one protesting now, eyes wide and fingers fiddling. “Isn’t this because of y/n’s potion?”

Bastard! You can’t believe he’d try to pin the blame on you! 

You’re beginning to simmer, throat tingling as you swallow angrily, and like he can sense it, Seokjin sends you a nervous look.

“What? This has nothing to do with a potion,” Sunmi scoffs, sending you a somewhat pitying look. You pretend it’s because she’s sympathising with you for being stuck with these two. “All the potion would have done is cover you in goo. This is—” she grabs your wrist suddenly, turning it to observe the runes on the underside before making a noise of realisation. “— this is because you went to a deity that specialises in unrequited love and asked for blessings in love that wasn’t unrequited.”

Sunmi releases your hand and you’re left reeling, quickly realising that they must have asked for blessings in love with each other— which, as you’d overheard last night and are now painfully aware of, is anything but unrequited. Oddly enough, the two boys next to you appear confused.

“No, that can’t be right—” Jimin starts, but Sunmi doesn’t let him finish.

“The runes don’t lie,” she says plainly, moving back to assemble some things before taking something that looks incriminatingly like a bong into her grasp; you don’t even remember her grabbing it on the way here. “They’re like a signature, almost. I know what I’m talking about, baby boy.”

Jimin goes bright red, hair steaming even more, although you can’t tell whether its from anger or embarrassment. Knowing him, probably both.

“Jimin,” Seokjin warns, shooting the younger a look when he opens his mouth to retort; apparently having Seokjin’s magic has made him that much more hotheaded. Seokjin shakes his head and Jimin clenches his jaw with the effort it takes him not to talk.

“Right, well, it seems like the three of you have some things to unpack— it bound you in particular for a reason. I’ll break the curse for you, but I need to drown this doll in some blessed water before I can get started.” Sunmi is already turning on her heel and walking towards the door before she even finishes. “Stay in here and don’t cause trouble.”

And then she leaves, and for some reason the resounding thud of the door swinging closed behind her is like a metaphor sealing your fate.

For the first few seconds after her departure, the room is silent. The two men beside you are frozen, but it doesn’t take long for them to pick up on the waves of anger beginning to emanate from you. They turn, sharing a similar expression of nervousness and slight fear. They look like they’d like more than anything to disappear right now, but of course that isn’t an option, especially when the curse currently afflicting you all means that whatever comes to their brain is immediately blurted into the air.

“Look, y/n, uh… we can explain.” Jimin takes a step forward, holding his hands out as though to placate you. For some reason even just that is quick to irritate you further, and you glare at him. How is he going to explain, you wonder? The witch has pretty much already spelled out everything you need to know about exactly why you’re in this situation. 

They went to the shrine of some obscure love deity to receive blessings on their ‘unrequited’ love — which happened to be requited because the person they were asking for blessings for was each other — and then proceeded to insult the deity and take a doll from the shrine, which the deity then used as a conduit to curse the three of you. You get all that, loud and clear. What you really want to know is why the hell you��got roped into this punishment and forced to experience all this shame and humiliation.

“Look, about the shrine— we didn’t only go for personal reasons! We knew there was a doll there that the professor would be interested in,” Seokjin hurried to elaborate, before throwing a dirty look to the side and proceeding to incriminate his friend. “Actually, the only reason we even went at all was because Jimin suggested it.”

You don’t know why they’re so eager to shift the blame; you’re happy to include both of them on your shit list. 

Jimin seems to grow so incensed at Seokjin’s comment that his mouth grows that much looser and he’s speaking before the thought can even materialise in his brain. “What the fuck, dude— we both agreed to go because we both read that page of her diary that we found the cat playing with! Stop trying to pin this on me, it was a group effort you jerk!”

For a second your brain is filled with white noise as what he said sinks in.

Then you’re pissed.

So pissed, in fact, that you don’t even feel the familiar tingle in your throat when it occurs and you’re exploding before you even realise that the silencing spell has worn off.

“Are you kidding me— YOU READ MY DIARY?!” both boys flinch, eyes shooting wide as they take a physical step back. You’re so angry you’re almost shaking. This is ridiculous! Faintly, you realise that you should shut up but now that you’ve started you can’t make yourself stop.

“This is unbelievable! Not only did your stupidity and your stupid heart-ons for each other end up dragging me into being cursed, but then you went and made this the worst four days of my life!” You jab your finger at them, voice so loud it’s ringing in your own ears. “I can’t believe I like you two! I’m so fucking angry at you— when we get home I’m performing a cutting spell so I don’t have to love you anymore, so fuck BOTH of you and go kiss behind a tree or something!”

You’re slightly out of breath by the time you finish, still fuming but feeling like a weight has been lifted off your chest. About a second later you realise that the spell has worn off and you just tore their heads off, but your brain is a little preoccupied with everything so you decide to deal with the mental repercussions of it later. 

Both boys are silent, looking at you with wide eyes. You’re just beginning to wonder why when Jimin starts to speak, eyes shifting. “y/n did you just… did you just say—”

At his words, you reflect on exactly just came out of your mouth and instantly horror washes over you, your heart dropping through your chest. 

Yeah, you like reading about accidentally confessing in fiction but now you’re suddenly feeling a lot of regret and you’re not so sure you’re a fan of it anymore.

You’re saved from having to muster a response in the current black hole that has become your brain by the door opening, Sunmi returning with three squishy, heavy-looking items in her hand that you quickly recognise as water balloons. The realisation comes a little too late, though, because you don’t even have time to move before she’s pegging them at all three of you and next thing you know, you’re standing there soaked, sputtering and shocked.

“What the hell—?!” Seokjin spits out the water that got in his mouth, gagging. 

“Specially blessed water, procured by yours truly,” Sunmi says simply, moving into the room just to place the doll back on the table, along with a bowl. She reaches into it and throws something like ground stardust on you, sending you all into a coughing fit once more. “Alright, the curse is dissolved. Your speech issues should be solved, but the runes that bind you… they might take a little longer, a day or so, to wear off.”

She smacks her hands together, dusting them off as she delivers the three of you with a sly look. “I’d tell you good luck, but while I was soaking the doll I realised why the three of you in particular were bound. It’s the same as I said before— your feelings aren’t unrequited, for either of the people that you requested blessings for.”

“Either of the people?” you echo, regrettably inclined to talk now that you’re able to again. Sunmi sends you an amused if somewhat exasperated look.

“I’m sure they’ll tell you,” she says cryptically, before angling her body to the others. “Now my work is done, get out. I miss my solitude. Also, I’m keeping the doll as my fee. It’s ugly as hell and is gonna look fantastic on the wall by the dining table.”

Still processing what she said before all of that, your group is hassled out of the house in a blur and before you know it, all six of you are standing in front of her door and witnessing it slam in your faces for the second time today.  

Namjoon is the first to recover and is ridiculously cheerful as he speaks; you’re confused as to why until he sends you a knowing look and you realise that he, along with the other two youngest, probably heard your loud, shameful confession to both boys. He’d never said anything about knowing of your feelings, but you knew he knew. You could feel it in your bones. Also, his expressions aren’t as impassive as he’d like to think they are.

“Right, well! Back to the car everyone! Someone go get Hope and Yoongi. The sooner we head back, the sooner I can forget the weird things I saw in that living room!” He then grabs Taehyung and Jungkook around the shoulders, turning with them and steering them away in the direction of the car. “The sooner I can also get those fish bread things at the market near my house. Gods, I miss them.”

“You have an addiction, hyung.” You hear Jungkook say, his voice growing fainter the further away he grows. You stop attempting to listen after that, turning back to the other two males who you’re surprised to see haven’t budged and are looking straight at you.

“We went to the shrine for you,” Seokjin says suddenly, before you can ask them what they want. You blink, shock smacking you in the face. “We read a page of your diary— which we didn’t realise was a page of your diary until it was too late — and saw that you liked someone, but it didn’t say who.”

“We both wanted it to be us,” Jimin intercedes, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his eyes. His cheeks, along with Seokjin’s, are flushing pink. “Because as you no doubt heard last night, although we like each other… we liked you first. So I think you were drawn into this mess because we both like you… and each other.”

“And, um, like the witch said,” Seokjin gulps, now somewhat tentative. “Our feelings aren’t unrequited… which means that you like us too…?”

“Well, yeah,” Jimin mutters, smacking the other male on the arm. “That’s literally what she said while yelling at us, idiot.”

What they’re saying… is this a love triangle with all sides filled in? It’s a lot to process at once, and they give you a second as they watch the gears turn in your head.

“You…” you pause, struggling to put words together. Finally, you give up trying to be eloquent and slap a hand to your face, closing your eyes. “You both are so stupid— so stupid. I can’t handle this right now.”

When you open your eyes, you’re met with looks of fear. You squash that emotion by jabbing your finger at them, runes still faintly on your wrist. “When we get home, I’m gonna beat you. Then, I’m gonna give you a kiss, and then I’m gonna beat you again, and then we’re going to talk about this. Got it?”

They’re fighting grins at your words, Jimin snorting as they both nod hastily. 

“It’s a date,” Seokjin says cheekily, cackling when you raise your hand at him.

“Can we have a hug, y/n?” Jimin hazards a plea, stepping forward with puppy eyes directed full force at you. “It’s rough when you’re angry at us.”

“You deserved it for all the shit you two said,” you say, rolling your eyes but opening your arms nonetheless. They exclaim in happiness and dive forward, almost making the three of you fall over in their zealousness. You feel your heart ease as you hold them both in your arms and they hold you. 

Maybe this trip and whole ‘getting cursed by a cranky love deity’ thing isn’t a complete disaster after all. 

Then again… you still have the trip back.

a/n: to the commissioner, I hope u like it!!! thank u for reading and if u enjoyed it please lmk with a like and/or rb!! thank u !! love u !!!

[staggeringsmite]

ooh, top 5 moments you've had/witnessed as a DM? (please use this an excuse to hype yourself up if you want!!)

my players make dm’ing beyond worth it, so i really have to give credit to them for the joy of what they bring to a lot of these scenes <3 (also this is all wandering isles bc it’s been my most narratively satisfying and invested dm experience) Buckle Up it’s a long one!!!

bonus: i’m very proud of my individual character moments! throughout the campaign we’ve had about four of these (the intro session scenes, two dream sequences for every pc, and a set of individual trial scenes). we’re a pretty big party so it’s hard to narrow it down, but i just love writing and running those longer narrative moments bc i think it’s a v interesting insight into each character and gives them each a separate moment to shine <3

5. “promise you’ll come back to her” / burning of contingency letters

i put these moments together perhaps to cheat a little bit, but also because they deserve it. xarus, the party’s barbarian whose family was abandoned by his mother at a young age pulls theresa, a forge knitting cleric about to board the airship he is a quartermaster of in order to find a cure for her sick wife. he asks theresa to promise him one thing, that no matter what she will come back to her wife. along the way they write contingency letters to their loved ones in and outside of the party as their adventures grow more and more dangerous, and eventually, exhausted and worn, theresa and xarus find each other in the den of a safehouse to talk. recognizing each other’s willingness to self-sacrifice, their conversation ends with them burning the contingency letters they’ve written, committing to life. these scenes come together because it shows how far they have come together, and the theresa and xarus relationship will always be a highlight of the wandering isles to witness. sometimes the players do all the best work for you, and it’s so wonderful to sit back and watch <3

4. miles is missing

damien returns to the university he works at after an unprecedented amount time away to check on his office before he heads back out on another adventure with the party. while there he moves to put a sticky note (canonically a magical item in the wandering isles universe) on his rival colleague’s (and gay lover/roommate of 20 years) door only to find it entirely emptied without a trace. despite their bickering, miles and damien are very close, and miles would never pack up his things and go without telling damien.

this was a more subtle cliff-hanger for the session, but it was made so much fun as a dm because the players were excited and joking the whole session about miles’ second appearance (and only since the very first session) so his sudden disappearance was made much more severe based on everyone’s anticipation of meeting and having a light-hearted interaction with him.

3. the infamous sex rave

sometimes things go very right as a dm and sometimes things spiral out of control when a pc mislabels a situation which becomes a running joke of the campaign. either way i love being stubborn in my defense of “it isn’t a sex rave!!” whenever they bring it up (and immediately playing an npc who also calls it a sex rave). basically the players had a heist encounter in which they were hired to break a group of pirate prisoner’s out of a secret underground information center (where magical artifacts were also being held and studied, and there was pertinent information stored for the party to take a swipe at). the group split and one subset of party members were forced to hide from guards on the outskirts of a large, gladiatorial style ring within the compound, in which prisoners were competitively battling in order to test the abilities of certain unknown artifacts for the entertainment of anonymous nobles in masquerade getup. based on the magical lighting effects, the strangely dressed noble onlookers, and the,,,, Fighting Noises being some of the only things the pc’s perceived from the level of the auditorium they hid at, it was unfortunately misnomer’ed the “weird sex rave” and has only been referred to it as that ever since.

2. mother abel’s goodbye

hmmm am i making players cry again? yeah maybe. mother abel was an elder cleric of nosa crossing, the starting city of the campaign. she’d lived through its settlement, destruction, rebuilding, and given her all not only to the city but also to the jilted creed (a secret society dedicated to disrupting geline, a large and dangerously powerful island-state which is one of the campaign’s greatest evils). in the last use of her strength she took on a role as a conduit for a powerful plane shift ritual to transport the residents of the city to safety in the feywild as nosa crossing began to be overrun by potent wild magics in the prime material plane. as a low-level cleric, the spell took its toll on her, and as the party arrived in the feywild via a similar ritual to find the inhabitants, they were led to her side. theresa, a native of nosa crossing now reunited with her wife yodean, went to abel’s side with yodean. as yodean sat on the foot of the bed, theresa kneeled as though praying to hold abel’s hand cleric to cleric, confessing her gratitude but admitting that she cannot give as freely as mother abel did, that she and yodean deserve to live for themselves as much as they choose everyday to live for other people. with her final words in a soft, weak message, mother abel comforted theresa in her decision. the scene as a whole was so wonderfully sad, and the best dm moment of something so raw as telling aj, theresa’s player, that while there was no way to confirm it in any real capacity, something in theresa felt that perhaps mother abel held out a little while longer to make sure she was safe one last time and make sure she’d truly gotten everyone home.

1. rosa’s betrayal / lian’s resurrection

enough of that sad shit let’s get mean babey!! aslkjglfk i will be riding the high of this session for an eternity, but it’s quite a lot to break down. rosa rucksaw is the captain of the crew the party rescues in the heist sequence, who eventually reveals herself to in fact be xarus’ mom who fully left to assume a new identity and is Pretty Horrible as a person. at the safehouse, the party is asked by the people they were hired if they would be willing to take the crew to a longer term safehouse island, and the decision is left to xarus. not wanting to be like his mom, xarus agrees to endure a little more time with them in order to them this service out of convenience and kindness. a few hours from their destination, rosa finds xarus on the deck and honestly? kinda begins to admit some amount of guilt for all the shit she did,,,, literally seconds before she reveals that when her and her crew were caught by geline, she struck a deal in order to keep them alive, saying to her biological son “out on the cloudsea your crew is your family, and son, believe me, i’d do anything for my family” before her crew on the deck anchored the ship to an invisible gelinish war vessel and we snapped to roll20 for combat. the look of horror and betrayal on everyone’s face as her monologue hit those final lines, ugh and the fact that no one was super suspicious made it even better!! sometimes it Really Works, and this was one of those times!

flash forward in the battle, and an npc (it’s miles, the gay lover from a few numbers ago) being held hostage by the gelinish vessel is killed, as he is resurrected by two party members (damien and theresa) damien reaches for his soul, as theresa, who multi-classed into divination wizard after a pc named lian died (with failed attempts from theresa and xarus to hold her back) feels another presence in the grey, misty beyond. lian died in session four, and when i said her name to reference jack’s character everyone lost it mostly out of confusion before i began to narrate lian feeling restless in the afterlife, eventually reaching out and forming a celestial warlock pact with miles through his connection to damien and being called upon by her goddess sune as theresa reached out, offering lian the chance to go back. theresa returning to that moment with both her clerical and divinatory abilities, with the blessing of sune, lian emerging on the battlefield, now a vengeance paladin instead of life cleric, with a flaming sword and celestial wings at her back was such an incredible highlight to set up and run,, i just, <333 very proud of myself (and very thankful jack was on board for her coming back) for this moment

thank you so so much!! this was a long ramble, but i hope it was somewhat interesting to people not in the wandering isles <33

send a top 5 or 10?

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 17: 1x23 The Omega Glory

Watched the very uneven episode “The Omega Glory” today. Upon some reflection.. I think I have seen it? But I think my last rewatch ended abruptly after “By Any Other Name” so it might have been some time ago.

Anyway, it was... something. Decent, I might even say good, until the last 10-15 minutes and then it just went off a cliff? That’s how I’d summarize it.

Sulu, my beloved. I’ve missed you.

Kirk knows where all the ships are. I mean, obviously, but I love to hear it.

Phasers on heavy stun huh?

It’s so weird to be on a different ship. That looks like the same ship. It’s so empty and haunted looking.

With creepy crystal remains of bodies everywhere.

“These white crystals... are the crew.”

Something was thirsty!! Perhaps... a water vampire? Perhaps... a former McCoy girlfriend?

(Honestly having watched the whole ep...they could have expanded this intro longer. It was creepy and mysterious. Then cut the last act.)

Oh no, they’ve been infected and now must quarantine. Sort of. I guess.

...Oh no, is this Vietnam? Again?

“Our old enemy, Vietnam.”

My mother suggested the disease might be communism and I don’t think that metaphor tracks through the whole episode but you know what.. anything’s possible.

I don’t like this whole “you can’t leave the planet or you’ll get sick and die” thing. Too familiar.

"I may never be able to leave this planet but I have a worse problem: a colleague may be breaking a rule."

Says the man who has frequently violated a directive that has never been referred to as Prime before.

Kirk is getting very mumbly. That’s his serious voice.... bu it’s also his Denny Crane voice lol.

Like bio warfare in the 90s? TOS really thought the 90s was going to be the dark ages, didn’t it?

Only 90s kids remember...

Spock bursting in with a wounded man, just bringing the drama, as he does.

He’s not even listening to McCoy. Rude.

Spock absolutely 100% would have killed Captain Tracey on instinct as soon as Kirk is threatened.

Sulu’s in command? I love Captain Sulu but where is Scotty?

Kirk is so good. Clever, strong, smart. Knows all the regulations.

Tracey’s so dumb. “They’ve eradicated disease and live for hundreds of years!” Man, have you considered that they are...aliens? And their life spans are simply.... naturally longer than human life spans? And even if you could isolate the serum, it might not work on humans?

And his master plan is to isolate their immunity and bottle it for profit. It’s our old enemy... capitalism and the exploitation of intellectual property.

A fight scene!

“The pointy-eared one stays.”

Another fight scene!

Spock is watching all of this, and you know what, I feel like he’s not upset about it. It’s just like Pre-Reform Vulcan. Perhaps some... Amok Time flashbacks? “Damn, I wish that was me.”

Peanut gallery Spock.

“I wish you could teach me that.” / “I have tried.” Omg where is my scene of Spock trying to teach Kirk the nerve pinch?

And then that look Kirk gives him.

I don’t get the point of this scene but it amuses me that as soon as McCoy sees the pretty girl, he feels better.

A post-apocalyptic alien world... a very interesting concept. Like you could do a lot with that idea imo.

“That’s our worship word [freedom too.” Umm.... questionable.

Damn bitch, that was cold. Just knocking him out like that.

Damn yankee.

...Yankee and Communist dammit.

McCoy’s not even surprised to see Kirk and Spock out of jail.

Nature created a natural counterbalance to the biological disease. Where is OUR natural counterbalance, I ask?

McCoy sounds extra Southern rn. It’s all the stress.

I really don’t think Shatner gets enough credit for his subtlety. His face when McCoy explains the whole situation...

Oh he's mad now. "You've hurt Spock for nothing! Oh yeah and also killed thousands but MOSTLY THE SPOCK THING!”

Whereas Tracey really doesn’t seem to care about anything but war for its own sake. He knows now that his master plan for immortality was nothing the whole time...but he still needs to call those Yangs.

In other words, another once-reputable figure of authority now gone mad.

Kirk’s voice is so casual when he’s talking to Uhura and Sulu, you feel like he’s gotta have something up his sleeve. He can never hide when he’s really upset about something.

...Apparently what he had up his sleeve was his crew knowing regulations and then another full body tackle. Fight scene 3!

"My need for attention is vital.” Same, Spock.

This is a very attenuated and unbelievable connection Kirk is making but he’s Kirk so I’ll assume it makes sense that he’s putting it all together so fast.

Alternate Universe: Vietnam canon-divergence lol.

For anyone keeping track, this is right about the point where the episode goes off the rails.

YOU’RE A ROMANTIC, JIM. Well he’s right about that at least and he should say it.

Oh no, an American flag.

Cloud William, chief and the son of chiefs. That’s continuity of government for you.

(Also pretty hilarious that this society is supposedly So American with our exact flag and Constitution and everything... but they’re not a democracy.)

I really don’t want to believe that “under God” is still in the pledge 200 years from now.

"You're confusing the stars with heaven." Kirk thinks he's being called an angel.

The absolute mishmash of meaningless, referent-free words here. America. Native Americans. Communists. The flag, the Constitution. God. Angels. Devils. What???

Like how can they both be flag worshippers AND...believers in God? Who is their God? Alien George Washington?

So rude to call Spock Kirk’s “servant.” That’s his space husband!

Is that a literal picture of Spock as a demon in their.. Bible?

I can’t even follow this anymore.

“You command him.” I mean...yes, that’s how the military works.

“He has no heart.” Wow, rude.

“His heart is different!” I stan one (1) Southern Doctor.

I feel like Spock is just... not having this at all. His face loos like he’s thinking what I’m thinking.

Oh no is that the CONSTITUTION??!

“Kill his servant” wow Tracey is obsessed with Spock, isn’t he? I guess everyone in the Fleet knows about them and their special relationship.

Spock is even amused by the knife at his throat. His eyes say "I am distressed--but fascinated!"

A FOURTH fight scene? And here I thought Kirk was going to recite the Constitution.

“I’m open to suggestions.” He’s just as worried about Kirk as McCoy is, bu the doesn’t show it.

...Yep, he’s being telepathic again. Not really in line with his usual telepathy but okay. Alien magic is flexible.

Okay I have a JD and I can confidently say there is nothing about good defeating evil in the Constitution.

And now this alien guy is immediately ready to make himself a “slave.” That seems problematic. What happened to the holy word “Freedom”?

Wow, Kirk's in a bad mood. "You can't pronounce your own holy words worth shit."

“This is only for the eyes of a Chief,” he says and Kirk just pushes him away.

Spock literally turns Tracey around for Kirk’s big final speech like “Listen up, bitch, my boyfriend’s talking.”

Is this the 4th of July episode?? Feels like there should be canons and fireworks going off behind him rn.

Idk, the words of the Constitution can't be so unique and unprecedented if a WHOLE OTHER ALIEN CIVILIZATION just came up with them, too, on their own, like monkeys typing Hamlet. (Given the timelines here... they probably did it first too lol.)

"Liberty and freedom need to be more than just words." Like what does that even mean in this context? Sounds nice but it’s very hard to put into the context of all the rest of this.

“And uh be nice to the Kohms,” after most of them (?) were probably just killed.

I really was into this until the last 10-15 minutes and I think there were under-explored concepts that could have taken the fever dream of whatever that bizarre-o fever dream at the end was. The abandoned ship. The leftovers of bio warfare. The whole weird and under-explained concept of immunity. The tragedy that so much was destroyed,, including but not limited to the whole Exeter crew, for no reason. What happened to Tracey to so destroy him--was it just greed? What about the “Prime” Directive? Is it important or not. They just leave at the end after (as Spock pointed out) doing quite a bit of their own meddling, even though meddling is allegedly the worst. Also, we know almost nothing about the Kohms at all. The “American” society clearly wasn’t democratic. Were the Kohms literally Communist?

I’m willing to accept a certain degree of alternate Earth scenarios--like Miri (though imo that was not a necessary component of that story) or Bread and Circuses, but this was too much. TOO unbelievable. And frankly unnecessary. You could do an allegory for alternate-Vietnam, and it would be just as clear but even more effective. There wouldn’t be any distraction in the form of “what the fuck is that flag doing here?”

There is a potentially incendiary concept here, which is the same one I thought of reading about actual COG plans--certain aspects of the Yanks’ culture survives, but with absolutely no meaning attached. They have a Constitution but they mispronounce all the words. They have this tattered flag but it has no other meaning. They’ve turned the symbols of the government into a religion, but they don’t practice any of the civil aspects of it--they have chiefs, not democratically appointed leaders, for example. Like, COG asks “what IS the country, and how do you make sure the country endures no matter what?” This was an opportunity to show the worst of that: the country continues to exist as symbology only--incredibly strong symbology, but only that--and all of the actual values that were supposed to be stored with that symbology have disappeared. Similarly, their hatred of their enemies endures. It’s lauded in the ep as their attempt to get “their land” back but what if it’s just war for its own sake, as Tracey seems to be engaging in? To tell that story, especially in the 60s, against the backdrop of Vietnam, and with the references to bio warfare and nuclear warfare, could be powerful. And I know TOS can work in metaphor and comparison. It doesn’t need to bring out a literal fucking flag.

Honestly, it was like they had one good, classic, sci fi story but it didn't fill 52 minutes so they tacked on the American Pride 4th of July Propaganda Extravaganza at the end.

It really felt like the lesson was “America good” lol.

I liked the concept of the post apocalyptic society in the aftermath of bio warfare as a cautionary tale for 1960s America, and I'd be up for crazed snake oil salesman Starfleet Captain (or...whatever his rank was) if it were a bit better explained. But the rest of it....

It also... could have been kinda incendiary with the idea that the Constitution and flag are religious symbols... I mean some people do treat them that way and I've always found that, first, blasphemous, and second, bizarre in such a hyper-Christian country. But I feel like instead of digging ito that, they just tempered it with "But also they're Christian, as you can tell by their drawing of devil!Spock, for some reason."

Idk, this story could have been complete with out the whole weird “Vietnam AU” back story or alternately it could have been a biting commentary about what defines America, and about whether or not our symbols might be more enduring--or even more important to people today??--than the laudable but more complex and difficult ideals that underpin the country’s founding. Are the words of the Constitution just gobbledy gook? They are if you don’t live by them, and America has always struggled to do that. It definitely would struggle even more in the aftermath of an apocalypse.

...I’m more annoyed now, thinking about the possible sci fi story that could have been...

Anyway next is an ep I’m fairly sure I haven’t  seen, so that should be fun.

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 14 - The Party To Protect The People From The NHK (N Koku Party) commences "Same sex, same name stealth operation".

K: Hi this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, starting this episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome....Well, recently, who knows whats really happening?

J: Yeh, its troubling. I've been spending a lot longer looking at my phone and computer. I've been getting a lot of coupons. My favourite shops or brands are all going online...well, no ones going into the shops, so they can only sell online. So i've been getting coupons like, if you spend over a certain amount, you'll get 20,000yen off.

T: I see.

J: I think like, 'Waa, I wanna spend!'..but then I think, actually since April, I've had less work so I need to restrain myself. I experience this conflict every day for about 15mins. Like, whats wrong with me?

T: I see.

J: Thats thier strategy.

K: If you have free time...

J: Thats it.

K: You'll end up spending money.

J: Normally, they have expirations, and I just think 'Aghh', so its really...

K: You can't help buying stuff, right?

J: I do end up buying stuff!

K, T: *laugh*

J: I really do! I bet there are people out there addicted to coupons! Aren't you? Are you ok?

K: Well, im ok. I just shop by mail order.

J: Ahh

T: I see

J: People are shopping like that a lot right now.

T: Hiranabe san, who works at our place, he's got a lot of offers from night time establishments, and he's troubled as to what to do.

J: Oh, to get him to go there?

T: Yeah. He got an unprecedented amount of messages.

K: (quietly) Unprecedented?

T: Like, 'please come, please come, please come'.

K: He only gets them now? Cause he'll be quick to spend.

J: How is Hiranabe san doing?

T: Well, as expected, he seems scared. He's in his 50s, it looks like he finally understands that his life might be in danger if he caught the virus. He wears a mask, he wears pollen protection glasses. When he goes outside he's like..'the virus won't get in my eyes'.

J: Sounds like a terrorist! Thats just like him.

T: He flipped 180°. He used to be the guy who says, 'Im not wearing a mask'.

J: Oh, really?

T: He's that different now.

J: Well, Im a similar age to Hiranabe san...

T: I can't believe it!

K: I can't believe it.

J: So, what was it?..Its risky, if you are over 50 its more dangerous?

K: Ohh right, yeah.

J: If you catch it, there's a higher death rate at this age?

T: Also, men are more at risk, right?

K: Yeah.

T: They are saying the death rate is higher for men.

J: Well, we are among that group. Shall we get on with the main topic? I thought we'd go with a topic that is unrelated to corona this time.

' "N Koku Party's 'same name, same sex' stealth strategy for Shizuoka no.4 district Lower house by-election". With the death of Mochizuki Yoshio, the LDP's former environment minister, candidates standing for election are the LDP's Fukuzawa Youichi, an independent group of the unified opposition's Tanaka Ken, independent candidate Yamaguchi Kenzo, and the Party Against the NHK (N Koku Party)'s Tanaka Ken, whose name is the same as the unified opposition's candidate. N Koku's Tanaka Ken uses the same kanji, and has the same reading as the unified opposition's Tanaka Ken. The opposition parties, electoral commission, and local media are racking thier brains about it. If a vote is for 'Tanaka Ken', there will be no way to distinguish between the two. Its a proportional division system, so ambiguous votes will be split according to the overall percentage of votes. The electoral administrative committee have taken measures to change the rule that makes a ballot paper invalid if it includes anything other than a candidate's name, to allow a candidate's age to be written aswell. As a result of this, with the aim of reducing ambiguous votes, the unified opposition are promoting 'Tanaka Ken - Age 42' in thier election cars, posters, and online in order to attract votes. On the other hand, N Koku's Tanaka Ken surprisingly hasn't taken any action. He has refused pre-election interviews with the media, hasn't published an campaign bulletin, he doesn't appear in election posters, he has no plans to visit the area. There are expected to be people voting who are unaware that two Tanakas are standing for election. As for N Koku's aim, their leader, Tachibana, had this to say.."We want to test how the votes will be split when there are candidates with exactly the same name. We are not appealing for votes either online or on the ground. We are a weak political party, and want to know how we stand *1'.

There's also suggestion of running another female candidate named Koike Yuriko for Tokyo governer. I thought we could talk about this kind of same name/sex disturbance strategy which the N Koku party has set up.

T: Its amazing, isn't it?

K: So are they doing it to siphon votes?

J: It seems like it, yeah. Especially, that would be the aim if it was for Tokyo Governor.

T: They said they wanted to test how the votes would be split, so like you said Joe, for Tokyo Governor, if it was someone else called Koike Yuriko, they would want to get the data of how the votes are split.

J: Well, its not about freedom of expression, but there is nothing illegal about what they are doing in terms of the election, so its totally ok for them to do this. What do you think, Kaoru?

K: Well..*laughs*, even if you ask.....its interesting but...how will it end up? But, well, hmmm...its fine, isn't it?

J: As it happens, I've been on a radio event with Tachibana san once. And also...well, in this kind of election, a candidate who no one is expected to vote for is called a bubble candidate, the most famous example is Mac Akasaka. I've worked with Mac Akasaka before, so I've listened to what these kind of guys have to say. I mean, certainly, these guys are laughed at and made fun of a lot, but apart from the question of what Tachibana Takashi is doing, to be a candidate for Tokyo Governor, you have to pay a deposit of at least 3 million yen. And if you recieve under a tenth of the total valid votes, you have to forfeit your deposit. The Tokyo Governor elections get about 5 million votes, so if you get under 500,000 votes, you will lose your deposited 3 million yen. As for national elections, the deposit is 6 million yen. So you can call it a prank all you like, but they are spending a lot of money to do this. What a lot of bubble candidates will tell you is, its not free, so they are doing this with the intention to win, they do think thier ideas will improve the country, improve thier party. If there was no financial risk, it would end up at the level of annonymous postings on SNS. But after they've actually paid money, most of them will start electoneering. Making election posters costs money, and there's the cost of gas to run a car to go handing out flyers, and all sorts of things like that. It will end up costing another huge chunk of money in election costs. So in doing this, there is another side to these guys other than, 'they are just idiots'. Maybe they are trying to get people to change the way they see elections, instead of just routinely voting for the faces they know.

T: Well this case has great advertising effectiveness.

J: It does, yeah.

T: Tachibana san's name has really been sold with this.

J: It has.

T: Like, with his own business, and on you tube and stuff *2.

J: Well, as for my personal opinion, I remember Uchida Yuuya running for Tokyo Governor. You can still find his political broadcast on youtube, its great. If you compare Yuuya san to Tachibana san, honestly, Tachibana san seems to have more of a knack for it.

T: Its interesting seeing that kind of political broadcast on NHK. ????*3

J: Well, even in times such as these, we are still having elections. From now on, due to corona we'll probably see new ways to vote and new ways to do all sorts of other things.

K: Its created a need to re-think things, like with the custom of personal seals...in Japan there's a big custom of 'You have to do it this way', or 'You need it on paper'.

J: Yeah, as you mentioned Kaoru, the custom of using personal seals...in the end, even Japan's IT minister also stands as the head of the organization to retain personal seals. Somehow in Japanese society, one of the things companies insist on is the personal seal. There are those who ask why they can't just settle things digitally, but if the minister responsibile for advancing IT is also the head of a group advocating to retain the personal seal, there is a clash going on now. This is the kind of time to think about changing the political system.

T: Things would change a lot if we switched to online voting.

J: They would change, yeah. If young people started voting a lot online...

K: Yeah, right now, in the situation we have now, I think people are starting to think about future.

J: Yes, in that respect, although its very difficult with corona around, I feel like we are starting to wake up to the things we have just put up with till now. I mean, what comes next? In particular, with coronavirus, a lot of countries' governments have taken on huge powers, and in some countries its almost like a corona dictatorship. So, its very difficult, but we really need to slightly re-think the way we carry out elections and the way the state operates from now.

T: We, ourselves are a part of it, right?

J: Yes, yes...Yep, so, same sex, same name...it even hard to search for him. I wonder what this candiate actually intends. ?????*4

K: He's not showing his face much.

J: What will he do if he wins? ...Eh? Hello??

K: Is he sleeping?

Kami: Yes, yes.

J: Were you asleep, Kami?

Kami: No, I was waiting till you called on me.

J: Oh, you were waiting? Oh, sorry.

Kami: I've had a thought.

J: Oh, have you?

Kami: I have...Um, Joe should run for the N Koku Party.

J: *laughs*

K, T: Ohhh

J: Me?!

T: Thats a good idea.

J: Would it be ok, though?

T: In the Tokyo Governor election.

J: In the Tokyo Governor election? Which election?

Kami: It would be ok, yeah.

J: Would it?

Kami: Yeah, anything is ok.

J: *laughs* You couldn't participate in the election could you, Kami? You don't have voting rights?

Kami: No, I don't, but instead, I can make myself into substance.

J: What?

Kami: By pretending to be a citizen.

T: Prentending to be a citizen?

J: Oh, is that it?

K: So that means you could pile up votes for someone?

J: Right?

Kami:...No, I can only do it once.

J: Oh, so you can only take on substance once?

Kami: Yeah, yeah...a bit like Devilman.

T: Ah, like Devilman.

J: But if you could do that, surely you'd be able to do it will two or three people? I feel as if you've just made that up.

*K laughs*

J: Did you just make that up, Kami?

Kami:...Yes, I did.

K: *laughs*

J: He did.

K: I feel like his heart hasn't been in it for a while now.

T: *laughs*

J: Kami, has your mind been elsewhere?

Kami: Ye...uh, no no no.

K: He said yes!

J: *laughs*

Kami: Crush the NHK.

J: Yes, crush it.

K: Well, on that note, I think we can finish here. Thank you, please tune in next time. Please subscribe, thank you very much.

J: Please do.

Kami: Vote for Joe!

*1 I think the confusion arises here, because rather than ticking a box, Japanese voters have to actually write down the name of the person they are voting for.

*2 Think thats what he meant.

*3,4 Couldn't catch these bits.

[razieltwelve]

Regal (Final Effect)

“How do I look?” Weiss IX asked.

Anna smiled. “I think you look lovely.”

“Lovely?” Weiss frowned at her reflection in the mirror. “I was hoping I looked more regal than lovely.”

Anna tilted her head to one side. “Really?”

“This is the first time I’ll be giving a State of the Alliance address since we began to explore another galaxy. People are anxious to know more. So far, there’s a lot of conjecture and rumour, and not nearly enough solid facts for most people to feel comfortable. I want to project an air of authority and command. I want people to look at me and be absolutely confident that I am the correct person to be in charge.”

“I hardly think anyone has lost confidence in you, Weiss,” Anna pointed out. “You’ve handled this whole situation quite well, and the Alliance’s economic numbers have never been better.”

“Even so...” Weiss glared at her reflection. “Perhaps I should glare more when I give the address.”

“....” Anna exchanged a look with Lord Spikebatten. Her loyal hedgehog was going over some security arrangements for their upcoming trip with the war corgis he was training. Since they were all in their smaller forms, it was a rather adorable looking meeting. “Weiss, you’ve been doing this for years now. You’ll be fine.”

Weiss huffed. “I’m just a bit nervous. I saw your sister’s State of the Empire address...”

“Oh.” Anna giggled. “She does have that air about her, doesn’t she? She’s all ‘Behold Your Glorious Empress Whom None Are Worthy To Even Look Upon’, isn’t she?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Weiss grumbled.

“I really think it’s at least partly due to the Farron genes,” Anna said. “They make it easier for us to look good while maintaining a relatively stern expression. And the Empire does have a more martial culture than the Alliance. In the Empire, people prefer it when the ruler projects an air of ‘screw with the Empire and die in a hail of glorious Imperial plasma’. The Alliance is a bit less militant.” Anna grinned. “I think they respond better to your usual approach, the one where you try to explain things the way you would to a business partner or employee.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Weiss sighed. “And Blakey does say I tend to look more adorable than menacing when I glare.” Weiss glared. “What do you think?”

Anna tried very hard not to laugh. Weiss’s adorable glare was not at all helped by the fact that she was definitely showing now. It wouldn’t be more than a few months before the baby arrived. “I think you’re absolutely terrifying.”

“Liar.” Weiss rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe I should give my speech while sitting on a war corgi in its war form.” The war corgis immediately perked up, tails wagging. “It would be a reverse Dia-Farron effect.”

“Oh, you mean about how they always brandish hamsters at people when they’re trying to appear harmless? Well, it’s obvious, but it does seem to be effective. But I really think you should just do what you normally do. People are worried. They’re concerned. Sit down, have a chat with them, put them at ease. It’s something you’re good at.”

Weiss nodded. “Yes. I think I will.” She moved to slide onto Anna’s lap onto to realise that the size of her belly made it impossible to squeeze between the table and Anna. “...”

Anna chuckled and stood up, easily lifting her. “And, hey, I’ll let you in on a secret.”

“Oh?”

“My sister likes the whole stern empress in absolute command thing because she’s always been a big believer in the power of Farron tyranny to make things more efficient.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Although all of the Children of Remnant have a fairly martial culture, there are definitely still levels involved. The Empire contains pretty much everyone descended from the Clans, who had an infamously martial approach to dealing with their problems. Even the Dia, who were considered somewhat less likely to stab people, were only considered less stabby because they preferred to use guns. The Empire has, historically speaking, been the one to enter battle first whilst the Alliance has often taken a more moderated approach. This may also be influenced by the political structure. Weiss IX is not an absolute monarch the way Averia VII is, so some level of compromise and negotiation are needed.

That said, Averia VII is a phenomenal public speaker. If you were to rate emperor and empresses on their public speaking ability, she would definitely rank in the top ten with solid arguments for her to be put in the top five.

Weiss IX is not as good a speaker (although still a very good one), but she is an incredible administrator who has shepherded the Alliance through a period of unprecedented economic growth and prosperity. It’s why Blakey has not so subtly warned anyone thinking of stepping out of line that there will be consequences for any... stupidity. Yeah, Blakey’s mom and Weiss’s dad might be enemies, but she and Weiss get along just fine. 

Fun fact: The trip that Lord Spikebatten is planning is to Remnant. Weiss IX wants to have her child in the ancestral manor of her family (i.e., the manor that Weiss and Ruby lived in with their family). She wants her child’s first breaths to be taken on Remnant where everything began. Anna thinks it’s a wonderful idea, although she and Lord Spikebatten will be fortifying the manor like you wouldn’t believe.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here.

[liam-93-productions]

Pushing a trolley stacked high with cans of Baked Beans along a narrow corridor, it's hard at first to recognise the masked young man despite his face being on billboards around the world.

His hair, too, is longer thanks to lockdown, while his hands are covered by an unflattering pair of latex gloves.

Up close there's no mistaking who the mystery man is....but quite why Liam Payne finds himself stacking shelves in a London foodbank is another matter.

In an exclusive interview with the Mirror, the down-to-earth 26-year old singer has spoken for the first time about how he felt compelled to act in the wake of the global pandemic.

Like many, he was left deeply upset by reports of families struggling to eat under the crippling financial pressure caused by the nation going into lockdown.

And in an extraordinary act of generosity, the star has donated cash worth 360,000 food parcels to the Trussell Trust, who support a nationwide network of food banks.

But he wanted to get his hands dirty too....so headed down to a foodbank in London's Euston to volunteer and also find out first hand about the scale of the problem.

“I was told that in terms of people turning up to that specific foodbank, it was almost double, if not more. It's terrible people need food banks anyway but now, it's getting worse and worse,” he says.

Liam spent the day packaging up food parcels for the homeless with a team of four other charity volunteers

“My job for the day also entailed packaging up specific items for homeless people that were stuck on the street,” he says. “They need very specific types of food because a lot of them can't cook things, they can't prepare stuff, they can't get boiling water.”

Last week The Trussell Trust said it was enduring its busiest ever period, with 81% more emergency food parcels being given out across the UK compared to the same period in 2019. This included 122% more parcels going to children.

“The numbers are crazy,” he admits. “And it's just disturbing to know how many people are without food in these circumstances. I hope enough people out there know about these food banks and can get down to them.”

He paid special tribute to the “inspiring” foodbank volunteers he met including Carla, Dorothea and Helena.

“These people are putting themselves on the line every single day going out and doing this, putting themselves at risk,” he says

“I want to urge anyone reading this to donate to The Trussell Trust if you’re able to. I know lots of people are in a really difficult financial position right now so can’t … but if you can please do donate.”

Growing up in Wolverhampton, money was tight in the Payne household, with dad Geoff a fitter and mum Karen a nursery nurse.

But while he admits that “money definitely put stress on the family in certain circumstances”, he says that it was a world away from the current predicament many families are now finding themselves in.

“This is a really unprecedented situation that we find ourselves in right now,” he says. “It's very distressing seeing the number of people out there losing their jobs. I'm hoping that the Government does what it can and makes those right decisions so that we can all improve this and get back on our feet as quickly as possible.”

(...)

Liam says he was also left worried about new reports of a potentially lethal inflammatory syndrome in children that appears to be linked to coronavirus infections.

“To think of kids struggling, it really, really pulls on the heart strings, and I just can't imagine how people feel in that position.”

Liam reserves special praise for the army of NHS workers up and down the country and says how he has been joining in the Clap for our Heroes every Thursday.

And like so many other people he has been left horrified by the rising death toll among their ranks – not least as he recognises the important role the NHS played in his own life.

The star has previously said how he was born “effectively dead” with doctors having to bring him round. He was then in and out of hospital with kidney problems as a toddler.

Asked if he owed a personal debt to the NHS, he said: “I think so, definitely. Living in the country and having the NHS service, I think we have taken it for granted. It's unfortunate that it's only in times like these that we all suddenly realize that. I mean these guys literally put themselves at risk every day. It's wonderful to hear the clapping throughout the streets, and people really, really going for it.”

Work-wise, the lockdown has meant that Liam has had to put on hold a series of international dates over the summer including a gig in Russia.

“I hadn't been there before, even with One Direction, so I was quite miffed about,” he says. “But you have to do what you have to do in this circumstance. And I was actually meant to go to America at the time of this, and luckily I'd stayed put for the moment, I didn't want to be stuck away from all my family and everything, which would have been even harder.”

Instead he has taken on the rather unique challenge of putting on gigs from the confines of his London flat. As well as performing the One World Together at Home gig put on by Lady Gaga, he performed his new single Midnight with Alesso on James Corden's chatshow from both his frontroom and rooftop.

“I mean it's challenging to make things look interesting from home.... we were flying a drone around in here, what we’ll do next I don’t know..!” he laughs.

For someone who has been so open before about his mental health while in One Direction, I wonder how he is doing holed up away from his friends and family?

Liam has previously spoken about suffering chronic loneliness in the band and having to seek therapy because he was in such a “bad place”.

He says: “The thing that I'm trying to remember in my head is there are going to be bad days. There are going to be some days where you feel a bit down. But as long as you know that, you can kind of battle your way through it a little bit.

“But I think the main thing for me is just making sure I have a routine and setting mini goals and little victories like writing a song or making sure that I've been in touch with a family member that day.

“But I think one of the things we can all do to help each other is just by staying in touch. If you know somebody who's a little bit lonely or is struggling, reach out to them.”

Liam is supporting the Trussell Trust, an anti-poverty charity that supports a network of food banks and campaigns for a future where everyone can afford their own food. You can support their work by donating here – www.trusselltrust.org/make-a-donation/

[marginal-notes]

TLOK Episode One a.k.a. Korra immediately goes on a rampage

So, as mentioned, I’m finally getting around to watching The Legend of Korra with all of my terrible tastes and general thoughts. 

Don’t give me spoilers, my indignation will be funnier without them. 

What I Know About Korra Going In:

If the show can have all of Aang’s bending teachers still around for the audience’s nostalgic pleasure, Suki better be alive and kicking too or I am going to throw a fit

Technology progressed pretty intensely in ways that I will want to pick apart later

Listen, what the fuck is Republic City. Why. Why does this exist. Show you better answer me fast with why this exist for a legitimate in world reason that isn’t just: “The audience is a bunch of American kids and teenagers and we want to uphold the liberal ideals of democracy because of course that’s the motives of the victors after a global war of probably unprecedented scope despite like, Zero (0) indication that the idea of democracy was rattling around anyone’s heads in ATLA.” 

If this is the reason, I’m going to quit watching. Disgraceful. Disgusting.

Something involving anti-bender sentiment.

Something involving something called the Red Lotus which I am side-eyeing the shit out of 

Bloodbending?????

Spirit World shenanigans and Avatar backstory that’s on thin ice with me. 

Love triangles. UGH. TERRIBLE. WHY DOES MEDIA DO THIS. WHO FINDS THIS INTERESTING. PLEASE RAISE YOUR HAND SO YOU CAN EXPLAIN TO ME. 

Alright, here we go. 

WELL, 30 SECONDS IN AND I GOT MY WISH FOR AN EXPLAINATION ABOUT REPUBLIC CITY.

Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko transformed the Fire Nation colonies into the United Republic of Nations, a society where benders and nonbenders from all over the world could live and thrive together in peace and harmony.

Okay. I’m.... I’m going to withhold judgement for now until I watch like, literally more than 30 seconds to fully form my thoughts about this move. I THINK IT’S A DUMB MOVE AND IF THIS IS WHY PEOPLE KEEP HAVING FIRE NATION DEMOCRACY FICS I QUIT.

So. We get a panning shot into this city. Very urban city that’s the product of the industrialization and like whatever the hell that propaganda voice over is talking about. 

As a method of setting the scene and immediately letting the viewers feel and know the passage of time between ATLA and TLOK, I love this shot. There’s no mistaking this for being immediately after ATLA. We’re listening to one of Aang’s kids. There are skyscrapers. The Fire Nation palace in ATLA probably counted towards the architectural development towards urban skyscrapers, but that architecture is fully formed by TLOK. Brilliant. 

I'm the Avatar! You gotta deal with it!

What a cute brat. Her poor parents, oh my god. 

Also, is she supposed to be a prodigy. 

Again with immediately setting contrasts against ATLA. Very cool demonstration, extremely effective distinction between Aang’s journey around the world trying to find teachers and learning how to bend in the middle of a war vs. Korra at peacetime with a whole entire facility dedicated to her. 

Not sure about how I feel regarding the White Lotus’s presence. 

IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE KATARA????

That's your grandmother, Meelo.

Does he not visit his parents. It can’t be that hard to swing by for like. Yearly festivals if the Water Tribe has those. I don’t see why not. Maybe something for when the winter night ends, I can see that being festive. 

Tenzin do you like. Not call? Not write?? Sir???

Oh my god, Pema. I hope she really likes kids, despite how rowdy they are. 

Wait. How old is Tenzin. Thirties to forties? 

How old is Katara. 

Is this going to be a repeat of the Fire Nation royal miracle babies. 

I get that, but I don't think keeping me locked up in this compound like a prisoner is what he had in mind.

Going by the episode title, I bet we know what Korra has in mind. Speaking of this compound, where’s the Southern Tribe? The aerial shots look like it’s in the middle of nowhere. Is she so far removed that she doesn’t even spend time with the tribe she was born into? Cause that sure as hell wasn’t how Aang was raised. 

Honestly fascinating as these contrasts keep coming. The bizarre presence of the White Lotus. The way her teachers come to her instead of her seeking her teachers the way Aang and Roku did. 

The Avatar must have always been a special political figure, without any good contemporaries to our world, to be honest. Back in ATLA, we see that Roku isn’t beholden to Fire Nation citizenship - he seems to transcend that. And it honestly seems important that Roku and Aang went out to the world, experienced the other nations and their ways of life. I think Aang does have a line regarding this. 

Because Korra’s situation? Can easily turn into a nightmare, given the realities of what being the Avatar could easily mean. 

OKAY THIS SHIP. Very cool looking, very neat, I continue to love every visual manifestation of the passage of time between ATLA and TLOK. One small question. What’s with the rigging poles. 

(source)

To be fair, this is a battleship from the British navy, but aesthetically I think we can say this is a fair inspiration. From what I remember while researching the coal fic, the rigging and poles there serve no function. It’s aesthetical. At best, there’s a limited function, but it’s predominantly for aesthetics in the transition into the ships like the Titanic with no rigging at all. 

Which raises my question about WHY ON EARTH?? The Fire Nation navy in ATLA??? Were clearly way past this stage in design? Literally during Sozin’s time too??? Almost two hundred years before this current shot in TLOK? Why would the ship design regress like this??? The Water Tribe ships probably wouldn’t evolve into the designs that Europe used? Earth Kingdom ships would probably be more inspired by East Asian designs which also wouldn’t end up with this system for sails? 

Where does this aesthetic come from. 

IS THAT A CAR. 

....

.......

..........

I am not qualified at all for dissecting the potential social and cultural explanation for the western influenced aesthetics appearing. I am but an ignorant banana, I don’t know shit. 

.......

oooooooh this is going to slowly annoy me isn’t it.......... 

That will be twenty yuans.

[Jaws theme]

The city's huge. I bet we could find a place to rustle up something to eat.

You know, I’ve seen plenty of weird shit in Central Park and around NYC before. Korra, you are so unprepared.  

Are you tired of living under the tyranny of benders? Then join the Equalists!

Oh boy. Let’s.... let’s put a pin in this thought. I’ll come back to it once I know more about what’s going on. Because. This will either be fun. Or I’m going to have to create a second spite fic folder. Please, show, don’t give me reason to create a second spite fic folder. 

On a different note though, I really do love the choices so far for setting up this show’s forward path. There’s no way to mistake this as a rerun of ATLA. This is it’s own separate story and I love that. I really do respect that. The way the different threads are emerging feel really smooth: 1) the impact of Korra’s isolation towards her culture shock in the giant city - which must smell and sound REALLY weird to her; 2) her prodigious talent in the physical, exciting parts of bending meshing with her teenage nature and also clashing with the spiritual parts of being the World Bridge; 3) the absolute hot bed of chaos every part of Republic City must be. 

Kinda funny that people would still have sideburns in the same style as from like. Seventy years ago. Vintage. 

Mr. Chung, please tell me that you have my money, or else I can't guarantee I can protect your fine establishment.

My terrible taste in interests rears its head again. Listen, you cannot imply something like the mafia or the triads exist in universe and not have me immediately ALL OVER THAT. Republic City, you are such a mess. Like, for this alone, I might write a single fic for TLOK that’s just about trash collection and disposal. And corruption. And- 

I am fascinated by the genetics and molecular/cellular biology behind the yellow and white eyes in this universe. 

Police! Freeze where you are!

Bitch what the fuck. How many of these rigid airships are part of the police. Are all of them for the police? Are the police literally patrolling people from the sky? 

Also, that better be helium in those ships instead of hydrogen by this point in time. I’ve already made my post about the fleet of hydrogen ships in Sozin’s Comet. 

How much property damage is being inflicted thanks to these couple minutes. The police just. Stab the brick work. There have got to be so many bitchy lawsuits about that. 

This poor girl’s culture shock. 

HEY I HOPE THAT POLICE OFFICER SWUNG THEMSELF ON A CLOTHLINE, NOT AN ELECTRIC LINE LIKE I FIRST THOUGHT. 

HEY YOU CAN RIP SOMEONE’S SCALP OFF LIKE THAT. 

HEY WHAT IS WITH THIS WHOLE SCENE. 

HOW ARE THEY JUST RIDING ON THOSE WIRES, HOW MUCH TENSION IS IN THAT STUFF. 

HOW DOES THAT ZEPPLIN MOVE THAT FAST AND LIKE. AGILE. 

YALL. 

WHY DOES THE POLICE STATION LOOK LIKE THAT

Well then, why are you treating me like a criminal? Avatar Aang and your mother were friends. They saved the world together.

Oh this bit is fascinating, I love it. It’s only been 18 minutes, but the level of sheer propaganda everywhere trailing after Aang is really cool. There’s so much I want to know now about how Aang got from the end of ATLA, where he probably wasn’t thinking AT ALL about this kind of cult legacy forming around him, to this. 

Lin Beifong’s shut down of Korra’s attempt to use her status as Avatar is great. Just because Korra’s born into this elite role and then locked up and probably pampered in her compound, where everyone is well aware of her status and what it means, it doesn’t mean she gets to strut around with no idea how stuff works or the context behind what she’s seeing and then doing whatever she wants. 

Contrasts, love ‘em. 

On a different note, the design of this room. 

As far as I can tell, it’s a dim, doorless room, which is honestly. Really terrible design. And it says something about the way the Republic City police functions and how that reflects on the chaos of the city itself. 

Putting someone dragged into the police station in a dim room without any door as a sign of a possible escape is just a terrible idea. The only thing you’re going to succeed in is making the person tenser and more belligerent. Your suspect or witness gets more nervous, gets more combative, gets more unreliable in this kind of environment. In turn, the police probably starts feeling more and more entitled to harsher retaliation. Conflict resolution? De-escalation? That really doesn’t look like its in the core of the city police. They’re wearing armor for god’s sake. 

Everything so far in this first impression of the police is really damning about their attitude and Lin Beifong’s leadership. Rather than using a rappel line down from the airships, they damage buildings. In chasing Korra, they further damage property. The armor, this freaking room. The fact that so much about the active police shown so far depends on metalbending, which implies that very few people can join the field police. The fact that for the gang to be so blatantly in the open about their presence and territory, there must be dirty cops on their payroll. 

There has to be so much Lin Beifong hate in this city. 

I have done my best to guide Republic City toward the dream my father had for it, but you're right. It has fallen out of balance since he passed.

If anyone tries convincing me Republic City was ever in “balance” they’re a punk ass liar. I don’t think the city could have ever been in balance, whatever that is. The way it was created, the speed it expanded, the life that must be lived there - balance? Don’t kid me with that propaganda. 

Tenzin could be trying to find a balance alright. I just wonder how many people vehemently disagree with his idea of balance. 

Hello? I'm Korra, your new Avatar.

Well, TLOK is definitely in the era of mass distribution of news and the idea of public sentiment at a level never seen before. This is going to be very interesting for its populist implications, along with other developments regarding politics. 

Oh Korra. Did no one try rehearsing this with you? This is a terrible first impression for you to give to people. 

Also, what is this building. Is this like a city hall? Why is the roof on the building to the side slanted like that. That’s an angle I’d expect from like. Snow concerns. In northern Europe. 

Love that Avatar Aang propaganda. Starting to feel like we’re going to see a lot of it going forward. 

Oh my god, everything about this press briefing (?) is highly concerning. This rampaging teenager suddenly appearing without any warning or announcement. The clear lack of script or practice. The open location just to anyone instead of to a select set of journalists who would be sympathetic/under government control. Lin fucking Beifong and Tenzin being the only people accompanying Korra on the stage. 

What a disaster. 

FINAL THOUGHTS

You know, I’m enjoying this more than I expected to. The general writing is great, the use of visuals and other small details to set the time and place is excellent, the worldbuilding implications are rich in potential. I’m looking forward to exploring where the plot threads introduced so far will lead towards!

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 17 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 17 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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She went forward, toward the galley, along dimly lit passages that she had known all of her life.  Great Dragons!  He trusts me this much?  Why?  Odd though, I think that I trust him, too.  He seems to have been completely honest with me.  I wonder what I would feel for him if I weren’t trapped in this mess?

The first rule of survival is to live.  I’ll do this job, too.  I won’t be sick.  

The worst of it is, what I told him is true.  I saw what they did to the last couple that violated the Marriage Laws.  They won’t execute me!  After the dinner tonight, nobody would believe that I was coerced. — — At least he’s not bad in bed.

She pushed open the galley door and was greeted by Jaret who was emboldened by the Captain’s absence.

“Well if it ain’t the high and mighty!” he said sarcastically.  “Quite a leap up from stores clerk to cabin-girl, ain’t it?”

Shaking inside, because she had never simply seized power that she did not actually have, she steeled herself and looked about brightly.  “I’m glad that you agree.  Looking at how you are dressed and how I’m dressed, the difference in our stations is obvious, even to you. Backing that up, of course, is where I sit at dinner and where you sit.

“Now, I need three snack trays delivered to the Captain’s cabin before the second drum of the evening watch.  We will need one with crab-cakes and puffs and a divided center-bowl with sweet sauce and sharp sauces.  The next one should be thin sliced red-weed bread with minced paddle-duck egg spread.  The last one should have crunchy fried fish puffs in an assortment of flavors and a divided center-bowl with tart and sour sauces.  We also need a large flagon of water and a pair of bowls with dried sauce bases, both sweet and tart.”

She looked brightly up at him, standing with his arms truculently crossed.  “Can you remember all of that Jaret?  You didn’t take any notes.”

“Want ‘em all you want, Chit-girl.  You ain’t gonna get ‘em.  Watch changes next drum and the galley’s already closed.”  He started to spin about contemptuously when her icy voice stopped him cold.

“That’s perfectly understandable.  I’m sure Captain Barad will forgive your ruining his evening’s entertainment.  Of course, if he should be in one of those moods, the entire galley crew on this watch could be tomorrow’s entertainment.”

Houfan, the lead journeyman cook of the watch, abruptly pushed Jaret aside so forcefully that the apprentice bounced off a counter.  Houfan had a tallow-slate in hand and a worried look on his face.

“Kurti, …” he searched frantically for a title in this unprecedented situation, “Ma’am, I thought that Jaret was taking care of your order.  I apologize for the rudeness of our heedless apprentice. What was your need again?”

Kurti told him politely and then left.  She closed the door and leaned against it listening.  “What’s the matter with you, boy?  Even if she doesn’t have the Captain’s favor, and she does — ”  There was an inaudible mumble followed by, “He’s spent more on her shoes than your shares will be for a Gathering!  That’s how I know!”  It may only be reflected glory but I actually have some power now that I know how to take it, she thought as she went back to the Captain’s cabin.

She assessed her resources and set out three nested tray tables and matching comfortable chairs.  She cleared the chart table for a sideboard, carefully putting everything away in its proper place. She dressed herself in many layers of loose clothing, the inner ones being of seductive sheers.

The cooks arrived with the food trays, water and plates that she had requested.  She was setting the things up on the sideboard when Houfan spoke up diffidently.

“Ma’am, I wonder, what will you be tellin’ Captain Barad?  About the thing in the galley, I mean?”

She smiled calmly at him and replied, “Why, that you people stayed two drums past your watch to fix these snacks just for his entertainment. Should I say anything more?”

Gratitude filled his eyes as he said, “That would be fine, Ma’am.  Thank you … What are you going to do with the powdered sauce bases that you asked for?”

“I am going to use them to add flavor to the water, Houfan.  Thank you for remembering them.”  He left, almost at a run.

She got out the Captain’s best set of Three Dragons dice, dice boxes, the counters with their boards and the gaming tray, gridded with point spaces.  She was just finishing the setup when Morgu knocked at the open door frame.

Kurti smiled at him, “Come in!  I can’t tell you how much I look forward to this game!”  Won’t is more like it!  I am just getting used to Barad.  I didn’t expect anything like this!

Morgu looked her over in frank appreciation and replied, “Well, this is a change.  I’ve never seen the Captain’s door unlocked and unguarded before.”  He leered, “Nor an openly willing cabin-girl either.”

“The Captain’s door may have been unlocked, because we expected visitors but it is not unguarded.”  Still smiling, she pulled the large Strong Skin tooth dagger from her sash.

“He lets you be armed?” questioned Morgu, disturbed by the development.

“I do,” came the voice of Barad from the door, “I chose the knife for her personally.”  He had his arm about Selked’s shoulder as they came in.  “Where do you want us, Kurti?”

“Chose the chairs and tables that suit you,” she answered, handing the Captain the knife on the flat of her hand.  “I will bring the snacks for the first round.  We have red-weed bread, crab rolls and puffs and crunchy fish puffs in several flavors.  I can flavor your water too, either tart or sweet.”  For the next few minutes she was busy setting up plates and fetching flavored water.

“This is all very nice but where is the gaming table?” asked Morgu slightly petulantly.  The Captain doesn’t let me carry a knife around him!  Why does she get one?

Why, right here,” said Kurti kneeling in the center of the group of chairs and holding out the board in her hands.  She was  grinning with pleasure at the effect that she had created.  “Gentlemen, to your dice!”

Hard cubes of Wing Ray bone rattled in their cups and bounded about the board.  Each was engraved with pictures.  On opposite faces were a skelt and a Glue Fish, paddle duck and Wide Wing, sometimes known as a Sea Hawk, and Strong Skin paired to Lesser Sea Dragon.

As the dice came to rest, enthusiastic players leaned close.

“Ha! My paddle duck eats your Glue Fish!” Morgu said excitedly.

“Yes, but my Strong Skin eats you both!” cried the Captain in childlike glee.

“If you will look,” said Selked calmly, “my Glue Fish is on 45.  Your paddle duck is on twelve and the Strong Skin is only on fourteen. Glue Fish escapes with 19!  Pay up!”  Grumbling cheerfully they forfeited counters.

“Now, Morgu,” said the Captain, “will you pay me to escape or be eaten?”

“I’m eaten,” he said, shifting a peg down one hole on the ‘food’ board that also held his counters.

The next throw and the next followed suit.  As they were preparing for the fifth throw, Kurti announced, “This is a hand throw gentlemen. Are you ready?”

They Shook their dice boxes and threw.  The Captain threw another Strong Skin.  Morgu threw a Wide Wing and Selked threw a Dragon.

She called out cheerfully, “Hand throw, no point escapes.  Dragon eats all.  Pay Master Selked the points you are on and move one down the food board.  Master Selked, move two up and receive this prize!” She untied the loose collar of her first blouse and slid out of it, handing it to the startled Master.

“I see — One at each hand throw?  To the winner?”

“Yes,” she said smiling at the impression that she had made.

Looking carefully at how she was dressed, Morgu said, “This could be a long game.”

“Unless the Captain commands it otherwise, yes, it will be,” she replied. “More refreshments?”  Dragons help me!  I am actually enjoying this.  Whatever happens later, I’m having fun now!

The game went on its wild way, long into the night. The men were amazed at how many clothes one small lady could wear and still look good. And how transparent some of the last ones could be.

At last, there was only one short, transparent gown with a little Longin Lace trim.  As the hand throw came up, Kurti said, “This is the end of the game, Gentlemen.  There will be two hand throws.  Lowest is eaten and out of the game on the first throw, and the winner of the second will have this,” she fingered the diaphanous material, “and myself in his bed until morning watch is drummed.”

Dice rattled in cups and bounded about the board, thrown one at a time, to increase the suspense.  Morgu, as winner of the last hand threw first.  A Wide Wing.   Selked threw next.  The die rebounded twice off the edges of the board before coming to rest.  A dragon.  Barad’s throw hit the side and rolled over twice.  A Strong Skin.

Morgu was downcast until Kurti put down the board for a moment and said, “You deserve a consolation prize.”  She gave him a hug and a kiss.  “Have good dreams.  The game was well played.”

Taking up the board again, she held it to Master Selked.  He was so nervous that his throw nearly missed the board.  A Glue Fish.

Ruefully, he said, “Well Captain, it appears that you have kept your beauty.”

“I still have to make my throw to be sure.”  He cast his die.  A skelt.  They stared.  Barad leaned back in his chair and laughed a big hooting laugh.  When he calmed down, he turned to Selked.  “Never give up.  Just because your cast is low doesn’t mean the other guy can’t get lower!  Have a good night, you two!”

Kurti got a robe and slippers and went with Master Selked.

TO BE CONTINUED

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[liskantope]

I’ve just reread my collection of political articles written by H. L. Mencken, in the book A Carnival of Buncombe: Writings on Politics. These articles span early 1920 to late 1936, over five presidential elections.

Below are a few of the passages I found the most interesting, as a glimpse into American political culture during this period (although Mencken is overtly snobbish and somewhat bigoted -- far from an objective observer -- and seems remarkably obtuse about some pretty obvious things).

[This turned out long-ish. For me, the most interesting passage is the last one I quoted actually, although I’m not really sure if any of my followers would be that interested in any of it and this is for my own note-keeping as much as anything else.

After living abroad for a while, I’ve become increasingly interested in what is unique about American culture and common American mentalities, and it’s interesting to see the following musing from a century ago:

It seems to me that this fear of ideas is a peculiarly democratic phenomenon, and that it is nowhere so horribly apparent as in the United States, perhaps the nearest approach to an actual democracy yet seen in the world. It was Americans who invented the curious doctrine that there is a body of doctrine in every department of thought that every good citizen is in duty bound to accept and cherish; it was Americans who invented the right-thinker. The fundamental concept, of course, was not original. The theologians embraced it centuries ago, and continue to embrace it to this day. It appeared on the political side in the Middle Ages, and survived in Russia into our time. But it is only in the United States that it has been extended to all departments of thought. It is only here that any novel idea, in any field of human relations, carries with it a burden of obnoxiousness, and is instantly challenged as mysteriously immoral by the great masses of right-thinking men. It is only here, so far as I have been able to make out, that there is a right way and a wrong way to think about the beverages one drinks with one’s meals, and the way children ought to be taught in the schools, and the manner in which foreign alliances should be negotiated, and what ought to be done about the Bolsheviki.

- from “Bayard vs. Lionheart”, July 26th, 1920

On President Harding’s inaugural address (this, like many other things, makes me wonder what Mencken would have made of Trump):

I rise to pay my small tribute to Dr. Harding. Setting aside a college professor or two and half a dozen dipsomaniacal newspaper reporters, he takes the first place in my Valhalla of literati. That is to say, he writes the worst English that I have ever encountered. It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean-soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm (I was about to write abscess!) of pish, and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of post. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.

- from “Gamlielese”, March 7th, 1921

At the risk of being redundant, here is Mencken’s comment on the lack of defined policy differences between the two major parties as they existed in 1923:

Both [major political parties] have lost their old vitality, all their old reality; neither, as it stands today, is anything more than a huge and clumsy machine for cadging jobs. They do not carry living principles into their successive campaigns; they simply grab up anything that seems likely to make votes. The old distinctions between them have all faded out, and are now almost indiscernible. The Democrats are just as hot for centralization as the Republicans, and just as friendly towards a protective tariff; they stand together on the money question; there is no choice between them on the question of foreign policy; they are both wet and both dry.

The only reality that remains is their division on sectional lines. In the South the morons still vote the straight Democratic ticket. But even this brand begins to wear off. We have seen Maryland and Tennessee take to the fence; we have even seen some wobbling in Virginia and Texas. The time may come, and it may be soon, when the solid South will fall to pieces. Out of the wreck, I venture to believe, a new alignment of parties will come, and it will be based, not upon outworn traditions and shibboleths, but upon genuine differences of opinion. What those differences of opinion will be I do not risk prophecying, but it would not surprise me at all if one great party advocated the inspection and control of bootleggers by rigid Federal legislation, and the other, clinging to the tattered remains of local self-government, advocated licensing them by the commune.

- from “Next Year’s Struggle”, June 11th, 1923

Mencken’s (rather lofty and prejudiced) perception of cultural differences between rural and urban America and how they play into differing attitudes towards Prohibition (the Volstead Act):

Prohibition is essentially a yokel idea. It mirrors alike the farmer’s fear of himself and his envy of city men. Unable to drink at all without making a hog of himself, he naturally hates those who can. When a city man goes on a grand drunk, the police take charge of him humanely and he is restrained from doing any great damage. The worst that happens to him is that his wife beats him and he loses his job. But when a farmer succumbs to the jug his unmilked cows burst, his hogs and chickens starve, his pastor denounces him as an atheist (or even an Episcopalian), and he is ruined. Thus he favors Prohibition, especially if he is given to heavy drinking -- first because he hopes it will protect him against himself, and secondly because it harasses his superior and enemy, the city man...

I have never encountered a genuine city man, not obviously balmy, who was in favor of Prohibition. There seems to be something in the urban mentality that rebels against such imbecilities. Perhaps the fact is to be ascribed to familiarity with the police. The yokel, seeing policemen very seldom, retains a considerable fear of them, and a high respect for the laws behind them. But the city man takes the cops lightly, and the laws with them. He has no respect for laws as such; he respects them when they are useful and plausible. Such grotesque concoctions as the Volstead Act he knows to be neither.

The yokel’s answer to this sniffishness is that the city man is a scoundrel, and ought to be kept under restraint. His opposition to Prohibition, as the hedge pastors argue, is due to a consuming love of rum. But that argument quickly runs aground on the fact that the city man, despite the Eighteenth Amendment, still has all the rum he can consume. For he is not only contumacious; he is also ingenious, and knows how to beat laws that he dislikes. So the yokels and their spiritual advisers have to fall back on the doctrine that Prohibition is ordained of God, and is hence binding upon every good citizen, regardless of his private convictions. But the city man simply laughs at that. He observes that the chief agents of revelation are Methodist bishops, and that he has heard too much balderdash from them to have any confidence in them.

- from “Real Issues at Last”, July 23rd, 1928

Commentary on Herbert Hoover’s character just before his election, as I provided it in the comments section under the (very interesting) SSC post on Hoover:

The contrast [Al Smith] makes with his opponent is really appalling. Hoover stands at the opposite pole. He is a man of sharp intelligence, well schooled and familiar with the ways of the world, and more than once, in difficult situations, he has shown a shrewd competence, but where is character ought to be there is almost a blank. He is the perfect self-seeker, pushing and unconscionable; it is hard to imagine him balking at anything to get on. His principles are so vague that even his intimates seem unable to put them into words. He is an American who came within an inch of being an Englishman, a Republican who came within an inch of being a Democrat, a dry who came within an inch of being a wet. He is what is today because it has paid him well so far, and promises to pay still better hereafter.

- from “Al in the Free State”, October 29th, 1928

Now Mencken’s attempts to predict the results of the elections of 1932, in which he demonstrates how oblivious he was to the effects of the Great Depression on public sentiment:

That Dr. Hoover will be renominated by his party next year is as nearly certain as anything human can be, and that he will be reelected at the ensuing plebiscite is highly probable.

- from “The Hoover Bust”, May 18th, 1931

Barring acts of God of a revolting and unprecedented character, Mr. Hoover is almost as sure of reelection next year as he was of election in 1928... [Mencken argues in terms of several states that Hoover might lose but won’t need anyway.]

All this should be plain to anyone able to add and subtract. It is as obvious as that 2 and 2 equal 4.

- from “Hoover in 1932″, July 27th, 1931

Right before the election, Mencken finally recognized that Hoover was going to lose but seems to emphasize almost every other complaint against Hoover (particularly his acting on the wrong side of the Prohibition question) over his failure to cure the Depression:

My guess is that the thing which really finished the right hon. gentleman was his singularly disingenuous and unconvincing dealing with Prohibition.

- from “Pre-Mortem”, October 24th, 1932

I’ll end with the passage I found maybe the most interesting. Mencken had identified as a Democrat and enthusiastically voted Democrat in 1928 and 1932 (although he didn’t support the Democratic candidates in 1920 and 1924 and loathed the legendary Democrat William Jennings Bryan). But well before the end of FDR’s first term, he had turned against the president’s new-dealing ways. Here is an excerpt from his article on the eve of FDR’s reelection:

Nevertheless, and in spite of all Hell’s angels, I shall vote for the Hon. Mr. Landon tomorrow. To a lifelong Democrat, of course, it will be something of a wrench. But it seems to me that the choice is one that genuine Democrats are almost bound to make. On the one side are all the basic principles of their party, handed down from its first days and tried over and over again in the fires of experience; on the other side is a gallimaufry of transparent quackeries, puerile in theory and dangerous in practice. To vote Democratic this year it is necessary, by an unhappy irony, to vote for a Republican. But to vote with the party is to vote for a gang of mountebacks who are no more Democrats than a turkey buzzard is to an archangel.

This exchange of principles, with the party labels unchanged, is naturally confusing, abut it is certainly not so confusing that it goes unpenetrated. Plenty of Republicans who believe sincerely in a strong Federal Government are going to vote tomorrow for the Hon. Mr. Roosevelt, and plenty of Democrats who believe sincerely in the autonomy of the States and a rigid limitation of the Federal power are going to vote, as I shall, for the Hon. Mr. Landon. Whether the shift that confronts us will be be permanent remains to be seen. But while it lasts it is manifestly very real, and those who let party loyalties blind them to its reality will be voting very foolishly.

This is particularly interesting to me because it reflects an interpretation of the history of our political parties often claimed by Democrats: “The two parties switched places.” I’ve always been a little impatient with the simplistic way this is put (although of course it’s nowhere near as bad as Republicans, including the president, who love to imply that theirs is still the party of Lincoln out of one side of their mouths while idolizing Andrew Jackson, the founder of the Democratic party, out of the other). It’s not as though the parties one day just up and decided they wanted to switch names or switch positions. Mencken himself had pointed out in the early 20′s, in one of the passages I quoted further above, that there was little differentiating the two parties at the time apart from the demographic and geographic subgroups of Americans who formed their respective bases. Moreover, the Democratic party had been displaying somewhat of a fiscally progressive streak in the past few decades, arguably starting with William Jennings Bryan in 1896. (Although to be fair, the Republican party flirted with progressivism in a very big way thanks to Theodore Roosevelt, and none of this earlier progressivism looked that much like the revolution FDR was waging anyway.)

That said, if one had to point to a single turning point in history for Democrats and Republicans which played the greatest role in directing them towards where they are today, the early 30′s with FDR’s New Deal is probably the most reasonable choice, and Mencken’s above contemporary commentary is evidence supporting this.

[letterboxd]

Locked In.

The director of new documentary Spaceship Earth on snark, queer cinema, the survival of our species, and the ten films he’d take into a biosphere.

In 1991, eight people entered a vivarium to conduct a two-year experiment on whether humans could become fully self-sufficient inside a closed system on this—or any other—planet. Calling themselves the Synergists, the small collective, led by a charismatic chap named John Allen, had backgrounds in theater, art, science and business, and they became media superstars for a short period of time.

With much of the world sheltering in place in cramped apartments, many of us can only dream of being locked-down inside a human-scale terrarium complete with lush gardens, creative friends and a cook as inventive as Biospherian Sally Silverstone. Biosphere 2, which still stands on a ranch in Arizona, looks really inviting right now.

But there are complexities, tensions and controversies in an experiment like this, as documentarian Matt Wolf explores in his new film Spaceship Earth, which blends fantastic archive footage and present-day interviews to bring those two years to light.

Biospherians (left to right): Bernd Zabel, Taber MacMullen (top) Mark Van Thillo, Jane Poynter, Linda Leigh, Roy Walford (middle), Abigail Alling and Sally Silverstone (bottom) posing inside Biosphere 2 in 1990. / Photo courtesy of NEON

Wolf talks with Letterboxd’s editor-in-chief Gemma Gracewood about the lessons we can learn from the Biospherians amidst the Covid-19 pandemic, the ten films he’d take into a biosphere with him, and the dangers of ignoring young people.

How (and where) are you during this pandemic? Matt Wolf: I’m doing well. I’m in my living room in the Lower East Side of New York, where I am every day, and I’m doing okay because I'm throwing myself into this film release. It’s been a real relief to have something to do instead of just reading the news and being trapped at home. The timing is uncanny, but I’m seizing the moment. I’m very happy to be participating and doing lots of virtual events and promoting the film so that people will watch it, because I hope that it will give some perspective for what we’re going through.

That’s the next obvious question: how did your work on Spaceship Earth prepare you for this extraordinary moment, and what advice do you have for those of us sheltering in our own tiny biospheres? It’s funny. My producer Stacey Reiss says the Biospherians were in their world for two years; we were in our filmmaking bubble for two years, too. And so, we could relate in that way but we never thought we would relate so vividly to that experience. And I think, you know, talking to the Biospherians, something that they relayed was that it really was a transformative experience, because they were responsible for creating their own atmosphere, for producing the food they needed to eat, and they really couldn’t take anything for granted—even a breath of fresh air. So when they came out they felt a renewed connection to the larger world, and a different sense of responsibility and consequence for their actions.

I hope that in some ways we all feel transformed by this experience, and it allows us to engage with the world in a different way, because we’re going to have to think and act differently now that we really understand in a visual sense how fragile the world really is.

The exterior of Biosphere 2. / Photo courtesy of NEON

Yes, it feels like the Earth is breathing. It’s such an interesting time. Yeah. I think we need to make a connection between climate change and what’s happening now. If we don’t change how we behave, the threat of long-term catastrophe is inevitable. Not to take this to a dark place, but it’s true.

From a filmmaking perspective, we’re living in a time where, with social media and smartphones, we are creating our own content every second of every day. One thing that’s endlessly fascinating about archive-based films like yours, is how lucky we are to have had people—who were not necessarily filmmakers themselves—document these extraordinary experiences. What was it like when you first started diving into that footage? I’m actually always on the lookout for stories that have a strong basis in archival material that can help activate them and bring them into the present. I was certainly determined to tell this story; it was extraordinary and I knew there was a great deal of media coverage. But when I went to meet the Synergists at their ranch, I was brought into this temperature-controlled room that had hundreds of 16mm film canisters, analog video cassettes, thousands of images; it was astonishing that they had had the foresight to not only document what they were doing but also to preserve it in such a meticulous way.

To me it was an indication that they recognized that what they were doing was history, but also kind of poignant because nobody had taken an interest in that archive and tapped into it, so it felt like an incredible opportunity, but also a responsibility as well. It would have been a much less potent film had we not had that material as well as the video diaries that Biospherian Roy Walford shot inside.

For me, it is unprecedented to be able to tell a story—particularly a story with so many narrative twists and turns—that has archival footage that covers literally every beat of the story. I don’t expect that to happen often in my filmmaking career! This was an extraordinary situation.

Biospherian Linda Leigh and tourists. / Photo courtesy of NEON

Okay Matt, you’re heading into the Biosphere, with no internet, and you can only take ten films with you. What are the films that you’d pack to take? To help you choose, we’ll give you some guidelines. What’s the movie you’ve watched the most? I would say the movie I’ve watched the most, ever, is Todd Haynes’ movie Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story. It was a movie made with Barbie dolls about Karen Carpenter’s life. I have just watched that movie over and over and over again, and it’s a bootleg movie because the Carpenter estate suppressed it. It’s one of those things made of lore, in which people exchanged low-quality file transfers, and I got my hands on a high-quality restoration recently. I love showing it to people who haven’t seen it, and it’s a total joy to watch that movie. That is the movie that I would definitely need to have access to if I could never see anything again.

Can you name a favorite documentary; one that has meaning for you? Every once in a while I watch this documentary that really is in some ways my favorite. To me it’s like taking a bath to watch this film, a bath for my brain. It’s called A Skin Too Few: The Days of Nick Drake. I’ve only been able to find it on YouTube; it’s not in distribution. I’m a fan, but the film is just made in such a delicate and visually precise way. It represents the type of filmmaking that I really love. It’s seemingly straightforward as a documentary, but I think in its subtlety it is really just a soothing and absorbing film.

What’s the film you’d take to entertain your fellow Biospherians on a Friday night? One of my favorites from when i was a kid that I think would be fun to watch on a Friday night is Troop Beverly Hills. If you want just like cotton candy, that would be my version of that.

Shelley Long and her Wilderness Girls in ‘Troop Beverly Hills’ (1989).

A film for the inevitable long, lonely, insomniac nights? If I was feeling depressed and lonely, and like really leaning into those feelings of isolation, maybe like Fassbinder’s Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. I remember that as being a film that was at once devastating but also comforting. Just about human connection and human alienation. I just think it’s so deep and true.

What about a film that you like to impress people with because of the way it looks, or makes you feel? One of my favorite movies that I just love to show to people because it’s so amazing—well, there’s two that fit into that category, movies that are fun to show people because they are unbelievable and true. One is Hail the New Puritan by the artist Charlie Atlas. It’s a documentary about Michael Clark, a kind of punk ballet dancer from London in the 80s, who collaborated with Leigh Bowery and The Fall. Charlie, the filmmaker, made it in the model of A Hard Day’s Night, the Beatles vehicle, and it follows this gay punk ballet dancer on his nightlife and pseudo-celebrity adventures through 80s punk London.

And then my other film that is too good to be true is A Bigger Splash [the 1973 Jack Hazen documentary, not the 2015 Luca Guadagnino feature], which is a similarly constructed documentary about David Hockney that feels like a fiction film staged with all the characters from his orbit during the height of his popularity in swinging London. It’s such a great depiction of an artist’s life and it’s completely baffling how the filmmaker was able to generate such access and to construct a film that feels so dramatized.

What film has had the biggest impact on you, whether for its meaning or for its execution? One of the films that had a big effect on me and that I really think the communal experience is central to, is Derek Jarman’s film Blue. He made it when he was dying of AIDS and it’s a lush soundscape with a kind of like non-linear stream of thoughts coming from Derek Jarman, and a beautiful soundscape, with material from Brian Eno. It’s a feature-length film where the screen is just blue. Every time that film screens in the cinema, I take the opportunity to go because it’s almost a religious experience. A cinematic religious experience. I feel really moved by it but it also is something to share with other people, in an unusual way.

And a film that’s stuck with you since you were young? American Family—the documentary series that gave birth to reality TV. In the 1970s Alan and Susan Raymond made this epic PBS cinema-vérité series that followed this upper-middle-class San Diego, Californian family. In one episode, their son Lance Loud moves to New York and is living at the Chelsea Hotel and his mum comes to visit and he comes out of the closet. It is a unique, different world, many of the Andy Warhol superstars are there. It [felt like] the first time a gay person had appeared on television and the drama unfolds over many episodes.

It was this huge controversy, people thought they were disgusting and perverse for putting their lives on television like this, but it also is kind of mundane and boring, just like a lot of the early cinema vérité, but it really laid the groundwork for what would become reality television, except it’s not constructed for the camera in the way that we expect these shows to be. I like watching serialized family stories like that, and this is the foundation of it.

What’s a recent queer film you’d take in with you? There’s this movie I was obsessed with. I just thought of it the other day: Saint Laurent, by Bertrand Bonello. It came out a few years ago and it’s a completely narcotic, kaleidoscopic biopic, and I think it’s so rare that biopics actually inhabit the psyches of their famous protagonist and that the actors don’t just feel like they’re doing pantomime. This film really captures not only the disintegrating psychology of Yves Saint Laurent, but also the context of the gay subcultures of Paris in 1970s and the 80s. It’s this super-vivid depiction of subculture, but through a very narcotic lens. I just was obsessed with that film. It’s not really considered ‘queer film’, I think it’s more considered a biopic, but to me it’s one of the more interesting depictions of queer culture in recent years.

Gaspard Ulliel as Yves Saint Laurent in Bertrand Bonello’s ‘Saint Laurent’ (2014).

And finally, a fond, family-viewing memory? I always loved Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. I mean, I wouldn’t say it’s one of my favorite films but every time I see it, it’s like, “Oh, I get why I was obsessed with that as a kid”. I love the visual world and Gene Wilder is so bizarre and a little creepy. If you look at it as an adult there’s something kind of perverse about it, but I love a kind of analog fantasy world! So that film is, you might say, delicious.

You could say Spaceship Earth is a kind of analog fantasy world—the Biosphere itself is a living fantasy. I’m interested to know what you’d say to younger film lovers of today about what they might get out of seeing these avant-garde theater-makers-turned-Biospherians of yesterday? This film is more targeted towards younger people. I feel like there is a certain cynicism amongst adults that completely discounts young people and their ability to reimagine the world in creative ways. This is something I really dealt with in my film Teenage, the history of the invention of teenagers: adults always try to control young people. They corral the inventiveness of young people and the languages that they speak and invent. Young people all fight back, trying to define the world on their own terms, and this is really a film about a group of people who came together in their 20s and decided to reimagine and redefine, literally, a new world. There are all sorts of forces of establishment that tried to stop them and question and discount them.

We live in a world that’s pretty cynical and brings a lot of skepticism to people who try to do things differently, and I think as a 20-year-old you might see yourself in the idealism of these unusual people. Don’t you think that’s true? That, like, 20-year-olds aren’t as snarky and cynical? I feel like 20-year-olds are earnest and sincere and idealistic. Maybe I’m out of touch, but that was my experience and part of what I’ve observed in other young people.

I just feel like that ‘snarkiness’ that is often represented in the media is the cynicism that comes with the bitterness of life experience. And when you’re young and don’t have hardships and disappointments that have maybe hardened you with a certain kind of cynicism, it is possible to think more expansively and more optimistically about the world. We really need to tap into that energy. It’s not really helpful at this moment to, I don’t know, to shoot down anyone who’s trying something new. I hadn’t thought about that, but I'd be really curious what young people think of the film.

That’s a useful perspective, and makes me think of how, over the last couple of years, we have seen so much grassroots activism from young people, and now with the global lockdown there’s been a quieting of the youth climate movement, at least out there on the streets. You’re totally right. It was this big loud wave of activity and now with the pandemic it has really been washed over. But what they're talking about is long-term consequences, and if we don’t address the underlying issues that have related to the collapse of our society as a result of uncontrollable environmental factors, the survival of our species is threatened.

Related content

Matt Wolf’s 10 Films for Quarantine on Letterboxd

20 Films for Earth Day 2020

10 Great Space Science Films

‘Spaceship Earth’ is available for virtual screenings and on streaming services now. Our thanks to NEON.

[carmenxjulia]

You Never Did Get My Name Ch8

Title: You Never Did Get My Name, Chapter 8

Description: Just casually sleep in the same bed as if it doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine.

[Read on AO3]

Carmen thrashed in her sleep, anxious dreams filling her subconscious. Her breath came in rasps, as if she was fighting to get enough air. The commotion eventually roused Julia, when her houseguest's movements removed the comforter from her body.

"Carmen? Carmen?" Julia's hand was on her shoulder, trying to wake her, or at least, draw her far enough out of her subconscious that she settled down. Her skin was damp with sweat, and Julia at first pulled back when she felt the unexpected dampness. "Carmen!" she called, louder.

That was enough to send her bolting upright, whirling on the agent and knocking her back with her shoulder, slamming her balled-up hand into the pillow Julia was laying on, barely missing a direct hit.

Julia yelped, bringing her fists up to shield her face, startled by the unprecedented attack. She waited with bated breath for Carmen's next move, unsure if she was still asleep and dreaming somehow. She stared up at her in the darkness, trying to determine if she should say something or even if she should move at all. She could call her name again, but that might trigger another strike. One that might not miss.

It suddenly became painfully obvious to Julia that she didn't actually know Carmen all that well. Yes, they'd met a couple of times, had intriguing conversations, and even talked about their personal lives a bit. But before they'd met, for all Julia knew Chief and Chase were right, and Carmen Sandiego really was a villain. She had already admitted she stole things in order to return them to their rightful owners, and Julia had bought that. There was evidence it was true, but, there was still a real possibility that she was wrong. And regardless of how she felt, in reality she had invited an international criminal to stay the night.

Carmen's eyes widened in the darkness, as the fog of sleep lifted and she remembered where she was and who she was with. "Sorry, I- I-" she didn't know what to say. She'd never shared a bed with anyone in her life that she could recall. She'd never woken up from a nightmare and not been completely alone, left to pace by herself in an empty hotel room or walk the dark streets trying to clear her head. This type of companionship was so new and foreign and Carmen almost didn't realize her fist was still planted firmly in the pillow and her legs were on either side of Julia, essentially straddling her.

"I'm sorry," she quickly moved off, sliding as far as she could to the other side of the bed. She rested her back against the headboard, curling her knees against her chest as she concentrated on evening out her breathes and returning her heart rate to normal. She'd done a lot of these calming exercises in the past several weeks.

"Bad dream?" Julia's warm, inviting voice pierced the darkness. She propped herself up on her elbow and turned in the direction of her guest.

"Maybe I should go," she ran a hand through her wild mane of hair. "I don't think I'll be getting anymore sleep tonight."

"I can stay up with you, if you'd like."

"You don't have to do that. You need your rest."

"You need it more. You're still recovering."

"Touché."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's nothing, really. I've been in plenty of close encounters. I've taken hits from enemies. Fallen off moving vehicles. Jumped from buildings. I never had nightmares about any of that. I never felt afraid until-"

Carmen paused, wondering how much of her life she should let spill out to Julia. Still unsure if she could trust her. And yet, what reason did she even have not to trust her? Julia Argent, special agent of A.C.M.E., and technically her enemy, had not only agreed to meet up with her once, but twice. And this second time, she'd invited her to her personal residence, actively going out of her way to show she cared by asking her to stay the night. If anything, Julia had every right to be offended, given how much faith and trust she'd put in Carmen, if she had actually known about the conflict going on inside of her head.

"It's fine," she continued. "I didn't die so I shouldn't- I shouldn't be so focused on it. It's over. I know I need to be more careful. I've taken the situation and learned from it. I just got over that coat dream, now this? It's like I can't stop thinking about it. I can't get it out of my head I- I need to get back in the field so I can get focused again. Keep my mind off things."

"Running away won't solve your problems."

Something in what Julia said resonated with Carmen. Running away from the island was what got her here. Running away from V.I.L.E. agents was what got Chase captured. Running from the authorities was why she constantly had to be in hiding. She was always trying to escape from something, someone. Enemies, her past, her feelings. But no matter how much she ran, she never felt like she had gone far enough. She never felt free. No matter where she went, V.I.L.E. would always be a part of her.

"Then what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to-" she stopped, and Julia noted her voice had gotten thicker near the end, a little more hoarse, like some trace of emotion was about to bubble to the surface.

Carmen swallowed the lump in her throat, but her mouth still felt dry.

"-to cope, knowing one of my best friends doesn't even know who I am? Knowing what they did to him is probably my fault. Knowing I put people like Chase in danger, just by their association with me. How can I know I'm not in bed with the enemy? How can I know who to trust? How do I know someone else won't get hurt because of me?"

Julia felt around in the darkness for Carmen's hand, because it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. She clasped it in her own, giving a comforting squeeze to try to reassure the woman next to her. She had yet to have a near-death experience (although given her line of work, she was sure it was only a matter of time), and knew she couldn't begin to imagine the psychological repercussions of such an event.

But empathy, she had, and could offer consolation even if she didn't fully understand. "I'm not your enemy," she began, "I never wanted to be. We both seem to want to do good in the world, just in very different ways. I may not entirely agree with your approach, but, it is often more effective than the efforts of local law enforcement, interpol, or even A.C.M.E. And there are others you work with, right? Your team? They must believe in you and your cause.

"Sometimes bad things happen to the people you care about. You can't always be there to protect them. And the only way to protect yourself from feeling like things are your fault is to stop caring about anyone. What kind of life is that? We can't just stop caring. About the people we know. Those we don't, but are trying to protect. You can't blame yourself all the time. People get hurt; on purpose, on accident. It's not your fault. It can be hard to accept things that are out of your control, but eventually you have to. Otherwise you'll spend your whole life worrying, and you still won't be able to control what's happening all around you."

Carmen let out a long, slow breath as she processed all of what Julia had said. She squeezed Julia's hand, acknowledging its presence and silently communicating her gratitude to the agent. She felt the appendage in her own, the weight, the smoothness; and the feeling that stirred somewhere inside her as she became acutely aware of the touch. She was always so perceptive of the world around her, the people passing by, the way the wind moved the leaves on the trees, how footsteps sounded or the distant barking of a dog. Minute details that others missed were crucial to her precarious escapes, and it was part of what made her the best at V.I.L.E.

"Why am I here?"

"I'm not sure I'm prepared to handle such an existential question at 4 in the morning-"

"No. Why am I here? In your apartment? In your bed? You've been chasing after me and I've been avoiding you and now we're just pretending like none of that happened? Acting like your job isn't being compromised and my friends aren't in danger because of our association?"

"You're the one who initiated contact and suggested we leave out our conflicting lines of work."

"Yeah. I did," Carmen let out a single "ha" in the dark, that sounded halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "And you, you didn't report me to Interpol or A.C.M.E. or anyone. Why?"

Julia had already asked herself that question, earlier in the week, while anticipating the arrival of the super thief. "You haven't tried to hurt me, so I suppose I haven't had a reason to. And I believe you're doing good work, even if your methods are unorthodox. What do you gain by stealing from thieves and returning the items without asking any sort of compensation?"

"It has to do with people from my past. They exploit those less fortunate. It's not always about paintings or documents or artifacts. Sometimes it's about trying to starve entire nations to gain control of them. Sometimes it's about destroying pieces of history. The crimes that make the headlines are just the tip of the iceberg. They're actually the ones I worry about the least. Normally when they steal things they avoid all confrontation with any kind of security. In, and out, silently. Nobody gets hurt. But there are other times when they want to hurt a whole lot of people, risk lives for the sake of their own gain. Their operation is much bigger than thefts of material items."

"That sounds like work talk," Julia yawned, too drowsy to fully grasp the severity of the implications of V.I.L.E.'s operations.

"What can I say. I trust you, Jules."

There was something in the way she said "Jules", like the word was just a bit more fragile and tender than the rest of her sentence. Or perhaps it was the admission that there was indeed a necessary level of integrity between them. She was certain she trusted Carmen Sandiego- she must, since she had freely offered the woman her home address, and now her personal sleeping quarters.

But something made her hesitate, so instead of saying, I trust you too, Carmen, she said, "Thank you, Carmen."

"Hm."

A quiet settled between them, because Julia had insisted Carmen stay, and Carmen had obliged. Staying didn't mean falling back asleep was going to be any easier, even as Julia's soft breathing helped to calm Carmen's nerves. It was nice, she decided, to wake up after a bad dream and not be alone. Sure, she'd always been able to call Player, but the physical presence of another was an entirely different experience.

"How do you usually get back to sleep after a nightmare?"

"I don't, usually. I just get up and start planning for the next mission. There's always time to sleep later."

"What about when you were younger, then? Did your guardian have any remedies or rituals for dealing with bad dreams?"

"Not really," Carmen replied. Comfort hadn't really been in the curriculum at V.I.L.E. Used to dealing with adults, the faculty at the school weren't exactly prepared to care for a child. As for her nannies, well, their role was more that of tutors, and their duties ended at a certain point in the day. Plus, none of them stayed very long, so Carmen never really grew attached. Perhaps that was intentional on the part of V.I.L.E., preventing her from forming close bonds with anyone from the outside.

She thought of Coach Brunt, who she had looked to as a motherly figure for so many years. Who was always so kind and caring towards her. All the times she'd defended her, and how she trained her to be tough. And then she tried to kill her.

Turned out it was Shadowsan, the teacher who always gave her the coldest shoulder, who had found her. Did that make him her father? Carmen didn't exactly have experience with a nuclear family. She'd never called anyone "mom" or "dad" while growing up. But she did have parents, somewhere. Someone had conceived her, two decades ago.

Julia struggled with trying to say the right thing. The topic of parentage appeared to be a touchy subject, and it seemed the general upbringing of Miss Sandiego would have to remain a mystery for now. From how dodgy she'd been regarding the matter, Julia speculated the people who had raised Carmen might somehow be connected to V.I.L.E. What sort of business did a League of Evil have with rearing a child? Were there others out there like Carmen, brought up by thieves to do their dirty work? Is that where its members came from? Children, stolen away and fostered as future villains?

"That's too bad," was what she managed to come up with. "When I was little, my mother would hum softly while she brushed my hair."

"When I couldn't sleep I'd sneak around and explore," Carmen tried to be vague on the details of V.I.L.E. Isle. Maybe set up some pranks for the new recruits, she thought, but didn't say aloud. Julia already knew too much about her association with the organization, and she had to be careful. Even though she had decided to put her trust in her, the more Julia knew about her past, the more at risk they both were.

"No one ever tucked you back into bed and read you a story or sang you a lullaby?"

"No. The island was a safe haven, away from the rest of the world. I didn't feel like anything could hurt me there. Dreams were just dreams, not reality."

"But isn't it reassuring to have someone there for you when you're having a bad night?"

"I guess I wouldn't know what that's like."

Julia couldn't imagine not having the comfort of a parent. Even now, if she was going through a rough patch in her life, her mother and father were just a phone call away. Although she still did not know the full history of Carmen's childhood, she gathered that she did not have a typical upbringing. Perhaps that helped explain her preference for working around the law, instead of with it. Still, she didn't seem too upset that she hadn't grown up in anything resembling a nuclear family.

"Would you like to try?"

"What?"

"My mother's routine."

"How do you mean?"

"Come over here and lay in my lap and see if you can fall back asleep."

Carmen considered for a moment. There wasn't any harm, was there? Julia had bade her to stay, earlier this evening and when she'd woken up minutes earlier. If she wasn't going to leave, she might as well make the most of the night. And she had to admit, she was curious what it might be like to have some form of normalcy in her life. From what she'd researched and observed, there had never been anything normal about her life. After all, she was the first and only child to grow up on V.I.L.E. isle. But she was happy then, and she had to admit, opposing V.I.L.E. and seeking adventure brought her happiness now.

"Is this alright?" she asked, head coming to rest in the crook where Julia's torso met her legs.

"Mhmm," Julia responded, lightly running her fingers through wavy red hair.

Carmen relaxed, letting herself melt into the touch as Julia began to hum. She felt completely at ease, for what seemed like the first time in her life. Interpol, A.C.M.E., Brunt, and V.I.L.E., all faded away as drowsiness returned to her. Julia had been correct. There was absolutely something soothing about being sung to sleep. For a brief moment, Carmen wondered what it might be like if this became a repeated occurence. If they might meet again, at another time, in another place. Or how their lives might be different if they could be like this forever, and didn't have to go their separate ways. But such frivolous thoughts washed away as she nodded off and returned to dreamland.

Julia, meanwhile, was contemplating how she got here. Perhaps the lack of commitment contributed to her answering Carmen Sandiego's initial message. Maybe it was because Carmen had initiated the first move. But this couldn't last. This probably wasn't meant to extend beyond the first meeting at the coffee shop, but, here they were. Soon, they would have to return to their lives and their jobs and their casual rendezvous would come to an end.

"Carmen?" she said, softly.

But there was no response, aside from the light sound of her breathing. Julia exhaled, letting herself relax. This situation was certainly… atypical, for her at least. Other than work, Julia mostly kept to herself. She was too busy traveling to really build any solid friendships close to home, and anyway, she preferred to spend her off time reading or refining her other hobbies.

Julia delicately slid back down in her bed, so as not to disturb her guest. Here she was, in a position she would have never imagined herself in. Carmen Sandiego, resting on her shoulder, forehead brushing against her neck. Their fingers intertwined. When did that happen? she wondered sleepily, not that it really mattered. She yawned once more, letting her eyes fall closed. Maybe this couldn't last. So what? At least they had the night, and, if she was lucky, breakfast in the morning. As she drifted off to sleep, her head leaning against Carmen's, she hoped she'd be lucky.

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[pointlessutility]

Deciphering rise of BTS through their content

Korean Culture

Koreans are deeply influenced by the Confucian philosophy, which emphasizes cultivated knowledge in comparison to creativity and a collectivistic society. Which is quite different from the Western thought.

Despite the political unrest after the Korean War that resulted in the division of the region, these two countries still share the same culture and traditional values.

The French Institut national de l'audiovisuel defines K-pop as a "fusion of synthesized music, sharp dance routines and fashionable, colorful outfits”. Songs typically consist of one or a mixture of pop, rock, hip hop, R&B, and electronic music genres.

The Confucian thought has a huge influence on Eastern political ideas; shaping the moral system, the way of life, social relations between old and young and their work ethic.

This gives us some insight about the highly systemized, regulated k-pop industry owned by three big names YG, SM JYP. That control every aspect of artist’ career to control publishing, licensing and advertising and in the end operating a star-making academy leaving the artist with no creative freedom.  These trainees are put through years of intense musical and chorographical training; they have to sacrifice all guarantees of personal freedom, sleep and comfort. These trainees are monitored for height, weight and figure; they are put through extreme diet regimes, sometimes get plastic surgery done to resemble anime like body proportions. --- to produce idol groups designed to present the very highest standards of beauty, dance, and musicality in Korean popular music.

Korean pop stars have become cultural icons in the region and globally.

Kpop and BTS:

The Korean Wave Hallyu refers to the global popularity of South Korea’s cultural economy exporting pop culture, entertainment, music, TV dramas and movies since 1990s. And since 2000, the Korean government invests great sums in the country’s pop culture to appeal to an international audience. The South Korean government has dedicated a department solely to K-pop to promote the music in Korea and beyond.

It was within this environment that in 2010, a man named Bang Si-hyuk began to quietly build a different kind of studio, and to cultivate the band that would become BTS. His belief is to give the members creative freedom to work on solo tapes, producing and writing. BTS was first launched in 2013.

Where other modern day boy/girl bands have stuck to singing about love and heartache, from the beginning he has encouraged BTS to tell personal stories, and made it imperative to speak about things the group is feeling individually, in a whole that is the reason for the socially critical and introspective lyrics. Honest musical expression of one’s creative anxieties — would become a crucial element of BTS. 

BTS is inspired by a hip-hop trio called Seo Taiji & Boys in 1990s who challenged norms around musical styles, song topics, fashion, and censorship, which was unprecedented for a culture whose musical production had spent the past few decades subjected to strict government oversight. They are considered pioneers of rebel music against the system in K-pop.

Seo Taiji, who’s been called the ‘Culture President, recently proclaimed Bangtan Sonyeondan (BTS) to be the true heirs of the original Korean pop ethos he gave birth to decades previously. While collaborating with BTS on his 25th anniversary on his song “ Classroom Idea”, which criticizes the oppressive education system of Korea. This song was written by Seo Taiji in 1994 when all teenagers were forced to stay in school from 7 am to 9 pm. For people without a college degree it would be hard to get jobs, they’d be treated as underdogs, paid no respect, and kept invisible in the society. (Video will be played and explain from it)

Education is considered crucial because of the Confucian tradition of respecting, learning and the particular national desire for greater achievements.

From BTS’ 2013 album O!RUL8,2? song N.O. also talks about students being overwhelmed by the expectations placed on them by elders, and the effect it has on their mental wellbeing. (in relation with the education system, BTS also has a song for it)

Then their 2015 album The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Part 2; entails one of their most political song “Silver Spoon” or “Baepsae” it’s a bird in Korea translated as “Crow Tit” which is a small bird, considered as a weak one compared to a stork, crow tit has short legs and a stork has very long legs. The idiom goes “ a crow tit following a a stork will tear its legs”. Meaning when you try to do something out of your reach or capabilities you are likely to fail. Here storks are referring to people in power; big companies, conglomerates and the older generations. The crow tit being the younger generation. (they flap their hands like birds in their choreography).

They also use the metaphor of a teacher to refer to the older generation who are born with a golden spoon. So during the age of the storks or baby boomers (Baby boomer is a term used to describe a person who was born between 1946 and 1964) in South Korea they were experiencing huge economic growth and was extremely easy to get jobs, housing etc. But the economy of South Korea is now maturing and the side effects of ultra-fast economic growth have boomeranged to haunt the current generation. Millenials are facing high pricing of houses as well as high disparity between the rich and the poor and also all-time high youth unemployment.

Lyric, ‘Passion pay’ is a common practice in Korean society where companies pay young workers below minimum wage or nothing at all in return for experience. (lyrics will be shown in slide)

Speaks much about our society’s treatment to interns who go into the field to work. And the ‘given up generation’ saying that millennials are the generation who have given up on what may be considered as basic human rights and wants because of extreme high youth unemployment rates. 

Sam-po-sadae (show the lyrics here) (read from ppt and explain these things gen Z has given up on). Millennial's giving up of romantic relationships, marriage, children, proper employment, homes, and social life in the face of economic difficulties and societal ills while facing condemnation from the media and older generations.

Then they go on to say that they want to change the system. Like this is not a normal situation. Society is sick but it also says we are not at the top yet and we have to push further. (video played and then this is explained).

Then BTS addresses how the older generation blames the millenials for their struggles saying that it is due to the lack of effort. Baby boomers seem to neglect the fact how society is completely different now compared to when they were growing up, also their economic situation is different. Saying that a lot of the problems millenials face today were infact caused by the baby boomers. But they seem to ignore this fact and tell the crow tits to work harder, try harder, put more effort.

Moving on to to their newer album “Wings”, song Blood Sweat tears, which is rich in literary and art references. Wings album is based on “Demian” a 1919 Herman Hesse novel that explore the psyche of the narrator as he grows up and loses his innocence and is on a journey to find himself. The ideologies presented in Demian are heavily influenced by the German philosopher Nietzsche. Nietzsche often wrote about the creation of the self. And more of his ideas in grounds of self-realization is central to Demian. (video playing in bg) There are motifs of mentorship shown in the video when each younger member is paired with an elder one. Jin the oldest member seen standing alone admiring the painting of the fall of rebel angels, the battle between good and evil. While gazing at this painting, Bminor plays in the background. Jin stands between two door, black and white, one good one evil. In Demian, Sinclair finds some freedom when Demian introduces him that the world cannot be categorized in binary such as good and evil. But rather there is good in all evil and evil in all good.

This concept is represented by the God called Abraxas, the god is nor good or evil but rather the affirmation of the existence of both. Saying that Sinclair will never find himself if he only acknowledges the realm of light he must seek knowledge and learn of both realms.

On the surface level one would say the song is about the dangers of temptation but through the imageries a lot of symbolism is shown, allusions from multiple sources of literature each symbol works harmoniously to create a larger system of meaning.

And their latest album Map of the Soul: Persona, based on archetypes of Carl Jung; is where they identify their stage persona as one part of their whole identities.

So as we see every succeeding album of BTS, one would witness the gradual growth of its members. With group and solo songs of each artist addressing issues like depression, anxiety, social and political injustice. Every member’s own identity plays a crucial role in building themes and concepts for their albums. And how they face these experiences that life brings them is translated in their albums.

Bringing us to the question, what is the machinery behind this idol group?

This boy band is still under a company which has its own producers. Bang-si-Hyuk (the founder), Pdogg (in house producer), Slow Rabbit (producer), Adora,Supreme Boi are the main producers. Main choreographer is Son Sung-deuk and J-Hope (member) takes part in choreography too (as he was a stret dancer earlier). Some members of the group have been credited as producers, RM, Suga, J-Hope and Jungkook.

The Korea Music Copyright Association attributes over 130 songs to RM as songwriter, composer, also including writing for member Jimin's solo song "Promise". The Korea Music Copyright Association attributes over 85 songs to Suga as a songwriter and composer. Suga won the 2017 MAMA (Mnet Asian Music Awards) best producer award for the song Wine. J-Hope produced his mixtape ‘Hope World’. Jungkook produced Magic Shop.

The group’s high-quality visual productions, largely produced by South Korean creative agency Lumpens, are frequently related to the themes of the band’s music. The agency has produced the visuals for some of their hits like Idol, DNA, Serendipity, I NEED U, Fake Love (Forbes article)

Pdogg production in "Love Yourself: Tear" with BTS hit the Billboard 200 albums chart and was nominated for Grammy Awards.

In an interview he was asked, to drop a hint about the sort of music BTS will come up in the future.

He replied, because a new series has started with ‘Love Yourself 承 Her’, we are planning to continue that. After that, [the decisions] will change based on BTS’ situation and the members’ sentiments at that point. The members put a lot of effort to make sure their characteristics can be shown through their music’.

The concept and themes the group work on for their albums come from them. Though the production may not be solely done by them. The ideas originated from the members are worked upon by the members alongside the company.  The ultimate example of the members’ creative independence from their company is their personally composed, freely released mixtapes. They reflect each member’s individual personalities and creative orientations.

Bang-si-Hyuk gave BTS autonomy to run their own Twitter and vlog from their studio, and for the rappers to write alongside Big Hit’s in-house production team.

Since 2000, the Korean government invests great sums in the country’s pop culture to appeal to an international audience. The South Korean government has dedicated a department solely to K-pop to promote the music in Korea and beyond. These cultural exports have benefited the economy and country. BTS have become the youngest ever recipients of the Hwagwan (Korea’s) Orders of Cultural Merit for their services to the promotion of Korean pop culture and Hangul, the Korean alphabet.

How is bts so popular?

“We came together with a common dream to write, dance and produce music that reflects our musical backgrounds as well as our life values of acceptance, vulnerability and being successful,” said BTS’s leader, RM, in a 2017 interview with Time. Their latest record, Map of the Soul: Persona, made them the second group in history to have three No. 1 albums in a single year—the first was the Beatles.

There are six main ways BTS breaks with established precedent for K-pop boy bands to carry out this mission:

·        They frequently write their own songs and lyrics.

·        Their lyrics are socially conscious and especially attuned to describing the pressures of modern teen life in South Korea.

·        They create and manage most of their own social media presence.

·        They aren’t signed to “slave contracts,” nor do their contracts have the grueling restrictions of other idol groups.

·        They tend to focus on marketing entire albums rather than individual singles.

·        They talk openly about the struggles and anxieties of their career instead of presenting an extremely polished image at all times. (To be said- Rap Monster also differentiated the group by taking an open stand in favor of LGBT rights, a topic which is still highly incendiary in South Korea. Idols typically don’t take sides in such topics.)

A lot of these elements have been present in other k-pop groups- most notably Big Bang, which influenced BTS more than any other k-pop band. But Big Hit Entertainment systemized these elements in BTS and marketed it hard.

BTS has broken several charts records during each come-back in 2016 and 2017, not only locally but also internationally. Unlike other K-pop fandoms, BTS fans, span every age, gender and ethnic group -- BTS is not a teenage phenomenon, it is an intellectual phenomenon. Language barrier is no hinderance to spreading their message by their active fanbase who translate lyrics, make video compilations and create fan fiction about the band. Their messages penetrate through language, age, ethinicity and gender (need to add videos of older people attending their concert).

Even before their debut in 2013, they already had contents such as covers and dance practices, published through several medias (Youtube, blog, Twitter...). They have constantly tried to update fans on their activities through planned and unplanned interactions. The boy group was one of the first artists featured in the live broadcasting application launched by Naver in August 2015, V App. BTS’ social angle is always cited by the ARMY as the top reason for their ardent support.

This worldwide popularity is confirmed by their growing strength on social media (linked in article).

Besides being crowned music’s hereditary princes by Korea’s "President of Culture” Seo Taiji, some other prominent supporters of BTS include Korean music critics, philosophers, Jungian psychologists, Brazilian authors, American painters.

That BTS happen to have a small, intimate team to aid them in the production endeavour which does not make their work any less authentic, and it differs fundamentally from other K-pop companies.

K-pop, which has swelled in the past five years from a niche genre to a $5 billion global industry. “Somebody always has to be the one to walk down that path and cut through the jungle and make some noise, and I think that group [was] BTS,” says Phil Becker, vice president for content at Alpha Media, which owns 68 U.S. radio stations.

America and the UK have been the powerhouses of popular music — only three of the 30 highest selling artists of all time have come from elsewhere. It means that the dominance, in terms of both cultural influence and commercial prowess, has been held firmly within the grip of the West. In 2019, BTS came second on the worldwide list of best-selling artists across physical, digital and streaming platforms, beaten only by the all-conquering Drake. BTS have almost single-handedly pulled things back towards the East.

[crimethinc]

Yellow Vests for May Day Can Macron Pacify France Before May Day 2019? Probably Not.

Last week, concluding a national initiative aimed at drawing the general population into “dialogue” with the authorities, French President Emmanuel Macron announced a handful of minor reforms intended to placate participants in the yellow vest movement. It’s far from certain that this strategy will succeed.

The situation in France is the culmination of years of strife between protest movements and the state. At the height of the so-called “refugee crisis” in 2015, the French government used the opportunity provided by the November 13 terror attacks to declare a state of emergency intended to suppress all protest activity. Instead, a massive student revolt against the Loi Travail erupted in 2016, defying the state of emergency, and simmering unrest continued through the 2017 elections and the 2018 eviction of the ZAD. The clashes of May Day 2018 showed that the movement had reached an impasse: thousands of people were prepared to fight the police and engage in property destruction, but the authorities were still able to keep the contagion of rebellion quarantined inside a particular space.

Starting in November 2018, the Yellow Vest movement upended this precarious balance, drawing a much wider swathe of the population into the streets. In response, Macron organized a “National Debate” in a classic attempt at appeasement and pacification. The outcome of the National Debate and the May Day demonstrations will tell us a lot about the prospects of social movements elsewhere around the world: what forms of pressure mass movements can bring to bear on the authorities, what kind of demands neoliberal governments are (and are not) able to grant today, and what sort of longterm gains movements for revolutionary liberation can hope to make in the course of such waves of unrest.

Accordingly, in the following update, we explore the concessions Macron offered and conclude with the prospects for May Day 2019 in France.

Paris, April 20, inside the kettle at Place de la République.

Macron’s Intervention

Having postponed his announcement due to the fire that destroyed part of Notre-Dame cathedral on the evening of April 15, President Emmanuel Macron finally presented the results of the National Debate on Thursday, April 25, in a press conference broadcast live on French television.

The government launched this “democratic” political tool three months earlier, on January 15, 2019, to answer the thirst for a more “direct democracy” verbalized by a large part of yellow vest movement—especially through calls for a Citizens’ Initiative Referendum (RIC). Macron’s goal, of course, was to reestablish political stability in France while making as few changes as possible.

President Emmanuel Macron and Prime Minister Edouard Philippe in front of Notre-Dame. This has not been a particularly easy time to head the French government.

In the days preceding the press conference, several elements of his plan were leaked to the press, which diminished the surprise effect that the government aimed to create with this event. But unlike members of the current government, Macron’s supporters, and some corporate journalists, none of us were waiting impatiently for the president’s intervention, nor expecting that anything positive or surprising would come out of this political spectacle.

For more than five months now, yellow vesters have learned the hard way that dialogue with the government is meaningless—the state is prepared to take ever more authoritarian measures in order to maintain its hegemony and preserve the status quo. In the outcome of the “National Debate,” we see again why democracy has not served as a bulwark against fascism, but rather as a means to legitimize state power. Those who control the state are always careful to make sure that while elections, referendums, and discussions can serve to create the impression that the government has a mandate to represent the general population, they never actually threaten the institutions of state power.

The Government Responds to the Yellow Vests

Those interested who wish to see two and half hours of political doublespeak can watch Macron’s press conference in full here. Our goal here is simply to analyze some of the major decisions taken by the French government.

In the opening statement, Macron explained that he had learned a lot from the National Debate and emerged “transformed.” According to him, this three-month political experience highlighted that there is a deeply rooted feeling of fiscal, territorial, and social injustice among the population, alongside a perceived lack of consideration on the part of the elite. Therefore, the government has decided to present “a more human and fair” political project.

However, after these conventional words intended to create the illusion of empathy from the government towards yellow vesters and everyone else struggling on a daily basis as a consequence of the policies implemented by successive governments, Macron lifted the veil, adding:

“Does this mean that everything that has been done in the past two years should be stopped? I believe quite the opposite. We must continue the transformations. The orientations taken have been good and fair. The fundamentals of the first two years must be preserved, pursued, and intensified. The economic growth is greater than that of our neighboring countries.”

President Macron at the official press conference to present the results of the National Debate.

If some people still hesitated to believe that the National Debate was just a political farce, here is the ultimate proof. For months, people expressed their frustrations in the streets and traffic circles. Facing this unprecedented and uncontrollable situation, the authorities answered by saying that in a democracy, dialogue must not be established through “violence,” therefore offering the National Debate as an alternative in order to pacify the situation—while increasing police repression against demonstrators in the meantime.

After three months of National Debate—which fortunately failed to stop the movement—those who trusted the good intentions of the government saw their efforts and demands dismissed. In effect, Macron was telling everyone, “Thanks a lot for taking part of this debate, we heard you, but in the end, we decided to pursue our political agenda and continue the liberalization of the capitalist economy.”

So the long-awaited conclusion of the National Debate was simply a mix of old promises, a few adjustments to show the goodwill of the government, and new reforms to accelerate the transformation and liberalization of society.

Over five months later, yellow vest protesters are still in the streets.

First, Macron rejected some of the biggest demands of the yellow vest movement. The government will not officially recognize “blank votes” as a form of opposition during elections (so far, those votes are counted but they are not taken into account in the final results and in the total number of vote cast). Then, he refused to reverse the decision to reduce taxes on the income of the super-rich—one of the issues that had provoked the emergence of the yellow vest movement in the first place.

Furthermore, the government also opposed the idea of creating the Citizens’ Initiative Referendum (RIC). Instead, they want to develop an already existing alternative¬—the Referendum of Shared Initiative—by simplifying its rules. From now on, instead of requiring 4.7 million signatures to be discussed at the Assemblée Nationale, a petition will only need one million signatures and the approval of at least a fifth of the total number of deputies. If the National Assembly refuses to discuss the issue, a referendum can be held. Macron also mentioned his desire to reinforce the right to petition at a local scale.

A yellow vest protester holding a sign calling for the Citizens’ Initiative Referendum, one of the most popular demands among the movement. From our perspective, efforts to make the French government more “directly democratic” will be ineffectual at best and at worst will legitimize reactionary and repressive state policies as “representing the will of the people.”

Even with the proposal to simplify this participatory political platform, it is easy to see that the government is taking very few risks with this alternative. The idea is to give people the impression that they have more leverage within the democratic system, as they can address petitions to their representatives. But in the end, who will have the final word on these issues? Politicians motivated by self-interest, power, and careerism. There is very little probability that the deputies will validate any petition that could threaten the status quo. As in any other political system, this democratic game is obviously rigged: even if you play by the rules, you always lose!

Then, Macron repeated and clarified some reforms that were already present in his electoral program of 2017: limiting the number of terms for politicians (though he did not specify how many would be allowed); reducing the number of parliamentarians by 25% or 30%; increasing the degree of proportional representation in legislative elections (which will likely give more power to the National Front in French political institutions).1

Members of the Anti-Criminality Brigade in action during Act 22 in Toulouse.

After presenting what the government is planning to do to include more elements of participatory democracy in the French political system, Macron expressed his desire to undertake a “profound reform of the French administration” and of its public service. To do so, the government intends to put an end to the National School of Administration (ENA)—symbol of republican elitism and opportunism—in order to create a new institution that “works better.” Moreover, in May, Prime Minister Edouard Philippe has been mandated to officially present a government plan to put more civil servants in the field so they can help the authorities find solutions to people’s problems at a local scale. Therefore, the government has abandoned its previous objective of abolishing 120,000 posts of civil servants—but this doesn’t mean that the government has abandoned the idea of cutting jobs.

To fight against the steady reduction of public services in the countryside and in some provinces—such as post offices and deliveries, health insurance, and unemployment agencies—the government aims to establish buildings that would concentrate all these rudimentary public services in one location. Such initiative already exists, in fact, but is suffering from critical underfunding.

Then, Macron stated that no further hospital or school will close until 2022—the end of his presidential term—without the agreement of the Mayor of the Commune they are located in. For years, successive governments have underfunded hospitals and schools, increasing the precarious aspect of working conditions. The main question is—what will happen after 2022? Regarding the education issue, Macron agreed to limit the number of students per class to 24 from kindergarten to second grade and to duplicate classes if necessary, as is already stipulated in some priority education areas—read poor districts. This is an interesting focus for Macron when in the meantime, government policies are worsening the educational system as a whole, especially via reforms targeting high schools and universities.

Concerning economic policies, Macron explained that he wants to “significantly reduce” the amount of income tax demanded from the middle class. However, to do so while balancing the loss of tax revenue, Macron is asking everyone to “work more.” The meaning behind this statement remains quite obscure, as Macron offered no further explanation. So far, we know that the government doesn’t want to change the legal age of retirement nor to cancel holidays. However, Macron is not opposed to the idea of increasing the number of working hours per week. The government also aims to reach its objective of “full employment” by 2025, without explaining how this might take place. In order to compensate for the tax cuts for the middle class, the government also aims to suppress some specific fiscal niches used by large companies, but Macron said nothing about the various strategies of tax evasion utilized by the super-rich.

Macron also explained his wish to increase the minimum amount of retirement pensions from today’s approximately €650 per month up to €1000. Moreover, Macron also reconsidered his previous policy regarding retirement and confirmed that pensions under €2000 would be re-indexed to account for inflation starting January 2020. Finally, the government wants to create some sort of mechanism to guarantee the payment of child support to families in need.

Starting in June, Macron wants to create a “citizen’s convention composed of one hundred and fifty people with the mission to work on significant measures for the planet.” In addition, he wants to establish a Council of Ecological Defense to address climate change. This council would involve the Prime Minister as well as the main Ministers in charge of this transition in order to take “strategic choices and to put this climate change at the very core of our policies.” This is not a measure to address the ecological crisis so much as yet another step in the development of the same French bureaucracy that sparked the yellow vest movement in the first place. Our governments and the systems that put them in power in the first place continue to lead us towards darker futures.

Riot police charging demonstrators at Place de la République on Saturday, April 20.

Finally, and most ominously, Macron presented his plan to “rebuild the immigration policy” of France. “Europe needs to rethink its cooperation with Africa in order to limit the endured immigration and has to reinforce its borders, even if this means having a Schengen area with less countries,” he proclaimed. “I deeply believe in asylum, but we must strengthen the fight against those who abuse it.” This will likely be the premise of a new step in the development of fortress Europe. And, of course, whatever authoritarian measures are developed to target migrants will also be used to target poor people and rebellious elements within France itself. In this regard, we can see that it has been self-destructive as well as racist and xenophobic that some yellow vesters have demanded more immigration controls.

As May Day Approaches

Following this press conference, the government hoped that its official announcements would finally take the life out of the yellow vest movement, defusing the social tension that has built up. However, in the hours following Macron’s speech, several well-known yellow vest figures expressed their dissatisfaction with his proposals, calling for further demonstrations. In the end, even if some yellow vesters were sidetracked by Macron’s announcement, it was difficult to predict whether people would massively take the streets for the 24th act of the yellow vest movement.

For Act 24 of the movement, yellow vest protesters made an international call to gather in the streets of Strasbourg. The banner reads “Coordination of the Yellow Vesters from the East.”

On Saturday, April 27, about 23,600 yellow vesters demonstrated in France. For this new day of action, the epicenter of the movement was the city of Strasbourg. As the European elections will occur in a month, an “international call” was made to gather and march towards the European Parliament. Some Belgians, Germans, Italians, Swiss, and Luxembourgers participated as well. About 3000 demonstrators walked through the streets of Strasbourg, confronting police and engaging in property destruction. In the end, 42 people were arrested and at least 7 injured—three police officers, three demonstrators, and one passerby.

At the same time, two demonstrations took place in Paris. The first, organized by trade unions, drew about 5500 demonstrators, among them 2000 in yellow vests, while the other, mostly composed of several hundreds of yellow vesters, did a tour of all the major corporate media headquarters to ask for “impartial media coverage.” Other gatherings also took place in Lyons, Toulouse, Cambrai, and elsewhere in France. (All of the figures provided here are from the French authorities.)

Street confrontations in Strasbourg on Saturday, April 27.

If we compare the total number of participants in this 24th act to the other national days of action, it is undeniable that it attracted fewer participants. Does that mean that the government has finally gained the upper hand over the movement? It’s unclear. It is possible that some yellow vesters stayed home from the 24th act in order to prepare for May Day.

Last year, the intensity of property destruction and confrontations with police during the May Day mobilization of anarchists and other autonomous rebels compelled the government to cancel the entire traditional trade union march. In view of the tense social and political situation in France today, who knows what May Day 2019 could bring?

If the government attempts to cancel or repress demonstrations in Paris this May Day, the situation could become explosive. Not only because the police have adopted aggressive new law enforcement strategies over the past few weeks, but also because several calls have been made for yellow vesters to join autonomous rebels at the front of the traditional Parisian afternoon procession for the “ultimate act.” The objective is set: Paris is to become the capital city of rioting.

The world on fire, Paris in the middle.

Here is an English adaptation of one of the calls, entitled Pour un 1er mai jaune et noir:

For a yellow and black May Day!

“When the government violates the rights of the people, insurrection is for the people and for each portion of the people the most sacred of rights and the most indispensable of duties.”

-Article 35 of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen (1793)

Macron’s government has decided to crush the current social protest by force, reaching a level of repression never seen before: prohibitions of demonstrations, deployment of soldiers, the use of armored vehicles, the use of chemical markers and weapons of war against protesters, jail sentences in spades, hands torn off, blinded protesters…

During the demonstration of May Day 2018, the Prefecture of Police counted 14,500 demonstrators “on the sidelines of the trade union procession” (almost as much as in the traditional procession) including 1200 “radical individuals.” On March 16, at the time of act 18, it was 1500 “ultra violent” ones who were present among the 7000 demonstrators, according to the figures of this same police.

Today, what frightens the state is not the rioters themselves, but the adhesion and understanding they arouse among the rest of the population. And this despite the calls, week after week, for everyone to dissociate themselves from the “breakers.”

If there is one group that currently strikes France with all its violence, it is not the “Black Bloc,” nor the yellow vests; it is rather the government itself.

We are calling on all revolutionaries in France and elsewhere, all those who want this to change, to come and form a determined and combative march. Because if repression falls on everyone, our response must be common and united. Against Macron and his world, let’s take the street together to revive the convergence of anger and hope. Let’s get ready, let’s equip ourselves, lets organize ourselves to overthrow him and drag him through a day in hell.

War has been declared!

Let’s see that flag burn too.

For those who attend to join the May Day festivities in Paris, here are some important links and information:

List of different May Day actions

Information and contacts courtesy of the Legal Team in French, English, and Italian.

Further Reading

We have been publishing updates and analysis on the Yellow Vest movement since it first got underway. You can view all our articles here.

“Proportional representation” would mean that if, for example, 30% of voters vote for the Green Party, then members of that party would receive 30% of the total number of seats. So far, legislative elections offer no proportional representation—even if a party receives a large percentage of votes, it might not gain many seats at the assembly. People have been complaining about this “unfair process,” so now the government is willing to increase proportional representation in elections. Unfortunately, for several years now, the National Front has usually received around 20-25% of votes but only currently holds 6 seats out of the 577 in the Assemblée Nationale. Increasing proportional representation will give them more power in the decision-making—although, of course, it’s not clear to what extent Macron will actually follow through on his promises.

Of course, there is no option for people who have grown disillusioned with government itself: that perspective will never be “proportionately represented.” This is why the government refused outright to recognized blank votes. ↩

[lilacmoon83]

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 196: One Soul

Snow was lost in a haze of pleasure, as David made love to her in the early morning hours just as dawn was rising. She writhed beneath his hard body and raked her nails along his back, as he pumped his hips, almost feverishly, gliding in and out of her with languid thrusts. This was the way it was supposed to be. The morning after their anniversary was always spent together, in bed, making love and losing themselves in one another. Many anniversaries had been marred by evil hanging over them or worse where they had even been separated, like their last two anniversaries. But this one was supposed to be different. This one was supposed to be spent together, free of worry or villains looming over them.

But sadly, that was not the case again. Once again, a multitude of villains and trouble were hanging over them like a dark cloud. They had never let this sully their time together and they had managed to find a way to be happy, despite everything. They always found a way to escape and find comfort in each other and their love. It wouldn't change the danger that awaited them outside their bedroom, but for these few hours, they escaped together into a schism all their own.

"Snow…" he breathed, as he kissed her with desperate passion. He could never get enough of her. Being with her was something he still couldn't quite describe in words. It went far beyond just sex. The physical act was amazing on its own, but the connection they had just elevated it to a level beyond normal comprehension. They were connected far beyond just physically when they were making love. As their bodies connected, so did their minds, their shared heart of course, beating in perfect sync, and then their very souls.

"David...ahhh…" she cried out, beside herself in pleasure, as he loved her so completely and thoroughly. They were going on pure adrenaline now. They had slept a few hours, but most of the night had been spent like this. She wasn't even sure where they ever mustered the stamina, but it never seemed to fail them. But then that was them. A love like none other.

This time though, it seemed that the villains facing them came with incredible power behind them. Seth was a Titan...stronger than any of the Gods. Another was considered a type of God in his own right, according to Fandral. He bartered deals in exchanged for people's souls, which scared the life out of her. Then there was the Queen of course. She seemed to be a shadow that Snow had never quite been able to shake. And now she was back, hoping that releasing Snow's own darkness might bring about her demise. Add to that, her own darkness, who had taken on the identity of Winter, sought her husband's dark half. And as much as she knew he was fighting it, she didn't know how long he could keep from separating. After all, her Charming would do anything to find her and be with her. So she knew the darkness inside him wanted Winter as much as David wanted her.

But perhaps most terrifying of all was the development concerning their youngest son's magic. The look Seth had given her little Bobby once he realized what the boy was doing chilled her to the bone. She was so frightened for their little boy that she had been on the verge of a panic attack the night before and knew that when they were forced to return to reality, it would hit her again. She clung tightly to her husband at that. It would not be easy to let either him nor their son out of her sight today. But she wouldn't stop him from learning about his powers if it was what he really wanted. She had so many questions about that too, but she had a feeling those answers would become apparent as his powers surfaced more and more.

Though neither of them wanted the escape to end, they knew it would and they experienced one more euphoric culmination of their lovemaking and then cuddled close beneath the bedclothes, skin slick with perspiration, and bodies completely sated.

"She came to me...in a dream last night," David confessed.

"Mmm...I'm not surprised," she answered, as he threaded his fingers with hers and she rested her head atop his bare chest.

"She won't give up...I would know. I'd never give up on being with you," she mentioned.

"What do we do, Snow?" he asked, almost at a loss. He knew she was right. He knew his dark side would not let him sleep peacefully until he was out and had Winter in his arms. She swallowed thickly.

"I...I don't know. I'm so frightened, Charming. For you...for Bobby," she confessed and he caressed her beautiful face.

"I will protect our son...and you know Winter would never hurt me," he assured her. She nodded. She didn't doubt him, but the evil facing them this time was one of apocalyptic proportions. He made Gothel look like a peon and it was daunting.

"I suppose we better get up," he said reluctantly.

"It's still early, my darling...we still have a little time," he replied.

"Good...because I just need you to hold me," she said, as she sniffed.

"I need you to hold me," she cried, as he gathered her in his arms, the sheet around her and all, and held her flush against his form so she was now straddling his now upright body.

"Charming…" she whimpered, as their lips met in feverish locks and she hummed pleasurably, as he kissed her throat, lightly sucking and biting, ensuring she'd have a mark. She felt compelled to mark him as well and he groaned, as she returned the favor on the nape of his neck.

"Snow…" he cried, as their lips crashed together again and a hand cupped her breast. She arched her back and he knew what she wanted, as his head fell forward and his mouth worshiped her the full, gorgeous mounds of flesh. She combed her fingers through his hair, as he gave her the pleasure she craved.

"Only you Snow...only you…" he promised, as they breathed together in ragged gasps and she pressed her forehead against his, green eyes colliding with blue.

"We'll find a way to get through this and we'll do it together," he promised. She kissed him again and was bolstered by his love and devotion, as she always was. It wouldn't be easy, but she would never lose the faith and certainty that their love could weather any storm.

~*~

The Queen had spent all night reading the book on ultra instinct, after she had used her magic to translate it from Greek to English. She finished just before dawn and quickly poofed herself out of Rose Red's library, still reeling from all that she had learned.

The ultra instinct discussed in the texts was truly a rare power. The original wielder had been Gaia herself or mother Earth, but not quite to the same degree. Gaia didn't really use the elements, but rather was the elements. She became them and that's not exactly what Bobby was doing. Then she learned of the only other people to ever possess the abilities that came along with ultra instinct and a soul bound connection to the earth itself. Apollo and Artemis. And what she had proceeded to read about them was frightening and devastating.

~*~

Flashback

During the Titanomachy

The landmasses of all the realms began to break apart in the most violent of manners, as Seth, in his snake-like form, devoured any power that was thrown at him. Even Zeus' lightning bolts were having no effect.

"There is no killing him...we have to cast him out into Oceanus or all the realms are doomed," Apollo realized.

"The only way to do that is to bind him with all the elements and sacrifice our star gems," Artemis told him.

"It's the only way...everyone dies. Or just us," he said gravely. Artemis closed her eyes and accepted their fate.

"Such is the duty for those with souls tied to mother earth," she replied. He smiled.

"Do not lament, sister," he said.

"How does one look at the bright side in this situation? We are only banishing him, Apollo. What if he returns someday?" she questioned, as willed his star gem out of his body.

"My star gem has answered that question," he said. She closed her eyes and willed hers outside her body as well. She then saw the vision of the future he was seeing.

"Mortals with such power...it is unprecedented," she realized. He smiled.

"Not ordinary mortals. Aphrodite will champion them. Athena has already written their love in the stars," he replied.

"The truest loves…" she uttered.

"Not the first pair, but certainly the greatest. Their offspring will wield all the elements and weaponize their star gems. But there will be one like us...or rather even greater than us. One will be born amidst a time of great peril for their parents. Their power will be...like nothing seen before," Apollo decreed.

"They will channel all the elements and this family will destroy Seth once and for all," she said, as she saw glimpses of an uncertain future.

"Only if we do our part now. The realms have been shattered, but that will one day be repaired as well. But only if we do this now," he said. She nodded.

"I'm ready," she agreed, as they used the elements to momentarily bind Seth long enough for Zeus to cast him into Oceanus. But his very last act was to attack the twins and their star gems were shattered, as they knew they would be. But they died knowing that they had saved all the realms and that their legacy would one day be in good hands…

~*~

She knew that no one would really listen to anything she had to say, but she needed her grandson protected. His parents needed to know what was ahead for him, so she discreetly left the translated book for Belle to find on her desk at the library. She knew that the brunette would read it and instantly run to her husband with it. In turn, the information she needed them to know would get to them.

But there was someone else she needed to confront with this information and though she loathed the idea almost as much as being in the same room as Snow, she knew this person wouldn't hold anything back when it came to protecting Bobby.

She easily found where she was holed up and shook her head in a mixture of amusement and disdain, as she crossed the Toll Bridge.

"So predictable," she commented, as she waltzed in and looked around.

"At least the color scheme isn't pastels and birds," she commented, as she appreciated the darker color scheme.

"Get out…" Winter growled, as she pointed her white wand at the Queen.

"Ah...a fairy wand. So that's how you did this without the chalice," she replied.

"Yes...and I'll use this on you without batting an eye," she warned.

"And normally, I would welcome the challenge of fighting you, especially since I know you're no match for my magic," the Queen retorted.

"Don't be so sure," Winter snapped.

"But I'm not here to fight. I'm here to discuss Bobby," the Queen stated.

"You stay away from my son...from all my children," Winter hissed.

"The last thing I want is harm to come to Bobby and you need to hear what I have to say," the Queen snapped. Winter glowered at her, but retracted the wand to her side.

"Fine...make it quick," she replied.

"Seth is determined to eliminate Bobby before he can become a threat," the Queen warned.

"I knew it...you've done this! You brought him here and now he will try to take one of my babies!" Winter roared.

"That's why I'm here...to warn you!" the Queen snapped.

"I may hate you, but I love my grandchildren! And your other half is too busy thinking rainbow kisses and unicorn stickers will win everyone over!" she added.

"Then why don't you stop him from coming after Bobby?!" Winter shouted.

"Don't you think if I had that kind of power I would have already done it?" the Queen questioned. Winter huffed.

"You need to do whatever it takes to pull the dark half out of your idiot husband, because short of Bobby's powers, I think the Chalice is the only chance of killing him," the Queen said.

"Oh that's so typical! You caused this, but you expect me and Charming to clean up your mess," Winter snapped.

"Save me the lecture, you little bitch...and do what is necessary to save your son," the Queen hissed.

"Oh, I will save my son! No thanks to you!" Winter yelled.

"If you're serious about saving Bobby…" the Queen said, earning another sharp look from Snow's darker half,

"Which I know you are...then there is one more thing you should do," the Queen stated.

"Oh, by all means...enlighten me," Winter replied.

"Madam Mim could be a huge problem. She's quite powerful and Seth's most trusted adviser. She's already pushing him to eliminate Bobby and she's more than happy to report absolutely everything that goes on in this town to him," the Queen warned.

"She's his eyes and ears so to speak," Winter surmised.

"Yes…" the Queen confirmed.

"So take care of her. You're always boasting how powerful you are. Why do you need me to do the dirty work?" Winter inquired.

"Because me killing her will be seen as a betrayal if I'm to do it," the Queen responded.

"And if I'm to take Mim's place in order to undermine him, then that won't do at all," she added.

"So you want me to kill her?" Winter asked.

"That wand isn't that powerful...but the chalice is. So stop wasting time and seduce the darkness out of your idiot husband so you can kill Mim," the Queen ordered.

"You do NOT give me orders!" Winter snapped.

"But I will take care of Mim, only because she's a threat to my son," Winter said. The Queen smirked, feeling the need to rub salt in the wounds she knew Winter had right now.

"A son that doesn't recognize you as his mother. He'll always see Snow as his mother and only Snow. All your children will shun you, just like they shunned me. Just like Robin and Roland shunned me. It's time you feel what I felt…" the Queen growled. Winter smirked.

"They shun me for now, but that won't hold forever. And even if it does...I will still have my Charming, because no matter how much he fights it, he loves every part of me. The light and the darkness. The good and the bad…" Winter goaded.

"Can you say the same about Robin?" Winter asked, turning the tables on her.

"Shut up, you little retch…" the Queen growled.

"Robin only wants the good Regina...not you," Winter continued.

"But Charming...he loves me wholly. He'd never reject me and while you're rattling around alone in some empty castle somewhere, I'll soon have my husband right beside me in bed. Holding me, loving me, and helping me make everyone that's ever wronged us pay...including you," Winter warned. The Queen smirked.

"Bring it on, you little brat...we'll see who pays. Just make sure you hold up your end with your son," she hissed.

"You don't need to concern yourself with my son! Charming and I will fight to protect our children to the end and unlike our good halves, we will not wait for the evil to come at us. We will take the fight right to them first," Winter promised.

"Whatever...just kill Mim if you want the advantage and do it soon," the Queen ordered.

"Get out," Winter growled.

"You're a such a spoiled little Princess...gladly," the Queen growled back, as she disappeared. Winter huffed and went to the window, as she looked out over Storybrooke.

"I need you Charming…" Winter murmured longingly.

~*~

That morning began bright and early with a big breakfast at Granny's before they ventured out to the desolate and barren land that surrounded Bald Mountain. Snow shuddered, as the memories of this place played in her mind. David squeezed her hip, as he too was uneasy at being close to the mountain where a vat of molten lava had nearly swallowed his beloved Snow and their unborn daughter. But they knew this was the best place to begin his training. There was no danger of hurting anyone out here or ripping up any land.

Once they got there, Regina and Rumple created an expansive, invisible dome that would be his training arena.

"Okay...now you two need to use the chalice to cast a protection spell over the dome. It will be impenetrable if made with the chalice to all except those specified access," Aphrodite said.

"And how do we specify whose allowed inside here?" David asked.

"By dropping a hair from everyone that is allowed into the chalice, as one by one, they all dropped a hair in.

"But Eva's not here…" Snow said.

"Hairs from anyone blood related to you aren't needed," the blonde replied. As if to demonstrate that, a Pegasus carrying Leo and Elsa flew through the barrier and landed before them.

"Sorry we're late," he said, as they dismounted the animal.

"That's okay...but now that we're here, we should tell you all what we found this morning on the counter in the shop," Belle said, as she handed the book to her husband.

"Where did you get that book?" Aphrodite asked.

"I didn't get it anywhere. It was just there," Rumple replied.

"What is it?" Snow asked.

"A book on ultra instinct. There is only one copy in existence and it would have been in Rose Red's library," Hermes said, as she looked at it.

"Do you think Rose might have dropped it off?" Emma asked. But Snow shook her head.

"No, Rose would have just brought it to us directly if it was that important," she replied.

"And this has been magically translated from Greek to English," Hermes added.

"If I had to guess, I'd say the Queen left it for us to find," Rumple stated.

"Why?" David asked suspiciously.

"She does care about Bobby…" Regina replied.

"So what is this ultra instinct and why does it matter?" Leo asked, getting straight to the point, which Rumple appreciated.

"From what I've read...it applies to individuals that control the element of Earth," he said.

"He's right...Earth is very different from the other elements. You have to be bonded to the earth to use it. There has only been two people before Bobby who have possessed these abilities and ultra instinct is what they called it," Hermes explained.

"And who were those people?" David asked.

"Apollo and his twin Artemis," Aphrodite answered.

"They were the reason that Zeus was able to banish Seth. They were able to use their star gems to bind him long enough for him to be banished," she continued.

"You see, with ultra instinct, Bobby has the potential to wield all the elements," Hermes added.

"But when we used our gems...we died for like five minutes," David said and then his eyes widened.

"What happened to Apollo and Artemis?" Snow asked with trepidation. Aphrodite looked at them wearily.

"They died," she confirmed.

"Well, that's that then. Training's over...let's go," David said firmly.

"But Dad…" Bobby protested.

"What happened to Apollo and Artemis can be avoided with Bobby," Aphrodite told them. Snow and David exchanged a glance.

"How?" Snow inquired.

"Bobby has the potential to wield all the elements, but he has the added benefit of just channeling them too. That's very different than conjuring them himself and far less taxing," she explained.

"You mean like channeling them from us?" Emma questioned.

"Yes, exactly. Apollo and Artemis may have been Gods, but the magic in this family is far more powerful than they were," Aphrodite assured.

"Please Mom and Dad...I want to stay. I want to do this," Bobby pleaded.

"I don't know..." David lamented.

"I hate to put this kind of pressure your children...but without them learning this, we may not be able to stop Seth," Rumple spoke, father to father.

"You wouldn't want Gideon on the front lines anymore than we want Bobby there," David argued.

"You're right...but I'm not sure we have the luxury of choice here," he countered. Snow sighed.

"The chalice...can it match his power?" she asked.

"It can offer a very good defense, a defense we did not have all those years ago, for the Titanomachy, which was the battle between the Titans and the Olympians, happened before my first charges were even born," Aphrodite replied.

"It will take all of you. He's already worried about this family and that's saying something," Hermes added.

"She's right," Athena said, as she appeared.

"I know how scared you both are for your children, but this is a battle that's fated and we must prepare all of you for what is to come," the Goddess of Wisdom decreed.

"I know it's unfair, but once again...it will fall to this family to save all the realms," she added.

"No pressure," David deadpanned and Snow leaned her head against his arm.

"We should get Eva then," he relented. Snow nodded.

"I'm sure Paul can lighten her shifts at the hospital so she can train," Snow said.

"And then Summer...she's in her senior year. She's supposed to be having fun at school and getting ready for college," David replied.

"She is...but there's no future at all if we are all ill prepared for the inevitable battle," Athena reminded.

"We'll go get them and be back soon," Snow said, as she and David joined hands, before exiting the dome. Aphrodite shook her head and had never felt more guilty than she did at that moment.

"They'll be fine," James assured.

"I never meant for them to face this...I never thought Seth returning was even a possibility," she lamented, as he took her in his arms.

"I know...but it's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault really. It just is," James offered, though he knew it was of little comfort.

"We should get started," Rumple interjected. Aphrodite nodded.

"Okay Bobby...before you channel the elements, you have to learn them," she said, as she nodded to Emma, Regina, Elsa and Leo.

"Let's start with lightning...it's the hardest to control," she said. Leo nodded and his eyes flashed and a dark cloud appeared, swirling over them, as Leo harnessed his element.

~*~

Fandral rode his horse out into the woods surrounding their palace, as one of his men had alerted him to possible suspicious activity along their border. He dismounted his horse and investigated what might have tripped the security measures that had been put in place with the continuing modernization of realms. But he didn't have to look far, for the culprit was not trying to hide. He drew his sword, as he saw the shifty man leaning against a tree.

"You are not welcome here, demon," he warned.

"Fandral the Dashing...long time no see," Mephisto hissed, as he approached and seemed hardly intimidated by the Asgardian warrior.

"These are desperate times and in desperate times, there are always desperate souls," Mephisto goaded.

"No one is desperate enough to sell their soul to you. The price is too high," Fandral refuted.

"Is it? I daresay...your friends may think differently, for I think you know they will do anything to save one of their children," he retorted.

"Snow and David will never make a deal with you, demon. They don't need your power when they have true love on their side," Fandral responded.

"Perhaps...but there are many other desperate souls. Perhaps even your beloved right now," Mephisto leered. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and a cold chill slithered down his spine.

"What do you know about Rose?" he growled, as he wrapped one hand around the demon's skinny neck and lifted him off the ground. But Mephisto only chuckled.

"Let's just say...she is getting acquainted with one of your old flames," he rasped, as he struggled to breathe. Fandral tossed him away and mounted his horse, before taking off back toward their castle, all while Mephisto's maniacal laughter rang in his ears and echoed through the entire forest.

~*~

Rose idly flipped through one of the books and sighed, before she used the ladder to climb up and shelve it. Her library literally had billions of books, but Hermes had equipped her with a magical tablet that cataloged them all and made it quite easy to know what she had in her inventory. This included knowing when new storybooks popped into existence and if there was one missing. It was not unusual for there to be a few missing here and there. They often took them out of the library themselves to read to the children and her staff was allowed to check them out as well, as long as they logged it. But she had one missing book she could not account for, which was puzzling her. She normally wouldn't think too much of it, for it was possible someone forgot to log their selection, but this particular book that was missing happened to be written in ancient Greek. And that gave her a bad feeling for good reason. She had a feeling that it was a book of great importance and decided that she should probably call David to report a possible theft. She knew he and Emma had ways of investigating and determining if someone had managed to get into the library. It had to be someone with magic in order to get past the guards, which made her more anxious. She carefully climbed down the ladder and was about to go make the call when she found a woman in her way.

"So...you're Rose Red," the woman said, as she looked her up and down.

"I suppose I can see the appeal...you are very fair," she added.

"You're the Enchantress," Rose deduced. Amora smirked.

"Then Fandral told you about me," she said.

"Fandral and I do not have secrets," Rose retorted.

"Then you know what we were," Amora goaded.

"I know that Fandral has a past and I am neither threatened or bothered by it. Because I am his present and future, as are our children," Rose countered, refusing to let this woman get under her skin, for it was exactly what she wanted.

"He is quite unforgettable, isn't he?" Amora asked.

"I mean, I'm never one to get attached to my marks. In fact, I am not a slave to my emotions like most beings. But I have to admit...he stuck with me," she continued.

"He wasn't even supposed to be one of my marks. He was unattached and so much like me. Never letting the heart get in the way of satisfying his need for...the pleasures of the flesh," she goaded and Rose glowered at her.

"Do not compare my Fandral to the likes of you," she spat.

"But he was like me. He used those good looks and that sculpted body to swoon females into his bed for one night of passion and then left them behind with a shattered heart," she hissed.

"We all do foolish things in our youth and make mistakes. Fandral is not that man anymore," Rose refuted.

"Because of me…" Amora reminded.

"I'll admit...at first I decided to seduce him and get him to fall for me simply to teach him a lesson. I gave him a taste of his own medicine and for that reason, you have the faithful and devoted husband that he is now," she claimed.

"He owes you nothing, nor do I," Rose argued. Amora smirked.

"That's debatable, but I have admit, when I stomped on his heart and left him for other conquests, I never quite got him out of my system," she admitted.

"I mean...you know what it's like being with him. You don't get over a magnificent lover like him. I guess I really don't have to tell you that. You seem quite...satisfied," Amora leered.

"I'm not discussing my love life with my husband with you," Rose responded, as she started to walk around the woman. But Amora grabbed her arm.

"Remove your hands from me," Rose demanded, as she pulled away.

"There is a lot of fire under that sweet, polite exterior, isn't there?" she goaded.

"But then...there would have to be. I know Fandral and wallflowers aren't his type," she added.

"There is no contest between us. Fandral is my husband and no one knows him better than me," Rose snapped.

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, sweet cheeks," Amora snapped back, as she shoved the other woman back. Rose stumbled, but managed to stay on her feet.

"You're in my way...and that won't do at all," Amora warned.

"You see, I've had many, many men in my bed throughout my very long life. But then I had Fandral and he became the one that got away. He once loved me and I've decided that I want him back," Amora added.

"You deceived him...he loved someone that never really existed. You can try all you want, but Fandral would never betray me," Rose refuted.

"Oh I know...that's why I must stage a little accident for you," Amora threatened. Rose's eyes widened and she dodged the woman, as she came at her. Pulling a dagger from her dress pocket, she made a swipe and Amora cried out, as Rose managed to graze her cheek. She touched her face and saw the blood there, before clenching her teeth.

"Well, I was going to make this nice and quick, but now you're going to suffer," Amora hissed, as she volleyed green blasts of magic at the Queen. Rose dodged her attacks and ran further into the library, weaving her way through the labyrinth of book shelves. Amora laughed, as she used her magic to make the books start to fall behind her. Rose yelped, as she ran to keep ahead of the falling books. She managed to find her way to one of the many exit doors to the massive library and opened the door, but Amora blasted it with her magic, closing it again and locking her in. Rose saw the sword stand by the door and grabbed the hilt of a broad sword, brandishing it to defend herself. Amora tossed several more blasts at her, but Rose expertly blocked them with the blade.

"Well, well...he did teach you to use a sword too," she said, actually impressed by her abilities.

"I guess if you want a duel...that can be arranged," Amora added, as a sword appeared in her hand and she charged with a battle cry. Rose parried her blade, as the clanging sound of metal echoed throughout the library. Amora was relentless in her attacks, but Rose met each strike, which enraged her opponent.

"Enough of this…" Amora hissed and Rose cried out, as she felt herself become immobilized by the Enchantress' magic.

"Time to die, pretty one," she leered, as the sword that Rose had now dropped was transformed into a vicious, large cobra snake. Rose cried out, as it hissed and rose up until it was eye level with her. She cried out and shied away, as it launched at her, ready to sink its fangs into her neck. But a sword sailed through the air, spinning like a sidewinder, and sliced through the serpent. It fell dead in two pieces and Fandral caught his sword, as he called it back to his hand.

"Fandral...so nice of you to join us," Amora goaded.

"You step away from my wife, you evil siren…" he growled. She smirked and her spell ceased, but not before she used it to shove Rose again. She cried out, as she went sailing toward the far wall. She knew if there was impact that there would be severe injury. While Amora used that as a distraction to abscond, Fandral leaped into action and caught her in mid air, sending them to the floor, in which he took the brunt of the fall on his back.

"Rose…" he breathed, hoping she was unharmed and she opened her eyes to look up at him. They glittered with tears and relief and most of all love, as she buried her face in his chest.

"Oh Fandral…" she uttered in relief.

"My angel…" he said, relief in his voice as well, as he kissed her forehead. He sat them up and then locked her lips in a long, passionate kiss. He then lifted her to her feet and held her close, as they walked back to the main atrium of the library.

"Mama! Papa!" the twins called, as they and Carina rushed to them.

"I'm okay babies," she promised.

"And I promise you she will stay that way," Fandral promised, as he kissed her tenderly.

"I will not let her near you again, my angel," he promised.

"I know that you'll always be there to protect me, my warrior," she replied, as she rested her head against his shoulder. But the close call had done enough to create a deep fear in him that Amora could try again and seriously hurt Rose or worse. He knew that he needed to make sure she was stopped permanently. And he knew exactly what he needed to do to ensure that.

~*~

Snow and David exited the hospital with Eva walking beside them.

"I know this isn't what you'd like to be doing, sweetie and I'm so sorry we have to take you away from your career again," Snow lamented.

"Mom...you're not taking me away from anything. My family needs me and there is nothing that I wouldn't do for any of you," Eva assured.

"We know sweetheart...but you know we don't like the idea of any of you fighting this battle," David said. She smiled.

"I know Daddy...and we love you for it," Eva said, as he hugged her to his side, while Snow smiled at them.

"Such a sweet little family moment...I think I'm getting a cavity just having to listen to it," a voice said, as they looked ahead of them and saw a woman standing there. Clearly by her long midnight blue robes and mystical air about her, this woman was clearly a Sorceress.

"Who are you?" Snow demanded to know.

"Show some respect...I'm the great Madam Mim," she announced.

"Madam Mim...I've read about you in the stories I've read about Merlin," Eva said. She snarled at the mention of that name.

"Merlin...he's the reason I was banished in the first place, centuries ago. But as a result of his failure to eliminate me completely, I became the right hand to the all powerful Seth," she explained.

"I don't care who the hell you are. You're not getting anywhere near this family," David retorted. She cackled.

"And you think you can stop me? You are peon compared to my power," she goaded.

"Oh, I think you'll find yourself to be wrong about that," Snow said, as she held her hand out and the chalice appeared from its pocket dimension. It glowed and transformed into their respective weapons.

"Lord Seth wants you eliminated and he has charged me with taking care of this for him. He promises to deal with your other brats personally," she promised.

"Like hell," Snow growled, as she fired arrows at the woman with her gauntlets. Mim smirked and used her magic to easily stop the arrow and send them back at them. They jumped out of the way, effectively dividing them. Eva's pink magic swirled in her hands and she blasted the witch, but Mim acted like her attack tickled and launched her own blast at the young woman. David stepped in front of her and nullified the blast with his glowing blade.

"Impressive...but can you volley all of these?" Mim questioned, as she started releasing blasts of her midnight blue magic in rapid succession. The blasts rocked the concrete around them, blowing it to pieces, while some unfortunately hit nearby businesses. Panic ensued in the streets of Storybrooke, as people ran away to escape.

"Eva...go make sure no one is hurt," David told her. She almost protested, knowing that her father's main goal was to take her out of the line of fire, but she also knew there might be people that needed medical attention.

"You know...as a gifted healer, my Master might have use for her, you know...as a personal slave," Mim goaded. That got the desired reaction from David and he charged her. Mim smirked and blasted him away, throwing him onto the hood of a nearby car.

"DAVID!" Snow cried, as the Sorcerer was suddenly directly in front of her and David's heart seized with fear, and he heard Snow scream, as she was blasted with Mim's power.

"Mom!" Eva cried, as she rushed to her.

"No...no...no…" David cried, as he ran to her and crashed to his knees beside her.

"SNOW!" he cried, as he held her unconscious form in his arms. She groaned in pain and he saw that she was singed and had magical burns on her arms and side. He heard a familiar whimper, but it didn't come from Snow. He looked over to find Winter standing there with the same injuries. She fell to the ground and the rage inside him boiled over.

"Stay with your mother," David told his daughter, as he clutched his chalice sword and stood up. Eva heard the edge in his voice, but it was the darkness in her father's eyes that startled her. It was happening...he was separating. As if sensing her husband's struggle, Snow opened her eyes.

"Charming...I'm okay. You don't have to do this…" Snow said weakly.

"Charming...I need you…" Winter called. He gripped the hilt of his blade and strode with purpose toward Mim, who seemed un-threatened by him.

"You might not want to get too close...your wife found that out the hard way," Mim warned. But when he didn't stop, she started to volley blasts of magic at him. But the chalice blade glowed with purpose and he expertly blocked every single strike, as he quickened his pace toward her. Her eyes widened, as he made swipes in the air with his sword, sending flails of chalice energy at her. She cried out, as she became singed and was stunned that a mere mortal had actually inflicted injury to her.

"Charming…" Snow and Winter both called. He looked back at them and they could see the struggle in him.

"I'm sorry…" he apologized, before he started to convulse and he could no longer fight his darker side. When Snow and Winter had been hurt, that was the catalyst that he could not refute. Having heard about the turmoil in town, Bobby arrived with his other siblings, as well as the rest of their family and friends that had been in the dome training.

"Dad!" Emma called, as she knelt beside her father, as he breathed heavily. He looked up at the figure standing above him. He was garbed in all black. Black leather pants, black tunic, and black leather doublet. He turned his head and Emma gasped, as her father's stark blue eyes stood out even more with the darkness around his other half's eyes.

"Everything is going to be fine now, Princess...take care of your mother," he said simply, as he gripped the chalice sword and continued his trek toward Mim. She began to panic at that and launched a large blast at him. He held the chalice sword up and stopped the attack directly in front of him. Mim's eyes widened, as his blue eyes pierced through her.

"Going after her and our children just sealed your fate," he stated in a matter of fact tone, as he reflected her own attacked back at her. And unluckily for her, it was one of her finishing spells. She tried to evade it, but control of it was now wielded by the dark Prince before her. She barely had time to scream, before her own attack hit her and the magic evaporated her into a million particles of matter. They were all stunned to speechlessness, as he strode toward Winter, while Eva healed her mother.

"Snow…" David cried, as he hugged her tightly.

"I'm okay, my love…" she whispered.

"I'm sorry...I couldn't keep him in any longer," he lamented. But she didn't blame him.

"We knew this was inevitable," she replied, as they watched dark Charming lift Winter into his arms.

"Wait!" Eva called, as he turned to her and she approached him.

"Eva…" Regina warned, but she didn't stop. She knew she had nothing to fear from him.

"Let me heal her," she requested. He looked surprised.

"You'd do that?" he asked.

"You're still my parents. You forget how deeply I feel things and I can see through your need for revenge and your anger," she replied, as she used her magic to heal Winter. She opened her eyes and stared at their daughter. Eva smiled at her and then walked away quietly. Winter looked up and found herself in Charming's arms...her Charming.

"You found me…" she whispered.

"Did you ever doubt I would?" he asked in return, as he gently put her on her feet and then pressed his hand to the small of her back, bringing her lips crashing to his. Their gazes met with a searing lust and love, as Winter picked up her wand.

"Let's go home," she said, as they disappeared in a puff of silver smoke.

"They have half the chalice," Snow realized, as she picked up her gauntlets. David sighed.

"This is my fault...I lost it when you were hurt," he lamented, but she caressed his handsome face.

"It is not your fault, my love. We knew it was only a matter of time. I can't live without you...so I know my other half can't live without hers," Snow said.

"And as romantic as that is, it's still a huge problem…" Regina reminded.

"Maybe not," Snow argued.

"Maybe not for anyone with the last name Charming...but I'd say there are some people whose days are numbered," Regina argued in return.

"Then we find a way to eliminate this problem. For us and for you," Snow said.

"What do you mean?" David asked.

"I mean that we should have considered this possibility when Regina was separated. We need to be reunited with our darker halves," Snow replied.

"Is that even possible?" Regina wondered.

"I don't know...but we need to talk to Hyde," Snow said.

"The three of you do that and the rest of us will return to training. You can join us later," Rumple stated.

"He's right...Seth will not take losing his right hand lightly. There is no telling how he will retaliate," Aphrodite warned, as they dispersed into groups again, with Snow, David, and Regina heading to talk to Hyde and the others returning to the dome.