#like. the increasing awareness of it. the increasing introduction of rules to make sure i CONTINUE to be aware of it and act accordingly.

[finalgirlgretchen]

this doesn't. feel the same as the other rough periods i've gone through before.

[taiblogcomics]

Muddying the Waters

Hey there, unrelenting accrual of clowns. Let's do some Countdown this fine summer's day, huh?

Here's the cover:

…Oh. Well. Pretty sure I've seen art like this on DeviantArt. Like, a lot of art like this. But regardless! Maybe it'll at least sell this issue to folks with that fetish. I dunno! I've occasionally bought a comic coz I have the hots for whatever superheroine's on the cover (usually Rogue). Maybe it works for other fetishes too! Anyways, of course it's clay because it mentions Clayface in the blurb down there (which is not included in the trade I'm reading from, by the way), but personally I think it looks more like chocolate pudding. Again, not my fetish, but if it's yours, does chocolate pudding increase the appeal more or less than clay~?

Okay, new recap rule: If a character appears on the cover, I should mention them first. Unless otherwise for theming purposes. So Mary Marvel is stuck with Black Adam's powers and also in Clayface. Jason Todd and Donna Troy have been stuck with locating Ray Palmer. Pied Piper and Trickster are stuck together after killing the Flash. Karate Kid is stuck in the past in the JLA's custody. Jimmy Olsen is stuck on how to use his powers for good. And Holly Robinson is stuck in a women's shelter after going on the run. And we're stuck reading this for another 42 weeks~

Okay, so you remember how last time, I ended by being all "I'm counting Bart's death as this series' fault even though technically it didn't happen in this comic"? Yeah, so this issue opens with a graphic recreation of the Rogues' murder of Bart Allen. That's a lovely way to open a comic. I bet all the quicksand fetishists who picked up this issue for the cover really regret it now, and so do I! And it doesn't matter that this is quickly revealed to be a nightmare that Trickster's having, that doesn't absolve it of depicting it!

Pied Piper and Trickster are in the custody of the Suicide Squad at present, under arrest for the Flash's murder. I wasn't aware this is what the Suicide Squad did, but I didn't know Multiplex was a member, so fair enough. Anyway, Deadshot explains that the pair are chained together with a high-tech handcuff. If it's pulled too violently, the pair of them will get an electric shock. And if too far or damaged/removed… The shock will be lethal. It might not be brain bombs, but it's still the Suicide Squad's go-to solution to all problems!

We cut over to Gotham City, where we get some crazy upskirt shots of Mary Marvel. I'm not quite sure how old Mary is in these, but she was discharged from a hospital on her own, so she must be at least over 18. Still, the introduction to her in this comic is the entirety of her thighs. Anyway, she's checking out the site of a recent explosion, and who should be at the scene but the Riddler? She immediately assumes the worst and flies off with him, but at this point in DC history, the Riddler has gone straight, and he spends the entirety of the next page explaining this to Mary until she finally puts him down. Physically, I mean, though I suppose she continues putting him down emotionally as well.

Over in Metropolis, at the women's shelter, the artist is clearly not done drawing women's thighs, as we watch Harley Quinn exercise on the balance beam while she and Holly Robinson talk. So this is actually a start of an arc for Harley Quinn to go straight (much like the Riddler a page previous). This would more firmly take hold in about 7 years, post New 52. But they were already laying the groundwork here! Anyways, long story short, Athena sought out Harley to make her assistant director of this women's shelter and lend guidance to these women. But Holly is still suspicious, because Athena is a literal god, what's she getting out of this?

Now then, in a new location for once, Jason Todd and Donna Troy decide to start their search for Ray Palmer by checking in with the man who took over his identity: Ryan Choi, the All-New Atom. I haven't read Ryan's run, but i should change that some time. Personal reminder! So it does mean I don't know these supporting characters. But they postulate that since Ray went sub-atomic following Jean Loring's incarceration to Arkham Asylum, he must be in the Palmerverse. Ah, man, I don't think Into the Palmer-Verse is the animated blockbuster you think it'll be, DC. Nah, actually it's what they call the sub-atomic universe in DC, like Marvel's Microverse. Hey, he discovered it, he can name it after himself if he wants. That's a scientist's privilege. So Ryan Choi joins the party!

Back on the ground, Riddler and Mary Marvel follow a mysterious trail of dirt leading from the crime scene. They discover a back alley where the trail stops. Riddler deduces that this isn't dirt at all. Instead, it's clay. And Clayface attacks them from behind, giving us our cover shot. Except Mary doesn't even get sludged, she dodges it while Riddler is the one mucked. Mary does the Flash tornado move and sends Clayface into space. She thinks it's fine, he was just dirt. As Riddler uncovers the stolen goods, he recommends that Mary should seek out a mentor in things magic, if she doesn't know her strength so strongly. Or anger management

Speaking of Gotham, no one goes around Gotham without Batman's notice, and you see him up above, eavesdropping on Mary and Riddler. Karate Kid approaches him from behind, and without looking up, Batman says "People who sneak up on me usually regret it." He's letting Batman know that the Legion is about to depart to the 31st century, and Batman's like "Don't let me keep you."

Karate Kid starts a bit where he wants to let Batman know what an honour it was to fight a skilled martial artist like him, and Batman retorts that "I lost once, it wouldn't happen again in a rematch." Karate Kid leaves in a huff, because he wasn't trying to rub Batman's nose in it. Batman smugly watches him fly off, mumbling something about "Did you expect a sidekick offer?" And I don't know why he's smiling other than that Batman is kind of a dick sometimes.

Speaking of being a dick sometimes, we cut over to the Daily Planet offices in Metropolis. Jimmy Olsen's musing to himself about his powers, wondering why he can't get them to activate at will instead of just under stress. He's also doodling some costume ideas, but when Lois comes by, she wonders what all the art is for. Jimmy hastily provides a cover-up of a comic strip idea he's pitching to the paper. Here's where the dickishness comes in: Lois then offers her opinion on his art, then says Jimmy should stick with photography. All Jimmy can manage is a weak "Good one, Lois."

Back over with Piper and Trickster, Trickster requests if there's any way they can be cuffed separately, and Piper takes this as a homophobic insult. Deadshot isn't stupid, and knows Trickster would try something the moment he was uncuffed. Trickster's all like, "What? No!" in the least convincing way possible, even when he points out they confiscated all his tricks. When they don't reply further, he uses his tongue to remove a false tooth implanted with a bomb. But, like, you look at this thing and it has a huge screw-like spike and clearly went down into his gums like a real tooth. That seems painful as hell to remove, especially without using your hands.

Trickster spits his nasty tooth-bomb straight up, where it explodes, knocking the whole transport around. And despite that one of the guys guarding them is Multiplex, a man whose powers are being able to make copies of himself, the two of them manage to push past him. Note also that Trickster hasn't communicated this plan at all to Piper, and he's just following Trickster's lead. The pair pushes past them and slams their way through the door and exit the transport. And the comic ends with revealing why this was a dumb plan: the pair of them fall out of an airborne plane and are plummeting to the ground miles below.

So, hey, remember when I began this review questioning why the Suicide Squad were arresting and detaining individuals? That's because I forgot Salvation Run was a thing, which was another tie-in miniseries to Countdown. Seriously, this whole maxi-series is just setup for other tie-ins. Not a lot else happens in this one aside from that, it feels very incidental. Clearly they had to do the fetish cover because there was nothing else interesting in the comic. Though I think this is the first issue with all six plotlines getting a scene, so that's something novel, at least~

[tantricmassagesfuengirola]

The Ultimate Guide About Tantra Massage

Introduction

Tantra massage is a unique and ancient practice that combines physical and spiritual techniques to help individuals connect with their bodies and their partners in a more profound way. Tantra massage is designed to help individuals experience pleasure and relaxation while also fostering a deeper sense of intimacy and connection with oneself and one’s partner. In this ultimate guide, we will explore what tantra massage is, how it works, and what to expect during a tantra massage session.

What is Tantra Massage?

Tantra massage is a form of alternative medicine that uses touch and other forms of body contact to relieve stress, heal injuries, and improve health. It has been practiced for centuries in many parts of Asia, but it’s only recently become popular in Other countries.

Tantra massage uses various techniques to focus on specific areas on your body during a session (for example head/neck or shoulder), but there are also some basic rules to follow when giving tantric massages:

Always ask if someone wants you to stop before they say so; this way you can focus on what they want without being distracted by unwanted touching or talking while you’re working on them.

Never use oil unless specified by the client; this will help prevent skin irritation caused by friction between the therapist and the client’s skin during treatment sessions. Oil may be used after each session if desired by clients who have sensitive skin types — but make sure not too much oil gets applied at once!

How Does Tantra Massage Work?

Tantra massage is a holistic approach to massage and sensual bodywork. It’s often described as “mind-body,” or “spiritual” in nature because it combines the mind and body in order to achieve a deeper sense of relaxation, rejuvenation, and well-being.

Tantric massage techniques can be used by both men and women; however they have been traditionally associated with being used by women more frequently than men. This doesn’t mean that men can’t benefit from tantric bodywork — they absolutely can!

Principles of Tantra Massage

Tantra massage is a form of sensual bodywork that uses the mind, body and breath to increase intimacy. It’s used to help couples achieve greater sexual satisfaction and improve their relationship.

The principles behind tantric massage include:

The use of verbal communication during the session (such as asking your partner questions about what they like or don’t like). This can be done in any language but it’s often done in Sanskrit or another sacred language to help you connect on a deeper level with each other.

Using props such as candles, oil lamps and flowers during your session will create an atmosphere that is more romantic than any other type of massage you would receive at the spa salon where you go for regular massages every few days!

Techniques Used in Tantra Massage

Use of the hands, feet, and mouth.

Use of breath.

Use of body as a tool.

Use of senses (sight, sound, smell).

Use of mind (thoughts). * Even if they’re not paying attention to you or what’s happening in front of them! You may even want to do this while someone else is giving you a massage sensation so that they become aware that their body is being touched by another person’s hands on their skin — which will help them feel more relaxed at least temporarily while they’re getting massaged!

Preparing for a Tantra Massage

Before you begin the process of booking your tantra massage, it is important to be clear about your expectations and limits. This will help ensure that both parties are on the same page when it comes to what they can expect during their session.

What are my expectations?

How long do I want this session to last?

Am I willing to pay extra if there is anything special that might happen during the session (e.g. if there is an added luxury like having candles lit)?

Safety and Ethics in Tantra Massage

Tantric massage is a great way to relax and enjoy the benefits of tantra. It’s also a great way to share your love with another person, connect with your partner, or just have fun.

If you’re looking for an ethical and safe approach to tantra massage (and if not, why are you reading this?), then look no further! This guide will help you find some of the best places around town where they do it right.

There are also different types of massages available in Fuengirola

Erotic Massage Fuengirola

Intimate Massage Fuengirola

Tantra Massages Fuengirola

Conclusion

Tantra massage is an ancient healing practice that uses the body’s energy system to bring about lasting change in how we feel and move. Tantra massage uses a combination of physical touch, positive thinking, self-awareness, and emotional release to help you live your best life. It’s not only a great way to relax after a long day at work or school but also helps build strength in areas where you may be lacking confidence.

Faq

Q: What happens during a tantra massage session?

A: During a tantra massage session, the massage therapist will use slow, deliberate strokes to help the individual relax and connect with their body. The massage may involve the use of essential oils, and the individual may be encouraged to focus on their breathing and connect with their senses.

Q: Is it appropriate to receive a tantra massage from someone of the opposite sex?

A: It is appropriate to receive a tantra massage from someone of the opposite sex as long as both parties are comfortable with the situation and have established clear boundaries and intentions beforehand.

Q: Do I need to be in a relationship to receive a tantra massage?

A: No, individuals do not need to be in a relationship to receive a tantra massage. Tantra massage can be a valuable experience for individuals who want to connect with their body and explore their sensuality in a safe and supportive environment.

[makingspiritualityreal]

Numerology Life Path 3 - Your Birth Card and its Ruling Planet

Numerology Life Path Numbers and their assigned Tarot Card Meaning Series

This is a post in my astrology/numerology/tarot series, that only concerns you, if you are a Life Path 3. Posts on consecutive Life Path Numbers will follow. Originally, I wanted to do them all in one post, but my writing turned out to be so long, I decided to split the post and seperate the Life Path Numbers. The introduction part of the post will be the same for all Life Path Numbers, in case you only read a post about your own Life Path Number, and nothing else. 

Introduction   

The concept of a Birth Card links Tarot and Numerology together, in order to deepen our understanding of a vibration of a Life Path Number we are born with. The Birth Card, or rather Birth Cards, are Major Arcana Tarot Cards with assigned numbers, which correlate with Life Path Numbers. Understanding the meaning of tarot cards, mixed with the knowledge of Numerology Vibrations, helps create a more unique vision of your life experience.

A person with any given Life Path Number, having several Major Arcana energies present in their lives, usually struggles with one of the energies more than the other. As a result, life will probably force them to focus on mastering one of these energies. In general, however, any Life Path describes both your biggest downfall and ultimate triumph - just like with an Astrology Chart, the highlighted numbers/astrology houses point to your biggest strengths and weaknesses. For a better understanding of this concept, visit my article “Natal Chart - A map of your issues?”

Remember, that everyone, besides their Life Path Number and Birth Card also has a unique astrology chart. Thus, for some people embracing the higher expression of their energy is easier, for others it’s harder and it takes more time to master, and some energies become easier to deal with than others. Most human beings are somewhere in between, working on their path and having some achievements while struggling with difficulties at the same time. 

In the spiritual community, there are differences in opinion on linking Astrological Planets and positions to specific numerology numbers energies. My take is a result of my own personal experience, conversations with other people in my field and research, in order to give you the widest possible spectrum of ideas and increase the understanding of every Life Path Number.

If you are a Master Number 11, 22 or 33, there will be a seperate post on how the Birth Cards apply to you as well. 

Even If you have only a basic understanding of Astrology, Tarot or Numerology, this post will still be helpful to you, because it describes the unique vibrational mix that comes from the expression of both these spiritual sciences mixed together. To calculate which Tarot Cards and what Life Path correspond to your birthday, click here.

Life Path 3 - The Hanged Man, The Empress and The World

The vibration of the Life Path 3 is ruled by the expansive, benevolent energies of Jupiter. This gives this life path an optimistic zeal to pursue their goals, and a lot of energy for continuous, creative forward movement, fueled by Jupiter’s joyous nature. 

The downfall here, as with all things related to Jupiter is excess and lack of measure. The key to constant prosperity is knowing where to stop, and preserving the bigger picture perspective. No matter what Life Path number you are, life always carries ups and downs with it. Life Path 3s can take their highs as dramatically as their lows, which can make them give up, when things are no longer that easy. Their ups can take them anywhere they want to, but their lows can sink them into a spiral of self destructive behaviors.

Jupiter rulership can also result in an opposite outcome to its natural, benevolent energy. A Life Path 3 can easily become dejected and disillusioned, struggling to rediscover their inspiration, and pushing themselves, because they expect the same, high level of results. The negative experience of the Life Path 3 is feeling limited, infertile, insufficient, not good enough, blocked and restricted. This despair can lead them to try to adapt some survival philosophy, which can make them stick to a narrow minded approach, just to have something measurable to believe in, a spiritual code to give at least an illusion of meaning. The key with this Life Path is preserving a real, measurable level of faith in yourself and your path, and making sure you don’t allow yourself to drown in negativity energetically, even if life sends trials your way. 

Your optimism is as infectious as your depressive states are. Be aware of the power you carry, how you can influence not only yourself but everyone around you, and the fact that you can survive any storm through keeping your energetic flow intact, even when it’s challenging. Take any suffering you encounter as an adventure. Be careful not to overly dramatise and catastrophize. This is not something commonly talked about, but Jupiter not only gives blessing, but also expands every experience, both positive and negative. That means a Life Path 3 can make any problem worse in their head than it actually is, due to their tendency to go the extra mile, in any direction. As a Life Path 3, keep your head level, look for truth, a bigger picture and a deeper meaning in every situation, without letting yourself be overwhelmed by it. For you more than for any other Life Path, it’s about the process, not the goal. 

We look for answers on the manifestation of the Life Path 3 energy through assigned Birth Cards.

The World - A card emblematic of the expansive energy of Jupiter. Represents infinity, limitless possibilities. Being the last Major Arcana card, it’s the ultimate outcome of our spiritual journey, where we feel enriched and blessed by the wisdom of all the experiences, that we encountered on the way, no matter how hard they could have been at times. This is the philosophy, that mature Life Path 3s embrace in life, that allows them to reach the heights, that other people admire them for. Nothing says “the world is your oyster” quite like The World card, because it has the wisdom and the perspective of all the previous Major Arcana energies. Having transcended and mastered the process of the spiritual growth journey, there is only perspective of infinity left in this stage, without the overwhelming emotional experience, that an initiate wrestles with in the middle of the growth process. This wisdom and serenity should be the guiding light for any Life Path 3.

The Hanged Man - Connected to the ability to expand through looking at things from a different perspective. It can also relate to the frustration element, that this Life Path can struggle with, the feeling of being stuck. However, it also points out how practical results for this Life Path are strongly dependent on their point of view. Life always leads to a crossroads at some point, and no one’s journey is perfectly smooth. The expansion, that Jupiter demands in this Life Path, requires having a varied experience, and that requires the open-minded and patient approach, that this Tarot card gives us. This is the tool of being measured and balanced for this Life Path - whenever a situation seems dire, look at it from another angle, and reflect upon it without constantly trying to push and exhaust yourself and rush forward. This is the pinch of restraint, that is necessary to hold Jupiter’s expansion together, the balancing, grounding, logical force, that humbles a Life Path 3 by constantly challenging them to keep growing through shifting their perception. 

The Empress - Reminds us, how powerful this Life Path is. Gives Jupiter a controlled, more directed flow. A mastered Life Path 3 will embrace Tarot’s gift in this card - focus and discipline. There is power in this Life Path being so happy-go-lucky, independent and expansive. However this, card reminds us, that good judgment, emotional self control and self-imposed limitations are equally necessary for Life Path 3s to succeed. The Empress is very creative, fertile, abundant and nourishing. She is the apex of divine feminine creativity. However, like a good mother, she knows when to reward and take care of the child, but also where to set the limits. This card gives a Life Path 3 the skill to keep themselves in check, in order to avoid going overboard and spiralling into self-destruction. 

As a Life Path 3, remember that the world needs your energy to keep going, not just to rush forward, but to exist in the moment with a mindset of abundance. Don’t forget, that for you more than for anyone how you look at things will determine the quality of your experience. There is a lot of power in this, because it gives you a high level of freedom. Don’t always rush forward. Take a break, pause, inhale, exhale. Enjoy the fresh breath of energy that you are, and spread it around, and you will always have that positivity come back to you in the end.

[ohmightydevviepuu]

the part of a swan

for @cshistfic​ (an extension of one of my august prompts)

--

It should be clear that Emma did not, by any means, regret her ruination.  She did not miss the person she had been before that night; the eager, naive girl, brought up always to behave a certain way, to speak softly, to do as she was bidden, to be what she was told.

Emma no longer believed in allowing people to tell her who she could be.

But Killian Jones is not concerned with who she was--he's interested in who she is. And he might be the only one smart enough to uncover the truth.

AO3 part 1/? ~2.6k

--

Emma was twenty-eight years old when she stepped into a ballroom for the first time since she was ruined.  The first time she was present for the judging stares, the awkward silences.  For the public shaming and the elaborate ritual that surrounded it.

It should be clear that Emma did not, by any means, regret her ruination.  She did not miss the person she had been before that night; the eager, naive girl, brought up always to behave a certain way, to speak softly, to do as she was bidden, to be what she was told.

Emma no longer believed in allowing people to tell her who she could be.

Lady Emma Nolan—for that was who she was, though she barely deserved the descriptor and never claimed the surname—delighted in her ruination, and had done for years.  It had given her freedom.

It had given her Henry.

Emma had faded into the background as she was expected to after her fall, after her scandal—watched the man she thought she loved continue to live his life as the toast of the ton, the darling of his father, the scion of a powerful family—and swore to herself it was the last time she would do what society expected her to do.

Until tonight.

Emma stood before the crowd, acutely aware of all of the eyes upon her, assessing her, from the style of her coiffure—a ridiculous confection of curls and white feathers—to the tips of her shoes.  Surely, they were saying to themselves, surely it is her brother’s money that supports her.

Emma could read them as easily as if they were speaking.

But they were wrong, and that was her secret.

Still, they whispered to each other, muttered remarks hidden discreetly behind fans and glasses of Champagne, and their eyes followed her.  Judged her for her past.

And for her presence.

They knew why she was here, and they hated it.

(So did she.)

“Lady Emma.”

The voice was lush and warm with roughness at its edges.  Dry—acerbic—the syllables drawn out.  He seemed to appear out of nowhere and Emma could do nothing but hold his stare, watching him as he watched her.  Dark hair, blue eyes, sharp cheekbones unfashionably marred by unshaven shadows.

It suited him.

“Sir,” she said.  “We have not been introduced.”  It was both a rebuke and a lie, for she knew who he was.  Killian Jones, the son of no one of name, who had made his career in the navy, nearly cashiered out of the service but not before making his fortune in captured prizes; now the writer of several prominent newspapers.

More importantly, a broker in the most potent currency of all—information.

“And you are lurking in the dark.”

“Then do allow me to rectify that on both counts,” he said, stepped forward and bending low over her hand.  His breath tickled her skin even through the elbow-length gloves as he looked up at her through his eyelashes.

She pulled away.  “What need has Killian Jones for an introduction?”

His eyes glittered.  Blue, like the place on the horizon where the sky met the sea, made brilliant by sunlight; Emma held her breath and prayed he would not notice her slip.

Lady Emma Nolan was not the kind of woman who should know—or recognize—Killian Jones.

Finally, he said, “I see my reputation precedes me.”

Emma exhaled.  “Why should mine be the only one?”

He laughed, a short bark that seemed to escape him unwillingly, and Emma smiled.  It was a small, tight smile.  She gestured at the ballroom and said, “I should return to my sister-in-law.”  “How is the Duchess?”  His tone was conversational, his eyebrow raised.  “Not dancing, I hope?  In her condition?”

Emma’s smile tightened.  She shifted, uncomfortable in the ill-fitting corset her sister-in-law had pressed upon her, and started to walk away.

He followed her movement, his gaze traveling from her neck to her navel, and Emma blushed.

“Let’s not play games, Lady Emma,” he said.  “You’re here for a husband.  You’re here for your son.”

He leaned in, coming closer, and Emma held her breath.  Anywhere but here—now—she might have welcomed this battle, this back-and-forth—welcomed him, for he was devastatingly handsome—

But she had felt that way before, and fallen for it; left broken, and alone, though it had not been Neal who had destroyed her.  She had never said his name aloud since the day he’d left, never told anyone the identity of the man who had, however unwittingly, given her freedom.

Fathers’ sins, after all, never stuck.

It had been them—the gaggle, the gossips, the matrons.  The glittering ballrooms of the beau monde.  She had chosen not to play by their rules, and paid the price for it.  Emma’s scandal became both entertainment and a cautionary tale.  She’d been exiled by all save her brother and sister-in-law, the duke and duchess married in a scandal of their own, the stars of a different tale.

Love.

But even that had come at a cost:  The respect of their late father, and of the ton.

And now, ten years later, here she stood.  “Do not,” Emma said, stepping forward and nearly baring her teeth at him, “mention my son.”

He stepped back, slowly.  His eyes did not move, and neither did hers.  His tone did not change when he said, “Lady Emma, I understand your urgency.  With the duchess increasing—”

Emma did not answer, but she made no move to leave this time.

Because he was right, the perceptive bastard.

All of the joy she felt for her brother and sister-in-law did not assuage her suddenly urgent need to see that Henry was properly taken care of—by a father.  Someone with a title—someone who needed an heir, now that her brother no longer did.

“There are other dowries, Lady Emma,” he said.  “Why yours?”

Emma’s eyes widened.  Perceptive, and too clever by half.  Maybe that was she answered him honestly.  “There are none so large as mine.  And none that come with as much freedom.”

“Freedom?”  For an instant only he looked confused.  Then he spoke, softly.  “Ah.  You have no expectations.  No dreams of a convenient husband turning into a love match.  You’re awfully young to be so cynical.”  He chuckled, a sound utterly devoid of humor; his eyes once more took her measure.  “But then again, wounds made when you’re young do tend to linger.”

He, too, spoke honestly, as if he knew.  As if he, too, had wounds.  He lifted his hand as if he was going to touch her again—and if he touched her, she was going to like it.

“No one has ever done what you’re about to do,” he said, his hand falling.  “And I wish for you to succeed.  In fact, I want to help you.”

Their eyes locked.

“You do?” Emma challenged him.  “Why?”

Some of the scandal sheets that had delighted in her fall had, after all, been his.

“My reasons are my own,” he said.  “There is little love between me and Society.”

She should end this conversation, Emma knew.  She’d been away from the crowd, and from Mary Margaret, her sister-in-law, long enough to be noticed.  Another black mark for the record-keepers.

But Emma stayed.  Said, “You keep them entertained.”

He smirked.  “And you, Lady Emma, are the entertainment in question.”

—

Killian Jones stood on the edge of the ballroom and watched them.  Watched her.

Emma Nolan was every inch an aristocrat, born and bred into this world; a true diamond of the first water.  Everyone in this room should be on their knees at her feet and instead they whispered, waiting to pounce—waiting to destroy her all over again.

He shouldn’t care.  He should stay focused.  

“You should not have flirted with the girl.”

Killian did not turn.  “What do you want with her?”

The answering chuckle was dry and unpleasant. “Let’s just say I’m keeping my eye on young Miss Nolan.”

“Lady Emma,” Killian corrected, only to be granted with another chuckle that had him biting back a curse.

“Of course.”  Robert Gold’s words were soft, delicate—silk wrapped around a knife.  

“What do you want with her?” Killian asked again.

Gold tutted.  “So cold a greeting from my oldest friend.”

Killian had known Gold—now Lord Boyle, Baron Ross, Earl of Glasgow—for almost fifteen years, and hated him for every moment of it; one of the King’s most trusted advisors, with tens of thousands of acres that earned him close to thirty thousand pounds per annum.

The man was as rich as a fictional king, but that was never enough for him.

No amount of power was enough for him.

“I could kill you right here,” Killian said.

“You could,” Gold agreed.  “And you would hang for it.”

“At least it would be for a crime I actually committed.”

“Big words, Captain.  You and I both know that you are not in any position to move against me.”

Killian finally turned to face him, ignoring the shiver of fear that went through him as he did so; hating it.  “I won’t ask again.”

“And I won’t answer.  Your only concern is that she interests me.  It is so tiresome, having to threaten you.  You would do better to just accept our arrangement.  I command, you act.”

As though Killian could ever forget.

But Killian was not the only one with secrets—Gold had them, and deeper and darker than any one man should.  Secrets that would see Gold, not Killian, at the end of a rope.

If only Killian had proof.

Snarling, Killian backed away from the earl and made his way through the ballroom for the exit.

And found—

“We meet again, Mr. Jones,” said Lady Emma Nolan.  Her bright green eyes sparkled and her voice—somehow it brought light with it.  Killian was helpless to do naught but smile back as he inclined his head in greeting.

“My lady,” he said, and enjoyed the surprise in her eyes at the honorific.

The night was still young and they were the only two preparing to leave.  Emma’s maid stood discreetly behind and the duchess, her chaperone, was nowhere to be seen.  “Are you for home already?”

Her nod made the feathers in her coiffure tremble.  “Believe it or not, Mr. Jones, I am unaccustomed to this sort of evening.  I find myself quite exhausted.”

“I noticed you found the energy to dance,” he said, and wished he hadn’t.

She had stood up for every dance, had played her part brilliantly; Killian had noticed several of her brother’s titled friends called in to do a set with her in the hopes that all of their combined wealth and power might blind Society to the lady’s sins.

She was all anyone talked about, but it was neither her brother’s chosen champions nor her beauty that fueled the whispers in the ballroom.

If Gold wanted her—

“Did you?” She adjusted her wrap around her shoulders but could not hide her smile.  “And yet you never thought to ask me?”

“Lady Emma,” he said, affecting shock, “when we have not even been introduced?”

Her laugh seemed to reverberate; as if the street lamps themselves would dance to her tune, and for a long moment there was silence between them, neither of them moving to break the moment.  The sound of approaching hoofbeats and carriage wheels emerging from the neighboring mews was both an irritation and a welcome distraction as she made to leave him.

“The duchess does not accompany you?”

The feathers trembled again as she shook her head, still smiling.  “I’m for home, Mr. Jones.  I wonder, what shall you write about this evening for your Scandal Sheet?”

She meant the words to amuse, he was sure—a perfect combination of wit and boredom—but underneath it all, Killian heard something else.  Something, he thought, no one was meant to hear:  Sadness.  Loss.  Frustration.

“You don’t want it, do you?”

She watched him, weighing, calculating, as the carriage waited before them to take her away from this place and this life, if only for an evening.  If she was surprised by how easily he read her, she gave no sign of it.  “This is my bed, Mr. Jones.  I must lie in it.  And to do that—it seems I need you.”

The words landed, harder than she ever could have intended, his silly promise of social redemption echoing hollow.  It was cold comfort to know that the earl was already married and could have no designs on Emma’s dowry.

The man had a terrible track record when it came to his wives.

Killian thought that it must be her family—her brother—that interested him.  The young, golden-haired duke had clawed his way back from his sister’s scandal and his own marriage based, as best Killian could ascertain, solely on his charm.

“Lady Emma—” he began, but he did not know what else to say.

“Good night, Mr. Jones.”  She was already moving, down the steps to the waiting carriage.  

He watched her, the way she moved, fascinated by the way the pale fabric of her skirts seemed to swirl in the night air, the way her arm balanced as she smiled at the footman handing her in, a glimpse of ankle in a silver slipper before the door slammed shut and her outrider climbed onto his perch.

He imagined what he might write about her as his curricle pulled up to the mounting block and he took the reins, so lost in his thoughts of her that he did not realize he still followed the lady’s coach until they were well past the turn out of Mayfair and toward her brother’s town house.

He followed her down Bond Street toward Piccadilly and then St. James before he allowed his curricle to fall back, watching the lanterns on the carriage as they navigated the back alleyways behind Duke Street toward the men’s clubs of London.

Lady Emma Nolan, sister of a duke, with a dowry big enough to buy a palace, desperate for a restored reputation and a father for her son—that he had determined to secure for her—was in a parked curricle behind the most exclusive men’s club in Britain.  More than a club—the most expensive, high-class gaming hell in London.

Lady Emma Nolan, behind Killian’s own destination, behind his club, The Swan.  A club run by some of London’s darkest men on behalf of the club’s owner, who went only by the name Swan.  Killian had never seen nor spoken to Swan in spite of their years-long profitable relationship in the trade of information.

Of secrets.

Just the person, Killian had decided, to turn to in order to free himself from Gold’s yoke once and for all.  If anyone could access Gold’s secrets, it would be Swan, and Killian was willing to pay any price for what he desired.

Emma’s outrider—a giant of a man, Killian suddenly realized—was stood in front of the heavy steel door that marked The Swan’s back entrance, banging in a specific pattern to gain entry.

He should stop her.  He moved to, just as the carriage door opened and Killian strained for a glimpse of her pale slipper, her white skirts.

But that was not what he saw.

The slipper was high-heeled and dark—the skirts a silk the color of the purest red rose—a corseted bodice that put on display a décolletage of perfect proportions.  Painted lips, kohl-rimmed eyes, and a dark wig that hid every golden hair.

Killian Jones watched her disappear into the club’s back entrance and he smiled.

Here was a story.

And—just maybe—an answer to all of his problems.

--

@katie-dub @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @shireness-says @pirateherokillian @stahlop @onceratheart18 @kmomof4 @mariakov81 

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Dressrosa (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

wild how this is upwards of 750 chapters in and yet i still get a big dumb smile whenever luffy declares he’s going to be king of the pirates. one piece is a series very much driven by its main characters and their goals and dreams- i don’t think it would be nearly as good if the main character was anyone but monkey d. luffy. 

personally, i always just feel kind of proud whenever he says this, because- yeah!! he is!! that’s luffy, he’s going to be king of the pirates, and we’ve known that since day fucking one. 

i really think there’s something to be said about usopp never taking credit for saving luffy and law from sugar. it’s arguably his greatest feat in the entire series thus far- an impossible, perfect shot across an entire country, with an angry mob inches from his back- and he never even tells anybody he did it. he’s come a long way from someone who tells tall tales about heroic acts he never did to someone who doesn’t even feel the need to take credit for ones he really did, so long as his friends are safe.

i really like how corazon’s introduction and characterization throughout the flashback is handled. at the start of law’s flashback, we know a few things about him already: that he’s someone law loved very much, and that he was killed by doflamingo. we know how this ends. 

but then cora is introduced as a clumsy mute weirdo who nearly kills law as one of the very first things he does, and we as the audience aren’t really sure how to reconcile that- and then the rest of the flashback is us, along with law, slowly discovering what a complicated and contradictory but ultimately good person he is. something very similar happens with the asl flashback- we know the endpoint of luffy and ace’s relationship, but the flashback is all about how they got there, from attempted murder to willing self-sacrifice. 

i think it’s really cool the way law and doflamingo’s backstories are layered together. they’re characters who exist with a lot of parallels and similarities between them already, which is something they’re both clearly aware of- i’ve mentioned before i think the only real difference between them is that law got corazon where doflamingo got the executives- and presenting their backstories simultaneously only makes that more obvious. 

i’ve always found it so interesting that we get what’s pretty much our only substantial exposition about the will of d direct from a former celestial dragon. it makes sense- cora’s basically the only character we’ve met who both has this information and is willing to share it-  but i don’t know, there’s something that feels very poetic to me about him having this information that’s clearly been suppressed and hidden by the dragons and willingly choosing to share it in order to help protect law, a D, who should technically be the very enemy he was once taught to hate and fear. 

i really like corazon. 

it fucks me up that we can tell the exact moment cora dies from the moment law starts making noise again. 

this might be a controversial take? i’m not sure. but i like baby five. i think her and sai’s relationship is really sweet, and people might complain about her getting off easy or whatever but i’m honestly glad she gets a happy ending after being thoroughly emotionally abused and broken her entire life. and on a lighter note, she’s also just a fun character to watch through the whole arc- the running gag with her crying whenever law glares at her is still one of my favorites in the whole series. 

the shot of robin’s bloody back is a favorite of mine, because it’s a reveal that doesn’t get lingered on at all, and yet at once it gives the entire proceeding scene a lot more weight when we understand just how much pain she must’ve been in the entire time. and yet she never even flinched or faltered while protecting rebecca. nico robin is very, very strong. 

there’s something so deliciously fitting about diamante’s final fall ending with him cracking his head on scarlett’s grave, and something so lovely about kyros and rebecca finally getting their proper reunion there, when neither of them ever really got a chance to mourn.

law’s line about the strawhats trailing nothing but miracles in their wake is one of the first ones i always think of when i think about the strawhats in general and luffy in particular, mostly because it’s so true. from the very beginning, the strawhats have been doing the impossible, from sailing to the sky to breaking in and out of the world’s greatest prison, and law saw that and staked all his hopes on it and they did not let him down. 

also i think it’s very cool of law to, when held at gunpoint and down an arm, grin, flip doflamingo off, and tell him to eat shit and that luffy is going to kick his ass. love that for him.

i think dressrosa does a very good job of making the victory against doflamingo equally law’s and luffy’s. they cooperate and trade off fighting him throughout the arc to great effect, and i think it’s pretty clear that neither of them could have tackled the massive challenge of dressrosa alone. 

while the final fight is luffy’s, it’s made clear that that’s only after law’s done absolutely everything he could and spent the majority of the arc distracting doflamingo, keeping him occupied, and even fucking shredding his insides with pure radiation before finally needing to tap out. i think it’s a good balance, given that luffy is the protagonist but law’s grudge against doflamingo is the driving force behind the entire arc. 

conqueror’s haki clashes are always very cool, pretty much regardless of who or where or why, but the one between luffy and doflamingo is a favorite. 

one of the things that’s always impressed me about one piece in comparison to other shounen series is how it handles its powerscaling- in that it does it well with a gradual increase and villains who vary widely in strength instead of every arc necessarily needing to be bigger and better than the last- and i think the way it handles powering up the main characters is a big part of that. 

through the entirety of one piece thus far, i’d say luffy has had three major power-ups- second and third gear in enies lobby, haki at the timeskip, and gear four here in dressrosa (an argument could also be made for ryuuou in wano, but i think that’s less major than these others). this helps prevent runaway powerscaling and also makes new power-ups feel like a genuine event, which i really like. 

i once referred to luffy as ‘hopebringer’ in a conversation with friends, and it’s a descriptor for him i think sums up really well how he manages to save so many people while insistently not being a hero. luffy inspires people, inspires whole countries, starting all the way back with coby in romance dawn. it’s one of the reasons i think it’s fitting how thoroughly he’s associated with the dawn. 

doflamingo is very, very scary. which is interesting, because he’s indisputably less powerful someone like kaidou, but at the same time i find him a much scarier villain, and i think it comes down to doflamingo’s gleeful, wanton cruelty. not that kaidou is in any way shape or form a nice person, but our first introduction to doflamingo is him forcing marines to attack each other just because he’s a little bored. he hurts people just because he can, and finds it funny. 

relating to my earlier comment about hope, i really like how the whole country comes together at the end to cheer luffy on and count down to his return. it makes it feel all the more triumphant when it does, especially for the citizens of dressrosa who’ve been suffocating under doflamingo’s rule for years and can finally, finally see freedom.

other people have put a lot more thought of the symbolism of doflamingo’s eyes and glasses than i intend to, but i’ll settle for saying that it’s the breaking of the glasses, before anything else, before the birdcage even vanishes from the sky and everyone is safe, that shows us that, at long last, doflamingo is well and truly defeated. his glasses break, and so does his power. 

i’ve written a longer post about it before (here) but it’s a recurring motif that one piece’s worst villains are those that steal people’s freedom, including, in the cruelest cases, the freedom to express their emotions openly. we see it with koala and the celestial dragons, with the failed smile fruits in wano, and here, too, with kyros. and, much like koala, triumph for him means finally being able to cry. 

i mentioned it back in the first post, but i’m so, so happy rebecca and kyros get the happy ending they deserve. they’ve both been fighting a war that they never should have had to for years and years, and they both deserve to get to just live, now, peaceful and quiet and together and surrounded by flowers. 

i really dig the note dressrosa ends on. it’s happy, of course, obviously, with the liberation of the country, kyros and rebecca’s happy ending, the creation of the grand fleet, even law getting some degree of closure through his talk with sengoku, but it also leaves this massive, gaping question- what now? 

in a way, doflamingo’s speech here follows up on law’s new era speech from punk hazard. luffy and law have just thrown a major wrench into the delicate power equilibrium of the entire new world, and we have all these characters out there who might be affected, who might want to take advantage, who might try to seize the throne. 

[freddiekluger]

I am all ears for your season 3 cap's big gay awakening ideas 👀👀

alright, you asked so sit down and strap in

before we get started- a few details are recycled/repurposed from earlier headcanons/ask answers (characterisation is like that), and i came up with all this a couple weeks back, so any overlap with other peoples suggestions is totally unintentional! i’ve just been finding the energy to properly write them up as originally i riffed them with a friend late at night lmao

the captain: homo evolution

introduction (scroll down if you’re not bothered for the hardcore analysis/logic)

this isn’t necessarily what i think WILL happen as much as how i would do it. over the past two seasons of Ghosts, we’ve seen the captain’s main character arc being centred around him loosening up, from learning to value mike, alison, and the other ghosts more as equals than soldiers/means to an end to the season 2 finale, where cap is not only expressing an interest in flowers and fashion (distinctly un-soldierly pursuits) but joining the party and other men (the direct opposite of About Last Night, in which cap bah humbugs partying/’gay abandon’ and is left speechless by the mere presence of a mostly naked man). that being said, the captain is still the captain: his character is still centred around this need for rules and structure and he still finds his identity in the archetypal WW2 military man- all of his incremental moves towards a more ‘modern’ perspective have ultimately been made possible because, like Ben said on twitter, the captain isn’t CONSCIOUSLY aware that he’s gay. he has the underlying feeling that he’s different, he knows of his tendency to attach himself to specific men and form incredibly close bonds (and, as demonstrated by his attempts to hide them, is at least somewhat aware that that’s not the norm), but in his mind he’s written that off as merely “not being a ladies man”. 

the captain is from the 1940s- it’s one thing for him to see and be supportive of a same-gender wedding in present day England where gay=legal unions, marketed doritos, and homophobia being still present but generally frowned upon, and another thing entirely for him to have to apply it to himself. we’ve already seen that the captain appears to be stuck in the past more than any of the other ghosts (”the war is over!” “is it, alison? is it?”- he also references the past more frequently than most of the others), and in his past sodomite gay=punishable by imprisonment and chemical castration, back alley hookups, and the constant threat of blackmail and violence. obviously, despite all this, there was a vibrant underground queer history taking place in England during this time & not all of the above is accurate, but it’s what cap would have seen, and the England of the early 20th century is denoted as being a particularly brutal period for lgbtq+ folks (the destruction of the first world war exacerbated rage and frustration, and lgbtq+ people weren’t the only gorup to end up on the receiving end of that, but i digress). this is basiclly just a really long way of me saying that the captain compartmentalising to that degree was, and to some extent is, a survival mechanism. confronting his homoseuxality means confronting what it means for a 1940s man to be a dreaded homosexual, and all of that directly conflicts with the image of ‘the Captain’ he’s built in his mind. 

we’ve seen this in Redding Weddy, where the captain is aware that Havers means/meant more to him than was normal for a captain/2ic relationship (he does attempts to hide his affection- “i shall miss you, Havers. by which of course i mean we shall miss you “he left me, i mean he left for the front”), but is never able to fully verbalise WHY, and it only takes a series of increasingly dramatic prompts before he will even mention the idea of Havers, let alone begin to articulate their relationship. 

all this just goes to prove that for the captain to properly ‘come out’, there needs to be an external inciting incident- he could easily have gone on shadowing attractive men whenever they visit and avoiding interrogating those feelings for another seventy years if Button house remained without alison and mike. 

while at least julian, pat, and robin have noticed that the cap is not the most heteroseual of men (they’re the only ghosts who have visibly reacted when cap says gay shit), they all appear to have decided to just not mention it, which makes alison and mike our wildcards. not only has alison’s ability to see and communicate with the ghosts already connected them more to the modern world than they ever have been, alison, and mike by extension, has a personal stake in the wellbeing/general growth of the ghosts. happy ghosts=happy house, and like it or not some of them are even beginning to become friends. [i probably didn’t need to write all this like explaining my decisions, but i think figuring out the motivations behind everyon just develops the flavour and lets us have a sexy and accurate headcanon]

so,

the episode

while the captain might not consciously know he’s a fruit (derogatory), he is well and truly terrible at concealing the thirst (it’s not his fault things just keep slipping out!)- i love the idea of just having a supercut near the beginning of the episode that just shows that the captain has gotten even GAYER since last season, with slip ups becoming almost a daily occurence, but it’s getting to the point where it’s actually becoming a serious hazard. last week, he was supposed to be looking out for alison while attempted to put up blinds, but one of mike’s friends (who was over ‘helping out’, which mostly meant eating chips and covering himself in paint) walked through the room with his shirt off and paint handprints on the seat of his shorts, distracting the captain from realising that alison’s stepladder was about to give way. 

with the increased presence of non elderly men in the house (the previous owner wasn’t exactly the life of the party) the captain is getting gayer and gayer, but he’s also becoming more and more defensive, while his brisk demeanour and need for control regresses to much more of a season 1 state (a subconscious attempt to regain control as things get close to spilling over). it’s not the first time his repression has almost slipped, he spent much of his life surrounded by soldiers after all, but with no war and no corporeal body he’s got almost nothing to distract himself from it. needless to say, between the safety hazards and the almost agressive defensiveness which derails any interaction, something needs to be done about the captain.

throughout the week, alison tries to find the opportune time to talk to the captain about what’s going on with him for everyone’s sake, but cap keeps masterfully evading any ‘deep’ talk with willful misunderstanding or just straight up dismissal (which at times gets a bit rude), and alison really doesn’t have the time- her and mike are caught up with managing the first official room redecoration and butting heads with a passive agressive delivery driver. insert general shenangigans, but at some point the captain’s whole “accidentally sabotage something by being distracted and then attack anyone who dares even look at him the wrong way afterwards” act causes alison to exasperatedly blurt out “we all know you’re gay! we get it! you like men! you can drop the act!”. there’s no malice or anything but, as we know, when alison gets run ragged things don’t tend to come out quite right.

everything falls silent (and mike is vaguely confused), and the captain just looks like a deer in headlights. as alison catches her breath, pat pipes up with a “it’s alright, cap, we don’t mind- now we can focus on the task at hand”. the captain sort of regains his composure and once again attempts to brush them all off with a scoff and a “i haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. if any of us is distracted, i-it’s... kitty!” but it’s easy to tell he looks rattled. most of his words don’t come out right, and after trying to blame kitty for their failures (she just had the unfortunate luck of being in his line of sight), he ends up doing an awkward little walk away which quickly turns into a full on sprint. mike, having finished processing alison yelling about gay shit to the air and kind of pieced together what must have happened awkwardly chimes in with “it’s okay to be gay!”- alison just pats him on the back (”yeah no he’s gone, mike.” “gone?” “sprinted away.” “huh”)

the episode continues with the captain flat out avoiding alison and the other ghosts to an almost funny extent as the other plots continue. it takes a bit for alison to realise why the captain reacted so badly (in fact, it’s actually mike who remembers that he’s 1940s ghost- “he’s probably just scared and taking it out on everyone else”). while thomas and julian vote for leaving the captain be so they can have some peace and quiet, fanny/pat/alison/robin decide someone needs to talk to him (fanny surprised everyone but after all, she got murdered because her husband had to live in secrecy- if talking to the captain will avert any further crises, she’s happy to make sure someone else does it for her). kitty’s still upset about being singled out, but she knows better than anyone that sometimes all you need is a friend- cue realisation no. 2.

with the captain avoiding everyone, sending in a regular emissary isn’t going to work. they need to find the least threatening person possible, with no agenda or history other than being there to help (a friend, if you will)- cue everyone looking at mike.

a quick offscreen briefing later, we see mike wandering out to the field where the captain has exiled himself- remember that up until this point, the captain was still in conscious denial about his sexuality, so being forced to confront it head on (and finding out that apparently everyone ‘knew’, which for cap would feel like an intimate invasion of privacy/forced vulnerability) would rattle him to the point of self-exile- he might not be able to run from his sexuality, but he can run from people. the thing is, mike can’t see or hear the ghosts, which means the captain can’t be frightened off by any expectations (mike actually talks to/at cap while facing completely the wrong direction, but consdiering the above point, this works rather well). 

the captain was alternating between pacing, fiddling with his swagger stick, and sitting, but he unconsciously stands to attention as mike wanders over. he’s used to mike not being able to see them, so mike asking to sit down takes him by surprise, disrupting his instinct to flee again.

mike begins a little awkwardly (”mind if i sit?” *silence* “...i’m just gonna assume that’s a no. or is it a yes? yeah anyways i’m just gonna sit. so... heard you’ve been going through a rough patch”), and the captain almost scoffs and wanders off, but something about the clumsy earnestness in mike’s voice, the captain’s vulnerable state, and the fact that it’s been so long since cap has had anyone actually check in on him, that he stays put. he keeps standing and staring away from button house, and mike keeps speaking to the empty air to his left, and alison and the ghosts stay hidden behind their bush a few metres away, but at least the captain is listening. for the first time in weeks, he’s not on the offensive.

“i can’t actually see or hear you, so i’m just gonna talk and assume you’re listening. alison mentioned you have a habit of running away but, um, maybe don’t do that please?”

“my mate daniel's gay. uh, homosexual, you’d probably say- did you have gay when you were alive? did it just mean happy? anyway, he didn’t come out- that means tell people- until he left high school. we all kind of guessed it, the other kids at school gave him a real tough time for it, but he just squashed it down. couldn’t imagine that all the things people were shouting at him were true, so he ignored it. he’s doing good now though. got married to his husband last year, currently runs a bookshop. so that’s nice.”

it goes quiet for a bit. the captain hasn’t moved, and we’re still only seeing shots of him from the back, but there’s a little less tension in his stance than there was before.  mike clears his throat before continuing.

“i’m guessing you’re probably pretty scared right now. i would be- i mean not that you should be, you shouldn’t, but coming from your... situation, i’m guessing it’d be hard. no one’s saying you have to be anything you’re not ready to be, but lots of things that are scary are actually not bad. airplanes, skydiving, clowns- well, not the clown from that movie, but he gives clowns a bad rep- i’m sure there are plenty of lovely clowns out in the world. still give me the creeps though.” the captain makes a captain-y noise of assent about the clown comment- he never liked them either. 

mike glances over to the bush where alison and the ghosts were attempting to listen in (they could only catch every few words- mary got particularly concerned about why mike had referenced clowns), and the captain still hasn’t run away, so alison motions for mike to keep going. he starts telling the captain a story from his uni days. it’s got nothing to do with the captain, or being gay, or self-acceptance, or anything like that- it’s just a standard tale of comedic but inventive problem solving. the captain sits himself down next to mike (to his right, avoiding mike’s gaze, and still staring away from button house), muttering that his legs are getting a bit tired. he sits there for a while, and mike just talks. sometimes he circles back to the gay thing, sometimes he just asks the captain questions, before remembering that he can’t actually hear any answer, but then he keeps asking anyway, thinking that cap might need to talk. he doesn’t at first, but slowly he offers up a word or two. and then a sentence, and then maybe more- mike will accidentally cut the captain off, or leave the silence to long, but the captain doesn’t mind (it’s a nice reminder that nothing he says will actually go on to have consequence). at one point, mike gets out his phone to show the captain photos of his mate daniel and daniel's husband, not just their wedding day but casual photos- couples drinks with him and alison, dinners at each other's places, the bookshop. 

alison and the other ghosts have long gone, and the sun is just about to sink below the horizon by the time the captain stands himself back up with the traditional knee crack and grunt. he looks at mike and nods, giving him a simple thank you before turning to walk (not run) back to button house, head held slightly higher and looking more relaxed than he’s been all episode. the captain has still got a lot to figure out, but at least it’s a start.

[i love the dramatic ending but the implication is that alison has to go and fetch mike bc he has no ideas cap has left and is prepared to keep going lol- also by no means is cap suddenly going to ditch his characterisation and become a yas kween gay right away, i didn’t go into the aftermath bc this is alreayd fucking LONG but let me know if you want follow up????}

EDIT: i've rbed this with the follow up/part 2 attached!

EDIT 2, much later: switched out mike's reference to his 'younger brother' to a school friend, since the christmas special confirmed mike only has sisters and we're all about accuracy here

[themurphyzone]

PatB: Snowball Ep Talk

You know, I really do love the episode Snowball (my personal favorite AKOM episode) but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it here much, and if I did it’s probably really only because of the flashback sequence. 

Okay so all looks good so far. Chain letter scheme and superstition, a standard introduction to Brain’s latest plot of world domination. All looks good. Plus I just like this shot of Pinky. Don’t mind me, just starting off light here with a smushed Pinky. 

I just like Pinky’s pose here. He’s so cute. 

You will bow before Troz.

“I met a Snowball today! Right here in the lab!” -Pinky

You know, I just find the implications of this line hysterical. This means that Snowball was in the lab that day, waiting for the moment to strike, and he definitely pushed his stolen chain letter through the mail slot. 

And then he lets Pinky see him, and no it’s not just a passing glance either cause Pinky specifically describes a tattoo with an A and a circle and points to his leg. Which means Snowball deliberately lifted the fur on his leg and showed his tattoo to Pinky. 

Like, wow. 

“It means, Pinky, that evil lurks among us. By the name of Snowball! SNOWBALLLLLLLL!” -Brain 

Talk about a bad breakup. *Alexa play Bad Blood*

Personally I think one of the interesting visual cues is that Snowball purposely plants himself into the mice’s space. There’s a lot of that in this episode. He knows how to rile up Brain and hit him where it hurts, namely through Pinky. 

Brain values his personal space, and he values a sense of control. When Snowball invades that space, Brain loses control, and his anger can lead him to make some very ill-informed decisions. Which is exactly what Snowball aims for. 

“You think Pinky is an asset?” 

“Anything I can take from you is an asset.”

Ah yes, Snowball’s mission statement. Crush everything Brain has into dust. 

The flashback sequence. Dear God this flashback sequence. They were both so cute! 

You know, it’s really sad that a younger Brain acted more like Pinky. Making silly faces and trying to get someone to laugh are such Pinky things to do. I know canon is loose but if you consider this flashback taking place shortly after Brain was captured from the wild, then young Brain didn’t gain a grasp on what happened to him until after the gene splicer.  

Ok but Brain was literally right there when the gene splicer exploded. Imagine having your cranium size dramatically increase, you’re injured, you’ve suddenly gained sentience, and as if all that wasn’t enough, you see the gene splicer explode with your only friend inside. 

Oh, and said friend’s mind was probably damaged in the explosion and now he hates your guts. And though you’re angry with him for his betrayal, some part of you will never stop caring about him. 

Once again, Snowball needs to learn to keep his hands to himself. 

This conversation here establishes Snowball as the perfect third character. He appears only in a handful of eps, but he’s fun to watch and love to hate. Snowball challenges the mice’s relationship. Snowball sees the weak points; the insults, the reliance on each other, and twists them to his advantage. And Pinky even admits he’s hurt by Brain’s insults occasionally, though he still loves being around him. 

“Pinky, the Brain doesn’t care about you. He’s just using you.” 

“No, he’s not.”

It’s really interesting to me how Pinky denies Snowball’s statement, yet his ears go down to show that he’s affected by the idea of being used. Pinky and the Brain may be night and day, but one thing they do have in common is their tendency to deny certain things. Brain with emotions and affection and Pinky with concepts he’d rather not admit the possibility of. 

Coming back to this later. 

Non plot related but Brain is teeny tiny and I love how he just trusts Pinky to catch him

Side note: I apologize if any of these screenshots look weird. It’s an AKOM ep. 

WHY ARE YOU TWO SO BAD AT SNEAKING AROUND. 

I just find it hilarious how they clearly run around where Snowball can see and hear them. Like they just shout Snowball’s name in the middle of the room. You’re terrible at being sneaky little mice. Please. 

Those dang boomers and their old timey 90s computers. Technology is ruining boomers. Can’t even hold a conversation anymore cause they keep looking at their screens. 

No touchy! 

Well, it’s awful nice of Snowball to engage in nepotism and offer Brain a position in his administration...and then tempt Pinky with an amusement park when he refuses. 

You really gotta appreciate the complexity of Snowball’s plans. Stealing the chain letter fails->plant seeds of doubt in Pinky’s mind, even if this doesn’t work right off the bat, the idea will still be there-> take over a corporation->impersonate Bill Gates->When the mice show up, offer to co-rule the world on expectations that Brain will refuse->make co-ruler offer to Pinky->wait for Brain to open his big mouth and drive Pinky away. 

All to take everything Brain has. His dignity, Pinky, his meager resources. Like holy Snowball, Batman.  

And then Snowball reveals the amusement park he had specifically built for Pinky. 

And here we have the most heartbreaking line of the ep. If I had the ability video edit I would’ve put the entire line on audio because Brain’s tone is very important here. It’s about 12:38 to 12:57 in the ep if you want to see for yourself. 

“Oh, go ahead, Pinky. I don’t need you. What did you think, I just have you around so I can steal your brilliant ideas and claim them as my own? That I’m just using you, Pinky? Oh yes, I’m using you for your brilliance!” 

First of all, very poor word choice, especially to someone who has trouble understanding sarcasm. I just want to dissect this statement here. 

The Literal Meaning: You’re an idiot to think you were ever more than an assistant. 

This is what Pinky hears. 

But if you listen to Brain’s tone rather than just reading the line, he sounds genuinely hurt that Pinky would ever be tempted by something as frivolous as an amusement park. It’s Pinky, so he just sees ‘ooh fun rides, cotton candy, and carnival games’! 

But Brain is perfectly aware that this is Snowball’s well-crafted method of taking away the only thing he truly has, and he knows it’s working. And he’s hurt. 

The Actual Meaning: Snowball’s trying to separate us and you’re falling for it, Pinky. You may be an idiot, but many of my plans never would’ve come to fruition without you. You’re much more than an assistant. You’re my friend and my world.  

Unfortunately, all Pinky hears is that Brain was only using him. That Brain values him for manual labor and an extra hand only, rather than a treasured companion. The fact that Brain often falls short of making Pinky feel appreciated just adds to this. 

And now that he no longer has Pinky, Brain’s spirit is crushed. Brain is persistent, but without Pinky, he has no reason to be. 

As far as he knows, his only two friends have turned their backs on him and couldn’t care less if he has nowhere else to go. 

Poor thing. He needs hugs. 

“I didn’t think it was possible. Humanity has actually gotten dumber.” -Brain

OK I think this one shot establishes what the world would be like under Snowball. His name is everywhere, and he tells the population to do stupid things just to bask in his own superiority. 

However, I can’t see Brain putting his name on every building so frivolously like this if he ruled the world. Sure, he’d name a bunch of things after himself and Pinky, but it would be more meaningful to them. 

Brain wants humanity to advance, not regress. 

Poor Pinky. Despite all this new extravagance and luxury, he’s also lonely. The room and bed are large, but it lacks personality. He’s sleeping with an ACME Labs snow globe, and other than a reference to Citizen Kane, it also shows that he’s not happy with this. 

The worst thing in the world for these mice is separation from each other. 

Suicide by cat. 

Poor little guy can’t make it on his own. Luckily, he snaps out of it. 

“My world. I must save MY world!” 

Said while looking at a picture of Pinky. Real subtle there Brain. 

“Look, you fool. You have no brilliant ideas. I’m only using you to get at him! So just stay quiet!” -Snowball

“You’re...using me?” -Pinky

He was just a bargaining chip. Never a friend. 

“What do you want?” 

“My friend. And MY world!”

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

He makes martial arts noises like a dork. I love him. 

I love how their characters are reflected in the mecha designs (also I had no idea Snowball was Iron Man!) 

Snowball’s is overall the more efficient design. It’s also much more combat ready and violent. In comparison, Brain’s suit is simply operated with a bunch of levers. It’s alright for peaceful situations like getting around faster or simply blending with a human population, but in a straight up fight the levers take too much time to operate. 

Snowball is more efficient than Brain, and while he’s got the ego, he lacks the insecurities that hold Brain back. His confidence makes him such an effective foe. And more importantly, Snowball doesn’t value Pinky’s companionship. He’s a tool and nothing more. Compare that to Brain. While Brain struggles at showing it, he ultimately wants Pinky’s input and values his jumbo-sized heart. 

Somewhat off topic, but I feel like the reboot missed this aspect of Brain and made him too overly edgy and violent (reboot!Brain would probably prefer Snowball’s mecha design over his counterpart’s). The only time Brain should become violent, if not for comedy, is when he’s protecting Pinky. His plans should have a level of restraint to them, and Pinky is the moral compass.  

I just like this shit-eating grin right here (I mean, he did eat shit in Welcome to the Jungle so...lol)

This is such an insanely clever move for Pinky. I feel like Brain would be like ‘oh my god Pinky!’ and then ‘wow, that’s actually brilliant what the heck is this tingling feeling’. 

ACME LABS IS IN NEW YORK CITY??????

I know this is a case of Where the Hell is Springfield but gdi aren’t they supposed to be in southern California. 

Ok fine I realize the ending to this ep is a reference to North by Northwest cause they somehow got to Mt. Rushmore but still 

Weird tangent but North by Northwest’s ending bothers me (not gonna fault this ep as it’s just a parody)? I’m sorry the girl is barely hanging onto Mt. Rushmore, the dude pulls her up, and then they have sex in a car. The sudden transition always seemed weird to me. 

I am ending this analysis post with a weird shot of Snowball cause i can and it’s his episode. 

[blackswaneuroparedux]

No “wine-ing”: a season of ice and fire

A lot of you dropped very kind messages about my well being and I’m happy to say that my recovery from Covid is firmly on track and I’m close to full strength again. My exhaustion and tiredness has thankfully been ebbing away. I’m back running my daily 5 km before I start my work day and cycling to get back to full fitness.

So I managed to escape Paris before the travel lockdown and curfew was imposed before April 26. I’m  a country girl at heart and I’ve always felt a little uncomfortable in big cities. I love Paris but I also get tired of it quite easily. So I headed to the chateau vineyard where I thought I could complete my recovery from my Covid illness and work remotely (the work never stops) without too many distractions. 

Unfortunately - or fortunately as I prefer to see it - I was mud deep in trying to rescue our wine harvest for 2021 as frost struck over a few nights that left us reeling, and left much of the country’s wine growing region devastated. No region of France was spared as French wine producers fought valiantly over several nights to stop the frost from letting the buds finally come out to sprout. Wine makers fought with everything they could think of, and in the end resorted to fire to keep the temperature warm enough for the vines to survive the cold snap. It was a spectacular sight all across the horizons of many French wine growing regions including ours.

I’m just thankful to be there at the right place and the right time to help out.

I enjoy coming down to our chateau vineyard as it’s a welcome contrast to the busy city life of Paris. I just couldn’t wait to get dressed up (or dress down?) in tatty old clothing, rolling up my sleeves, and getting my hands dirty with any physical chores to do around the vineyard. I always have this urge to make myself useful instead being stuck behind a desk, bored to death in Zoom call meetings. I was looking forward to running and cycling in the open country air to bust a gut or two.

Mostly though I was looking forward to enjoying home cooked country food, be in the fun company of my two Anglo-Norwegian cousins and their French families, and together we’d be preening over the first shoots of the forthcoming wine harvest for 2021.

It is always an emotional moment at this time of year when we see in the vineyards the glistening tears of the vines (‘les pleurs’) that tell us that the new vintage is underway. As the temperatures rise so does the sap in the vines and where the pruners have trimmed the end of the branch, we see this beautiful sight that reassures us  – telling us whatever happens, nature continues. The baby buds are beginning to come out timidly but soon the stark branches of the vines will be green again as these fragile leaves unfurl in the spring sunlight.

Back in 2020 many vintners (winemakers), not just in our region but across the whole of France, were unsure what 2021 would bring. Would 2021 be a challenging vintage or an easy one full of sunshine? With the growing season starting so early, the first hurdle - and one of the most crucial -  is the fear of late frost. It seems to be more and more of a problem in recent years, this late frost burying any new growth like a fast moving avalanche. For many vintners they have 2017 written into their hearts in painful tears when frost devastated any hope for a healthy harvest and for some even brought financial ruin.

For me - at the time - it was a rude introduction to the vicissitudes of the wine making business by two wine loving cousins co-owning and co-managing an old family owned French vineyard.  Family fortunes rise and fall according to the harvest. All the blood, tears, and sweat poured into running an efficient high yielding grape vineyard comes to naught when you realise that you are not the master, nature is.

The risk of frost has increased in recent years due to global warming, which does not just warm but makes the climate more erratic and temperatures more extreme. Good news for the moderately temperate climate for our wine making region where hotter drier summers have produced a string of good recent vintages (2015, 2016, 2018, 2020). But the negative side of this is that frosts have become more common right up until the end of the usual cycle – last year it was on 6th May.

Except this year, 2021, now looked like 2017 because of the devastation of continued frost on the vines. In talking to the French family of my cousin’s French wife, who have faithfully made wine for a few generations they ruefully pointed out past bad frosts. Apparently 1956 was legendary with a very cold winter frost some minus 20 °C following a warm period when the sap rose from the roots into the vine foot and branches. It killed the vines. The last disastrous late spring frost before 2017 was 1991. It seems to be striking significantly every two years now and a every year to a degree. Who would have expected the devastation again this year, 2021 some forty years on.

This year, particularly around April 7th and 8th, brought despair to vignerons right across France from Champagne to Cognac, Burgundy to Bordeaux as thousands of vineyards’ new growth was obliterated by frost (resulting in zero yield for harvest 2021). There may be some new growth and some secondary budding but this is a repeat of 2017 (if not worse) and few were able to harvest any grapes worth speaking of.

My cousins had been in contact with friends and other peers who are wine makers in other regions (friendships are built at trade shows overseas and other association events) and in totality the picture appeared bleaker than previous years. The scourge of frost had been catastrophic. Around half of the vines in Burgundy have been damaged, according to local producers. Some vineyard owning friends in the Inter Rhône region told us that the whole of the Rhône has been hit dramatically and that some plots are affected 100%.

According to the CNIV, the official French council for wine appellation, the frost has affected 80% of French vineyards. We already know that we will have a very low harvest in 2021. Nearly all French wine growers have just suffered a dark week in April.

It’s not just wine growers but fruit farmers too. It’s been like winter coming in spring. Below-freezing temperatures in the Drome and Ardèche regions of central southern France have led to fruit farmers losing up to 90 percent of their kiwi, apricot, apple, and peach harvest. Even in Bordeaux the severity of the frost damaged the growth on fruit trees such as apricots, peaches and nectarines, and field-crops such as rapeseed and sugar beet.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. How does one protect the vines from frost?

There have been a variety of ways vineyard owners have been dealing with the problem of frost. There’s no one size fits all and the solutions are often handicapped by the size of one’s vineyards, financial resources, and manpower.

Two solutions in fighting frost have been aeolian wind turbines and air fans. It takes the warmer air from higher up, and pushes it to the ground. These machines can raise temperatures by up to 2C. The problem is that some of these wind turbines and air fans are permanently set so they can only be set in one direction whilst others one can wheel around to move the air and stop frost settling. Both are very expensive solutions and the cost may outweigh the gain.

Air heaters are another solution. No less expensive though. One of our vineyard owning neighbours wanted to use paraffin fuelled heaters. But he said he would have needed 4,500 paraffin-fuelled heaters to cover all his 15 hectares at a cost of nearly €50,000 for the two worst nights, and even then growers it would protect only the vines for his finest wines.

Some of the vineyards also launched helicopters to fly above their vineyards, a method that can help to prevent frost by encouraging warm air to circulate. In effect they push the cold air around so that it does not sink down to the ground causing its damage.  I was all for this solution as I’m an ex-army helicopter combat pilot and so I felt my old training could be put to use in civilian helicopters. But we ruled this out once we did the maths. At  about 1600€-2000€ per hour one can only fly from 6am but this is the coldest time when the sun comes up. At best the helicopter’s range of effectiveness was a mere 10 hectares. So you don’t get more bang for your buck. But that didn’t stop some vineyards that we knew doing exactly that. These were corporate owned vineyards who tend to be well heeled and can afford to spare no expense.

There are less expensive solutions but are more costly in terms of manpower.

Some vineyards used water sprinklers, allowing a fine coating hitting sub-zero temperatures as the ice acts like a mini-igloo and protect it from outside colder temperatures.

Conversely, vineyard owners hit upon another relatively low cost solution of using candles. They usually last 12 hours and so in effect can be used for the two crucial nights of severe frost. We calculated that at 10€ a candle you would need 300 for one hectare alone. Of course the chief problem is that they need to be lit by hand and hope the wind was kind.

For the biodynamic wine producers they fell back on organic solutions. They sprayed their vines with a spray composed of pectins from apples which is supposed to lower the temperature around the vines. More common and perhaps more effective was spraying vines with Valerian  to give the vines some added fortification to survive themselves.

By far the most common response by vineyard owners to combat the frost was to burn fires by burning hay bales amongst the vines. The smoke causes a blanket which heats up the atmosphere. In the old days I was told they actually burned rubber tyres! For it to have any chance of being effective you have to be aware of wine direction and make sure the bales are in the right places. It also helps if your neighbours do the same.

Speaking for our chateau vineyard, we had to make tough decisions to see how our chateau vineyard could combat the frost and minimise the damage to the future harvest. Although I own a small financial investment stake in the vineyard I have always deferred to my two cousins who actually run the vineyard with their married partners on a day to day basis. It’s their life long passion and I’m happy to play a small part in getting my hands (literally) dirty in building something from the soil up and for purely selfish reasons, just love being so close to nature itself. The fact that the French family of one my cousin’s wife - they actually owned the land and were reputable wine makers for generations  - added invaluable weight to the wisdom of any decision making we had to do.

We sat around the kitchen table and talked through our options whilst nursing a glass of wine from a past vintage.  My cousins and their kids especially thought I was a weirdo - they’re probably right! It’s not that I enjoy it (the mud, sweat and lack of sleep etc) but it was the challenge that really got me energised. If it’s a forlorn battle against the odds that’s when I really come alive. So I was quite jolly and full of vim whilst those around me were bleary eyed and groaning for bed and a hot shower as we were out in the fields in the dead of night. We ran it like a military operation - thanks to me ha! - I put everyone on detail and even the small kids saluted and got to work on their task. We made sure we had hot soup and beers constantly on tap for our staff and workers to take a food break and take a breather. Not that they needed motivating. Every one of our staff and also volunteers worked bravely to limit the damage.

So in the end we fell upon a series of actions which indeed many of our immediate wine making neighbours also followed suit. We sprayed, we watered, we burned. We tried everything to save our vines from further damage from frost.

We concocted an organic solution that had thyme, oregano, and wild sariette to which we added valerian and meadowsweet and a dash of yarrow and horsetail as well as honey; all of which help the whole organic solution to work. In effect this helps the vine to prepare for ice, by changing the composition of the sap a little, by enriching it with sugar. The infusion is then sprayed onto the vines at least 24 hours before the first freeze is forecast. The solution only works if the temperatures stay just below freezing but no lower, at around -2C or -1C maximum. With this solution on the plants, we could increase temperatures by 1-2 degrees. If it drops even lower, to around -5C, as we had in 2019, it’s not enough. It might save some plants, but not all.

We soon followed with watering the vines using our irrigation system we had on hand. It was labouriously time consuming.

When it was clear that this wasn’t going to work out because of the severe temperature drop we fell on fire as the saving solution.

It was all hands on deck as we also roped in some volunteers to help us start small controlled fires amongst our vines. We burned straw bales and piles of wood in very large jerry cans to save what we could. The aim was to create a blanket of smoke so that when the sun came up it didn't burn the vines because of the humidity. One vineyard neighbour of ours actually used a flame thrower and lit more than 700 small fires but had to start all over again because the fires didn’t last one night.

This was our experience too. We had a lot of hectares to cover and so little man power and so we just worked around the clock until we were able to light fires and keep an eye on them should they go out. We ran between the selected vines to make sure the fires remained lit throughout the night starting around 2am to 6am. I don’t think any of us had more than a few hours sleep over a crucial 48 hour window. We took turns to cook for everyone and made sure everyone was well fed on home cooking as well as hot showers and adequately winter clothed. I’m used to being sweaty and getting by on little sleep from my army days but it’s a measure of how far I’ve succumbed to civilian life that even I found it a little hard going.

I’m not very good at lighting fires as I tend to over compensate on the fuel lighter and I feared that I would burn the whole vineyard down by trying to start a small controlled fire. I got singed here and there but nothing to complain about. Others were just marvellous in their work ethic and shared bonhomie as we tried to save our vineyard. One person on our staff did get singed with flames and in his case we rushed him to hospital with minor third degree burns. We all felt like roasted chestnuts standing between the small fires. But what a spectacular sight the landscape was with all these lighted fires. This wasn’t just our vineyard but all across the landscape of neighbouring vineyards. It looked as if the whole region was on fire. It was quite hypnotising to  look at. As to its effects, it’s harder to discern. I do know that even cities of Lyon and Bordeaux had a layer of smog that was visible to others from far away.

Looking back it was both exhausting and exhilarating to experience such a time. It’s the kind of rite of passage that either breaks you or makes you. For us it certainly brought us all together more tightly than before. With our neighbours too there was a collective sense of togetherness and rather than act selfishly or just worry about our own fortunes, neighbours lent a hand towards each other in terms of equipment, expertise, or voluntary labour.

Perhaps the more wealthy chateau vineyards’ expensive techniques were able to save their best vineyards but most who could afford creating smoke blankets from burning hay bales – they were no match for the frost with temperatures down to minus 5 in some areas. Hopefully insurance had been taken out, which involves a substantial expenditure each year. We are fortunate to have insurance and the damage done to our vineyard has been mitigated to some extent. But I do know for instance that many are not insured against the effects of frost because of the cost of the coverage and many French wine producers were already struggling financially.

It was reported that many chateau vineyards in lesser known areas (Castillon, Bourg, Blaye, Côtes de Franc, Graves, Satellites of St Emilion) who could not afford these payments and who played ‘Russian roulette’, this year lost for perhaps for the last time. For them it’s personally heart breaking. For French wine making it’s a cultural tragedy. It’s hard enough for small independent vineyards (often run by families or young couples with a dream) to survive - the economies of scale as well as being aggressively overshadowed by the high volume output and superior marketing power of wealthy corporate owned vineyards - but never really expected nature, or vicissitudes of global warming, to make it that much more harder to make wine.

Unlike Bordeaux, Burgundy, the Rhone valley, in the Champagne region, we heard that not many Champagne wine producers didn’t even bother fighting the frost because they thought it would have done little good. One of the reasons why so few people engaged in frost protection in Champagne is these wine makers have as their biggest buffer against frost is their Individual Reserve (RI). In case appellation requirements are not met in the vineyard, they can draw from it.

Indeed with sales still stagnating and small yield expectations, growers may have to dip in the RI because frost season is not over till after the Saintes Glaces, a period in the middle of May after which frost generally doesn't appear. But not every vineyard can do that.

To their credit, perhaps recognising the commercial and cultural role French wine has in daily life and international prestige, the French government had agreed to step in to help. President Emmanuel Macron tweeted a picture of a candle-lit vineyard and promised that help was on the way, “À vous, agriculteurs qui, partout en France, avez lutté sans relâche, nuit après nuit, pour protéger les fruits de votre travail, je veux vous dire notre soutien plein et entier dans ce combat. Tenez bon ! Nous sommes à vos côtés et le resterons.” (“To you, farmers who, throughout France, have fought tirelessly, night after night, to protect the fruits of your labour, I want to give you our full support in this fight. Hold on tight! We are by your side and will remain so." )

To that end President Macron has declared an "agricultural disaster" and Prime Minister Jean Castex has promised that the government will provide emergency relief to those who were affected. He has also removed the limit on the amount of financial compensation that can be provided. It said it would help the smaller independent vineyards and co-operatives  with tax breaks as well as pushing banks and insurance companies to help out. It’s unclear if any of this will come to pass or indeed what effect it might have in the short and long term. We shall see.

It’s been estimated that at least a third of French wine production worth nearly € 2 billion (£ 1.7 billion) in sales will be lost this year. It's another blow for France's wine industry whatever assistance is given. The French wine industry has already been dealing with the knock-on effects of the Covid pandemic, with decreases in restaurant orders due to the country's series of lockdowns. Independent producers have been hit hard by the cancellation of wine fairs due to Covid. Then there have been the effects of the tariffs that former President Donald Trump imposed as a result of assorted disputes between the administration and the European Union. In late 2019, Trump hit French wine with a retaliatory 25% import duty, a cost increase that the Economist says contributed to a 14% drop in French wine exports in 2020. Last month in March, the United States and the EU announced a four-month suspension of the tariffs.

But that doesn't necessarily help winegrowers right now - especially since a significant percentage of this year's crop may already be lost. Tradition has it that it is well into May before vine growers can sleep easy without worrying about the risk of further frost damage.

Even though we did our best to save our vines we couldn’t save all of them and even had decide which ones to forgo even trying because we lacked manpower and resources at such short notice. I heard someone amongst ourselves say losing the vines that one has cultivated so lovingly was like the loss of a family member. It may seem puerile, but that is close to what many feel. Perhaps only winegrowers can understand this sentiment, but they have found themselves out in the vines in the morning with tears in their eyes. I’m not one for sentiment and displays of emotion but even I was a little moved to see the heart break in tear filled eyes of some of the older generation who have for decades given their sweat and tears to tilling the soil. We did our best to console one another and remarkably in that crucible we experienced together we all became closer.

What is clear is the tradition of wine - beyond national politics and international trade disputes - is under long term threat from something much more existential. There is a saying amongst the older generation of wine makers in our fertile wine making region who say, ‘wine history is climate history’. Wine making is about the vines, the ‘terroir’ (a French way of saying the earth or the soil), but also the climate. Nature is very much the master and wine makers are but humble servants of the soil. For those who don’t believe in climate change or think it’s overly dramatised by scientists or worse, a hoax, then I would say wake up and smell the coffee. Climate change is real as any wine producer or arable farmer will tell you. Wine can make you do or say many things, but it won’t ever make you tell a wilful lie.

The French wife of my cousin, whose family the vineyard had been for several generations, told us that the wine harvest time used to span her grandfather’s birthday - September 28 - but now, the bustle of harvest is over and cleaned up in time for his birthday party - that’s two to three weeks earlier than when her grandfather used to make the wine. As she memorably put it, things are  “bien cramées” (really screwed up).

All of this means that wine producers will have to change their ways as the climate changes. All the measures taken to combat frost were in reality delaying tactics to fight a losing battle with the climate. The wine industry, not just in France but around the world, needs to evolve if it is to face up to increasing climate challenges. This might include planting more weather-resistant vines that flower later, and are therefore less vulnerable to late frosts and cold snaps.

Wine, in France, is built into the fabric of the culture. The many variety of grapes across the wine growing regions indigenously grow and adapt to the precise climate conditions of the region for centuries. Winemakers know the growth stages intimately: the look of the vines before they bud; the look of the vines as they mature over long seasons; and the fat, sugary, fragrant curve of the grapes when they’re ready to be made into wine.

That harvest point is crucial. Too long on the vine and the grapes have too much sugar in them, meaning the wine will be more alcoholic—not the subtle feel most winemakers in the region care for. Too long, and the acids that give wine some of its feel in the mouth may disintegrate. Not long enough, and they might not have developed the right balance of fragrant chemicals that give the wine its characteristic flavours.

Winemakers keep careful track of harvest dates, with some regions have records stretching back to the Middle Ages. In the 1800s, scientists and historians realised that those careful records could be used to keep track of how the climate in different parts of Europe has changed over time.

Grape harvest date records are the longest records of phenology in Europe. There are hundreds of years of records of what the summer temp was like, and we can use them like a thermometer.

Grape harvest dates reflect the temperature the grapes have felt over the course of the growing season, from about April until they’re picked. If the spring and summer are hot, the grapes mature faster and need to be picked sooner. If they're cool, the opposite is true.

Climate historians started to pull together ancient information from other sources, too. They matched up the patterns in the grape harvest data with records made from tree rings and the length of glaciers in the Alps. They used records like those to figure out that much of central Europe warmed up during the Medieval Warm Period, from around 900 to 1300. It had cooled down during the Little Ice Age, from about the 15th to the 19th centuries.

The historians saw that over the past few hundred years, temperatures wobbled around, skewing warm for short stretches and cooling down in others. But overall, climate rocked up and down around a fairly consistent average value - until recently.

Wine is first and foremost an agricultural product. The grapes used to make it are grown and harvested with intent to be fermented. This means that wine production is vulnerable to the effects of climate change from the tangible health of vines to the taste and quality of the finished bottling they create. So for this reason, all winemakers see themselves as being on the front line to see what happens with the weather, with the climate. The fluctuations we have today are more significant than any time before.

If you don’t believe any of this or think wine producers are exaggerating the dangers, then taste your wine the next time you open a bottle. The chances are it has a high alcohol content. This is no accident. Because of the changes in temperature world wide, the alcohol content of wines has bumped up from about 12% in the 1970s to about 14% today. Of course that number varies from region to region and is also due to the wine maker’s preference. But a large part of it is because grapes are maturing faster in the heat. The more sugar they accumulate, the more of it is converted to alcohol during the winemaking process.

Warming has also caused the boundaries of viable growing area to swell. Typically, successful vineyards have been found between 30 and 50 degrees latitude. But as global average temperatures continue to climb, the most ideal areas to plant are moving farther from the equator. Now, areas as far up as the island of Föhr and Stargarder Land in Mecklenburg, at the tip-top of Germany, are legally permitted to produce table wines. Belgium, whose vinous history has been overshadowed by its beer culture, quadrupled production between 2006 and 2018; it’s forecasted to become a champion, alongside Finland, Sweden and other boreal climes. Shockingly, even England has also successfully entered the modern fine wine scene.

With better wine from regions we know and new wine from previously uncharted areas, it may appear the wine world is becoming better off. In truth, however, this is a thin silver lining to ever-worsening viticultural challenges.

If the growing season becomes too hot, fruit will push through its life cycle too quickly and characteristics like tannins and anthocyanins, the compounds responsible for giving grape skins their colour, won’t develop properly. Muted acid and increased alcohol levels are also possible and often undesirable.

Variations between daytime and nighttime temperatures are in jeopardy as well. In warmer growing regions, that difference can be crucial to achieving freshness and encouraging certain flavour and aroma development.

Intense heat or too much direct sunlight can lead to dried fruit notes or create flabby and dull wines. Fruit that’s left too long on the vine can be damaged from sunburn or may simply shrivel. Vines may just shut down to protect themselves.

This is already happening in some places. Wine growers in northern Italy have already seen sunburnt crops with increasing frequency. The summer of 2019 in Southern Australia was the hottest since national records began in 1910, and it ushered in an 8% loss of white wine varieties, with Chardonnay dropping 12% to its lowest yield in the past five years. Growers in Priorat, Spain, reported devastating vine damage, scorched leaves and desiccated grapes when temperatures shot up to a record 107.6˚F.

Climate change is complicated, however, and, even though temperature is the most influential factor in overall growth and productivity of wine grapes, there’s more than rising mercury to think about.

Winter, and all of its prescriptions, is one of those other things. We typically talk about warming, yet, freezes during the winter or extreme frost in the spring don’t go away. They may become less frequent, but potentially more severe. A decrease in regular winter frosts may also encourage the spread of pests and insect-borne diseases that would normally die off during cold seasons.

Moisture is pivotal. Too much rain approaching or during harvest can lead to watery grapes and a weak vintage. Similar to mild winters, damp, soggy and humid conditions open the door to a variety of pests, fungi, mildew and disease pressures.

All of these intricacies and others work in conjunction with temperature to dictate what vines can successfully grow where and for how long—and all are increasingly unpredictable or totally upended in the face of climate change.

The people who grow, make and sell wine are tuned in to these nuances.

A greater number of producers are rethinking canopy management, vine trellising or pruning techniques, developing cover crops and extensive shading methods, increasing vineyard biodiversity and finding ways to reuse water.

Still, there are some challenges that cannot be overcome.

In the future, I expect growers to struggle with maintaining varieties in certain regions without major interventions. If they don’t make major changes, wine producers will see declining yields - already seen in Europe - and declining quality as the varieties become increasingly mismatched to the climate.

Producers have begun grafting new rootstocks and experimenting with different grapes. In South Africa, Vinpro, aided tests of drought-resistant varieties including Assyrtico and Marselan, for example. Australian producers have tried Italian grapes like Fiano, Vermentino and Nero d’Avola that thrive in warmer settings.

In Old World regions, where grapes and blends may be prescribed by law, the idea of swapping plantings is monumental.

Bordeaux is one such place, and, at a 2019 General Assembly meeting, it finally relented. The Union of Bordeaux AOC and Bordeaux Supérieur winemakers unanimously approved a list of seven “varieties of interest for adapting to climate change”: Arinarnoa, Castets, Marselan, Touriga Nacional, Alvarinho, Liliorila and Petit Manseng.

The approval of these new plantings signals just how committed the region is to preserving the future of fine wine.

Each of the various tactics being implemented worldwide take lots of time, tests and research. Some experienced wine producers think it would take about 21 years to change course because of how long it takes to plant vines, grow grapes, and then create and age a wine; finding sustainable farming practices for a plot takes trial and error.

Further, the methods being devised now may not be applicable down the road. Though there are several models in use to try and predict changes, they are attempting to track a nonlinear problem that’s dependent on a range of forthcoming scenarios.

Basically, the only thing we do know for certain is that it will get warmer, and that we may be able to anticipate that heat before it hits us.We have to be asking what we can do now to preserve the integrity of the grapes and vineyards we work with and look for where our opportunities are to continue making wine. The one line that works for everyone is to cut carbon emissions, that is the emergency action that needs to be taken. 

We’re all starting to see this and we’re all affected. We know we can’t turn it backwards, and we’re not even sure we can slow it down. But we have to try.

Think on all this the next time you take a sip of wine.

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 2, chapter 1

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Content warnings: sex work mention, one noncon kiss, minor noncon touch (suggestive but not sexual)

Morgan was deeply uncomfortable. The caravan ride had been entertaining, at least for him. Cain was delighted to have an attentive audience, and after divulging all he knew about the events currently unfolding - Diablo's corruption and influence spreading, the dark wanderer last seen heading east and his possible motives - he had expounded at length on his theories about the forces of Heaven and Hell and what moves they might make next. He also shared tales of the time he'd spent in the desert cities in his younger days, and anything else that happened across his mind. It seemed he had an unlimited capacity for storytelling. Morgan liked it, content to absorb as much knowledge as he could.

However, once they'd reached their destination, they had been almost immediately ushered to the palace by a taciturn guard armed with a very sturdy-looking spear. Cain had already slipped away, ostensibly in pursuit of an old acquaintance, but both Blaise and Morgan found themselves visiting the sultan unexpectedly.

Upon their arrival, the man, who introduced himself as Jerhyn, had actually been quite friendly. He had somehow heard about their defeat of Andariel and was eager to pay for their assistance with problems that had arisen in his city. The mercenary guild was struggling to maintain their ranks in the face of increasing demonic activity. Blaise had agreed to join them readily; working together with a group to combat monsters and demons was well within her comfort zone. Morgan was trying to delicately express his preference to work alone, but the sultan was being insistent and it was proving difficult to argue.

The problem he was experiencing was rooted in the attack the harem guild had sustained weeks earlier, prompting Jerhyn to offer the members shelter within his spacious palace. Priests of Rathma had no particular rules with regards to celibacy, but surrounded as he was now by women and men in various states of undress, Morgan found himself wishing they did. He'd never managed to grasp the allure of intimate relations. He was aware of it as a possible motivation for the actions of others - there was a long list of those - but he'd resigned himself to simply not understanding it. The guild members flocked around Jerhyn, all flashing jewels and rustling silks. It was impossible to look at the man without seeing an astonishing amount of bare flesh. Of course Morgan was familiar with the human body, had helped with preparations for some of the more involved burial rites, but this was different. It felt like an invasion of privacy, despite the fact that the display was clearly intentional. His discomfort was making it difficult to negotiate.

Blaise, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself, gazing around with frank admiration. When Jerhyn finally relented, allowing them until the morning to come to a final decision, she grinned wolfishly.

"Does that mean we get to spend the night here?"

Jerhyn smiled indulgently. "Of course, if you wish it. You may stay as long as you like. Any of the companions here can show you to the guest chambers. Please, enjoy yourselves."

Morgan stood and bowed politely before turning to leave. A heavy hand came down on his shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" Blaise hissed next to his ear.

"To find an inn," he whispered back. Her grip tightened and he fought the urge to pry her fingers off of him. It would not be wise to make a scene so soon after their introduction, he reminded himself. No matter that he was already uncomfortable to start with, and it was only getting worse.

"You know it's incredibly rude to turn down an invitation like this, right," she pointed out. He... yes, he did know that, now that he thought about it. The overwhelming desire to be anywhere else was impeding his ability to remember all the rules of social interaction. He did not outwardly protest as Blaise steered him back toward the crowd of concubines. "Have a little fun for once," she said at a more normal volume, pushing him into the waiting embrace of a pale, slender young woman before turning away to mingle.

"Nice to meet you, sweetheart," the woman purred, running her hand down his chest. He tried not to shrink away from the contact. "Let me show you to your room. Don't worry, you don't have to be shy with me." She flashed him a dazzling smile.

"Thank you," he managed. She took him by the hand and led him down a staircase and up a corridor while he alternated between looking at his feet and looking at the ceilings. They appeared to be intricately painted tiles, but the details were lost on him.

Morgan heaved a small sigh of relief when she stepped into a room, beckoning him to follow with a wink. Finally, a respite. He opened his mouth to thank her for her guidance, but she muffled him with a kiss, pressing him into the doorway. He froze for a long, panicked second, torn between the desire to push her away and the lack of any adequately clothed spot on her body to push against. As she raised her arms to embrace him, that did it. He reached up to shove against her shoulder, leaning away.

"What are you doing?" he gasped.

"Showing you a good time, sweetie." He was not having a good time. She went to lean in again and he wriggled free, ducking under her arm and backing away into the room.

"Please, don't." He kept his hand raised to ward her off. She pouted.

"What, you don't like me?"

Not especially. The invasion into his personal space had been unexpected and unwelcome. "I'm sure you're... quite lovely," he said haltingly - it was more of a guess than a lie - "but I'm not... interested in... that." He gestured vaguely, hoping to somehow encapsulate the concept of physical intimacy.

A look of understanding dawned on her face, to Morgan's relief. "Oh. Oh! Sorry about that. I can usually guess. Your friend seemed pretty sure down there, doesn't she know...? Oh well, just sit tight, I'll get out of your hair." She flashed him that bright smile again as she left.

Morgan sat wearily on the edge of the bed. New places were exhausting, and he still had to figure out how to convince the sultan that he would gladly help the mercenaries as long as he was permitted to engage with them as little as possible. How best to frame it? He tested a few different scenarios in his head, starting to build a script from the pieces that seemed most compelling. It was laborious enough that he didn't notice the figure at the entrance to the room until it spoke.

"Not a lot of people turn down Meera's company. Perhaps I'll be a little more to your liking."

"Please, I just - um." He'd started to answer before looking up, and found himself wholly unprepared for the vision that greeted him. The most breathtakingly beautiful person he'd ever seen was leaning casually against the doorway. He smiled at Morgan, a flash of pearly teeth bright against the deep umber of his skin, and moved in to perch on the edge of the bed beside him.

"My name is Jemali. What should I call you?" He laid a delicate hand on Morgan's thigh. That broke the spell. Why did these people insist on so much physical contact?

"Morgan," he said, sliding away from the other man. "I don't like being touched," he added.

"You say that," Jemali smiled, edging closer, "but you've never been touched by me. I'd remember a face as handsome as yours." He reached out to caress Morgan's cheek, but he ducked away from the contact, standing and backing away.

"I don't like being lied to, either." The flattery was over the top. A particularly kind and tactful person might go so far as to describe him as distinctive, but that was just a polite way to skirt around the issue. He was ugly. That was an objective fact. There was no point in trying to disguise or deny it.

"Morgan, honey, I'm not - look, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Let's start over." He patted the bed next to him. Morgan did not move. Jemali sighed. "At least meet me halfway here. I'm trying to please you. If you don't want Meera and you don't want me, what do you want?"

"To rest after a long journey." His patience was wearing thin and he didn't want any sort of company, no matter how lovely they might be to look at. "I just want to be alone."

Jemali arched an eyebrow. "You have a free shot with the finest concubines money can buy, and you don't want to take it?"

"I do not."

"You a eunuch or something?' He cast an appraising glance at Morgan's trousers.

"No."

"Well, now you have me curious." He sprawled across the bed, stretching long limbs to claim the space. "What possible reason could you have to turn both of us down like this? We aren't used to the sting of rejection, you know." He pouted.

"Is it not enough-" he closed his eyes briefly. Irritation was a loss of control, a failure to adhere to the principles that guided him. Plus, raising his voice was starting to hurt his throat. He took a calming breath and tried again. "I don't desire anyone's company. Please just accept that."

"Fine. You don't have to tell me." Jemali rolled over onto his stomach, propping his face up on his hands. "Akarat knows I could use a break anyway. So tell me about yourself, Morgan. Or don't you like talking, either?"

"Not really."

Jemali rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Just my luck, too. Stoic adventurer types are usually right up my alley, but you're going to be a tough nut to crack. I can tell. Don't-" he held up one finger to cut off Morgan's next words before they'd left his mouth, "- don't ask me to leave, because I will, but nobody's going to believe we've finished so quickly. And we're on orders from the sultan to see to you and your friend, so that means I'll have to send in someone else and you'll have to go through this all over again. So just let me sit here for... oh, an hour or so, and then we can both be on our merry ways."

"Fine."

Morgan seated himself in a plush chair opposite the bed, since the other man seemed to be making himself comfortable and he wanted to stay out of his reach. The following silence lasted for nearly a minute before Jemali's voice jolted Morgan out of his thoughts.

"So you must be some sort of wizard." Jemali was studying him, head tilted in what must have been a practiced pose. It was impossible for a person to look so thoroughly statuesque by chance. "You don't have the build to be a fighter. Are you any good? I mean, you must be, or else you wouldn't be here enjoying my company." He stretched languorously. Was he even capable of being still? "Oh, what a story! A strong, silent sorcerer, come to protect us from the clutches of foul demons! This could have been almost romantic, you know. What a waste." He splayed long fingers dramatically across his bare chest, casting his eyes up toward the ceiling.

Ah, yes, the demons. Perhaps he could get some useful information out of this encounter. "Were you there?"

"Was I there when - oh, you want to talk about that." Jemali hugged one knee to his chest, running the edge of a painted fingernail along his bottom lip. "No. No, I was lucky enough to be on a house call. Lost some friends, though." So he could be still after all. Morgan winced. Of course this lively individual had been friends with the victims. Of course the memories would be painful. He hadn't meant to distress him, even though he'd just been hoping for some peace and quiet.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he offered. The other man's lips quirked upward.

"Thanks, honey. That's nice of you to say." He gave a small sigh. "You want to know what you're up against, huh?"

"If I can."

"Smart. Now, we don't make a habit of judging our clientele, but everyone agrees there was a suspicious character who came through just beforehand. Refused to take off his cloak or even pull down his hood. Didn't want anything, just asked a lot of questions and left. Really strange. The demons showed up a few hours later."

Morgan leaned forward. That sounded like it could have been the dark wanderer Cain had described. "Do you know what he asked?"

Jemali shrugged. "Something about old myths, some sort of tomb or something. I don't know."

That would be enough to start with. He could question the sultan in the morning and go from there. Hunting for information was easy enough to justify as an individual task. If the wanderer was looking for something old, that might give him occasion to scour the city archives for information, a pleasantly solitary task. It could also be a justification for working with Deckard Cain, who clearly had some familiarity with the area. The scholar was a useful resource, he reminded himself. It was just a bonus that he liked the old man's company. Things were starting to come together.

Morgan leaned back, satisfied. The action made the collection of small pouches on his belt dig uncomfortably into his side, pushed out of place by the plush stuffing of the chair. He stood to remove them, but of course nothing could go without comment.

"What's all that?"

He considered his options. Ignoring the question seemed unlikely to work, given Jemali's persistence. A vague answer would just lead to more questions, and he didn't particularly want to get into the details of his profession. It might solve the pressing issue of privacy for the moment, but word would inevitably spread, and that could hinder his effectiveness with the sultan. Or get him expelled from the city, depending on the citizens' mood. It wouldn't be the first time. Might as well give a brief explanation.

"Potions. Ingredients for potions. Dried foods. Trinkets." He pointed at each pouch as he named its contents.

Jemali's face lit up. "What kind of trinkets? Like jewels? Oh, can I look at them?"

They were mainly jewellery. Sometimes a skeleton rose with some trappings of its former life still intact - clothes, weapons, baubles. At some point Morgan had started collecting the ones that were particularly appealing to him. The dead generally had no use for possessions. Sometimes he bartered them for supplies, which was useful enough to justify the collection. Sometimes he traded them for other, prettier baubles. To further aid him in his travels, he told himself. Nicer trinkets fetched him more supplies. But he also liked to just look at them sometimes, to appreciate their shapes and the way light played off their surfaces.

He passed the small bag to the courtesan at arm's length. Jemali upended it over the bed in front of him, spreading out the contents to admire them. Morgan, in turn, settled back in his chair and admired Jemali now that his attention was elsewhere. People didn't generally appreciate being stared at, he knew, but everything about the man was arresting. The shape and warm colour of his eyes, the smooth slopes of his skin, the slick, uniform coils of his hair. Even his movements were effortlessly graceful. His voice was easy to listen to, soft and lilting.

"Lost in contemplation of my beauty, hmm?"

Mortifyingly, he was right. "I - I'm sorry. For staring." Morgan averted his eyes. Stupid to have let himself get so distracted. He really did need to rest.

"You don't have to apologize, darling. Clearly you have excellent taste in pretty things," Jemali purred, playing his fingers first over the array of baubles in front of him and then drawing them up to frame his face. He batted his eyelashes. "You sure you don't want a little taste of this?"

"Quite sure." The threat of physical contact was enough to put Morgan back on the defensive. He shifted uncomfortably.

Jemali tilted his head. "You're a funny little puzzle, Morgan. Tell you what, let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"I'll tell the others that you've requested to be my exclusive client. They won't bother you if they know you're mine," he grinned.

It would have been preferable for the guild to ignore him entirely, but he supposed dealing with a single courtesan would be much easier than trying to explain himself over and over. At least this one seemed to understand his request not to be touched.

"And in exchange?"

Jemali reclined fully, wriggling his shoulders into the sheets. "You let me come and go as I please. I don't have a good place here to take a break when I need some alone time. I'll be as quiet as a little mouse, you'll hardly know I'm here."

He considered. It seemed favourable, provided he could count on Jemali to actually be quiet when he needed to concentrate. But would the guild really keep bothering him as long as he stayed here? Or was Jemali overstating the issue to get what he wanted? He eyed the other man warily.

"And I promise I won't lay a finger on you without your permission," he added. That was enough to tip the scales.

"We have a deal."

"Wonderful!" Jemali clapped his hands together and sat up. "Now let's seal it with a kiss, as a matter of tradition... oh, honey, it's all right, I'm just teasing. I said I'll respect your personal space, and honestly I meant it. I'm sorry, Morgan, you don't have to look so scared."

He clenched his jaw. He wasn't scared of being touched, he just didn't want it. Especially not from someone teasing him. Of course, he should have been expecting it. Tiredness and discomfort had interfered with his usual defenses. And if he was honest with himself, so had the peaceful journey, and so had the man's unexpected beauty. He had to remember that he'd earned a measure of respect from his traveling companions, that he couldn't expect the same sort of treatment from a stranger. Especially not such a pretty one, when he was just the opposite. That was just the way the world worked.

"I am going to rest here," he said, closing his eyes and hoping he could take Jemali at his word to leave him be. That ought to end the conversation.

"You can use the bed, you know."

"This is fine."

"All right, suit yourself." True to his word, Jemali was quiet. Morgan could hear the sheets rustle as he made himself comfortable, and shortly afterward his breathing grew slow and deep. Once he was sure the other man was asleep, he finally felt comfortable enough to slip into a light meditation.

It was nearly two hours later by Morgan's count when Jemali gave a soft, almost musical sigh as he awoke and stretched. There were some quiet sounds of fabric and jewellery shifting as he arranged himself, then the soft pat of his feet hitting the floor. "Until next time, darling," he said in a low whisper, and then he let himself out.

Morgan waited a few minutes before relaxing back into a deeper meditation. The chair was actually quite comfortable, much better than the back of the caravan. There was no need to move to the bed. Tomorrow he would meet with the sultan, well rested and hopefully on his own terms. He was cautiously looking forward to it.

[takadanobaba]

Jin Norizuki’s Birthday PriZoom 7/18/2021

Oh the things I do for Jin Norizuki

That was SUCH an experience. I had a lot of fun!! 

Main takeaway is that I am now acutely aware of when to YO in a song

(Okay so this is my first time attending a prizoom (or even any kinpri screening outside of Luna’s sss rabbit sessions!) so this is all entirely new to me and I can’t really compare it to much, but I figured that it’d be good to write up a report of sorts to fill in for Luna in a way!)

The prizooms are also accessible to everyone and don’t require any Japanese info confirmation!! If you’re interested in attending please go and support kinpri!!!

(Note: I think about Jin wayyyy too much and interpret them as nonbinary, so I use they/them pronouns for Jin. It’s just automatic for me at this point and feels weird otherwise haha so I’ll be doing that in this)

Jin is my all time favorite character and love of my life who I’m extremely delusional about so when a prizoom was announced for their birthday I went INSANE because I didn’t expect Jin’s birthday to be acknowledged AT ALL given how they’re usually excluded/treated like a side character (+ kinpri’s been putting out little to no content lately anyways....haha....). I was waiting in anticipation ever since it was announced (around June 6th) and even put in a time-off request for my work the day of its announcement just so I could attend!!!! ........ You can imagine my frustration at kinpri waiting until the very last minute to put out details about Jin’s prizoom ^^;

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 

Also!! I’m a complete ~ foreigner ~ and managed to get tickets perfectly fine with my American credit card (and putting in some very obviously Not-An-Actual-Resident-Of-Japan address info...)! So if anyone’s curious about attending a prizoom but worried about region-locking, it’s possible! Very possible! If you’re interested in it, please go! You don’t need to have a Japanese phone number/credit card/address/etc. to purchase PriZoom tickets on RakutenTicket! It’s such an experience! If you need any help buying tickets then I’d be more than happy to assist!! Please support the PriZoom screenings and help increase the demand for more kinpri content!!!!!!!!!!!! I will personally become a living prizoom advertisement

(Also if any kinpri staff find this: I’m sorry for not respecting rules this time but I just wanted to provide a detailed account of the prizoom event and encourage participation for other foreign fans! I won’t do this again!!!)

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 

I only attended the first and third showings (consisting of the first movie and Over the Sunshine!) because I wanted to see the new/not currently archived content (the second/pride the hero showing’s bonus was just Jin’s birthday video by Joji which I already revisit little too much ahaha). I also went to the chat-only rooms because I wasn’t very confident that I wouldn’t be awkward with my nonexistent cheering experience and intent to just observe what its like (despite knowing that the cheering rooms are more fun based on what Luna said haha). That, and I was planning on using the EXTREMELY OBNOXIOUS soundboard of ABSOLUTE CHAOS for everything since I have issues with voice dysphoria and figured it’d be good to stick to the room with that normalized as the one and only cheering method so participating would be a little less annoying to others, since we’d all have the same idea ^^;

I’m more active on twitter and follow/am mutuals with pretty much anybody who likes Jin enough to post about them, so it was cool seeing almost everyone there! At least half of them tweeted about this being their first prizoom haha. Jin’s birthday was also promoted as a good introduction to prizooms since the first showing was set at a price point of 718 yen instead of the usual 1,760 yen? So, lots of first timers attending! I guess most people had the same thought process as me about the whole insecure-about-not-being-used-to-proper-cheering/using-their-mic thing? Because most of my twitter following ended up in the chat-only rooms with me! Fun!

Also interesting how most people chose the male voice option for the cheering soundboard feature since there’s actually only 2 men who love Jin like that (I’m included in that number!!) in the Jin-obsessed twitter circle. I guess it was because it sounds kinda Joji-ish? and therefore fitting for an event dedicated to Jin! What with them being meant for each other and all.... Plus being Joji is just a fun way to play off having issues about using your own voice (I... project onto Joji a lot.)

👆 👆 👆

Okay I actually typed up all of the above during the second showing (since I wasn’t occupied attending that one) and everyone had the same train of thought and was definitely being Joji. You know that one “song” in Over the Sunshine- Glorious Schwarz- consisting of Joji just going wild infodumping for 3.5 minutes? Yeah EVERYONE who selected the male voice option was spamming 「おれもー！」/ “ME TOO!!!” during that (including me!). So it was like:

“I weighed 4646 grams at birth! ☆” 

“MMMMEMEEMEMMT MEE ME MEEE EMME ME   ME TOO M M ME TOO”

SO OBNOXIOUS. I LOVE IT. EVERYONE SHARING THE SAME BRAINCELL. THE JOJI BRAINCELL.

💙

The highlight of the prizoom  (in my opinion) was when some guy repeatedly hit よっ！/ YO! to the music in the first movie, which then led to everyone having a collective ~ Realization ~ 

After that happened, everybody joined in and started YO!-ing along in the other lives. Beautiful.

(Blurred recording of Dramatic Love and Showcase Night just so YO!u can see what I mean.)

(I only did those two to test screen recording after failing to archive the first Jin bonus while using the soundboard feature in the first showing, initially I didn’t intend to record anything but the bonuses and will not be doing that anymore. If you attend, don’t be like me or worse!!!! Please!! I’ll delete these if needed/after a few weeks. Also just wanted to mention that Koi no Royal Straight Flush is up there in Kinpri’s Most YO!-able songs)

I love this soundboard feature. Sounds like hell. Prizooms are truely a new form of art because of it. Amazing how cheering screenings have evolved over a pandemic. Music feels empty to me without the YO!s now. After this I ended up listening to the entire kinpri discography so I could determine the YO!ability of each song. Not sure if every prizoom is like that? But I really want to go to more showings just for the community experience! I’m morbidly curious as to how many people would try to YO! to Platonic Sword. I considered going to Rei’s because they’re showing Shiny Rose Stars, but I probably won’t though since money and sleep are things (They really should make tickets no more than 1,000 yen.... they’re zoom meetings with audio problems....THE AUDIO ISSUES ARE FUN THOUGH! YOU CAN SPAM “GANBATTE” WITH EVERYONE!!) Plus while I do like every kinpri character, none of the street boys are really my favorites and going to every showing regardless of character would be a lot. I assumed that I was only going to try attending Joji’s until they announced that they were gonna do something for Jin!! So if you want to see what it’s like PLEASE get tickets and experience it for yourself!! It’s so much more fun participating !!!! Relying on 1-2 people to post event summaries isn’t exactly consistent coverage of every prizoom either!

\ よっ！/      \ よっ！/      \ よっ！/

So much of this is a community experience that you just have to see for yourself! It’s really cool seeing people go all out for their favorites and just going wild. Notable participants include:

- Two separate people just working out the entire time (one of them doing “Prism Exercise” meaning very high effort full-body cheering and dancing? It was really impressive seeing them go all-out for such a long time!)

- Two (2!) Ai cosplayers!!! One attending the prizoom with a Jin cosplayer!!

- The lady who cosplayed Jin in their cute green pre-retirement prism star outfit WITH A HUGE JIN PUPPET IN THE SAME STYLE AS THE SHUFFLE PUPPETS IN THE STAGEPLAY!!!

- That one person who just had a Minato fish head on the entire time (?!)

- A Victoria cosplayer who showed off a really nice!! drawing of Jin they did during the participant showcase at the end of the screenings

- The person with a REALLY CUTE!!!!! homemade Jin plushie!!

- Two people who attended with 3D/vtuber style models of the Go Go Glorious! (YMT29 subunit) members: Noel Tokyo and Mikado Shibuya (who also had a model of Ai!)

- A really cute Joji vtuber model!

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙

The bonuses were Jin’s birthday video from 2016 and a birthday message of sorts from Jin!

I actually didn’t manage to properly archive the first one as intended because things went horribly wrong so I ended up with nothing but just a terrible (said affectionately) little recording of the soundboard I linked earlier. But whatever I shouldn’t be doing that anyways. Hopefully kinpri includes that and the other prizoom bonuses in something later.... the thought of any content being stuck as lost media terrifies me. I don’t have a good enough memory or a high enough Japanese proficiency level to type it out but it wasn’t particularly analyzable or anything (telling that to myself to make me feel better about losing it). Just the usual Jin being dramatic and going on an evil monologue. Jin being evil ASMR. I lovingly burned another one of Jin’s evil laughs into my mind too so there’s that.

For the 3rd showing bonus however I did not fail though it’s arguably the less interesting bonus of the two since it’s unvoiced. I really love Jin’s voice. Big sexy. Actual dialogue is pretty similar to each other from what I’ve gathered (ending with one of Jin’s cute little アーーーッハッハッハッ！！！！！’s (the text effect for the unvoiced bonus was an appreciated detail!). 

(I’m not very confident in my ability to provide a good translation so I’ll just not embarrass myself)

“ AAAaAAaHAHAAHAAa ~ ! ! ! ! ! ! ! “

💙

Yes Jin I’ll support you in the future-!!! ヾ(>▽ <、 )

I’ll never not be obsessed but it’d still be nice to have more substantial content to gush about and do that with.... Kinpri come back and release an anime continuation.... give me the Jin plot development....kinpri come back my happiness is a little too reliant on you

After the showings you get an email asking for feedback which is cool! I’ve been waiting to complain about how 法月 is written as Noriduki instead of Norizuki for the longest time but I never had a chance until now haha. Makes it so painful for me to buy Jin merch. Also begged for an anime continuation. I wonder how much they take into account feedback? I guess I’ll see when/if they start writing Jin’s name how it’s supposed to be.

ANYWAYS

IF YOU WANT TO GO TO A PRIZOOM, DO IT!

Prism shows really are best experienced with a community!!! If you like kinpri it’s a GREAT OPPORTUNITY to experience what a cheering screening is like with the Japanese fanbase from the comfort of your very own home which is most likely nowhere near Japan!! Everyone should experience prism shows!!!! I have no regrets and I’m still so hyped from the prism sparkle!!!

ANYBODY CAN ATTEND AND BUY TICKETS EVEN WITHOUT JAPANESE INFORMATION!!!

 \\   GLORIOUS SCHWARZ!   //

[haro-whumps]

This is a crossover fanfic between my boy Galo and @whumping-every-day 's character Mutt (and Trev, sort of)

--

Galo wasn't entirely sure of the series of events that had led him here. Auntie Maggie's step-son from her first marriage had a friend who had a slave and the friend and his sister had gotten pulled away on an emergency and needed someone to watch after the slave while they were gone, and their usual dog sitter wasn't "emotionally suitable."

Galo's cousin (was that the right word? They only barely counted as relatives) had moved away but had given the friend, Trev, Galo's phone number and, admittedly, he was only a few hours' drive away. Nyla could take care of them all for an evening, but the other guy, "Mutt," was not so stable as all that, and Galo liked long car rides.

He liked having someone to commiserate with, too, for all that Trev and he seemed to operate on fundamentally different wavelengths. Someone who got the "holy shit walking on eggshells" thing. Also the "ah, I have a surprisingly evil dead relative" thing. Being that Trev was from across state lines, and that his state apparently had different safety constraints and standards of living for slaves, Trev had it worse than Galo. Sorry for that guy.

Well sorry for Mutt first and foremost. Absolutely sorry for Mutt FIRST and foremost.

God, his name was "Mutt" how fucked up was that. But Galo got the situation, more or less, and had Trev text him the dietary restrictions and routine so Galo had somewhere to reference it. Galo pulled to a halt in front of the farm house, wheels churning over the gravel, and shot Trev a text letting him know he'd arrived.

Galo opened the screen door with a creak, letting himself into what was effectively a complete stranger's home, in the middle of nowhere, entirely alone. Galo was aware that if this was a horror movie, he'd be the opening chump, but he also weighed over two hundred pounds of unnecessarily tall bone and thick muscle, so.

He let out a friendly whistle and three sets of paws bounded through the house, and Galo laughed as he held out his loosely curled fists for sniffing and licking. "Hey pretties!" he greeted, not shouting but loud in a way that would carry through the building, letting Mutt hear him, hear him being friendly and in a good mood. "Okay, outside. Outside for pretty dogs," he said and held open the screen door, and two bolted past. The third wagged its tail and shuffle-shuffle-stepped before sitting down, panting up at Galo with tail a-wagging.

"Hi there," Galo said with an arched eyebrow, smiling at the dog. It pat-pat-patted it's feet again the floor and shuffled a little closer on its rump, then rolled its head back with a awoowoo and a chuff.

"Am I not giving you enough immediate attention?" Galo asked, using his heel to keep the door open and reaching down to pet the dog, who tried very hard to lick Galo's face. Seemingly satisfied, the dog eventually bolted out to join the other two, and Galo let the door close with a smile.

"Mutt?" Galo called gently, moving into the kitchen and setting his computer bag down on a clear spot of counter. Trev and his sister had clearly not been expecting guests, but that was sort of implied with the whole "emergency" coming up bit. A flicker of motion caught Galo's eye.

"Hey," Galo greeted softly, voice pitched down low and quiet. "There's the shining star. Did Trev let you know I was coming?" Galo asked. He knew for a fact that Trev had, that the only reason he'd left before Galo got there was because, well, emergency, but it was a gentle way to prompt Mutt into remembering that Galo was supposed to be there.

Mutt nodded, arms crossed at the wrist in front of his chest, and Galo slowly crouched down onto his haunches. "Good. Good boy."

Mutt perked. Galo's smile turned a little more genuine. "Yeah, I've heard all about how good you are. Do you wanna come a little closer or do you feel like personal space is a good way to start?" Galo asked, careful to phrase it so both options seemed positive. He would, ideally, create less stress over the "right choice" and prompt Mutt to choose a more honest one.

Mutt shuffled a little, lips parting, and Galo kicked himself mentally. "Oh, you can speak," he added, voice still carefully gentle. "Talking is good; I like hearing what others have to say."

"Um, can, can, can I--cl, closer s-sir?"

"Yeah," Galo said with a smile, pleased Mutt had chosen that one. He held out a hand in a loose fist, like he had for the dogs, and slid his fingers together in an almost-snap. "C'mere, kitten."

It was a gamble, Galo knew, but hopefully the "wrong" nickname would disorient Mutt just enough to set him off balance and cut through the fear. It seemed to work, Mutt looking surprised as he stumbled forward and slid down onto his knees near Galo. He cautiously rubbed the loose backs of his fingers over Mutt's shorn hair, thumbing gently at a scar on his scalp, and Mutt...

It was a very, very gradual process, but Mutt melted. He leaned into Galo's hand, and Galo tugged him just a little closer, and he melted into that, so Galo pulled him closer, and after three quarters of an hour of careful coaxing Mutt was puddled up against Galo's side, Galo seated on the kitchen tile and scratching his hair with one hand and petting his back with the other.

He was gonna have friction-red palms from the hair and shirt but oh it was so worth it.

"There's a good boy," Galo murmured for the hundredth time. "You settled right on in, didn't you?"

Mutt made a contented little noise and Galo debated whether it was worth it to try and wrestle his phone out of his pocket to send a picture to Trev. Then one of the dogs started barking to be let back in and Mutt startled, badly, Galo getting an elbow right in the diaphragm. Fortunately, Mutt was very small and weak. Unfortunately, a slave had just hurt Galo and he was already feeling a little deja vu.

"S-s-sooor-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please, please, not the barn please no no I'll be good don't punish me--"

"Oh I'm not allowed to do that," Galo said as casually as he could manage, and it worked. The idea that Galo, a very large free person, wasn't "allowed" something shocked Mutt right out of his panicked babbling, and Galo mentally fistpumped. Crisis more or less averted. "You're not mine, kitten. Trev asked me to come make sure you and the dogs get fed and taken care of; I don't have permission to punish you."

Galo stood, Mutt's wide eyes following him, utterly gobsmacked. "Besides," he said, stretching out his lower back because oof, floor, "I know you didn't mean it. You're still good."

Galo opened the door and the three hounds came bounding in, Galo giving them pets and scritches, performative with how fine and content he was. No big deal. Nothing that was happening was a big deal.

"Hey, kitten," he said idly, grabbing his laptop bag off the counter, "can you show me where the living room and bathroom are? Don't wanna go around snooping or anything."

Mutt did, and Galo told him he was good along with a friendly, easy-to-see-coming pat on the head. Galo settled onto the couch and was immediately joined by a large German Shepherd mix.

"Oof."

The dog was unrepentant.

"Hey there," Galo said, manhandling the dog off of him so its snout was on his thigh, its big doggy body on the couch cushions, and he gave it a friendly pet. Galo caught Mutt standing anxiously, wringing his hands, and Galo nodded to him. "You can talk, it's okay."

"Z-Zan isn't a-a-allowed on the f-furniture."

Ah. One of those houses. Galo rolled his eyes. "Well that's a stupid rule."

Mutt looked, once again, shocked, and Galo thought it over. He didn't seem the conspiratory type, but who didn't love being in on it?

"Hey," Galo said, low and mischievous, leaning forward towards Mutt with an elbow on his knee, "if I keep letting Zan be on the couch with me, will you promise not to tell?"

Mutt's eyes got somehow wider, and so did Galo's grin.

"I--I--I--" Mutt stuttered, before he finally snapped his mouth closed and nodded.

"Great!" Galo cheered, leaning back on the couch and giving Zan some ear scritches, making his tail thump thump thump thump. "We'll brush the fur off before I leave, nobody has to find out." Galo cast a sidelong glance at Mutt. "Y'know, Mutt, kittens can be on the furniture too, while I'm here." Galo slung his free arm over the back of the couch, his other hand still idle in Zan's fur.

Mutt didn't move for a very long moment, and Galo didn't push. Just pet Zan and got his computer queued up for a podcast he'd heard good things about. It was only about halfway through the introduction sequence, the podcaster's voice a pleasant, melodious sort, that Galo caught Mutt take a tentative step forward in the corner of his eye.

"You can come; it's alright," he repeated, still looking at his computer screen lest the direct attention make Mutt lock up. Slowly, like he thought Galo had set some sort of trap, Mutt sat gingerly on the very edge of the couch cushion, body taut as a strung bow.

"Good boy," Galo praised.

Like in the kitchen, it was the work of a lot of time and very little increase, but Galo got Mutt curled back up against his side, knees tucked up under Mutt's chin, the other two dogs piled in at Mutt's side and on top of Zan, by the midpoint of the second episode. Galo kept his arm around Mutt, and almost felt bad for letting the dogs up on the couch with them. It meant he couldn't take a photo this time, either, when Mutt inevitably fell asleep.

[dabistits]

To talk about Twice and villainy is to talk about class and criminality (III)

Masterpost

Class in BNHA

Returning to my earlier point that BNHA should be read alongside the social concerns of real-world Japan, I want to note that these events almost surely affected and remained within Horikoshi’s awareness. Horikoshi was born in 1986, and thus lived through the economic downturns of the 90′s and 2000′s as a child and young adult. In 2010 when Sugimoto’s article was published—not in the least the first of its kind—Horikoshi was 24 years-old, more than old enough to remember the public discourses about Japan’s kakusa shakai. In 2008, only two years earlier, an award-winning film dealing with the financial struggles of a Tokyo family, Tokyo Sonata, was released, and 2012 saw an infamous starvation case involving a family that made international headlines. In 2014, BNHA began serialization. Without speculating on the political leanings of the author himself, it seems remiss not to posit the likelihood that these events and the atmosphere they engendered can be connected to Horikoshi’s writing and the kind of story he intends to tell. While BNHA isn’t what I’d necessarily call class-conscious, the ways it delves into class is noticeable even outside of Jin’s backstory and are worth a discussion.

If not exactly class-conscious, there nevertheless seems to be an awareness of class in BNHA. Not even our heroes are able to fully escape it, and in 1-A, there are small distinctions drawn between the experiences of more wealthy students and ones that are less well-off. For example, Yaoyorozu Momo wows classmates with her stately house, brings expensive furniture into the dorms, and exhibits naïve joy at shopping at an outlet store; Todoroki Shouto’s family home was shown to be a large, traditional residence, and a secondary house has since been built on the income of his formerly abusive, currently estranged father. Both students come from established hero families, and both were admitted to U.A. based on recommendation. On the other hand, Uraraka Ochako comes from a working-class family, and explains that a big part of her decision to become a hero is to support her parents’ business. She’s also been shown to be amazed at U.A.’s dorm facilities, and has frequent jokes made about her thriftiness in bonus material. When it comes to villains, these issues manifest with much more distinctiveness. Aside from Jin, a couple members of the Shie Hassaikai also bring up issues of class and exploitation when they explain their decision to join Overhaul: one was indebted, and the other had his Quirk exploited by an unethical boss. When Overhaul found them, they were “rotting away on the streets.”

On another level, BNHA is certainly hierarchy-conscious. As I’ve brought up before, many of the antagonist groups we see are strictly hierarchal, and more importantly, the lower-ranking members are often commanded to live and die according to their leader’s desires. From the members of the Shie Hassaikai to the Meta Liberation Army, we continuously see them lending their bodies and Quirks to the causes of their superiors, only to be discarded at the most opportune moments: Overhaul directly uses one of his followers as a meat shield, and the Meta Liberation Army decides to put their members in the path of danger, just to steal some glory from the LOV. Geten, from the MLA, has no qualms about enacting such wide-scale destruction that the members of his own organization get caught in the crossfire.

It seems relevant to mention that Yotsubashi Rikiya “Redestro,” the wealthy CEO of Detnerat and successor to the revolutionary Destro, makes his official appearance in the series through an advertisement, a medium tied to the capitalist drive for production and consumerism. Advertisements can also be understood as a medium for misrepresentation, an idealized image created to maximize sales, and sure enough, Redestro’s friendly façade gives way when he kills his assistant, Miyashita, for a mildly disparaging comment about Destro’s ideals. Before the murder, Redestro asks Miyashita whether he has a family or a significant other, making sure that his absence will not be missed, but the pointed question also seems to work as a stand-in for the invisibility of those who “serve” the rich, who can be discarded without hardly a blink of an eye. Miyashita, despite his proximity to wealth and to the wealthy, despite being on all counts a hardworking, model employee, remains expendable in the eyes of his boss. Furthermore, this act of violence occurs not in the supposedly crime-ridden streets—it happens in a swanky office building, where both killer and victim are supposedly working in civilian capacities. It suggests that hierarchies are not something that only belong in the villain world, but that these cycles of exploitation and expendability proliferate throughout society down to our offices and homes.

Quirks as determiners of worth.

In fact, home is where we bear witness to one of the greatest feats of exploitation: in the marriage between Rei and her abuser. Of course, the greatest foundation in this dynamic is patriarchy, wherein the woman is treated like the property of her husband, but there’s a subtle twist in this arrangement thanks to the introduction of Quirks. Rei’s marriage was not simply considered an “arranged marriage,” but specifically a “Quirk marriage” meant to strengthen the Quirks of the following generation by choosing a suitable partner. The Quirk marriage between Rei and her abuser was facilitated by his wealth and fame—acquired through his work in the line of pro heroes—therefore placing a price tag on her Quirk and on her person. I consider this to be an indication of the commodification of Quirks—“commodity” meaning roughly, in the Marxist sense, something that can be “bought or sold” or “exchanged in the market.”

Of course, the horrific thing about purchasing Quirks is they are attached to humans. Quirks are genetic mutations, and are stated in-text to specifically be biological attributes; without a human with the appropriate genetic mutation, a specific Quirk doesn’t exist. If the past serves as any lesson, it’s likely that as Quirks (and the humans who wield them) began to be seen as increasingly valuable, the ruling class soon caught on to the fact that Quirks needed to be controlled, regulated, and diverted to serve the interests of capital. Thus, Quirk regulations were born to prevent a potentially cataclysmic disruption to the means of production, as were pro heroes—a superpowered arm of law enforcement to deal with superpowered criminals. Contemporarily, heroes are largely those whose Quirks are considered the most valuable, and they’re paid for wielding said Quirks in defense of the rule of law; in other words, they sell their Quirk-wielding expertise. While Quirks themselves can’t yet be bought and sold (at least not on a wide scale), the humans attached to them can be. 

This leads to yet another societal dysfunction. Because some Quirks are considered more valuable than others, and because Quirks are attached to persons, some people are considered more valuable than others. This comes through even more clearly in the original Japanese word for Quirk: 個性 (kosei). Kosei can be translated as “individuality” but also as “personality” or “character,” e.g. she has a strong personality (kosei), [source] a meaning that inevitably implicates the human behind the personality. But in the world of BNHA, a strong kosei no longer simply means a strong personality—it can also mean a strong Quirk. In the linguistic realm, personality and Quirk have become indistinguishable, and this has two effects: one, Quirks are presumed to influence personality (as in the cases of Toga and Shinsou), and two, that which makes us individual, our personalities, has become entangled with Quirks-as-commodity. That is to say, one’s kosei determines one’s worth under capitalism.

Of course, people with “good” or “valuable” Quirks (and thus presumably “good” and “valuable” personalities) are funneled into law enforcement and encouraged to uphold the status quo—the very status quo which increases their chances of gaining wealth, fame, and prestige that they can then pass down to subsequent generations. However, the policing class must justify its existence—if there is no crime, then there’s no need for policing. In one respect, this “need” is manufactured by criminalizing poverty (as discussed above), and other harmless acts (such as drug possession), and by creating the adverse, alienated conditions in which violence is not considered only necessary, but normal for both the policing class and those who are policed. Under the classification of value, however, there’s another easy scapegoat: people with “bad” or “worthless” Quirks.

While no Quirk is explicitly criminalized, there are many Quirks that carry a stigma, including the likes of Transform and Brainwash (whose wielders are regarded with suspicion for fear of “bad” personalities); some Quirks walk the line between “criminalized” and “stigmatized” altogether. Consider the Quirk wielded by the indebted member of the Shie Hassaikai, which allows him to transfer any object on another’s person into his hands: the Quirk is called “Larceny.” The naming is telling; it draws a direct link between indebtedness/need, and theft as a crime and as a kosei. With some people presumed “destined” for crime, and those presumptions becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy as they’re shut off from opportunities for advancement, law enforcement is endowed with legitimacy. Heroes and villains become two sides of the same coin—one unable to exist without the other, both socially-constructed categories to perpetuate the ruling class.

[catflowerqueen]

With the resurgence of interest in Hiveswap given the upcoming sequel, as well as me finally playing Friendisms, there’s something I’ve been curious about:

I wonder how much Alternian society changed with each new heiress? Based on some of Xefros’ dialogue, as well as some things that were mentioned in the dreambubbles, it looks like the Empress and heiresses had a lot of direct impact on the culture—what items were available, different trends in advertising, etc.—sometimes by actual, imperial mandate. So with people like Trizza and Meenah, who are very “in your face” with their personalities and actively promote themselves, you see a lot more interest in things like social media, consumerism, fashion trends… stuff like that.

In comparison, Feferi doesn’t really seem to get out as much. Truel, she was a little younger than Trizza is, or at least she seemed to be—it is still a little unclear how old trolls actually have to be for the Maturation trials, but apparently trolls like Xefros and Dammek were nearing it, and they seem to be around the same age as Joey—who is clearly early teens. I mean… sweeps are longer than years, so even if Dammek’s trials were coming “next sweep,” that would still be 2.5 years away or so, which IS a lot of time for growth, since that would put him around 15ish for the trials. But even then… while the Beta trolls did discuss a little bit about their future plans in their introductions and before they entered the game, there was none of that “this is actually impending and coming really soon, time is running out” feel like you got from, say, Skylla’s route?

Anyways… point is, even if we factor in Feferi’s youthfulness, her personality seems to be more… not introverted, exactly, but more oriented on behind-the-scenes planning type stuff? She isn’t really putting herself out there much, is what I’m saying, and she seems to be more focused on safety/fortifying the ranks, as it were, and making sure her mother is appeased over everything else. (And now that I think about it, she actually has a lot in common with her niece [technically, via adoption. And ancestry. Sort of] Joey, as far as animal care and the like goes. Kind of). I’m not entirely sure anyone outside of her friend group even knows she exists, actually, which leads me to wonder about troll society and culture, now that there’s a void where Trizza was.

Now, maybe this is a relatively new thing. Perhaps it’s because Trizza was so out there and public, that Feferi felt the need to hide. Maybe her mother told her to do so because of however Trizza died. Perhaps because Trizza was so influential on the population, Meenah tried to give herself more of a presence than she typically would have when it comes to Alternian youths. Karkat mentioned soda like Tab… maybe that was a relatively new development—Meenah’s response and push-back on the brand Trizza promoted. Who really knows.

Beyond that… I have to wonder what forces are at work when it comes to the maintenance and implementation of all the technology on Alternia. Some of it is probably the kids, sure, but we know that adults do sometimes deal with them directly, even if not necessarily in-person. Those adults the lusus bandits were working with? Or the fact that the Grand Highblood apparently communicated with the churches a lot (though, admittedly, that could be an outlier because of just how weird and complicated the purpleblood caste is). Things like the libraries or clubs… the structures surrounding the mall on Polypa’s route… someone has to be maintaining those structures through each successive generation of children. After all, it isn’t as though the kids take it with them when they go into space. And stuff like movies—it was at least heavily implied that those were created by adults.

But at the same time… it doesn’t look the kids and adults share their internet services or forums (beyond adults probably monitoring them to look for signs of rebellions), so you would lose giant chunks of culture and things just to people going off-world. Like—their accounts would probably still be around and accessible, but nothing new would be uploaded. So unless you had a lot of mentoring situations going on, you probably wouldn’t get a whole lot of lasting, impactful influencers or ideas for subsequent generations.

Which is probably part of the point, as far as quashing rebellions go, but…

It just makes me wonder how extreme the generation gaps would be among the new young adults on the ship, what sorts of culture clashes you would get since the majority of adults wouldn’t be able to access what the kids are doing, to keep up with any new trends or ideas. Especially ones started by the heiresses.

How much loyalty and confusion would there be when the trolls who grew up under the effects of Trizza then made it to the fleets, where Meenah rules? Wouldn’t you see more rebellions happening immediately after enough young adults were finally old enough to join the fleets?

Maybe weeding them out is part of what the trials are about. Or the fleet is big enough that it would be easy to spread them thin.

Going back to an earlier point about Meenah, though, and her possibly increased influence on Alternia while Feferi was growing up…

It is entirely possible that, had the Game not happened and Feferi had continued to remain more-or-less out of the wider social loop… or I guess even if she had, assuming Meenah kept up the presence she was curating… that the trolls of Feferi’s generation would have less of a cultural shock upon joining the fleet (at least as far as actual social aspects, trends, and popular products goes) simply because Meenah was promoting herself both on the Alternian Homeworld and the wider fleet. There would be more familiarity, at least.

And I really do think that’s what she was doing during the period that Homestuck was taking place, since Karkat and the others seem far more aware of the Empress and what she does and likes than what the Friendism/Hiveswap trolls do. Sure, they are aware an Empress exists… but they only really mention being glad she’s busy far away, whereas they actually talk about Trizza by name and act like she’s already ruling everything.

Anyways. Just some ramblings to think about.

[sepublic]

Ideas for potential future Hazbin Hotel episodes...

So in the event that Hazbin Hotel gets greenlit by some outside studio, or continues to function and thrive with fan support, I think there are a couple of important ideas/concepts that are worth exploring and forming episodes and subplots around;

-An episode about a second visitor (Alastor doesn’t count as he’s a benefactor and Niffty and Husk are employees, not guests) would be VERY important and I feel a good starting point for the next episode. We already have Angel Dust, but he admits that he only signed up for a free room (not that this won’t change...). For the show’s themes of redemption, we need to actually see someone else, probably someone who saw Charlie’s ad on TV, actually sign up to stay at the hotel. By having this happen, it’ll show that, yes, there ARE people who are legitimately interested in the Hazbin Hotel and its offer of redemption, and this can pave the way for more guests. Having the Hazbin Hotel gain traction (along with reactions from other demons to Alastor’s sponsorship) would move the plot along.

Based on the official art by Vivzie, I think characters such as Mimzy, Crymini, or Baxter would work. Rosie is a demon lord, so I don’t see her signing up anytime soon, Arackniss is unrepentant, and I think Molly might be saved for later. We’ve already had cameos of Mimzy and Crymini (the latter even watching Charlie’s advertisement), and considering how prevalent the aforementioned three are in art, they’d probably be good starting points for the hotel. Likewise, Cherri could possibly join later, but I’m not entirely sure.

-It’s mentioned in a Q&A that Demons can actually ‘level up’, increasing their rank and power in the process. Considering Alastor seems to be vying for the spot of a demon lord (or at the very least started off concerningly powerful for someone who hadn’t yet leveled up), this would be a good subplot to explore not only Alastor and his motives and abilities, but also introduce Rosie and potentially Lillith, Valentino, and Vox. Ideally, we’d be introduced to leveling up as a concept, and see how it works and what it does.

Likewise, we could also explore the demon hierarchy in general, and how it works. How does Lucifer, Lillith, Satan, and Beelzebub’s authority extend? How do other demons feel about them? Have there been attempts to overthrow them, and how loyal are the Demon lords, assuming they have any allegiance whatsoever? We see a Bat Demon Lord and Dinosaur Demon Lord with Lillith when she looks at Charlie’s fireworks, so it seems THOSE two at least have it good with the ruling family.

-Having an episode dedicated to a new arrival at Hell would also be interesting, as we’d see what it’s like to suddenly die, only to be reincarnated as a demon (potentially as an animal you hate, no less) immediately afterwards. Having a subplot of the Hazbin crew welcoming in a new demon would be a neat way of exploring how Hell works, how one gets introduced and acclimated to the area, and the lifestyle. It could also be used to explore the origins of other characters, or at least the circumstances in which they died and/or arrived. Additionally, it’d be in Charlie’s best interest to immediately invite new arrivals to Hell, as presumably they’d be in a vulnerable, disoriented state and want to leave Hell ASAP. It might be taking advantage of someone else’s predicament, but it’s probably in anyone’s best interests to leave Hell, and we can also explore Charlie’s character flaws later.

-Speaking of arrivals and new guests, having the story focus on how the redemption and rehabilitation process actually works would be pretty important. 

-Character backstories and origins are pretty key, and exploring Angel Dust’s family and mobster origins would be vital regarding his redemption. Likewise, a proper introduction to Valentino (and the Hazbin crew possibly dealing with him, a bit VIOLENTLY might I add...) is begging to be animated. We could answer various questions, such as what exactly ARE the Egg Bois, Vaggie’s hostility to other demons, the origin of Alastor’s power, why Niffty seems rather obsessed with men, and so forth.

-Twice, Alastor has offered Charlie’s hand, and both times she’s declined a handshake/deal. This seems like foreshadowing towards an inevitable ‘deal’ she’ll make with him, so an episode about this (probably later in the series) would be an interesting concept.

-Similarly, Alastor always smiles because he sees anything else as a sign of weakness; So obviously, preferably as late into the series as possible, we need to have the show’s most major ‘All hell is loose’ moment in which Alastor frowns.

-More Sir Pentious antics... that’s really all I have to say. Presumably these would be Wile E. Coyote subplots as he attempts to destroy the Hazbin Hotel and repeatedly fails, with some plots failing without the main cast even being aware Pentious was trying.

-Charlie backstory, alongside her family dynamics with Lucifer and Lillith, as well as her thought process in creating the Happy Hotel. A meeting with Vaggie and explanation of the two’s relationship origins would also be neat, and the introduction and clarification of Satan and Beelzebub as separate entities from her father is also neat.

-I think an episode actually showing if it IS possible to be redeemed and go to heaven would be very important regarding, again, the show’s themes and Charlie’s motives and goals. Perhaps it’d happen later in the series, or earlier, depending on the answer to the age-old question; If you CAN go to heaven, we’ll definitely need an episode exploring a demon that rehabilitates, and the process of ascension. If you CAN’T go to heaven after redemption, then this would probably be revealed as some devastating reveal later down the line that forces Charlie to question herself.

-Likewise, an episode(s) focusing on Charlie’s flaws and misunderstanding of redemption would be great for her character. Charlie is definitely well-meaning and optimistic, but at the same time you get the idea that she’s a bit naive and doesn’t quite fully understand how people end up in Hell, and how tricky of a process it is to actually rehabilitate oneself. Charlie learning that she can’t push people into becoming better just by being all happy and sunshine-y would be relevant as a character arc, and it’d motivate her into approaching redemption more subtly. People can and ARE messed up in Hell and are dealing with intense issues, and Charlie needs to learn to recognize this and give people the space they need to improve.

-We see the results of the Exterminator Angels’ annual massacres, but we have yet to see one in action. Thus, an episode that showcases what an extermination actually looks like would be both fascinating and also utter nightmare fuel as the characters try to survive and protect the guests at the Hazbin Hotel, who may not be any more exempt from extermination than anyone else. Likewise, seeing how the Demon Lords and others prepare for an extermination would be neat world-building.

-Mobster, crime-ring shenanigans with Angel Dust, Cherri, Arackniss, etc., would also be fun to see. It could be used to explore what the demon underground looks like, what ‘laws’ there are in Hell, if any, and how society functions. It could also explore the idea of Exterminator weapons being a major thing in the black market due to their ability to actually, permanently kill a demon.

-What happens if a demon dies from an Exterminator weapon? Vivzie may or may not answer this, but going into speculation, I think a slain demon might actually reincarnate into a new life outside of Hell, thus given another ‘chance’ but as a different person entirely.

-Somebody dies permanently; Again, we know demons can be taken out completely by the Exterminator weapons. I think this could make for some interesting drama, or it could just be reserved for some one-off, one-shot character in order to explain how Exterminator Weapons work.

-An episode about Charlie just completely, UTTERLY losing it and revealing her true demon form in all of its hellish entirety would also be amazing.

-More Niffty and Husk interactions! 

-Another musical number isn’t NEEDED, but it would admittedly be pretty great. Potentially, there could even be an entire musical episode dedicated to all of the characters singing, which explores their motives, backstories, etc.

-Additionally, having filler subplots of the cast trying to deal with and rehabilitate the episodic, demon-of-the-week and dealing with said demon’s flaws and making them a better person could be entertaining.

-How much of Hell IS there? Overpopulation is an issue, so presumably there are boundaries... And if so, what ARE those boundaries? Does Hell just end at a cliff hovering over an empty void, or is it contained at the bottom of a giant pit?

[facesofthefog]

skull and bone please!! (he totally scuffed a trial even after sam told him to not let anybody escape, just saying)

[Reward and punishment: Closed] TW: Blood, torture, psychological torture, undead, Entity being a dick, pushing a man’s PTSD, maggots, general horror? 

Killers not performing their tasks was somehow a popular concept and finally, he was able to take care of the problem in person. No matter how he tweaked them, how he changed their appearance, they were still human. At least, most of them were and they worked in their limited human ways. There was always a possibility of failure, of their bleeding hearts shining through, but fear and pain worked on them in the same way, as it worked on the survivors. Maybe even better, since for a survivor, it was easy to think that it could not get worse. The killers were almost at the top of the food chain and they were showered down with a range of rewards for their good work. In Bernard's case, his constant unwillingness to kill lead to a punishment. 

Samuel entered the camp with his palm up to shield his eyes. It looked as if he was simply covering them from light, trying to get used to the sudden brightness of the campfire after spending so long in the dark forest. His hair might have been the normal dirty blonde, but his iris were gold and the sclera black like the pupils. He smiled and greeted the killer like he normally would and accepted the offer of some coffee and rest. Only once the other had his back turned did he drop his act. A wide grin formed on his face whilst he slowly crept over to the unaware male to wrap his arms around the killer’s waist and hug into his back. 

"You have been such a bad boy lately Berny~" he moaned into his ear seductively, his hand sliding down his prey’s chest. "And bad boys deserve punishment."

Before the killer could consider the situation as an introduction to anything pleasant, the Entity pushed him away with enough force to trip him over. The scene changed and by the time Bernhardt's knees hit the ground, they appeared in the trenches. Soil rained down on them from where a shell hit close by and the being in power sighed in content.

"Such a lovely place. I am surprised you don't spend more time here. The atmosphere is more than pleasant." An honest thought he shared with the male who he was not even looking at. Instead, his eyes were focused on the overcast sky and the slight rain coming down. "You don't commit to the trials, Bernhardt. I am here to show you what will happen if you don't change that. I will show you what it feels like to be the survivor. So, run. If you get out in time, I will let you go pain-free. All you have to do is reach your camp before I find you."

The younger male hesitated, it was obvious, and it was not surprising, but it was also short-lived. He got up and ran down the tight corridor, whilst the Entity lowered his gaze to watch him with a pleased smile. It did not take long for the soldier to take a corner and disappear from view taking part in an unfair game. The killer knew the trenches well, but so did the Entity, the being that built them from the other's memories. Bernhardt's past was like an open book to the ruling being, there was nothing he could hide and soon enough he would come face to face with more ghosts of his past. 

"I hope you're ready~" he chuckled, his voice reaching the furthest part of the trenches, not muffled even by the rumble of the artillery or the increasing patter of the rain. "Because I sure am."

Blonde hair turned to black and fingers turned to claws, as the Entity moved after its prey not making any sound regardless of the growing puddles beneath his shoes. Normally he was careful about the body he currently resided in, but this called for a show. A ghoulish display, as he allowed more of his natural looks to morph into the human skin, hurting them both in the process. There would be no fun without some pain. And they were not the only ones in pain. He could smell his killer's blood and as it would with a shark, it pushed him in the right direction. 

"Already Berny?" he spoke into an empty corridor aware that he would be heard. "I cannot believe you fell into a trap so quickly. Did you think I would make it easy on you?"

His long nail scratched at the vines of the inner walls as he took another corner looking for his victim. There was no real need for haste, the only living soldier of this realm would not get out. Nets of barbed wire blocked some corridors, forming and disappearing, creating a living labyrinth that eventually would lead him back to the Entity. One of such traps had some red proving that it was the one that caught Bernhardt off guard. 

An honest laugh turned into a grimace of disgust as a dead rat floated close by. He hated vermin whether living or dead and having one bump against his shin caused a slight shiver. Suddenly the trenches lost their previous charm and only the groan out for help coming from a trapped victim up above restored a smile to his face. 

"Come out, come out wherever you are!~" his sweet-song voice rang out once more. How the trenches transformed only increased the excitement he felt. No amount of rain or flooding could change that, as he simply brushed his wet her back and ignored how the shirt stuck to his body." I have a surprise for you, darling. Are you not curious?" 

And then he saw him. They stood on the opposing ends of the same corridor. The barbed wire grew out from the ground behind the killer, grabbing hold of the tall walls all the way to the top acting similarly to living vines. There was no real way out. Only straight on into the open arms of the grinning being.

"There you are! I was beginning to worry that you got lost." The being sounded sincere as if they were friends that were supposed to meet up and one arrived late. But then his tone darkened, and the grin only widened ripping flesh at the cheeks to reveal rows of sharp teeth. "Looks like it's my win after all."

Sharp wire poked through Bernhardt's body from the back and wrapped around the front to pull him into the net behind him. It kept him securely in place, as the Entity approached, fangs bared and fingers split to show off the long claws. Two bodies stood up from the depths of the water, both missing an arm each, skin ripped from their face and multiple holes bleeding in their torso. They moaned and groaned with each step, begging for their death. 

"I brought you your friends." His voice was much deeper, raspier, demonic even. "Are you unhappy? You should be thankful for this gift."

Another body fell from over the top, hanging on barbed wire mere inches from the killer. It pulled its only limb towards Bernhard and questioned the man, blamed him for their fate, its voice becoming more frantic the more it pulled in the metal to free itself. 

The soil came loose from one of the walls not covered by any wines or wood, a hand and face revealing itself, leaving the structure like maggots that filled its mouth. It could not speak, but its eyes showed terror and a plead for help.

The Entity stood in front of the breaking man and observed the blood that trickled down his body, the wire missing any vital organs to keep him living through the life horror display. The being’s long tongue dropped out from his mouth and licked at the soldier's cheek leaving it sleek from the spit. He ignored the cry of the fifth body emerging behind him, his ears only focused on the sounds coming from the killer. 

"You are a predator, but you can become prey." He was barely able to speak now, black blood bubbling from his mouth with every word. "You don't want to annoy me further, do you? You are hurting me, Bernhardt." One of his golden eyes turned blue, half of the face revealing pain and fear. "I don't want to have to do this to you… But-" the being coughed back more blood. "You left me no choice.”

“So, apologize. Promise that you will do better. Praise me with each kill, as you paint the realms red with their blood. Prove to me that I have not made a mistake. Because I never make mistakes. You are a true killer. You proved it on many occasions. You killed your friends…” The wires retracted leaving ripped bleeding flesh in its way and dropping the killer to the wooden boards, his weapon lying in the muddy water before him. “You can do it again.”