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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude)

The Lotus Pier was a free and unrestrained place in comparison with the Cloud Recesses, and there was no similar prohibition on raising pets. This was a good thing, largely because Lan Wangji had recently started to think of his little found family primarily in animal metaphors.

It was, he concluded, because of the way Mo Xuanyu followed Jiang Cheng around like an imprinted duckling, with stars in his eyes and an unfortunate tendency to try to emulate his actions while possessing exactly none of the temperament required to pull any of it off.

Indeed, watching him wheezing his way through a threat to break Jin Ling’s legs was a sight worth seeing, especially with Lan Sizhui patting him on the back and encouraging him when he temporarily got stuck stuttering on the word ‘legs’.

Jiang Cheng, for all his faults and imperfections, could be terrifying when he wished to be, the blood of the battlefields of the Sunshot Campaign forever impressed upon his bones; with Zidian to hand, he could look commanding and fearsome, decisive and harsh, and with his sharp looks and sharper scowl, he cut a fine picture - even if Lan Wangji knew the truth, that behind all that sharpness was the soul of a grumpy marshmallow.

Mo Xuanyu, with his wild thatch-like hair that couldn’t be controlled no matter their joint efforts and even wilder and far more questionable taste in appearance, couldn’t hope to match him, and really ought to stop trying.

Naturally, Jin Ling looked about as convinced about the threats as he ever was when Jiang Cheng said it, meaning of course that he didn’t care one whit, but despite their initial concerns, he took to Mo Xuanyu quite well. Lan Wangji was initially puzzled by it, given their conflicting personalities, but Jiang Cheng insightfully (for once) pointed out that it was most likely that Jin Ling was willing to forgive quite a lot in exchange for having another person dressed in Lanling Jin gold around to make him feel less awkward about it.

The two of them together were two little goldfinches strutting around in a sea of purple – or, perhaps more accurately, two golden roly-poly puppies bounding around, tails wagging, trying to befriend the Jiang sect’s army of sleek haughty purple cats. They were accompanied, of course, by a small, gentle crane with a most un-Lan-like taste for spicy fish with radishes and absolutely no head for water travel.

(They were working with Lan Sizhui on that. He lived in the Jiang sect now; he couldn’t spend his whole life being seasick!)

“What does that make you, then?” Jiang Cheng asked when Lan Wangji – after incessant prodding – mentioned his thoughts on the subject of their growing nest. “Master Rabbit?”

Lan Wangji glared, but didn’t object to the characterization; regardless of his personality, there was good reason to make the association. This was largely because Lan Xichen had recently embarked on a mission to capture the rabbits Lan Wangji had been – not raising, precisely, because pets were forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, but feeding on occasion when he had the time. He had brought them to Lan Wangji’s new “residence” at the Lotus Pier as a housewarming gift.

(Lan Wangji had no intention of moving out of Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, of course, but Jiang Cheng had long ago exercised his authority as sect leader to clear out the rooms just beyond it to create a small additional courtyard for him, in which he could exercise and meditate without being too far from the main quarters of the Jiang sect leader. As a result, the only change involved in his new, public, and above-board decision to reside in the Louts Pier was adding a new entranceway to make it appear as though they lived in separate albeit adjoining houses rather than living together in just one. Of course, it being the Lotus Pier, the new entranceway involved constructing not only a gate but a new bridge…)

“What exactly are we supposed to do with a bunch of rabbits?” Jiang Cheng had demanded at the time, staring down at them - there were rather more than Lan Wangji had remembered there being, but he supposed that was the nature of rabbits.

“I have no idea,” Lan Xichen had replied, smiling broadly. “But Wangji likes them.”

Lan Wangji had pretended that neither of them existed, and also that he was urgently needed elsewhere.

Later, Jiang Cheng had cornered him, demanding an explanation or else the rabbits would be sent down to the kitchens to be repurposed, and Lan Wangji had reluctantly confessed that they were from the burrow first established by the two wild rabbits Wei Wuxian had caught for him all those years ago.

Naturally there was no more talk of repurposing after that, and three sets of rabbit coops – far more than the rabbits Lan Wangji actually possessed required – mysteriously appeared in his small courtyard the next day.

“Wouldn’t want the stupid things to drown,” Jiang Cheng had grumbled when confronted with the evidence of his sentimentality. “If they attacked your garden and tried to burrow down they’d only hit water, and then where would we be? Awash in bunny corpses, that’s where, and that’s just unsanitary. I have a duty as sect leader to preserve the public health, you know.”

Lan Wangji had initially had some difficulty determining what type of animal Jiang Cheng was. He was as prickly as a porcupine, as standoffish as a hedgehog, as fickle as a cat, as graceful and vicious as an angry goose…

Recently, however, Lan Wangji had met a merchant from the south who had been selling a type of bird he called zishuiji, or purple swamphens – the merchant claimed that they were descended from the famous zhanniao, the poisonfeather zhen bird noted for their purple bellies, scarlet beaks, and deadly venom. Although Lan Wangji was moderately certain that the man was exaggerating for the sake of a sale, he had found himself compelled to purchase several sets to house in one of the empty rabbit coops, now moved to be placed in the main courtyard, nominally to be nearer to the waterways but mostly so that they’d be easily accessible to everyone - and, of course, to subtly harass Jiang Cheng.

It turned out that zishuiji could apparently be treated in much the same way as chickens. They were highly adaptable, but thrived best near water; they were generally shy around humans, but vicious in defending their territory, capable of biting and mobbing when provoked; and they preferred to raise their eggs with company –

Truly, he had found the right bird for Jiang Cheng.

(Not to mention the euphonious imagery of a purple hen strutting around with its purple lighting, zishuiji with zidian...truly, a picture meant for the ages. Lan Wangji determined at once to make a painting of it and insist Jiang Cheng hang it on some wall. Maybe even one of the ones in the main hall, where strangers could see.)

“Some of these are getting used for food,” Jiang Cheng insisted with a glare. “Some of the rabbits, too. There are no rules against the killing of livestock here, you hear me?”

Mo Xuanyu fell in love with them immediately – Jiang Cheng’s theory was that he was entranced by their iridescent feathers, while Lan Wangji’s view was that he recognized the innate Jiang Cheng-ness of them – and quickly took charge of their care, although Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling routinely assisted in collecting eggs.

Jiang Cheng reluctantly admitted, after some time, that the purchase had been a good one, if only because it served to settle their little awkward duckling into place, finally allowing Mo Xuanyu some sense of stability, as if having some type of small duty for which he was responsible was all he needed to believe that he wouldn’t be forced back to Lanling or to Mo village, his original place of origin, which he somehow feared even more than the backstabbing snakepit of Koi Tower.

(“You need to stop calling him a duckling,” Jiang Cheng said, quivering with laughter. “Do you know that could also mean…no, I’m not saying it. Anyway, he’s such an impressionable brat. Did you see what he did with that make-up he bought? He really does look a bit...”

From this, Lan Wangji inferred that the nickname was both extremely apt, extremely unfortunate, and had permanently stuck.)

In fact, despite initial concerns, it had been surprisingly comfortable to bring Mo Xuanyu into their lives at the Lotus Pier.

He was grateful and happy to be there, which helped; Lan Sizhui was welcoming, and Jin Ling somewhat reluctantly accepting, each for their own reasons, which helped more.

Best of all, he was at just the right age to be a regular disciple, and the current Jiang sect was especially welcoming to outsiders, having been cobbled together from a wide range of previously rogue cultivators and the small handful of survivors of the previous sect’s massacres. It improved Mo Xuanyu’s mood tremendously to be around boys and girls his own age, doing the same thing as them, without the weight of Lanling Jin’s expectations on his shoulders even if he sometimes wore their colors.

“He’s never going to be the most martially inclined,” Jiang Cheng opined after a small period of observation. “But he might make a decent administrator.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him sidelong in silent question, since Mo Xuanyu had not displayed any especially notable scholastic talents either. He had started cultivating fairly late, although obviously not as late as Jin Guangyao, but he lacked the other man’s genius for organization and management. Moreover, while his studies did admittedly exceeded the low bar set in Lan Wangji’s mind by Nie Huaisang’s miserable performance, that was a very low bar indeed.

(Nie Huaisang wasn’t stupid, he reminded himself once again. He was in fact extremely clever. And yet, even knowing what he knew, it was so easy to forget…)

“He’s kind and thoughtful of the well-being of others,” Jiang Cheng said, averting his gaze and pretending his cheeks weren’t tinting red. “Calligraphy and math, people skills, that can all be learned, but at least he has the important part down…I told you to stop doing that.”

Lan Wangji ignored him and continued to smile.

“Freak,” Jiang Cheng muttered, then shook his head. “I can’t believe anyone actually listens to you. Least of all me!”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. That part was Jiang Cheng’s own fault – he’d been using Lan Wangji as a sounding board more or less from the beginning, and started making him do some of his paperwork as soon as he’d been regularly awake for more than a shichen at a time under the barely plausible claim that it was good for him to exercise his hands. Now that Lan Wangji was officially out of seclusion, Jiang Cheng had promptly shoveled even more work at him – despite the fact that they were supposedly at each other’s throats.

The Jiang disciples that had not been in the loop – most of them, to Lan Wangji’s mild surprise – adjusted quickly, especially after they noticed the long-suffering expressions on the faces of Jiang Cheng’s immediate deputies. They had remained wary for a while, possibly expecting Lan Wangji to seek to implement the Lan sect rules at any moment, but after a time he had managed to win their confidence through his efficient administration and respect for their customs.

He did…rather a lot, actually. He reviewed the sect’s accounts along with Jiang Cheng, managed certain negotiations, oversaw the continuing reconstruction efforts, reviewed submitted proposals –

All things that the Lan sect did as well, but which had never come to him before. Lan Wangji suspected that in many cases, they did not even come to his brother or his uncle, who were nominally in charge of such things; the Lan sect disdained such worldly affairs, while the Jiang sect embraced them.

Although while he was on the subject of being above worldly affairs, it occured to him that he had not had an opportunity to take Bichen out recently, and it would be good to do so. He would need to come up with some excuse to insist on Jiang Cheng accompanying him for a night hunt sometime soon, some reason that would stand up to scrutiny from the outside.

As for convincing Jiang Cheng himself, however, that would be no problem.

“We are going night-hunting soon,” he informed Jiang Cheng, who looked appalled by the very thought.

“You’re joking, right?” he demanded. “Do you know how much work we have to do? The yearly update with the dyer’s guild is –”

“Not for another two months, and preparation typically takes only two weeks.”

“Reconstruction –”

“Does not require constant supervision at this stage.”

“The – there’s training –”

Lan Wangji attempted to convey his feelings on the validity of that excuse entirely through his facial expression, and it must have worked because Jiang Cheng crumbled at once, grumbling to himself.

“Who’ll we leave the children with?” he tried. “Especially with Xuanyu being so new – oh, all right. It’s weak and I know it, you don’t have to give me that judgmental look of yours.”

“If Jiang Wanyin believes that his skills have gotten so rusty that he would be unable to keep up…”

“I’m going to break your legs,” Jiang Cheng hissed at him. “I’m going to – to – oh, wait, actually, there is a reason we can’t go just yet. We’re expecting honored guests!”

Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows.

“You wouldn’t have seen the report yet, it’s still on our desk,” Jiang Cheng said. “You know of the Baixue Temple, right?”

Lan Wangji looked askance, indicating that he had of course heard of the temple, a renowned place of learning, but that he presumed that that was not what Jiang Cheng meant and also that perhaps Jiang Cheng would like to get to the point at some time before their deaths from old age.

“Fuck you too,” Jiang Cheng said conversationally, having learned the nuances of Lan Wangji’s expressions by now. “It was attacked recently, and rumor has it that it was Xue Yang that did it. Yes, the same Xue Yang who did the Chang clan massacre, the one the Jin sect was protecting before they washed their hands of him.”

Lan Wangji frowned.

“They made it through with relatively minimal casualties,” Jiang Cheng assured him. “Out of luck, mostly – when Xue Yang disappeared before his trial, the Nie sect made sure word got out everywhere, and Lianfeng-zun, who might’ve quashed it, even helped spread them, instead. From what I understand, Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen returned to Baixue Temple to make sure it wouldn’t be attacked over their part in Xue Yang’s initial arrest, as it later turned out to be - truly, evil is mundane and predictable. They led the defensive efforts and saved many lives.”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen –

Lan Wangji had heard Jiang Cheng speak of them before, of course. Rogue cultivators of considerable fame, who had refused all offers to join any of the sects, major or minor, but instead professed a desire to start a cultivation school of the old-fashioned sort, valuing affinity and merit over blood relation.

Not that that was what had caught the attention of Lan Wangj, or of Jiang Cheng for that matter.

Rather, it was said that Xiao Xingchen was a disciple of Baoshan Sanren, the famous immortal that lived secluded on the mountain. That made him Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle, and both of them were shamelessly interested in all things relating even tangentially to Wei Wuxian, however indirectly.

Jiang Cheng had sent several invitations for a visit back when the Chang clan disaster had happened. None had been accepted, which was probably all for the best – he had had to stop inviting them on account of how they’d angered the Jin sect over the matter.

(It had caused Jiang Cheng no end of nightmares, the feeling of complicity in a massacre just like the one that had destroyed his own sect sending him into a spiral of self-hatred, questioning his own morality and righteousness, wondering if his ancestors were judging him and finding him wanting, wondering if Wei Wuxian was –

It had not been a good time, a thankfully temporary reversion back to the bad days closer to the start. But Jiang Cheng was better now.)

“Why accept an invitation now?” Lan Wangji asked.

“They’re planning on hunting him down, I think, and having learned a little bit from last time, they want to get as many allies on board as possible in advance,” Jiang Cheng said, and shook his head at the depressing need to account for worldly politics when seeking to live a righteous life. A lesson hard-learned, for both of them. “They wrote to me first, this time. In return, I plan to indicate that they are welcome to come to the Lotus Pier to try to convince me – we’ll agree to help them, of course, but it’ll be nice to share a meal with them. Maybe some stories.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said. “And entertainment, of course.”

Jiang Cheng looked at him.

“We should take them night-hunting,” Lan Wangji elaborated, and Jiang Cheng scowled at him.

“There are oxen less stubborn than you! Donkeys! Geese!”

Lan Wangji was not a goose. A crane, perhaps, like Lan Sizhui – gentle and graceful and well-educated, with a sharp beak that most people overlooked.

He suspected Jiang Cheng would argue instead for the goose.

“I will write to my brother,” he said, opting to change the subject. “Xue Yang is a sensitive subject for his sworn brothers, as you know. It would be best to prepare him should they resume their fight with each other.”

“Oh, that’s just what we need,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Lianfeng-zun and Chifeng-zun at each other’s throats again…did I tell you about the series of small but extremely irritating disasters that happened that time I was at Koi Tower? The room flooding, the too-thick incense, the – the thing with the cat –”

“I also recall you coming back from a night-hunt with Chifeng-zun with an expression suggesting that someone had put the fear of death into you, yes,” Lan Wangji said.

“It’s Chifeng-zun. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you avoiding any circumstances where he could have the same talk with you!”

Lan Wangji did not deny it. As he was not a sect leader, he could avoid such things with much greater ease than poor Jiang Cheng – who was glaring again.

“You should try harder to get along with him,” he remarked, and Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed even further. “You have many things in common –”

“Lan Wangji. You are, as A-Yuan’s father, permitted to set up as many playdates for him as you’d like. You are not permitted to do the same for me.”

Lan Wangji nodded, indicating that would give that all the consideration it deserved, namely none.

Jiang Cheng made a sound not unlike the whistling of a boiling pot.

Lan Wangji decided that a triumphant but timely retreat was appropriate.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #mo xuanyu #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

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speechlessxx · 4 years

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Guilty as Charged (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: In which Bucky and the reader’s happy life is interrupted by a Civil War.

Warnings: LONG (for no reason, this could’ve been a multi-part fic but I don’t have the commitment for that), this is really bad tbh..., language?

Word Count: 2.4k+

Feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

When Bucky settled down with you in Bucharest, he hoped that he’d be able to provide you a happy life – the life you deserved. The both of you were two peas in a pod, both running from the ghosts of their pasts. He was running from HYDRA and the government while you were fleeing from your abusive ex-boyfriend. You first met when he managed to save you from being mugged. After that, he traveled with you. Soon, you both became close and confessed your pasts to one another.

“I understand if you don’t want to go with me anymore,” he told you on the rooftop of some building you two broke into for the night. He adverted his eyes from yours as shame quickly flooded through him. “I’m a killer.”

You shook your head with your brows furrowed as you pulled him into you. Your first kiss was under the stars. He pulled away from you, a bit surprised at your response. You wrapped your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers together, while his hands found their way to your hips.

“That’s not who you are anymore, though,” you said. “And honestly, I’m falling in love with the person you are today. I don’t care about your past. I just want to be in your future, Bucky.”

Two peas, indeed.

But it all changed the day you both went to the market.

He offered to buy you some plums. (“Get six,” you told him. He responded with a yes ma’am and a mocking salute which earned him a small chuckle). After the man handed him the six fruits in a bag, Bucky felt tense. He felt like he was being watched. He looked over his shoulder and found a man in the newspaper stand staring at him. The man glanced down at the paper in his hand and looked back at Bucky, who started to walk towards him. But as soon as Bucky got close, the man fled. He snatched the paper from its perch as he read The Winter Soldier wanted for Vienna Bombing printed boldly in Romanian.

His breathing hitched as he frowned. He was nowhere near Vienna. The last time he was there was when you stepped on a broken bottle and he had to stitch your foot up. He remembered your yelps of pain as he tried to soothe you while he patched up your wound. It was over a year ago.

Bucky quickly found you and pulled you away from the woman you were trying to buy some meat from. “We need to leave,” he told you as he dragged you.

“What?” you asked. “Hey, hey, Buck, talk to me.” You pulled your arm from his grasp as you stared into his eyes.

He analyzed every detail of your face. From your eyes to your hair to the worried pout on your lips. He realized this might be the last time he’ll be able to see you. Bucky pulled you into him, crashing your lips against his. The last time he might be able to kiss you.

“You need to leave me,” he said breathlessly after he pulled away. You frowned. “Don’t argue, please… It’s not safe,” he eyed the woman who walked a little too close to you. “They found me. And you’re in danger by even being with me.”

You shook your head, tears threatened to fall. “Buck, no,”

“Please, my love,” Bucky pleaded and dug into his pockets. He shoved what cash he had into your hands. “Buy a ticket. Get far away from me.”

“I can’t leave you.” You shook your head. “I won’t.”

“If something happens to you, I won’t be able to forgive myself,” he said, tears in his eyes, too. “I’ll find you. I’ll find you eventually.” You shook your head, defiantly. “Stop it… Please…”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too… so, so much.” He muttered, pulling you back for one final kiss. “Go.”

-=+=-

You were so defiant. Bucky called you stubborn on so many occasions. “That stubbornness is gonna get you in so much trouble one day,” he warned after you refused to back down when you picked a fight with a man twice your size who was manhandling a woman on the train.

He warned you time after time. Stop being so stubborn. Do what I tell you to do so we don’t get killed. But every time, you refused to listen.

Much like now.

Instead of buying a train ticket and getting the hell out of Bucharest, you made it your mission to find out what had him on edge. You found the newspaper with the same headline about the bombing and frowned. Neither of you were in Vienna. You’d been staying in Romania for almost 3 months. So, you managed to find the tip hotline and got in touch with an agent. You claimed his innocence and when asked how you knew the truth, you simply responded, “I was with him.”

So, now you were staring at a man across the table who introduced himself as Everett Ross. You were flown out from Bucharest to Berlin in a matter of hours after your initial phone call.

“I don’t think I quite believe your story, Miss (Y/L),” he finally told you as he rubbed his chin. “It all just seems…”

“It’s contradicting to the narrative you’re so keen on believing,” you nodded. “But it’s the truth. I’ve been traveling with James Buchanan Barnes for the past 2 years after he saved me from being mugged in London.”

“You realize you’ve been traveling with a known criminal, right?” He asked.

You shook your head. “He’s not a criminal. He’s a victim. Don’t paint him into a villain if you don’t know or want to acknowledge his story.”

“You’ve got some bite on you,” he chuckled. “But if he’s such a victim, then why did he attack and escape?”

“What?”

“He’s injured many of our agents, killed dozens in the bombing.” Ross explained. “And yet, you come here, parading around the story that he’s a victim.” He shook his head. “Perhaps, the true victim is you Miss (Y/L)? Maybe the truth is, is that James Buchanan Barnes didn’t save you from being mugged. He kidnapped you and forced to live with him for 2 years, uprooting you from your life, making you depend on him.”

“Are you suggesting I have Stockholm syndrome?” You cocked an eyebrow up. “Because I am of sound mind and he is innocent.”

“I was giving you an out, kid,” he sighed and threw his hands into the air. “I was giving you an excuse, so we don’t tag you as an accessory to a crime. Aiding and abetting a criminal. Hate to see a nice girl like you locked up in prison.”

“I stand by my statement that I was with Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes in Bucharest, Romania at the time of the bombing in Vienna,” you stated and stared him down. Oh, how that stubbornness and undying loyalty shined through.

They didn’t formally arrest you. Instead, they kept you locked in the interview room for hours. You had even fallen asleep a few times. They checked into your story. At every city you and Bucky stayed at, they were able to find video evidence of you too. It was tricky at first. Bucky was skilled at hiding from CCTV, but he had his slip ups. And in some videos, if you were caught on tape, sure enough, Bucky was lingering somewhere near you.

But they didn’t tell you their plan for you, either. If they can’t arrest Barnes themselves, they’ll throw you in the Raft (despite you being a non-enhanced civilian). And if Tony Stark failed at apprehending Steve Rogers and the Winter Soldier, then they’ll use you to draw him out.

-=+=-

You hummed softly to yourself as you laid in the prison bed. You knew from your first conversation with Everett Ross this is where you would end up – a prison cell. However, you didn’t realize that the prison would be hidden in the ocean. The Raft, they called it. Supposedly, it was for the most dangerous criminals. And for some reason, you – a human girl whose only crimes were telling the truth and falling in love – made the cut. And if those were the crimes that Everett Ross claimed you committed, then fine. Guilty as charged.

Later, the cells around you became occupied. Three men and one woman.

“What got you locked up in here?” the African American man asked you.

“Tell the truth,” you answered. He frowned at your response. “I tried doing the right thing. Tell Everett Ross that James Buchanan Barnes is innocent!” You screamed, knowing that the conversation was being overseen by security.

“Wait, Bucky?” The man asked you. You nodded. “You’re the girl.”

“Am I supposed to say, you’re the man?” You scoffed. “Who the hell are you?”

“Sam Wilson,” he introduced. “I know your fella.”

Your features softened. “Is he… is he okay?”

“I sure hope so,” Sam sighed.

-=+=-

You didn’t know how long you were all locked up. You quickly got to know your cellmates – Sam, Clint, Scott, and Wanda. Sam had filled you in on what happened with Bucky, some details he glazed over, knowing the conversation was being monitored. His story lined up with yours. Bucky had been framed so that he would be flushed out of hiding. He was later arrested after trying to flee from a man wearing a cat suit – that part confused you – and the UN.

Bucky didn’t want you involved in the catastrophe that would’ve erupted. He knew he can’t protect the both of you, so he asked you to go as far as you can. You, of course, deterred from his plan and got yourself locked up in a high-security prison. At least you’re safe, you joked to yourself. You did that part right.

Then there was a thud that erupted through the prison as a guard’s body fell from the railing. You quickly got up from your seat against the wall and stared into the darkness. A man emerged and freed you all.

-=+=-

“You’re the girl Bucky’s been talking about?” The man, who introduced himself as Steve, asked as the two of wandered around a hidden Wakanda facility.

“Guilty, I guess,” you smiled. “You’re the best friend he told me about?”

“Guilty,” Steve chuckled. “Thank you… Thank you for being there for him…”

“Honestly, I think he saved me more times than I’ve ever saved him,” you laughed. Steve led you to a lab.

You stared at the technology in awe. It was so advanced compared to the rest of the world. You heard Steve ask someone, “are you sure about this?”

“I can’t trust my own mind,” you heard a familiar voice respond. It broke your heart how broken he sounded. “So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head. I think going back under is the best thing… for everybody.”

“Nothing will make you change your mind?” Steve asked. You didn’t see, but Bucky gave him a sad smile and shook his head. “Not even…” Steve gestured for you to walk over. Bucky’s brows shot up in surprise as you made your presence known. You gave him a small smile as you wrapped your arms around him, careful not to hit the wrapped stub where his titanium arm used to be.

“How?” Bucky asked as you pulled away.

“Tried to clear your name, got arrested,” Bucky frowned at you, “got sent to the Raft, got broken out by Captain American, and… now I’m here.”

“You never got on that train, did ya?” You shook your head and gave him a guilty look. “Of course,” he chuckled as he used his good arm to pull you into a kiss.

“What are you doing?” you asked him.

“I gotta let them fix me,” Bucky explained. “Take the Winter Soldier out of my head.” You looked over to the cryo-freeze chamber and frowned. It looked terrifying – like the things you’d see in a sci-fi horror flick.

“I can’t convince you otherwise?” You asked.

“No, love,” Bucky shook his head, taking your hand into his. “I can’t give you a good life… not with all the bad stuff in my head.”

“Are you ready, Sergeant Barnes?” A teenage girl walked up to him.

Your hand gripped his as he got up from the table. “Stevie, watch over her?” Bucky asked, looking over at Steve.

“You got it pal,” Steve nodded.

Bucky looked down at you. “Don’t do anything stupid until I’m back.”

“How can I?” You muttered. “You’re taking it with you.” Steve smiled to himself, recognizing the phrase and remembering how he would’ve responded similarly.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you more, Bucky,” you teared up.

“Impossible.”

“Asshole.” He smirked at your response, but instead of providing a rebuttal, he let you have the last word. He gave you one last kiss before he let the girl escort him to the chamber. He closed his eyes as the glass frosted over.

-=+=-

He will be waking today, Shuri’s message read to you. You arrived at the rural villages of Wakanda. The natives all greeted you with smiles as if knowing today was the big day.

“How are you feeling?” Shuri asked the newly awakened Bucky. He stared off into the distance.

“Good. Thank you.” Bucky gave her a small smile and she returned it. He takes in the view of the lake. The sunlight reflected on the waters. It was a beautiful sight.

“Come. So much for you to learn,” Shuri beckoned as she walked off.

Bucky tore his eyes from the beautiful Wakandian scenery and followed Shuri’s voice and was met with another sight that was far more gorgeous.

You wore a white flowy dress (though the bottom of the skirt had been dirtied from the mud you ran across earlier that day). Your hair had been pulled back in a half up/half down hairdo, a small bun at the crown of your head. Your smile reached your teary eyes as your eyes met.

You raced over to him and held him tightly in your arms. You missed him so much. This reunion was months in the making.

“You stayed?” Bucky asked, breathless as you pulled away and wrapped your arms around his neck. You nodded.

“Why would I leave?” You asked. “I’ve waited a long time for this.” You said and pulled him down for a long-awaited kiss.

This was word vomit in fan fiction form. I’m so sorry.

Please tell me what y’all think <3

#Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier x reader #white wolf x reader #white wolf imagine #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #im on a bucky kick #this was kinda bad

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introvertguide · 4 years

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North by Northwest (1959); AFI #55

The next film for review was the Hitchcock classic North by Northwest (1959). This movie has possibly the most well known surprise attack scene in American cinema involving a crop duster. I know, it sounds great. The film was moderately successful at the box office and marked the one and only time that Alfred Hitchcock worked with MGM. It was also only one of two VistaVision films made at the studio. Hitchcock was not a man to let studios mess with his work, so he famously refused to cut 15 minutes out of the movie for time and instead cut a total of 5 seconds worth of material. Before I go into any more detail, I feel like this is bordering quickly on spoilers so let me get the warning and the synopsis out of the way:

SPOILER ALERT!!!! THIS IS A GREAT MOVIE THAT I KNOW VERY WELL AND FEEL LIKE IT SHOULD BE SEEN BEFORE IT IS DISCUSSED!!! I AM GOING TO GO OVER THE FILM IN GREAT DETAIL SO CHECK IT OUT BEFORE READING ANY FURTHER!!!

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The whole story begins with a case of mistaken identity. Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant) is an advertising executive who is going to lunch to have a business meeting. He sits down and then remembers he needs to phone his mother so he summons the waiter to ask about a phone. Apparently the waiter had just received a call for a spy named George Kaplan and some thugs are waiting for a signal that will identify the man. Thornhill’s signal is mistaken for the spy’s and the thugs move in and take away the ad exec at gunpoint. They go to the home of U.N. Diplomat Lester Townsend and Thornhill is interrogated by a spy named Philip Vandamm (James Mason) and his right hand man Leonard (Martin Landau). Thornhill tries to say he is innocent, but Vandamm and the thugs do not believe him and stage his death by drunken car accident. Thornhill survives and escapes by car, but he is still drunk and is subsequently stopped and arrested by the Glen Cove police for drunk driving.

Thornhill sleeps off his intoxication at the station and calls his mother to get in contact with their lawyer. The next day, Thornhill tells the local court everything that he remembers happening, but nobody believes him. He even takes them back to the house and a woman claiming to be Townsend’s wife acts like Thornhill was there for a party and left drunk. Thornhill has to pay the fine (a whole $2), but he is still curious.

Thornhill and his mother go back to the restaurant where he was kidnapped and finagle their way up into the attached hotel to find the real spy, George Kaplan. It turns out that nobody has ever seen this man in person so everybody just assumes that Thornhill is Kaplan since he showed up at the room. The thugs have returned and try to recapture Thornhill still thinking he is Kaplan, but Thornhill is able to escape. He goes and visits the UN to talk to Townsend in an effort to shine a light on the situation, but Townsend is confused and says that his wife died many years ago. Suddenly, a knife is thrown into the back of Townsend and all the witnesses around think that Thornhill did it as there is nobody else to blame. Thornhill again escapes and is now running away and trying to find Kaplan in hopes of clearing his name.

I very quick scene of an American intelligence agency meeting reveals that Kaplan never existed and that this was a made up spy to keep Vandamm occupied while they figure out his plans. It is unfortunate for Thornhill, but all agree that he will have to become Kaplan and more than likely die by the hands of Vandamm and his men. Thornhill is unaware of this meeting and continues to run around looking for this non-existent spy.

Thornhill is able to sneak on a train to go to Chicago since he believes that Kaplan is at a hotel there. He runs into a lovely blonde named Eve Kendall (Eva Marie Saint) who seems aggressively interested in him and wants to help him hide out. She knows that he is the man who is being blamed for the murder of the UN diplomat and she seems to want to sleep with him (like a groupie)? She is very straight forward and it turns out that this is because she is working for Vandamm, who is also on the train.

In the morning, Eve helps Thornhill arrange a meeting with the non-existent Kaplan at an isolated rural bus stop outside of the Chicago. Thornhill gets there and finds...nothing? A guy shows up but he is just waiting for the next bus. The only thing around is a biplane crop duster that seems to be dusting empty fields. It dramatically turns and swoops down at Thornhill firing a backloaded machine gun. Thornhill is able to hide in the fields and then manages to get under a passing oil truck, which the biplane smashes into and eventually explodes.

Thornhill steals a truck and reaches Kaplan's hotel in Chicago to discover that Kaplan had already checked out and left before the time when Eve claimed she talked to him on the phone. Thornhill goes to her room and confronts her and she plays naïve. She tries to run away while he is changing clothes, but he quickly follows her down to an auction where he finds her with Vandamm. He insults her coldly and then makes his escape from Vandamm by turning himself in, but the police strangely won’t take him to the station and instead leave him in the care of a man simply called The Professor (Lee Carroll).

The professor finally reveals to Thornhill that Kaplan doesn’t exist and that Eve is actually a government agent working for the U.S. It is also explained that Vandamm has some sort of evidence/information that he is trying to take out of the country and will be leaving by plane from his South Dakota home that is in the woods right next to Mount Rushmore. The Professor leaves Thornhill to play the role of Kaplan and negotiates for Eve at the Mount Rushmore visitor center and she seemingly shoots him to look good in front of Vandamm. Luckily the gun is loaded with blanks (remember this gun, it will come back).

Afterwards, the Professor arranges for Thornhill and Eve to meet and Thornhill learns that she must depart with Vandamm and Leonard on a plane. When Thornhill tries to dissuade her from going, he is knocked unconscious by another one of The Professor’s men and locked in a hospital room. Thornhill is able to escape (he gets out of everything) custody and goes to Vandamm's house to rescue Eve from leaving.

At the house, Thornhill sneaks around and overhears that the sculpture that Vandamm bought at the auction holds some kind of microfilm. Leonard also reveals to Vandamm that the gun was a blank and it is decided that Eve will be killed on the plane. Thornhill must keep Eve from getting on the plane so he gives her a note revealing the plot. She is being lead out to the plane and she makes a break for it, meets Thornhill, and they climb out on to Mount Rushmore to escape. The Professor rushes in with his men and arrests Vandamm while also shooting Leonard.

Unfortunately, Eve has slipped climbing around on the president faces and Thornhill is attempting to pull her back to safety when...he is now suddenly pulling her onto a foldout train bed and he is calling her Mrs. Thornhill. The train enters a tunnel and the movie ends.

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This was the fourth and lowest rated Hitchcock film on the AFI top 100, but I opine that it is the most fun. The constant escapes and the almost relatable situation of a businessman getting wrapped up in something of which he wanted no part of makes this a very easy watch. There really are no slow points in this film and the action is punctuated by good comedy. Drunken Thornhill trying to explain what happened and then desperately bidding at an auction to bide time for an escape his hilarious. My favorite line in the film is when Thornhill and The Professor are waiting at the Mount Rushmore visitor center and Thornhill looks through a viewing scope and says “I don’t like the way that Teddy Roosevelt is looking at me.” That is awesome.

As much as Alfred Hitchcock was the Master of Suspense and the King of Dramatic Climax...his endings aren’t generally very good. He did a terrific job wrapping up Rear Window (1954), making sure all storylines were finished, but he really didn’t end North by Northwest (1959), Vertigo (1958), or The Birds (1963). The movie Psycho (1960) did have an ending, but it was an exposition dump that really was the low part of the film. I love all of these films and the suspenseful build-ups to the dramatic climaxes are extraordinary and put them in a class of their own, but I would not call Hitchcock one to demand a satisfying resolution.

I know that I have done it for every one of the Hitchcock movies on the AFI list, but I again want to give a shout to Saul Bass for the opening credits and Bernard Hermann for the score. The intro to a Hitchcock film puts you in the mood for a good story and the score keeps you interested all the way to the end.

There were some questions from my parents as well as from a couple of viewers about the biplane scene. How was it that the plane passed by and then machine gun fire followed? Well, the plane was a N3N Canary, also known as the “Yellow Peril,” and was a tandem seat training biplane that had an open cockpit. This means that there had to be a a guy in the back with a gun shooting backwards. These were generally converted for agricultural use at the end of WW2. The plane that blew up was a different plane (a Stearman Boeing Model 75 trainer) that was also used as an agricultural duster. Empire magazine rated this scene as the greatest movie moment of all time.

Now that the group has been watching so many movies from Old Hollywood, it became apparent to me how extraordinarily dirty the language was on the train between Roger and Eve. I remember reviewing this film in a college film course and the professor commenting over the scene. She mentioned that this was the only scene of the film that had any cuts and they were made by Hitchcock himself. I also remember Eva Marie Saint saying she was 26 and the professor said, “Ha! Plus 10!” This was a mid 20s female character (played by an actress in her 30s) trying to actively bed a character in his mid 40s (played by an actor in his 50s) who she has just met and spent a total of 5 minutes with. It was all sorts of awkward, and it was great.

So. Should this move be on the AFI top 100? Yes. Probably higher in rank. I was just thinking of another Cary Grant film that is higher on the list, The Philadelphia Story (1940), and how this film is so much more fun. I think that there are other Hitchcock films like Rebecca (1940) and The Birds (1963) that could be on this list, but I guess 4 films from a director that isn’t American is a good representation. North by Northwest is definitely a deserving example. Would I recommend it? Yes. Heck, you can borrow my copy as long as you bring it back. I have seen the film probably two dozen times in the last 20 years and I would be happy to see it again if it means somebody can experience it for the first time. I highly recommend checking it out for yourself.

#alfred hitchcock #cary grant #eva marie saint #james mason #north by northwest #afi top 100 movies #movie review #film critique #synopsys #best movie scenes #introvert #introverts #film stills #spoilers

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years

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Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 213: Worlds Collide, Pt 2

"So nice of you to finally join us," Agent Green said shortly.

"I'd say sorry to keep you waiting...but I'm not sorry," David retorted, as he pulled out a chair for his wife and then took his seat next to her.

"Wow Mom...that dress is hot," Emma commented. Snow smiled.

"Thanks sweetie...you look gorgeous too," Snow replied, admiring her daughter's curve hugging red dress.

"This is an FBI briefing...we don't have time for mother-daughter bonding hour," Agent Green interjected.

"Check your attitude, Agent Green," the Major warned to the seething agent.

"Fine...as you know, Mr. Clayton is expected at tonight's event next door for the debut of Ancient Wonders exhibit at the Museum of Natural History," she explained.

"This exhibit has some highly sought after artifacts, including Olmec terracotta statues, jade masks that are said to be of Mayan origin, and even an ancient Incan quipu, just newly discovered," she said, showing them a few slides.

"That's probably what they're after," Eva commented, which received attention from the entire table.

"How do you know that?" Agent Dorsey asked, narrowing his gaze.

"I mean, the Major mentioned that Natalie Zearing and her mother have been looking for Cibola or El Dorado for years. I did a little reading and an ancient newly discovered quipu might be a clue to its location," she said.

"You're the one that can read minds, right?" he asked suspiciously.

"I explained to Agent Green earlier that I don't read minds. I just read people really well and I help Belle with the research when it's needed usually," Eva replied sternly.

"She's right...is there anything else you'd like to know about the items in question and which ones we're certain they're after? Because we've already done the research while we were waiting," Belle chimed in. David smirked.

"Still think my family members need badges to do this work?" he asked smugly.

"Whatever...and yes, we think she's after the quipu for sure," Dorsey snapped.

"And one good thing about the lot of you being here is that you'll be a huge distraction and they may let their guard down," he added.

"Except that he won't," Xander interjected.

"He's right...if Junior is some kind of heir apparent to Clayton's legacy, then he knows everything about his history and us. He probably holds Snow and I personally responsible for his father's death too," David agreed.

"If he's as arrogant as his father, he'll take over the entire place in some grand display once he sees us," Snow said.

"Why would he do that? Why would he blow years of cover? And how does he expect to do something like that in a room full of cops, FBI agents, and apparently freaking magic?" Agent Green questioned.

"I don't know...but the last time we underestimated his father, we spent a year of our lives in captivity," David said.

"He's right...in my time working for Clayton, he always eluded to the fact that he had sired an heir and he was being raised to take over. I assumed he meant Cecily, but I think I was wrong about that. Clayton would favor a male heir," Xander replied.

"Chauvinist till the end," Emma commented.

"We need to be ready for anything. We may have magic, but Clayton always had ways around that, either with his own stolen magic or technology," Snow reminded them. David nodded.

"She's right...we need all your agents to be alert and ready to clear civilians from the event if things get out of hand," he said.

"This isn't what our Intel is telling us," Dorsey interjected.

"These two always come to these events and then disappear with valuable artifacts to hold their own black market auctions. Why should we think tonight is any different than the last event?" he asked.

"Because we're here now and Junior is probably chomping at the bit for revenge. Plus, he'd love to somehow capture us and force his way into the United Realms. Most of his father's collection is there in our museum," David answered.

"I don't like any of this...it's not what we've planned for," Agent Green lamented.

"If you're applying all your FBI training to this situation, dearie, then you'll be woefully unprepared," Rumple interjected.

"Because nothing can prepare you for dealing with someone of John Clayton's bloodline. He managed to get even me to underestimate him...which means he was careful over his considerable years to avoid any previous Dark Ones," he added.

"Then it's settled. David...you and your people have the lead on this. The rest of us are providing back up," the Major said.

"Whether you like it or not," she added, as the meeting concluded and they prepared to venture to the museum next door for the big event.

~*~

Johnny sighed, as his men roughed up the poor, unfortunate man that he currently had a dispute with.

"This is grotesque. Can you just end this already," Natalie complained, as he finished his drink.

"You never did have the stomach for this part of the business," he teased, as he approached and his men sat the bound man back in his chair.

"Oh Sykes...you were so loyal to my father for years. It is truly a shame that you betrayed my family so thoroughly," Johnny said.

"I didn't want to! But that woman...she killed Cecily right in front of me! I had no choice!" Billy Sykes pleaded.

"Oh, you had a choice...she would have never gained full use of my father's entire operation without your help," Johnny responded.

"She was going to kill me!" he insisted.

"No...you had all the answers. So she persuaded you instead. I know...that penthouse apartment you're living in is a nice step up from the hole in the wall you found yourself in when you were working for my sister," he said.

"Your father took care of me...but she treated me like trash!" Sykes hissed.

"Yes...and in revenge, you gave away the keys to my father's Kingdom!" he roared.

"And to the damned government!" he growled in rage.

"I...I can help get it all back! I know everything about her operation!" he claimed.

"No need...your services are no longer needed, Mr. Sykes," he said, as the fear on the other man's face was evident.

"String him up," Johnny ordered, as Billy began to plead for his life. But those pleas fell on deaf ears and Natalie groaned, before turning away.

"Why can't you just shoot him and make it quick," she complained.

"Traitors don't get a quick end, my love," he admonished, as the doors to the warehouse swung open, catching them by surprise. They had concealed this large warehouse, which was their headquarters in Boston, with his father's cloaking technology. If someone had breached it, then they definitely were in possession of magic. Johnny pulled his gun.

"Step no further, whoever you are. This gun does not shoot bullets, but rather a magic nullifying shock wave," he warned. The man put his hands up and smirked.

"Easy there, Mr. Clayton. I mean you no harm...in fact, I am here to offer my services," he said. Johnny looked at him skeptically.

"I know you...you're Fagin, the notorious loan shark and gang leader," Johnny said. The man chuckled.

"Correct...until two days ago, I was Fagin, the notorious loan shark and gang leader. I was once just a lowly pickpocket, until I climbed my way to the top of the crime food chain," he said, as he helped himself to a drink, completely un-bothered by the hanging dead man in the room.

"Boss...you want us to toss this guy?" one of his men asked.

"Not yet," Johnny said, intrigued by this man.

"So...until two days ago, you were Fagin. To whom and I speaking to now?" he questioned curiously. The man smirked and his hand came alive with fire, as he lit a cigar that he magicked into his other hand.

"I have many names. The Devil, Lucifer, Satan...but I prefer Mephisto," he said.

"But Mephisto was killed during the battle by the Charmings...or so the story goes," Johnny said with an impressed tone.

"One such as me does not just die...I merely needed a new host once my old body was destroyed. I found one and while he's not as physically imposing as I would like, he is a powerful gang leader and loan shark, with a network of crime and resources at his fingertips," Fagin replied. Johnny smirked.

"And you want to help me?" Johnny asked skeptically.

"Think about it...with me helping, not only do you get your revenge on the Charmings, but you can easily take over the world...including the United Realms," he tempted

"And all I have to do is sell my soul to you, right?" he asked. Mephisto smirked.

"Normally yes...but I'll settle for your men for now. I know you have enough of your father's tricks up your sleeve that you don't need my power," he replied. Johnny shrugged.

"Have at them," Johnny said, offering his subordinate's lives to the creature, much to Natalie's horror. Once their transformation was complete, Mephisto smirked.

"Now...it's time discuss this evening's events," he said.

~*~

James and Aphrodite appeared in the middle of town square, in Underbrooke, with Hermes.

"You have exactly seventy-two hours, no more, and then I have to retrieve you whether you have your answers or not," Hermes warned.

"I'm getting the feeling that you think this is a bad idea," Aphrodite mentioned and the other Goddess sighed.

"You're my friend and to someone that travels as much as me...I don't have many others," Hermes said.

"You think that whatever is being hidden from me is going to hurt me," she surmised.

"Yes...and I don't want that," Hermes admonished.

"I know and I love you for that. But I have to know, especially if James might be in danger just by being with me," she lamented.

"You are everything to me...I will be with you, no matter what," he promised.

"I know...but I need to know why I have so many holes in my memories," she insisted. Hermes nodded.

"Just be prepared. What you find out...you may not like," she warned, as she disappeared. Aphrodite looked at her husband, as he looked around.

"Are you sure you're okay? Coming back here has to be hard," she mentioned. He gave her a tiny smile and kissed her hair.

"It's weird, but I'm here for you and it's not like I'm staying this time," he replied.

"Well, well...aren't you a sight for sore eyes, dahling," a voice cooed and he rolled his eyes, as they turned to find Cruella De Vil there, still wearing one of her favorite fur coats.

"I guess I should have expected you'd still be here, since moving on from here would mean going to a not so great place," James retorted.

"Oh, don't tell me you've gone soft. You were so much fun when you were bad, like me," Cruella said, as she noticed the woman on his arm and laughed.

"She looks familiar, expect the hair," she teased.

"She's my wife...Aphrodite," James snapped.

"You really did go the hero path. You must be the one that gave the Charmings their pretty little cup," Cruella replied.

"I am and we have no time for you," Aphrodite said.

"Owe!" James exclaimed, as she pinched him.

"Oh...you are alive. How interesting," she mentioned. Aphrodite summoned a glowing orange ball of magic in her palm.

"Touch him again and I'll personally ask Nyx to administer final judgement to you, unfinished business or not," she threatened. Cruella smirked.

"No need to get your pretty panties in a twist, blondie. I liked him better when he was a bad boy anyway, though I'll always be here dahling if you ever tire of Ms. goody good here," she said, as she walked off.

"Well…I guess the diner is a good place to start," she mentioned.

"Hang on," he replied, as he pulled her back and into his arms, before kissing her passionately.

"You're the only woman I've been with that I truly love," he promised. She smiled shyly.

"I know," she said, taking comfort in that. She leaned her head against his arm, as they made their way to the diner and entered. They looked around and James locked eyes with George, as he sat in a booth. George looked shocked to him and the Goddess as they approached. To his credit, he didn't run and knew it was time to pay his penance.

~*~

"This is insane...we're just people," Leo complained, as they pushed through the horde of reporters and camera people at the entrance to the museum.

"Not to them. It's only been a few days since the world was introduced to your family. They aren't going away anytime soon, especially since your family that is getting their dying newspapers and dwindling social media numbers a flood of new life. Which means stories about your family are making them millions every minute," the Major said.

"And I hate everything in that sentence," Emma quipped. Patricia smiled.

"I know, but just think about the criminals you'll soon be helping to take down. Clayton's network runs deep and dismantling it will be no easy task. But a lot of bad people will end up in jail as a result," she replied.

"Let's hope so, because that's the only way any of this is worth the effort," Regina said, as they made it into the museum.

"Agent Donovan...I'm Lyle Moore, the museum curator," a man said, as he introduced himself.

"Mr. Moore...I have agents posted throughout the museum. With any luck, things will go smoothly tonight," Patricia said.

"I do not like my museum being used for some operation and if any of these priceless artifacts are damaged, I will hold you personally responsible," he replied.

"Mr. Moore...without our presence here, these priceless artifacts will most certainly be stolen. We're here to prevent that," she assured.

"Besides, the museum hasn't had press like this in years and you can thank them for that," she said, referring to Snow and David. He still didn't look happy and stalked away.

"We just make friends everywhere we go," Snow said sarcastically, making him chuckle, as he kissed her hair.

"I'm guessing those are the big finds on display," he said, referring to the items in the center of the atrium.

"Yes...the Olmec terracotta statues. They predate even the Mayan, Incan, and Aztec cultures," Patricia explained.

"A jade mask, which are rare, but have been found before. However, this one is completely in tact and nearly completely untouched. It's worth millions on its own," she continued.

"And finally a previously undiscovered quipu," she said.

"The knots and strings are a language, right?" Snow asked.

"Yes, an ancient Incan language that only a handful of people in the world can still translate," Patricia replied.

"Do they have a usual go to? Surely they've had them translated before," David said. She nodded.

"Yes, but the professor that they have paid in the past died recently. They'll be in the market for someone new. I have the names out already to agents in the field to monitor any activity with those individuals," Patricia said.

"Wait...didn't Eva take an ancient languages course with Rose a few years ago?" David asked.

"She did...but I don't know if it covered quipus, honey," Snow replied.

"It did cover them, but it's really difficult to learn. I only know the basics," Eva said, as they looked at her in surprise.

"You can read quipus?" the Major asked.

"Not entirely. I only learned the basics of the language. One with that many knots is wildly complicated," Eva replied.

"Still…I'd rather people not know that, especially the wrong people," David said protectively. She smiled.

"Don't worry Daddy…I'll be fine," Eva assured him, as the curator brought the room to attention and began his speech.

"Charming...that's him," Snow whispered, as she spotted him across the room, in a tux, with a blonde woman on his arm. The same woman that the Major had named as Natalie Zearing, the daughter of an apparent investor. He didn't turn around all the way, but instead pulled her close and looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you think they see us?" Snow whispered.

"Oh I'm sure of it," David replied.

~*~

"You were right…" Natalie said, as she sipped at her champagne. He scoffed.

"Of course I was...my father was obsessed with them. He bred me to know everything about them," Johnny replied. She smirked.

"And they know you...clearly. The fairest one of them all is trying to act like she's not looking over here," she joked. He smirked.

"I recognize that other man too...I think," she mentioned.

"Oh yes...Xander, my father's right hand, until he betrayed him," Johnny replied.

"I think my mother knew him too," she mentioned. He smirked.

"Oh, your mother knew him quite well," he confirmed. She looked at him.

"Funny...she never mentioned him to me at all," she said, but he said nothing to that.

"So...what's the plan?" she asked. He smirked.

"I am going to introduce myself," Johnny said.

~*~

"James...you're here…" he uttered and the younger man noted the sadness in his voice.

"Don't worry...we're both alive," he replied and though he was very good at hiding his emotions, the relief at that was apparent, as a bit of the tension in his shoulders disappeared.

"But you aren't anymore and imagine our surprise when an autopsy was done and it was discovered that in your last moments, you had all your faculties," James said.

"Yes...and imagine my surprise when I learned you were alive. I thought I'd have a chance to...see you again. That died when I was murdered or so I thought," George replied. But he shook his head.

"I'm not here for you. I'm here, because we know that Blue killed you. I want to know why and I want to know what it has to do with my wife's past," James demanded to know. The disgraced King looked at the blonde next to him and then back at his son.

"Not here...it's too busy," he said.

"Fine...then let's take a walk, but you're going to talk," James replied, as he took Aphrodite's hand.

"Don't worry...I'm more than ready to get this off my chest," he agreed, as they made their way out of the diner and began to walk toward the park. It was nothing like home, of course, as nothing could grow there. The red sky was also unsettling and she hated that her beloved had spent more than thirty years in this place.

"Okay...no one else is around so talk," James said.

"Who revived you? Was it you, Goddess?" George asked curiously.

"No…I do not have that power, but Zeus does. He granted Ruth a second chance to be with David and Robert. But she selflessly gave up that chance for James," Aphrodite answered.

"Is that what you were told?" George asked.

"Are you calling my mother a liar?" James asked sharply.

"No, of course not...but when Zeus is involved, there is always more to the story," George replied.

"In fact, when he died and came here, he would have most assuredly learned of what the Blue Fairy and I did. I'm surprised he has not appeared and thrown me into a fiery pit yet," he confessed.

"I doubt Zeus has any unfinished business...he would have moved on to Elysian," Aphrodite claimed. The King smirked.

"Oh no, my dear...he has plenty of unfinished business, just like I do. I'm ready to face it, despite the eternal hell awaiting me once I unburden my soul," he said. Smoke engulfed the three of them at that and they reappeared in Nyx' Throne room. The Goddess sat in her Throne, but said nothing, as a portal from Elysian appeared and Zeus stepped through it.

"Zeus…" Aphrodite uttered and the emotion on his face almost seemed foreign. He rarely had ever shown her any emotion, other than frustration and mild annoyance when she frequently disobeyed him.

"I have listed your grievances, King George and they have been heard. It is quite a list," Nyx stated. The King opened his mouth to speak, but Zeus raised his hand and the King began to choke.

"Zeus...stop! We need answers from him!" Aphrodite cried.

"The answers you seek will only hurt you...as they have hurt me. It is a burden you should not bear," he claimed.

"That's my decision!" she snapped. Zeus closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded, before releasing his hold on George.

"You will tell your part of the story, but they must know all of it and for that...we must start at the beginning," he said, as the portal of Elysian opened again and a beautiful woman with golden hair stepped through it.

"From the beginning? You mean when I arose from the sea foam?" she asked.

"You were not born full grown from the sea foam...you were born a baby like any other person," the woman said.

"Who are you?" Aphrodite asked, as James squeezed her hand, for somehow, they already knew the answer.

"She is Dione, my first wife...the only woman I ever loved," Zeus confessed.

"And your mother," he confessed, stunning her.

"If you're my father...then why hide from me?" she demanded to know tearfully.

"For your protection, my sweet daughter," Dione interjected. Aphrodite shook her head.

"I don't understand any of this," she sniffed, as James put his arms around her and kissed her hair.

"But you will and once Prince James knows of his past...he has the power to unlock all your memories," Dione said.

"Me?" James asked.

"You are her true love," Dione replied.

"Are...are you saying that the Horned King was right? Am I cursed?" Aphrodite asked.

"It's quite complicated...but in a way, yes," Zeus replied, as he looked at the disgraced King.

"Wait...my past? I know my past," James interjected.

"No...you don't," George said, as he pulled an item from his pocket and James gasped.

"That's a charm...from my mother's bracelet. From my adopted mother's bracelet," he said. He nodded.

"It's an ancient protection charm. You pulled it off her bracelet when you were two, but instead of being upset or having it reattached, she made a pin out of it and insisted you wear it always," George said.

"I know...I thought it was lost in battle," he said sternly.

"No...we took it and used the charm's enchanted nature to absorb your memories," George explained.

"Memories of what?" James asked impatiently, as George placed the charm in his hand and his eyes widened, as the memories consumed him.

~*~

Seven Years Before the First Dark Curse

Prince James expertly dueled his father's most skilled Knights in the palace courtyard. They were relentless, but the Prince was well trained and had far surpassed his teachers, which he proved when he defeated them all in the duel.

"I daresay, Your Highness, that I have nothing left to teach you," the lead Knight said.

"Very true and no offense, but I'm done spending my birthday here with all of you," James replied, as blotted the sweat from his forehead with a cloth.

"Ah yes...your twenty-first birthday. I'm sure the King will soon be choosing a bride for you," the Knight said.

"Well, then he will be sorely disappointed. Marriage should be about true love, not a business transaction," he said.

"And while Queen Serafina's sentiments about marriage are whimsical, Highness, you know as well as I do that a royal must marry for the good of his Kingdom," the Knight said, as James tossed the cloth away.

"You mean for gold. Father has emptied the royal coffers and I'm expected to get us out of this mess," he said bitterly.

"That is the life of a royal. Your life is not your own," the Knight reminded.

"We'll see," James said, as he went up to his chambers to wash up. As he entered, he closed the door and smiled when he felt a pair of arms go around his waist.

"Did I keep you waiting long?" he asked. She smiled, as he turned to face her and kissed her tenderly.

"No…I was watching you spar," she replied.

"That had to be boring," he commented.

"Not at all...I find it very interesting," she purred, as he kissed her passionately again.

"I need to clean up...maybe there's somewhere better to do that?" he asked. She grinned and they disappeared in a puff of orange smoke, before reappearing by a secluded lake, not far from Mount Olympus. Their kisses became feverish and clothes were pulled away desperately, before they waded into the water. He held her flush against him, as he kissed her passionately all over, her lips, her throat, and her breasts.

"James…" she pleaded, as she wrapped her legs around him and he kissed her again before sliding inside her. They made love in the water, passionately and desperately, starved for the pure pleasure that came with their coupling. She collapsed against him amidst a powerful climax and he came not far behind her. They held each other in the water for several long moments, before they proceeded to dry off and make camp for the night. Later, as they cuddled together, beneath thick blankets, on the heels of another bout of lovemaking, he finally spoke.

"I'm going to leave…" he said.

"James...are you sure? That Throne is your birthright," she replied.

"And I want no part of it if it means I can't marry you," he said.

"If gold is what he wants, I can magic him enough for a lifetime," she said.

"If only it was just that. But it's more about power for him. He has his sights set on Midas' Kingdom. He wants a merger, which means me eventually being forced to marry Princess Abigail," he replied. A spark of possessiveness moved through her at that and perhaps a tiny bit of jealousy. The thought of him being with another woman made her want to rage. But he would be forced to produce an heir, even if he continued to carry on with her on in the shadows.

"I won't do that to you...I won't have my true love as my mistress. I will have you as my only," he said, surprising her.

"Reading my mind again?" she teased.

"It's all over your face. You hate Abigail and you don't even know her," he teased back.

"I don't hate her...it's not like it would be her choice either, I'm sure. I would like to turn your father into a snail though," she said. He laughed heartily.

"Go for it...he's barely a father," he replied.

"Where will we go?" she asked.

"Anywhere...you're a Goddess. But if you really can pull it off, then we should leave this realm. My father is sore loser. He'll never stop hunting us," he replied.

"Hermes told me about a place...there's no magic there and it is very different. But she said it's peaceful. There are no royals or Kingdoms. Just people living their lives freely," she said. He smiled.

"Sounds too good to be true, but I'm certainly all for it," he replied. She smiled and kissed him, as they got dressed.

"I have to go to her Temple to summon her, but I'm ready when you are," she said. He nodded.

"I'll be here when you get back," he said, as he kissed her passionately and she disappeared. James heard a noise and unsheathed his sword.

"Show yourself!" he called into the darkness and was shocked to see his father and his lead Knight emerge.

"Hello son…" George said.

"How did you find me?" James demanded to know.

"I've had Knight Rivers tracking you and the Goddess on your excursions for months," George revealed.

"I'm not an unreasonable man. I wouldn't have cared if you kept her as a mistress. But you will not marry her, nor will you abandon your duty to your Kingdom," George said.

"I love her...what we have is far deeper than physical," James growled.

"Love is a poison...and I cannot risk the future of my Kingdom on love," George replied.

"You won't stop me," James challenged, but he was hit with a wave of blue fairy dust and fell unconscious to the ground, as the Blue Fairy emerged from the sky and became full sized.

"Are you sure this will work?" George questioned. She nodded.

"When he awakens, not only will all his memory of her be purged, he'll be easily malleable into whatever you want him to be," Blue said.

"Good...we may make a strong King out of him yet, once I beat all the love and good out of him," George said, as he looked at the head fairy, who was supposed to stand for good and love.

"And the Goddess?" he asked.

"Don't worry...she'll be dealt with as well. This isn't the first time I've destroyed her and it won't be the last," Blue replied. He looked curious at that.

"Why do you hate her?" he questioned and Blue glared at him.

"That's my business," Blue said, as she disappeared.

"Take him back to the castle. His reconditioning begins when he awakens. With true love purged from his soul...he'll be the ruthless King that we need someday," George said, as his lead Knight lifted the Prince onto his horse.

~*~

Blue reappeared in the Temple of Hermes and saw Aphrodite laying unconscious at Hera's feet.

"We have but a small window. Zeus and Hermes left the realm on an urgent matter, but I doubt they will be gone for long," Hera said.

"If Zeus finds out that the two of us and King George are directly responsible for destroying her true love once again, he'll make us wish for death," Blue warned. Hera smirked.

"He doesn't even know she was with him again. He has been too preoccupied with his own conquests lately and has left her to her own devices. He'll regret that," Hera said.

"We know why I hate her...but why do you?" Blue asked.

"You know why. Zeus never loved me or any of his conquests. Only Dione had his heart and therefore his precious spawn he had with her. I am always in the shadow of her beauty and goodness," Hera said.

"And if I will never have true love with her father...then she will never have true love with hers, no matter how many times Zeus brings him back," she added. Blue smirked.

"As long as she's in pain...that's all I care about. After what she did to me...I will make sure her immortality is spent in loneliness and pain," Blue said.

"We make a good team, as always," Hera agreed, as she poofed the water from the river Leche that she had acquired from Hades and forced it down the blonde's throat.

"Hermes will be back soon...we must go," Hera said, as they disappeared.

~*~

Hours Later

Zeus was fuming once again, for when he returned to Hermes temple, they had found Aphrodite unconscious. Athena had determined that water from the river Leche was administered to her, but they had no culprit. He had the usual suspects in mind, but he could not make accusations without proof; something he was sure the perpetrators were counting on.

"And you're sure they were together again?" Zeus questioned.

"I'm sure...I saw them," Athena replied.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded to know.

"You've been a little occupied lately," she snapped in return and he scoffed.

"I am never too busy for my beloved gift...the only thing I have left of my Dione," he confessed.

"I know what people, Gods and mortals alike, think of me. And my daughter always pays for my sins and the hatred against me," he said.

"But no more," he continued.

"You are going to purge those facts from every book in this realm and every memory," he declared.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Athena asked.

"It is in her best interest. Having me as a father brings her nothing but pain and when her true love dies again, as we know he will thanks to the curse, he will not be reborn this time," Zeus decreed.

"What!? Why would you do that to her!?" Athena cried.

"I cannot keep seeing her lose her true love! Even if her memory of him has been wiped away each time, the pain is still there in the fiber of her being. I cannot keep seeing her suffer," he said.

"And soon...she will have new charges. It's almost time. She will focus all her energy on them and perhaps they will not be utter failures like the Dragon King and Queen were," he added.

"Evil has had six hundred unhindered years to fester with none to stand for love and justice. Perhaps the only way to free her of this burden is to allow her true love to die so she can nurture and protect her charges this time from all they are facing," he said.

"They are coming into quite a challenging time," Athena agreed.

"But are you sure letting her true love stay dead is really the answer?" she asked.

"Yes...it's as I said. I cannot keep seeing her go through this and if I ever get the proof I need, I will go after the culprits. They will suffer," he promised. Athena nodded, as she cast a glance at her sleeping half-sister. She had always been Olympus' greatest light and had endured more pain than anyone should, mortal or immortal. If this spared her some of that pain, then she knew that was what they needed to do.

"And you're sure she'll never remember her entire past?" Athena asked.

"Not unless we allow it," Zeus replied. She nodded.

"Then it will be done," Athena confirmed.

~*~

James came out of the trance with a start and looked at her, remembering their past.

"You mean...everything I did. All the bad things…" he uttered.

"Was because I erased your memories of her...and it darkened your soul," George said, as his son punched him in the face. He stumbled back, but James grabbed him by the collar and moved him toward the river of lost souls.

"James!" Aphrodite called, cutting through his rage. His chest heaved, as he tried to get control of his anger. He released the evil King and turned back to her.

"If I give her true love's kiss, now that I know, will it return all her memories?" he asked. Zeus and Dione nodded.

"Yes...all of them and more that you must know as well. What you just remembered is only the tip of everything," Zeus replied.

"Will it cause her pain?" James asked tearfully.

"Immense pain...but also great joy. And with her curse broken, perhaps there will be no more pain," Dione revealed.

"James…" Aphrodite murmured, as he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. A wave of pure rainbow light erupted from their kiss and her eyes widened in shock, as they were both plunged into a river of memories…

~*~

Fandral dismounted his horse and Zorro arrived shortly behind him.

"Anything?" he asked.

"Afraid not...but she is a fairy. She knows how to hide," Zorro replied. He sighed and his lead Knight clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry...we shall find her. I imagine when Snow and David return and learn of what has occurred, they will deal with her permanently," he said. Fandral nodded.

"I'm sure you're right. Send out the second shift patrol and I will see you in the morning," Fandral said, as he went inside and found his beloved Rose in her library, on her ladder putting a book away.

"You're back...did you find her?" she asked, as he helped her down.

"I'm afraid not," he replied, as he kissed her tenderly.

"Well, you'll get her...I have faith," she said, before kissing him again.

"What's this?" he asked, noticing the book she had set aside.

"Answers...at least I think they might be. I know Aphrodite went to the Underworld to find her answers from the source, but I thought maybe we could have Tink use her magic to translate this book. If we know more about Blue and her history with Aphrodite, maybe it will help us find her," Rose said.

"It certainly couldn't hurt," he agreed.

"Good...because we're taking the kids to the diner and meeting her and Neal there," she mentioned. He chuckled and kissed her again.

"Sounds perfect, my angel," he said.

~*~

"What is this?" Leo asked, as he and Emma browsed the food table.

"I don't know...but it looks nasty," Emma complained.

"All of this does...where's the real food?" she asked.

"Well, there is shrimp. That's a plus," he said, as they both ate one.

"True...but I can't fill my empty stomach with just shrimp," she replied.

"Mom...what is this?" Leo asked.

"Well, if I had to guess, it's probably Escargot," she replied, as she stood beside them while David got them more champagne. Leo wrinkled his nose.

"You mean like snails?" he asked in disgust. She chuckled.

"Yes sweetheart...this is kind of a fancy party. They're not going to have diner fare," she replied.

"Well, they don't know what they're missing. I'll take Granny's any day over this crap," Leo complained.

"Right…Killian told me I didn't need my emergency pack of pop-tarts. Trust me, he's never going to hear the end of it," Emma said.

"Hey...we have magic here. We can just magic some," Leo replied. Emma smirked.

"Forget the pop-tarts. I'm going to magic a pizza," she said.

"No…" Snow admonished.

"You two could learn to expand your palette a bit," she teased.

"We will when Dad does...he won't eat Escargot either," Leo pointed out.

"He's right about that," David agreed, as he returned with her champagne.

"Face it Snow...your husband and children eat like ten-year-olds," Regina quipped.

"Please, you prefer pizza and shooting zombies over this kind of party any day," Leo quipped back and she smirked.

"Touche…" she agreed.

"Speaking of parties...this one is about to get less lame I think," Xander mentioned, as they saw Natalie and Johnny approach Summer, JJ, Eva, and Bobby, who were looking at the artifacts on display.

"Oh he is far too close to my babies…" Snow said, as David put his arm around her waist.

"Easy...let's not spook him. Come on," he said, as they approached. Leo, Emma, and Xander followed. The time for confrontation had come.

"Wow…" JJ said, as he examined the quipu as close as he could through the glass container around it.

"It's hard to believe that those knots and strings are a language," he mentioned.

"It truly is...I always found this stuff the most interesting in the history courses I took," Eva agreed.

"It's even more interesting in person," a woman said, as Eva turned to find the woman they had identified as Natalie Zearing. But it was the man next to her that gave her the creeps. She could see Clayton in him and realized he had the same smug smile as his evil father.

"You would know," Bobby commented and she smirked in amusement.

"Wow...that's actually refreshing. Don't hold back, kid," she commented. Johnny chuckled.

"That tactlessness is a famous Charming trait," he mentioned.

"So is defeating evil," Summer added.

"She's right," Snow agreed, as she and Charming arrived. Johnny smirked.

"Xander...long time no see. I was just a wee lad the last time I saw you. About the same age your son was when you abandoned him I think," he jabbed. Xander tried to advance on him for that, but Leo held him back.

"Easy Gramps...that's what he wants," Leo warned. His smirk widened.

"The truest loves...what an honor it is to finally meet face to face. I know your legacy well," he said.

"No doubt...your father had a sick obsession with us," David retorted. Johnny smirked again.

"Oh, the obsession part is true, but it goes far beyond just the two of you," he said.

"We know...it's the chalice he was obsessed with and I have a feeling you're the same," Snow replied. He shrugged.

"I only want what was promised to me. My legacy...which was stolen by that woman," he said, pointing at the Major.

"We don't like the way she went about any of that either, but you are not a victim in this. We know what you've both done and that collection that is your so called legacy? Your father stole it all. Thankfully, we gave it back to the people and it's in a museum where it belongs, just like these items are," David said.

"Wow...you really take that hero thing to a new level," Natalie replied.

"Just keep your sticky fingers off the artifacts and we won't have a problem," David retorted. Johnny smirked again.

"Oh…I'm afraid we can't do that," he said, as the room erupted in chaos when fire burst forth from the floor, sending the entire atrium into hysteria.

"It can't be...he's dead," Leo said, as he recognized the fiery horror that had just erupted around them.

"Only my previous host body is dead, Charming Junior, but my essence will always live on. I have chosen a new host," Mephisto said, as he emerged from the flames. But they didn't back down and they stood between this monster and the innocent people around them. JJ's eyes widened, as he saw a stream of fire coming at him, but was relieved when he safely found himself in a bubble.

"Thanks…" he said in relief.

"This is going to get messy...let's get people out of here," Eva suggested, as they started helping Robin and Belle do exactly that.

"The best thing about this new host is that he is known as Fagin and he came with a criminal network and a gang," Mephisto said, as several heavily armed men stormed into the museum and fired their guns into the ceiling, sending screaming people looking for a way out. Rumple quickly took care of that though and all their weapons disappeared, shocking them. The goons managed though, finding whatever objects they could to use as weapons. Emma and Leo stepped into subdue them and keep them from hurting others.

Johnny took the opportunity to smash the glass on the exhibits, allowing he and Natalie to grab the priceless artifacts, before making a run for it.

"Go...you two need to stop them! We'll handle Mephisto and his goons!" Regina called. Snow and David nodded, as Xander followed them and they gave chase...

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lillaxtrigger · 5 years

Text

Young Hope: Chapter 28

“Motherfucker!” The spice queen’s angry roar echoing beyond the Spicer abode, Cayenne takes her seething frustration out on Kingsley’s broken bedroom wall; punching yet another hole that gives a wider view of the twilight sky outside. “Why couldn’t get to him in time!” Behind the furious spice queen, Kingsley sits completely unconscious at his desk; his head nestled above dozens of documents and reports. Lying at his side weeps the orange haired demon, Alex’s wailing echoing outside as he sobs for his crush with: “No! My beloved Kingsley, taken from this mortal coil against his will! Why do the good always die young!?” Passing by the sad display, the blue angel strolls over to the massive hole that was recently Kingsley’s bedroom wall; kneeling along the edge to gauge a closer inspection. Tore runs his hand along the jagged cracked edges of the hole, his fingertips scrapping against the burnt wood. He fancies a look down outside to see any evidence of any tools or parts left behind by the potential culprit; finding almost nothing of the sort outside of a few pieces of wall and glass along the walkway. “I’ve seen and caused a fair share of blast all through my life. One’s that I shoot out leave holes scarily similar to this one. This was definitely somebody shooting their way inside.” “Looks like the doors seen better days too.” they hear the orange skater claims. Glancing towards the boy genius’s bedroom door, all of them find Mally taking a careful look at the side of the wooden door; running her finger through the burnt remains of the doorknob. “Whoever did this sure wanted Kingsley outta the picture badly.” the orange skater reviews. “You think that the perp we’re looking for might be onto us?” her blue brother questions. “I’d say so.”

“It’s unforgivable...” they hear Alex whisper. All of them turn back towards the orange demon lying beside the comatose genius’s side; watching as he slowly rises from the desks side. “Uh, Alex?” Mally worries. “So long as my fiery red blood courses through my demonic being, I will hunt down whoever harvested my beloved’s precious soul and rip their flesh to nothing bloody chunky pieces!” the demon swears, growing more monstrous and demonic the further he rants. “Definitely loving the enthusiasm there, pal, but we still don’t got us any reliable culprit to speak of.” the blue angel reminds him. “Yeah, we only got a few minor clues to work off. Nothing really case breaking here.” Mally adds. “Not until now.” they hear Cayenne correct.

Upon hearing such, everyone in the room glances back to the spice queen along the side of the broken bedroom wall, Mally wondering: “You found some evidence?” “Un- Yeah. Paid some of my little cousins a visit and one of them was just all over this damn case; cooking up weird conspiracies and made up bullshit about the government being involve. Just the usual.” “And?” Alex asks. “Short version is that Ty wound up snagging a good pic of the culprit leaving the crime scene.” “Could you tell who it was?” Tore asks. The spice queen hesitates to answer the blue angels question, too afraid to give the answer as she looks away with a mix of disappointment and shame on her face. Her silence is all that both Tore and Mally need to process who their friend has in mind, the orange skaters pupils shrinking as her blue brother questions: “So it really is Chloe then?” “But...why? I know we had are suspicions, but...God, why would she be going around doing all this now; especially to her own family!?” the skater frets aloud. “She wouldn’t be doing this?” they hear the spice queen add. “What sort of brain damage induced nonsense are you on about? You said you saw photographic proof yourself.” Alex rudely counter. “I mean not by herself, asshole! Don’t you think its kind of an ass pull how she suddenly has the power to take souls from people in just one night? I guarantee you that whatever she’s doing in all this, she ain’t working alone.” “You think that she might have a partner?” Tore wonders. “More like a kidnapper. Someone has to be forcing her to nab souls in the dead of night.”

Before any of them could attempt to process their Spicy partners theory, all of them soon hear a familiar voice sounding off from the other side of the bedroom door; claiming to all of them that: “You got the right idea there.” All of them glance back towards the door to witness a lone arm breach through its mahogany wood; the entire door soon being ripped out of its frame by the purple merc himself as he finishes his statement with: “But that’s only half the picture.” “So who else you might think be the player 2 in this soul reapin game?” his blue brother asks; their sister wandering over to the desk where Kingsley lies. Pushing the unconscious boy genius aside, Mally riffles through the dozens of witness reports littered on the desk; her eyes shifting between the two she grasps in her hands. “Whoever they are, they might’ve been doing this long before Chloe came in their picture. Reports here talk about someone with a rainbow trail leaving the scenes of the crime a couple nights back.” “So were lookin for somebody who has a rainbow aura, eh. Wonder who that could be?” the blue boy wonders. Upon questioning such does everyone’s eyes stare right at the blue boy himself; Tore flustered by the sudden stare down as he defends with: “What...I just had that a couple times. What would I even want with a bunch of souls anyway?” “For Hera’s sake, it ain’t him. Not even closer.” Roy corrects. “How the hell can your sorry violet asshole be so sure?” Cayenne questions. “Doesn’t all this feel a little familiar to you? The rainbows, all the magic ass bullshit, the kidnappings; or guess soulnappings if you wanna be a nitpicky asshole? Plus, who else would have enough foresight or petty anger to go after Chloe and Kingsley like this?” “So it’s somebody who definitely knew we would be onto them and is trying to cover their tracks.” Mally reviews. “But who do we know that’s still alive that know which people to go after?” Tore further asks. “Hears a little hint. Which witchy bitch did we wind up screwing over a couple months back?” The merc’s apt description makes almost everyone in the room freeze up in but an instant; a strong, dreaded silence crashing throughout the entire room. The blue angel is the first to break through the horror inducing quiet, uttering the name of who his purple brother suggest be their culprit. “Circe.”

“Wait, which bitch may we be referring to here exactly? I normally don’t humble myself to mingle with any of you peons willingly at least, so most of your personal lives are a bit foreign to me.” the orange haired demon questions. “You seriously don’t fuckin remember that witch who you and the rest of our friends and family and almost killed you guys for their powers?” Cayenne wonders. “Hmm...the events you refer to do strike me as rather familiar...Though the rest of it seems rather as a blur.” “It was literally a month ago.” “Why the hell would Chloe of all people be so willing to help her with all this!? She was scared stiff the last time we went up against her.” Mally questions. “Your cherry coke crush might not be as willing as you think.” his purple brother corrects. “You suggesting that Kingsley’s sister might be under the influence of mind control?” Alex claims. “A+ on the upkeep here, my shape shifting student. That self absorbed, “Goddess” got some strange ass magic up her tight, rainbow spewing coochie; mind control would probably be a pretty standard spell for her. And who better to take advantage of for that kind of mental fuckery then an emotionally insecure teenage girl?” “Phrasing dammit!” the orange skater warns. “Mal, you said something a while back about her tryin to nab the red heads little pink trinket off her neck?” her purple brother mentions. “Uh, yeah. As soon as that witch grabbed hold of it, sparks of pink lightning just went flying out from her necklace; almost like some kind of defense mechanism. She mentioned something about it being sealed onto Chloe.” “So if that mystic cunt can’t use that trinkets for herself, why not use it through its owner instead? Swear to fuckin god, I’m gonna slug that witch bitch’s jaw clean off her damn skull! Beat her head in to a bloody pile of pulsating brains and bone!” the spice queen swears.

“So, we have our culprit. But we still don’t got a place in mind. Somewhere she could stash and conceal her horde of gathered souls from the feverish public eye while manipulating the body of her newfound pink puppet.” Tore describes, all the while Alex glances back to the desk that Kingsley lays upon. The demon gently pushes his crush aside to reach for his closed laptop, soon opening the computer and informing the rest of them that: “It seems my beloved Kingsley might’ve been onto that very fact moments before he was tragically robbed of his own soul.” This baiting the entire rooms attention, all of them look to the boy genius’s laptop to discover an entire map of Townsville laid out on screen; several lines and markers tracing themselves along a certain point of the east side of town. “So, if we ask around for where Chloe’s been constantly flying to last night, we’ll find where she’s been packing everyone’s souls. Maybe even the which bitch herself.” Mally claims. “Sounds like a plan to me.” her brother adds. After each of them take a quick pic of the marked part of the map on their phones, they quickly race out through the hole in the bedroom wall. The last of them to take off, the purple merc stops moments before he could glide off alongside his comrades when hearing a phone go off behind him. Glancing back, he notices Kingsley’s cell vibrating along the side of his desk; snatching the comatose boys phone and checking the message that he had received. “Tracking potion is ready. Bring something of Chloe’s to put in it.”

Once reaching the part of Townsville marked on Kingsley’s map, the rest of the gang descend down from the dark city skyline; landing within the bad part of the eastern side. Just from taking a simple glance ahead could all of them tell of the neighborhoods less than grandiose upkeep, reflected by the cracked asphalt roads and unkempt homes and buildings nestled along the side. “Dear hell almighty. Just look at this horrid dumpster fire of city block, it’s absolutely disgusting. What sort of depressing life wasting urchins could possibly spawn from such a filth ridden hole like this?” the orange demon repulses. After giving the demonic brat a swift smack to the back of his head, the spice queen moves in front of the entire team and relays to them: “Alright, bitches. We got us a missing red head to search for and some souls to set free. We don’t got a lot of time on our hands, so I need you all to get the dry shit outta yer ears and listen. Since the witch bitch we’re lookin is using Chloe to harvest a shit ton of souls, the people around here might’ve seen her going back and forth through here last night. I’d imagine a bright pink flyin teenage girl would be pretty eye catching to people around here, so they might’ve seen which way our little red head was going. The plan were cookin up here involves all of us split up and ask around the neighborhood; maybe figure out which direction Chloe’s been gliding back and forth from. Any of you dig up anything worthwhile outta anyone, give everyone a quick text and we’ll rendezvous to where that mystic cunt is cowering at. Everyone clear?” “Yep.” Mally confirms. “Of course.” Alex adds. “So were gonna bother people in the middle of the night to ask them straight faced if they’ve seen a pink little girl flying around?” Tore restates. “That’s the plan.” Cayenne reinforces. “Does it also involve them asking if they’re on any expired meds?” “Right then, lets fuckin move people!” Upon the spice queen’s orders, all four of them split off towards different directions of the district; Tore and Cayenne taking towards the north while Alex and Mally head out south. While skating off alongside her demonic partner, the orange roller blader pulls out her phone; aiming to text her brother to question him if: “You know where Roy wound up taking off to?” A few moments later, the blue boy had responded back with: “No. I didn’t notice he was gone until we landed.” Its in with her blue brothers lack of an answer does she decide to text her purple sibling herself with: “We’ve landed in the neighborhood. Where the hell are you?”

“Can’t join you right now. Little busy with the other half of our mission here.” After texting his little sister such, the violet merc puts his phone away as he stands in Serena’s basement potion brewery; turning back to the potion witch herself. The merc witnesses the young brewer carefully place a small glass veil on the desk set before him; its violet glow illuminating the entire brewery in a shade of deep purple. “And here we go. One veil full of Extra strength tracking potion. Took almost all day to make a single an ounce of this magical concoction.” As the potion witch slides the brew to her purple guest, she further state how: “I’m guessing I don’t need to warn you not to ingest any of this, do I?” “Eh he he. Nope. And I’m guessing I don’t need to ask you if we could make some steamy magic of our own later, do I?” the merc responds with a devious grin. “I’d gouge our eyes out with my spoon if you tried. Now you’re going to need to be absolutely careful with this particular batch of tracking brew, the ingredients I used to mix it are a lot stronger than the standard; so I need you to-” “Yeah, I know. I read the text. Gimme a sec.” Saying such does the purple angel pulls out from the depths his pants pocket a lone diamond earring; tossing the accessory in the brew as he review how he should: “Just plunk something with Chloe’s aura on in the mix and it’ll show the way to red head herself.” “No!” Upon the witch’s exclamation, Serena attempts to catch the small diamond earring before it could be dunked into the mix; her grip failing to grasp the accessory in time before it falls into the brew. “What!? What’s the problem!?” Roy wonders. “You were supposed to wait until we got outside to drop it in!” “Geez. Scared the shit outta me. You’re acting like its gonna violently explode and turn out faces into thick chunky meat soup.” Claiming such, both of them soon discover the potion sitting on the table starting to tremble and bubble before them; the brewing witch reinforcing that: “That’s because it is.”

“Duck.” “What?” “Duck now!” the merc demands, charging a beam in the palm of his only hand. Once Serena ducks underneath the table, Roy fires down onto the basement window behind her; blasting open a sizable hole leading out into the nightly neighborhood. Almost immediately does the purple angel grab hold of the rumbling brew shaking along the table; swiftly chucking the potion through the freshly blasted open hole. Once tossing the mixture outside; both of them soon then hear a booming explosion of shattering glass and metal sound off through the entire block. After the young witch lets out a relieved breath, her and her violet guest scuttle to the blasted side of her basement to take a peek outside. From looking out into the darkened neighborhood, the two find a bright pink aura trailing our from underneath the cracks of the scorched wreckage of someones car; the automobile left reduced to nothing smoking scrap. Beyond the destroyed ride, the purple angel watches the pink trail gliding out towards downtown; its bright pink glow contrasting with the jet blue night sky. “Might be biased here, but you really should warn about shit like this before you hand your potions over to them. Thanks for the help, Serena the teenage witch!” Once thanking the brewer for her aid, the violet merc takes off to follow the fleeting pink trail out towards downtown Townsville; leaving the witch doctors totaled basement behind. Seeing her guest glide away, a frustrated sigh leaves the young witch’s lips; wondering aloud how: “How am I going to explain this to my parents? No really, some purple asshole just waltzed in and blasted a huge hole through our basement.”

Knocking his black coated hand upon the one of the run down neighborhood residence, the orange demon is soon greeted by the site of a man who’s condition reflects his estate; disgusting, poorly dressed, not looking like he’s had a decent shower in literal months. Hell’s sake man, a stained tank top and unkempt facial hair is all that really anybody needs to tell how low your life has sunk. Best just get this over with then. “Greetings, my less than hygienic host. For once in your seemingly miserable life, you’ve been graciously lucky to be visited by such a powerful and distinguished demon such as I; humbly gracing you with my immeasurable superiority and intelligence. Its in arriving in your worthless hovel that you so unfortunately call a home that I may harbor from you a couple of needed questions from the drugged and alcohol ridden body part that you so unfortunately call a brain. May you be as so polite as to invite me in?”

Hearing the demons less than welcoming greeting, the less then fortunate man slams the door right in Alex’s face; turning away from the door and hobbling over towards his stain littered couch. A painful groan escapes from his mouth before he falls face first onto its cushions; the filthy dweller attempting to drift off to sleep on his couch. The man is jolted out from his drifting slumber when the sharp sound of breaking wood reaches his ears; jumping out from his makeshift bed and taking another glance to the door. He discovers a pitch black blade piercing through his front door, the sword roughly sawing through the aged wood until its splits right in half; the demon he shut out turning his arms back to normal as he lets himself in. The orange demon creeping ever closer, the junkie grovels right in the corner of his living room; small incoherent whimpers leaking from his lungs as cowers in fear. “I was really hoping that maybe the residence of this rat infested hole would be at the very least nice enough to cooperate; but I guess we’re all proven wrong from time to time. No matter.” The cowering man peeks out from his covering arms as the young demons shadow consumes his figure; Alex transforming his arm into a whip as he finishes his statement with: “I promise to make you talk one way or another.”

Descending towards the front of another home, Cayenne approaches the door and prepares to knock; her hand reeling back from the front when she catches the sound of insanely loud screaming and crying coming from inside. When finally deciding to knock, she punches the door as loud as she can in hopes of grabbing the attention of those living inside; her pounding soon drawing out a lone woman that looks just so fed up with life's shit. And who could really blame her, the woman’s got 5 to 6 screaming kids just racing around and jumping all over the place like fucking animals; just breaking shit constantly. “Eh, sooo...I was hoping that-” Despite the spice queens best efforts to talk, her words are ultimately drowned by the horrid chaos going on inside. “Maybe I could ask y-” Her words still fail to reach beyond her lips, the constant cries of rowdy children swallowing her voice. “A couple of questions about last night-” Even when shouting at the top of her lungs, her words are unable to reach the mothers ears; the spice queen soon met with the door. A small scoff is all that comes out from Cayenne in that brief interaction, the Spice queen walking from the home as she claims aloud how: “Hot damn there. Fuckin brats are worse then my little cousins.”

On the opposite end of the block, the blue angel gently knocks on the door of another abode; one of which sadly displays far more degradation and decay than the rest. Smells something hella bad in there too. Like somebody’s having a plastic bonfire from inside. Almost a little too much to handle. Even with the horrendous nasty ass stank coming from inside, the blue boy fails to hear anything coming from inside; no footsteps, no voices, nothing. Maybe they just didn’t hear the door. Attempting to bait the attention of those inside, Tore once again knocks on the wood of the door; this time being far harder enough for the pounding to echo across the street. Once done beating on the door, the blue angel’s ears catch the noise of panicked footsteps and shifting metal echoing from within; glancing to the window and taking a peek inside only to find not a soul in site. Rather than moving on to the next home, Tore attempts to investigate further; grasping the door knob and slowly letting himself in. “Hello...Anyone in here?...Don’t worry, I’m not some kind of crazed hobo; I’m just wanting to ask a couple questions here” Looking through the worn torn living room, the blue boy then runs face first into the wrong end of a shotgun barrel; the firearms blasting the boy right in the face.

The surprise headshot causes Tore to fall right on the coffee table, his body breaking the table straight in half upon impact. With the young man lying on the remains of the shoddy piece of tableware, a handful of shaggy, suspicious people come crawling out from dark corners of the run down home; all of them gather to gaze upon their intruders body. “Aw, dammit! It’s just some kid.” one of them curses out. “Guess we got worried about the fuzz for nothing.” “Fuckin dumbass! They’ll probably be snoopin around here more tryin to look for this blue dipshit.” “How bout we hide the body somewhere they won’t find it. Got a landfill a couple blocks back we could dump the kid in.”

Just as all of them approach the thought to be finished intruder in hopes of hiding him somewhere, the blue boy arises from the splintered remains of their coffee table; much to their shock and dismay. All of them swiftly back away as the young man stands before then; Tore rubbing the parts of his face that got shot and exclaims that: “Ah jeez! The hell is wrong with you people? Just sneaking up and shooting me right in the face. You know how painful a point blank shotgun blast is?” Just from the site of the unharmed blue boy, everyone else scrambles to the back of the room; pulling out their various firearms as one of the orders them all to: “Everyone, open fire!” Hearing those demands does the entire room unload everything they have onto their blue intruder, firing out a hailstorm of led bullets upon the young man. Tore himself is left absolutely unfazed by the barrage of bullets battering his entire body; so much so in fact that the blue angel opts to pull out his phone while waiting for all of them to run out of ammo; protecting his device with nothing but his bare hand. Soon enough though, the entire squad finally run out of ammunition; all of them horrified when realizing their assault having done fuck all to their intruder. Discovering this horrible realization, the only course of action left for them all left is to retreat, the entire room scrambling throughout to run down abode while one of them screams out: “Grab the stash! Grab the fuckin stash, man!” “I’m going! God, why did we get busted so fast!?” Figuring how he ain’t gonna be getting any answers of these loons anytime soon, the blue boy decides to simply take his leave; wandering out through the front door as the panicked chaos behind him continues. “Maybe I should ask around in another block.”

Skating away from block on the other side of the district, Mally rolls through the crumbling neighborhood as she ponders on where to look for answers next. That witch could be hiding out anywhere in this mess of a neighborhood; gleefully watching all of us wander around for answers to no avail as she sits on her harvested batch of stolen souls. The chance of finding somebody willing to take the time in this hour of the night to help out some random kids knockin on their doors are pretty much slim already; add the fact of asking them about a pink flying girl gliding back and forth through these parts of town and you’ll be hopeful at best laugh and mocked at. Hell, some people might even take a step further and shoot yo sorry ass for wastin their time too; god knows that people have been probably gunned down here for way, way less than that. Its getting kind of worrying if there’s any answers that could be gathered from this cracked asshole of the city. In pondering all this does a particular site grab the young skaters attention, a glimmer of light coming from a tower standing a little further in the district; though far too high above to gauge whatever could be shining out such a colorful glow. Could it be…

Hoping to garter a better view, the young lass takes off towards the tower in question; taking out her trusty grapple yo and casting it up to the brick wall of an upcoming building. As soon as the yoyo attaches itself to the buildings surface, its string retracts and pulls Mally up from the cracked concrete roads; flinging herself up to the upcoming buildings rooftop. Landing on top of an apartment complex, the orange skater speeds across the rooftop as she races towards the tower; soon finding a massive gap in between the complex and the next rooftop before her. Closing in towards the gap ahead, the skater gathers as much speed as she could muster; picturing the gap between as the crevice back at in the woods. Reaching the very end of the rooftop, Mally takes one giant leap out towards the building across the street; gliding above the poorly kept road above. Her jump this time proves to be a success as she lands right on the edge of the rooftop, letting out a loud cheer as she skates across the top of the buildings. “I did it! I actually did it! That whole gap just jumped over on the first try! Yeah!” In her premature celebration, she winds up tripping on the opposite end of the roof; tumbling down towards the alleyway below. Moments before she could hit the hard asphalt, the falling skater throws her grapple yo up towards the roof of the neighboring building; her gadget sticking itself to the very edge of the rooftop and stopping herself before crashing down. After dodging that nasty fall, the skater climbs up the hard brick wall of the alley, pulling herself up towards the edge of the rooftop.

Once standing safely on the rooftop, Mally manages to finds herself closer to the tower in question; gazing up to its top where she found the glimmering light. Despite the distance she had travels, the orange skater could not tell what shines such a rainbow glow; the windows making up its crown boarded up with countless planks of wood, leaving only a few glints of light to creep through. Yet despite failing to see what lies within, light coming from within proves all too well what may lies beyond its walls; no doubt the perfect hiding spot to horde a mountain of harvested souls.

Dwelling within the dark insides of the tower itself, a slim, feminine figure glares down to the buildings below her; her eyes locked upon the little teenage girl standing atop one of their roof’s. A sinister snicker passing through her devious smile, the figure raises her finger out towards the streets below; the tip of her fingernail illuminating a bright rainbow glow.

Gliding along the other side of Townsville, the purple angel speeds through the night skyline while tracking the youngest of the Spicers through her own bright pink aura trail; all the while the goddess echoing in his head: “So, might I wonder what you plan is once you find her?” “Don’t know. Trying to figure out the same thing. I still ain’t 100% sure if our little red head here is being mind jacked by the witch bitch or if she’s doing all this shit on her own.” “I certainly hope that she isn’t. If that’s the case, then we might have to try and talk her down. Poor baby.” Hera’s last comment throws the purple merc off a tad, her words stirring a hint of curiosity within his head. “Hey, Hera. Mind if I ask ya somethin?” “If its about how much people worship, in your own perverted words “My poppin lockin sweet bouncy bootay”, I will smite you where you stand.” “Nah, nah. Something else.” “Oh.” Just before the angel could ask the goddess his question, the trail he follows baits back his attention; discovering the neon pink aura he follows growing ever brighter. Gazing out ahead of himself, the merc soon catches a faint pink light glimmering in the distance; no doubt it being the red head herself.

Rather than rushing off towards the fleeing teenage girl head on, Roy instead decides to intercept her from the front; ascending up to the rooftops and continue his pursuit from above. While concealing himself from those below, the merc glides over the rooftops neighboring the fleeting pink glow; Roy speeding across the tops and towards the edge to attempt and get a peek of his pink pursuit. Just moments before he could however, the pink light takes a sharp turn away from the purple angel; the merc coming to a skidding halt before making an aerial u turn. Leaping out to the neighboring buildings, Roy lands atop the roof and flies out to the other side; gazing ahead for any sign of neon pink; the trail glowing bright despite not seeing a single glint of the girl herself. “Th-...The fuck...The fuck did she go?” In the midst of wondering such, an illuminating pink light begins to shine from the merc’s backside; Roy himself noticing the glow from the light on his hands alongside the sound of charging power. “Shit!” Seeing the readying attack behind him, the purple angel swiftly turns back and blocks his front with his only arm; such defense nowhere near enough to soften the blast. Facing the full front of the assault, the neon pink beam sends Roy careening across the darkened city block; the neon ray lighting up the night as both it and the merc streak across the skyline.

The purple angel’s trip across the nightly neighborhood ends with him smashing right in the face of a tall office building; the slam down leaving him lodged to the surface as crumbling stone and glass rain above him. Recovering from the crashing pink blast, Roy opens his eyes to come face to face with the one who shot him halfway across the street; beholding Kingsley’s younger sister staring the merc down with her bright pink eyes. Trapped within a translucent pink bubble behind Chloe be a myriad of colorful souls, moaning and wailing like frightened apparitions; all of it confirming the young red head to be the soul harvesting reaper dressed in glowing pink. “Oh Chloe...How could you?” the goddess questions in horrible shock. “I doubt its really Kingsley’s sister behind all that bright pink flare.” Hearing the purple angel’s accusation makes the red head raise a single eyebrow to her foe, a small smile forming between his cheeks as Roy presses further with: “That’s right, bitch. You really think I’m that stupid enough to not figure it all out? All the little things that were going on were more than enough to piece it all together. Getting a shit ton of power in just one night and not having my senses be enough to trace all of it right to the red head. It typically wouldn’t be hard for me to keep a good track on power that intense, but you very well knew that, didn’t you? You had the foresight and magic to mask the red head from my life sense so that you could prolong us finding the poor girl; and that is exactly what gave you away. Who else would have that kind of magic at their disposal and know to cast it ahead of time to throw us all off, but the witch bitch whose rainbowlicious asshole we kicked in a month ago. So quit the bullshit and show yourself Circe!”

Taking in the violet angels accusation in full, the red head can’t help but let a sinister smile gradually crack between her cheeks; a small giggle leaking out from her smirk. The young girls giggle eventually transforms into full blown cackling; her snide laughter ringing across the entire darkened block. Once the teenage red head laughter dies down, her bright pink eyes gaze back to the lodged merc; her voice resembling that of a full grown woman as she admits how: “I was honestly beginning to wonder which of you mortals would catch on next. I was starting to think that all of you worthless fools were basically braindead; well, except for that damn Spicer boy. Oh how he was so close to busting up my little soul harvesting operation and ruining everything; but I’ve learn from my mistakes from last time. I anticipated him be a potential thorn in my side and swiftly plucked him out of the picture before he could squeal. The rest of your pathetic group might be onto what part of this horrid city I’m hiding in; but by the time they figure out where, it’ll be far too late. Once that tank of souls I’ve been harvesting fills with the lives of this bustling metropolis, I shall devour them all and move on to the next town; and then to next, and the next after that. All the while I keep this cute little rose by my side, using her to harvest the souls of countless others; up until I garter enough of them to finally break that accursed seal put under placed on her Amazon crystal. With the crystal in my rightful possession and my magic at its peak, I’ll have attained enough power to trump anybody who dares stand in my away. Even against you...Hera.” Hearing the possessed teenager call to the goddess in his head takes both Roy and Hera herself completely off guard, the witch letting out a prideful snicker from the merc’s astonished gaze and continuing with: “That’s right, my goddess. I can hear you speaking inside that purple pricks head. I may never come to understand what drove you to take someone so undignified and crass as your messenger; but it really doesn’t even take a simple minded peon to understand how mine has the clear advantage.”

“You wanna bet?” Roy growls aloud. Its in asking this does the merc pull himself out of the mess of crumbled and cracked stone and glass; lunging out towards the hovering pink girl before her as he reaches his only hand out for the pink trinket tied around the young girls neck. Mere moments before the violet angel could grasp the possessed red heads smooth pink stone, a wall of translucent pink suddenly forms between him and Chloe; a smug smile cracking upon the girls face the witch asks: “Tell me something, mortal...What part of just rushing at me did you think was going to be effective?” Its in that moment that the shield blocking the merc’s grasp begin to expand around his entire body; the translucent energy quickly trapping the angel within a bubble of solid pink. Held captive within the bubble, Roy does whatever he can to attempt and escape from the prison of bright pink; punching and shooting the inner layer of bubble with as much strength as he can muster. Even when hitting his prison with all that he’s got, the inside of the bubble proves to hold not a single scratch; the self proclaimed goddess letting out a mocking laughter as she rises right above her caught purple pest. With but a single stomp, the possessed red head sends her violet foe rapidly plunging down to the nightly streets below; all while charging up a bright pink blast in the palm of her hands. Tossing the bright ball of pink down with the falling angel, the manipulative witch watches as both her foe and her blast slam down upon the concrete roads in a mess of smoke; the explosion ringing across the entire block. Gazing down upon the erupting cloud of smoke underneath, the goddess calls out to her unfortunate violet adversary; advising him with: “If I may humbly share a smidgen of godly wisdom, its that I suggest you take your losses and quit while your still breathing. Lest you desire for me to relieve you of your other arm.”

Out from the bottom of the smoke cloud, the purple angel flies out from behind the peering self proclaimed goddess; tossing out a ball of darkness out to the possessed red heads backside. As the sphere of shadows closes in towards the bewitched Chloe, a bright pink light shines in front of the young girl; turning back to the approaching blast with a huge pink hammer. With only a single swing, the mind controlled red head bats the ball of shadows aside; the sphere of shadows exploding upon the buildings beside her. After deflecting the purple angels darkness, the possessed red head uses the momentum of her swing to spin in place, quickly picking up breakneck speeds while keeping a tight grip on her pink hammer. Once gaining enough velocity, the bewitched teenager flings her bright pink hammer down the darkened streets; speeding towards the purple merc like a descending meteor. The streaking mallet proving far too fast to reliably dodge in time, Roy reaches his only arm out to the approaching pink weapon; hoping to stop the hammer with his only hand. Though he indeed manages to catch the head of the massive mallet with just the palm of his hand, the intense force behind it sends the purple angel skidding across the neighborhood; the asphalt breaking beneath his feet as he slides. His skidding trip comes to a very hard stop when crashing straight into a hard stone wall; the blow causing the entire building to collapse onto the violet angel.

The possessed teenage girl slowly descends down towards what remained of the destroyed buildings, her bright pink glare watching as her purple prick of a foe digs himself out of the resulting rubble. “What...the...fuck...is happening right now!?” Roy wonders aloud as he stands up from the crumbled stone. Hearing a devious cackle echo from above, the purple merc glances up witnesses the glowing pink young girl floating overhead; the self proclaimed goddess answering him by declaring that: “Tis divine justice, you barbaric darkling; Retribution for the heretics that have wronged me in the past. I dare say there may never be a more satisfying and sweet feeling than personally hand out rightful punishment; especially when using one of the guilty’s own companions to deliver it. Perhaps once I’m done toying with you, I’ll indulge in serving my holy wrath on the rest of your friends; reveling in the looks as my young puppets very site spurs betrayal, confusion, anger and hopelessness on their faces once ending each of their very pathetic lives. Oh, I can’t wait to see them all suffer in sorrow.”

Taking in the goddess’s condescending threats to kill his loved ones, a raw, intense rage stirs within the purple angel’s being; Circe’s maniacal laughter further fueling his unbridled fury. Focused by his anger, the merc charges out towards the cackling bewitched red head; a coat of black and violet darkness enveloping his armless side as he dashes forth. Distracted by her self indulgent glee, the bright pink teenager is caught off guard when Roy rams straight into her; the unholy assault sending the self proclaimed goddess towards the tall building down the road. Hurtling towards the buildings brick face, the enchanted red head starts slowing her flight down; decelerating herself the closer she reaches the wall. The manipulated Chloe manages to land on her feet when reaching the brickwork; her hands illuminating a bright pink glow as she rises from the buildings face. Soon after recovering from the unholy tackle, the possessed red head leaps back towards the angel who dares strike her; casting from the tips of her fingers a barrage of bright pink. The bewitched teens swarm of pink swiftly forms into a whole bouquet of blooming sharp roses, their razor thorn stems aimed at the approaching purple merc.

Seeing the barrage of razor roses incoming, the violet flies out to the side to evade their throny cuts; gliding inches above the stone face of the building. Witnessing more of them closing in fast, the merc kicks off from the buildings surface to dodge them in time; diving down to the dimly lit streets below. Once landing on the asphalt, the merc leaps back towards the possessed red head in front of him; all while the puppet herself stands without so much as flinching from his approach. As the purple angel charges towards the red head, he fail to notice the roses that he had evaded turning back towards him, their pointed stems darting towards his backside. Just moments before Roy could ram the self proclaimed goddess out, the roses dig their stems in the purple angels back; the surprise flowery backstabs throwing the merc off his charge. While easily evading her stunned foes unholy tackle, a bright glimmering glow shines out from the palms of Chloe’s hands; the light soon constructing itself into a sharp neon pink sword. Her newly made blade in hand, the brainwashed young girl swings her sword towards the merc; aiming the sharp end right at his exposed neck. Moments before the blade could swipe at his tendons, the lethal edge is caught just in time by the merc’s only hand; his palm bleeding on the sharp end as he halts the sword. Despite stopping the bewitched girls assault, the grin on her face fails to waver; the possessed Chloe gliding her glowing hand right to the merc’s stomach. In a flash of bright pink, the young red head shoots the purple angel square in the stomach with a powerful blast; the blow strong enough to send Roy rocketing through the sky in a trail of pink. Watching as the black angel careen through the darkened sky, the magical goddess can’t help but indulge in having warded her purple pest away; letting out a menacing cackle as the witch flies off into the distance.

Wiping off the stains of ruby red crimson from the black of his hands, Alex ventures further through the nightly backwater streets; the streetlamps he passes under reflecting off the bits of blood the orange demon wipes off. “Well, that was a rather unfortunate waste of time. Barely got any answers from that urchins frightened mumbling and wailing. Ugh, the absolute audacity of that man. A higher demon such as I took the time to stop at his worthless, dirt ridden abode in this run down, rat infested street hole, and he doesn’t even have the basic courtesy to even greet me, much less kneel at my very presence. I honestly wonder what this world has come to sometimes.”

On the cusp of this rant does the orange demon hear a faint sound of footsteps echoing nearby; the combined noise of kicking gravel urging Alex to transform his arms into lethal blades as warns whoever may be near that: “I dare warn you. My blades are sharp enough to slice through the very air you breathe. Think carefully before you rush into your doom.” Despite his brave words, the orange demon can’t stop his legs from trembling beneath him; his eyes constantly darting across the surrounding nightly streets in hopes of finding who may be stalking him. While the frightened demon gazes out to the streets ahead, a single tap to his backside causes him to jump; swiftly turning back and slashing out at whoever may be behind him. His arms lethal edge is blocked by the neck of a hockey stick, the demon calming himself when he hears a familiar voice urging him to: “Chill out here, Alex. It’s just me.” The reassuring tone makes the young demon open his eyes, finding Roy’s younger sister blocking his blade swing; Alex transforming into a girl as she turns her arms back to normal. “You!? D-don’t sneak up on me like that again! I could have sliced your head off your shoulders for satans sake!” “Aw, guessin you do care?” “Perish the thought. Killing an ally by accident would be seen as rather foolish in any case. And didn’t my brash older cousin split us all off to gather information on finding the witch that captured my Kingsley soul? If you have nothing significant to report, then I suggest you stop wasting our precious time and get back to your duty.” “And if I in fact do got something important to say?” “Well then, the night is fleeting. Spit it out already.”

“I got a pretty good idea where all the souls might be stowed away at. Saw some rainbow lights shining from the top of that tower over there.” the skater explains, her finger pointing out towards the towering building set to the north. “Hmph, your certain?” “As absolute as your horns be black.” “...Right. If that is the case, then there’s no time to lose. We best head out at once.” Hearing her demonic partners eager determination, the orange skater pulls out her phone and states how she’s: “Right there with ya, my black horned bud; just gimme a minute to text the others.” Just before Mally could get to her texts messages, Alex lowers the phone down from her face and claims how: “Oh please, we don’t need those brutes. I’d wager that the two of us are perfectly capable of freeing all those souls ourselves.” “Might I remind your sweet demon girl ass of the insanely powerful witch that’s probably lurking inside; ya know, the one that nearly killed us all. It’d be better for all four of us to go in at once to even the odds.” the skater informs. “Well then, if you insist on indulging in the notion, they you could at least come up with a halfway decent plan while your at it.” “Oh, and like you can come up with one on the spot?” “I in fact can. Clearly, the best strategy going in this is to coordinate a pinching assault; with your moronic brother and my brutish cousin coming in at the top while the both of us sneak in through the bottom. Even if that horrid witch dares to attempt and escape, she would have to handle wasting time dealing with us. Once we corner and finish her off, we free all the souls trapped within.” “Hmm...Since it sound like your coming up with all the idea’s, you got a way for us to sneak inside?” The young skaters question causes a sinister smile to form upon the demons face, a devious snicker escaping from Alex’s mouth.

Out along the green pasture of the Townsville park, a lone couple stands upon the stone bridge above the small river; both the girls staring upon to the darkened sky as one of the complains on how: “Aw, I can’t see even a single star out tonight. Wish this cloudy weather would just let up.” The other girl of the two glances back up at the sky as her lover eyes drift down, reassuring her partner on how: “Hey, I’m sure it’ll clear up soon. I bet we’ll even see something magical tonight.” Her eyes glued to the sky, the woman discovers a bright pink light high among the clouds; its glow urging her to grab the attention of her love and mention how: “Babe look! A shooting star!” The other girl pulls her gaze back up above to witness the trailing light drift across the sky, amazed by the site as she awes: “Whoa, I’ve never seen one so...pink before.” “It looks beautiful.” Its in admiring the star do they realize the bright pink glow growing in size; it’s luminescence beginning to blanket their bodies. “It look’s like its getting closer.” “Uh, yeah…How bout we take this date somewhere else?” Stating this do both ladies race off as the comet closes in; the couple running off as the bright neon pink light crashes straight into the stone bridge.

The resulting dust eventually settles, unveiling the park bridge reduced to nothing but crumbled and cracked stone; the water from the river leaking our from the cracks of the rubble. Out from the mess of rubble, a lone arm punches itself out from the pile of stone bridge pieces; the arms purple owner soon pulling the rest of himself out of the rock. “What...the...fuck...” Once taking in the biggest breath his lungs could possibly hold; Roy screams aloud: “What the fuck was that Sailor moon hentai bullshit about!?” “Roy, calm down.” the goddess in his head insists. “How in the...Why...What the hell was all that about!? I could barely land a hit on her! Nothing I threw at her worked! How the hell is she doing all this?” “Circe has been utilizing the full potential of the Amazon crystal through Chloe’s body; she obviously knows how to bring out its full power.” “Even so, nothing I did even slowed her down. She just scoffed it all off like it was nothing.” “Well that’s not much a surprise. The crystals were designed to counter and combat against the forces of darkness. I’m afraid your shadowy powers can do little against her.” “Agh, fuckin plot armor. Hate that shit. Wonder how it would stand against a slice to the jugular.” “Roy, your honestly not thinking about killing the young girl, are you?” “Hate the thought of it. Almost makes me shiver thinking about it. But if things get that bad, I might just have to.”

The purple angel’s regretful response draws out a surge of pink energy to course through the merc’s entire body; the flowing power causing the merc to let out a painful cry. “You will do no such thing!” Hera forcefully demands. “Dozens of lives are riding on all this. Kingsley and his parents, Tore and Mally’s mom. What other choice do I have?” Asking such causes another wave of pink to painfully course through the merc’s entire body; the shock proving intense enough to make Roy kneel on ground. “If you think of so much as hurting her, Roy. I swear that I will send forth a powerful shock straight to your brains.” “Why the hell do you care so much about that red head? You barely batted an eye when I wound up snuffing out a dozen others; what makes her so special to you?” “I...I can’t tell you. You’ll just have to trust me.” “Don’t you fuckin gimme that “blind faith” bullshit to be, dammit. I ain’t the kind of complacent dipshit that just believe whatever people say to me. Either you tell me why, or just shut the hell up.” “I can’t. If I did, it would potentially open old wounds that are just too painful to bear.” “And you think that’s any worse than what’s happening now?” the merc questions, arising from the wet dirt. The purple angel hears not a single answer from the goddess; not even a single word could be heard ringing in Roy’s head. “What urges you to prioritize one mortal over a dozen others!? Why demand me to spar one over the hundred other’s I’ve taken. Hypocrisy? Faith? Goals and end? Prophecy? Blood? Answer me, Hera!” “Because Chloe is my granddaughter!” Having finally drawn out an answer from the goddess, her words cause the merc’s pupils to gradually shrink; the only response that could escape from him being: “What?”

Strolling through the cracked, dirty sidewalk of the run down neighborhood, the blue angel can’t help but ponder upon where his purple brother might be. Mally did text something about him saying that he was taking care of the other half of the mission; meaning that he’s probably trying to find Chloe in all this chaos. If what he might have been talking about her being possessed is true, then we might be in some trouble if she winds up coming here.

In the midst of thinking of the potential consequences of going against their red headed friend, the faint sound of growling catches the blue boy’s hears; Tore stopping dead in his tracks and glancing around to try and find where he might’ve heard it. Was that a bear? Seriously, that sounded like a bear growling back there. Why is there one out this far in the city? Despite these questions, the boy finds next to no sign of any ursa in site; eventually shrugging off the bizarre occurrence. Eh, might’ve just been someone’s TV cranked up way too loud.

Once the blue boy turns his back away, a massive shadow emerges from around the corner; the shadow letting out soft, heavy breaths from its drooling maw. Once close enough to the boy’s backside, the shadow stands as tall as it can; towering over the blue angel as it begins to descend its claws towards his head. Moments before the beasts claws could dig into his flesh, Tore turns right around and catches its giant maws with his bare hands. The blue boy is caught off guard on discovering what stands against him, gazing upon the fuzzy underside of a huge ass bear; the ursa letting out a maddening roar as it attempts to push the boy down. In the midst of its roar, the blue angel headbutts the bear right in its muzzle; the blow sending the fuzzy beast reeling back. Tore takes the moment to follow up his head butt by charges straight towards the stunned ursa, driving his fist straight into the beast stomach and sending him flying into a brick wall. The unexpected ursa collapsing onto the sidewalk, the blue boy starts to carefully approach the downed bear; poking at its fuzzy hide while it remains unconscious. Just what the hell is a giant ass bear like this doing roaming the streets at night? The zoo’s on the other side of town. In the middle of inspecting the beast, the blue boys ears catch the sounds of a dozen animals worth of enraged growls; turning back to discover himself surrounded by an entire cavalcade of predatory animals; all ranging from tigers, buffalo, hyena, lion, eagles, bears, and pumas. As all of them encroach closer towards the indigo teenager, only a single thought rings in his head. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Seriously, how the hell did this happen?” Cayenne wonders as well, holding back a screaming wild baboon inches from her face. Before the simian could have the chance to tear into its foe’s face, the spice queen socks the ape right off her; sending the animal slamming right into a set of garbage cans that topple over on impact. After smacking the ravenous baboon off her, her ears catch the growl of a predator approaching from behind; turning back to discover a huge lion on the verge of pouncing right on her. With only just a single kick, the Spice queen plants her boot right in the lethal felines face; the blow causing the oversized cat to careen straight into the side of a buildings. Checking her side, Cayenne witnesses a speeding hyena lunging towards her; its bared fangs aiming at the side of her stomach. Right when the dog was ready to bite down upon the girls side, the spice queen grasps its neck moments before it could sink its teeth into her stomach; soon tossing the hyena down the neighborhood.

As she watches the wild dog scamper off into the darkness of the streets, her ears catch the sound of panicked children screaming from nearby; glancing behind her to witness a set of familiar looking kids racing across the street. “Help!” “Mommy! Mommy!” “Somebody, help!” “Ah, no, stop!” All of them cry out for somebody to come to their aid as they race away from the roaring wrath of a fearsome leopard; the feline claws coming out as it closes in on its feverish pursuit. Cayenne acts fasts and zips out towards the fearsome leapord, tackling the beast away from the children and pinning it to a nearby brick wall; the spice queen evading its constant claw swipes as she holds the feline down. “All of you get somewhere safe and hide, now!” she demands from the kids. “Mommy, no!” one of the cries. “Don’t worry, I’ll find your mom...Just beat it already!” “Stop it please, your hurting her!” another of them pleads. Hearing one of the kids mention such at first confuses the Spice queen, wondering what the hell they mean by it; glancing towards them all to find them staring upon her with pleading eyes.

As she looks away, one of the leopards back legs slashes its claws onto its captors stomach; the unexpected and sudden swipe causing Cayenne’s grip to loosen. This gives the wild beast the chance to turn the tables on its foe, shaking out of Cayenne hold and falling right onto her; the beast attempting to tear into her as the spice queen holds the feline back. “Mommy, please! Stop hurting her!” one of the children beg out loud. Its in hearing this that Cayenne finally realizes why these kids all look familiar, its the kids of that mom she could barely get a damn word out to; the pieces all quickly connecting for the spice queen. This giant fucking cat is their mom! “How...how the hell did this happen!? She just have enough of yer shit and thought you’d be better of as sirloins than kids?” Cayenne questions the children while holding their transformed mother off her. “We were all just having fun running around and playing tag, when she saw a bright rainbow light surrounding our mom and turn her into a giant cat. After that, she started chasing us all through the streets. We begged her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen.” Rainbow light?...Circe. That witch bitch has to be onto us, tryin to slow us down with this shit. The feline beast swiping its claws inches from her face, the spice queen finally tosses the transformed mother off her; Cayenne kicking the ravenous leopard crashing straight into a set of trash cans. While the feral feline starts to pick itself up, Cayenne takes the opportunity to lunge forth towards the predator; grabbing one of the trash cans in her rush. The spice queen scoops the transformed mom into the garbage can and shuts it in, trapping the beast in the can as she holds the lid down; Cayenne struggling to keep her grip as the can jerks and shakes under her. Having caught the feral leopard, she turns her gaze over towards the set of children; demanding that they: “Don’t you little ankle biters just fuckin stand there; help me find something to tie this can down!”

“What the fuck do you mean she’s your granddaughter!? You really sittin here expecting me to buy that Kingsley and Chloe are from line of demigods!” Roy exclaims. “Well, no. My daughter was born far before I became a goddess. I had perished in battle making sure that she and my grandchildren would have a future to live for, but left my little princess all alone in this world. I can’t imagine what any of them may think of me.” “And this has something to do with our situation because-” “Believe me when I say I can’t bear seeing my granddaughter reduced to a puppet for Circe’s plot, but I will not let that be an excuse to have her executed.” Hera proclaims. “Alright, alright, fine; I won’t touch your precious baby girl. But we still need to do something. If taking her head on and stealth killing is out; what the hell else you expect me to do?” the purple angel wonders.

“Hmm...there may be perhaps be one thing that we could try, but I’m afraid you may not live through the process.” “What do ya got in mind?” “Its rather in your mind, really. There is a tiny smidgen of the crystals power dwelling within you; specifically trapped inside your brain. It’s how I’ve been communicating with you all this time. That tiny bit of power might be enough to undo the seal placed on the Amazon crystal; effectively rendering Chloe completely harmless.” “Fan fuckin tastic. Mind telling me how I can use this power trapped in me head?” “I afraid that you can’t. Such raw goddess energy can only be wielded by those with the body and or mind of a woman.” “Why exactly is this called a plan again?” “Its because I can remotely control that power without you. I can essentially use it to project myself through you and lend you a fighting chance.” “I guessing this is where the “but” comes in.” Roy claims. “If we’re wanting it to be that effective, then we’ll need that energy coursing through your entire body.” “Sounds simple enough. Just get it outta my head and run it through.” “I’m afraid its anything but. Not only do I have to carefully navigate the energy out of your delicate brain; but also to make some adjustments to your insides so that there won’t be any complications afterwards. All of which will no doubt be incredibly suffering. I’m not sure you’ll make it through such a painful process.” “Bitch, have you seen how much shit I took this past few months? Beaten, blasted, frozen, set on fire, and stabbed through multiple vital organs. I got enough in me to take years worth of torturous abuse and come out of it sticking the middle finger outta my torturers asshole.” “I can’t exactly stop once we start. Are you sure your ready to endure such constant agony?” “I ain’t like we got a lot of choices or time on our hands. So we best get this shit show on the road.” “Well, if you insist. I suppose I should get started.” the goddess mentions. “Right...So just a heads up here, how painful is this going to be exactly? Will it just be a small numbing sensation or will it be a frothing agony so insanly torturous that’ll be like shoving an entire bramble branch entwined with barbed wire so far up yer ass that the thorns’ll be pokin out yer mouth. Or maybe could be that-” Interrupting his wondrous rantings, the purple angel’s entire body starts to glow a brilliant shading pink; Roy convulsing as he screams in utter pain that: “Aaaggghh! It’s worse! I didn’t think it was possible, but its so much worse than I thought!”

Set along the bottom of the dilapidated tower, a large grate stands dislodged right next to an open air vent; the midnight air blowing through its steel insides. Alongside the cold night winds, the sound of foot steps could be heard ringing through the tunnel; the breeze reaching the vertical tunnels and climbing up the shaft. Spreading itself through the tunnels, a bit of the wind reach out to both the orange haired demon and skater crawling through the sheet steel vents; Mally slightly shivering from the breeze as she checks her phone. While they traverse through the dust ridden vents, Alex swats away the dozens of cobwebs littering the path ahead of him; letting out a disturbed shiver as she glances back to her human partner to question: “Have either Cayenne or your blue dumbass of a brother called back yet?” “I’ve been sending both of them dozens of texts and voice mails, but I haven’t heard back from any of them yet.” Mally explains. “And what of your purple prick of your other brother?” “Busy.” “Gah, If none of them have even bothered to review my strategy, then I’m afraid the two of us will need to switch tactics. What else could I have expected from those incompetent fools; their lack of proper attention spans will surly spell our demise.” “Oh, don’t gimme that. Neither of us know what’s even going on out there. Maybe if you’d stop constantly putting other people down; you’d see that they aren’t as terrible as your constantly making them out to be.”

“Well, I’m so sorry that I’ve grown to have such low expectations of everyone; as if the occasional mockery and social exclusion hasn’t already painted a good picture for me already.” “I’m guessing having black horns and hands haven’t exactly given you that great of a social start; hasn’t it?” “I’m beginning to wonder what your first guess might’ve been. All the way back in kindergarten and stretching to this very day, everyone can’t help but give suspicious glares and wondering stares; as if questioning whether I’m nothing but a freak under these horns. Each and every one of steer clear of me whenever I walk by, not even bothering to talk to me when they bump by.” “...Not everyone does.” “Well of course. I’m certain that my family members have a sort of obligation to stand by me. But they’re no different in the end, glaring at me all the same.” the orange demon explains while gazing ahead. “While I’d argue otherwise, they’re not who I meant.” “Ah. Kingsley, of course. The only diamond in this hellish rough. Out of all of the people that I have encountered in my 13 year old life, he was the only one to have actually bothered to care; even stand up for me while I was being hounded by my older cousin. Quite the notable exception to this world filled with judgmental cowards.”

“What about Roy?” Hearing the purple angels name causes the demon to stop crawling in his tracks, Alex glancing back to the young girl behind him and questions: “What about him?” “He didn’t see some kind of loud mouth, pompous demon like everyone else. He saw somebody who wanted to be as amazing as they say. He could have just scoffed at you and continued with his life like every other arrogant asshat; but instead, he took the time and patients to try and change you into something better. Roy harnessed your spite, anger, and hatred to try and turn you from just another bragging and whining brat, into the demon that proves to be everything they say they are.” Hearing this sentiment coming from her masters own sister draws out nothing but silence from the demon; Alex’s eyes drifting to the sheet metal both her and her partner crawl upon. “So, now that your not bragging anymore. Can ya think of what else the two of us can do to free all the souls?”

Beyond the towers foreboding streets, the sound of screeching and roaring animals ring throughout the neighborhood; the blue angels wings lighting up the darkened streets as he glides across the skyline. In his flight through the run down neighborhood, Tore glances back to find himself being pursued by a flock of deadly birds; their talons aimed right at the boy as they close in. “Come on. Leave me alone already!” he pleads while casting forth ball after ball of light towards the chasing flock. The birds of prey evades the blue boys barrage of pale light energy, the flock dispersing in all directions while evading their pursuits shots; one of the hawks ascends high above the skyline to soon dive bomb straight down towards its target. Once close to the unsuspecting blue angel, the hawk draws forth its sharp talons as it prepares to strike; gliding across its pursuits side and slashing through his clothes. Upon the hawks sudden swipe, Tore hisses out in pain as he grasps the side of his stomach; the warm wet crimson of his blood staining his white blazer. Before the blue boy could heal the new wound, an eagle flies in from below; feeling its sharp talons swipe through his face and clip his eye. The two back to back assault cause the angel to plummet back down towards the darkened streets below; crashing straight into the asphalt road. After taking the hard fall onto the concrete roads, the indigo teenager rises from the pavement as the palms of his hands emit a bright glow upon the side of his stomach and face; uncovering them as the light fades to reveal both completely. “Agh! A slash to the stomach I can take, but the eyes...god, I never knew how much that hurts.” In that moment do his ears catch the sound of a cry for help sounding off alongside loud squealing; the blue angel gazing in the noise to discover an elderly lady being chased down the street by a charging wild boar.

“Help! Somebody please!” the old woman pleads aloud while fleeing from the mad pig behind her; the tusks of the pursuing boar closing in on her backside. Just when it was ready to ram right into her back, a pair of hands grabs hold of its tusks and stops the charging boar right in its track; the woman hearing the pig scream and gazes back to discover a blue haired angel holding the wild pig back. “Don’t worry, lady! I got this!” the boy reassures the lady; holding the boar in place as it struggles to escape from his grasp. Trapping the animal in his grasp, Tore heaves the boar off its four hooves; lifting it overhead to toss its hairy pigskin right into a brick wall. Watching the boar slam hard into the wall causes the old lady to let out a horrified gasp; her eyes gazing back to the young blue boy when she notices a bright light beside her. “I wonder if I can make bacon like this?” he ponders, charging a powerful energy the palm of his hand. “No!” the old lady shouts.

Just when the blue angel was about to fire out towards the stunned, Tore soon feels something tackle him straight to the concrete ground; his beam misfiring and speeding through the night sky. Tackled to the pavement below, the blue boy soon discovers the spice queen right on top of him; Tore questioning her with: “Cayenne!? What’s the matter with you!? I was just about to make egg sandwiches with a side of bacon bits outta one of them.” “Quit trying to blast the brain outta the animals around here, you blue dumbass! We can’t afford to kill any of them!” “Why!? They could seriously hurt people!” “Because they are people, Dammit!” Her Spicy comrades answer throws the angel back a bit; the boy proving confused as all hell as he letting out a preplex: “...Huh?” “It’s true.” he hears somebody confirm.

Glancing to their side, both of them find the old woman that the angel had just saved look down upon them, continuing to support Cayenne’s claim by recalling that: “That wild boar you just threw over there happens to be my husband.” “How...how’s that even possible?” “I don’t know. All I saw was a bright rainbow light that woke me up beside my husband; looked over and saw him transform before my very eyes. Once he turned into a pig, he chased me outta the house and across the streets. No matter how much I beg him to stop, he just wouldn’t listen.” After hearing the old woman’s story, Cayanne lets the blue boy stand back up from the cold concrete; Tore asking the spice queen: “So what’s our next move, captain? It’s not like we can just stuff them all in one building somewhere; all of them would just tear each other apart either trying to get out or just natural instinct telling them to go fuck them all up.”

To the blue angels question, the spice queen takes a moment to ponder what exactly they could do to combat this unorthodox situation; soon coming up with something and ordering the angel before her that: “What you’re gonna do is round up any people you see on the streets that haven’t turned and take them somewhere safe. While your taken care of all that, I’ll go around and keep the entire zoo’s worth of rabid animal people from getting further out into the city. God knows that if all of them start stampeding through town, all of Townsville would turn into a massive shitshow. That clear, bitch?” “Aye aye, captain!” Hearing the blue angel confirm her orders, the spice queen glides over to the wild hog and heaves it onto her shoulders; soon flying off into the night sky with the pig. Tore meanwhile sweeps the old woman off her feet; the elderly lady lets out a worrying yelp as she’s carried off, all while the blue angel warns her to: “Hold on tight.” As the blue angel flies off with the old woman in her arms, he takes a quick birds eye view of the rest of the district; discovering hundreds of wild, untamed predators roaming the entire neighborhood. This realizing site makes Tore let out a worrying breath; the blue boy can’t help but wonder how both Cayenne and him can sort out this giant mess on their own.

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Sorry about this. This finale is taking a little longer to develop then I had hoped. But I swear the next chapter will be the last this season. I want to thank you all so much for stick by this long and hope that you've been enjoying the stories that I've been writing.

#lillaxtrigger #Young Hope

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pgoeltz · 5 years

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6 questions on Neoliberalism und alternatives

Noam Chomsky answers to Michael Albert’s questions

ZNetCommentary 30.9.2001

Michael Albert: I sent six questions to Noam Chomsky. His answers, by email, are below.

M.A.: (1) There has been an immense movement of troops and extreme use of military rhetoric, up to comments about terminating governments, etc. Yet, to many people there appears to be considerable restraint...what happened?

Noam Chomsky: From the first days after the attack, the Bush administration has been warned by NATO leaders, specialists on the region, and presumably its own intelligence agencies (not to speak of many people like you and me) that if they react with a massive assault that kills many innocent people, that will be answering bin Laden's most fervent prayers. They will be falling into a "diabolical trap," as the French foreign minister put it. That would be true -- perhaps even more so -- if they happen to kill bin Laden, still without having provided credible evidence of his involvement in the crimes of Sept. 11. He would then be perceived as a martyr even among the enormous majority of Muslims who deplore those crimes, as bin Laden himself has done, for what it is worth, denying any involvement in the crimes or even knowledge of them, and condemning "the killing of innocent women, children, and other humans" as an act that "Islam strictly forbids...even in the course of a battle" (BBC, Sept. 29). His voice will continue to resound on tens of thousands of cassettes already circulating throughout the Muslim world, and in many interviews, including the last few days. An assault that kills innocent Afghans -- not Taliban, but their terrorized victims -- would be virtually a call for new recruits to the horrendous cause of the bin Laden network and other graduates of the terrorist networks set up by the CIA and its associates 20 years ago to fight a Holy War against the Russians, meanwhile following their own agenda, from the time they assassinated President Sadat of Egypt in 1981, murdering one of the most enthusiastic of the creators of the "Afghanis" -- mostly recruits from extremist radical Islamist elements around the world who were recruited to fight in Afghanistan.

After a little while, the message apparently got through to the Bush administration, which has -- wisely from their point of view -- chosen to follow a different course.

However, "restraint" seems to me a questionable word. On Sept. 16, the New York Times reported that "Washington has also demanded [from Pakistan] a cutoff of fuel supplies,...and the elimination of truck convoys that provide much of the food and other supplies to Afghanistan's civilian population." Astonishingly, that report elicited no detectable reaction in the West, a grim reminder of the nature of the Western civilization that leaders and elite commentators claim to uphold, yet another lesson that is not lost among those who have been at the wrong end of the guns and whips for centuries. In the following days, those demands were implemented. On Sept. 27, the same NYT correspondent reported that officials in Pakistan "said today that they would not relent in their decision to seal off the country's 1,400- mile border with Afghanistan, a move requested by the Bush administration because, the officials said, they wanted to be sure that none of Mr. bin Laden's men were hiding among the huge tide of refugees" (John Burns, Islamabad). According to the world's leading newspaper, then, Washington demanded that Pakistan slaughter massive numbers of Afghans, millions of them already on the brink of starvation, by cutting off the limited sustenance that was keeping them alive. Almost all aid missions withdrew or were expelled under the threat of bombing. Huge numbers of miserable people have been fleeing to the borders in terror, after Washington's threat to bomb the shreds of existence remaining in Afghanistan, and to convert the Northern Alliance into a heavily armed military force that will, perhaps, be unleashed to renew the atrocities that tore the country apart and led much of the population to welcome the Taliban when they drove out the murderous warring factions that Washington and Moscow now hope to exploit for their own purposes. When they reach the sealed borders, refugees are trapped to die in silence. Only a trickle can escape through remote mountain passes. How many have already succumbed we cannot guess, and few seem to care. Apart from the relief agencies, I have seen no attempt even to guess. Within a few weeks the harsh winter will arrive. There are some reporters and aid workers in the refugee camps across the borders. What they describe is horrifying enough, but they know, and we know, that they are seeing the lucky ones, the few who were able to escape -- and who express their hopes that ''even the cruel Americans must feel some pity for our ruined country,'' and relent in this savage silent genocide (Boston Globe, Sept. 27, p. 1). Perhaps the most apt description was given by the wonderful and courageous Indian writer and activist Arundhati Roy, referring to Operation Infinite Justice proclaimed by the Bush Administration: "Witness the infinite justice of the new century. Civilians starving to death while they're waiting to be killed" (Guardian, Sept. 29).

M.A.: (2) The UN has indicated that the threat of starvation in Afghanistan is enormous. International criticism on this score has grown and now the U.S. and Britain are talking about providing food aid to ward off hunger. Are they caving in to dissent in fact, or only in appearance? What is their motivation? What will be the scale and impact of their efforts?

N. Ch.: The UN estimates that some 7-8 million are at risk of imminent starvation. The NY Times reports in a small item (Sept. 25) that nearly six million Afghans depend on food aid from the UN, as well as 3.5 million in refugee camps outside, many of whom fled just before the borders were sealed. The item reported that some food is being sent, to the camps across the border. If people in Washington and the editorial offices have even a single gray cell functioning, they realize that they must present themselves as humanitarians seeking to avert the awesome tragedy that followed at once from the threat of bombing and military attack and the sealing of the borders they demanded. "Experts also urge the United States to improve its image by increasing aid to Afghan refugees, as well as by helping to rebuild the economy" (Christian Science Monitor, Sept. 28). Even without PR specialists to instruct them, administration officials must comprehend that they should send some food to the refugees who made it across the border, and at least talk about air drop of food to starving people within: in order "to save lives" but also to "help the effort to find terror groups inside Afghanistan" (Boston Globe, Sept. 27, quoting a Pentagon official, who describes this as "winning the hearts and minds of the people"). The New York Times editors picked up the same theme the following day, 12 days after the journal reported that the murderous operation is being put into effect.

On the scale of aid, one can only hope that it is enormous, or the human tragedy may be immense in a few weeks. But we should also bear in mind that there has been nothing to stop massive food drops from the beginning, and we cannot even guess how many have already died, or soon will. If the government is sensible, there will be at least a show of the "massive air drops" that officials mention.

M.A.: (3) International legal institutions would likely ratify efforts to arrest and try bin Laden and others, supposing guilt could be shown, including the use of force. Why does the U.S. avoid this recourse? Is it only a matter of not wishing to legitimate an approach that could be used, as well, against our acts of terrorism, or are other factors at play?

N. Ch.: Much of the world has been asking the US to provide some evidence to link bin Laden to the crime, and if such evidence could be provided, it would not be difficult to rally enormous support for an international effort, under the rubric of the UN, to apprehend and try him and his collaborators. However, that is no simple matter. Even if bin Laden and his network are involved in the crimes of Sept. 11, it may be quite hard to produce credible evidence. As the CIA surely knows very well, having nurtured these organizations and monitored them very closely for 20 years, they are diffuse, decentralized, non-hierarchic structures, probably with little communication or direct guidance. And for all we know, most of the perpetrators may have killed themselves in their awful missions.

There are further problems in the background. To quote Roy again, "The Taliban's response to US demands for the extradition of Bin Laden has been uncharacteristically reasonable: produce the evidence, then we'll hand him over. President Bush's response is that the demand is non-negotiable'." She also adds one of the many reasons why this framework is unacceptable to Washington: "While talks are on for the extradition of CEOs can India put in a side request for the extradition of Warren Anderson of the US? He was the chairman of Union Carbide, responsible for the Bhopal gas leak that killed 16,000 people in 1984. We have collated the necessary evidence. It's all in the files. Could we have him, please?" Such comparisons elicit frenzied tantrums at the extremist fringes of Western opinion, some of them called "the left." But for Westerners who have retained their sanity and moral integrity, and for great numbers among the usual victims, they are quite meaningful. Government leaders presumably understand that.

And the single example that Roy mentions is only the beginning, of course, and one of the lesser examples, not only because of the scale of the atrocity, but because it was not explicitly a crime of state. Suppose Iran were to request the extradition of high officials of the Carter and Reagan administrations, refusing to present the ample evidence of the crimes they were implementing -- and it surely exists. Or suppose Nicaragua were to demand the extradition of the US ambassador to the UN, newly appointed to lead the "war against terror," a man whose record includes his service as "proconsul" (as he was often called) in the virtual fiefdom of Honduras, where he surely was aware of the atrocities of the state terrorists he was supporting, and was also overseeing the terrorist war for which the US was condemned by the World Court and the Security Council (in a resolution the US vetoed). Or many others. Would the US even dream of responding to such demands presented without evidence, or even if the ample evidence were presented?

Those doors are better left closed, just as it is best to maintain the silence on the appointment of a leading figure in managing the operations condemned as terrorism by the highest existing international bodies -- to lead a "war on terrorism." Jonathan Swift would also be speechless.

That may be the reason why administration publicity experts preferred the usefully ambiguous term "war" to the more explicit term "crime" -- "crime against humanity as Robert Fisk, Mary Robinson, and others have accurately depicted it. There are established procedures for dealing with crimes, however horrendous. They require evidence, and adherence to the principle that "those who are guilty of these acts" be held accountable once evidence is produced, but not others (Pope John Paul II, NYT Sept. 24). Not, for example, the unknown numbers of miserable people starving to death in terror at the sealed borders, though in this case too we are speaking of crimes against humanity.

M. A.: (4) The war on terror was first undertaken by Reagan, as a substitute for the cold war -- that is, as a vehicle for scaring the public and thus marshalling support for programs contrary to the public's interest -- foreign campaigns, war spending in general, surveillance, and so on. Now we are seeing a larger and more aggressive attempt to move in the same direction. Does the problem that we are the world's foremost source of attacks on civilians auger complications for carrying through this effort? Can the effort be sustained without, in fact, a shooting war?

N. Ch.: The Reagan administration came into office 20 years ago declaring that its leading concern would be to eradicate the plague of international terrorism, a cancer that is destroying civilization. They cured the plague by establishing an international terrorist network of extraordinary scale, with consequences that are -- or should be -- well-known in Central America, the Middle East, Africa, Southeast Asia, and elsewhere -- while using the pretexts, as you say, to carry out programs that were of considerable harm to the domestic population, and that even threaten human survival. Did they carry out a "shooting war"? The number of corpses they left in their wake around the world is impressive, but technically, they did not usually fire the guns, apart from transparent PR exercises like the bombing of Libya, the first crime of war in history that was timed precisely for prime time TV, no small trick considering the complexity of the operation and the refusal of continental European countries to collaborate. The torture, mutilation, rape, and massacre were carried out through intermediaries.

Even if we exclude the huge but unmentionable component of terrorism that traces back to terrorist states, our own surely included, the terrorist plague is very real, very dangerous, and truly terrifying. There are ways to react that are likely to escalate the threats to ourselves and others; there are ample precedents for more sane and honorable methods, which we've discussed before, and are not in the least obscure, but are scarcely discussed. Those are the basic choices.

M. A.: (5) If the Taliban falls and bin Laden or someone they claim is responsible is captured or killed, what next? What happens to Afghanistan? What happens more broadly in other regions?

N. Ch.: The sensible administration plan would be to pursue the ongoing program of silent genocide, combined with humanitarian gestures to arouse the applause of the usual chorus who are called upon to sing the praises of the noble leaders committed to "principles and values" and leading the world to a "new era" of "ending inhumanity." The administration might also try to convert the Northern Alliance into a viable force, perhaps to bring in other warlords hostile to it, like Gulbudin Hekmatyar, now in Iran. Presumably they will use British and US commandoes for missions within Afghanistan, and perhaps resort to selective bombing, but scaled down so as not to answer bin Laden's prayers. A US assault should not be compared to the failed Russian invasion of the 80s. The Russians were facing a major army of perhaps 100,000 men or more, organized, trained and heavily armed by the CIA and its associates. The US is facing a ragtag force in a country that has already been virtually destroyed by 20 years of horror, for which we bear no slight share of responsibility. The Taliban forces, such as they are, might quickly collapse except for a small hard core. And one would expect that the surviving population would welcome an invading force if it is not too visibly associated with the murderous gangs that tore the country to shreds before the Taliban takeover. At this point, most people would be likely to welcome Genghis Khan.

What next? Expatriate Afghans and, apparently, some internal elements who are not part of the Taliban inner circle have been calling for a UN effort to establish some kind of transition government, a process that might succeed in reconstructing something viable from the wreckage, if provided with very substantial reconstruction aid, channeled through independent sources like the UN or credible NGOs. That much should be the minimal responsibility of those who have turned this impoverished country into a land of terror, desperation, corpses, and mutilated victims. That could happen, but not without very substantial popular efforts in the rich and powerful societies. For the present, any such course has been ruled out by the Bush administration, which has announced that it will not be engaged in "nation building" -- or, it seems, an effort that would be more honorable and humane: substantial support, without interference, for "nation building" by others who might actually achieve some success in the enterprise. But current refusal to consider this decent course is not graven in stone. What happens in other regions depends on internal factors, on the policies of foreign actors (the US dominant among them, for obvious reasons), and the way matters proceed in Afghanistan. One can hardly be confident, but for many of the possible courses reasonable assessments can be made about the outcome -- and there are a great many possibilities, too many to try to review in brief comments.

M. A.: (6) What do you believe should be the role and priority of social activists concerned about justice at this time? Should we curb our criticisms, as some have claimed, or is this, instead, a time for renewed and enlarged efforts, not only because it is a crisis regarding which we can attempt to have a very important positive impact, but also because large sectors of the public are actually far more receptive than usual to discussion and exploration, even it other sectors are intransigently hostile?

N. Ch.: It depends on what these social activists are trying to achieve. If their goal is to escalate the cycle of violence and to increase the likelihood of further atrocities like that of Sept. 11 -- and, regrettably, even worse ones with which much of the world is all too familiar -- then they should certainly curb their analysis and criticisms, refuse to think, and cut back their involvement in the very serious issues in which they have been engaged. The same advice is warranted if they want to help the most reactionary and regressive elements of the political-economic power system to implement plans that will be of great harm to the general population here and in much of the world, and may even threaten human survival.

If, on the contrary, the goal of social activists is to reduce the likelihood of further atrocities, and to advance hopes for freedom, human rights, and democracy, then they should follow the opposite course. They should intensify their efforts to inquire into the background factors that lie behind these and other crimes and devote themselves with even more energy to the just causes to which they have already been committed. The opportunities are surely there. The shock of the horrendous crimes has already opened even elite sectors to reflection of a kind that would have been hard to imagine not long ago, and among the general public that is even more true. Of course, there will be those who demand silent obedience. We expect that from the ultra-right, and anyone with a little familiarity with history will expect it from some left intellectuals as well, perhaps in an even more virulent form. But it is important not to be intimidated by hysterical ranting and lies and to keep as closely as one can to the course of truth and honesty and concern for the human consequences of what one does, or fails to do. All truisms, but worth bearing in mind.

Beyond the truisms, we turn to specific questions, for inquiry and for action.

From ZNet: http://www.zmag.org/55qaframe.htm

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How Many Republicans Need To Vote For Impeachment

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/how-many-republicans-need-to-vote-for-impeachment/

How Many Republicans Need To Vote For Impeachment

Ten Republicans Joined Democrats In Impeaching Trump A Historic Second Time A Move That Was Quickly Met With Condemnation Back In Their Home States Theyve Been Publicly Scolded Pushed To Resign And Warned That Local Organizations Will Mount A Strong Push To Oust Them From Office In The Primary

“After my last election, I had decided not to run again. But the vote by Congressman Valadao to impeach President Trump with no witnesses, evidence, or without allowing any defense was too much for me to stay on the sidelines,” Chris Mathys, a former Fresno, California, city council member, told Newsweek.

Valadao, who represents California’s 21st district, wasn’t in office during Trump’s first impeachment, as he had been ousted from office in 2018 by Democrat TJ Coxx. In November, Valadao won back his seat from the Democrat who beat him in 2018 by less than a point. The Republican placed blame on Trump for the Capitol riot, saying that his rhetoric was “un-American, abhorrent and absolutely an impeachable offense.”

That vote in favor of impeaching Trump “violated the trust” of the millions of Americans that voted for Trump in the November election, according to Mathys, who unsuccessfully sought a seat in New Mexico’s House during the 2020 primary. The decision was “so egregious,” that Mathys doesn’t think voters will forget it.

Whit Ayer, a GOP strategist, told Newsweek it was a “very gutsy” decision to vote in favor of impeachment because they “knew they would likely draw challenges.” However, it remains to be seen how much the impeachment will play in the 2022 primary and one of the factors that is still up in the air is how much of a political powerhouse Trump will be in 18 months.

While The Majority Of Republican Senators Sided With Trump And Backed His Acquittal Seven Republican Senators Joined The Democrats And Voted To Convict The Republican Former President On The Single Charge

Reuters

Donald Trump was acquitted in his impeachment trialon Saturday on a charge of inciting insurrection in a Jan. 6 speech to supporters just before hundreds of them stormed the US Capitol.

While the majority of Republican senators sided with Trumpand backed his acquittal, seven Republican senators joined the Democrats and voted to convict the Republican former president on the single charge. One of them, Richard Burr, had previously voted that the proceeding was unconstitutional because Trump left office on Jan. 20, a motion rejected by the Senate.

RICHARD BURR

https://images.indianexpress.com/2020/08/1×1.png

Burr said while running for office in 2016 that he would not seek re-election in 2022. The senator from North Carolina had already been unpopular with Trump’s allies for his work heading the Senate Intelligence Committee, which had probed Russian meddling in the 2016 U.S. election. Trump had opposed the investigation.

BILL CASSIDY

The senator from Louisiana on Tuesday joined five Republican colleagues in voting that the proceeding was constitutional, reversing his stance from an earlier vote on the issue. Cassidy told reporters after the House impeachment managers presented on Tuesday that they had “a very good opening.”

BEN SASSE

PAT TOOMEY

SUSAN COLLINS

The Maine centrist was the only Republican senator re-elected in 2020 in a state also won by Biden. She said Trump had incited the Jan. 6 riot.

Tags:

Mcconnell Says House Prosecutors Proved Trump Incited Attack On Capitol Though He Voted To Acquit Because Trump Is No Longer In Office

9:10 AM on Feb 13, 2021 CST — Updated at 5:12 PM on Feb 13, 2021 CST

WASHINGTON — Donald Trump’s historic second impeachment trial ended Saturday with acquittal on a 57-43 vote, with seven Republicans and all Democrats voting that the former president incited insurrection.

Though 10 votes shy of the two-thirds needed, it was the most bipartisan vote for conviction in any of the four presidential trials in U.S. history and, by far, the shortest.

Democrats insisted the trial would leave an indelible mark on Trump’s legacy. The 45th president is the only U.S. president impeached and acquitted twice.

“He has been discredited in the eyes of the American people and in the judgment of history,” said Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer, a New York Democrat.

Texas Sens. John Cornyn and Ted Cruz voted for acquittal.

The Republicans who voted to convict were Sens. Richard Burr of North Carolina, Bill Cassidy of Louisiana, Susan Collins of Maine, Lisa Murkowski of Alaska, Mitt Romney of Utah, Ben Sasse of Nebraska and Pat Toomey of Pennsylvania.

One year and one week ago, at Trump’s first trial, Romney had been the only Republican voting to convict and remove him from office on a charge of abuse of power.

“President Trump is practically and morally responsible for provoking the events of the day. No question about it,” McConnell said, accusing Trump of peddling a “wild myth” that he had won the election and engaging in “unconscionable” behavior before and during the Jan. 6 attack.

Congresswoman Backs Claim That Trump Told Mccarthy Well I Guess These People Are More Upset About The Election Than You Are

Congresswoman Jaime Herrera Beutler issued a statement late Friday backing reports that House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy had reached President Trump by phone on January 6.

According to Herrera Beutler, McCarthy told her that when he spoke to Mr. Trump that day and asked him to “publicly and forcefully” call off the Capitol assault, “the president initially repeated the falsehood that it was antifa that had breached the Capitol.”

“McCarthy refuted that and told the president that these were Trump supporters,” Beutler’s statement said. “That’s when, according to McCarthy, the president said: ‘Well, Kevin, I guess these people are more upset about the election than you are.'”

Herrera Beutler, a Republican from Washington, was one of 10 House Republicans who voted to impeach Mr. Trump. She referenced the call in her statement of support of impeachment.

A Majority Vote In The House Is Needed To Impeach Trump But 20 Republican Senators Will Need To Join A Vote To Remove Him

GettyTrump at the Social Media Summit

Impeachment proceedings are more complicated than they might sound. If you recall, in former President Bill Clinton’s administration, there were enough votes to impeach him but there were not enough votes to convict and remove him. This could happen again with President Donald Trump. You can read all the laws on impeachment proceedings here.

A simple majority vote is needed in the House to impeach Trump. This might not be difficult since the Democrats have a majority in the House.

If all 435 House members vote, they would need 218 votes for a majority to be reached and for Trump to be impeached. There are 235 Democrats in office in the House, one Independent, and 199 Republicans, Reuters explained.

So getting a majority of Democrats wouldn’t be difficult, since a majority of House Democrats already supported impeachment earlier this year. But even with an impeachment vote, Trump would still not be removed from office.

With a majority vote in the House, articles of impeachment would be approved that lay out all the impeachable offenses. Treason and bribery qualify as crimes warranting impeachment, as do “other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.”

But this is not all that is needed to remove a sitting President. They would then need 2/3 majority of the Senate’s 100 members to vote to for the President to be removed from office. That means a total of 67 Senators would need to vote to convict and remove the President.

Most Republicans Who Voted To Convict Aren’t Up For Reelection Until At Least 2024 Or Aren’t Running For Reelection

Most of the Republicans who voted to convict Mr. Trump are not up for reelection until at least 2024, or are not running for reelection.

Senator Lisa Murkowski of Alaska is the only Republican who voted to convict Mr. Trump who is also up for reelection in 2022.

Senator Richard Burr isn’t running for reelection. Senator Bill Cassidy isn’t up for reelection until 2026. Susan Collins is up for reelection in 2026. Mitt Romney isn’t up for reelection until 2024. Ben Sasse isn’t up for reelection until 2026. Senator Pat Toomey isn’t running for reelection.

While Most Republicans Are Likely To Vote To Acquit The Former President A Handful Of Votes Appear To Be In Play

@Rubinations

Former President Donald Trump’s impeachment trial on a charge of inciting the riot at the Capitol Jan. 6 begins with the battle lines clearly drawn. The partisan math makes it unlikely there will be the 67 votes necessary for a conviction. But at least a handful of Republican senators do appear to be in play to join what will likely be all the Democrats in voting to convict.

Forty-four of the Senate’s 50 Republicans voted Tuesday that the trial was unconstitutional because Mr. Trump has left office. Most legal experts disagree with that argument, but it was embraced by both the Trump defense team and even senators who believe he bears some responsibility for the riot, like Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell. Here are the most important Republican senators to watch during the second Trump impeachment trial.

Sen. Mitt Romney

Sen. Susan Collins

Ms. Collins has long held Trump at arm’s-length, especially when running successfully for a fifth term last year. Ms. Collins frequently falls back on a refrain that as a juror she can’t comment on impeachment proceedings until she gets to hear from the prosecution and the defense, but she has sharply criticized Trump’s conduct. “He incited them in the first place” and later failed to quell the violence by his supporters “by repeating his grievances and telling the rioters that he knew how they felt,” she wrote in a first-person account of Jan. 6 for the Bangor Daily News.

Sen. Lisa Murkowski

The 7 Republican Senators Who Voted To Convict Former President Donald Trump Explain Their Rationale

Donald Trump’s second impeachment trial came to an end Saturday with 57 senators voting to convict, falling short of the two-thirds margin required to find him guilty of the charge of “incitement of insurrection” in connection with the Jan. 6 riot at the U.S. Capitol that resulted in five deaths. Seven GOP senators broke with their party — voting along with all 48 Democrats and both independents in the body.

After the 57-43 vote, the Republicans who defied Trump explained their decision.

Richard Burr, North Carolina

“The facts are clear,” Burr said in a statement after the vote. “The President promoted unfounded conspiracy theories to cast doubt on the integrity of a free and fair election because he did not like the results. As Congress met to certify the election results, the President directed his supporters to go to the Capitol to disrupt the lawful proceedings required by the Constitution. When the crowd became violent, the President used his office to first inflame the situation instead of immediately calling for an end to the assault.”

Burr originally voted that the trial was unconstitutional, but said in his statement that “the Senate is an institution based on precedent, and given that the majority of the Senate voted to proceed with this trial, the question of constitutionality is now established precedent.”

He has already announced he will not be running for reelection in 2022.

Bill Cassidy, Louisiana

Lisa Murkowski, Alaska

Mitt Romney, Utah

Liz Cheney John Katko And Dan Newhouse Among 10 House Republicans Who Voted In Favour Of Motion

The U.S. House of Representatives voted to impeach President Donald Trump a second time on Wednesday. The House voted 232-197 in favour of an unprecedented second impeachment just one week after the violence at the U.S. Capitol.

Those 232 votes were cast in favour of the bill by 222 Democrats — along with 10 Republicans, members of Trump’s own party.

The Republicans include:

The Seven Republican Senators Who Voted To Impeach Trump Say It Was Their Constitutional Duty

On Feb. 13, 2021, seven Republican senators voted to convict former president Donald Trump for his involvement in the Capitol riots on Jan. 6, 2021. but 17 were needed to find Trump guilty to meet the two-thirds majority rule.

All seven Republicans that crossed party lines to vote alongside the Democrats faced criticism from voters and other factions within the party, according to CNBC—but who are they and how will the decision affect them?

Senator Richard Burr of North Carolina

Senator Burr first began his Congressional career in 2004 when he won North Carolina’s Republican Primary. He has now served in the Senate for nearly two decades but is facing censorship from the GOP as a result of his defiant stance in the impeachment trials.

Censorship is a formal statement of disapproval from the state’s party, therefore it has no direct repercussions such as removal from office but it can have lasting effects on the senator’s reputation, thus affecting his or her chances of being reelected. Senator Burr, however, will not be running next year, though there are no reports of the censorship having any influence on this decision.

In his trial statement, Senator Burr asserted Trump was responsible for the events that took place at the Capitol, stating, “The evidence is compelling that President Trump is guilty of inciting an insurrection against a coequal branch of government…”

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Senator Bill Cassidy of Louisiana

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Senator Susan Collins of Maine

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Sure Parties Dump Their Prime Ministers But They Rarely Throw Out Their Presidents Heres Why

The House may well vote to impeach President Trump. What remains uncertain is whether the Senate will remove him. Senate Republicans hold 53 seats, and removal requires two-thirds of senators voting, or 67 votes to convict if all 100 senators vote.

arrow-right

If all 45 Democrats and the two independents vote to convict, 20 Republicans would have to switch sides to vote against the president. Is that possible?

The Senate has conducted only two presidential impeachment trials in its history, giving us not much to go on. But impeachment attempts around the world can teach us a lot about what’s likely to happen here.

Republicans Voted To Impeach Trump 7 Already Facing Challenges For Their Seats In Congress

The RINO Republicans who betrayed President Trump and his voters must have no place in the Republican Party. They must all be primaried and replaced with strong pr0-Trump candidates for the 2022 midterm elections. Don’t start a new party and split our vote. Primary the fake Republicans.

Related –Lewandowski creates new PAC to back Republican supporters of pro-Trump agenda

Trump Senate Republicans No Chief Justice: What To Watch For During The Impeachment Trial

Sahil Kapur

WASHINGTON — The impeachment trial of former President Donald Trump begins this week, returning the recently departed leader to the limelight.

As in his first impeachment trial a year ago, it will be difficult for Democrats to muster the two-thirds Senate majority required to convict him. But the trial is still expected to absorb the nation’s attention.

The case rests on a single charge approved by the Democratic-led House, with the support of 10 Republicans: that Trump incited the deadly Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol.

Even though Trump was defeated for re-election last year, the stakes of the trial are high for the country and for a Republican Party that is tethered to him as long as he remains popular among its core voters and has the option to run for president again.

As of Sunday evening, the structure of the trial and possible witnesses hadn’t yet been announced.

Here are five things to watch for when it begins:

Who Are The 7 Republican Senators That Voted To Convict Trump In Second Impeachment Trial

WASHINGTON — Seven Republicans voted Saturday to convict former President Donald Trump in his Senate impeachment trial, easily the largest number of lawmakers to ever vote to find a president of their own party guilty at impeachment proceedings.

While lawmakers voted 57-43 to find Trump guilty, the evenly divided Senate fell well short of the two-thirds majority required to convict an impeached president, acquitting Trump of inciting an insurrection for riling up a crowd of his supporters before they attacked the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6.

Voting to find Trump guilty were GOP Sens. Richard Burr of North Carolina, Bill Cassidy of Louisiana, Susan Collins of Maine, Lisa Murkowski of Alaska, Mitt Romney of Utah, Ben Sasse of Nebraska and Patrick Toomey of Pennsylvania.

Susan Collins

The Maine centrist was the only Republican senator re-elected in 2020 in a state also won by Biden. She said Trump had incited the Jan. 6 riot.

“President Trump — subordinating the interests of the country to his own selfish interests — bears significant responsibility for the invasion of the Capitol,” Collins said on the Senate floor shortly after Former President Donald Trump’s acquittal.

LISA MURKOWSKI

The Trump legal team responded to Cassidy’s question by saying, “Directly no, but I dispute the premise of your facts.”

RICHARD BURR

BEN SASSE

Of The 10 Republicans Who Voted To Impeach Trump 7 Are Already Facing Primary Challenges

Seven out of the 10 Republican lawmakers who voted in favor of impeaching former President Donald Trump are already facing primary challenges for their congressional seats.

Newsweek indicates that the pro-impeachment GOPers have “been publicly scolded, pushed to resign and warned that local organizations will mount a strong push to oust them from office in the primary.”

The report profiles primary challenges already forming for Reps. David Valadao , Liz Cheney , Adam Kinzinger , Dan Newhouse , and Anthony Gonzalez .

They add, “Another Republican has created an exploratory committee in a potential bid for Representative Tom Rice’s seat and local GOP organizations have vowed to recruit someone to go after Representative Jamie Herrera Buetler’s spot in Congress.”

10 Republicans voted to impeach Trump, 7 already facing challenges for their seats in Congress https://t.co/QCnmJA06dl

NewsTrump impeachmentRepublicansLisa MurkowskiSusan Collins

Seven Republican senators voted alongside 50 members of the Democratic caucus to convict former President Donald Trump on Saturday.

The final tally of 57-43 fell short of the 67 votes needed to convict Trump on the House impeachment charge of inciting the January 6 insurrection against the U.S. Capitol. However, the count total has been touted as the most bipartisan impeachment vote in U.S. history. Trump’s acquittal marks the end of a five-day impeachment trial.

Here’s how they explained their decisions this weekend.

Lisa Murkowski of Alaska

Schiff Says He Hopes Vote To Consider Witnesses Will Inspire Republicans To Come Forward

Congressman Adam Schiff, a Democrat from California who was the lead impeachment manager during the first impeachment proceedings involving Mr. Trump, said he hopes more Republicans who have information about the former president’s conduct on January 6 come forward and make themselves available to testify.

In an interview with CBS News, Schiff recalled a similar occurrence in last year’s proceeding, where a witness came forward after watching the hearings in the House to provide relevant information.

“That could very well happen here,” he said.

The California Democrat said calling new witnesses “opens the door for discovery of new information.”

Schiff also said Congresswoman Jaime Herrera Beutler, who the House managers said they want to subpoena, would be a “low-risk” witness for the Democrats, but warned House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy could present more challenges.

Schiff cited McCarthy’s recent trip to Florida, during which he met with Mr. Trump at Mar-a-Lago and discussed Republicans regaining the House majority in 2022, and said McCarthy made it clear the GOP is relying on the president to help deliver them victories in the next election.

“Is that the kind of witness with those kinds of incentives that you want to rely on to be candid?” he said. “And I don’t think that McCarthy has a reputation for candor, so that’s very risky. Whether he will dispute the account of Congresswoman Beutler or add other things to the conversation, you just don’t know.”

House Republicans Face Some Backlash Over Vote To Impeach Sounding A Warning To Senators

January 28, 2021 / 7:01 AM / CBS News

Republicans divided in post-Trump era06:18

In his first phone town hall since voting to impeach former President Trump, a voter told South Carolina Congressman Tom Rice his decision was “inexcusable.”

“Next time around, I don’t think you’re going to get elected,” said his Myrtle Beach constituent, from the district Rice has represented since 2013. “I’m not happy with you. And I certainly won’t vote for you again. So if you can figure out some way to redeem yourself, I’m all ears.”

But the next caller, an 80-year-old woman, commended Rice for the “tremendous courage” he showed by voting for impeachment.

“If you want a Congressman that is going to bow down to bullies… that’ll go along with the crowd, ‘Oh, everybody else on this side voted this way, so I better vote that way so people back home don’t question me — if that’s the guy you want, then I’m not your guy,” Rice said.

“But if you want somebody who’s gonna stand up for what’s right, and protect our Constitution like I took an oath to do, then I am your guy.”

For Rice and the nine other House Republicans who voted for impeachment, Mr. Trump’s rally speech before the attack at the Capitol and his long silence as rioters breached the building was reason enough to join Democrats in impeaching the president a second time.

But their decision was met with an immediate backlash from many constituents, local parties and their Republican colleagues.

Rebecca Kaplan contributed reporting.

All But 5 Republicans Vote To Dismiss Trump Impeachment Trial On Constitutional Grounds

All but five U.S. Senate Republicans voted in favour of an effort to dismiss Donald Trump’s historic second impeachment trial on Tuesday, making clear a conviction of the former president for “incitement of insurrection” after the deadly Capitol siege on Jan. 6 is unlikely.

While the Republicans did not succeed in ending the trial before it began, the test vote made clear that Trump still has enormous sway over his party as he becomes the first former president to be tried for impeachment. Many Republicans have criticized Trump’s role in the attack — before which he told his supporters to “fight like hell” to overturn his defeat — but most of them have rushed to defend him in the trial.

“I think this was indicative of where a lot of people’s heads are,” said South Dakota Sen. John Thune, the No. 2 Republican in the Senate, after the vote.

Read more: Democrats deliver Trump impeachment article to U.S. Senate

Late Tuesday, the presiding officer at the trial, Sen. Patrick Leahy, D-Vt., was taken to the hospital for observation after not feeling well at his office, spokesman David Carle said in a statement. The 80-year-old senator was examined by the Capitol’s attending physician, who recommended he be taken to the hospital out of an abundance of caution, he said.

The vote means the trial on Trump’s impeachment will begin as scheduled the week of Feb. 8. The House impeached him Jan. 13, just a week after the deadly insurrection in which five people died.

Raskin Ends Democrats’ Closing Arguments: Godspeed To The Senate Of The United States

House impeachment manager Jamie Raskin concluded with a personal anecdote, recalling a conversation he had with his daughter, Hannah, who sympathized with the children of the rioters who mounted the assault on the Capitol and also may not have returned home to their families. His daughter, Raskin said, cut through the politics and legality of the situation, and saw “all the way to the humanity of the situation, the morality of the situation.”

“We must recognize and exercise these crimes against our nation and then we must take care of our people and our children, their hearts and their minds,” he said.

Raskin implored senators to vote according to the truth and questioned whether members would do more to defend the law enforcement officers who protected them January 6 and endured violence and racist slurs, beyond giving them medals.

“Is this America? Is this what we want to bequeath to our children and our grandchildren?” he said.

Raskin said that regardless of whether senators came to Washington to work on defense or agriculture, for example, their vote on impeachment is how they will be remembered.

“That might not be fair, it really might not be fair, but none of us can escape the demands of history and destiny right now,” he said.

Raskin concluded the Democrats’ closing arguments by citing Thomas Paine, for whom his late son, Thomas Raskin, was named after.

Raskin Says They Want To Subpoena Congresswoman Who Recalled Mccarthy Call With Trump

Lead House impeachment manager Jamie Raskin said he wants the Senate to subpoena Congresswoman Jaime Herrera Beutler, who confirmed in a statement Friday night that McCarthy urged the president to call off the riot on January 6, Mr. Trump balked and backed the rioters.

“Well, Kevin, I guess these people are more upset about the election than you are,” he said, according to the congresswoman’s account of what the minority leader told her.

In her statement, Herrera Beutler also urged others who know more to come forward.

Raskin said he wants the Senate to subpoena the congresswoman and her contemporaneous notes.

“We believe we’ve proven our case,” Raskin said, before adding that he would like to hear from Herrera Beutler.

—Grace Segers and Kathryn Watson

https://www.cbsnews.com/live-updates/trump-impeachment-trial-senate-acquittal/#post-update-e2d41ce9

What Does An Impeachment Vote Mean For A Sitting President And For A Former President

A president can continue governing even after he or she has been impeached by the House of Representatives.

Trump continued to govern after his impeachment in December 2019, and of course, ran for reelection in 2020. After Clinton was impeached on Dec. 19, 1998, he finished out his second term, which ended in January 2001, during which time he was acquitted in a Senate impeachment trial. While Clinton continued governing, and the impeachment had no legal or official impact, his legacy is marred by the proceeding.

Gop Leader Mccarthy: Trump ‘bears Responsibility’ For Violence Won’t Vote To Impeach

Some ambitious Republican senators have never been as on board the Trump train as the more feverish GOP members in the House, and the former might be open to convicting Trump. But their ambition cuts two ways — on the one hand, voting to ban Trump opens a lane to carry the Republican mantle in 2024 and be the party’s new standard-bearer, but, on the other, it has the potential to alienate many of the 74 million who voted for Trump, and whose votes they need.

It’s a long shot that Trump would ultimately be convicted, because 17 Republicans would need to join Democrats to get the two-thirds majority needed for a conviction. But it’s growing clearer that a majority of the Senate will vote to convict him, reflecting the number of Americans who are in favor of impeachment, disapproved of the job Trump has done and voted for his opponent in the 2020 presidential election.

Correction Jan. 14, 2021

A previous version of this story incorrectly said Rep. Peter Meijer is a West Point graduate. Meijer attended West Point, but he is a graduate of Columbia University.

Republicans Who Voted To Acquit Trump Used Questions Of Constitutionality As A Cover

Following the vote, McConnell gave a scathing speech condemning Trump’s lies about election fraud as well as his actions on January 6, only moments after he supported acquittal.

That speech was emblematic of how many Republican senators approached the impeachment vote: Although GOP lawmakers were critical of the attack on January 6, they used a process argument about constitutionality in order to evade confronting Trump on his actual actions.

Effectively, because Trump is no longer in office, Republicans say the Senate doesn’t have jurisdiction to convict him of the article of impeachment. As Vox’s Ian Millhiser explained, there’s some debate over that, but most legal scholars maintain that it is constitutional for the Senate to try a former president.

“If President Trump were still in office, I would have carefully considered whether the House managers proved their specific charge,” McConnell said. McConnell, however, played an integral role in delaying the start of the trial until after Trump was no longer president.

His statement on Saturday was simply a continuation of how Republicans had previously approached Trump’s presidency: There’s been an overwhelming hesitation to hold him accountable while he was in office, and that still appears to be the case for many lawmakers.

Mccarthy Appoints 0 Republicans Who Voted To Impeach Trump To Capitol Riot Committee

U.S.Donald TrumpKevin McCarthyCapitol Riots

Of the six Republicans who were selected to be part of Speaker Nancy Pelosi‘s special committee to investigate the Capitol riot, only one voted to impeach former President Donald Trump for his involvement.

The January 6 Capitol riot drove a wedge in the Republican Party, largely in part because of the divide between members over whether Trump was accountable. Frustrated with Republicans blocking the formation of an independent commission, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi announced the creation of a select committee to investigate the Capitol riot on Thursday.

In announcing the committee, Pelosi said she hoped that House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy would appoint “responsible people” to represent Republicans on the committee.

The House minority leader kept his picks close to the chest and hedged on whether he’d even make appointments, days before announcing who he would choose. McCarthy hopes to have Representatives Jim Banks, Jim Jordan, Rodney Davis, Kelly Armstrong and Troy Nehls representing the Republican side.

However, it’s not clear, yet, if any of those Republicans will serve on the committee. Pelosi has the final say as to who gets to be on the committee and some were pushing her to veto Jordan because of his support of Trump’s election fraud claims.

Nancy Pelosi to Create Committee Investigating Capitol Riot

Mcconnell Excoriates Trump While Still Arguing That Impeachment Was Unconstitutional

McConnell denounces Trump after acquittal20:31

In a speech whose first half was reminiscent of the arguments made by House impeachment managers, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell excoriated Mr. Trump and said he was “practically and morally responsible” for the attack on the Capitol on January 6. However, McConnell argued that he believed it was unconstitutional to convict a president who was no longer in office.

“President Trump is practically and morally responsible for the moments provoked that day,” McConnell said, blaming Mr. Trump for the “mob assaulting the Capitol in his name.” “These criminals were carrying his banners. Hanging his flags. And screaming their loyalty to him.”

He said the Capitol assault “was a foreseeable consequence of the growing crescendo of false statements, conspiracy theories and reckless hyperbole which the defeated president kept shouting into the largest megaphone on planet earth.”

But McConnell argued that the former president “is constitutionally not eligible for conviction” — even though the Senate voted 56-44 earlier this week that it was constitutionally possible to convict a former official.

“I believe the Senate was right not to grab power the Constitution doesn’t give us,” McConnell said.

The trial, which began on February 9, lasted only five days.

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creeping-shadow-heralds-storms · 4 years

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Last year, Anjanette Young filed a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request for the video to show the public what happened to her that day. CBS 2 also filed a request for the video. But the Chicago Police Department denied the requests.

Young recently obtained the footage after a court forced CPD to turn it over as part of her lawsuit against police.

“I feel like they didn’t want us to have this video because they knew how bad it was,” Young said. “They knew they had done something wrong. They knew that the way they treated me was not right.”

Hours before the TV version of this report broadcast, the city’s lawyers attempted to stop CBS 2 from airing the video by filing an emergency motion in federal court.

The video reveals on Feb. 21, 2019, nine body cameras rolled as a group of male officers entered her home at 7 p.m. Not long before, the licensed social worker finished her shift at the hospital and had undressed in her bedroom.

That’s when she said she heard a loud, pounding noise.

Outside, officers repeatedly struck her door with a battering ram. From various angles, the video captured the moments they broke down the door and burst through her home.

“It was so traumatic to hear the thing that was hitting the door,” Young said, as she watched the video. “And it happened so fast, I didn’t have time to put on clothes.”

As they rushed inside with guns drawn, officers yelled, “Police search warrant,” and “Hands up, hands up, hands up.” Seconds later, Young could be seen in the living room, shocked and completely naked, with her hands up.

Young looked terrified and confused as she watched officers search the home. An officer put her hands behind her back and handcuffed her as she stood naked.

“What is going on?” Young yelled in the video. “There’s nobody else here, I live alone. I mean, what is going on here? You’ve got the wrong house. I live alone.”

“It’s one of those moments where I felt I could have died that night,” she said. “Like if I would have made one wrong move, it felt like they would have shot me. I truly believe they would have shot me.”

Using body camera video and police and court records, CBS 2 pieced together – moment by moment – not only how Young was treated during the raid, but also how police failed to check the bad tip that led them there.

Young recently agreed to an interview to discuss the body camera video after she first spoke to CBS 2 last year. CBS 2 blurred portions of the video in which Young was unclothed.

With her hands bound behind her back, the video shows an officer wrapped a short coat around her shoulders. But the coat only covered her shoulders and upper back – leaving her front completely exposed as she stood against the wall. Officers stood around her home – in the kitchen, the living room and the hallways – while she remained naked.

“It felt like forever to me,” she said. “It felt like forever.”

About two minutes after police entered the home, an officer found a blanket and wrapped it around Young as she sobbed and repeatedly asked officers who they were looking for.

“They just threw something over me, and my hands are behind me and I’m handcuffed,” Young said in an interview. “So there’s no way for me to secure the blanket around me.”

The blanket continued to slide open and expose her body. One video clip shows an officer stood in front of Young but made no attempt to cover her. Another officer walked over and held the blanket closed.

Young continued to beg police for answers.

Young told police at least 43 times they were in the wrong home. She repeatedly asked them to allow her to get dressed and told them she believed they had bad information.

“Oh my God, this cannot be right,” Young said during the raid. “How is this legal?”

Police did have bad information, CBS 2 Investigators uncovered, and they failed to do basic checks to confirm whether they had the correct address before getting the search warrant approved.

According to CPD’s complaint for search warrant, one day before the raid, a confidential informant told the affiant – or lead officer on the raid – that he recently saw a 23-year-old man who was a known felon with gun and ammunition.

The document said the officer found a photo of the suspect in a police database and showed it to the informant, who confirmed it was him. The officer then drove the informant to the address where the informant claimed the suspect lived.

Despite no evidence in the complaint that police made efforts to independently verify the informant’s tip, such as conducting any surveillance or additional checks as required by policy, the search warrant was approved by an assistant state’s attorney and a judge.

But CBS 2 quickly found, through police and court records, the informant gave police the wrong address. The 23-year-old suspect police were looking for actually lived in the unit next door to Young at the time of the raid and had no connection to her.

CBS 2 also found police could have easily tracked the suspect’s location and where he really lived because at the time of the raid, he was wearing an electronic monitoring device.

“That piece of paper [search warrant] gives them the right to, you know, that says you can do X, Y, Z based on what’s on that paper,” Young said. “So if you get it wrong, you are taking 100 percent control of someone else’s life and treating them in a bad way.”

The body camera video also raises questions about the approval of the warrant. In one clip, officers in a squad car reviewed their notes and can be heard talking. CPD wouldn’t comment when CBS 2 asked what the conversation meant.

“It wasn’t initially approved or some crap,” one officer said.

“What does that mean?” the second officer asked.

“I have no idea,” the first officer said. “I mean, they told him it was approved, then I guess that person messed up on their end.”

Citing an ongoing investigation by the Civilian Office of Police Accountability (COPA), CPD also wouldn’t comment when CBS 2 asked about the raid or why officers acted solely on an informant’s tip.

“Who are you looking for?” Young asked.

“I’ve been living here for four years and nobody lives here but me,” she yelled.

“I’m telling you this is wrong,” Young continued. “I have nothing to do with whoever this person is you are looking for.”

This is not the first time police failed to do basic checks that would have contradicted bad information given by an informant. Last year, CBS 2 interviewed the Blassingame family who were wrongly raided by police in 2015. Jalonda Blassingame’s young sons said officers pointed guns at them, leaving them traumatized, like dozens of other children CBS 2 interviewed as part of its two-year investigative series.

“I felt scared for my life,” said her son Jaden, who was 10 at the time of the raid.

CBS 2 quickly found the suspect police were looking for had no connection to the Blassingames and had been in prison at the time of the raid for years.

That trauma experienced by innocent children and families as a result of wrong CPD raids was the subject of CBS 2’s half-hour documentary, “[un]warranted.” It also examines how Black and Latino families are disproportionately affected.

“They are adding trauma to people’s lives that will be with them the rest of their lives,” Young said. “Children have to grow up with that for the rest of their lives. The system is broken.”

Many of the families interviewed, including Young, filed lawsuits against police. Keenan Saulter, Young’s attorney, said he believes wrong raids are violating families’ constitutional rights.

“If this had been a young woman in Lincoln Park by herself in her home naked, a young white woman — let’s just be frank – if the reaction would have been the same? I don’t think it would have been,” Saulter said. “I think [officers] would have saw that woman, rightfully so, as someone who was vulnerable, someone who deserved protection, someone who deserved to have their dignity maintained. They viewed Ms. Young as less than human.”

Young said the way officers treated and spoke to her during the raid amplified the trauma she experienced. The video shows she was visibly upset and afraid as she asked police questions, but did not immediately receive any answers about why officers were there.

“OK, OK, you don’t have to shout,” the sergeant said.

“I don’t have to shout?” Young yelled. “This is f****** ridiculous. You’ve got me in handcuffs. I’m naked, and you kicked my house in. I keep telling you, you’ve got the wrong place.”

Young cried during her interview when she remembered how police treated her.

“When I asked them to show me, when I asked them to tell me what they are doing in my house, and their response to me was just, shut up and calm down, that’s so disrespectful,” she said.

About 13 minutes into the raid, a female officer who later arrived walked Young to her room so she could get dressed, but put the handcuffs back on afterward. Police continued to question Young while she was clothed.

“Ma’am, there’s no firearms in this place?” the sergeant asked.

“There’s no gun in this place…no, no, no,” Young answered. “I am a social worker…I’ve been a social worker for 20 years. I follow the law. I don’t get in trouble for anything. I don’t do illegal stuff. I’m not that person. You’ve got the wrong information.”

The sergeant then told the affiant officer – the cop who got the warrant – to step outside.

“I want to have a conversation with you, let’s go talk outside,” the sergeant said.

But moments later, the officer’s body camera turned off. CPD did not respond to questions about why the camera was turned off – a pattern CBS 2 found both during wrong raids and in CPD’s every day interactions with civilians.

#news #us news #usa #chicago #illinois #illegal search warrants #breaking and entering #police #cops #monsters #police accountability #police incompetence #police corruption #police cover ups #thin blue line #police are pigs #reform police #reform the police

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gduncan969 · 4 years

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Running and Resting

Hebrews 4:11 “Let us labour therefore to enter into that rest, lest any man fall after the same example of unbelief.” (KJV)

It’s getting really hard to sort out fact from fiction these days. Every time we get some major new announcement from the government about progress over the COVID pandemic we immediately get hundreds of opposing statements telling us not to believe it. It used to be easier to dismiss the nay-sayers as a “flakey-fringe” group stubbornly refusing to accept any scientific evidence supporting the announcement, but now every such announcement is immediately followed by very un-flakey hordes of scientists, all with a long list of degrees and titles after their names and some with stellar reputations in their field, warning us not to believe the authorities and even accusing them of pushing a hidden agenda to take control of our lives. Where lies the truth? Who are we going to believe? Certainly not our politicians fixated on their own secret agendas and self-interests as the recent election in the US clearly shows! We used to feel safe because we could trust the science but that’s no longer the case when so many scientists hold diametrically opposite views and “truth” is now defined in purely subjective terms. On one hand we might rejoice that there are now several COVID vaccines being made available but on the other, we have a former vice-president of Pfizer Inc., and a host of other medical professionals warning us to stay away from them because they are downright dangerous and may be part of a global reset designed to control us under a world government dominated by zillionaires. Real warnings of forced vaccinations abound and believe it or not, some scientists are claiming the vaccine will contain---wait for it---“nanobots” (minuscule robotic implants) meant to control how we think! Surely, this is all nonsense, fear-based science fiction from the flakey-fringe groups but wasn’t it just this week that the news media announced China is researching how to “bio-engineer” better soldiers for its army and wasn’t it just the other day they announced the birth of a healthy baby girl from a human embryo conceived twenty seven years ago! Yesterday, I read on page one of a national newspaper that our prime-minister’s half-brother, Kyle Kemper, considers “the real battle is not between left and right, it is between authoritarianism versus libertarianism” and he is urging people to sign the petition by conservative MP Derek Sloan against the new vaccines which he describes as human experimentation with serious risks to those who take it and designed to prevent a disease from which 99% of the people who catch it survive. As I turned to page two, I found an article about a retired Israeli general, the former head of Israel’s space security program and a university professor telling us that aliens exist and they are part of a “Galactic Federation” with “underground bunkers on Mars”. Really!, a galactic federation? underground bunkers on Mars? No wonder people today don’t know what to believe. Is it really possible that a cabal of globalists has managed to pull off the greatest swindle in history—stealing the US election? Is it really possible that China has infiltrated the corridors of power and media in the US and beyond right down to the municipal level? Five years ago, such questions would have guaranteed you a visit to a psychiatrist. Today, they are becoming mainstream and being asked by some very highly qualified people..

What is the Christian to make of all of this?

Many believers are bewildered by all of this and their anxiety levels are soaring as they search for clarity in the chaos. “What will happen to me if this is all true? What can I do about it? Will I be able to buy food if I refuse the vaccine? Will I be able to keep my job, travel, visit friends or hug my grandchildren? What kind of future will I have? Will I be able to marry, raise a family, pursue my dreams without having to submit my independence to some internationally ordained collective “good”? The short answer to all of these questions is the same as it has always been: TRUST IN GOD. Us older folks have asked all these questions before and seen them answered. In the years following WWII, nuclear annihilation was a very real threat. The cold war was in full swing and my police-officer father-in-law was responsible for overseeing the civil-defense operations for an entire county in Scotland. He trained his daughter, Eleanor, as a civil-defense warden in the event of a nuclear attack which many thought was only a matter of time. Casualty estimates were in the hundreds of thousands and that was just for one bomb in one city. Eleanor well remembers the struggle she had overcoming the thought that she would never marry and never have children, a thought shared by many young Christians today. But God is faithful! She did marry and had three children and now six wonderful grandchildren plus fifty five years of marriage to me! In that light, the COVID “crisis” with its 99% survival rate is hardly worth the worry and even if the aliens are living on Mars and working with earthlings to control us, our God is bigger than them all and has “given to us exceedingly great and precious promises, that through these you may be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust” (2 Peter 1:4).

Entering your rest

God has made provision for us by inviting us into His rest which is a place where we cease from all our striving and self-effort and simply rest in His accomplished work. That’s hard to do in the midst of a pandemic but it’s where He Himself dwells. In that place we have nothing to worry about and nothing to achieve through self effort because He has done it all, so the antidote to all of this fear and worry is to climb back up into our place of rest. Hebrews 4: 9 - 13 says:

“There remains therefore a rest for the people of God. For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His. Let us therefore be diligent to enter that rest, lest anyone fall according to the same example of disobedience. For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.”

The King James Version puts it this way: “Let us labour therefore to enter that rest” which tells us it will require some considerable work on out part to get in there. In other words, God has called us to work hard at only one thing: TO QUIT WORKING AND ENTER OUR REST. Our rest is a place where we recognize that He has already done it all and there’s nothing left for us to do except love Him, trust Him, follow Him and rest in Him. He has it all under control and “will not allow you to be tempted—with worries and fears— beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). The “way of escape” is the means by which we escape the temptation to become fearful of all that is swirling around us in this crazy world and it refers to a “landing place” where a bird buffeted by a storm can take refuge while the storm rages on—a place of rest in the midst of the storm, a place where we remind ourselves of the pastor who said, “I have read the back of the Book and we win!” As the world continues to lose sight of what is true, having swallowed the lie that all truth is subjective (your truth is not my truth), we can remind ourselves that we serve the One who is the Truth and He can be trusted to reveal Himself to us and lead us through these troubling times. Life may get more difficult in the months ahead but Hebrews 12:1 encourages us to “run with patient endurance the race that is set before us”. The race we are in is not a 100-metre dash but a lifelong marathon full of ups and downs that will both thrill us and challenge us and like any experienced marathon runner, we must reach that place in the race where we break through the fear and exhaustion and know that we are able to rest in the knowledge that we will cross the finishing line successfully as we continue to run on. That place is His rest and may we all find it.

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shanroeform · 4 years

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Leave Her to Brew: an Early Analysis of the 2021 Champion Chase

Around this time a few years ago I was on Koh Phangan, a Thai island famous for its Full Moon Parties. During one of the hazy nights I spent on the island, I was approached by a promoter advertising a Muay Thai tournament that he promised would be a spectacular display of combat between world-class performers, all accompanied by free drinks. As any western tourist with no experience of these kind of things, a love of sport and the smell of several Sangsoms on their breath would, I accepted without a second thought.

What followed can only be described as the most compelling lawsuit for false advertisement the courts of Thailand will ever see. In truth, I should have been suspicious when I looked around the venue and saw no locals, no TV cameras, not even a big screen. Somehow, this world-class event had evaded the attention of the Muay Thai hardcore and instead attracted a crowd consisting solely of Brits, Irish and Australians, all of whom had just stumbled back from an all-day boat party and somehow managed to remember the sporting spectacle that was due to be held in their honour.

The faces in the audience were, unbelievably, nothing in comparison to those in the ring. Despite my promoter friend’s earnest promises of the most deadly Muay Thai operators in this part of the world, the only local taking part had a severe limp and had clearly fallen out of love with the game (imagine an 18-year-old Cue Card being forced to carry top weight in a Southwell handicap).

The rest of the competition was made up of other Brits, Irish and Australians who were in an even worse state than their watching friends; they looked as though they had been on yesterday’s boat party and had not gone to bed since. One of these intrepid fighters ended up winning by default, with the local hero forced to withdraw injured (although he was still more than capable of winning with his hands tied behind his back) and the other tourists practically knocking themselves out.

Watching the Champion Chase earlier this year, I was forcibly reminded of this ignominious evening. We had been promised the greatest Queen Mother in years - Altior, the two-time champion and four-time Festival winner, would defend his crown against the unbeaten* great Irish hope Chacun Pour Soi and a Defi Du Seuil who had swept all before him so far that season. As I saw first Altior and then Chacun Pour Soi drop out of the race, before Defi Du Seuil slipped further and further back in running, the smell of cheap vodka and vomit rose unbidden in my nose and dragged me back to the disappointment of that Koh Phangan night.

It’s not that I didn’t enjoy seeing Politologue win - like the “Muay Thai” I ended up watching, it was a thoroughly entertaining spectacle once you accepted it for what it was and I’m very glad I saw it. However, the race was simply not what I had built myself up for and it is hard to accept compensation in place of a once in a lifetime experience (just ask any of the dopes who paid over $1000 to see Blink-182 at Fyre Festival).

I came into this National Hunt season hoping that the 2021 Champion Chase would make up for last year’s non-event. Our opening act began this weekend with the 2020 Arkle winner Put The Kettle On taking on Defi Du Seuil in the Shloer Chase, to be followed by Altior’s return in next month’s Tingle Creek and Chacun Pour Soi’s reappearance on the other side of the Irish Sea (he is entered in the John Durkan at the start of December, but the Paddy’s Rewards Club Chase over two miles on 27 December seems more likely). Unfortunately, whilst we were treated to a thrilling performance by Put The Kettle On, our starter was marred by the sight of Defi Du Seuil being pulled up before the last.

This disappointing showing from the Phillip Hobbs horse prompts an early re-think of the 2021 Champion Chase (the bright side of this being that at least, instead of being crushed all in one go by disappointment of the eve of the race, we can accept its slow suffocation throughout the season and make arrangements accordingly). Thankfully, Defi Du Seuil is reportedly OK after his failure to complete - however, after the second worrying run in succession for the former Triumph Hurdle winner, there may now be concerns as to whether he will even run in the two mile showpiece next year, let alone threaten to win it.

That the gelding is showing signs of potential wear and tear may not be too surprising given that, for a seven-year-old, he is fairly heavily raced. Having started his career aged just three in France, the son of Voix Du Nord has now had 22 runs in under five years. To put this into context, Altior, at ten, has raced just twice more than Defi Du Seuil, and Chacun Pour Soi has seen a racecourse only eight times despite being a year older than his compatriot. Like the kid at your school who was given his first beer before he started his GCSEs, Defi Du Seuil peaked early and may now forever be chasing his glory days.

It is not just the volume of racing which has left its mark on the French bred, but also the intensity of his efforts. Since Defi’s juvenile season, he has not finished further than 3.5 lengths ahead of second place in any of his 6 victories and has also been beaten by less than 4.5 lengths on two occasions. We all remember the McManus horse’s titanic clashes with Un De Sceaux last season, both run on ground as fit for a war reenactment as for a horse race, as well as his trilogy with Lostintranslation in his novice campaign. As fans we love these sort of races, but they scar horses - Kell Brook may have claimed he was better than ever going into his fight with Terence Crawford on Saturday night, but, after having both eye sockets shattered on previous occasions, it transpired that such comments didn’t defend him against being knocked out.

Defi Du Seuil’s time at the top of the two mile division may therefore be dwindling to an end. This is not an unfamiliar pattern amongst top class French-bred two mile chasers: Master Minded ran his last race aged eight and Douvan has raced just five times since turning seven in 2017. Whether he still has enough left to make the 2021 Champion Chase a spectacle is questionable, even aside from valid questions about whether he was ever good enough to threaten Altior - is beating a 12-year-old Un De Sceaux by under three lengths a strong enough piece of form to justify the challenge?

Fans of JP McManus’ gelding could take comfort in Defi Du Seuil’s poor re-appearance record. He has lost first time out in two of the previous three seasons, including finishing dead last in a November Grade Two over two miles in his novice chase season before going on to win the then-JLT. Phillip Hobbs is also in poor form, having had just two winners from 35 runners in the 14 days preceding Defi’s return on Saturday. If you want to find it, there is evidence to convince yourself that he retains the ability to win the Champion Chase come March. Just remember, if you do, that some people manage to persuade themselves that the world is flat, the American election was rigged and Ole Gunnar Solskjaer is a good football manager.

There is not much more to write about Chacun Pour Soi since my preview of last season’s Champion Chase which, strangely, weakens any early case against him winning the 2021 edition further. Willie Mullins’ hope did not show up to Cheltenham in March and appears to be somewhat fragile - whilst he only suffered a stone bruise and would likely have raced at Punchestown, the fact remains that Chacun Pour Soi has now run just four times since arriving at Closutton in December 2016. Indeed, at the moment, I would rather bet that the eight-year-old won’t run in the Champion Chase than I would on him winning the thing. Douvan is my favourite horse of all time and I have simply been hurt too much to be sucked in by his successor. Chacun will have to make a bigger romantic gesture than Justin Timberlake’s flash mob in Friends With Benefits to get me on side.

Chacun’s absence in March also leaves the question of how he will handle the Festival to fester for another year. He has never run at Prestbury Park and we’re left to ponder whether he will deal with the stiff track and the extreme undulations, let alone the unique atmosphere, after only four runs under the care of Mullins. This could be picking at hairs in light of his win at the Dublin Racing (on a stiff enough track at Leopardstown) and Punchestown (which does undulate) Festivals. However, for a horse whose record doesn’t inspire confidence that he will turn up at all, a best price of 9/2 is short enough for an unproven Cheltenham racer who could plausibly disagree with the Festival on the day.

If you believe Nicky Henderson, he has “never seen [Altior] move better” (RacingTV Stable Tour). We have heard similar rhetoric from the six-time champion trainer throughout Altior’s career, but there comes a point where this simply stops being true. Patricia Pugh’s horse will be 11 by the time the Champion Chase is run and you have to question whether he retains his full powers.

The last 11-year-old winner of the race was Moscow Flyer in 2005 and, to find the only other horse old enough to start secondary school to have won the Champion Chase, you have to go back to 1976 and Skymas. Now listen, I love mocking the #trendslads as much as anyone and if I’ve ever seen a horse to laugh at this stat it is Altior - he has embarrassed me in front of my family too many times not to hesitate here and he did sprint away from Sceau Royal in rather familiar style last time out at Newbury.

However, at this stage of his career, it is valid to question whether Altior is capable of repeating his Festival heroics for a fifth time. Pugh’s horse showed the first cracks of fragility last season, losing his unbeaten record to Cyrname in a race which Henderson described as “unavoidable” and which I call “utterly stupid from both Nicky and Paul to go life and death in the trenches in November”. He was then absent until February, missing an (allegedly) intended appointment over three miles on Boxing Day, before pulling a sickie on the eve of the Festival. This was the first time in five seasons that Altior had missed Cheltenham and, in his advancing age, it would not be too difficult to foresee this once again.

Aside from the above, Altior’s winning margin in the 2019 Champion Chase was just 1.75 lengths - rumour has it that the Star Sports betting stand is still stained from the excited mess which Ben made as they came over the last, his dream of getting Henderson’s horse beaten finally within touching distance. In comparison, Altior’s previous Festival wins were by seven, six and seven lengths and Politologue had never gotten within breathing distance of the High Chaparral gelding. If you consider these potentially waning powers alongside Altior’s age and apparent increasing susceptibility to injury, not to mention Cyrname’s revelation that he can in fact be beaten, a case can be made for vulnerability at best and a non-appearance at worst.

In my preview of last season’s Champion Chase, I compared the race to the Expendables film franchise - with trailers full of superstars and an end product that Adam Sandler may as well have acted in. Well, we’re now back for the third edition, which unfortunately received the worst reviews yet: as Rolling Stone said in its one-star write-up, “The Expendables 3, trading on our affection for action stars of the past, has officially worn out its already shaky welcome”. In short, a Champion Chase which at first glance looks so full of dependable quality could, in similar fashion, very well fall apart once more - whether this is in the months building up to it or on the day itself.

Could this leave the race open for good old Politologue once more? I would be the last person to put you off a 16-1 poke on a proven Grade One horse, especially in a race like this. However, Paul Nicholls’ horse has consistently fallen short against the best of the best and, having written a rather pessimistic article so far, I have to retain enough optimism to hope that a proper superstar can emerge to outshadow the defending champion. Christmas is on the way, after all.

Greaneteen has been touted as a potential threat to the established order by better judges than myself - Tony Calvin previously advised an early Tingle Creek and potential Champion Chase bet, and he is due to put it up to Altior in the Sandown showpiece having won the Haldon Gold Cup following Calvin’s article. Greaneteen is now a best price 20/1 for the Festival (having been as big as 40s before his Exeter victory) but in two runs round Cheltenham he has finished only 13th and fourth. His fourth place was in March’s Grand Annual carrying 11-7 which, with respect, the owner of a championship quality horse would expect to be low enough to carry to victory (see Frodon shouldering 11-12 to win over three miles at the Open Meeting last month). His win in the Haldon Gold Cup saw him win by a neck whilst carrying just 11-3 (albeit more comfortably than this sounds) - Moonlighter, in second, was rated 142 (now 147) and has won just three of 16 races. Not one for me, unfortunately.

The 2018-19 season saw Le Richebourg emerge as a potential two mile superstar, winning three out of three races over the distance (including two Grade Ones) and finishing a very close second to the gallant Delta Work over two and a half. He would surely have won the Arkle had he stayed well, but Joseph O’Brien’s horse has now been absent with injury since February 2019. Whilst there’s a gap in the market, Le Richebourg may no longer fit through it after so long on the sidelines.

Other potential hopefuls include Duc Des Genievres, who won the aforementioned Arkle in 2019 and performed strongly on his reappearance this weekend, and Douvan (just let me dream). There is far too much against either of these horses for me to suggest that they could be a potential Champion Chase winner in 2021, however (at least in public - I will keep myself warm with my duvet of Douvan dockets dating back to 2017).

We are left, then, to turn to the usual point of respite when confronted with such a predicament - the Kettle.

Put The Kettle On was thrilling at Cheltenham this weekend when battling past a rejuvenated Duc Des Genievres in the Shloer Chase and she clearly loves racing at Prestbury Park. She had to show tremendous bravery to force past Paul Nicholls’ horse, who had led from the off and at one point established a rather wide gap between himself and the mare. However, like a local at their favourite pub shooing an out of towner out of their usual seat, Henry De Bromhead’s charge made her presence known to secure her third win in as many outings under the gaze of Cleeve Hill.

This performance was even more impressive given the list of factors which went against her going into the race. De Bromhead’s horses are in terrible form, having won just twice in 42 outings in the two weeks before the race, and Put The Kettle On was having her first run since the March. This was indeed only her second run in a year, and, having been active throughout last summer, it would have been fair to expect the mare to have needed the run. On top of this, whilst all of Stowaway’s daughter’s wins here have come on soft ground, jockey Aidan Coleman suggested that she did not enjoy the boggy conditions: “She hated the ground and was never happy the whole way. It's a testament to her ability and attitude because it was a hard race.”

With all things considered, it was difficult not to be taken by the performance. There are of course lingering doubts - the close proximity of Duc Des Genievres, who has not won since his Arkle victory, could lead to suspicion, and some will argue that Put The Kettle On is yet to face a genuine on-form Grade One animal given Defi Du Seuil’s non-performance. However, Saturday’s conditions were a near replication of the Duc’s greatest race, in which he achieved a rating of 163, and he looked near his best following the switch to Paul Nicholls’ yard. The winning distance of 1.25 lengths also does not do the mare justice, as she was handily on top at the finishing post.

With this performance in mind, along with the fragility of the “big three” in the market, I think Put The Kettle On offers terrific value at a best-price of 10/1 for the Champion Chase. There is a good chance that she arrives at the race with at least one of the triumvirate absent, and, even if all are present, it is not difficult to envisage any of them encountering problems in running. 10/1 for a proven Cheltenham performer, who has transferred her novice ability into open company, goes on any ground, is open to improvement aged just six and who may find herself facing little competition is too big for me and, in a worst case scenario where she finds nothing else and all three of the big guns return to their peak, is a fantastic each way play.

Having won at Cheltenham in November 2019 before being put away until her Arkle win, it may be that Put The Kettle On is left to brew until the 2021 Champion Chase. Whilst in this scenario her price would not fall of her own making, the 10/1 could rapidly disappear if further problems emerge with Altior and Chacun Pour Soi (Defi Du Seuil is already as big as 20/1) and none of the other potential candidates step up.

However, it would be a shame not to see her until March - she is a fantastic, brave horse who could quickly become a people’s favourite if she continues in the same vein as her last three runs. I hope she causes her price to collapse all on her own.

---

*In Britain and Ireland - he was beaten as a 3 & 4 year-old in France.

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blaugr4na · 7 years

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#BartomeuDimiteHoy: MASTER LIST

The best Barcelona in history - the Barcelona that became a reference for world football and became the only club to have ever won a sextuple - was under Joan Laporta and his model which emphasized Cruyff, La Masia, Catalunya, and UNICEF. Since Laporta was replaced on July 1st, 2010, this model has continuously decayed and as the campaign for the vital VOTE OF NO CONFIDENCE approaches, I thought I would make an updated "master list” of some of evident damage happening within our club since Sandro Rosell and Josep Maria Bartomeu have taken over.

Disrespectful/Mishandled Departures

Johan Cruyff

Stripped of his honorary presidency and pushed away from the club

Cruyff confirmed in an interview with RAC1 that him/Rosell only spoke to him once (which was when they took his title as honorary president away) and that him/Bartomeu never spoke.

Bartomeu himself, in 2008: “We need to say no to Cruyff. Voting yes to the motion of censure [against Laporta] is to vote no for Cruyffism at Barça.”

Pep Guardiola

Left him alone to defend himself and our club against Mourinho and the lies published by Madrid based media due to the board’s eagerness to avoid the media

Ex: the allegations that our players were doping/working with doctors of “questionable reputations” (which we ended up letting go for only €200,000), the allegations that we accepted refereeing favors, etc.

Was blamed by the board for Zlatan’s signing in front of the socis while Rosell called it the “worst deal in the history of the club” even though Pep wasn’t the only person responsible for it

After all of this and more, they claimed to the fans that they did “everything in their power” to make Pep stay after he decided to step away

Even after he left, Rosell said “Everything [Pep] says is false. There is no argument or evidence for his claims about us. I put it down to someone poisoning Pep’s mind, but he allowed himself to be poisoned.” after Pep went public with the fact that they crossed the line with him and weren’t keeping their word of promising to leave him in peace after leaving

Eric Abidal

Forced out of the club in tears while lies were being told both to him and about him

Bartomeu, 2012: “Abidal’s contract is ready, and when he plays his first match, we’ll sign it”. He returned to play. They never renewed him.

Lied to the public claiming medical departments concluded that he wouldn’t be able to continue as a player. Abidal went on to continue playing for the French NT and played over 30 matches for Monaco.

Dani Alves

Let go for free

Publicly confirmed that during his final years, he would always hear 'Alves was leaving,' but the directors never said anything to his face (to confirm the rumours or support/reassure him of his place in the club)

These were, apparently, among many leaks to the media which came directly from the board, who were trying to demonize him in the media, which is believed to go back to Dani’s personal problems with the board related to, among other things, their treatment of Eric Abidal

Has since been one of the most outspoken about how much he was disrespected, and in general how much this board doesn’t respect their players

Thiago Alcantara

Destined/developed to be Xavi’s eventual replacement.

Forced to play the minimum amount of matches in his last season to keep his buyout clause at 18m instead of it going up to €90m (to ensure a sale as Neymar’s transfer approached).

Sold for €20m

Xavi

Was almost certainly leaving for NYCFC back in 2014.

Lucho and Zubi convinced him into staying another year because he knew the team needed him to

Still failed to sign a proper replacement after he left

David Villa

Bought for €40m, sold to direct league rivals for €5m

Txema Corbella

Was our beloved kit man for 32 years. Has shared our dressing room with players from Maradona to Messi.

Described by Victor Valdes as “someone who is like a father to me and has always protected us”

Was also the last person who tried to convince Valdes to stay, telling him “You'll never be better off than you are here” in tears

After returning from his vacation in 2014, was fired by the board without warning, given no reason other than “he wasn’t necessary”.

Willful neglect of La Masia

Eusebio

Was kept and continued to renew his contract despite his disregard for actual player development because he was close with the board and his results with FCBB were “enough” for them until they were relegated to Segunda B.

Oscar Garcia

Lead Juvenil A to 3/3 titles with only 3 defeats in 50 matches in his first season as coach and was chosen to replace Lucho at Barça B, but the board ended up signing Eusebio instead. Oscar stayed with the club despite this.

During his second season as Juvenil A coach, Eusebio would frequently call up Oscar’s top players to Barça B and not even use them. One of the most significant cases was when Oscar’s team lost the Liga on the last match of the season. Eusebio had called up Dongou for Barça B’s match and never even used him. The team suffered all year and Oscar unfairly took the blame from the press, but stayed with the club as Zubi promised him the Barça B coaching position claiming that Eusebio would be leaving Barça B.

A month later, they renewed Eusebio, pushing Oscar out.

A good article for more about this can be found [here].

Thiago. Bartra. Grimaldo. Samper. Munir. Sandro. Eric Garcia. Adama. Mboula. The list can go on.

Graduates are increasingly being denied their chance and are shown the door while excessive amounts of money are being spent on players outside the club. They have shown that La Masia kids more of a way to make money for them and could not care less about developing them to have them on the first team.

Refuses to take any responsibility and actually blamed our players for the fall of La Masia

Bartomeu, July 2017: “The problem is people like Xavi, Iniesta, Messi and those players. It is likely that there are other Messis, but they have to leave the club because it is impossible for them to play here.”

Sergi Roberto

Has worked for years to gain the trust of the coach and become a starter, staying on the bench and refusing offers from other clubs for years to prove himself

Played out of position for 2 consecutive years and not only shined, but played a crucial role in many important moments

The year he was promised an opportunity in his favoured role, Paulinho is signed for €40m with a release clause of €140m (Sergi’s release clause is €40m)

Lionel Messi

Had his contract renewal stalled by the board for months in 2014. It was Tito Vilanova, in his last days, who spoke with Messi and convinced him to remain calm and stay.

Launched the controversial #WeAreAllLeoMessi campaign during the tax fraud trial, with Bartomeu tweeting out “Leo, those who attack you are attacking Barça and its history. We’ll defend you to the end. Together forever!” ...then, as Laporta pointed out, refused to send any board members to support him when he went to testify in court.

Bartomeu has sent out private polls to socis asking how they felt about selling him

Reemergence of Ultras in Barcelona

Before Laporta, they were given free tickets to home matches, free transportation to away games, and storage facilities at Camp Nou for their flags and banners.

When Laporta was elected in 2003, he formally banned their presence at matches and fought so hard to keep them away from Camp Nou/distance the club from their conduct that he was almost killed (they painted death threats outside his house and tried to attack him on more than one occasion). Still, he insisted on “talking less and acting more” to stop them.

When they went to Rosell/Bartomeu after he was elected, he was willing to compromise. They didn’t just “sneak back in”, he invited them back and gave them extremely cheap and sometimes even free tickets.

This is still happening. We’ve paid for tickets so they can attend UCL away matches. A couple years ago when two PSG fans were recently stabbed outside of Camp Nou in an area frequented by ultras, Bartomeu and his board wouldn’t comply with Catalan police.

2015 Transfer Ban

All of it happened due to the incompetency of the board.

FIFA warned the board about the problems related to the Masia players over A YEAR before taking action. The board said they would settle it, but they still did nothing.

They put the “La Masia No Es Toca” banner up and initially lied about the situation, only to have Bartomeu later admit that it was actually due to ‘administrative errors’.

Zubi himself even said: “Mr. Bartomeu is the one who knew the situation better than anyone, as he was the sporting vice president during that time.”

We were left with both a harsh punishment due their mistakes and we had to to step up to defend the credibility the academy that is part of why we are més que un club.

Qatar

The club that wore and sponsored (not sponsored by) UNICEF with pride accepts a sponsorship deal with Qatar Sports Investments. ‘Qatar Airways’ gets painted across Camp Nou while UNICEF got relegated to a spot on the back of our shirt.

Justified it by saying Qatar Foundation also were a philanthropy institution who were responsible for helping thousands of people around the world like UNICEF and that most socis welcomed the addition, brushed off the serious allegations against the Qatar Foundation’s founder as mistakes “made in good faith”

While Bartomeu fought to keep them as our sponsor until QSI gave up on the sponsorship, it was Piqué and Shakira who did the work in initiating and closing the new deal with Rakuten.

Bartomeu admitted this himself: “The deal began at a dinner hosted by Gerard Pique at Hiroshi Mikitani's house in San Francisco in 2015. Shakira and Pique are good friends of Mikitani and they organised a dinner. We met there and we spoke about the future and Rakuten's interest - Pique helped us a lot here.”

Camp Nou

Scraped Laporta’s “Forster Project” to renovate Camp Nou claiming it was too expensive. Cost: €250m.

Replaced it with their project, Espai Barça. Cost: €600m.

Has been unworkable so far due to the board’s inability to get proper plan that the municipality agrees with

Neymar’s Arrival Fiasco

Rosell/Bartomeu lied and did everything they possibly could to make it the move that started the “Rosell era” - A move he could call his own, one that he thought would pull him out from the shadows of his predecessor’s success and ensure his re-election.

This has since only damaged the reputation of this club and got us sued for tax fraud.

Rosell appeared on live TV and said “Neymar costed €57.1 million. Period.”

Actual costs to date = €10 million in 2011 to ensure the move (confirmed by Neymar Sr), €86.2 million in 2013 for the actual transfer + bonus (confirmed by Bartomeu) and €22 million for the tax fraud case = €118 million, approximately.

A sum of that money was also dedicated to paying Neymar Sr and his company, N&N, every year so he could “scout” Brazilian players (ex: Douglas) for us. Multiple other unconfirmed rumours are connected to this deal as well.

Bartomeu has since said he would "do it all over again" regarding the Neymar contract, despite our club being first in Spain guilty of tax fraud

Neymar’s Departure Fiasco

Bartomeu was aware Neymar was leaving since July, but didn't prepare to sign players to replace him

Panicked after losing the Spanish Super Cup and publicly spoke about bringing Coutinho and Dembele WHILE STILL NEGOTIATING THE DEALS (which could still fall through) with BVB and Liverpool - who can now raise the prices and we won’t be able to do anything about it.

Even as they were jeopardizing the deals and revealing details about private negotiations, they still tried to claim “they couldn’t say anything about them” (as they literally were speaking about them)

WHAT CAN WE DO?

Make your voice heard - it’s more important and impactful than you might think.

Use the hashtag: #BartomeuDimiteHoy

Our voices are already being heard: We’ve made it trend in not only Spain, but worldwide.

The pressure is already being felt: They’ve had #BartomeuDimiteYa censored. They have publicly made claims that this hashtag is “only being used by foreigners” (which is not only untrue, but also a disgusting excuse considering our club's best ever player is a foreigner, the most influential person in club's history is also a foreigner, the club's founder is a foreigner, foreigners alter their sleep schedules to watch games, foreigners pay to buy jerseys/travel from all over the world to support their team, etc...)

Support Agustí Benedito

He activated the process of the motion of no-confidence and will be leading the campaign for the upcoming vote.

Twitter: @agustibenedito

No-Confidence Campaign Website: votdecensura2017.cat

THE CAMPAIGN WILL START OFFICIALLY ON SEPTEMBER 1ST, 2017.

His pressure is being felt too: They have tried to destabilize the No-Confidence campaign by claiming Benedito has owes them €10,000 from his presidential campaign - this has since been confirmed as false.

Are you a soci, 18+, in Barcelona, and have been a soci for 1+ year? VOTE!!!

Socis that meet these requirements are the ONLY ones who can officially give their signatures in the first stage of the vote.

Benedito should have the forms by Friday, September 8th. He needs 16,500 signatures in 14 days to get past the VITAL first stage of the vote.

Watch [THIS] video for more in-depth information about Benedito’s motion and SPREAD IT!

I’m probably forgetting some things, and there’s probably even more that we don’t know, but hopefully the message here is clear.

I will say it again like I did before the last election - I always have and I always will love and stand behind FC Barcelona, no matter what. I’m personally not one of those who wishes worse on the club just so the board looks worse, nor do I point at the board and over-exaggerate every single little shortcoming. I probably even try and balance the reasons behind their actions more than I should sometimes. But all of the things listed above are facts, and while we should never lose faith in our team, we cannot be blind to the mismanagement that is having such a damaging affect either. The calls for Bartomeu’s resignation are not because we don’t have faith in our club; they are because we rightfully do not have faith in the current board. They have gotten away with too much and dodged responsibility for too long.

Please do what you can to spread the word. Give Benedito’s motion a real chance of succeeding. TOTS UNITS FEM FORÇA.

#it's late.. this is probably sloppy and i'm probably forgetting things but i hope the message is clear #long but very very important receipts #fc barcelona #barça #bartomeudimiteya

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real-life-senshi · 7 years

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Amour Eternal DVD Launch Event on Nico Nico Live

Link: http://www.bilibili.com/video/av10608122 (the video is subbed in Chinese. I haven’t been able to find a raw version that can be viewed in NA.)

Content Highlights:

The girls started off the event with a gag on the MC’s low scratchy voice, asking if the MC is feeling ill. Karen did the Mars Snake Fire pose because the girls suggested a blast of hot air can help ease a stuffed nose. (It is likely planned, the MC is a comedian who specializes in anime and manga content, and the previous Inner cast did a similar gag in the Un Nouveau Voyage DVD Launch event but Kanon used Burning Mandala instead.)

1st segment: Inner cast’s choice of “praise me for my performance!” scenes – but it really is just cast’s choice of highlighted scenes.

Rimo (Venus): The Silver Millennium scene, which everyone’s first reaction to the choice was “Why?” They all thought there are other Venus scenes Rimo could highlight. (I personally expected Inner Venus.) Rimo was proud of how she poured every ounce of her elegance into portraying Venus.

Kaede (Jupiter): During Mercury’s solo verse in Satalite, Kaede was proud of flipping a Dead Moon Circus member over. Unfortunately it wasn’t included in the DVD cuts. From the sounds of it, the action required a lot of well timed action with the circus trope member to pull off, likely even the view in live broadcast version didn’t do it justice.

Karen (Mars): Her front kick during Satalite, she’s proud of how her kick reaches over eye level. Since the kick is so high, the MC asked if there were times Karen had fallen from doing it. Karen said there weren’t issues with the kick, but one time during a Tokyp performance, Rimo’s ribbon got caught and was ripped off. When Karen got off stage she shouted “oh no” and their mic was on, so it’s likely audience heard it.

Yume (Mercury): The circus entrance test, the act was really hard and there are times that they would fail to complete it on stage, she was proud she was able to do it perfectly DVD performance. Yume shared that they originally only needed to roll over three balls, but somehow a fourth was added into rehearsal when it was getting close to the performance date. The MC asked if the circus troupe still “pass” them when they failed to complete the test during performance, the answer is yes. Hotaru read a live comment that said “when compared to Usagi’s following performance, everyone else performed perfect enough!” Hotaru “defended” saying she can definitely do it if given a chance to do it seriously. lol

Hotaru (Moon): She was proud/happy about the joined kick she did with ChibiMoon and Saturn at the back during Mars’ solo verse. She highlighted that the Senshi are often separated into their Inner or Outer groups, so she was happy she got to hold hands with Saturn and ChibiMoon.

The MC talked about how Saturn grew up from a 6months old baby to a teenage Senshi in the blink of an eye, and the girls shared a story that during one of the flights traveling to performance venues, there was actually a 6 months old baby sitting close to them. The cast were all saying “this is how Saturn was originally supposed to be!”

2nd segment: Senshi Questionnaire – Who is the most XX? The Senshi were given a questionnaire to answer ahead of time, and the person for each category is determined by the majority’s vote. The MC also read out their reasoning for each vote.

Q: Who is the most reliable among the Inner cast? A: Hotaru

Majority of live audience commented Kaede seems most reliable, and when Hotaru was announced, the comment screen was filled with “Why?” lol

Kaede -> Hotaru: “Hotaru has the most musical experience out of the Inners, and is a pillar to the team.”

Rimo -> Hotaru: “Hotaru’s movement is always sharp and on point, and offers a lot of feedback during rehearsals just like a leader to the others.”

Karen -> Hotaru: “Hotaru is always calm and exercises good judgement, allowing her to unite the team. Really gives off the impression that she transformed from Usagi to Sailor Moon.”

Yume -> Kaede: “I am someone who express herself better with body and hand gesture, and when Kaede is around, Kaede is always able to put what I wants to express into proper words.” Kaede laughed that Yume think she’s Yume’s mouth.

Hotaru -> Kaede: "In an interview, the team’s conversation would always go into different directions, and Kaede is always able to properly summaries what the group says and bring the conversation back. Kaede’s very reliable on such occasions. “

The MC ask if the same reasons apply to their private life/personal dynamic, and Hotaru doubts it because she always gets the group lost. They laughed that when the group doesn’t know where to go, Hotaru is always the first to take the first step towards a direction, and because she looks so confident, everyone just follows.

Q: Who is the most clumsy among the Inner cast? A: Karen and Rimo

Yume -> Rimo: “whenever I hear a “thump”, it has to be Rimo falling over somewhere.”

Karen -> Rimo: “Rimo would suddenly fall over during rehearsals. She would trip over nothing even when they are on a flat platform (lol).”

When the MC ask if Rimo really does fall over that much, Rimo concurs that she does and doesn’t know why. Hotaru adds that whenever Rimo falls, she never tries to break her fall, but reflexively would stretch her arms straight out like the manga’s exaggerated drawings. Often times when Rimo falls, the inners are so used to it they just find it funny instead of being worried, but one time Rimo’s fall got ChibiUsa really worried. Even in her daily life, Rimo falls over quite often. Kaede shared that one time Rimo group called the Inners on Line at 10pm and started crying, which got all of them really worried. Turns out Rimo just fell over and shattered her phone screen, crying and asking the team what to do.

Hotaru -> Karen: “Karen would be holding her bus pass a moment ago, then lose it the next. Would always be going through her purse because she couldn’t find something. Loves to daydream more than anyone.”

Rimo -> Karen: “Karen often says ‘Oh I forgot!’”

MC laughed and pointed out Karen and Rimo both thought the other is an idiot.

Hotaru elaborated that Karen would always forget random, non-important stuff, and lose things that she didn’t really need to have on her – especially Karen often has double the amount of stuff the others carry with themselves.

Q: Who is the most lady-like among the Inner cast? A: Kaede

Karen -> Kaede: “Kaede paints really cute nails. I cannot replicate them.”

Rimo -> Kaede: “She carries a nail clipper with her daily in her pouch, I’m so surprised! I understand it’s important to take good care of one’s nails, but I wouldn’t think to take those supplies with me when I go out. I’m impressed!”

Hotaru -> Kaede: “Kaede really loves cute things. She was really happy when I gave her decorative masking tapes for her birthday.” Hotaru gifted Kaede at least 10 rolls of those artsy mask tapes that are Jupiter-esque, such as with green floral patterns

Yume -> Yume (lol!): “On Valentines Day, I thought everyone would be bringing chocolate for share at rehearsal, so I baked Totoro cookies for everyone. Turns out no one thought to prepare anything, Hotaru even brought a bag of chocolate oat for herself to eat.” Hotaru defended herself she just felt like eating chocolate oat that day. Lol

The group also teased Yume on voting for herself, Hotaru said that Yume’s story is indeed a good evidence, but that’s the “only” evidence to support the claim when Kaede has a bunch. (so savage…)

Q: Who in the inner cast do you want most to be your girlfriend? A: Hotaru (A lot of them put themselves in a “boyfriend” perspective to answer the question…)

Yume -> Hotaru: “I like Hotaru’s honest, straightforward personality. It would be relaxing to be with Hotaru. If I become her boyfriend, I would want to make Hotaru fatter, because she doesn’t get fat no matter how much she eats.” (No, I’m not kidding. This is what Yume said…) Yume complains that she looks chubby when placed beside Hotaru, and Mercury is always placed beside Moon.

Rimo -> Hotaru: “Because Hotaru is really bold and honest, I would feel relaxed if we are dating. She is self-sufficient and confident, she wouldn’t be restrictive so I’d feel comfortable to be with.”

Karen -> Hotaru

Hotaru -> Rimo: “Rimo is an angel.”

Hotaru elaborated whenever she sees white fuzzy things, she thinks of Rimo and wants to get it for her. The group joked that Hotaru and Rimo sounds as if they would actually become a couple, Karen stepped in saying she’d stop it because it’s too dangerous. (?!)

Kaede -> Karen; Kaede mentioned not choosing Hotaru because Hotaru is bold and confident, she feels like she’d “get scolded at for being too slow as a boyfriend”.

Q: Who laughs the most in the Inner cast? A: Yume; a lot of the cast picked both Yume and Karen together

Rimo –> Karen & Yume: “Don’t know if their sense of humor is just low or off, they often started laughing at random moments. Previously when rehearsing a serious scene, those two suddenly started laughing and everyone was like ‘what happened?’”

Yume said that often times she and Karen would make eye contact and that sends them into laughter, which the group pointed out it’s an issue because Mars and Mercury is often paired up in stage blocking. Hotaru shared that the musical’s choreographer had to change one of the choreo in Moonlight Legend because of this.

Yume -> Yume: “Whenever I make eye contact with Karen I’d want to laugh. Mars and Mercury get paired off often in stage blocking and choreography, so I’d start laughing the moment I relax.”

Karen commented saying it’s like telepathy between her and Yume. Hotaru added that whenever these two get together it gets weird. Karen and Kaede said Sayaka (Neptune) has also made the same comment, that no one can get into the conversation when Karen and Yume are together, that they need to be separated.

Hotaru -> Rimo: “When no one is laughing, Rimo would suddenly laugh loudly,” and the group proceeded to try and imitate Rimo’s particular laugh pattern. Hotaru shared that everyone would sometimes smile or let out a little snort-like laugher when reading a book or off their phone, but with Rimo there’s no middle ground, if she laughs it is super loud and obvious. Rimo has no self-awareness that she does that, the group jokes they should try take a video of it next time.

Q: Who is the biggest crybaby among the Inner cast? A: Karen

Everyone voted for Karen in this, including Karen herself.

Karen -> Karen: “Just naturally tears would come out of my eyes.”

Kaede -> Karen: “Would instantly start crying. Feeling happy, she’d cry. Feeling frustrated, she’d cry. When remembering something she cried about, she’d cry again.”

Rimo -> Karen: “At the very start Karen was troubled by her performance, and she’d cry tears of frustrations as she worked hard. That is a strong impression I have of her.”

Hotaru -> Karen: “The first day when we did table-read, Karen cried because of the Producer’s criticism. Eh? She cried just from this?! She already cry loads when I came to realize it. But she’d also come cry with me when I’m feeling sad or troubled. At the end the five of us would all cry together.”

The MC asked when was the most recent time Karen cried, Karen answered she cried at the end of their Hokkairdo performances, which was just two days before the Nico Nico event. Karen also cries when being treated nicely, for example when she’s feeling down, Yume would approach her with a huge smile to cheer her on, Karen would see that and start crying calling out “Yume-tan”.

MC ask if there is someone who can instantly make Karen cry at the moment, the group said Karen would cry if someone reads her a letter or something. The group then elected Rimo to do it, but Rimo turned it into a warm-fuzzy appreciation moment.

Rimo shared a touching story of how she really struggled with her solo Inner Venus song during rehearsals, and the stress and worry carried over to the actual show days, that before that scene she would get so nervous she’d want to cry while waiting off stage. Even though Mars, Jupiter and Mercury’s next entrance is on the opposite side of the stage of where Rimo is, Karen would always make a detour to go to Rimo and give her encouragements to calm her down. Rimo said the gesture really warmed her heart and made her very happy.

Hilariously, Karen couldn’t cry at that moment, but many other people in the audience and Yume were so touched by the story there’s tear pooling up. But… that was only a delayed effect, Karen started crying when they were giving their individual speech to thanks the audience and conclude the event. Hotaru said tissue paper is always readily at hand when you are with Karen.

#sera myu #amour eternal #nomoto hotaru #kobayashi karen #takeuchi yume #hasegawa rimo #kaede #translated content #I'll make the tones of rimo and karen contact later when I have time #but holy crap I am so glad I got to watch this nico nico event #I've been wanting to watch it for so long even if it was raw #also I did not expect Karen to be the crybaby of the group #inner goofballs

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mcauja · 7 years

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Women & Weed... and a baby???

Read that title, take a moment to remove your britches from betwixt your uptight asscheeks, and follow me as I paint this picture for you right quick... January 4, 2017. Just days after naming and claiming my greatness for the year, which included losing that last 15 pounds, going back to school AGAIN, cooling out on flings and meaningless one night stands, and finally obtaining a passport, I sat on the toilet of my closet sized guest bathroom, scared shitless, waiting to see what the twin pregnancy tests I'd taken simultaneously would tell me. "Lol biiiiiiiiiiiitch GUESS WHAT?!" is what those pregnancy tests revealed. Rather quickly, I might add, so there was no time for second guessing. Those pink goddamned lines appeared like a sleazy landlord on the 2nd; posthaste, ready to run my pockets and kill my vibe for the foreseeable future. I was fucking pregnant. Gross. I'm sure most women take those few earth shattering moments afterwards to let the future materialize before them, beginning to dream of a reality they'd never imagined before. Not me. I had a nightcap jay rolled and ready for me before I discovered this new truth because I mean c'mon lol no way, right? RIGHT?! Wrong. So I take my few deep breaths, text my best friend and tell her that she needs to fix this because yeah NO, and I clomp back to my room in a stupor as muscle memory leads me directly to my ashtray where the fresh blunt is waiting; calling. Whenever things in my life go awry, all I need is a little time, a little space to think, and a little bud and I can fix or fineness anything. But just as I'm about to blaze the stress away, I could feel myself developing a little white angel on my shoulder. "You're pregnant Auja, that's bad for the baby dumbass." "Oh yeah, I forgot... Fuck." I smoked a little anyway tho because fuck that little white useless ass angel. Where was she when my uterus was being infiltrated?! Why didn't she tell me to swallow instead?!?! Stupid bitch, I hate that angel. February 9, 2017. It's been a few weeks since I realized I was harboring a squatter in my womb and life has flipped upside down. It's as if my body was waiting for me to catch up to what was happening before shit could really start happening. Mere days after those God forsaken pink lines appeared, morning noon and night sickness followed suit, with intense all day nausea bringing up the rear. I'd made a doctors appointment immediately and on the day of, while filling out the bullshit paperwork, I find myself once again stuck and scared shitless. "How often do you: consume caffeine, drink alcohol, smoke cigarettes, partake in recreational drug use?" Oh shit. Should I lie???? I should lie right?? I mean I didn't even do any of that other stuff before so I'm good. And it's not like they'll know anyway; I've stopped since I found out so it's not like I would really be lying. "Oh we'll also need a urine sample in just a second" FUCK!!!!! Okay, just tell the truth then. Fuck. And so I did. The Gods honest, "every damn day, at least twice a day." truth. Would this doctor call the imaginary pregnancy police on me? Would she look over the rim of her glasses and judge me as if I'd stabbed a white woman multiple times and was about to get away with it?! Would everyone pretend it's all good then on the day of my delivery, CPS shows up and rips my beautiful baby from my arms without bothering to cut the umbilical cord?!? I had completely went on auto pilot and panic mode while Dr. Nice White Lady went through the questionnaire with me, dreading that moment we'd have to discuss my hophead tendencies. "I see here it says you used drugs before pregnancy..." "Yes but only weed" "Well while we can't encourage or discourage that, I do have to inform you that it could possibly affect the baby" *inner dialogue* "DUH bitch that's why I stop-- hold up... did she just say she can't DISCOURAGE me from sparking up??" *Bitch ass angel refusing to mind her business* "Yeah but she can't ENCOURAGE you either dumbass" "1) call me dumbass again and see what happens. 2) nobody ever ENCOURAGES smoking weed but other weed heads. She's a doctor, she basically just told me roll up at my own risk..." "No, that's not what she sai--" "Aaaaahhhh!! Unt-un shut yo ass up, I ain't tryna hear it. You already know what's up!!!" And she did. My stupid shoulder angel I mean, not Dr. Nice White Lady. She knew what I'd been suffering through, but, you, reading this, may have no idea what pregnancy does to women. Each instance is different. All the forums and mom blogs I scoured for slivers of peace and sanity would reiterate this time and again. Most often they tell you to ask your doctor about these things, but your doctor will more than likely bullshit you then prescribe a drug you can't roll up and smoke, but a drug nonetheless. A drug that might make you a little LESS nauseous, but would not keep you from retching up the food you just ate 10 minutes ago. Some days it can be so bad, water won't stay put. You ever thrown up ice cold water??? Spoiler alert, that shit comes back just as cold and it's fucking disgusting. I took to eating Bomb Pops because supposedly popsicles soothe the stomach and help fight against dehydrating yourself and your unborn child but in my case it just made for patriotic toilet decorations. Can't even lie tho, it was kinda cool watching the red white and blue come up in the exact same order as it had gone down. Gross, right? Lol And it's not just stomach issues us preggers have to endure. The sleepless nights, the aches and pains of a body growing and changing to accommodate new life, the mood swings, the anxiety. THE ANXIETY OMG. As it stands, at 4 months I should be gaining about 1-2 pounds per week. I am currently 5 pounds lighter than I was when I first found out about my baby. I worry CONSTANTLY I'm not feeding it enough; that the lil guy(or girl, please be a girl) isn't getting the proper nutrition. That I'm a shit mom because I can't seem to do this without weed. But I mean gahdamn what's a woman to do?? Liquids don't hold and sometimes even just the sight or smell of food while sober makes me dry heave. I search google every day looking for new developments and studies that will assuage my guilt. I don't have to look very hard, almost all weed/pregnancy related studies conclude there isn't enough evidence to surely say weed will harm a fetus, but science can't ever let you have your moment so the "That doesn't mean it's okay" undertones are always there. The judgement I'm sure I'd receive from family and certain friends worries me, and every appointment I have with Dr. Nice White Lady, I fear the lecture I'm sure she's holding onto. But at days end, as I puff puff then take my prenatal vitamin, I can't help but feel a little indignant. My body, my baby, my bud, right?! If things are okay, then I should keep doing what works right?? I heard it's healthy heartbeat and witnessed Baby Big Heads growth in the sonogram. It's recently started to move around in there and it feels like gnarly gas lol I gladly welcome the morning vomit because that means my lil shorty is still alive and kickin. Afterwards I toke up and eat a hearty breakfast and then lunch and sometimes even dinner. I drink way more water than I ever have and make sure I'm getting all my fruit and veggie servings. As it stands, I'm living and self caring better than I ever have before, and my kid is all the better for it. What harm will a little session do, ya know?? Peace and blessings.

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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Trump just looked up to the sky and said “I am the chosen one.” A reminder that he’s completely insane, and unfit for office in every way. #25thAmendmentNow

When I heard Trump proclaim himself "The Chosen One" today my first thought was chosen by who, Putin?

Far-Right Dark Money Interests?

Evangelical Christians?

White Supremacists?

Fox News?

Because he defintely wasn't chosen by America...

#25thAmendmentNow

His Ego Bruised by Denmark, Trump Flashes God Complex: ‘I Am the Chosen One’

His dreams of Greenland conquest dashed, Trump re-imagines himself a messiah

By TIM DICKINSON | Published August 21, 2019 3:55 PM ET | RollingStone |

Posted August 22, 2019 12:29 PM ET |

To mangle Twain, it’s better to remain silent and be thought a malignant narcissist than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.

“I am the chosen one,” Donald Trumpdeclared to reporters Wednesday on the White House lawn, looking toward the heavens.

The president was reflecting on his trade war with China, insisting that it should have been launched long ago to curb what he characterized as China’s theft of our wealth and intellectual property. “Somebody had to do it,” Trump insisted.

In another context, one might excuse the quip as mere puffery. But in the case of Trump, the president’s pathological narcissism appears to metastasizing into a messiah complex.

Earlier Wednesday morning the president tweeted out unhinged praise of his Middle East policies from the self-styled “conservative warrior” Wayne Allyn Root. Root, a Newsmax personality, dwells in the fever swamps, promoting birtherism and conspiracy theories around the death of Seth Rich. In the immediate aftermath of the Las Vegas concert shooting he tweeted, without evidence, that the massacre was “clearly coordinated Muslim terror attack.”

In a Twitter thread, Trump quoted Root at length calling the him “the greatest President for the Jews” and even the “King of Israel.”

The president’s gusher of god-complex grandiosity has followed, predictably, in the wake of an ego-damaging exchange with the Prime Minister of Denmark — who laughed off Trump’s unhinged ambition for the United States to buy Greenland from the Scandinavian nation as “absurd.”

Mette Frederiksen, visiting Greenland this week, told reporters that “of course, Greenland is not for sale,” adding that “thankfully the time where you buy and sell other countries and populations and is over. Let’s leave it there.” Frederiksen added that “jokes aside,” Denmark would like a closer relationship with the United States.

Ever thin skinned, especially when it comes to criticism from powerful women, Trump responded petulantly Tuesday night by tweeting that he’d be cancelling a planned meeting with Frederiksen: SEE TWEET ON TRUMP TIME LINE

On Wednesday Trump made clear just how shaken he’d been by the dashing of his dream of Arctic conquest, calling Frederiksen “nasty” — a outburst of misogyny typically reserved for Hillary Clinton. “I thought it was a very not nice way of saying something,” Trump explained to reporters. “All they had to do is say, no, we’d rather not do that or we’d rather not talk about it.”

“She’s not talking to me, she’s talking to the United States of America,” he added, explaining his umbrage. “They can’t say ‘how absurd.’”

Watching Trump these past 24 hours, swinging between grievance and grandiosity, have been like a playing a game of DSM bingo for “narcissistic personality disorder,” the diagnosis of which requires a match of only five of the following nine character traits:

1. Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements).

2. Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love.

3. Believes that he or she is “special” and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high status people (or institutions).

4. Requires excessive admiration.

5. Has a sense of entitlement, i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations.

6. Is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends.

7. Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others.

8. Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her.

9. Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes.

For more on the president’s dangerous self regard, read my colleague Alex Morris’ ever-timely feature on Trump’s preening and perilous mental health.

Trump’s Mental Health: Is Pathological Narcissism the Key to Trump’s Behavior?

Diagnosing the president was off-limits to experts – until a textbook case entered the White House

By ALEX MORRIS | Published April 5, 2017 12:30 PM ET | RollingStone | Posted August 22, 2019 12:35 PM ET|

At 6:35 a.m. on the morning of March 4th, President Donald Trump did what no U.S. president has ever done: He accused his predecessor of spying on him. He did so over Twitter, providing no evidence and – lest anyone miss the point – doubling down on his accusation in tweets at 6:49, 6:52 and 7:02, the last of which referred to Obama as a “Bad (or sick) guy!” Six weeks into his presidency, these unsubstantiated tweets were just one of many times the sitting president had rashly made claims that were (as we soon learned) categorically untrue, but it was the first time since his inauguration that he had so starkly drawn America’s integrity into the fray. And he had done it not behind closed doors with a swift call to the Department of Justice, but instead over social media in a frenzy of ire and grammatical errors. If one hadn’t been asking the question before, it was hard not to wonder: Is the president mentally ill?

It’s now abundantly clear that Trump’s behavior on the campaign trail was not just a “persona” he used to get elected – that he would not, in fact, turn out to be, as he put it, “the most presidential person ever, other than possibly the great Abe Lincoln, all right?” It took all of 24 hours to show us that the Trump we elected was the Trump we would get when, despite the fact that he was president, that he had won, he spent that first full day in office focused not on the problems facing our country but on the problems facing him: his lackluster inauguration attendance and his inability to win the popular vote.

Since Trump first announced his candidacy, his extreme disagreeableness, his loose relationship with the truth and his trigger-happy attacks on those who threatened his dominance were the worrisome qualities that launched a thousand op-eds calling him “unfit for office,” and led to ubiquitous armchair diagnoses of “crazy.” We had never seen a presidential candidate behave in such a way, and his behavior was so abnormal that one couldn’t help but try to fit it into some sort of rubric that would help us understand. “Crazy” kind of did the trick.

And yet, the one group that could weigh in on Trump’s sanity, or possible lack thereof, was sitting the debate out – for an ostensibly good reason. In 1964, Lyndon B. Johnson had foreshadowed the 2016 presidential election by suggesting his opponent, Barry Goldwater, was too unstable to be in control of the nuclear codes, even running an ad to that effect that remains one of the most controversial in the history of American politics. In a survey for Fact magazine, more than 2,000 psychiatrists weighed in, many of them seeing pathology in Goldwater’s supposed potty-training woes, in his supposed latent homosexuality and in his Cold War paranoia. This was back in the Freudian days of psychiatry, when any odd-duck characteristic was fair game for psychiatric dissection, before the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders cleaned house and gave a clear set of criteria (none of which includes potty training, by the way) for a limited number of possible disorders. Goldwater lost the election, sued Fact and won his suit. The American Psychiatric Association was so embarrassed that  it instituted the so-called Goldwater Rule, stating that it is “un ethical for a psychiatrist to offer a professional opinion unless he or she has conducted an examination” of the person under question.

All the same, as Trump’s candidacy snowballed, many in the mental-health community, observing what they believed to be clear signs of pathology, bristled at the limitations of the Goldwater guidelines. “It seems to function as a gag rule,” says Claire Pouncey, a psychiatrist who co-authored a paper in The Journal of the American Academy of Psychiatry and Law, which argued that upholding Goldwater “inhibits potentially valuable educational efforts and psychiatric opinions about potentially dangerous public figures.” Many called on the organizations that traffic in the psychological well-being of Americans – like the American Psychiatric Association, the American Psychological Association, the National Association of Social Workers and the American Psychoanalytic Association – to sound an alarm. “A lot of us were working as hard as we could to try to get organizations to speak out during the campaign,” says Lance Dodes, a psychoanalyst and former professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School. “I mean, there was certainly a sense that somebody had to speak up.” But none of the organizations wanted to violate the Goldwater Rule. And anyway, Dodes continues, “Most of the pollsters said he would not be elected. So even though there was a lot of worry, people reassured themselves that nothing would come of this.”

But of course, something did come of it, and so on February 13th, Dodes and 34 other psychiatrists, psychologists and social workers published a letter in The New York Times stating that “Mr. Trump’s speech and actions make him incapable of safely serving as president.” As Dodes tells me, “This is not a policy matter at all. It is continuous behavior that the whole country can see that indicates specific kinds of limitations, or problems in his mind. So to say that those people who are most expert in human psychology can’t comment on it is nonsensical.” In their letter, the mental health experts did not go so far as to proffer a diagnosis, but the affliction that has gotten the most play in the days since is a form of narcissism so extreme that it affects a person’s ability to function: narcissistic personality disorder.

The most current iteration of the DSM classifies narcissistic personality disorder as: “A pervasive pattern of grandiosity (in fantasy or behavior), need for admiration, and lack of empathy, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts.” A diagnosis would also require five or more of the following traits:

1. Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., “Nobody builds walls better than me”; “There’s nobody that respects women more than I do”; “There’s nobody who’s done so much for equality as I have”).

2. Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty or ideal love (“I alone can fix it”; “It’s very hard for them to attack me on looks, because I’m so good-looking”).

3. Believes that he or she is “special” and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people or institutions (“Part of the beauty of me is that I’m very rich”).

4. Requires excessive admiration (“They said it was the biggest standing ovation since Peyton Manning had won the Super Bowl”).

5. Has a sense of entitlement (“When you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab them by the pussy”).

6. Is interpersonally exploitative (see above).

7. Lacks empathy, is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others (“He’s not a war hero . . . he was captured. I like people that weren’t captured”).

8. Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her (“I’m the president, and you’re not”).

9. Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes (“I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose any voters”).

NPD was first introduced as a personality disorder by the DSM in 1980 and affects up to six percent of the U.S. population. It is not a mood state but rather an ingrained set of traits, a programming of the brain that is thought to arise in childhood as a result of parenting that either puts a child on a pedestal and superficially inflates the ego or, conversely, withholds approval and requires the child to single-handedly build up his or her own ego to survive. Either way, this impedes the development of a realistic sense of self and instead fosters a “false self,” a grandiose narrative of one’s own importance that needs constant support and affirmation – or “narcissistic supply” – to ward off an otherwise prevailing sense of emptiness. Of all personality disorders, NPD is among the least responsive to treatment for the obvious reason that narcissists typically do not, or cannot, admit that they are flawed.

Trump’s childhood seems to suggest a history of “pedestal” parenting. “You are a king,” Fred  Trump told his middle child, while  also teaching him that the world  was an unforgiving place and that  it was important to “be a killer.” Trump apparently got the message: He reportedly threw rocks  at a neighbor’s baby and bragged  about punching a music teacher in  the face. Other kids from his well- heeled Queens neighborhood of Jamaica Estates were forbidden from playing with him, and in school  he got detention so often that it  was nicknamed “DT,” for “Donny Trump.” When his father found  his collection of switchblades, he  sent Donald upstate to New York Military Academy, where he could be controlled while also remaining aggressively alpha male. “I think his father would have fit the category [of narcissistic],” says Michael D’Antonio, author of The Truth About Trump. “I think his mother probably would have. And I even think his paternal grandfather did as well. These are very driven, very ambitious people.”

Viewed through the lens of pathology, Trump’s behavior – from military-school reports that he was too competitive to have close friends to his recent impromptu press conference, where he seemed to revel in the hour and a half he spent center stage, spouting paranoia and insults – can be seen as a constant quest for narcissistic supply. Certainly few have gone after fame (a veritable conveyor belt of narcissistic supply) with such single-mindedness as Trump, constantly upping the ante to gain more exposure. Not content with being the heir apparent of his father’s vast outer-borough fortune, he spent his twenties moving the Trump Organization into the spotlight of Manhattan, where his buildings needed to be the biggest, the grandest, the tallest (in the pursuit of which he skipped floors in the numbering to make them seem higher). Not content to inflict the city with a succession of eyesores bearing his name in outsize letters, he had to buy up more Atlantic City casinos than anyone else, as well as a fleet of 727s (which he also slapped with his name) and the world’s third-biggest yacht (despite professing to not like boats). Meanwhile, to make sure that none of this escaped notice, he sometimes pretended to be his own publicist, peppering the press with unsolicited information about his business conquests and his sexual prowess. “The most florid demonstration of [his narcissism] was around the sex scandal that ended his first marriage,” says D’Antonio. “He just did so many things to call more attention to it that it was hard to not recognize that there’s something very strange going on.” (The White House declined to comment for this article.)

Based on the “Big Five” traits that psychologists consider to be the building blocks of personality – extroversion, agreeableness, openness, conscientiousness and neuroticism – the stamp of a narcissist is someone who scores extremely high in extroversion but extremely low in agreeableness. From his business entanglements to his preference for the rally format, Trump’s way of putting himself out in the world is not meant to make friends; it’s meant to assert his dominance. The reported fear and trembling among his White House staff aligns well with his long-standing habit of hiring two people for the same job and letting them battle it out for his favor. His tendency to hire women was spun as a sign of enlightenment on the campaign trail, but those who’ve worked with him sensed that it had more to do with finding women less threatening than men (a reason that’s also been posited as to why Ivanka is his favorite child). Trump has a lengthy record of stiffing his workers and dodging his creditors. And nothing could be more disagreeable than the way he’s dealt with detractors over the years, filing hundreds of frivolous lawsuits, sending scathing letters (like the one he sent to New York Times columnist Gail Collins with her photo covered by the words “The face of a dog!”), and, once it was invented, using Twitter as an instrument of malice that could provide immediate narcissistic supply via comments and retweets. In fact, while studies have found that Twitter and other social-media outlets do not actually foster narcissism, they have turned much of the Internet into a narcissist’s playground, providing immediate gratification for someone who needs a public and instantaneous way to build up their false self.

That Americans weren’t put off by this disagreeableness may have come as a surprise, but in a country that has turned its political process into a glorified celebrity marketing campaign, it probably shouldn’t have. America was founded on the principles of individualism and independence, and studies have shown that the most individualistic nations are, predictably, the most narcissistic. But studies have also shown that America has been getting more narcissistic since the Seventies, which saw the publication of Tom Wolfe’s seminal “Me Decade” article and Christopher Lasch’s The Culture of Narcissism. In 2008, the National Institutes of Health released the most comprehensive study of NPD to date and found that almost one out of 10 Americans in their twenties had displayed behaviors consistent with NPD, versus only one in 30 of those over 65. Another study found narcissistic traits to be rising as quickly as obesity, while yet another showed that almost one-third of high school students in America in 2005 said that they expected to eventually become famous. “If there were no Kardashians, there would be no President Donald Trump,” says Keith Campbell, a professor of psychology at the University of Georgia who co-authored the book The Narcissism Epidemic. “And Trump decided to do it Kardashian-style, with no filter. When Trump and Kanye had that meeting in Trump Tower, I was like, ‘I should just quit. My work here is done.'” 

Still, Campbell would not label Trump with NPD. A final DSM criterion for the disease is that it must cause “significant” distress or impairment, which has been a sticking point for many mental-health professionals. “He’s a billionaire who’s president of the United States,” points out Campbell. “He’s functioning pretty highly.”

Others maintain that making diagnoses without a formal interview is not just unethical, but impossible – that the public actions of a public persona may not align with who that person is when they’re alone at home. After Dodes’ op-ed appeared in the Times, Allen Frances, the psychiatrist who wrote the NPD criteria for the DSMIV, followed up with a letter to the editor the very next day, arguing that it was unfair and insulting to the mentally ill to lump them with someone like Trump, and that doing so would give the president a pass he doesn’t deserve. “No one is denying that he is as narcissistic an individual as one is ever likely to encounter,” Frances tells me. “But we tend to equate bad behavior with mental illness, and that makes us less able to deal with the bad behavior on its own terms.”

Others have been less circumspect, implying that if the DSM wouldn’t diagnose someone like Trump with NPD, then maybe it’s the DSM that’s wrong. “It’s just that one pesky impairment thing,” says Josh Miller, Campbell’s colleague and a professor and director of the clinical training program at the University of Georgia who specializes in psychopathy and narcissism. “Maybe the DSM isn’t thinking about this in exactly the right way by ignoring when something causes such widespread problems to those around them.” More specifically, Miller believes that Trump’s wealth could have shielded him from impairment that would otherwise be more pronounced. “He gets to present himself as an incredible businessman despite multiple bankruptcies, despite lots of signs that he is not as astute or as successful as he might be otherwise,” Miller says. “We might know more about his relational functioning if his ex-wives didn’t sign the sort of thing where getting a nice sum of money from a divorce is contingent upon not discussing the person’s behavior. He’s able to keep sycophants around him because of his money. If he was your average politician, it might be that the impairment would be much, much more apparent.”

At the very least, the growing debate over Trump’s mental health raises the question of what having an NPD president would mean. “I hated President Bush, but it never occurred to me or any of my colleagues that he was mentally ill,” says John Gartner, a psychologist who taught in the department of psychiatry at Johns Hopkins University Medical School for 28 years and who has been one of the most vocal critics of upholding the Goldwater Rule in this case, going so far as to say that Trump suffers from “malignant narcissism,” a term for the triumvirate of narcissistic, paranoid and antisocial personality disorders (with a little sadism thrown in for good measure) that was invented to describe what was wrong with Hitler. “Even though I disagree with everything he believes in, I would be immensely relieved to have a President Pence,” Gartner says. “Because he’s conservative. Not crazy.”

Of course, having a mental illness, in and of itself, wouldn’t necessarily make Trump unqualified for the presidency. A 2006 study published in the Journal of Nervous & Mental Disease found that 18 of the first 37 presidents met criteria for having a psychiatric disorder, from depression (24 percent) and anxiety (eight percent) to alcoholism (eight percent) and bipolar disorder (eight percent). Ten of them exhibited symptoms while in office, and one of those 10 was arguably our best president, Abraham Lincoln, who suffered from deep depression (though, considering the death of his son and the state of the nation, who could blame him?).

The problem is that, when it comes to leadership, all pathologies are not created equal. Some, like depression, though debilitating, do not typically lead to psychosis or risky decision-making and are mainly unpleasant only for the person suffering them, as well as perhaps for their close friends and family. Others, like alcoholism, can be more dicey: In 1969, Nixon got so sloshed that he ordered a nuclear attack against North Korea (in anticipation of just such an event, his defense secretary had supposedly warned the military not to act on White House orders without approval from either himself or the secretary of state).

When it comes to presidents, and perhaps all politicians, some level of narcissism is par for the course. Based on a 2013 study of U.S. presidents from Washington to George W. Bush, many of our chief executives with narcissistic traits shared what is called “emergent leadership,” or a keen ability to get elected. They can be charming and charismatic. They dominate. They entertain. They project strength and confidence. They’re good at convincing people, at least initially, that they actually are as awesome as they think they are. (Despite what a narcissist might believe, research shows they are usually no better-looking, more intelligent or talented than the average person – though when they are, their narcissism is better tolerated.) In fact, a narcissist’s brash leadership has been shown to be particularly attractive in times of perceived upheaval, which means that it benefits a narcissist to promote ideas of chaos and to identify a common enemy, or, if need be, create one. “They’re going to want attention, and they’re going to get attention by making big public changes and having bold leadership,” says Campbell. “So if things are going well, a narcissistic leader’s probably not what you want. If things aren’t going well, you’re like, ‘Eh, let’s roll the dice. Let’s get this person out there to just make some big changes and shake things up.’ And then we pray to God it works.”

It doesn’t always. Ironically, for a man who ran on the platform to ”Make America Great Again,” narcissists may have a better chance of getting elected when things are going poorly, but they actually appear to perform better when things are going well – and they can take the credit. One of the questions on the Narcissistic Personality Inventory, which is used to assess narcissistic personality traits, asks respondents to choose between two statements: (1) The thought of ruling the world frightens the hell out of me, and (2) If I ruled the world, it would be a better place. Narcissists obviously tend to pick the latter, but that overconfidence actually works against them: One of the highest predictors of success is conscientiousness, but if you think you’re already the best, then why would you bother to take the time to get better? It’s easier, instead, to point fingers. “Narcissistic people externalize blame,” says Miller. “I mean, Trump’s going to fire [Sean] Spicer, and then it’s going to be the Cabinet. When is he going to say, ‘I should have read that more carefully. I should have taken more time to know what this treaty was’? That is not part of a narcissistic individual’s makeup, to assume responsibility for their own missteps.”

Despite the obvious risks, having a narcissistic president doesn’t always end in disaster. “Democracy’s always based in trying to work through conflict,” says Sean Wilentz, a professor of history at Princeton and contributor to Rolling Stone. “And a person who has a dominant personality sometimes can actually be very effective.” LBJ, who scored the highest in that study that ranked the narcissistic tendencies of U.S. presidents, had the aggressiveness necessary to push through the Civil Rights Act, but he also didn’t (or wouldn’t) do an about-face to get the country out of Vietnam. When a group of reporters pressed him for an explanation of this, he reportedly unzipped his pants, pulled out his penis and declared, “This is why.”

Likewise, Andrew Jackson, who ranked third, was considered the nation’s first demagogue – a rabble-rouser who fought at least a dozen duels throughout his life, who contemporaries thought would trash the White House with his unruly mob, and whose “jackass” tendencies were the inspiration for the symbol of the Democratic Party – but he paid off the national debt and pushed the nation’s expansion westward (though his Indian Removal Act led to the deaths of tens of thousands along the Trail of Tears).

“Narcissistic leaders are really good and bad, meaning that they often get a lot done, but they’re also viewed as ethically challenged,” says Campbell. Meanwhile, “nice guy” presidents like Jimmy Carter are well-liked, but they aren’t viewed as particularly potent.

So how might Trump measure up? According to the 2013 study, while run-of-the-mill narcissism conveyed some benefits, NPD traits usually did not, and were furthermore “related to numerous indicators of negative performance: having impeachment resolutions brought up in Congress, facing impeachment proceedings, placing political success over effective policy, and behaving unethically.” Nixon, probably our most unethical president, was ranked second in the study, but even he knew to conduct attacks covertly. His form of narcissism was more adaptive, more Machiavellian. In fact, many narcissists see the world as a chess game in which they must think ahead in order to maintain the advantage they feel they deserve. For this reason, impulsivity is not considered a classic trait of narcissism. Trump’s obvious rashness, then, allows for an unfortunate combination of traits. “The impulsivity and the lack of deliberate forethought about things,” warns Miller, “paired with the overconfidence, are the most troubling parts for me.”

Another problem for narcissists on the more extreme end of the spectrum is that the skills needed to get elected are not, and have never been, identical to the skills needed to govern. “Just because you get a big job doesn’t mean that you can’t have a psychiatric disability that interferes with your ability to confidently perform it,” points out Gartner. Individuals with NPD are notoriously bad at regulating their behavior or tailoring it to the situation at hand. “Every situation feels like a competition to win,” explains Aaron Pincus, a professor of psychology at Penn State who researches pathological narcissism. “Every situation feels like a stage in which to show people that ‘I’m superior, better, and they’re going to admire me for it.'” As former Democratic Congressman Barney Frank describes his impression of Trump, “I have never seen anybody in public life so focused exclusively on the trivial aspects of his own persona. I certainly have never seen anything like it in a person with a lot of responsibility.”

This makes narcissists particularly vulnerable to sycophants, or at least those who feed their narcissistic supply by telling them what they want to hear. Whether Steve Bannon actually is the evil mastermind he’s been made out to be doesn’t change the fact that even Republicans seem wary of Trump’s susceptibility to him. Unelected officials gaining power through a destabilizing characteristic of a mental disorder is the sort of thing our political system was set up to combat. “It’s a sign, actually, of how severely we need functioning parties,” Wilentz says. “Because when they work, they are in fact a check on the emergence of this kind of character. You can’t get where Trump is now in a functioning party system. It took this particular political crisis, which was a political crisis, to produce a president who has this trait. Normally, we can weed them out.”

For many in the mental-health field, the most troubling aspect of Trump’s personality is his loose grasp of fact and fiction. When narcissism veers into NPD, it can lead to delusions, an alternate reality where the narcissist remains on top despite clear evidence to the contrary. “He’s extremely quick, like nanoseconds quick, to discern anything that could conceivably threaten his dominance,” says biographer Gwenda Blair, who wrote The Trumps: Three Generations of Builders and a President. “He’s on it. Anything that he senses – and he has very sharp senses – that could suggest that he is anything except 200 percent total winner, he’s got to stomp it out immediately. So having those reports, for example, that he did not win the popular vote? He can’t take that in. There has to be another explanation. It has to have been stolen. It has to have been some illegal voters. It can’t be the case that he lost. That’s not thinkable.”

But having verifiable facts be “unthinkable” is, Dodes explains, “a serious impairment of what we call ‘reality  testing,’ so it creates an obvious risk for somebody whose job it is to gather information and  make decisions. It creates an inability to know  where you have gone wrong because you can’t let yourself self-correct by hearing contrary evidence.” This is particularly true when the information is viewed as an ego blow, which goes a long way toward explaining Trump’s first day in office, his blustering assertions of superiority, the speed with which he turns on former allies, and his selection of a wealthy and inexperienced Cabinet – a so-called narcissistic bubble from which anyone or anything that questions his dominance is ejected.

“When it comes to negative information about themselves, narcissists devalue it and they denigrate it and they don’t accept it,” says Pincus. “They’ll push it away, they’ll distort it, they’ll blame it on somebody else, they’ll lie about it, because they need to see that superior, ideal image of themselves, and they can’t tolerate the idea that they have any flaws or imperfections or somebody else might be better than them at something.” This not only means that Trump has no qualms about lying (a PolitiFact tally of candidates’ statements during the 2016 campaign found that only 2.5 percent of the claims made by Trump were wholly true and that 78 percent were mostly false, false or “pants on fire”), but it also means that he will continue to cater to his minority base, which, Pincus continues, “happen to have his ear and tell him he’s great. Then he’s shocked when courts and states have a different opinion, and he has to denigrate the courts and the states rather than question his own position.” It means that he will continually recast negative events in his favor: “All four corporate bankruptcies, were they a sign of failure for him during the debates?” asks Blair. “No, they were a sign he was smart.” And he will continue to double-down on delusions, like having been wiretapped by Obama, despite all evidence to the contrary.

That’s what concerns Wilentz. “We’ve had some very troubled presidents in our past, but their troubles are things like alcoholism, paranoia, you know, sort of garden-variety psychological maladies,” he tells me. “This is different. This shows a dissociation from reality. We just haven’t seen anything like this before.” Gartner’s take is even more pointed: “He’s acting crazy, and he’s mad that other people aren’t seeing and believing what he’s making up in his own head.”

This dissociation from reality, paired with Trump’s knee-jerk need to assert his dominance, has led many mental-health professionals to feel that, no matter what the specific diagnosis, the traits themselves are enough to render Trump unfit for office, and that a shrink’s “duty to warn” overrides the Goldwater Rule in this instance. “Psychiatrically, this is the worst-case scenario,” says Gartner. “If Trump were one step sicker, no one would listen to him. If he were wearing a tinfoil hat, if he were that grotesquely ill, he wouldn’t be a threat. But instead, he’s the most severe and toxic form of mental illness that can actually still function. I mean, in his first week in office, he threatened to invade Mexico, Iran and Chicago. And thank God someone finally stood up to Australia, you know? Glad someone had the balls to put them in their place.”

Indeed, it was Gartner’s fear that “Trump is truly someone who can start a war over Twitter” that led him to start a petition on January 26th that called on mental-health professionals to “Declare Trump Is Mentally Ill and Must Be Removed,” invoking Section 4 of the 25th Amendment to the Constitution, which states that the president should be replaced if he is “unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office.” Gartner’s petition currently has 40,947 signatures. Congresswoman Karen Bass’ petition, #DiagnoseTrump, has 36,743.

Not that any of these petitions are likely to make a difference. In order for Section 4 to be invoked, Congress or the vice president along with a majority of Trump’s handpicked Cabinet would have to call for his removal, which has never happened under any presidency. And even if Trump did something that warranted impeachment, 25 Republicans in the House would have to break ranks to pass the resolution on to the Senate, where two-thirds of that body would have to condemn him, meaning that no fewer than 19 Senate Republicans would need to vote in favor of an ouster. Many of those Republicans come from districts where #MAGA is practically gospel, meaning that these numbers are not just daunting, they’re all but unthinkable.

On June 29th, 1999, Trump gave a eulogy at his father’s funeral at Marble Collegiate Church in Manhattan. Others spoke of their memories of Fred Trump and his legacy as a man who had built solid, middle-class homes for thousands of New Yorkers. But his middle son, according to most accounts, used the time to talk about his own accomplishments and to make it clear that, in his mind, his father’s best achievement was producing him, Donald.

Presidents unite nations under narratives of what they stand for, whether true or false. But a president with NPD would stand for nothing but himself, offering no narrative other than the “false self” he created. An NPD president would expect Americans to go along with his rhetoric and ignore that behind the self-aggrandizing, the unyielding drive for more and more confirmation of the myth of his own greatness, he may only have his own emptiness to offer. “‘We’re going to do this thing, it’s going to be fantastic, amazing,'” Pincus paraphrases. “But there’s no substance to what he says. How are you going to do that? How is that going to be achieved?”

The answer is we don’t know. The White House leaks portray an angry man who wanted to become president, but never really wanted to be president. Trump may have stormed into the Oval Office poised to make sweeping changes, but unlike LBJ or Jackson or even Nixon, he doesn’t have the political expertise or historical perspective to see the long game. The rumblings in Congress suggest widespread fears that Trump will view policy through the prism of pathology rather than in any rational, methodological, bipartisan way. So far, as Barney Frank points out, even with a Republican House and Senate, “Trump hasn’t done very much.” His immigration bans have been blocked, his budget has been ridiculed, and his rage against the GOP to repeal and replace Obamacare, or else (and with a plan that would take health care away from millions of Americans while making it more expensive for most of the rest of us), turned into nothing more than a game of chicken – which he lost – with House Republicans. “Trump’s time horizon with regard to things that affect him appears to be about 13 minutes,” Frank says. “There is an inverse relationship between people who are more focused on how things affect them personally than on public policy and their effectiveness in Congress. You can’t work with those people.”

If Trump does have NPD, and the setbacks to his agenda keep coming, his magical thinking about the limitlessness of his power will only continue to clash with reality, and many in the mental-health field believe that would only exacerbate the problem. “I think we’re actually looking at a deteriorating situation,” says Gartner. “I think he’s going more crazy.” As Dodes’ letter to The New York Times states, Trump’s attacks against “facts and those who convey them … are likely to increase, as his personal myth of greatness appears to be confirmed.” Still, no matter how monumentally he fails in the next four years, says biographer Gwenda Blair, “there’s no doubt he’s going to think he’s done a great job. That isn’t even open to question.”

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pgoeltz · 5 years

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6 questions on Neoliberalism und alternatives

Noam Chomsky answers to Michael Albert’s questions

ZNetCommentary 30.9.2001

Michael Albert: I sent six questions to Noam Chomsky. His answers, by email, are below.

After a little while, the message apparently got through to the Bush administration, which has -- wisely from their point of view -- chosen to follow a different course.

M. A.: (5) If the Taliban falls and bin Laden or someone they claim is responsible is captured or killed, what next? What happens to Afghanistan? What happens more broadly in other regions?

Beyond the truisms, we turn to specific questions, for inquiry and for action.

From ZNet: http://www.zmag.org/55qaframe.htm

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