#laurence is under his other wing trust

[blueggrass]

[alterrune]

Zulu Security Corp. Status

The Zulu Security Corp was a faction Laurence Burnway used to lead during his time in The Trinity of Fate before he soon defected. Because of this, and without a proper CEO to lead, the Zulu Security Corp went defunct with its operatives scattered and equipment abandoned. However, earlier today, Laurence had contacted the former operations of Zulu Security Corp.

Understating that Laurence had misguided Zulu Security Corp due to his grief, Laurence was willing to make it up and rebrand Zulu Security Corp under a new name and rehire his former operatives to the new company. Zulu Security Corp has officially been rebranded as Phoenix Wing PMC with Laurence Burnway as its CEO and Lily Burnway as its COO leading the company. Phoenix Wing PMC is a sister company to GEOGRAM, therefore both GEOGRAM and Phoenix Wing PMC will be in a permanent partnership with each other.

The former operatives of Zulu Security Corp have now turned a new leaf with Phoenix Wing PMC and are now fighting alongside The Toppat’s and GEOGRAM.

“It would appear Laurence and Lily are now following Aaron’s footsteps, he should be proud.”

- Albert

Glad to see they turned over a new leaf! Yeah, those guys are really nice to have on our side.

(A loud CRASH is heard, and I run in from the Airship's kitchen. We've all headed back to the Toppat Clan's Airship from Splatsville after everyone in Splatsville finished celebrating our victory against Mr. Grizz, and the people we teamed up with decided to tag along with us.)

Hey, can you two come with me into the kitchen real quick? Deep Cut mixed some Carolina Reaper hot sauce into the cookie batter, and we didn't notice until they were already baked and we all tried one each. Some of the Toppats actually liked them for some reason, but the rest were not happy at how spicy they turned out. I tried telling them off, but they slammed this stainless steel mixing bowl on my head.

(I place the bowl down on the floor next to me.)

Could you guys help us in the kitchen? We need to make a second batch without the hot sauce this time.

Sure. As long as I get some spicy cookies.

Wait, Laurence, you actually WANT those?

Lily, a Phoenix is a bird made of fire. One of many reasons why I chose "Pheonix" as my code name is that I love spicy food. I mean, my last name is "Burnway". It kinda runs in the family.

Not for me. I HATE that stuff. I'm more into sweets.

Uh, guys? Kinda on the clock here.

Oh, right. You heard my terms, right, Kyle?

Yes, Laurence. I'll give you the rest of the first batch of spicy cookies we made, in fact. Nobody else would eat them, so it's your lucky day.

Great! Hey, can you make the milk spicy?

No, but people have been asking that same question about some spicy milk to go with the spicy cookies. I can't make milk spicy, but I could probably make some kind of spicy smoothie. Maybe mix some liquified jalapenos and carolina reapers into a smoothie.

We have a deal, then! Lily will handle the regular stuff, I'll handle the spicy stuff.

Just don't go overboard, okay?

Trust me, he won't with me around. Right, Laurence? Yes, Lily. I will stay within my limit.

(As the two walk off to the kitchen with me following suit, I'm reminded of how Alter and Violet acted pre-GEOGRAM, with light teasing and all. They've matured a lot since then, but they still do some friendly teases like that whenever we have a big get-together like this. I guess no matter if it's cousins or brother and sister, some things never change with family.)

(And I don't think I need to narrate this, but you probably can already tell that puts the biggest, dopiest grin on my face. I'm proud of the CSB for becoming the amazing people they are now. To me, they're not just my creations. They're family.)

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 2

Cw: mentions of injuries, death, sex and scars

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife

“I thought you were a nurse during your war.” He said tracing idle circles around a spot on her shoulder where a bullet grazed her and left its mark on her.

They had ended up at his place, tearing each other’s clothes off and fucking again in his magnificent four poster bed.

She’d never been with a man, done things that had him question her uncle’s claim until he learned it for himself.

Eva had wanted him to take her in the confessional, and he had, against the wooden walls that were supposed to be holy.

A religious experience in many ways.

You are the first woman I fuck here; he had said out of breath after.

The only woman you will ever fuck here and there and everywhere, she had corrected, and he agreed only to humor her.

I’m gonna return you to your uncle with a limp, Mrs. Nelson, he had promised as he carried her over the threshold of his house like a bride.

He had no driver, thank God, it had been so long Eva had ridden in the front seat of a car.

They had decided on the flowers, the colors and the name of their first child by the time they got to his place, a lovely townhouse he shared with his sister-in-law who mercifully was visiting family in the country.

Didn’t help he was calling her Mrs. Nelson and introduced her as such to the housekeeper, a middle-aged woman with an Irish accent strong enough to remind her of her grandfather.

“Nurses are in the line of fire too, you know.” She responded, keeping her secrets to herself.

The witch isn’t sure if she trusts him enough to tell her what she really did during the war.

Would he look at her the same way when she tells him she killed Americans by the dozen to avenge her parents, neighbors, and friends?

It is better if we forget it happened, her aunt had said as they wiped her records clean.

But she cannot simply shut the door behind her.

It comes and goes as it pleases, sure her sobriety has helped quiet the screams and the grief that led her to try and take her life several times, but it will never be over.

Jack was lucky that his post as the newly minted General Manager exempted him from military service.

There was a part of him that hated he was seen as less manly for not having fought in France like his brother had, though, but Laurance Nelson had died in his first real battle and left little Gina and her mother in his brother’s care with his kid brother resenting him for leaving them all behind.

Jack had lived and risen to great heights his brother never got to see. Would live to see his children have grandchildren of their own.

Still, Jack has his own set of scars, scars she kissed and caressed as they come to know each other here.

Eva kissed a faded stab wound near his clavicle and kissed every inch of skin down his sternum.

Marked him as hers to the next lady he fucks, then he’ll know she meant what she said that she is the only woman he’ll have from now on.

He had another one in his abdomen, had found him to be ticklish there as she ventured lower until she reached that wondrous thing that made her see God several times that morning.

Jack was an open book, with the right person.

His past he keeps guarded under lock and key and yet she knows it.

Grown up being an errand boy to a gangster and eventually Party Boss of South Boston, who had taken him and his brother under his wing once they were old enough.

His mom had been his whore for a while, needing to keep her children clothed and fed by any means necessary when his father up and left her with four little ones.

By the time Jack and his brother, Laurence, had become men, they’d seen so much death.

After their little brother and sister died, their mother followed shortly after.

Asked PJ Kennedy to watch over them for her on her deathbed and good old Pat had sworn on Saint Patrick himself to honor her last wishes.

The man had done more than that, he’d left him and his brother everything, including the steel factory that Jack eventually became General Manger of in 1914.

She wasn’t supposed to know that. Eva had learned it when she had seen him from her window when he came to meet her uncle on business.

He hadn’t seen her, but she had gotten a good look at the tall American man who came looking for a wife.

Saw his intentions and past laid out bare before her as he came into the house.

“Frank Wallace, Gutin Gang tried to hijack me thinking I’d gone soft when PJ gave me Bethlehem Steel. Last time they every thought of fucking with me.” He says before she asks.

They have been doing this for a while, worshiping each other’s scars and learning the context for them.

“Zacatecas, artillery felt like it was raining from heaven. Didn’t notice I was hit until we got my brother, Alan, to the only hospital left with an operation theater.” The witch supplies feeling more comfortable as she returns her head to his chest. “He died of sepsis a week later.”

“Laurence died in his first battle. Went in ‘because he wanted to die, and God granted him his fucking wish. They gave him a fucking medal for bravery and called him a hero.” Jack says not bothering to hide his bitterness at having his big brother abandon him and his daughter and have only a fucking medal and a folded-up flag to mourn him.

“I’m sorry for your loss, it must have been terrible for you to lose your brother that way.” She says because she understands his pain. “And I’m sorry for making the both of us dredge up the past, Jack.”

Gabriel could have chosen to accept the deal with Carranza and wait out the war in the safety of America with their uncles.

But when he refused to stop fighting, Eva stayed by his side because she didn’t want him to die alone.

In the end he did, everyone dies as alone as they came into the world.

Such a dark turn this wonderful moment took.

“Got to admit for first dates, it sure as hell it’s gonna be one to remember, Mrs. Nelson.” He said, tilting her chin up and kissing her.

“It sure is, Mr. Nelson.”

[fantomette22]

👻👻👻I have seen your bingo for Simon the harrowed. But You said that you didn't have lots of hcs on him. What about now? Any hcs or thoughts you can share now?(i managed four times to send the ask)

Hi Odds! 👻

Indeed sorry but i still don’t have much on Simon (still have a few headcanons i can think of lmao)

First have the 2 ever drawings i did of him. One from july the and the other one from may of last year xD yep of my first bb drawings ahah.

Ok so yeah he’s quite a nuanced character that at the same time : intrigued me, touch me a lot emotionally ;-; , and that i kick the ass of in my 2nd playthrough.

🏹 I guess he’s s foreigner? He would come from a Persian/india type of country. (Yes i ask some friends really good in history what they thought of the weapon design and they told me it was probably that and also inspired by the kriss/kress from Indonesia & Pthumerian & Logarius have really similar weapon to it).

🏹 He’s really bad with firearm and hate the loud sound/ step back it cause. And he probably trained with bow since he was a kid.

🏹 Back where he came from, he was used of walk without shoes on sand etc so that don’t bother him after he become the harrowed.

🏹 He was a bit lost at first in Yharnam but wanted to joined the church hunters. (He arrived a few years after the hamlet thing). He met Ludwig who took him under his wing.

🏹 He prove himself and gained the trust of his superiors so he become a "harrowed" disguised himself as a mere beggar to detect symptoms of beasthood before people transformed. But then he become preoccupied who figure something was. weird... he needed to know what the church was hiding... what was their plan. Why take all this measures?

🏹 He did meet Maria a couple of times but didn't know her well. He know she used to be a hunter. But when he tried to gained some informations about the experiments or the church history + take a look at the archives she was really adamant to share anything. If she was around, poke in some papers is really the last thing you wanna do. (I mean it would be worst with other, you could get into trouble Simon!)

🏹 Actually, there was a time where Brador and him work together and it went well. Pretty ironic after knowing how that end...

🏹 Speaking of that: one day Gehrman disappear living a lot of his belonging at the workshop (some times after Maria passed away).. Laurence got worried and sent many people to try to find him. (Ludwig went into the underground, some people went at Byrgenwerth etc) and Simon & Brador (& maybe 1-2 other) were send next to a lost and abandoned hamlet next to the sea... they found him sitting on the shore. Exhausted, wet and cold but alive.

So that's why Simon become really curious towards the lost place and manage to find some papers that weren't destroyed and learn some dark secrets... That + what happened at the research hall some times earlier that definitely made him turn his back towards the church afterwards, he wanted to learn the truth and discovered what was behind everything. And perhaps managed to stop this entire mess. (+ the freaking Amygdala who died in the middle of Yharnam ahah)

🏹 I guess he might knew the 2nd harrowed guy (the one at the hamlet where we got the set.

🏹 He probably participate in killing Ludwig in real life 😢 he discover what happened but compared to Yamamura, Gratia etc either he wasn't put in a cell thanks to his status or he managed escape.

🏹 I am unsure how he ended up in the hunter's nightmare... an amygdala? He is dead in real life? hm...

Also could be funny if he's afraid of the dark and that's why he got a lantern ahah

And yep that's all for now. Probably forgetting lot of thing.

[katyspersonal]

Alright why don’t you share a few Laurence headcanons now? 👀

Ok i’m gonna help you by being more precise.

- How did he end up at Byrgenwerth in the first place?

- How was his life before that? (Family, childhood etc).

- Is everyone just really religious or what’s Laurence affinity with it? In some what made him become a cleric and devote to religion if you prefer.

- and idk a lil funny headcanon you like to share or smt

Oh, bitchin'! I finally lived to the moment someone asked me about my Laurence!!!!!! Alright let's see,

🩸 How did he end up at Byrgenwerth in the first place?

Oh, in my case, that's simple! I only mention my headcanons about his Loran + Cainhurst roots in every other post about him, so he simply was willing to study history and archaeology! If scattered Cainhurst warriors armours all over the dungeons are of any indication, the nobles were in a long struggle to retract their legacy from their Pthumerian ancestors! Laurence particularly wanted to know more about their superhuman evolution... and what did they do to anger the 'Stars and Moon' themselves.

This is pretty obvious, right? He simply was able to pay for studying, as well as proven himself a worthy scholar with his prior education.

🩸 How was his life before that? (Family, childhood etc).

Well, here is for his dad, Beltran:

Yeah, I am using this image often, but it is easier to just use it than explain myself every time fsdhfhsd (As for evidence for his name being Beltran, this is what Lance said on Twitter ( x ), he is one of the coolest dataminers in BB that can be trusted!)

The more I think about it, the more I feel like maybe the 3D guy in dark feathered cape and the guy from the portrait should be different characters from the same lineage. The grandfather and the father maybe? But yeah, in either case, Laurence's dad was a librarian in Cainhurst! I've been thinking that it's more likely if it was Laurence's mother who was a Loranite, since the portrait guy is like... well, he is very white, you know. And the father adopted the knowledge and the ideals, you know, how in some cases upon marriage, you assume your spouse's religion.

So, Laurence and his family would be a bit of black sheep in the walls of Cainhurst, with legacy dating back to Loran Clerics rather than Pthumeru Ihyll. It has even deeper roots, as the very first Queen of Blood used Fort, the man from Loran that went against Flora and helped Fauna to overpower her, as her sacrifice in unholy marriage ritual. But that's for another time, really, or I'll be here all day! In any case, Laurence had special interest in his legacy, and especially in what could have turned... differently.

You'd then expect him to be close with Maria and my Caryll since childhood, but their interactions were almost exclusively formal! Laurence would also spend his childhood and teen years studying abroad, visiting not very often - and upon visits, mostly sticking with his father! So, as for whether he'd count as childhood friend of Maria and Caryll...?

However, he has been developing quite an ego and arrogant approach! For example, he has been meeting Micolash enough times even before both enrolled in Byrgenwerth, since the boy was under the wing of Hemwick Witches and even one from Cainhurst. Laurence and Micolash had enough of banter, boiling down to Laurence insulting him with the "I do not speak Poor, sorry uwu" attitude xd It has been every other time they've met through YEARS. Well... he was surprised when Micolash proved to be charismatic and intelligent enough to be accepted in Byrgenwerth even without being able to pay, let's say so...

Honestly, he hardly had any friends besides his father back in those days. His enrolling in Byrgenwerth was when his social life truly began! It helped to patch the two decades of awkwardness with Maria up, but as for Caryll, they were still being in passive-aggressive enmity.

🩸 Is everyone just really religious or what’s Laurence affinity with it? In some what made him become a cleric and devote to religion if you prefer.

Ehhhhh, it's a long story... I will link my interpretation of the Healing Church and Byrgenwerth being one before just in case ( x ), but yeah, in a way, Willem started the 'vibe'...? He was the Pope (the first and the last), and Laurence became his Vicar; afterwards, he never dared to appoint another Pope, but his own position became closer to a Bishop. The religious affinity came because of natural reverence for the Great Ones upon encountering them, which Willem and his companions (Dores and Gatekeeper) did first in Isz. I'll just refer to the Doll's dialogue, about how 'Gods' created their creations in such a way that they will naturally love them, unconditionally....

Laurence, in the end, not just 'didn't mind' - he knew how effective the religious institution could be! Like I said, he spent a lot of his life abroad, and was aware of religions in other countries! For example, Gascoigne's lore speaks of him having been the 'Father' (religious) in his country's religion, that is not a rank in the Healing Church. If anything, Laurence would be quick to spot what makes the religion "work" and help to nurture the institution and the influence, even at the start proving to be a better leader than Willem could've been.

But like I said, deep down, Laurence had his own interest and even secret reverence for the 'Moon Presence', that was the secret power standing behind (or above) the 'Stars', that was the emotional fuel for his otherwise very pragmatic, even machiavellian approach. Call in ancestral guilt or whatever... And, again, the healing properties of the blood tie far, far back in history towards defiling a Great One (Flora's unborn Oedon that grew up as merely the voice in the blood of mortals). So as a result, engaging in communion with it would tie to the essence of a deity itself. People were naturally caught up in reverence and sense of connection with something bigger!

🩸 and idk a lil funny headcanon you like to share or smt

The funniest thing I've ever had for my Laurence is this stupid ass outdated meme:

hdgsgs But yeah, in general, I think his favourite was not Ludwig, but Logarius! Ludwig was quite a valuable asset for him, and of course a very good man, but Logarius was loyal to him not out of delusions of the great future or sharing communion with the "moonlight", but genuinely, from the bottom of his heart, and Laurence could appreciate that (sinister) lucidity. My Laurence just leans more towards 'dark' people, such as Logarius, Brador... Micolash, in the scenario where they resolve their life-long rivalry. People like Ludwig and even Gehrman to an extent feel "too good, too pure" for him; he doesn't dislike them, but the decent, well-meaning people fall for the role of his pawns in the end. Logarius was one of the sacrifices for his goals that he never truly recovered from. Yes, awful and cringe, I know.

He also smiled like maybe two times during his lifetime at best fdshfhds He is sad, serious, thoughtful, often even gloomy most of the time. The humour around this character is that he is an absolute dumbass that fucked everything up, that's it.

_________________

Thank you very much for the ask!

[udaberriwrites]

Hold Me Close, Don’t Let Go and Will Not Be A Victim por favor

Thank you for the ask!

Ohoho, now that's a fun combination! I don't know if you have heard about them enough to connect the dots, but these two WIPs are actually connected, since I based Xiu Ya's personality off of Lung Tien Lien (as well as using Novik's honorific and part of the worldbuilding).

So, in short, these two WIPs share the same broadstrokes: Young traumatized white dragon bonds with an equally traumatized/soon-to-be-traumatized man navigating an organization where they are unwelcome, leading to predictable trainwrecks and angst (happy ending not guaranteed)

(I am putting the rest under the cut because it will run pretty long, and will have spoilers for Temeraire)

Hold Me Close

So this is one I have been slooooooowly making progress with in fits and starts, and it's not even close to done.

It's a Temeraire AU where the palace intrigue shifted focus, so that Lien is the one sent to Europe and intercepted by the Reliant, becoming Laurence's partner instead of Temeraire (who remains as Lung Tien Xiang). She is, as mentioned, as traumatized and loyal beyond reason as in canon; so when book 4 arrives and England refuses to hand over the cure, she manipulates the players involved so that Laurence remains in France with her rather than return to his trial for treason, even knowing how that would emotionally shatter him -- at least he'll still be alive to be hurt.

The dragonet learned early on to hate.

Hate was the rattle of her egg as she was moved against her will, hitting the hard shell no matter how careful they were with it as they loaded it in a crate. Hate was the foreign, flowery language that she had to relearn all over again because her first would not serve her after hatching. Hate was the rocking of the ship taking her away, alone, because she had failed before she had done anything else.

Love took longer; its presence was subtler. Love grew in fits and starts, without her realizing it was happening until it was too great to deny. Love was the rocking of the ship lulling her to sleep, with her flank pressed against a warm body. It was a steady voice in yet another strange language that promised to never leave her behind. Love was trust, it was a weight on her back and the air beneath her wings.

Will Not Be a Victim

This is the WIP I have been working on most consistently lately, though it's still growing rather than showing an end in sight 😭 for the AUgust prompt: Crossover/Fusion.

The basics here is that each Peak has not only a Lord, but also a Celestial dragon; for Qing Jing Peak, that is Xiu Ya, who suffers much of the same prejudice Lung Tien Lien did in Temeraire canon. She's distrustful of humans and unwilling to intercede for Luo Binghe when he arrives at the mountain which, unfortunately, means she's also a target for his vengeance when the time comes...

The thought made shame burn preemptively in her heart, nonetheless. She knew what others would say: that having been unable to convince a proper righteous cultivator to accept the title of Peak Lord by her side, she had chosen to settle for an easy to bribe outsider with a dubious past and an unstable golden core.

Xiu Ya looked again across the clearing at the way the boy’s shoulders pulled taut and his hand curled still around the hilt of the bloodied blade. If she could count on anything, she thought, it would be on the little feral urchin not pitying her.

Perhaps he would even be able to understand her.

And if he betrayed her… well, she could always eat him then.

Thanks again, Bleep, this was fun! 😄

[lightshadowverisimilitude]

Temeraire ABO Prologue/?

I am 82,000 words into this one, so, it is safe to say that I will be able to post consistently for a little while at least. 

Laurence has spent the entirety of his adult life hiding his orientation. His worst nightmare is that someone will discover he is an omega.

As requested, tagging @tamaras-random-little-corner @whenflowersfade @memprime  

Watch out for the cut, ducklings.

~*~

Laurence stood at the rail and watched England disappear beyond the horizon. Somewhere ahead of him was China. Below his feet was Yongxing and the whole of his embassy with seven or eight months in close quarters and nothing else to do with their time but try to separate him from Temeraire. 

The part of his heart that had always been drawn to the sea was relaxed in a way it had not been in the months since he and Temeraire had been set ashore in Dover, but he was surprised to realize that it no longer quite felt like home to him. He had been at sea for eighteen years and had always felt a little ill-at-ease on solid land before. 

His first brief trip on a ship had been his uncle’s merchant vessel when he'd been about nine. At the time, he’d thought it a real marvel, though in reality it was quite a small vessel with a crew of only fifteen. They had traveled far enough away from the shore that Laurence could see nothing but endless ocean in all directions. He had felt a swelling sense of wonder, at once both alone in all the world and connected to it in a way that he couldn’t explain. His heart had been for the sea from that moment on. At least until Temeraire.

Laurence reached out and set a hand on Temeraire’s forearm. He wanted nothing more in that moment than their clearing at Loch Laggan, but he could only be grateful for their reunion, even if that reunion lasted only as long as the journey to China. He pulled himself up into the comfortable crook of Temeraire’s arm to enjoy the warmth of the sun and the cool salt breeze. If staying onshore wouldn’t have risked the Admiralty changing their minds about sending him and his whole crew with Temeraire, Laurence would have preferred to remain on land for another two or three weeks to get through his cycle before being confined to the ship.

It did not matter. He had gone through dozens of cycles onboard and could manage another. It would not be as comfortable or easy to hide as when he had been in command of the ship, but that, too, he had done before. A five-day fever would not be uncommon or unexpected on a long sea voyage, though he did not like that it would come so soon when Temeraire was intent on playing the nursemaid and concerned over his health. Laurence could already feel the prickly sense of discomfort of the cycle, and guessed that he had maybe two or three days until he was in the thick of it. He looked up at Temeraire. From the angle, he could really only see the underside of Temeraire’s chin and the thin tendrils dangling over the side of his jaw. 

Laurence would have to try to endure as long as he could to stay at Temeraire’s side and alleviate his concerns as much as possible. If he was lucky, the exhaustion brought on by his recent injury would work in his favor, and he would sleep through the first part of it, though he would need to isolate himself in his cabin once the fever came on or risk discovery.

Over the years, he had grown accustomed to laying the groundwork for his periods of isolation, and coughed into his fist. 

“Laurence?” Temeraire asked immediately, alarmed. “Oh, it is too cold. Roland! Do bring another blanket!” he ordered before Laurence could even get his fist down from his face. 

“My dear, no, I am quite well. Please do not concern yourself.” 

He needn’t have bothered to protest. Roland had jumped up and was already gone belowdecks, though he did manage to put a stop to it before Keynes was summoned, and immediately felt guilty for the ruse. He had never liked it, play acting at being ill, but a convenient fever was the only means he could reliably use to lock himself in his cabin and trust that his crew would not bother him for fear of spreading the sickness. If any of his crews had ever suspected the cause of his illness, no one had let on. 

Roland reappeared with the second blanket, and Laurence withheld his frustration at the treatment as she was directed by his overgrown mother hen to wrap it around his shoulders. She had also taken the initiative of bringing a cushion, and tucked this between his neck and Temeriare’s arm. 

“Thank you, Roland,” Laurence said dryly. She gave him an impish grin and danced back to her play with the other runners. 

It was going to be a long week. 

~*~

Laurence was practiced at hiding the initial onset of his cycle, but that had been easier when he’d had actual duties and could blame the vagaries and stresses of command for any shortness in his tone. It was different when he had a very attentive dragon who had little to do with his time other than hover over Laurence. He watched Riley and Purbeck on deck with a growing sense of jealousy and irritation. Every order built up the annoyance under his skin until it was all he could do to tuck himself in between Temeraire’s arms and feign sleep. Even then, sleep came rarely, so he had to just clench his teeth and try to block out the sounds and scents around him. 

“Laurence, are you quite sure you are well? The wound is not bothering you?” Temeraire asked when Laurence woke in overheated agitation, already struggling out of his nest of blankets before he was even fully aware. 

Laurence blinked rapidly, trying to place himself. The sky was dark above him, stars wheeling ahead. For a panicky moment, he thought he’d fallen asleep on watch, but finally registered Temeraire’s chest at his back and remembered where he was and why. He was parched, and the hand he dragged across his forehead came away slick with sweat. His leg also ached in dull fire of complaint, dragging the memory of the skirmish with the French and subsequent confusion of the harness straps tangled around his leg, the later horror of his crew standing with weapons raised opposite Marines. 

Shaking his head to dislodge the spiral of memory before it dragged him under to waking nightmares, Laurence patted at Temeraire’s chest.  

“I think, perhaps I am not feeling well after all,” he said finally, struggling to his feet.

“I will call for Keynes immediately -!”

“No, Temeraire, please do not disturb anyone on my account. I will just go below and get some sleep. I am certain that I shall be well again soon.” He patted at Temeraire’s hide and stood, but kept one hand on the smooth black scales as he walked around Temeraire’s outstretched arm to the stairs leading off the dragon deck. 

Temeraire called after him in some concern, but Laurence feigned not to have heard and made his way down the hatch, clutching unsteadily at the rail as he went. He felt faint and dizzy, his stomach twisting and chest aching. He did not run into anyone en route to his quarters and bolted the door firmly behind him. Laurence drained the tankard of water on the cabin’s small table, and then crawled into his hammock and closed his eyes against the prickling burn.

The sway of his hammock was familiar, but the motion was not pleasant with his stomach squirming with nausea and his head throbbing. He reached out blindly to put one hand on the bulkhead, but it didn’t help to stabilize him. Heat was already building under his skin, and he guessed that the next morning would see his cycle take hold in earnest.

~*~

Part way through the next day, Riley came to see him. Laurence thought that if anyone had guessed the truth about him, it would be Riley. Laurence had made something of a name for himself by taking young officers under his wing and then recommending them to other captains after a year or so of service. As a result, he had developed an odd reputation as both a fighting captain and something like a school master. Other captains were always happy to take his young officers, already well-trained, while Laurence would accept a new batch of fresh faces at the onset of the following voyage. 

Riley, though, had come up under him from midshipman, and had been his longest-serving officer. It was as much at Riley’s fervent insistence as for the growing friendship between them, but it had been dangerous for him as well. The frequent change over of his officers meant that very few of them had ever seen him through more than one cycle, while Riley had likely witnessed a dozen or more. Surely, enough to do the math. 

Despite this, Riley had never so much as hinted at a suspicion. When he called through the door, Laurence hesitated only a moment before cracking it open. 

“My apologies, Captain Riley. I appear to have a bit of a fever. It is probably best if I do not accept visitors for the time being.” 

Riley did not try to push into the cabin, but nodded to him. “Of course, Captain. Your dragon has been asking for you, and I would like to prevent any … anxiety. Might I carry word to him?”

Laurence considered straightening his clothing and going up topside, but he was in no condition to be around people for anything less than an emergency. As his cycle progressed, he would become increasingly more unstable and have less self control. The damage of being on deck with potentially hundreds of witnesses could not be easily understated. 

“Please tell him I am well enough, just tired. If I am feeling better this evening, I will come up.”

Riley gave him a critical once over, but nodded. He handed a bell through the hand’s breadth of space Laurence had left open. “If you need anything, please ring for it. I have made it a general order to keep this corridor clear during the day where possible, though there will be men at the far end if you have need of anything.” 

“Thank you, Captain,” Laurence said sincerely. His eyes fastened briefly to the cut of Riley’s jaw, the soft space just behind the ear. He shook himself to break the spell and accepted the bell, keeping his fingers well away from Riley’s in the exchange. He closed the door firmly and leaned forward to rest his forehead against it to listen to Riley’s steps as they retreated. 

The pressure low in his pelvis built up so quickly that it made him gag. He doubled over, knees hitting the deck. He tore at the ties of his trousers and shoved his hand inside, but it took nothing more than pushing his fingers against the warmth just behind his balls to come, blinding fast and so hard that it was more pain than pleasure. 

He toppled sideways and gasped for breath, the heat and urgency momentarily abated, though the customary anger took its place. It was a useless anger. Outside of his cycle, he could discipline himself to dismiss it. This was biology, and it was not a thing that had been done to him out of spite, though he had railed against God enough in his youth. In the grips of it, he could barely see past the rage that the majority of the population was never held in this miserable prison, and society would be more than happy to punish him for it if anyone ever learned the truth.

~*~

Sometime around midnight, fucked out on his own hand, oversensitized and shaking with reaction, Laurence nonetheless took the time to clean himself with meticulous care, dress neatly, and make the trip above decks to see Temeraire. The corridor was clear, and the deck was empty but for the officer of the watch, a pair of hands playing cards around a lantern some ways down the deck, and Granby sitting at Temeraire’s elbow with a novel open on his knees, reading aloud by lamplight.  

“Laurence!” Temeraire declared loudly enough to pull the sailors’ attention from their game, interrupting Granby mid-sentence. 

“Captain,” Granby greeted, obviously not at all offended to be interrupted. If anything, he looked rather relieved.

“Mr. Granby, my apologies for the interruption,” Laurence said anyway. Granby had discarded his coat, and his neckcloth hung open over his shoulders, revealing a strip of skin, sweat slick in the hollow of his throat. 

Laurence yanked his eyes forcefully away, already feeling the resurgence of heat below his belt. He cleared his throat and crossed the dragon deck to the rail. Cool spray hit his face and he breathed in the air. He would have liked to have his window open, but, under the right conditions, the water could carry sound for miles. The last thing he needed was Temeraire hearing whatever noises he couldn’t suppress and becoming more worried, or, worse, anyone else hearing him and knowing exactly what he was doing. 

“Are you well, Laurence?” Temeraire asked anxiously, leaning down to bring his eye level with Laurence’s face, his chin just hovering above the railing. “Captain Riley was kind enough to let me know he had spoken with you, but I do hope your wound is not troubling you. Perhaps we should return to England, Laurence. At least until you are well. If Prince Yongxing does not wish to wait, he can go on without us. I am quite sure I could make it back to land from here." 

“My dear, it is only a fever, and you see that I am much improved already. I am sure in another day or so, you will hardly know that I had ever been ill.” He stroked Temeraire’s soft nose. For the first time, he truly wished he could share this burden with someone else. It felt wrong to hide any part of himself from Temeraire, but he had been keeping this secret for so long that he wasn’t sure he could have made himself say it, even if they were not surrounded by ears. Laurence was not willing to rely on the polite fiction of ignorance for this. 

He swayed at another wave of heat boiling up out of his gut and over his chest. He disguised it by leaning against Temeraires’ cheek and resting his forehead on the eye ridge. 

“You do feel quite warm,” Temeraire said in obvious concern. 

“You are right, my dear. Perhaps I will return to my cabin. I will see you tomorrow. Mr. Granby.” He nodded his head to his first lieutenant, who watched him very carefully, but nodded back as Laurence passed him on the way to the hatch. 

~*~

The rest of his cycle passed uneventfully. Once he felt the last of the heat fade and hunger starting to return, he opened his windows to air the cabin out and gathered his linens to be washed. He was greeted warmly at the breakfast table, and reassured those present of his returned health. He was ravenous, but made himself maintain the fiction of having just recently recovered from illness and took his gruel and biscuit without complaint. 

Depending on their luck with the winds and how much Riley pushed their speed, he might have one more cycle to withstand aboard. He could not honestly say if he would prefer to weather the potential suspicion or concern of appearing to catch the same brief illness twice in so short a period, or risk being incapacitated in China. 

He would endure it either way. He hardly had a choice in the matter.

[imjustalonesomewriter]

Let’s Hope We’re Lucky - Part Three

Wow, Part Three. Surprising I’ve made it this far, isn’t it?

Word Count: 1,504

“Do you think Mr. McGill is here?” Ya asked as they walked through the front gate of the scrapyard. The walk there had been silent.

“Probably. The building’s lights are on.” Tony pointed to the small cinder block building in the corner of the scrapyard. It held Mr. McGill’s office, a bathroom, and a small garage that held the car Mr. McGill was currently fixing.

Ya and Tony walked to their usual spot near the Piper Cadet and sat down under its wing. Ya pulled her notebook and pencils out of the plane and flipped to a blank page.

“So,” she said, scribbling the little information they had, “What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” Tony’s head was resting on his hands and he was staring forward towards a giant pile of scrap, “Do you have any ideas?”

“Not really. We can’t afford a plane ticket to Chicago, let alone Italy,” Ya checked her phone quickly before putting her phone back in her pocket, “That’s like two grand for both of us.”

Tony let out a long, exasperated sigh, “What about taking a boat?”

“Now that’s even more expensive,” Ya leaned her head against the plane and looked up to the sky, “What to do, what to do? It’s not like your ‘dad’ or my sister will let us do any of this stuff, anyways.”

There were a few minutes of silence, except for Ya scribbling down notes then erasing them, “Oh!”

“What?”

“What if we flew there ourselves?”

“I already told you, w-” Ya started, but Tony cut her off.

“No, no, no!” Tony was moving his hands crazily, “I mean fly, by ourselves! In our own plane!”

Tony shot up and sprinted towards the gate, where the plane was still parked, “We could take the Beechcraft!”

“No freaking way.” Ya stood up as well, “Do you seriously think your dad would let you do that?”

“No, I don’t!” Tony held his hands on his head, frustrated, “Queenie, we’re going to run away!”

“We’re?! Oh, Tony, you’ve lost your mind.”

“Well, I’m not doing it without you. And I know you only want the best for me.”

“I don’t want you dead either!” Ya pointed to the plane, “You have less than a hundred flight hours to your name and not even an hour of those are in that plane! I don’t trust you!”

“I think you should, Miss. Liu,” a voice came from behind them. Ya let out a high pitched screech and Tony held his fists out, ready to fight. 

“Who’s there?!” Tony shouted in the direction of the voice. 

“It’s only me, boy,” Mr. Gill appeared from behind a pile of scrap. He was holding part of a car’s bumper in his hand, “Don’t worry.”

“Mr. McGill, thank God it’s only you,” Ya held her hand to her chest. She was still breathing heavily from being scared.

“Thank God? Queenie, he heard my whole plan!”

“I did indeed,” Mr. McGill looked at Tony with caring eyes, “and I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“What?!” Ya and Tony exclaimed in unison.

“I think it’s great.” Mr. McGill said calmly, “Please, kids, follow me to the garage.”

Mr. McGill didn’t wait for them before he started walking to the building. Tony followed and Ya did after she grabbed her trusty notebook and pencil. 

Once they arrived, Mr. McGill unlocked the front door and let them in. The room was small, but easily fit the three of them. Mr. McGill’s desk, which held a small computer and chair, was under one of the two windows in the room. Across from that was a dingy, old couch with a picture of a racetrack above it. Next to the couch was a door to the garage and in the middle of the far wall was the door to the bathroom. 

The teens sat down as Mr. McGill put the bumper in the garage. Then, he reentered the room and plopped down on his chair. He was the first to speak.

“So, you’re running away in my plane?” He said as he took off his hat and rubbed what was left of his hair.

“Yes, but actually, no,” Tony said. Mr. McGill lifted an eyebrow, “Well, maybe..”

“Why are you?” Mr. McGill asked.

“Why are we doing this? You caught us, Mr. McGill. We aren’t doing it anymore. Well, I wasn’t in the first place, b-”

Mr. McGill lifted his hand and Ya went silent, “Just because I ‘caught’ you doesn’t mean I’m going to stop you. Now, I have a suspicion of why you’re doing this, but please, boy, tell me.”

Tony cleared his throat and pulled on the collar of his shirt, “I- I don’t know where to start. I ordered this DNA thing, this test, to see whether or not my dad was my dad, cause, you know, everyone’s saying I don’t look at all like him. Well, we- I got the results back and, surprise surprise, he isn’t my biological dad.”

“Where’s your real dad?” Mr. McGill said with a knowing look.

“Naples, It-” Tony started, but this time, Ya was the one who cut him off.

“Wait a minute, did you know this?” Ya asked. She was leaning forward in her seat, ready for the answer.

Mr. McGill went silent. Tony and Ya exchanged glances.

“Mr. McGill, is there something you haven’t told me?” Tony asked. Tears were welling up in his eyes again. Mr. McGill sighed.

“I knew your mother as a little girl. She looked just like you,” Mr. McGill paused for a moment and took a book of photos out of the top drawer of his desk. He flipped to a page and handed it across the room to Tony, “That’s her on the left. Anyways, when she grew older, I saw her less and less. Then one day, she came to me after a trip to Italy sobbing.” “Sobbing?” Ya said, “Why was she crying?” “Because she was pregnant, Miss. Liu.”

“Pregnant?” Tony asked. Now he was leaning forward, completely captivated by the story. “Of course! Do you think you just popped out of thin air?” Mr. McGill let out a chuckle, then quickly returned to his serious tone, “Anyways, days and weeks and months passed until she was eight months into the pregnancy. Her stomach was huge, at least double the size that my wife’s was. I insisted that she stay in the United States to give birth, but she flew back to Italy to have the baby with the father present. When she came back, well..”

“Well, what?” Tony asked. Mr. McGill didn’t respond, “C’mon Mr. McGill, you have to tell me.” Mr. McGill cleared his throat, “When she returned, she said she had twins.. but she only came back with one child. She left the other one, Franco, in Italy with Laurence-” “Lauro.” “Yes, Lauro.” Mr. McGill sighed, “And that’s that. She married your father, who swore never to tell you who your real father was, then she died in that accident. I’m shocked he’s kept it from you that long.” Tony sat there and didn’t say anything. Ya was the first to break the silence, “Well.. what about the plane?”

Mr. McGill raised his eyebrows, “Hm?” “The plane. You caught us trying, well planning, to steal it! Aren’t you going to do anything?” Ya exclaimed. “Yes,” Mr. McGill trailed off for a little before continuing, “I will do something, but it definitely isn’t what you’re expecting.” Tony and Ya were on the edge of their seats. Well, Ya was, Tony was leaning against the back of the couch with his hand rubbing his forehead. He seemed to be in a daze.

“What?” “I’ll give you the plane and enough money to fuel it,” Mr. McGill said casually. Tony and Ya looked at him with shocked expressions, “It sounds fun and I know you kids don’t do many fun things during the summer.” “What?!” Ya exclaimed. Tony’s expression had suddenly gone from shocked to extremely happy.

“That’s amazing, Mr. McGill! I promise that w-” Mr. McGill held up his hand and Tony went silent.

“Don’t get your hopes up just yet, boy. You’ll be flying across the Atlantic Ocean and several countries in a tiny turboprop that can barely hold a thousand pounds, not counting fuel. You’ll need to stay on the outskirts of cities because you know your sister will file a missing person’s report, Miss. Liu. There are so many things you need to consider.” Tony stroked his chin, “We can do it if we leave during a night with a full moon.” “Tonight’s a full moon,” Ya said. She looked at the giant smile growing on Tony’s face and quickly spoke again, “I should not have said that.” “That’s it! We can leave tomorrow at, like, 2am!” Tony stood up and grabbed the notepad out of Ya’s hands.

“Do you think you can devise a flight plan in one night?” Mr. McGill asked.

“No, but you can.”

[notajoinerofthings]

Why are you sick of Laurence‘s face? If I may ask?

because he recently transformed from “entitled dude who is unaware of his own privilege and says ignorant things every now and then” into “entitled dude who is best friends with right-wingers and happily shares his racist, sexist, and transphobic opinions with everyone who does not run away fast enough while also blaming feminism and ‘woke culture’ for the fact that his wife left him and that he failed to become that successful even though he had everything handed to him on a silver plate” and trust me, it’s not a good look.

some of his lowest moments (that i know of) include

lecturing a black female academic on racism and telling her that she is being racist to him by claiming that the media’s treatment of meghan markle is racist

criticising the movie 1917 for its portrayal of a sikh soldier bc that “forced diversity” distracted him from the story?? idek

on a podcast with one of his alt-right buddies he claims that he once broke up with a woman bc she liked the gilette ad against toxic masculinity and now he refuses to date women under 35 bc they are “too woke”

other articles worth reading

laurence fox’s guide to being an instant right-wing celebrity twat

laurence fox and the radicalisation power of right-wing youtube

want to know what racism feels like? ask laurence fox

tl;dr: i’m pretty disgusted with him as a person right now and refuse to give him any more of my attention (bc that’s what he ultimately wants, attention) (which is also why i really, really hope that they won’t ever make a hathaway series bc he frankly does not deserve the money and fame) seeing lozza’s face would probably make me mad and potentially ruin my enjoyment of lewis and especially my love for james, which is why i choose to stay away for the time being

[aelixandra]

Dreaming On Your Feet: Chapter 30

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Aelin Galathynius is one of the newest company members of the Rifthold Ballet Theatre, and she is eager to make all of her dreams a reality. She has the talent, the ambition, the walls no one can get past, and the thick skin that no one can get under. Except for new principal dancer Rowan Whitethorn. He’s arrogant, talented, and infuriating - and they just might have more in common than they think.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Chapter 30: Between the Lines

Twenty minutes.

That was all the time Rowan had between Act One and Act Two – and he knew just what to do with it.

He needed to write.

With great reluctance, he tore himself away from Juliet’s – no, Aelin’s – balcony and ran upstairs to his dressing room.

He pulled his white, flowing shirt off over his head, quickly hanging it back up on the wardrobe rack. He picked his backpack up and set it on his chair, rummaging through it and tossing irrelevant things aside.

“Come on, I know it was in here yesterday,” he muttered to himself, taking his sweatshirt out of the bag next –

Thud.

He looked down at his feet to see exactly what he was looking for.

His journal.

Rowan bent to pick it up. As he opened it, he realized he was holding it backwards and upside down.

Because the corner of a piece of paper was sticking out from what was apparently a hidden pocket in the back cover of the journal.

His heart pounded as he pulled out the folded paper, opened it, and began to read.

 ~

Who knows what will have happened by the time you get here? Or maybe you’ll never write in this journal and you’ll never see this.

Which would be a problem, because then you’d never know how I feel.

I hated you, you know. From the moment you walked into class with that condescending little smirk on your stupidly handsome face. You reminded me so much of who I was and what I lost, and I hated it. I had lost everything – and then you came along.

And then you said two words to me that first partnering class. Do you remember?

“Trust me.”

Gods, you had no idea what you were asking of me.

But despite everything. . . I started to.

I eventually trusted you with every single one of my broken, fractured pieces, and you helped put me back together. Now, as I’m writing this, I’m the person that I want to be – because of you.

And in case you were wondering, I still trust you. I trust you more than anyone or anything in this world.

There was always one thing I held back from you, though.

My heart.

But now, I’m trusting you with it. The last piece I have left to give of myself.

Do with it what you like, but it’s yours. It’s been yours since the first time we danced together.

Back in the fall, you said you wanted to know everything about me. Well, Rowan Whitethorn, there’s one more thing need to know.

Now all you have to do is ask me what it is.

Merry Christmas,

Aelin

 ~

Rowan’s vision blurred about halfway through her letter.

Christmas.

Christmas.

He plopped down into a chair as it hit him.

The journal hadn’t been Aelin’s Christmas present to him.

It had been her heart.

She had told him to write his own story.

And she had already put herself within its pages.

Rowan smiled and swiped at his eyes. He grabbed a towel and lightly dabbed at his face before patting the sweat off of his upper body. He took a deep breath. There were still two acts to go, after all. He put his Act Two tunic on, leaving it unhooked for now to let his back cool off. Then came his sweatpants and his dance boots; it was important to keep his muscles warm.

She deserves a Romeo at the top of his game, he thought to himself.

With one last look in the mirror, he headed back downstairs, silently counting down the minutes until he could dance with Aelin again.

----------

Aelin sat in her dressing room, already changed back into her teal dress from Act One. She wore sweatpants underneath the dress and her warmup boots on her currently-bare feet.

In her hands was Rowan’s Christmas present to her.

She scanned the pages and the highlighted text. After the way he had just kissed her – gods above, Rowan had kissed her – she couldn’t help but wonder if she had missed something. A hidden message, maybe.

Like the note she had left in his journal. . .

“Dancers, ten minutes till the top of Act Two, ten minutes to Act Two,” came Amren’s voice over the backstage monitor.

Aelin only had one scene in this entire act, so she wasn’t worried as she kept searching the words of Shakespeare, hoping to find words of Rowan’s instead.

By now, she had read it so many times that she knew which lines were highlighted already.

 Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!

For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. . .

 Can I go forward when my heart is here?

 It is my lady, O, it is my love!

O, that she knew she were!

 “Oh, Rowan,” she whispered as the highlighted words began to make sense.

 Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. . .

 Forgetting any other home but this. . .

 Heaven is here, where Juliet lives. . .

Aelin smiled as tears burned behind her eyes. Rowan hadn’t been trying to tell her that he was Romeo; he was using Romeo’s words to tell her how he felt about her. She just hadn’t seen it. “You were trying to tell me all along, weren’t you?”

She pictured him back in December, poring over the play and trying to pick the lines he wanted her to see. It had probably been as agonizing for him as writing the note had been for her.

Wait.

Has he found the note yet?

No. If he had, he would have come asking.

Wouldn’t he?

“Five minutes to places, five minutes –”

Aelin practically leapt out of her chair, setting the copy of Romeo and Juliet on the counter. She needed to see him. She just –

Is this what love feels like? Wanting to be around him without knowing why?

Closing the door behind her, she made her way down the hall to the stairwell. After one flight, she caught sight of a familiar, silver-haired head, whose back was exposed by his still-undone tunic.

“Wait!” she called.

Rowan stopped, his back still to her.

“Your – your hooks,” she explained a bit sheepishly.

“Ah,” he replied, still facing away.

She lifted her hands tentatively to the row of hooks and eyes, starting with the bottom one. The way the costume was made, the backs of her fingers touched his back every time she hooked one.

He was so still, she wasn’t sure if he was still breathing.

Or if she was, for that matter.

She finally made it to the top hook at the base of his neck. As she hooked it together, his hand suddenly covered hers. He gently tugged her hand, pulling her around to stand in front of him.

Words failed Aelin. Especially with him looking at her like this.

“Thank you.” Rowan’s green eyes never left hers as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers. Then he laced his fingers with hers, and they descended the rest of the stairs together.

When they made it backstage, Rowan gave her hand one last squeeze. “I’ll see you in a few minutes?” he said quietly.

Aelin nodded, giving him an encouraging smile as she watched him join Aedion and Dorian with a few warmup jumps.

And she began counting down the minutes until she could dance with him again.

----------

The second act was a lot more work for Rowan.

He had made it through the first marketplace scene, which ended with Romeo, Mercutio, and Benvolio teasing Juliet’s Nurse, there to give Romeo a letter from Juliet.

That led to where Rowan was now.

He entered Friar Laurence’s cell, showing the Friar the letter. With a kind smile, the Friar smiled, nodding his consent.

Next came the Nurse, who gave the Friar a low curtsy, gesturing that her young mistress was on her way. Rowan stood waiting by the Friar.

The breath left his lungs again when she appeared, running in with steps light as air.

Aelin took the Friar’s hand and curtsied low. Rowan stepped forward with a hand outstretched, and she took it with a brilliant smile. They knelt before the Friar together, waiting as he blessed their marriage.

Marriage.

Rowan’s thoughts drifted as he waited for his next cue.

Here I am, marrying Juliet onstage in front of a full house.

What would it be like to actually get married?

What would it be like to marry Aelin?

Rowan’s gaze shot to Aelin, whose turquoise eyes were pensive behind her smile.

Is she wondering the same thing?

He stood up with the music, helping Aelin to her feet. He took in every detail of her face as he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers once again.

He had already kissed her once, but this time – it still felt like the world tilted under his feet. He didn’t know if she would ever kiss him outside of this ballet, so he savored everything about it. The tickle of her false eyelashes on his cheek, the softness of her lips, the way they curved into a little smile against his.

Rowan still had a difficult remainder of the act, but as the Nurse pulled his Juliet away, he knew that her kiss could get him through the rest of this act.

And her presence alone, just knowing that she was a few steps away. . . that could get him through anything.

----------

Aelin stood in the wings, watching as Rowan picked up a fencing foil from the stage floor, a few feet from where Dorian lay dead as Mercutio.

Rowan turned to face Lorcan, tonight’s Tybalt, and she caught sight of the blistering wrath that blazed in his eyes.

It took her by surprise.

Aelin realized that had never seen him truly angry before. Frustrated, yes; annoyed, yes – never this angry. But the way he was going after Lorcan, she figured she was getting a glimpse; a sliver of the bitter, broken man he had been after Lyria’s death.

She knew that feeling all too well.

A small part of her wondered if he remembered what she had told him about Lorcan, about him crowning her the “fire-breathing bitch-queen.”

She could certainly fight her own battles when it came to Lorcan Salvaterre.

But if Rowan was making it extra hard for Lorcan on her behalf. . .

Well, she wouldn’t complain.

[werewolves-are-real]

Hi, i am sorry for asking you this but today we put our dog down, after fifteen years of caring and loving. this has devastated me and my mental health wasn't in a great place to begin with. I was wondering if maybe you could write a tiny Temeraire fic? or maybe a snippet of what you are working on? anything to help me get distracted? Again sorry for being pushy and thank you for your time.

I’m sorry to hear that! And, you don’t have to apologize. I’m exhausted today and not really in a writing-mood, but here’s a short piece from a WIP that starts during The Black Powder War. (I don’t know if I’ve shown this one? I don’t think so, though).

14thOctober

1807

______________________________

The hill is quiet when Lien touchesdown. Laurence and young Lieutenant Badenhaur crouch flat behind athicket of bushes and watch the Celestial's white wings splay brieflyagainst the sky as she kneels and lets her passenger descend.

The man who appears beside her isarrayed humbly and looks utterly unremarkable; nonetheless heunsettles Laurence. He is cloaked only in the coat of agrenadier-corporal, though his shoulders have no bars, and hisoutsized boots splash over the muddy terrain when he paces. Lien sitsback on her haunches and stares out over the field. The man moves tojoin her. They are both facing away from the bush.

“It will not be long now,” the mansays in French. His voice is strangely accented.

“Of course not,” is Lien's reply.“As I said.” And the man huffs.

All at once Laurence understands.

He turns to make his discovery known,and this is when he realizes that he has been too slow. Badenhaur hashis musket raised to his shoulder. Bullets of sweat gleam against theskin of his neck.

His finger starts to move.

Later, when he looks back on thismoment, Laurence will not understand his own motivations. He willrecognize the intrinsic bonds of honor and yet rebel against deepernotions of duty. But here, now, he only recognizes something worsethan death – cowardice. “Damn you!” he cries, too loud, andshoves the man's hand away.

A shot cracks through the air.

Lien snorts and whirls around. The man– Napoleon Bonaparte – grabs up his sword in a ring of steel.

And Laurence and Badenhaur fall out oftheir bush.

“Damn you, Sir!”Badenhaur cries. The Prussian officer speaks in French, their onlyshared language. His voice holds more fear than anger; they grapplefor the musket and tumble gracelessly over the dirt. “I could havekilled – I could have - “ His voice trembles; the evening lightcatches his face and he looks very young.

“Hold!” criesanother voice finally the two still. Napoleon approaches slowly,sword still raised, and assesses them carefully. “The gun – onthe ground.”

Badenhaur does notmove. With a slow breath Laurence tugs the musket from his fingersand lays it down.

Napoleon's eyesflick to him and to the rank-bars of his coat. But before he canspeak Lien rears to all four and stiffens her ruff. “WilliamLaurence,” she says. “Will you take everyone from me like anassassin in the night? I will kill you before you do.”

“I do not thinkhe meant to kill me,” Napoleon answers her. “ - But you did.”He glances almost dismissively to the lieutenant, then looks back toLaurence. “Why did you stop him?”

Laurence slowlystraightens and regains his feet. “We are not assassins, YourMajesty.”

“I hope not –you are bad at it.” Napoleon taps his boot impatiently against theground. “I thank you for saving my life, Captain, but there islittle I can do to repay you. If I released you here, now, would Ihave your word that you would not return to the fighting – that youwould not tell your compatriots of whatever information you havelearned?”

“No,” Laurencesays honestly. Badenhaur looks at him furiously but says nothing.

Napoleononly nods. He steps closer, sword gleaming. “Then I must haveyour parole,” he says. The weapons hangs between them, sharp butornamental; Lien's loathing is the real threat.

“You have it.” There is littleother choice.

“I will not ask for the word of yourcompanion; I daresay I do not trust it.” With this insult delivered– not unjustly – Napoleon sheathes his weapon and turns to nod atLien. “We will return to camp, then,” he says. “Captain, youcan be sure we will make your time as comfortable as possible.”

“Oh, I do not doubt it,” Laurenceanswers grimly.

_______________________________

“Do you come bearing gifts, MyEmperor?” As they descend a man approaches with the distinctmarkings of a Marshal. “A nice miracle - you leave to scout andreturn with two officers.”

“There has been some miracle,certainly – this man saved my life, though I think he begins toregret it.” This is true enough. “See that he is treated well. Donot trust the other one.”

The mysterious Marshal eyes Laurenceand Badenhaur, but only says, “Of course, Sire.”

There are other prisoners in the camp– a huddled, bitter group of men surrounded by neat lines of Frenchprivates. Badenhaur and Laurence are deposited among the Prussianofficers and left alone.

“Good god,” says the lieutenant.“I could have had him...”

Laurence looks away. One of thePrussians stomps over, his hands thrust under his arms for warmth,and demands something in Russian; Laurence shakes his head. “Icannot understand, Sir.”

Then in French: “What news? Have theEnglish arrived at last? Are we winning?”

Laurence notes the man's rank. “Howold is your news, Major...?”

“Major Pahlke. Two weeks at least.”

“I am very sorry to say thatJena-Auerstadt has fallen, and several other cities; the Russians areretreating.”

The man curses and kicks at theground. “The war could be over now!” Badenhaur bursts suddenly.

“That is quite enough, thank you,”says Laurence sharply.

“Sir - “

The Major frowns between them, butBadenhaur grudgingly falls silent.

The lieutenant has been amongTemeraire's complement for a relatively short time, a borrowedofficer from the ranks of the Prussian aviators to fill theheavy-weight's crew. Laurence has found him dependable but hasty; nowhe watches the man closely, hoping he will do nothing to unhingetheir already untenable position.

They will have to speak later. At lasthe turns back to Pahlke. “Have you heard anything of their plans?”Laurence asks, but the Major only shrugs and shakes his head.

The foreign camp makes an odd sight,and this sense of disconnect only rises the longer Laurence sits andwatches the activity around them. The sibilant sounds of French riseand fall around the camp, lending a strangely alien feel to whatwould otherwise be a mundane picture. There is another difference,too, that strikes Laurence about the French forces; the dragons areeverywhere.

They have not been relegated to somemuddy fields half a league away, and couriers are not skulkingnervously around the edge of the camp. Dragons – so, so manydragons – lay sprawled evenly among the general organized chaos ofthe ranks. Middle-weights, heavy-weights, light-weights. At firstthere seems to be an appalling number of fire-breathers, but thenLaurence realizes that there are a great many painted Papillon-Noirsskulking along the ground in mimicry of their more flamboyantcousins.

Everything is bitterly cold this closeto the edge of the country. Laurence sits down and watches the bustleof the camp slow. Pale stars glare down over the encampment, and hewonders what has become of Temeraire.

______________________________

“March, now, you lazy bastards,”the French aviator tells them without much hurry. “The first tofall behind makes a meal for Pravitas.”

The little Plein-Vite is unlikely toeat anyone, Laurence knows, but this threat affects the Prussianprisoners anyway. They scowl and grumble but keep walking. Therecently named Pravitas, for his part, seems unusually willing tooblige in his role as Terrible Monster; he bounces along after themen and flashes his long talons through the air with great delight.

Light flurries of snow cover the trailahead, but most of it has been pounded into mud and slush by theFrench army. The prisoners struggle along from a considerabledistance. Dragons fly overhead and Laurence squints against thewinter sun to look at them, but he finds only supply-beasts andcouriers - no sign at all of a smooth black hide or an English flag.

Of course Temeraire should not pursuehim. Bringing the eggs to Dover should be – must be – his firstpriority, and Laurence trusts that Granby will recall his duty. Asfor Temeraire himself...

Temeraire has watched the eggs fromTurkey as though he laid them personally. Laurence must trust thatthis unique instinct for paternalism will stall the Celestial where,he acknowledges wincingly, obedience will not; Laurence has noillusions about Temeraire's thoughts on duty and service.

“Yes, Napoleon himself,”Lieutenant Badenhaur says. “Why would I invent such a thing? Didyou not see us land with the Emperor's dragon?”

Laurence stiffens. The noise of theprisoners' march has steadily increased despite the irate demandsfrom the two-hundred-or-so accompanying soldiers. After all, theprisoners themselves care little if they are heard by allied Russianscouts – indeed they they would welcome it. NeverthelessBadenhaur's voice splits clear over the mingled complaints and jeersrunning through the lines. Laurence feels eyes comes to settle on hisback, and they are not friendly.

He keeps walking.

They make the next camp upwind of themain army. Their position is low and the French officers complainbitterly about exposure, the lack of sense implicit in walking towardthe cold Russian north.Laurence does not bother to hope. Snow continues to fall.

The mutinous mutterings of theprisoners are no surprise. Laurence, seeing the suspicious glances heattracts, does not join in any obvious plotting but contents withwandering near the boundaries of the designated holding-area where aperimeter of French guards are stationed.

“Three this week – and I will beglad to call myself a war-hero with no actions to my name,” saysone private to another. They glance at Laurence as he wanders by but,apparently deeming him harmless, continue: “The pickings aregetting slim, anyhow; but I still find it hard to think the Russiansare retreating. Should they not outnumber us?”

“Two to one at least, especiallywith Lefebvre and Davout gone North; but that is nothing new. And theRussians do not have our Little Corporal.” The second privatelaughs.

Good morale is an excellent sign amongsubordinates; it is strangely disheartening among the enemy. Laurencewatches as the shift changes and the two hurry away to huddle by asmall fire. There is some petty satisfaction in that, at least.

Night comes with a forced curfew.Soldiers come through the ranks of prisoners threatening anyone whowon't lay down with the ends of their rifles. Dawn breaks too soonand then they are marching again.

Laurence is intimately glad that hehas never been a foot soldier. The tedium alone is wearisome,especially with no respite or company. He misses Temeraire most ofall; every flash of black looks like the shadow of dragon-wings,though it is ludicrous to think that he would not hear a twenty-tonbeast approaching.

Suddenly the whole procession halts.“Quiet, now,” says one of the French officers. He speaks thecommand in his own language, and a subordinate repeats it in Germanand Russian.

It is evening – the sun is stillhigh enough for Laurence to make out a sudden tension among theofficers. Many of the Frenchmen grip their rifles, some their swords.The Plein-Vite, Pravitus, sits on his haunches looking alert.Laurence stands very still and tries to listen for whatever they haveheard.

The other prisoners have differingideas.

“Hier drüben!”shouts Major Pahlke. “Hier drüben!”

Shapes burst through the distanttreeline. Crackling shots ricochet through the air and shatter,leaving behind only the evidence of a dozen bodies keeling limp andsenseless among the French ranks. Even as these lines stiffen andcome together, tightening for an assault, the Prussian prisonerssurge forward.

Laurence joins them  in the madcharge. He has little choice – desperate hands press him forwardfrom every side, and then the first of the unarmed soldiers descendupon their captors.

“Zut!”

A gunshot burstsnear his ear as Laurence plows into a French private; they fallgrappling until Laurence tugs away the man's pistol and hits him overthe head with it. He leaps back to his feet, fumbling to reload;someone jostles him from behind and then falls over, dead from ahead-wound as the shot resounds through the air.

The undermannedFrench lines, besieged on two sides, are already breaking apart.Laurence hears the officers struggling to keep an orderly retreatinstead of letting their men flee in panic. Nearby a group ofsoldiers mass together into a square, so Laurence joins a group ofRussians rushing at them. The square breaks before it forms and theFrench run.

The smoke isclearing already. Laurence follows the Russians until a hand grabshis arm.

“Traitor,”someone says, in alarmingly clear English.

Fire burstsagainst his skull, and Laurence crumples.

[berniesrevolution]

In recent weeks, a controversy has popped up pitting the centrist #Resistance and progressive wings of the Democratic party against each other. This iteration of what has become a common battle regards a rising star of the establishment Democratic party—Kamala Harris, junior senator from California. Although the recent debate on Harris is relatively new, sparked by an articlefrom The Week by Ryan Cooper titled “Why Leftists Don’t Trust Kamala Harris, Cory Booker, and Deval Patrick,” it’s only the newest incarnation of a toxic dynamic that has been in full swing since 2016, where the two sides do battle over whether leftist critique of certain politicians is proof that the critics are racist, misogynist, or both. No matter how specific and policy-oriented the left’s critiques are, a certain class of liberals will never let the debate be about policy. This piece is an attempt to explain their tactics, and outline a strategy for overcoming them.

Typically, there are five steps to the centrist smear.

Step One: Define the Enemy as a White Male, Erase All Others

First, the leftists making the critiques are depicted by liberals as being almost exclusively white, male, and (often) privileged. The most popular method for carrying this out is the coining and weaponizing of the term “Bernie Bros.” Sometimes (white) female Bernie supporters are begrudgingly acknowledged, only to be dismissed as traitors suffering from “internalized misogyny,” or as flighty young singles supporting Sanders because that’s where the boys are—as Gloria Steinem, among others, claimed. Leftists of color, however, are rarely acknowledged even begrudgingly, and are often ignored outright in an act of erasure.

Step Two: Define the Leftist Motivation as Racist/Misogynist/Etc.

The second tactic of centrist liberals is to portray these supposedly exclusively white, male leftists as being solely motivated by misogyny and racism in their criticisms of women and minority politicians. They tend to do this by ignoring, minimizing or outright dismissing any policy criticisms leveled against these politicians, and by claiming that these female and or minority politicians are being held to a higher standard of purity testing than their white, male counterparts.

Step Three: Present Identity Politics and Class Politics as a Zero-Sum Game

Step three from the centrist playbook is to maintain that identity politics are being thrown under the bus in favor of class-only politics—regardless of the substantive policy and character critiques put forth. Many #Resistance-style liberals have a very narrow definition of good identity politics that only allows for superficial diversity in the form of representation optics. For example, a board of directors of a corporation may exploit its black workers and run abusive third-world sweatshops and practice environmental racism, but as long as that board has a proportionate number of women and minorities, the liberal idea of identity politics is usually satisfied. Therefore, even if the critique against a minority or woman candidate is for an action that disproportionately targeted black people—expanding the prison-industrial complex by locking up black men at an increased rate, for example—centrists perpetually claim that the greater crime to the marginalized group is the fact that anyone dares to criticize a politician from that group. Even when that minority candidate is being criticized for a policy that hurts minorities and women, the lie must be maintained—criticism of that politician is criticism of the group, and identity politics in all its forms.

Step Four: Attack the Delivery of the Message, Not the Message Itself

Step four is simple tone policing—divert the topic to “civility of the discourse,” shifting the focus to how the critic delivered her criticism, rather than the substantive merit of said criticism. This leads directly to smarm and virtue signaling—a pattern that repeatedly occurred in 2016 with Hillary Clinton, and is happening again with Kamala Harris. In both cases, liberals press the idea that criticisms only ever come from privileged white men, are too rude and abusive to ever be constructive, and only ever stem from racism and sexism—usually in the form of a total dismissal of all identity politics and a contempt for the oppressed identities they’re meant to protect. Critics of these politicians are never acknowledged as having legitimate concerns on policy and character.

Step Five: Personality, Not Policy

The fifth and final step for the neoliberals is to make the political debate a matter of charismatic personalities, or “names.” This is why we see so many pieces lamenting that Kamala Harris has a “Bernieland problem,” or is struggling with “Bernie Sanders supporters,” despite the fact that neither Bernie Sanders or anyone in his inner circle are actually behind any of the Harris public criticisms, and most of these leftists haven’t brought up Sanders at all in their critiques. (Some centrists, such as Laurence Tribe, have gone so far as to accuse Sanders of masterminding the attacks, in the absence of all evidence.) These pieces often refuse to call the critics “leftists” or “progressives,” because that would give a clearer idea of policy beliefs and ideals.

(Continue Reading)

[aion-rsa]

Watchmen Timeline Explained

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We've made a complete and chronological timeline of the events of Watchmen, from the original book to the HBO show. It...wasn't easy.

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This article contains nothing but spoilers for Watchmen, both the book and the HBO series.

HBO’s Watchmen is non-linear and occasionally confusing (or “infuriating” as Dr. Manhattan puts it) in its use of time. The book from which it draws inspiration is similarly non-linear and occasionally confusing in its use of time. To make matters even trickier, the show expands upon and even retcons events that take place or are alluded to in the book.

So what’s a fan to do? Why, make a complete and chronological Watchmen timeline, of course! That’s a perfectly sane and normal activity for any well-adjusted adult, and it certainly didn’t give me any severe migraines or make me question my own perception of time at any point. Nope. None at all.

read more - Watchmen: Unanswered Questions We Have From the Finale

To compile this complete Watchmen timeline, I only used stated dates from the book by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, dates and events from the show itself, dates noted in HBO’s official supplemental materials, Peteypedia, and the occasional date from actual real life (for example, the birth of lawman Bass Reeves). I don’t consider DC’s Before Watchmen prequels canon (and apparently neither does this show) but I DID cheat and use dates from some long out-of-print Watchmen roleplaying game supplements that Alan Moore consulted on to date a couple of events from the book. 

Now, let's get to work...

July 1838 - Bass Reeves born.

1908 - Nelson Gardner (Captain Metropolis) born.

1915 - Will Reeves born.

1918 - Obie Williams, Will Reeves’ father and the great-grandfather of Angela Abar, serves during World War I. It’s here he picks up (and keeps) a German propaganda flier indicating that there’s more racial equality in Germany than there is in the United States. He carries it with him until passing it on to Will.

May 25, 1921 - Trust in the Law, a silent movie about Bass Reeves, premieres.

May 31 - June 1, 1921 - The Tulsa Race Massacre takes place. Will Reeves and June Abar escape Tulsa.

1936 - Hans Osterman takes his son Jon from Germany to England to escape the rise of the Nazis. There they stay with other refugees in an English manor home, sheltered by a kind young couple, who later inspire Dr. Manhattan to create life in their image.

Nelson Gardner honorably discharged from the Marines.

1938 - Will Reeves (Hooded Justice) and Hollis Mason (Nite Owl I) graduate from the New York Police Academy.

Spring 1938 - Action Comics #1, the first appearance of Superman is published. Will Reeves and others take notice. The arrival of superheroes as a publishing phenomenon inspires a number of people to put on costumes and fight crime. Ironically, the presence of real world superheroes ends up killing them as a viable genre in comic books, where other genres such as pirate stories instead become dominant in the form and pop culture.

Oct. 1938 - After intervening in a mugging after he had been the victim of a racist attack by his police office colleagues, Will Reeves makes his costumed debut as Hooded Justice.

1939 - Hollis Mason debuts as Nite Owl. The Silhouette, The Comedian, Silk Spectre I, Captain Metropolis, Dollar Bill, and Mothman, all inspired by the exploits of Hooded Justice and Nite Owl, make their crimefighting debut shortly after. 

July 2, 1939 - Adrian Veidt born.

Mid 1939 - The Minutemen form.

March 21, 1940 - Walter Joseph Kovacs (Rorschach) born.

Oct. 2, 1940 - Edward Blake sexually assaults Sally Jupiter (Silk Spectre I) after a meeting of the Minutemen. Hooded Justice intervenes and severely beats Blake. Blake is expelled from the Minutemen shortly after.

1942 - Nelson Gardner (Captain Metropolis) puts crime fighting career on hold to serve in the Marines during World War II. The Comedian joins the war effort, beginning a long career as a government agent and super soldier.

Sept. 18, 1942 - Dan Dreiberg (Nite Owl II) born.

Aug. 7, 1945 - Atomic Bomb dropped on Hiroshima, Jon Osterman’s life path changes from being a watchmaker to a nuclear physicist.

1946 - Minutemen member The Silhouette is outed as a lesbian in the press, kicked off the team, and subsequently murdered by an old enemy.

1947 - Sally Jupiter quits Silk Spectre career.

1948 - Sally Jupiter and Edward Blake conceive Laurie Juspeczyk (FBI Agent Laurie Blake on the show) in a secret, consensual sexual encounter.

Autumn, 1948 - Jon Osterman accepted to Princeton.

1949 - Laurie Juspeczyk (FBI Agent Laurie Blake) born, the Minutemen disband.

Dec. 1, 1949 - Judd Crawford born.

1952 - Will Reeves (Hooded Justice) uncovers the Cyclops mass hypnosis plot and executes several of their members. 

1954 - The remaining members of the Minutemen are called before the House UnAmerican Activities Committee and asked to reveal their identities in testimony. Hooded Justice disappears after refusing to reveal his identity to HUAC.

1955 - Circus strongman Rolf Muüller found dead. While this fact was never made public, Muller was murdered by Edward Blake, who believed him to be Hooded Justice, in an act of revenge for the beating he received at HJ’s hands in 1940.

J. David Keene gifts Judd Crawford’s father with a replica of George Catlin’s painting, “Martial Feats of Comanche Horsemanship.”

1956 - Sally Jupiter divorces Laurence Schexnayder. Adrian Veidt begins traveling the world and preparing for his crime fighting career.

1958 - Adrian Veidt makes costumed debut as Ozymandias.

Spring 1958 - Jon Osterman graduates Princeton with a PhD in Atomic Physics.

May 12, 1959 - Jon Osterman begins work at Gila Flats, site of the intrinsic field generator, and meets Janey Slater.

August 1959 - Jon Osterman trapped in Intrinsic Field Generator and torn to atoms.

November 1959 - Jon Osterman “returns” as Dr. Manhattan after reassembling his physical form on the atomic level.

March 2, 1960 - Dr. Manhattan’s existence revealed to the world.

May 1960 - DC Comics begins publishing Tales of the Black Freighter, a pirate comic by Max Shea and Joe Orlando.

June 17, 1960 - Dr. Manhattan meets Adrian Veidt (Ozymandias) for the first time.

May 16, 1962 - Nite Owl I (Hollis Mason) retires.

1963 - Under the Hood, Hollis Mason’s memoir about the Minutemen and his time as Nite Owl is published. Among other things, this popularizes the (incorrect) theory that Rolf Müller was actually Hooded Justice.

March 20, 1964 - Walter Joseph Kovacs begins crimefighting as Rorschach

1965 - Rorschach partners with Nite Owl II

April 14, 1966 - Nelson Gardner (Captain Metropolis) tries and fails to put together a new superhero team, the Crimebusters. Dr. Manhattan first meets Laurie Juspeczyk. Laurie first meets Edward Blake.

May 1966 - Dr. Manhattan begins romantic relationship with Laurie Juspeczyk (Silk Spectre II).

Aug. 26, 1966 - Janey Slater leaves Dr. Manhattan after learning of his affair with Laurie Juspeczyk.

1967 - Adrian Veidt exposes “a plot by rogue right wing extremists in the US military to test biological weapons on the citizens of Nairobi and the surrounding areas.”

1968 - Adrian Veidt begins formulating his master plan to bring about world peace.

March 1971 - Dr. Manhattan intervenes in Vietnam and meets Edward Blake.

June 1971 - The United States declares victory in Vietnam, marking the first VVN night. Edward Blake murders a vietnamese woman carrying his child while Dr. Manhattan stands by and does nothing.

1972 - Fogdancing by Max Shea, an important and influential work of literature in the Watchmen universe, is published.

Aug. 9, 1974 - Nelson Gardner killed in automobile accident in New York City.

1975 - Constitutional amendment abolishing Presidential term limits passed, allowing Richard Nixon to seek re-election. Ozymandias retires and reveals his identity to the public. Rorchach’s activities become more brutal in the wake of a kidnapping case he solved.

March 3, 1975 - Will Reeves is presented with the contents of Nelson Gardner’s will in New York City. Will Reeves is working at a movie theater in Harlem at the time.

1976 - Judd Crawford marries Jane Lestley. Angela Abar born.

Nov. 22, 1976 - Calvin Jelani born.

June 1977 - A superhero exploitation movie called Sister Night is released in Vietnam. It would later go on to influence young Angela Abar.

Aug. 3, 1977 - Nationwide police strike and civil unrest leads to the passage of the Keene Act, outlawing masked vigilante activity. While Silk Spectre and Nite Owl II retire in light of the new law, Rorschach refuses.

1979 - The Comedian frees American and Canadian hostages from Iranian “anti-Manhattanite extremists.”

1980 - Judd Crawford joins the Oklahoma County Sheriff’s Department

Early October 1985 - Edward Blake (The Comedian) drunkenly confesses to Edgar William Jacobi (Moloch) the details he has learned of Adrian Veidt’s plan.

Oct. 12, 1985 - Edward Blake (The Comedian) is murdered by Adrian Veidt (Ozymandias). Rorschach begins an investigation and notifies Dan Dreiberg (Nite Owl II) of Blake’s death.

Oct. 13, 1985 - Rorchach notifies Adrian Veidt, Laurie Juspeczyk, and Dr. Manhattan of Blake’s death.

Oct. 16, 1985 - Edward Blake’s funeral.

Oct. 19, 1985 - Dr. Manhattan leaves Earth for Mars, a result of continued public pressure after information planted by Adrian Veidt leads the world to believe that Dr. Manhattan’s presence causes cancer.

Oct. 20, 1985 - Russia invades Afghanistan, bringing the world to the brink of World War III.

Oct. 21, 1985 - Rorschach arrested for violating the Keene Act, framed for the murder of Edgar William Jacobi (Moloch).

Oct. 28, 1985 - Nite Owl and Silk Spectre II return to active duty as costumed adventurers to rescue people from a burning building in lower Manhattan.

Oct. 31, 1985 - Nite Owl and Silk Spectre II break Rorschach out of jail. Hollis Mason (Nite Owl I) is murdered by a gang of Knot-Tops who believe that he’s the same Nite Owl responsible for breaking Rorschach out of prison.

Nov. 1, 1985 - Nite Owl and Rorschach head to Karnak, the Antarctic retreat of Ozymandias, to confront Adrian Veidt about his plans. 

On Mars, Laurie Juspeczyk convinces Dr. Manhattan to intervene on behalf of  humanity, and learns the truth about her parentage. 

Lady Trieu conceived when her mother artificially inseminates herself with Veidt’s genetic material.

Fogancing author Max Shea, and anyone who can connect Adrian Veidt to 11/2 is killed. Rorschach’s journal is delivered to the New Frontiersman offices.

Nov. 2, 1985 - 3 million killed in New York City after Veidt teleports a giant, telepathic, genetically engineered squid into midtown Manhattan. The ensuing chaos averts World War III and ushers in a new era of global cooperation. Intermittent squid rains begin shortly after.

Across the Hudson River in Hoboken, NJ, young Wade Tillman survives the psychic shockwave unleashed by the squid, and is severely traumatized, putting him on a path that leads to him becoming Detective Looking Glass back home in Tulsa, OK.

Rorschach killed by Dr. Manhattan. 

Dr. Manhattan leaves Earth for Europa, begins terraforming the planet and creating life.

December 1985 - Dan Dreiberg and Laurie Juspeczyk assume new identities as Sam and Sandra Hollis. At some point in the next few years, Dan founds Merlincorp and begins providing Nite Owl technology to police departments.

July 1986 - Lady Trieu born.

Mar. 21, 1986 - New Frontiersman begins printing excerpts from Rorschach’s Journal. They’re widely dismissed as the ravings of a crank, and the general public doesn’t believe Adrian Veidt had anything to do with the events of 11/2/85.

c.1988 - Richard Nixon dies in office. Gerald Ford takes over as President.

1992 - Robert Redford defeats Gerald Ford to become the new President of the United States.

Jan. 21, 1993 - Robert Redford sworn in as President, and learns the truth about Adrian Veidt’s involvement in 11/2 via a videotaped confession.

1993 - The Tech Recall and Reintroduction Act is passed, “reintroducing technologies once deemed unsafe or illegal back into the public space” after the paranoia brought on by the events of 11/2. 

c. 1994 - Steven Spielberg releases Pale Horse, a movie about the events of 11/2/1985.

April 19, 1995 - Dan Dreiberg and Laurie Juspeczyk arrested for violations of the Keene Act, in the process of stopping Timothy McVeigh from carrying out the Oklahoma City bombing.

April 28, 1995 - Merlincorp, the technology company owned and operated by Dan Dreiberg and that provides police with crimefighting tech (and Laurie with that crazy Dr. Manhattan dildo), is raided by the FBI. 

1999 - Veidt Enterprises licenses cloning technology. Eventually Lady Trieu uses this technology to clone her mother, Bian.

2004 - Judd Crawford becomes a detective in the Tulsa PD.

2007 - Adrian Veidt’s final public appearance, accepting Kenya’s highest civilian honor, the Chief of the Order of the Golden Heart. Trieu Pharmaceuticals launches Nostalgia.

2008  - The Victims of Racial Violence Act, known by some as “Redfordations” passed.

Lady Trieu first confronts Adrian Veidt in Karnak about her identity and her plans to surpass his accomplishments and make the world a better place.

June 2009 - Dr. Manhattan meets Angela Abar in Mr. Eddy’s bar on VVN Night. Several weeks later, he takes the form of the deceased Calvin Jelani.

Dec. 13, 2009 - Dr. Manhattan, in the form of Calvin Jelani, visits Adrian Veidt in Karnak. Veidt gives Dr. Manhattan a device that will neutralize his powers and his memories so he can live a normal life with Angela Abar. 

Dr. Manhattan sends Adrian Veidt to Europa, the moon of Jupiter where he has been creating life.

Dr. Manhattan meets with Will Reeves.

With the onset of his Veidt-assisted amnesia, Dr. Manhattan “officially” assumes the identity of Calvin Jelani, after taking his form for several months prior.

2010 - Trieu Industries begins launching space probes.

Dec. 13, 2010 - Adrian Veidt celebrates his first anniversary on Europa.

Dec. 13, 2011 - Adrian Veidt celebrates second anniversary on Europa. To celebrate, he puts on a play dramatizing how Jon Osterman became Dr. Manhattan.

2012 - Adrian Veidt declared missing on Earth.

Dec. 13, 2012 - Adrian Veidt “celebrates” his third anniversary on Europa and begins formulating his plan to escape. He runs afoul of the mysterious Game Warden.

2013 - Adrian Veidt uses the bodies of his servants to spell out the words “Save me daughter” on the surface of Europa, just in time for one of Trieu Industries’ space probes to fly by and see it. Shortly after, Veidt is put on trial by the inhabitants of Europa for attempting to escape. 

read more: Watchmen Finale Explained

2015 - The trial of Adrian Veidt concludes, and he is sent to prison.

Dec. 24, 2016 - The White Night. “Mike” a member of the 7th Kavalary is mysteriously teleported to Gila Flats during his attack on the Abar residence, raising suspicions that Dr. Manhattan is alive and well and living in Tulsa.

2017 - Trieu Industries acquires Veidt Enterprises. Angela Abar adopts the identity of Sister Night in order to continue her police work. A Trieu Industries spacecraft lands on Europa to collect Adrian Veidt and bring him back to Earth.

2018 - Judd Crawford becomes chief of police in Tulsa. Lady Trieu breaks ground on the Millennium Clock.

Sept. 9, 2019 - Adrian Veidt officially declared presumed dead. John Grisham retires from the Supreme Court.

Sept. 16, 2019 - Judd Crawford dies. This is where the events that take place in the present day on the show begin, and they take place over the span of three weeks. 

Mike Cecchini is the Editor in Chief of Den of Geek. You can read more of his work here. Follow him on Twitter @wayoutstuff.

Read and download the Den of Geek Lost in Space Special Edition Magazine right here!

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[terminalpolitics]

In recent weeks, a controversy has popped up pitting the centrist #Resistance and progressive wings of the Democratic party against each other. This iteration of what has become a common battle regards a rising star of the establishment Democratic party—Kamala Harris, junior senator from California. Although the recent debate on Harris is relatively new, sparked by an articlefrom The Week by Ryan Cooper titled “Why Leftists Don’t Trust Kamala Harris, Cory Booker, and Deval Patrick,” it’s only the newest incarnation of a toxic dynamic that has been in full swing since 2016, where the two sides do battle over whether leftist critique of certain politicians is proof that the critics are racist, misogynist, or both. No matter how specific and policy-oriented the left’s critiques are, a certain class of liberals will never let the debate be about policy. This piece is an attempt to explain their tactics, and outline a strategy for overcoming them.

Typically, there are five steps to the centrist smear.

Step One: Define the Enemy as a White Male, Erase All Others

First, the leftists making the critiques are depicted by liberals as being almost exclusively white, male, and (often) privileged. The most popular method for carrying this out is the coining and weaponizing of the term “Bernie Bros.” Sometimes (white) female Bernie supporters are begrudgingly acknowledged, only to be dismissed as traitors suffering from “internalized misogyny,” or as flighty young singles supporting Sanders because that’s where the boys are—as Gloria Steinem, among others, claimed. Leftists of color, however, are rarely acknowledged even begrudgingly, and are often ignored outright in an act of erasure.

Step Two: Define the Leftist Motivation as Racist/Misogynist/Etc.

The second tactic of centrist liberals is to portray these supposedly exclusively white, male leftists as being solely motivated by misogyny and racism in their criticisms of women and minority politicians. They tend to do this by ignoring, minimizing or outright dismissing any policy criticisms leveled against these politicians, and by claiming that these female and or minority politicians are being held to a higher standard of purity testing than their white, male counterparts.

Step Three: Present Identity Politics and Class Politics as a Zero-Sum Game

Step three from the centrist playbook is to maintain that identity politics are being thrown under the bus in favor of class-only politics—regardless of the substantive policy and character critiques put forth. Many #Resistance-style liberals have a very narrow definition of good identity politics that only allows for superficial diversity in the form of representation optics. For example, a board of directors of a corporation may exploit its black workers and run abusive third-world sweatshops and practice environmental racism, but as long as that board has a proportionate number of women and minorities, the liberal idea of identity politics is usually satisfied. Therefore, even if the critique against a minority or woman candidate is for an action that disproportionately targeted black people—expanding the prison-industrial complex by locking up black men at an increased rate, for example—centrists perpetually claim that the greater crime to the marginalized group is the fact that anyone dares to criticize a politician from that group. Even when that minority candidate is being criticized for a policy that hurts minorities and women, the lie must be maintained—criticism of that politician is criticism of the group, and identity politics in all its forms.

Step Four: Attack the Delivery of the Message, Not the Message Itself

Step four is simple tone policing—divert the topic to “civility of the discourse,” shifting the focus to how the critic delivered her criticism, rather than the substantive merit of said criticism. This leads directly to smarm and virtue signaling—a pattern that repeatedly occurred in 2016 with Hillary Clinton, and is happening again with Kamala Harris. In both cases, liberals press the idea that criticisms only ever come from privileged white men, are too rude and abusive to ever be constructive, and only ever stem from racism and sexism—usually in the form of a total dismissal of all identity politics and a contempt for the oppressed identities they’re meant to protect. Critics of these politicians are never acknowledged as having legitimate concerns on policy and character.

Step Five: Personality, Not Policy

The fifth and final step for the neoliberals is to make the political debate a matter of charismatic personalities, or “names.” This is why we see so many pieces lamenting that Kamala Harris has a “Bernieland problem,” or is struggling with “Bernie Sanders supporters,” despite the fact that neither Bernie Sanders or anyone in his inner circle are actually behind any of the Harris public criticisms, and most of these leftists haven’t brought up Sanders at all in their critiques. (Some centrists, such as Laurence Tribe, have gone so far as to accuse Sanders of masterminding the attacks, in the absence of all evidence.) These pieces often refuse to call the critics “leftists” or “progressives,” because that would give a clearer idea of policy beliefs and ideals.

On Aug. 8, when The Week published the aforementioned Ryan Cooper article, and every day since, all of these dynamics have been in the media. Cooper responded to accusations that the left is motivated by racism and misogyny in its distrust of Harris by citing her history as a prosecutor, her defense of questionable Wall Street fat cats like Bain Capital, and her closeness to the donor class. However, although a few responses did try to sincerely engage Cooper’s arguments, most simply evaded them altogether in favor of doubling down on accusations of racism, sexism, and the false claim that these critics refused to hold white politicians to the same standards.

READ MORE...

[katyspersonal]

I want to know moooore about Archie, so 5, 6 and 9 for him!

( Asks from this ( x ) meme)

Whew! Funny that you asked about him now of all times, because just today I finally got to HIM in my list of Bloodborne characters' face refs, so I can even show him! (Yahar'gul hunters are next)

Wellll... I did draw him before, but only in a meme xD

To think of it, I do not have too much stuff about the guy to write down, the vibe I get from him is rather intuitive, but I'll try!

5) Social headcanons (what do they think of their friends/allies if they have any, what are they looking for in relationship, what people tend to think about them...)

Archibald tends to measure a person up very quick upon first meeting them, almost unmistakeably knowing whether they're smart, have potential, are reliable, all that. Not that he never been wrong, but usually his esteem is right, and he ends up forming contacts and investing only in people he considers "worthy" - be it them being useful in time of need, good helpers in his research, or even just good debate opponents to sharpen his mind with! All this is to say, he chooses his friends carefully and knows to not invest time, trust or emotion into "wrong" people. Him being involved with Healing Church was a calculated risk though, seeing how Laurence is "ends justify the means" person, but being under his wing while it lasted would benefit him.

He takes advantage of the impression of 'an eccentric weird guy who is better not distracted from his research' he gives to people, to not attract unwanted attention and instead observe others unnoticed. He knows about what's going on around him more than it seems, but his behaviour can fool even ones like Brador!

From how Archibald speaks of his connections, people often assume that he is a callous person without morality that will simply join the winning side during any conflict, but that is not entirely true! He often bends and adapts, yes, believing that 'he is more useful alive', but he has his limits and honorable values he will defend. In my story, he dies killing a very bad person devouring the already tormented Yharnam after Laurence passed away, after all! But Archibald won't reveal his vulnerable side, values and even people he cherishes easily, in fear of being easily manipulated over them.

Archibald is not relationships person at all, albeit able to fall in love. But instead of forming anything akin to functional relationship, he will simply look for someone equally curious, active and inventive to share a bond with. A type to only date a colleague, which in his case would be someone entirely caught up in research - a shared one or their own. But the idea of putting his best effort into 'feelings' and not inventing another mad thing is absolutely unspeakable for him!

He is, however, rather insensitive to things like peer-pressure and moral control unless abiding by them benefits his goals; he is an independent person. Thus, moral pressure Healing Church caused on "fearing the beasts" did nothing to him when he saw potential in studying them more. Again, him having 'just a little guy' public image helped him to avoid problems for that for a long time.

6) Psychological headcanons (tastes, fears, talents, regrets, how they deal with anger, just anything that comes to mind on the topic)

Archibald appears to be rather reasonable in emotionally charged situations, sometimes even pissing other people off by being "too calm" when he should not be, but the truth is, he is able to grip and control his anger very well. That though... applies to his other strong negative emotions too - staying a person who simply "tries to understand the situation uwu", he might be absolutely boiling with rage inside, or experience bone-chilling fear, but the only true hints will be his sweat or twisting an object in his hands nervously. When he plans to ACT on his negative emotions, he will probably not tell even to his closest friends, as he doesn't want to worry them. Like, the fucker will return all bloodied after having committed act of revenge and just write it down as falling into a blood puddle left after a hunt, and so on.

Acting on emotions IS easier for him than sharing them, yes. Talking about how much someone upset him with a close friend? Nahhhh. Go in complete secrecy to beat the hell out of that person, ranting out his frustration for their ears and their ears only? Hell YES!

He is very focused on his work, to the point of abandoning a lot of potential social activities and emotional needs, living in permanent fear that he does not have enough time in this world to complete all his plans and invent everything he is capable to. Archie has a strong fix on being productive and making his time 'count', but this is a hard tension. Even before the whole 'Yharnam is hardly real anymore and the world is doomed' turn, he missed out on many important events in lives of his friends and failed to be there for his friends when they needed him. You know, the whole 'you wasn't there when my child was born / you wasn't there at funeral of your friend' struggle? In a way, it counts, however; I headcanon that there are many unseen inventions and discoveries Archie made that we could never see within the game. We only find the weapons he invented, but there are many things that could advance the humanity back in his lab! If only times peaceful enough to reach and use them will EVER come in Yharnam, of course...

In regards to the previous paragraph, he does experience permanent hidden guilt and suffering for being 'a bad friend'. Occasionally, he even curses the fate for burdening him with the curse of "brilliant mind" that he feels obligated to use, unable to live normally.

It is kind of plain, but he IS a very smart person, IQ certainly goes further beyond 120. He also has extremely good orientation in the space once he figures even a minimal about it; once he saw a map of the area, he will never get lost in it again.

He gets rather impressed and at times even flustered by big, strong, masculine men that might squeeze him into a pulp with one hand even though he himself is a rather capable fighter; like something naturally balancing him being more brain than brawl. I think Micolash was one exception Archibald can recall in his entire life; Mico IS a twig, but his passion and madness were the strongest ones Archibald ever seen in his life, and that was enough.

9) Headcanons about their past

Archibald is a foreigner, however, not very far from Yharnam culturally - his family moved into one of the off-brand European countries even before he was born, hence British name! One of the things I like about Bloodborne is how history in that setting went different from our world's, while saving all the metaphors and social commentary. We get plenty of evidence that Yharnam is way more middle European than UK-inspired; however, I can't help but feel like Archibald DID come from off-brand UK!

He showed being gifted and developing faster than his peers since childhood, yet funny enough, the pressure to 'fulfill his potential' was not inflicted by him on parents or teachers. Instead, the development of his anxiety and obsession to use the gifts of his mind was triggered by being rather neglected as a kid. EXCEPT for the times when he was demonstrating his ahead-of-age mind capacity... That is not to say it is just the internalised lack of recognition that ended up driving him. In fact, a bigger reason is that as neglected kid, he had opportunity to stand aside and observe the society... with it's flaws and the obvious things they were lacking. That realisation that he could help and change things on larger scale is a more crucial motivation. Lack of acknowledgement was the battery, but wish to help is the charge stored in it.

Like I hinted previously, in the periods of being especially caught up in studying and research, he'd end up not being there in important events in his close people's lives. The life-turning ones, even. That guaranteed a long chain of getting friends and losing them a few years (or sometimes months) later. He lived his life known as 'a reclusive prick who ONLY cares about studying! :/' and departed in Yharnam without even having someone who would miss him! On the more positive note, the friends he would GET to keep were found in Yharnam!

He is the most 'had education and degrees prior joining Yharnam' character out of foreign ones I got, with Eileen being the second! My version of him is rather young but he had the capacity of skipping classes, thus having a bit more scientific knowledge under his belt than his peers.

Archibald was never an artistic person, nor he was able to have a pet. Thus, he tended to fill the emptiness by cooking, cleaning, patching ruined clothes and fixing broken furniture often. Sometimes he'd even ruin a thing himself just to check whether he could fix it! As result, he has fantastic practical skills. He might be caught into experiments and research, but is never in a bad physical shape or poor hygiene because of it!

Like Edgar in my 'official' timeline, Archibald arrived in Yharnam a little too late to join Byrgenwerth - something he resents deeply, because it seems like it was a PERFECT place for him to fit into. That only further cementer his permanent, instinctive fear of 'running out of time' - what could be a bigger hint that his life was turning the wrong way than being too late for an institution basically CREATED for him and how he approaches things? There was no way news about large monsters who naturally produce electricity could have travelled to him faster tho.

__________

Maybe not that much, but I think you get what the guy is like by now! Thank you for the ask! <:3 I needed a reason to put my ideas on him together in verbal form, haha

[courtneytincher]

Obituary: Li Peng, China's technocrat 'communist warrior' who rose to the top in chaotic times

Late premiers Li Peng and Zhou Enlai have come to occupy two very different places in the Chinese consciousness, one hugely controversial, the other a national hero.While Zhou remains a cherished leader to most Chinese, Li will forever be remembered for his controversial role in the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown " sealed by his appearance on national television on May 20, 1989, angrily declaring martial law in Beijing.Li's death, at the age of 90, was reported by China's official news agency Xinhua on Tuesday. In the official obituary, he was described as "a loyal communist warrior" and "an outstanding leader of the Communist Party and the state". The statement said that he died of illness in Beijing on Monday.The obituary heaped lavish praise on the former premier, crediting him for standing firm in 1989 and making a great contribution to China's reforms despite the country's isolation after Tiananmen.In describing the 1989 crackdown, the obituary said the premier, who had the support of party elders including paramount leader Deng Xiaoping, had played an "important role".Then premier Li Peng (left) and president Yang Shangkun flank Communist Party chief Jiang Zemin in the Great Hall of the People in September 1989. Photo: Reuters alt=Then premier Li Peng (left) and president Yang Shangkun flank Communist Party chief Jiang Zemin in the Great Hall of the People in September 1989. Photo: Reuters"Under the resolute support of veteran revolutionary leaders represented by comrade Deng Xiaoping, comrade Li Peng unequivocally stood with most of the comrades of the Politburo, taking decisive measures to stop the turmoil, cracking down on the counter-revolutionary riot and stabilising the domestic situation," the obituary said."He made an important contribution in this fundamental struggle, which was critical to the future and fate of the Communist Party and the state," it added.As premier, the obituary said, Li had made great strides in refocusing the country's economic development on technology and state sector reforms.Li became the parliamentary chief in 1998 when he stepped down as premier after serving two terms. He remains the only Chinese politician who has held both powerful positions.(From left) Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin and Li Peng at the fifth plenary session of the Communist Party's 13th Central Committee in Beijing in November 1989. Photo: Xinhua alt=(From left) Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin and Li Peng at the fifth plenary session of the Communist Party's 13th Central Committee in Beijing in November 1989. Photo: XinhuaBorn to a father the party recognised as a "martyr", Li benefited from the care of party elders who later became the country's founding fathers, and he was widely rumoured to be the adopted son of Zhou, who served as China's premier for almost three decades.Li rose through the political ranks during one of the nation's most chaotic periods. Throughout the 1980s and 90s, the party leadership was locked in a debate between the reformist camp and the conservative wing over the country's direction. Li was seen as a representative of the old guard, backed by party elder Chen Yun.Many observers viewed Li as an uninspired technocrat, who believed China's progress could only come in the form of huge infrastructure projects such as the controversial Three Gorges Dam, which he orchestrated."Li's political support in government circles was largely because he was thought of as the adopted son of the most respected founding premier," said Laurence Brahm, a Beijing-based political economist and an expert in China's elite politics.However, in his official memoir, published in 2014, Li denied he was adopted by Zhou.Li was born in Shanghai in 1928 to a family from Chengdu, in the southwestern province of Sichuan. His father, Li Shouxun, a writer and a friend of Zhou, was executed for being a communist revolutionary in 1930. In his memoir, Li Peng said he met Zhou's wife, Deng Yingchao, in Chengdu in 1939 and was then taken to Zhou's home in Chongqing. He said he did not meet Zhou until 1940.As was the case with many revolutionary offspring, Li was sent to study in the Soviet Union, dispatched to the Moscow Power Engineering Institute in 1948.After his return to China in 1955, Li worked as chief engineer and director of two large power plants in the northeast of the country. Thanks to his job and political connections, he avoided becoming ensnared in the national upheavals of the Great Leap Forward, which began in the late 1950s, and the decade-long Cultural Revolution, which started in 1966.After Deng Xiaoping became paramount leader in the late 1970s, Li moved into several increasingly key, powerful political positions. He was appointed vice-minister of the power industry in 1979 and minister two years later.When Zhao Ziyang was promoted from premier to party general secretary in 1987 following the purging of Hu Yaobang, Li was picked to succeed Zhao, first as acting premier and then, from 1988, as premier.Throughout the 1980s, China was moving away from its centrally planned economy to embrace market reforms, a cause championed by Hu and Zhao. The programme reached deep into the fabric of Chinese society, touching not just politics, but also the legal system, industry and the military.Premier Li Peng shakes hands with Wang Dan, a representative of students on a hunger strike, in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing on May 18, 1989. Photo: Xinhua alt=Premier Li Peng shakes hands with Wang Dan, a representative of students on a hunger strike, in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing on May 18, 1989. Photo: XinhuaBut the party was split over the shift in ideology and the new direction of the economy. Brahm said Li viewed economics through the prism of state planning " a result of his Soviet education and training.Li's conflict with Zhao escalated in the spring of 1989 as the democracy movement grew. Zhao called for dialogue with the students and broad political reforms, but Li wanted to take a hard line and argued for tough measures to suppress the "troublemakers", saying they wanted to stir up political and social turmoil.In the end, Li used his authority as premier to declare martial law on May 20 and was personally involved in overseeing the bloody military crackdown in Tiananmen Square that followed.Edward Friedman, professor emeritus of political science at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and an expert in elite Chinese politics, said Li proved he was worthy of the trust of his factional backers in the struggles of the late 1980s against liberal reform efforts, helping to defeat and remove opponents such as Hu and Zhao and making repression of the democracy protests easier.In the aftermath of the June 4 bloodshed, Li launched a witch hunt in which thousands of pro-democracy activists were arrested and imprisoned.Zhang Xianling, a member of the victims' family support group Tiananmen Mothers, which is pushing for the government to change its official verdict, said Li "should be among the three most senior leaders to be personally held accountable for the bloody crackdown".Although Li was not the only person responsible for the Tiananmen disaster, it cemented his image as one of China's most unpopular leaders in recent decades.Then-premier Li Peng presides over the swearing-in of Tung Chee-hwa as Hong Kong chief executive after the handover from Britain to China on July 1, 1997. Photo: Antony Dickson alt=Then-premier Li Peng presides over the swearing-in of Tung Chee-hwa as Hong Kong chief executive after the handover from Britain to China on July 1, 1997. Photo: Antony DicksonHundreds, if not thousands, of people were killed in central Beijing when the military crushed the student-led protests."Li Peng must be condemned by history for his crucial role in masterminding the crackdown," said Zhang, whose 19-year-old son Wang Nan was shot in the head on June 4, 1989, while photographing a clash between students and soldiers on Changan Avenue.Li will also be remembered for his role in the Three Gorges Dam project, which was approved by the National People's Congress in 1992 after heated debate. Li gave assurances the dam would offer huge benefits in flood control, power supply and shipping traffic.But scientists and environmentalists argued that a dam stretching across almost 2km (1.2 miles) of the Yangtze River would pose serious financial and environmental risks. As recently as this month, the top engineer of the project and other Chinese hydropower scholars were still busy assuring the public about the dam's security, as deadly floods hit the country's south and east.Brahm said that premier Li aggressively promoted the project, which destroyed countless homes, heritage sites and the ecology of the complex river system."He represented the dominant view of the day that engineering could overcome planetary boundaries, a materialist view of our world that projected into a generation of over-construction and irrational growth that is now being addressed by a new leadership seeking to rebalance China's economy and social distortions," said Brahm, who has written a biography of Zhu Rongji, Li's immediate successor as premier.Then NPC chairman Li Peng and wife Zhu Lin in front of the Taj Mahal in Agra, India, during an official visit in January 2001. Photo: AFP alt=Then NPC chairman Li Peng and wife Zhu Lin in front of the Taj Mahal in Agra, India, during an official visit in January 2001. Photo: AFPLi continued to project a hard line when he was chairman of the Standing Committee of the National People's Congress, China's highest legislative body, from 1998 to 2003.In his memoir, Li wrote that he took great pride in the thaw in diplomatic ties between China and Western countries after the 1989 crackdown. In 1992, Li, who was then premier, attended a United Nations meeting in New York and met then president George H.W. Bush, despite criticism at the time that any meeting with Li would elevate China's international standing.The Li family has a deep involvement in China's lucrative power industry, with his son Li Xiaopeng, now transport minister, and daughter Li Xiaolin having been in charge of state-owned power giants for decades.Friedman said Li and other members of the faction who opposed reform turned out to be ones who had used the liberalised economy as a vehicle for personal wealth.Additional reporting by Jun MaiThis article originally appeared in the South China Morning Post (SCMP), the most authoritative voice reporting on China and Asia for more than a century. For more SCMP stories, please explore the SCMP app or visit the SCMP's Facebook and Twitter pages. Copyright © 2019 South China Morning Post Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Copyright (c) 2019. South China Morning Post Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved.

from Yahoo News - Latest News & Headlines

Late premiers Li Peng and Zhou Enlai have come to occupy two very different places in the Chinese consciousness, one hugely controversial, the other a national hero.While Zhou remains a cherished leader to most Chinese, Li will forever be remembered for his controversial role in the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown " sealed by his appearance on national television on May 20, 1989, angrily declaring martial law in Beijing.Li's death, at the age of 90, was reported by China's official news agency Xinhua on Tuesday. In the official obituary, he was described as "a loyal communist warrior" and "an outstanding leader of the Communist Party and the state". The statement said that he died of illness in Beijing on Monday.The obituary heaped lavish praise on the former premier, crediting him for standing firm in 1989 and making a great contribution to China's reforms despite the country's isolation after Tiananmen.In describing the 1989 crackdown, the obituary said the premier, who had the support of party elders including paramount leader Deng Xiaoping, had played an "important role".Then premier Li Peng (left) and president Yang Shangkun flank Communist Party chief Jiang Zemin in the Great Hall of the People in September 1989. Photo: Reuters alt=Then premier Li Peng (left) and president Yang Shangkun flank Communist Party chief Jiang Zemin in the Great Hall of the People in September 1989. Photo: Reuters"Under the resolute support of veteran revolutionary leaders represented by comrade Deng Xiaoping, comrade Li Peng unequivocally stood with most of the comrades of the Politburo, taking decisive measures to stop the turmoil, cracking down on the counter-revolutionary riot and stabilising the domestic situation," the obituary said."He made an important contribution in this fundamental struggle, which was critical to the future and fate of the Communist Party and the state," it added.As premier, the obituary said, Li had made great strides in refocusing the country's economic development on technology and state sector reforms.Li became the parliamentary chief in 1998 when he stepped down as premier after serving two terms. He remains the only Chinese politician who has held both powerful positions.(From left) Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin and Li Peng at the fifth plenary session of the Communist Party's 13th Central Committee in Beijing in November 1989. Photo: Xinhua alt=(From left) Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin and Li Peng at the fifth plenary session of the Communist Party's 13th Central Committee in Beijing in November 1989. Photo: XinhuaBorn to a father the party recognised as a "martyr", Li benefited from the care of party elders who later became the country's founding fathers, and he was widely rumoured to be the adopted son of Zhou, who served as China's premier for almost three decades.Li rose through the political ranks during one of the nation's most chaotic periods. Throughout the 1980s and 90s, the party leadership was locked in a debate between the reformist camp and the conservative wing over the country's direction. Li was seen as a representative of the old guard, backed by party elder Chen Yun.Many observers viewed Li as an uninspired technocrat, who believed China's progress could only come in the form of huge infrastructure projects such as the controversial Three Gorges Dam, which he orchestrated."Li's political support in government circles was largely because he was thought of as the adopted son of the most respected founding premier," said Laurence Brahm, a Beijing-based political economist and an expert in China's elite politics.However, in his official memoir, published in 2014, Li denied he was adopted by Zhou.Li was born in Shanghai in 1928 to a family from Chengdu, in the southwestern province of Sichuan. His father, Li Shouxun, a writer and a friend of Zhou, was executed for being a communist revolutionary in 1930. In his memoir, Li Peng said he met Zhou's wife, Deng Yingchao, in Chengdu in 1939 and was then taken to Zhou's home in Chongqing. He said he did not meet Zhou until 1940.As was the case with many revolutionary offspring, Li was sent to study in the Soviet Union, dispatched to the Moscow Power Engineering Institute in 1948.After his return to China in 1955, Li worked as chief engineer and director of two large power plants in the northeast of the country. Thanks to his job and political connections, he avoided becoming ensnared in the national upheavals of the Great Leap Forward, which began in the late 1950s, and the decade-long Cultural Revolution, which started in 1966.After Deng Xiaoping became paramount leader in the late 1970s, Li moved into several increasingly key, powerful political positions. He was appointed vice-minister of the power industry in 1979 and minister two years later.When Zhao Ziyang was promoted from premier to party general secretary in 1987 following the purging of Hu Yaobang, Li was picked to succeed Zhao, first as acting premier and then, from 1988, as premier.Throughout the 1980s, China was moving away from its centrally planned economy to embrace market reforms, a cause championed by Hu and Zhao. The programme reached deep into the fabric of Chinese society, touching not just politics, but also the legal system, industry and the military.Premier Li Peng shakes hands with Wang Dan, a representative of students on a hunger strike, in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing on May 18, 1989. Photo: Xinhua alt=Premier Li Peng shakes hands with Wang Dan, a representative of students on a hunger strike, in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing on May 18, 1989. Photo: XinhuaBut the party was split over the shift in ideology and the new direction of the economy. Brahm said Li viewed economics through the prism of state planning " a result of his Soviet education and training.Li's conflict with Zhao escalated in the spring of 1989 as the democracy movement grew. Zhao called for dialogue with the students and broad political reforms, but Li wanted to take a hard line and argued for tough measures to suppress the "troublemakers", saying they wanted to stir up political and social turmoil.In the end, Li used his authority as premier to declare martial law on May 20 and was personally involved in overseeing the bloody military crackdown in Tiananmen Square that followed.Edward Friedman, professor emeritus of political science at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and an expert in elite Chinese politics, said Li proved he was worthy of the trust of his factional backers in the struggles of the late 1980s against liberal reform efforts, helping to defeat and remove opponents such as Hu and Zhao and making repression of the democracy protests easier.In the aftermath of the June 4 bloodshed, Li launched a witch hunt in which thousands of pro-democracy activists were arrested and imprisoned.Zhang Xianling, a member of the victims' family support group Tiananmen Mothers, which is pushing for the government to change its official verdict, said Li "should be among the three most senior leaders to be personally held accountable for the bloody crackdown".Although Li was not the only person responsible for the Tiananmen disaster, it cemented his image as one of China's most unpopular leaders in recent decades.Then-premier Li Peng presides over the swearing-in of Tung Chee-hwa as Hong Kong chief executive after the handover from Britain to China on July 1, 1997. Photo: Antony Dickson alt=Then-premier Li Peng presides over the swearing-in of Tung Chee-hwa as Hong Kong chief executive after the handover from Britain to China on July 1, 1997. Photo: Antony DicksonHundreds, if not thousands, of people were killed in central Beijing when the military crushed the student-led protests."Li Peng must be condemned by history for his crucial role in masterminding the crackdown," said Zhang, whose 19-year-old son Wang Nan was shot in the head on June 4, 1989, while photographing a clash between students and soldiers on Changan Avenue.Li will also be remembered for his role in the Three Gorges Dam project, which was approved by the National People's Congress in 1992 after heated debate. Li gave assurances the dam would offer huge benefits in flood control, power supply and shipping traffic.But scientists and environmentalists argued that a dam stretching across almost 2km (1.2 miles) of the Yangtze River would pose serious financial and environmental risks. As recently as this month, the top engineer of the project and other Chinese hydropower scholars were still busy assuring the public about the dam's security, as deadly floods hit the country's south and east.Brahm said that premier Li aggressively promoted the project, which destroyed countless homes, heritage sites and the ecology of the complex river system."He represented the dominant view of the day that engineering could overcome planetary boundaries, a materialist view of our world that projected into a generation of over-construction and irrational growth that is now being addressed by a new leadership seeking to rebalance China's economy and social distortions," said Brahm, who has written a biography of Zhu Rongji, Li's immediate successor as premier.Then NPC chairman Li Peng and wife Zhu Lin in front of the Taj Mahal in Agra, India, during an official visit in January 2001. Photo: AFP alt=Then NPC chairman Li Peng and wife Zhu Lin in front of the Taj Mahal in Agra, India, during an official visit in January 2001. Photo: AFPLi continued to project a hard line when he was chairman of the Standing Committee of the National People's Congress, China's highest legislative body, from 1998 to 2003.In his memoir, Li wrote that he took great pride in the thaw in diplomatic ties between China and Western countries after the 1989 crackdown. In 1992, Li, who was then premier, attended a United Nations meeting in New York and met then president George H.W. Bush, despite criticism at the time that any meeting with Li would elevate China's international standing.The Li family has a deep involvement in China's lucrative power industry, with his son Li Xiaopeng, now transport minister, and daughter Li Xiaolin having been in charge of state-owned power giants for decades.Friedman said Li and other members of the faction who opposed reform turned out to be ones who had used the liberalised economy as a vehicle for personal wealth.Additional reporting by Jun MaiThis article originally appeared in the South China Morning Post (SCMP), the most authoritative voice reporting on China and Asia for more than a century. For more SCMP stories, please explore the SCMP app or visit the SCMP's Facebook and Twitter pages. Copyright © 2019 South China Morning Post Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Copyright (c) 2019. South China Morning Post Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved.

July 24, 2019 at 10:30AM via IFTTT