#love being the local Dutch speaker! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetkale · 4 years ago

Text

all evidence that points towards Magneto being Jewish before it was first explicitly established in 1991

!!None of this is my writing!! It’s a useful but outdated source that I merely revised to replace the G slur. It was written by Rivka Jacobs and the original can be found at http://www.alara.net/opeople/xbooks/magjew.html

The Magneto Is Jewish FAQ (revised 11/9/98)

Rivka Jacobs

(1) In Uncanny #113 (Classic X-Men #19), the added material has Magneto on Asteroid M, talking about the deaths of Magda, Anya, and he mentions Auschwitz for the first time. "I endured one death camp ... in Auschwitz ... I will not see another people fear what they do not understand and destroy what they fear." Uncanny #113 is from 1978. The additional scenes were included in 1988's Classic X-Men #19. So, we know Magnus was at Auschwitz, a death camp, not just a concentration camp. (Many fans [and writers] seem to get the two types of camps confused). There could have been a number of reasons he was at Auschwitz: he was a Polish political prisoner, a Russian prisoner of war, a member of the French underground, a homosexual from Germany, Roma, or, with a high probability, a Jew. (Out of 1.5 million victims of Auschwitz, between 1.1 and 1.2 million were Jews).

(2) In Uncanny #150 (one of my favorites) Magneto mentions, in a fight with Cyclops, "I know something of grief. Search throughout my homeland, you will find NONE who bear my name. Mine was a large family, and it was slaughtered ... without mercy, without remorse." So that eliminates German homosexual and French partisan, because the entire familes of such prisoners were not slaughtered throughout an entire "homeland." After Magneto thinks he has killed Kitty, he says: "I remember my own childhood ... the gas chambers at Auschwitz, the guards joking as they herded my family to their death. As our lives were nothing to them, so human lives became nothing to me." Storm is about to blast him for "killing" Kitty, and she says, "If you have a diety, butcher, pray to it!" Magneto answers, "As a boy, I believed. As a boy, I turned my back on god forever." So now we know that Magnus is not a political prisoner (German political prisoners were sent to camps on German soil, like Dachau, or Bergen-Belsen), he is not Polish, since whole Polish families were not herded to the gas chambers. The Poles were not the target of pre-meditated Nazi genocide. While the Russian people were the target of genocide, only Russian POWs were in Auschwitz, not whole families. So, we are now left with only two groups of people that Magnus could be from, the Roma and the Jews. Uncanny #150 is from Oct. 1981; already Magnus says something very interesting here. He says he "remembers" the gas chambers of Auschwitz, "remembers" his family being herded, he "remembers" the guards joking. Fact: no one remembers the gas chambers of Auschwitz except in two ways (or three if you believe the dead can speak to the living), either you were a Nazi SS guard or doctor or official, or you were a member of the Sonderkommando. The Sonderkommando, Jewish prisoners who were forced by the Nazis -- in all the death camps -- to do the dirty work of killing. It was Nazi official policy. The Jews, the lowest of the low to the Nazis, in Auschwitz hierarchy, followed by the Russians, and then the Roma, the Jews would be the ones to lead the victims to the gas chamber, to haul the bodies from the gas chambers to the ovens, to burn and bury the dead. The Jews would pull the teeth of the corpses, cut the hair, pile the bodies three at a time on the retorts of the ovens in just the right way. The Sonderkommando had a few kapos (overseers) who were German and Polish prisoners, criminals from civil prisons in Germany and Poland. During the summer of 1944, 19 Russian POWs from Mauthausen were sent to augment the Auschwitz Sonderkommando. Totally documented, on paper and by eye witness accounts. All other members of the Auschwitz Sonderkommando were Jews.

(3) In Uncanny #161, Sept. 1982, we have the story of Xavier's trip to Israel. There he meets Magnus for the first time. However, it should be noted that the entire story is a Charlie-dream, while he is with Lilandra. In Uncanny #161 we see for the first and last time Magnus' tattoo from Auschwitz. His number is #214782. Xavier says, "That tattoo, Magnus, were you ...?" Magnus answers, "Auschwitz. I grew up there." So now we know that Magneto was first in Auschwitz as a very young person, but we can't pinpoint the age yet. Also, his number is high for someone who was there from the beginning of the camp. The first Polish prisoners, like author Wieslaw Kielar, had very low numbers, like in the 200s. Sonderkommando survivor Filip Muller's number was in the 20,000s. He arrived in early 1942. Magnus' number is a standard number, however, without the A of the 1944 arrivals, or the Z of the Roma, or the other special classification symbols. Of course the penciller didn't know these details. So a standard Auschwitz number, which is too big, but it doesn't tell us anything.

4) Vision and the Scarlet Witch, Vol. 1, #4. Magneto has just found out Wanda and Pietro are his children. (This is from Feb. 1983). He is on the moon, in the Inhuman city of Attilan, telling VIsion about his youth. "I was born into a time and place ... Android ... where both man and mutant were persecuted for being ... different." Picture of the Auschwitz camp, guards tormenting emaciated prisoners, one of whom displays a very prominent and exaggerated Star of David on his clothing. Remember Jews and Roma were kept apart in the camp. In the next panel, however, Magneto sort-of goes into a fantasy. He says, "But unlike the other victims, I possessed the power to fight back." He imagines he's hurling Nazi tanks away with magnetic energy. What's this? In 1983, the reader doesn't know what to make of this. Keep in mind, he's meeting with Wanda, Pietro, Vision, and Crystal, and has held Luna for the first time. Is he exaggerating? Showing off for them?

(5) Now for the second most important comic proving Magneto is Jewish, Uncanny #199, Nov. 1985. Magneto with Lee Forrester and Kitty Pryde arrive at the National Holocaust Memorial in Washington, DC. (It's not really Lee, but Mystique, trying to capture Magneto). Magneto has been having an affair with Lee, he loves her. He brings her to the Holocaust Memorial? Why? Fun date, huh? Why, because he has no other family. These people are his family. Jewish survivors of the Holocaust. (The Roma have their own name for the genocide, and their own gatherings, with their own rituals and customs. Magneto has no reason to go to a Jewish gathering if he isn't Jewish). Lee/Mystique says: "Man's inhumanity to man ... how easily the race kills." Magneto answers: "Then, Lee, it was the Jews. My nightmare has ever been that tomorrow it will be Mutants." Why would he say that, why wouldn't he mention another ethnic group, if he weren't Jewish? Next, Magneto tells Kitty EXACTLY how to address the gathering in order to get information about dead or missing family members. How does Magneto know how to do this? Isn't it obvious that he's done this before? Why would he address a Jewish Holocaust gathering looking for information about his family if his family weren't Jewish? (And it is a Jewish gathering, besides the use of the word Holocaust, a speaker says in the background: "... the systematic institutionalized extermination of one people by another."). Kitty asks about her great-aunt Chava, who died at Auschwitz, and Magneto is recognized by two survivors, Ruth and David Shulman, two Jewish survivors. (Shul is another name for synagogue -- Shulman means man of the temple, or man of the synagogue). They remember Magneto as a youth in Auschwitz, and say he helped them survive. And witness him as having been there. (No implanted memories, please). They testify that he " ... Had been at that accursed place from the very start..."

Later, Mystique reveals herself, and arrests Magneto in front of all these people. Magneto says that he recognizes no authority. "My land ...all the countries of the world ... turned their back on me and mine when we were condemned to Hitler's death camps. Therefore, in return, I have sworn to deny them." So let's clear this up ... the Roma were not persecuted in Greece, the Greek Jewish community was decimated. A small number of Roma and Jews in Rumania were exiled to a new border country called "Transnistria" but the remainder of the Roma were left alone. Several hundred thousand of them. 350,000 Rumanian Jews were savagely murdered throughout the country. In Slovakia, the Roma were left alone, the Slovakian Jews were among the first sent to Auschwitz. After the Slovakian uprising was crushed in 1944, several hundred Roma who had courageously helped in the rebellion were murdered, along with the remainder of the Jews of Slovakia. Bulgaria did not persecute its Romani people. Bulgaria, although resisting deportations of its Jews, persecuted them locally. In the Netherlands, only the "wandering" Roma who were captured in camps and wagons were deported, about 500. The remaining who had bought homes or found shelter with neighbors, were left alone. The Netherlands is where Gabrielle Haller comes from -- in under two years 100,000 Dutch Jews were deported, most were killed. I could go on. There is no other people who were hunted everywhere the Nazis went or had influence but the Jews. There is no other people who had the gates of escape cut off after the war started, but the European Jews. Magneto's reasoning is based on this most extreme situation.

(6) Uncanny #211, Nov. 1986. The Mutant Massacre. Page 9 -- Betsy Braddock has just come in from discovering what happened to a wounded Morlock, who has just died. Magneto, Storm, and Wolverine are standing there in Xavier's infirmary. Betsy says, "... I saw a cadre of super-beings ... massacring every living thing in the Morlock tunnels." Magneto reacts immediately, out of pure emotion. "NO! The horrors of my childhood, born again...only this time, Mutants are the victims, instead of Jews." What else does this mean? He's talking about HIS childhood, he's making a parallel. If he weren't Jewish, he wouldn't have said Jews, he would have said Roma. The two groups of people are not interchangeable.

(7) New Mutants #49, March 1987. Magneto is dreaming. It is an entire page representation of the massacre of his family. Here we see for the first time, his family -- father, mother, sister -- as they were gunned down in front of open graves. The family members are dressed in middle class urban clothes. No peasant dress, no Roma clothing. (And it is not a cliche. Roma women always wore, at this time, their flowing skirts and distinctive scarves and clothing, similar to the Bosnian women of today). Being massacred with Magnus' family is a mixed group of people. Men in bowler hats and suits, one old woman in a long skirt. One man in a bowler hat has the side-locks of the devout Jew, but the other people could be anyone. Poles or Jews or Roma. It's Magnus and his family who are out of place. They are well-dressed, Magnus's sister in a proper school uniform with the prim collar. Every picture I've seen of the German Rom show: a people of color, having left India and Armenia five- to six-hundred years ago, the men wearing Fedoras (favorite style of hat) and normal suits and ties, and the women and girls always dressed in the long skirts and distinctive flowered scarves. The boys wear a mixture of urban short pants but scarf belts, some have socks, some don't. New Mutants #49, page 17, could show some Roma in the crowd, but Magnus' family members are definitely not Romani in this picture.

(8) X-Men Classics #12, back-up story, Aug. 1987. The actual scenes of Magneto's escape from Auschwitz. "And with World War II ending... the Third Reich defeated...it's guards wanted no witnesses left...to tell the tale of this horror..." Picture of an SS soldier about to shoot a fallen and stricken Madga. "He had been there from the start ..." Magnus has just slammed a wooden beam into the head of the SS soldier. "Grown to manhood within its electrified barbed wire fence. If he was to die, it would not be in this abattoir ... and not without a fight!" Magnus grabs a terrified Magda by the hand and drags her with him in his escape. (a) The war is almost over, it is winter, it is the winter of 1944-1945. The Roma were gone by 1945. All the Roma women were gone. Only 4 clerks, high-status friends of Nazi officials in Camp I, were left. The Romani camp was murdered in the gas chambers in August 1944. (b) This scene, by Claremont and Bolton, is completely accurate. It takes place on Jan. 20, 1945, two days after thecamp was evacuated and the Death marches began. Some 70 of the Sonderkommando were kept to help destroy the evidence of the death factory, before they were to be killed. Some 200 women from the woman's camp, Jews, were chosen to fill in the huge pits where bodies were burned. They had to haul ashes, break up human bones, all in the coldest part of winter. The SS soldiers sent back on Jan. 20th were sent to kill the women. That is exactly what you see in this comic book, because Claremont and Bolton took the time and cared enough, to do their research. Magneto was saving Magda becasue at that point, he wasn't the target, yet. If they were out by the burial pits to the northwest of the camp, that is a point close to the forest. It just makes sense.

(9) New Mutants #61, March 1988. On page 22, Magneto is alone, kneeling over the dead body of Doug Ramsey, thinking thoughts only the reader can see. This is one moment he would not misrepresent anything, to himself especially. He says, "An ill wind is coming ... they are registering mutants ... like they once registered my people in Poland ...! Who knows what horrors await us." Only the Jews were registered, and forced to wear armbands with the Star of David on them, in Poland (at the end of 1939). Efforts to murder the Polska Roma (the Polish Roma) began in 1942, but they weren't registered first. Young Magnus wouldn't have known about any of that in any case-- he was already at Auschwitz by 1942. He would only have known that "my people" the Jewish people in Poland, including the German Jews who had already been deported there in the first months of the War, were registered.

(10) Classic X-Men #19, March 1988, back-up story. Magneto is apparently working for the CIA hunting Nazis. He is about to be betrayed by them, and his lady love of that time, Isabelle, is about to be murdered. But as he is apprehending a Nazi war criminal he gets one of his massive headaches. "Pain," he thinks, "again indescribable." "Worse than the bite of the kapo's whip. The murder of parents and family, the death of a child ... the loss of a beloved wife!" So here we see that Magneto was the victim of kapos. He could not have been a kapo. He was too young anyway, as we've seen. He grew up in Auschwitz. Here he says the murder of parents, and family. The parents separate, gunned down. The remainder of his family, no doubt sent to the gas chambers later, while he was in the Sonderkommando. Remember what he said in UX #150, his entire family wiped out. So as a Jew in the Sonderkommando he not only watched his family die, he helped kill them. How can any other comic book character ever come close to Magneto for dramatic intensity, but only if he is a Jew.

(11) X-Factor Annual #4, 1989. Doom challenges Magneto to a duel of wills, with a helmet that pulls out unpleasant memories and torments the wearer. Who will crack first? Magneto takes his turn -- Doom describes what he sees, "...after the ignoble defeat of the Nazis in Germany, you and the woman Magda you rescued, fled the prison camp Auschwitz, in Poland."

"Auschwitz, where your family had perished --living skeletons -- and you had grown to manhood amid horrors most men could not conceive." First, Doom confirms that Magnus and Magda "fled" or escaped Auschwitz before liberation and after the Roma camp was murdered. Then he describes some of Magneto's family perishing, as living skeletons, at Auschwitz. They could either have been kept as prisoners, or brought in, starving, from ghettoes in Poland and gassed. They could have been either Roma or Jews. But then it's Doom's turn to wear the helmet. Doom's Romani heritage is discussed at great length. Doom is proud to be a Rom, he knows he is a Rom. Why would he not acknowledge that Magneto is also a Rom? Why did he say your family, implying your people, to Magneto? Not "our" people?

(12) And now the most important evidence, and just about my favorite X-Men comic, Uncanny #274, from March 1991. In the Savage Land, the entire comic is told from the point of view of Magneto. It is a first person narrative, he is talking directly to us, the readers. He is not exaggerating, he is not showing off. The writing is elegant and wonderful ... "My life's ambition has been to safeguard my fellow mutants," Magneto says. "Zaladane has no such compunction. And I hear the echo of Der Fuhrer's voice in the radio of memory, smell the awful stench of the sick and dying as the cattle cars brought the comdemned to Auschwitz. I wear red, the color of blood, in tribute to their lost lives. And the harder I try to cast it aside, to find a gentler path ... the more irresistibly I'm drawn back. I should have died myself with those I loved. Instead, I carted the bodies by the hundreds, by the thousands ... from the death house to the crematorium ... and the ashes to the burial ground. Asking now what I could not then ... why was I spared?!" So there it is. He describes his job at Auschwitz. That is it. This is no vague job description, this is what the Sonderkommando did. This is fundamental to the history of the Holocaust, to the history of Nazi Germany. Making the Jews the ones who had to do all the dirty work in the death camps.

Marvel cannot say they have their own version of Holocaust history. What kind of reasoning is that? Where do the editors and writers of Marvel get off making up their own history of the Holocaust? Where do they draw the line? Has any reader out there ever seen any major publisher or entertainment outfit, outside Neo-Nazi groups and the Militias or Far Right Splinter groups, who just took it upon themselves to change a Jew into a Romany and change Holocaust and Auschwitz history to make it fit? Magneto says it here, he was a member of the Sonderkommando. He was not a kapo. He was not a Russian POW. He was a Jew! On page 14 of UXM #274, Magneto is dreaming again. He again sees his family being gunned down. He again feels what it was like to be buried alive. Rogue wakes him up.

(13) Uncanny X-Men #275, April 1991, which concludes the Savage Land story from UXM #274, referred to above, also contains confirmation as to what happened to young Magnus. Magneto says, directly to the reader, in diary-like narration, as he uses the last strength of his emaciated body to push away his captors, "They think me beaten, finished. A mistake many have made in the past. As I found the strength, as a boy, to survive being machine-gunned and buried alive, and later the unimaginable horror of Auschwitz ... so do I find it in me, here and now, to break free."

(14) X-Men Vol. 2, No. 2, Nov. 1991. The beginning of the end for Magneto. But on page 24 he says to Moira MacTaggart, who has seemingly betrayed him, and enraged him, "Of course not. You worked for the betterment of the world and the race. I heard those same rationales as a boy, in the Auschwitz Death Camp. From Dr. Joseph Mengele himself!" Mengele's first victims were the Roma, he liked the Roma. He brought the children candy and extra food. And in August of 1944, after trying unsuccessfully to save the Romani Family Camp (also for his own experimental purposes) Mengele obeyed his orders and vigorously hunted down and helped exterminate all remaining Roma. He then dissected those of most interest to him, and sent body parts to Berlin. Then he turned his attention to the Jews of Auschwitz. Only his Jewish victims have survived. His Romani victims, those transfered out of the camp in the spring and summer of 1944, have rarely come forward. If Magneto is alive in Auschwitz after the start of 1945, and he personally heard Dr. Mengele, he is a Jew.

Magneto is a Jew especially since Mengele would have been one of his supervisors in the Sonderkommando.

(15) X-Men, Vol. 2, No. 3, Dec. 1991 -- Magneto to Xavier, "You speak to the best in humanity. I have endured the worst. You imagine the reality of the Holocaust, of the Nazi Death Camps. I grew up in one." Magneto says The Holocaust. This is the translation of SHOAH, and was first used after the war, and popularized by Eli Wiesel. It means the Jewish Holocaust. One can say the Romani genocide, and today sometimes you'll hear the Romani holocaust, or the Russian holocaust, or the holocaust perpetrated against the mentally ill and the handicapped. (Nazi pre-meditated genocide was really only carried to the fullest extreme against three groups, the first were the mentally ill and the handicapped, who were the first victims of genocide. The second and third groups were the Jews and the Roma). But the Holocaust is what Jewish people say when they refer to the calculated campaign of Nazi Germany to kill every Jew in the world. (They actually made lists of every country in the Western world, and all the Jewish populations. They made no such list for any other people). Nazi Germany succeeded in killing almost 6 million of their foremost victims, until the Third Reich was defeated.

(16) X-Factor #92, July, 1993. Havok and X-Factor are battling Cortez and the Acolytes, in this opening chapter of Fatal Attractions. Cortez is ranting about the "flatscans" and how mutants have to subjugate them. Havok says, "Out to destroy the "inferior" race ... in Magneto's name? Don't you know what an insult that is to the memory of the very man you claim to worship? Fifty years ago, Magnus barely survived a Holocaust that destroyed almost all of his people: all because some lunatic took it upon himself to decide who deserved to live ... and who didn't. Where's the sense in resurrecting that kind of evil ... in the name of one of its victims?!" Cortez answers, "You've seen this place Havok! You've seen the sentinels! You tell me ... where's the sense in letting the flatscans do to the mutants what Hitler did to the Jews? ..." Cortez has done research on Magneto, he says the Jews, as a parallel metaphor. Why say that, if Magneto isn't Jewish?

(17) Then comes the infamous Unlimited #2. This is a long and involved FAQ I've got going here, so I won't go into detail at the moment. But the bottom line is, everything that Gabrielle Haller says about Magneto's history is false. I don't want to go line by line over it now. Everything! Danzig was not annexed. It was a Free City, under League of Nations protection, that voted itself a Nazi government and welcomed the Nazi troops in like liberators. Gauleiter Forster, the extremely anti-Semitic Nazi leader of Danzig ordered all 10,000 Jews of Danzig to be kicked out of the city in 1939, not the Roma. The Jews. Auschwitz wasn't opened as a Polish political prisoner camp until the summer of 1940, not 1939. The Roma were sent to German municipal camps, in Germany and the Greater Reich, as early as 1933. But they were not sent to Auschwitz from Germany until 1943. The only people who were in a work camp in Auschwitz before it opened were 300 Jews from the town of Auschwitz who were forced to transform a collection of horse stables and army barracks into the Polish prisoner camp. "Genocide, extermination ..." of Poles? No. The Polish people suffered terribly, and were considered "sub-human" by the Nazis. Millions of Polish citizens were killed throughout the course of the war, as soldiers, as slave laborers, as underground fighters, as members of the intelligentsia. But this was Nazi suppression of a conquered country, not planned genocide. Roma, Yes. The homosexuals, no. Not genocide. Persecution and imprisonment. Treated terribly. But people weren't sent to the gas chambers just because they were homosexuals. And "intellectuals" ? (How could Nicieza have written this?) Intellectuals were targets of genocide? Well, I hardly think so, since Goebbels, and Albert Speer, and even Mengele were considered intellectuals.

No one was sent to the gas chambers, or was shot in an open grave, or was tortured and murdered JUST because they happened to be an intellectual. Thousands of Polish citizens who were members of the intelligentsia (the educated class, the vanguard or elite of the educated class), were murdered in the first months of the war. But there was no planned campaign to hunt down every intellectual in Europe and exterminate them. The mentally ill and handicapped, the Jews, and the Roma were the primary targets of Nazi genocide. The Russians came next. Everything Haller says about Magneto in Unlimited #2 contradicts most of Magneto's history as presented in 15 years worth of comics.

(18) Until recently, when, in Road to Onslaught, Marvel once again published that outrageous Gabrielle Haller speech about Magneto like they were proud of it (??) the next references in the Age of Apocalypse comics portrayed Magneto once again as Jewish. In X-Men Vol. 2, No. 40, where David Haller, Legion, pulls Magneto's memories out, you see young Magnus with the men, standing behind and below a high, barred window. This is an accurate portrayal of the quarters of the Sonderkommando at Auschwitz I. At Auschwitz I, only the Sonderkommando (other than prisoners awaiting execution) were kept in isolated basement cells, the windows of which were high, barred, and as seen from the outside, half-below ground level.

And why is Magneto in Israel anyway? How could he have come there? Well, why would a Romany go to Israel when at least 30,000 Roma lived in Germany in the late 1960s and early 1970s? And many more Rom formed a thriving community in Paris. Why not just go home to his own clan and tribe? Roma have a complex system of extended familes, clans, and tribes. Why go to Israel to "find himself" or find his "soul"? A German Jew had no place to go but somewhere else. A Polish Jew definitely had no place to go back to, since some Polish fanatics continued to murder returning Holocaust survivors well into the late 1940s. Any Jew can emigrate to Israel, under the Law of Return. All Magneto had to do was show them the tattoo on his arm. And he was home. (And in case some of you were wondering, as some of us have discussed, with the exception of the Muslim Bosnians, only the Jews of Europe practiced circumcision. It was a religious rite, not a medical procedure. Only Jewish men and boys were circumcised among the prisoners at Auschwitz. The Nazis already knew what Magneto was. He was chosen for the Sonderkommando, he was Jewish. He was not pretending to be a Jew. He wasn't misidentified as a Jew. He was a circumcised, young Jewish man). Furthermore, Magnus at this time had forged papers, that identified him as "Erik Magnus Lehnsherr." He could have immigrated to any country in the world, including the United States! If he were Roma, and didn't want to self-identify as such, why not go to America? Why go to the one country that represents enormous pain for modern Roma -- i.e., the Rom today deeply resent the focus on Israel, and the support Israel enjoys among nations of the Western world, while the Roma continue to be persecuted and ignored.

(19) In Astonishing X-Men #3, formerly Uncanny, from May 1995, we have the most clear reference to Magneto's being Jewish, written by Scott Lobdell. Magneto has just hit Bishop, and is helping him to his feet. He says, "Long before Xavier died ... before this point of divergence ... I stood by helplessly as millions of my people were led to slaughter in the name of 'genetic purity." Now the AOA is not a what-if story. It is a divergent timeline. Magneto says, before the timeline diverged. What other people were lead by the millions, led to the slaughter, in the name of genetic purity? Many people suffered and died in World War II. 250,000 to 500,000 Roma were murdered. Millions of Russians and Poles during the course of the invasions, and in political violence, and in acts of pure murder, were exterminated. But only the European Jews were "led to the slaughter" in the millions because of one man's racial beliefs. Only the Jews of Europe Persecutionand incarceration are not the same as genocide and extermination.

20) X-Men #72, cover date February 1998, published in mid-December 1997. This comic book makes a significant contribution to Magneto's history. Basically, the book reveals that the name *Erik Lehnsherr* which was revealed by Gabrielle Haller in Unlimited #2 to be Magneto's real name, is fake, and so Haller's assertion that Magneto is a *Sinte* Rom was based on false and forged identity papers.

The scenario begins with Gabrielle Haller, lying on her bed, working on a lap- top computer, writing the American Sen. Kelly, begging him to help find and secure the release of Charles Xavier. Sabra, the Israeli super-hero, a mutant and Mossad agent, suddenly appears floating in the air outside Haller's balcony doors. Haller has just pushed open the doors, saying, "You're too important to lose, Charles. I will see you ... FREE?" And Sabra says, "Sometimes, Ambassador Haller ... freedom, like the truth, is little more than an illusion. Don't you think?"

Sabra has come to Haller with information. She says to Gabrielle Haller: "I"m sure you recall shocking the world when you announced that you had UNDENIABLE proof ofMagneto's identity as Erik Lehnsherr. The undeniable has just been DENIED." Sabra then goes on to show Haller, and the readers, the file on a master forger named George Odekirk. In this file, apparently, is a computer analysis of the identity papers of Erik Lehnsherr, which shows that Odekirk forged those documents. Haller says, "He created Erik Lehnsherr? If this is true ... you must take me to him! He could be our only link to Magneto's true identity ... our last chance to stop him once and for all!"

But just as Sabra is flying Haller to the Transylvanian Alps, to meet with Odekirk, the scene switches to Odekirk, who is working on another forged passport, sitting in bed while his wife sleeps beside him. Suddenly, Odekirk looks up -- he has a visitor. It's Magneto, in full costume.

Magneto is floating in the air. He surrounds Odekirk's bed with his magnetic energy, and uses his power to keep Odekirk's wife unconscious. He says, "You failed me." Odekirk responds, "Please ... please, my wife ..." Magneto answers, "She will sleep the sleep of the innocent. She has done nothing ... but you ... YOU, my friend, have BETRAYED me." Odekirk protests his innocence, and then Magneto makes this remarkable speech: "Do you remember what you promised me the night I came to you, torn and filthy, nearly a quarter century ago? I was searching for my beloved MAGDA, determined not to lose her as I had lost so many others in the fire that engulfed all of Europe during my childhood. The authorities were in pursuit of me for the "crime" of avenging my daughter's murder. I was willing to deny who I was ... everything that my family died for ... so that I could find one woman ... so that I would not be caged AGAIN. The Erik Lehnsherr fabrication was a convenient means of ensuring that. You swore that the forged papers were FLAWLESS, that your skills were unsurpassed... but now, you have proven to be a liability. Your work has been called into queston by my enemies, and they will trace Erik Lehnsherr the Sinte BACK to you." Odekirk protests, "That is impossible! That forgery was impeccable! My work is ... " Magneto answers: "It was not ENOUGH! You gave birth to Erik Lehnsherr, Odekirk. And tonight, you have killed him. My secrets shall die with him. All that remains now ... is MAGNUS."

This scene says, subtly but clearly, that Magnus denied who he was, gave up everything his famly died for, to take the false identity of a Sinte Rom named Erik Lehnsherr. Since this entire FAQ has gone into great detail showing exactly how and why Magnus was born Jewish, it seems there is no doubt now, that Magneto's family and he himself, were Jews. Magnus would not say he denied *everything* his family died for, by taking a Romani identity, if his family were indeed Roma. As I pointed out above, only the Jews and Roms were targeted as entire peoples, and killed for no reason other than they were Jews and Roms. Magnus was either one, or the other. Since in XM #72, it is revealed that he is NOT a Rom, we must conclude he was born a Jew.

There are several continuity problems that arise from the revelations of XM #72. Several unanswered questions:

1) How much of Haller's speech (Unlimited #2) was based information contained in Odekirk's forgery, how much was based on what she personally knew, and how much did she "fabricate" herself? She makes a large number of mistakes, about nearly every aspect of Magneto's history and life. She also gets her Holocaust history and dates wrong. Did she perhaps add her own *facts* to what she found in those old identity papers? Was she perhaps trying to make the story coherent? As in, trying to make what she knew about Magnus and his history fit what she learned about *Erik Lehnsherr*? For example, where she says, on page 19 of Unlimited #2, "...Lehnsherr had taken to calling himself MAGNUS ... as if by choosing his MIDDLE name, he could bring some semblance of BALANCE and SIMPLICITY to his haunted life." This is Haller's supposition -- the reason he was calling himself MAGNUS in Israel. She knew him as Magnus back then, she had just found out, his full name was supposedly *Erik Lehnsherr.* Did she try to splice together the information?

2) While XM #72 makes it clear why Magnus cloaked himself in this false identity and ethnic background initially, what is not so understandable is why he continued to maintain that false identity after his search for Magda was over, and he immigrated to Israel. Did he use the forged *Erik Lehnsherr* passport to enter Israel? Why would he use a false identity and ethnic background to enter Israel, when he was a Jew?

3) Why would Magnus continue to use the Erik Lehnsherr identity during the Age of Apocalypse, especially since he publicly identified with being a Jew? (Astonishing X-Men #3, quoted above.)

4) Magnus worked for at least one intelligence agency, most likely the CIA (Classic X-Men #19). He then hunted dangerous mutants, for his own mysterious purposes, as shown in a brief cameo in Generation X #10 -- which was a memory belonging to Sean Cassidy, telepathically accessed by Emma Frost. During the time he was working for the CIA, his code-name was Magneto. In Classic X-Men #19, he is called only Magneto. In Generaton X #10, Interpol agent Sean Cassidy doesn't know who the man is who is helping him track down Arcady (the future Omega Red). Emma Frost, commenting from the present as a psionic guide to Cassidy's memories, calls the man *Erik Lehnsherr.* But the question is, after he left Israel, did Magnus use the false identity Erik Lehnsherr?

5) During the time that Magneto tried to follow Xavier's path, roughly from UXM #196 through UXM #253, and New Mutants issues #35 through #75, including UXM #188, NM #21, #23, #24, #26, #28, and #29, he referred to himself as Magnus, and others like Storm and Kitty Pryde called him Magnus. Even though he was disguised as Michael Xavier for the outside world, the X-Men and their associates all knew Magneto as Magnus. During this time, Magnus also identified strongly with his Jewish and Jewish Holocaust history. The question now is, what happened to the *Erik Lehnsherr the SInte* identity during this time?

6) Why, now, after so many years, did Magneto find it necessary to kill George Odekirk in order to protect his identity? We know why he took the false name and ethnic background to begin with. But we have no evidence that he continued to use *Erik Lehnhserr*, during each stage of his pre-Magneto career. After he became Magneto, after all the battles with the X-Men, after the events of Fatal Attractions, after the mind-wipe and the appearance of Joseph, after Onslaught, why would Magnus be so concerned with protecting his true identity? Was he trying to protect the memory of his family? Has he maintained contact with pre-Holocaust family grave sites, or places where he once lived? Is he worried that the very bones of his ancestors might be violated by those looking for his genetic material? Then there's Anya, his beloved daughter -- she was never Anya *Lehnsherr*. Her last name is now unknown -- is Magneto trying to protect something concerning her? George Odekirk wouldn't be the only witness to Magneto's true identity, either. What about those Carpathian villagers, who accepted Auschwitz escapees Magnus and Magda in 1945? Did anyone in Vinnitsa who knew Magnus' true last name survive his burst of electromagnetic radiation? What about Ruth and David Shulman, who knew him at Auschwitz, and recognized him, in UXM #199?

These, and other unanswered questions, remain.

By removing the *Erik Lehnsherr the Sinte* identity, fixing that particular retcon from Unlimited #2, and leaving the rest of Magneto's history intact, writer Joe Kelly and editor Bob Harras have not officially stated that Magneto was born Jewish, and was a Jewish survivor of Auschwitz. But, as was the case during the years Chris Claremont wrote the character, the references to Magneto's Jewish identity are there, subtle and at the same time, obvious.

8 notes · View notes

weirdfanaus · 4 years ago

Text

Amsterdam

Kara is expressing her feelings for Mon-el when he comes to visit her in Amsterdam during the holidays.

Inspired by Amsterdam by Nothing by Thieves.

Also on AO3

And once again she found herself in this position. A glass of whiskey in her hand and the other hand on someone else’s body.

She wasn’t in a pub or a club though. She was in a living room, half-naked and not as drunk as she would have usually been when she was found in this kind of situation.

You would never think that you can find new subjects in the same place, but she did that night. Sometimes, the days felt so long on the streets of the Dutch capital, Amsterdam.

Months ago, she got the opportunity to leave her city and work for a year in one of The Netherlands’ capitals. Amsterdam was beautiful in various ways. She loved how the light would meet the water, the colour of the buildings bringing her joy every time she looked at them.

And she loved how his eyes light up every time he looked at the city around him.

Christmas was coming in fast steps. Lights were put up everywhere and in the centre of the city there was a market raised. The smelled of cinnamon filled the air every time she walked by the Cafes and the shops towards work.

But she didn’t think that she would be in a living room, on Christmas Eve, dancing to songs from another century with the same man she considered her best friend back home in the United States.

Mike’s hair was ruffled, his eyes were glossy and he was mumbling the lyrics of a song that had the same name as the city they were in. Even though the song blasting from his portable Bluetooth speaker was playing in a calm Christmas rhythm, he was singing Amsterdam by Nothing But Thieves.

We live and then die as one

She had known him for years, but only in the last weeks, she realised that she wanted him for more than a friend. She wanted to hug him whenever she wished, to kiss his always warm skin.

Yeah, we all live under the same sun

She loved how his eyes and his skin shone under the Dutch sun. She loved how he smiled every time they rode bicycles on the streets of Amsterdam screaming in English and getting weird looks from the locals. These tourists. She read on their lips every time.

But she didn’t care. He was smiling and she felt like flying. She felt free.

She knew that when she would leave this city, he would stay. Even though he came from over the ocean last month. He would stay, because he wanted to study for his Master’s Degree there.

I left my heart in Amsterdam

Where I could dream and nights were long

But she didn’t care. She was here with him, she didn’t care about was going to happen, she didn’t even want to think about the lonely nights that would come when she went back to National City.

I left my heart in Amsterdam

I hit my head against the wall

Over, over, over

Again and again and then over

She didn’t think of that. She just kissed him. And decided that her heart would be wherever he would be, it being Amsterdam, it being London or National City.

She kissed him, dreams and hopes floating in her head. And even if she were to leave after New Year’s, her heart would still stay in the Dutch capital.

She would leave her heart in Amsterdam with love and no regret, but hope to meet it again as soon as possible.

#supervalor #supergirl #karamel #karamelau #karamel fanfiction #alternative universe #humans #mon-el #mon-el of daxam #christmas #karamel christmas #amsterdam au #weirdfanaus

16 notes · View notes

normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

Note

what are some things you think magnus would do to feel close to his culture/roots? one thing my mother (who is also south east asian) does is speak her local dialect with her siblings, but i imagine the language will have evolved over the years, and he wouldn’t find speakers who speak it in the same way as him (if that makes sense?)

it makes a lot of sense! and i definitely agree. i think about that all the time, how the language magnus (and warlocks in general) was raised in doesn't exist anymore. and in a way he almost envies warlocks who speak now-dead languages (like not really but there's that thought sometimes) because at least they get to keep them as they were? but with magnus he has to see his language slowly become something else, something that isn't his and that he doesn't follow because he's not at the heart of it while it changes, and it's like it slips through his fingers and is stolen away, you know? like obviously language is constantly changing and there's nothing wrong with that, but esp with magnus having little contact with speakers of his mother tongue, he's not even aware of the changes until he says something and ppl look at him weird or straight up don't understand him

and current indonesian has many words that were borrowed from english, dutch, and portuguese (source: im studying it - not because of magnus, i just heard it on a video and thought it was so beautiful and im a slut for languages - and it's easy to tell) because of colonization, so that in particular is probably what hurts the most. seeing his language slowly be morphed by the language of the ppl who claimed his land, killed and oppressed his people, tried to destroy his culture... it really fucking hurts. especially dutch, as it was his stepfather's language

so yeah he doesn't get to use his language to feel close to his culture anymore and let me tell you that really fucking breaks my heart because your language is who you are, it's how you think, it literally shapes your brain physically. even if you're fluent in other languages, it's a part of you. i can't imagine living in a world where brazilian portuguese as i know it no longer exists except for me. even the idea of like, moving to p*rtugal and speaking their portuguese instead hurts me and makes me really uneasy. so like this is such a huge loss and makes him feel even more like he's being stolen away, you know?

okay this is getting too depressing and isn't really what you asked im sorry ifnfifn

as for what i think he does to feel closer to his culture!

food. yes i've said it a thousand times before and ur probably sick to death of hearing it but what can i say, it's true. especially living in the US like disgusting sometimes i hear about the "food" my US american friends eat and im just like damn yall live like this? and not just that but US americans (and most europeans) really don't.... understand and value food in the way that other cultures do. like i think it might be the individualism inherently entrenched into most of their cultures but to me food is love and food is family, its meanings are so deep and they... don't really understand that. so keeping close to his food is important. and with magic he can even get his ingredients exactly as they used to grow there, tasting exactly the same, so he does get to keep his food

flowers. I'll forever be a slut for magnus and jasmines and the hc that they remind him of his mom? i mean jasmines are even indonesia's official national flower and it matters a lot for indonesian cultures as a whole (same source). so the smell of jasmines, growing jasmines, jasmine tea... it makes him feel like he can keep a part of her with him

tea. i know this technically falls into food but i think tea is special for him in a way that i can't really explain (possibly because i don't really like tea. or coffee for that matter which brazilians and latinos as a whole are all sluts for) because it has its own ritual, you know? the way it's made and drank, the way it's served, everything about it is very important culturally. i think it's no coincidence that magnus was drinking tea when he was being plagued by memories of his stepfather. like usually he goes for alcohol when he needs support, so why tea? i think tea provides him a comfort alcohol can't because it makes him feel close to his roots

religion/spirituality. ok admittedly i can't say a lot about this because i never identified with my family's religion and i'm far from being an expert in Hinduism or Islam, which are the two most likely religions for him to have been raised in, so jdndidnd. but since sh lore doesn't exist in Islam and magnus practices magic, Magnus couldn't be a Muslim, so i think this would be specific for the case of him being Hindu, or having an indigenous javanese religion, according to my muslim friends

but like. religious practices are definitely important community builders and carry super important cultural meanings. so i think this is another way. i know that i have quite a few hindu friends and followers, so if any of y'all want to add into this with more detail, i'd be delighted, and you're definitely all invited to weight in.

another important detail is that if magnus is hindu that adds even more layers to his relationship with flowers, as they are extremely important, especially for indonesian/balinese hindu people

music! again magic helps because with memory magic he can literally bring the sounds of the music he was raised listening to back to life, but like, traditional music styles always live on. so i think singing songs from his childhood definitely helps as well. actually, well, i think art in general falls here

obviously, visiting, since java and its culture are far from dead. it's changed, yes, and i think in that sense it's bittersweet, but there's a lot about it that still feels like home to him, not to mention indonesia still has quite a few traditional communities (although, from what i've seen, most of those are in bali, not java, and with magnus having been raised specifically in jakarta that makes it even more complicated, but also.... previously colonized cities are a weird thing. i live in the biggest city in the whole of south america and there are still plenty of traditional indigenous communities right inside the city. but i can't speak for jakarta) so he could also visit those places. and just like being in a place where everyone (or ok, almost everyone) is javanese? where so many of the small cultural things in everyday life are still present? you know? like the air feels different, it's in the way people move, gesticulate, speak (regardless of language), interact, eat. it feels like home in a way nowhere else can't and it makes him relax and feel so much more like himself, just by being there

and okay that's what i have. take this with a grain of salt as i'm latin american, not south east asian, so most of what i've said here is based on research i've done before for other asks + things i've heard from my SE Asian friends + more generic experiences with being a third worlder/previously colonized. thank you so much for that, i really loved this ask!

all the thanks to @pastaingallday for being an absolute babe with endless patience and helping me out with my muslim magnus questions. this post would probably be a mess without her <3 thank you so much baby, i love you

#magnus bane #magnus bane meta #shadowhunters #sh meta #sh #meta #ask #anonymous

16 notes · View notes

13reasonstoeatthatcake · 4 years ago

Text

Neil and languages

Neil knowing two languages other than English is already impressive, as I'm sure everyone is aware, but the fact of the matter is, for someone who'd supposedly hid all over the world from his mafioso father, I'm afraid German and French are... woefully inadequate in helping him blend in.

(Just to be clear, Nora Sakavic has absolutely made a masterpiece and I'd never dream of creating something as amazing as the All For The Game trilogy. It's just that I'm a language nerd and also from (Eastern) Europe, and I love forcing my own interests and experiences on characters, and as Neil is one of the only trilingual characters I've ever seen in media I can't pass up on the opportunity to make him a polyglot.)

So, without further ado, I present to you: the languages Neil Josten has had to use while on the run, a very long list of HCs.

English: since it's (presumably) Neil's mother language, he has the most practice with switching dialects in English. Neil can do almost every English accent that he's come across, which is helpful for when he needs to blend in a country where the official language is English (USA, Canada, Australia, New Zealand are most frequent but he's also had to do it in India and Malaysia. Not UK, for obvious reasons, and pretending to be tourists in Europe can only hold up for so long)

German: German accents are ridiculous, but significantly easier to pull off than English accents. The Austrian and Hessen accents in particular are hellish for me, but knowing Neil he probably has them all down pat. You can maybe use German outside of Germany, Switzerland and Austria, especially in France and Italy where a lot of people learn German rather than English, but up north? Yeah, no, there it's either one of the holy trinity Danish/Norwegian/Swedish or English. We're not even mentioning Finnish, oh no. A lot of people in Egypt speak German as their third language, as well as Poland and other West/South Slavic nations, but then you risk standing out as that foreign German mother and son combo, which, no. Speaking of German, though,

Yiddish: Is a language very close to German, as in close enough that even I, who can hardly understand German, gets the gist of it. Even if Mary was not a practicing Jew, or knew Hebrew or another dialect better, it's an easy language to pick up when you have German as a base and also creates a fuller backstory. The downside to that is that it's recognisable that a Jewish, Yiddish mother and son combo are walking around, so maybe it's used in rare occasions.

Arabic: I actually hc Mary's family immigrated from Israel years ago and since they both look vaguely Arab/'eastern' enough to pass, and since in the books Neil says they spent some time in Dubai, they've probably had to learn some Arabic. They probably learned Modern Standard Arabic, and depending on how long they stayed in a country, they adapted it to the local dialect. (Arabic dialects vary from each other about as much as Chinese dialects do, aka A Lot. They probably used the excuse that nobody would understand their mother dialect and that's why they communicate in MSA only, but again, no matter how common that is it would still make them paranoid about standing out and so they'd move quickly.) A lot of Arabic countries however also speak a lot of

French: honestly, out of all the languages Neil speaks this is probably the hardest one because French people are fucking judgemental when you fuck up even a slight thing, ergo there's a higher risk of them being revealed because of 'oh yeah, mother and son, their French was horrendous'. French is spoken in Switzerland, Morocco and other Arabic countries, Québec, the whole of French Polynesia, also a lot of Slavic countries under the rule of USSR, but that's the older folks.

Serbian: As much as I'd like to get my favourite character to speak my mother language, I'm certain if Mary had to choose a Slavic language (other than Russian, which in official(?) post-canon Neil learns with Andrew) to learn it would have been Serbian, because it comes in a three-way package deal with fluency in Bosnian and Croatian, which makes it a lot easier to disappear. Additionally, it gives a good understanding of how other Slavic languages work, and it's only a matter of some tweaking to pretend to speak another Slavic language entirely. As someone from the literal only Slavic language that doesn't use cases, I understand up to 80% of every South Slavic and East Slavic language, and if somebody informs me of what roughly is going on, I can understand up to 70% of every West Slavic one as well. Neil and his mother might not have learned Russian, but Serbian is a must, especially since they'd blend in better with us Balkan folk than the more northern countries. Countries Serbian can be used in, with some minor tweaking: Serbia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Albania, Greece, Turkey, Romania, Slovenia, Slovakia, alongside almost all of Europe if they decide to act as immigrants or tourists (this last point counts for every language on this list, by the way)

Spanish: Spanish is the third most spoken language in the world after Chinese and English (if we're talking native speakers). There is literally no continent where it isn't spoken. While they would need to tweak their accents and such, the entirety of South America, Mexico, Cuba, the Phillipines and some African countries are all ideal places to hide. Portugese, I know, is an entirely different language, but not that hard to get the knack of once you have Spanish as a base, and it's the same thing with Italian.

Languages Neil and his mother haven't learned, even though they've hidden in the countries: a rough overview. (Note: though he hasn't learned them, Neil still probably had to memorise a set list of phrases well enough to sound fluent, but shy.)

Any northern European language. Mary was insistent they don't waste time or effort on non-essential or one-note languages; Dutch, Norwegian and Swedish are only useful in small parts of Europe and Africa, and speaking Afrikaans in Africa is a good way to get noticed, so they didn't learn that. Same thing with Finnish, Latvian, Estonian, Lituanian. They had some basic understanding of Belarussian and Russian thanks to Serbian, but nothing more.

Any African language. While Swahili is spoken all thorough Africa, it's not the language barrier that makes it hard to blend in but the colour of their skin, ergo almost the whole continent is out.

Indian languages. They'd only hidden in big cities, so people knew English, and Hindi is too complicated to learn when you're moving through so many different dialects and other, completely different languages.

Any and all languages in the Caucasus region. Those are hard to speak or learn, and they don't stay long there anyway. A lot of people there speak Russian as their second language, as well as people from Central Asia (Kazakhstan, Mongolia, etc) but again, they don't spend much time there.

Turkic languages. They learned a bit in Turkey, but again, it's not useful enough, and the dialect variations are too big without a common dialect to bind them together like Arabic had. Same thing with Greek or Albanian.

Any East Asian languages. Two non-Asians speaking any East Asian language causes too much attention.

For now, this is all I’ve got on the ‘polyglot Neil’ front. If I ever decide to include something else, it’s probably not going to be as long!

Polish. The name ‘Wesninski’ sounds Polish, if nothing else (I couldn’t find an etymology that wasn’t connected to this series) and there’s supposed to be a lot of Polish immigrants in Baltimore, so I think if Nathan Wesninski ever knew Polish, Mary would never want to hear the language again, and even if he had no connection to his Polish roots, she still would associate the language with him. Maybe Neil would one day decide to learn it, but until then it’s probably just another thing that reminds him of his father.

Bonus round:

If we're disregarding what Nora said while answering questions on tumblr and instead bend to the laws of logic, Mary and Neil would have learned Russian because it's literally THE lingua franca of Eastern Europe. It doesn't matter if you're in Bulgaria, Georgia or Kazakhstan, you speak Russian and people naturally assume you're here for work. However, I love andreil more than I love being this petty, so ig them learning Russian together is cute enough to make me forget the logistic nightmare this is.

#aftg #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #my nerd is showing but do i care? no #also if somebody has something to add or if i've messed up somewhere #please tell me #kei talks fandom #jewish!neil #i guess but it's not a big part of it #mary hartford

15 notes · View notes

warofshadowstheorder · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 04

The flow of the Atlantic Ocean was calm and steady. Airplanes flew overhead as different boats and ships floated by on their way to various destinations. Underneath the waves, the various marine life forms that populated it went about their daily lives and saw to their needs. In the sky, a Peregrine Falcon gracefully and swiftly soared through the air. It flew through the sky and away from the populous nations that surrounded it.

The bird’s path instead led it far away from the nearest logical established landing place and far into the Atlantic in a region very seldom traveled. An island measuring five miles around, located approximately 100 miles northwest of Ireland, shrouded in mist was the bird’s final destination.

The falcon flew directly into a mist off the coast of the island and perched on a high tower. The tower was a parapet that was part of a 20-foot high wall encircling the island like a giant snake protectively coiling around its eggs beginning approximately 20 yards inland with the Atlantic Ocean forming a natural moat. The island varied in elevation, the lowest points being by the ocean, the rest of it was mainly rises that rose into hills and back down again. The highest part took up most of the northwestern, northern, and northeastern sectors of the island. It was a mountain rising up to 3,000 feet with a prominent ridge at 1,200 feet. The locals called the mountain Mount Titus, the ridge they called Gideon Ridge. Together, they formed an impenetrable barrier from the part of the island.

There was a large quarry not much farther inland from Mount Titus. Several teenage boys were inside hard at work harvesting ore, under the supervision of a few older men. Not far beyond that was a mine shaft with more teenage boys occasionally entering and emerging from it. On the western coast of the island, there was a small hydroelectric plant set up that used the flow of the ocean to generate electricity. Further inland, various structures dotted the landscape. Several homes ranging in size so that the human inhabitants could see over the wall surrounding the island were the most numerous. In the midst of the homes were a few other buildings dedicated to various tasks. All of the homes and buildings branched out from a prominent hill, whose peak was dominated by a large breathtaking church built after the manner of a Gothic Cathedral.

The soil on the island was the most fertile imaginable. Over parts of the island not taken up by man made structures corn, potatoes, turnips, spinach, lettuce, carrots, apples, oranges, and various other forms of vegetation thrived alongside cattle, horses, chickens, pigs, and other animals grazing freely over seemingly endless fields of grass. On another part of the island falcons, pigeons, doves, and numerous kinds of birds flew through the air; sailing on the winds before perching on some of the various trees in the dense woodland that began just after where Mount Titus ended.

The island was a hive of activity. Little children ran around playing in the warm open air. Elsewhere, activities ranging from boxing training to lessons on Renaissance art and how to cultivate the various kinds of plants found all over the island were in progress.

One of the buildings inside the Monastery was a dormitory with various bedrooms on multiple floors. Nearby was a dining facility with a kitchen and an adjoining area for people to eat. A few different gymnasiums were close by as well.

The Cathedral was the focal point of the island, with the chapel at the center. The chapel consisted of pews for a congregation, an organ, and a podium for a speaker with an elaborately carved symbol consisting of a red background with a dark colored circle on top with four white beams inside of it in a plush shape extending from the center to the edges. Another part of the Cathedral housed the chambers of the one they called the Apostle, who oversaw everything, and was also used for some specific rituals. Another room was something unique to the monastery.

At the top of a high tower was an empty room except for several large cauldrons placed all along the floor. The cauldrons were black with large handles on either side and filled with water. Besides the handles there was nothing particularly unique about them other than their mere presence.

The room was still and quiet, with a black duffel bag resting on the ground near the front. By the duffel bag was a small table where two young women dressed in dark gowns resembling Habits without Wimples sat.

The woman sitting closest to the cauldrons had long red hair and beautiful blue eyes. The other woman had long light blonde hair and big chocolate brown eyes. The brunette, Alicia Bruce, waited with barely contained patient anticipation. The blonde was her friend Sara.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be here?” Sara asked slightly concerned with a Dutch accent.

“Until he gets back,” Alicia answered in a Scottish brogue with a tone reflecting the fact that she’d been in that room for several hours, “I have Gifted McAllister looking after the boys and I don’t want to be relieved until my Odin gets back.”

“You sure do love him, don’t you?” Sara asked with a hint of admiration.

��He’s the man of my dreams,” Alicia answered “I hope that someday you can find the man of yours.”

“Some of us aren’t as fortunate as you,” Sara said, “the perfect man isn’t just brought into the Order and then given a love-struck girl to show him around the place.”

“Oh please,” Alicia said, “I completely loathed him when he first got here. I didn’t like how he was cocky and arrogant and such a smart-aleck. But,” she got a far-off wistful look on her face, “in time I got to see that he had dedication, persistence, and charm as well, and that when taken together…he was everything a girl could ask for.”

“Hmm,” Sara said, “if the first step to having the man of your dreams is to loathe him, then I should say that I have a good start with about half the Knights here.”

The two of them laughed heartily and were almost at the point of tears when they heard a sound like a rock splashing into a pond emanate from the nearest cauldron. They both paused and looked at the cauldron, ripples forming in the water.

“You take it,” Sara said, “we both know that you would rather get the news than me.”

Alicia smiled and walked over to the cauldron. She pulled back the sleeve on her robe and put her arm into the water. She felt around at the bottom of the cauldron until feeling a rock resting there. A watertight bag with a note inside was wrapped around the rock. She undid the rope and read the note:

Dieter and Olcán in USA, convenience.

Alicia’s heart sank enough that it was visible to Sara as she read the note. She walked up and gently took the note from Alicia.

“Do we have any higher priorities right now?” Sara asked.

“Not at the moment,” Alicia answered, “we should have time to bring them back.”

“Okay,” Sara said, “I’ll prepare the cauldron.”

Sara walked to the cauldron. She then put the tip of her finger into the water, closed her eyes, and concentrated. After a few moments, she slowly moved her finger in a crisscross pattern before stirring it in the center.

After removing her finger, she opened her eyes. She looked into the water and saw it begin to swirl in a whirlpool motion before stopping and moving back and forth. In a moment, the reflection of the water began to change and distort until the image in the water was of a tiled ceiling and what appeared to be a storage area in someone’s basement.

In a moment, she saw Dieter’s face in the water. He looked into her face and a smile made its way across his features.

“Guten tag Sara,” Dieter said into the water, “you’re just looking for any excuse to see me naked aren’t you?”

“Just keep telling yourself that spierkop,” Sara answered, “Alicia and I are here and right now you two are our top priority.”

“Olcán’s right here,” Dieter said, “und we are on our way over.”

“Fine,” Sara said slightly annoyed, “we have your Brussels package here, and tell Olcán we’ll have a towel and clothes for him.”

“Well stand back,” Dieter said with a smile, “because you know that I am too much of a man to not cause an overflow.”

“Yeah,” Sara said rolling her eyes, “your ego takes up too much space.” She then stepped back from the cauldron before Dieter could say anything else.

A moment later Dieter rose out of the cauldron, with a significant amount of water splashing out as he did so. He came up with a gasp and shook some of the water off his head before rubbing his eyes, the water dripping off his immensely muscled body as he stepped out of the cauldron.

Many of the people at the Monastery, including Sara much to her chagrin, were so impressed with Dieter’s physique that they thought he looked like a comic book character or some kind of Hellenic deity. Every inch of his body was solid muscle and looked like he had been sculpted out of pure Granite. His body was so chiseled that it seemed as though someone had made a conscious effort to organize each muscle so that they weren’t crowded together.

His body was adorned with ten geometric symbols on his shoulders, chest, back, and abdomen. He also had a tattoo on his left forearm that read:

124872

לעולם לא

The most prominent mark was a large black circle over the left side of his chest. It had been burned onto his skin, the borders of the dark circle surrounded his flesh. Within the circle, four beams extended from a smaller circle to the borders of the larger one.

He was completely naked with the exception of a metal Star of David medallion with each corner fashioned into a razor-sharp blade around his neck. It was three inches high, an inch and a half wide, and an inch thick. It had a silver color, with the exception of red beams that rose above the middles of the beams that made up the Star with a prominent rise and point at the center of the symbol.

“Like what you see,” Dieter said confidently to Sara, who threw the duffel bag at him.

“Just hang tight,” she said, “you have to join Duncan in Brussels for your assignment as soon as Olcán gets back and I can get the water prepared.”

“I love how you are able to mask your feelings for me,” Dieter said confidently as he walked forward to take the duffel bag, not bothering to dry off.

“Whatever,” Sara said, “Nigel says not to bother cleaning Bathsheba or Solomon since he took care of that for you.”

“Ah,” Dieter sighed wistfully, “I will have to thank him personally when I get back.”

“In the meantime,” Sara said trying to sound disgusted, “do us all a favor and cover up.”

Just as she said that, Olcán came out of the cauldron in a similar fashion to how Dieter had earlier. Olcán also had a muscular build, but it was more trim and toned compared to Dieter’s large and chiseled form.

He had the same marks on his body that Dieter did, in addition to nine more. His medallion was in the shape of a Celtic Cross with red beams and bladed corners similar to Dieter’s.

Several scars also adorned his body, including a long jagged one up his right side, and a smaller one over his heart. He also had a Japanese character burned onto the base of his neck and wore Odin’s crucifix next to his own. Olcán climbed out of the cauldron as Sara tossed him a towel.

“Go raibth maith agat Sara,” Olcán said as he dried off his face and ran his hands through his flat hair to put it back up into a flattop.

“I’m not surprised to see you here,” Olcán said when his eyes found Alicia, “don’t worry, Odin should be fine.”

“Oh thank God,” Alicia breathed out, “when the note said that it was just you and Dieter I thought that…”

“He is just going to be a little late,” Dieter chimed in, “he volunteered to stay behind and distract the authorities who were there while Olcán und I slipped out.”

“Do you have any idea how long he’ll be?” Alicia asked concerned as she took the crucifix Olcán handed her into her hand and held it tight.

“We told him that the longer he was away, the more worried he would make you,” Dieter responded, “but you know as well as I do that how long he stays locked up is his decision.”

“He’s in jail?!” Alicia shrieked out catching Dieter and Sara completely off-guard.

“Jah,” Dieter replied after a moment, “but we got the message out that he will need legal counsel, so he will be fine.”

“I’m sure he will,” Alicia said getting a smile on her face, “he always finds a way to get back here.”

Olcán smirked as he thought of his old friend and comrade and remembered some of the many missions the two of them had undertaken. One particular event that he remembered with fondness was when they went on a mission to rural Mexico and had to go on the run afterwards. They wound up in the desert eating whatever Rattlesnakes and other animals they could catch as they moved to where they could get back to the Monastery.

At about that time, Sara had again placed her finger into the water and gotten it back to normal. She then put her finger back in and concentrated until the image in the water changed from a reflection of the room known as the Cauldron Chamber, to a cellar somewhere in Brussels.

“It’s ready now,” Sara called out, “now get out of here Dieter.”

“Auf wiedersehen,” Dieter said grabbing the bag, “try not to miss me too much fraulein.”

“I will manage,” Sara replied callously. Dieter then jumped into the cauldron feet first holding the bag above his head. He fell into the cauldron and didn’t stop dropping, and he didn’t come up in the monastery. Sara looked into the water inside the cauldron and saw Dieter’s face in it looking back at her.

Once she saw that he had made it there, she put her finger back in the water and cleared it. Olcán had already dried off and dressed in a black undershirt and shorts along with the dark Cossack that had been provided for him.

“Why’d you cut him off like that,” he asked, “you’re supposed to wait for him to confirm his safe arrival?”

“I probably should,” Sara answered, “but I don’t want to give him a chance to talk more than he already does.”

“Hmpf,” Olcán lightly grunted, “I imagine the Apostle wants to see me?”

“You imagine right,” Sara answered, “you should probably tell Chloe and the boys that Odin will be delayed.”

“I’ll do that,” Olcán replied as he walked up to Alicia and gently put his hand on her shoulder, “I’ll see you around Alicia.”

“Thanks Olcán,” she said as she softly put her hand on top of his, “I’m glad that my Odin has a friend like you.”

He then left the room and made his way down a stone staircase a short distance from the door. He walked down the staircase slowly, knowing that he didn’t need to hurry. He got to the bottom of the stairs and walked through the back end of the chapel to a staircase leading to the Apostle’s chambers, stopping for a moment to look into the chapel.

The chapel was very simple, but it was all that the residents of the Monastery needed. The floor was made of stone, as were all the floors in the Monastery that weren’t earth, and the pews were simple wooden hand-carved benches. An organ rested behind the makeshift pulpit, and stands for a choir were on either side of it. Despite its simple nature, the atmosphere inside the chapel instilled feelings of reverence, humility, and solemnity in the hearts of anyone inside.

The only somewhat elaborate decoration similar to something that would be in a similar structure was a large circle carved out of a thick block of wood with the center removed. Four beams forming the shape of a plus sign extended from the edge of the circrcle, they converged on a solid dark circle in the middle of the larger one.forming the emblem of the Order.

Olcán looked to the front of it and paused for a moment to let the feeling of the place sink in. He thought for a while about what he had done, and what he would continue to do, in the service of the organization he belonged to and the ones he served. After a while, Olcán genuflected and walked across the chapel to ascend the stairs to the other tower.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw a familiar face coming out of the only door. It was a man about his age and height, with long brown hair down to just past his shoulder blades. He was very handsome, and had a dashing appearance akin to figures depicted in swashbuckling films and books. He also had alluring grey eyes.

“Dang it Tadeas,” Olcán said, “when are you going to get a real haircut?”

“I’ll get a ‘real’ haircut,” Tadeas answered with a sly smile and accent-free voice while making quotation marks with his fingers, “about the same time that you fail a mission.”

“If that’s true,” Olcán retorted, “then your hair will be tickling your heels before you know it.” The two of them laughed and then hugged.

“It’s great to see you again,” Olcán said after they came apart, “how did your assignment in London go?”

“Jolly good,” Tadeas answered with a perfect English accent, “it was difficult to find the targets,” he reverted to his real voice, “but after Jamuike and I found their hideout the rest was pretty easy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Olcán responded, “is Jamuike in there now?” he asked gesturing to the door.

“Yeah,” Tadeas answered, “the Apostle wanted to go over a few things with him before we left. You caught me on my way out.”

Tadeas and Olcán had gone on several missions and a few holidays together. They both had pictures together from various parts of the world they had visited. One favorite of theirs was them standing on the Great Wall of China wearing old-time Chinese hats. They were disappointed that they didn’t get to see as much of each other as they would have liked, but they did their best to make up for it whenever they got an opportunity.

“Are you planning on staying here for your next holiday,” Olcán asked, “or are you going somewhere off the island?”

“Olcán,” Tadeas said calmly as he patted his old friend on the back, “when have you ever known me to stay around here when I have holiday time?”

“Touché brother,” Olcán answered, “where do you think you’ll go this time?”

“I’ve wanted to go back to Monte Carlo for a while now,” Tadeas said, “I figure that now’s as good a time as any. Are you up for a little Monte Carlo adventure?”

“Thanks,” Olcán said, “but I really don’t feel like traveling. Besides, Odin got arrested on our last mission and…”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Tadeas asked rhetorically while rolling his eyes, “He’s got to learn to be less reckless and more focused.”

“Hey,” Olcán answered, “we all have our shortcomings. Odin’s happens to be discretion.”

“We can both agree on that,” Tadeas said, “but I’m sorry for interrupting you, what were you saying?”

“I was just saying that while Odin’s gone I should really stick around and help Chloe with the boys while Alicia’s waiting for him. Plus, I should check up on Declan and see how much he’s progressing.”

“All work and no play Olcán,” Tadeas said “you shouldn’t take yourself so seriously.”

“I don’t,” Olcán answered as the door to the Apostle’s office opened, “but I take this work very seriously. Jamuike.”

Olcán greeted a large black man with a shaved head and muscular build who came out of the office. Jamuike had had a serious look on his face when he came out, but at the sight of Olcán and his greeting, he immediately brightened up.

“Olcán,” he said in a Nigerian accent as the two of them shook hands and patted each other on the back with their free hands, “I take it the American assignment went well.”

“It did,” Olcán replied, “the only damper is that Odin got arrested when we were trying to get out of the hot zone.”

“Really,” Jamuike asked surprised, “does he have an escape plan?”

“We took some precautionary measures when we loaded up for it,” Olcán replied, “so I have every confidence that he’ll get out fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jamuike answered, “if he’s away too long Alicia will kill him when he finally does get back. Worst case scenario, she’ll have the kids take her name.”

“I doubt it will come to that,” Olcán said, “but he should be getting back soon enough.”

“Olcán,” a voice came from behind Jamuike, “coe in here please.”

“I guess you’d better get in there,” Jamuike said, “the Apostle has been expecting you.”

“Right,” Olcán turned to face Tadeas and patted his shoulder, “I’ll see you when you get back. Have fun in Monte Carlo.”

“Thanks,” Tadeas said as he patted Olcán on the back, “I hope you have fun hanging out around the island.” Olcán smirked and then turned to Jamuike.

“Always nice to see you Jamuike.”

“Same to you Olcán,” Jamuike answered.

Olcán walked through the door Jamuike had been holding open and heard it close behind him. The chambers of the Apostle, unlike the chapel, were adorned with various decorations. The most prominent features were three large paintings and two other wall decorations. One of the paintings was a depiction of Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” in a condition that appeared as though it was fresh from the artist’s canvas. Another was a depiction of a man dressed in Roman armor with a shield and long spear, and a black man almost as large as Dieter holding a sword with a flaming blade facing some kind of huge monster in a barricaded area near a small village.

The third painting depicted a man kneeling on top of a high cliff overlooking a vast ocean. The man on his knees had the sword from the other picture resting on top of his hands while a majestic celestial being standing before him reaching forward to take it.

The other wall decorations were two large plaques with an elaborate collection of symbols engraved on the top portions. Several nameplates were underneath the symbols, along with more adjoining plaques with additional nameplates. One of the plaques had considerably more names than the other.

A dazzling array of different artifacts from every region of the world, most of them priceless, decorated the walls and rested on several shelves around the Apostle’s chambers.

A man sat behind a desk set up at the far end of the room. The man looked to be in his late forties or early fifties and had a full head of brown hair that reached down to the base of his neck, along with a short beard that matched the color of his hair.

His eyes were green and had a constant look of compassion and nurturing. He spoke with a voice that was simultaneously calm and comforting but also strong. He was sitting comfortably and smiled as Olcán entered.

“Olcán,” the man said standing up and pointing to a chair in front of the desk, “please have a seat.”

“Yes sir,” Olcán said as he gave a respectful half bow and sat down in front of the desk as the Apostle did the same.

“I was expecting Odin,” the Apostle said calmly with a strong voice, “but I’m sure that you will let me know why I have the pleasure of addressing you. Now, you know what I want to hear, so let’s have it and we can both move on.”

“The mission was a complete success,” Olcán said in his usual tone, “the target was taken out and no one else.”

“Good,” the Apostle answered simply, “I have to commend you and the others on the execution of this mission. When I first heard of it, I was worried about our chances of success. The mission itself must have been difficult.”

“This is what I do sir,” Olcán answered with his usual tone, “and that man had to be taken out. Anyone who makes a deal with the Devil has forfeited his right to share this world with those who follow God.”

“Do you hate them Olcán,” the Apostle asked in a strong voice mingled with mild concern.

Olcán was silent. He sat still in his chair staring forward, never breaking eye contact with the man across from him. The Apostle mirrored Olcán’s stare, knowing that eventually Olcán would answer his question.

“Sir,” Olcán answered still maintaining his usual tone, “you know that the mission is always my first priority. I will never let any ill feelings I might have interfere with that.”

“I understand that,” the Apostle answered, “but I need to know that those ill feelings will not overpower you. If we harbor anything apart from pure feelings, then we are no better than what we are called upon to fight. It’s…”

“The price we pay for doing the work of God,” Olcán finished, “I know that sir, you’ve told me many times. You know that I’m focused.”

“It’s not your focus that concerns me Olcán,” the Apostle answered, “but your motives.”

“They are pure sir,” Olcán said.

“And what of the other group that bears your disdain,” the Apostle asked in a strong voice with a hint of concern, “do you harbor ill feelings toward them as well?”

“I’ve come to terms with the past.” Olcán answered.

“Have you?” the Apostle asked making a slight gesture to Olcán’s right side earning a slight wince.

“I have enough,” Olcán answered quickly and spitefully.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you talking outside,” the Apostle said inwardly deciding to move on with the interview, “and your presence here rather than the man who was in charge of the operation prompts me to ask what happened to Odin.”

“Everything went as planned up to the escape,” Olcán said inwardly grateful to be moving on and returning to his usual tone, “Dieter was in his seat and made sure that there was validity in the voice recordings that we used. But when we met up with him after the mission,” Olcán paused, obviously a little embarrassed at admitting what happened next, “our exit route was blocked and we realized that there was no way we were going to be able to walk out without leaving the rifle or some innocent bodies behind.”

“I see,” the Apostle said, “and what was the result?”

“We realized,” Olcán continued, “that one of us was going to have to distract the security at least long enough for the rest of us to get out. We knew that Dieter needed to be back here as soon as possible and couldn’t risk being caught. Then Odin volunteered to go and I didn’t have time to argue with him.”

“I take it that Odin did the best he could at being a distraction,” the Apostle said already knowing the answer.

“And I ‘m sure that he is continuing to be a distraction in the penal system,” Olcán said, “I’m sure I’m not alone in hoping he gets back soon.”

“We all feel the same way,” the Apostle said, “but I am glad to know that the mission was successful. I can only imagine what would have happened if he had become President. I don’t know if we would have been able to stop him had he reached that point.”

“We would have found a way,” Olcán answered, “but it would have been a lot more difficult and probably with a larger body count.”

“That,” the Apostle replied, “is one of the many reasons why our Watchers are so invaluable to this organization.”

“They have their uses,” Olcán replied with a hint of resentment, “few though they may be.”

“Olcán,” the Apostle said firmly but doing his best to convey honest concern, “you can’t let what happened in the past forever control how you feel and act. The past is gone, and it is essential that we learn from it., but you must live in the present.”

“My past,” Olcán responded, “is what has made my present. I act the way I do because I have learned from the past. I can’t help it if the results are somewhat undesirable.”

“Very well,” the Apostle said knowing full well from previous conversations that this issue wouldn’t be resolved any time soon, “you have two weeks of holiday starting tomorrow.”

“I will only take one,” Olcán answered in his usual strong voice.

“Do you want to spend it off the island?” the Apostle asked.

“No,” Olcán answered, “I’m fine here.”

“You concern me Olcán,” the Apostle said, “it’s been years since you’ve left the island for any reason other than a mission. I encourage everyone here to use the resources we have to go out and see as much of this beautiful world as possible. Why don’t you take advantage of this?”

“With all due respect sir,” Olcán answered in a respectful tone, “I have seen much of the world already, and I prefer to stay here. I have all I could ever need right here, and I should help out with Xander, Angus, and Malcolm until Odin gets back. I would also like to see how Declan is progressing in his training since I will be vouching for him soon.”

“I see your point,” the Apostle said, “although if you ever have some time when you have holiday and no obligations here, I suggest you tag along with Tadeas.”

“I will think about it,” Olcán answered.

“If you have nothing further to add,” the Apostle said, “you are dismissed.”

“Thank you sir,” Olcán said as he stood up and the Apostle did the same, “I will be around here if you need me for anything.”

“Enjoy your holiday,” the Apostle said, “with all you did for your last mission, you have certainly earned some time off. May the light within…”

“Drive away the darkness without.” Olcán replied before turning around, walking to the door, and beginning to open it.

“One more thing,” the Apostle called out to Olcán, “stop by the Combat Room. O’Connell will want to know that you are back safely.”

“I will be sure to do that,” Olcán answered, “thanks for letting me know where he is.”

The Apostle nodded, and Olcán exited the chamber. He walked back down the stairs and made his way over the grounds, overhearing teachers inside various classrooms as he passed them. Some of them were talking about traditional subjects such as math, science, or history; others were talking about subjects as diverse as military history and modern vernacular.

He made his way across a patch of open ground where several people were sitting on benches reading, talking, and otherwise engaged. Olcán moved by unnoticed until he was spotted by a small group of children. Three skinny red-haired boys were out in the field playing together when they spotted him approaching. In no time at all, the three boys ran over to Olcán and wrapped their arms around his neck.

“Hey boys,” Olcán said happily as he hugged the three boys when they came up to him. They were Odin and Alicia’s three sons, Xander was nine, Angus seven, and Malcolm five. They knew Olcán very well through his friendship with their father, and they all loved him.

“Have you been good for Gifted Murphy while your dad and I have been away?” Olcán asked the boys.

“Yes,” Xander answered in a voice that was equal parts Scottish and Australian while his younger brothers continued to squeeze Olcán, “is dad back yet?”

“No, not yet,” Olcán answered, careful to keep the same upbeat tone he had been using, “but he told me that he will be back soon. Until he gets back, you three need to keep being good for Gifted Murphy and stay out of trouble.”

The three boys laughed and nodded, then Olcán stood up. Malcolm and Angus continued holding onto him and laughed as they went up into the air with their arms wrapped around Olcán’s strong neck. Olcán spun around once and then wrestled them to the ground, loosening their grip by tickling them until they released him.

“You boys go and play,” an older silver-haired woman said in an Irish accent, “Mr. Olcán needs to be going.”

The three boys laughed again before running off to another spot on the grounds and starting to play with some of the other kids. Olcán walked up to the woman and the two of them embraced.

“Hello Gifted Murphy,” Olcán said once again speaking in Irish Gaelic, “was Xander telling the truth?”

“Oh yes,” she answered in the same language, “they’ve been perfectly well behaved. They just have so much energy” she sighed, “I’m getting too old to handle children.”

“Please,” Olcán scoffed, “Odin’s boys can be a handful, but you’ll never be too old to handle children. Mother Theresa would’ve had trouble with those boys.”

“That’s probably true,” she said laughing, “they’re so much like their parents.”

“What makes you say that?” Olcán asked.

“They’re wild and energetic like their father,” she said, “and at the same time they’re polite and well-behaved like their mother.”

“You’ve got a point there,” Olcán replied, “complementary opposites really do make for the best combinations.” Gifted Murphy nodded.

“Are you going to see O’Connell?” she asked, Olcán nodded. “I know he’ll want to be seeing you, go on down.” Olcán gave her a kiss on the forehead and was on his way.

There was a staircase leading down inside the building adjacent to the open ground. As he went down the stairs, he could hear the sounds of fists, feet, and legs hitting punching bags, jump ropes repeatedly striking the ground, several men yelling out instructions and criticisms, and bodies slamming onto mats.

Olcán got to the bottom of the stairs where a simple door stood against a wall of stone. Above the door was an intricately carved wooden sign with the words “Abandon all hope ye who enter here” carved in large imposing letters and surrounded by relief-carved skulls with a large fire behind them. Olcán pounded the sign with his fist before opening the door and walking into what was officially known in the Monastery as the Combat Room, but what Olcán and the others who trained there called The Pit.

Hard Rock and Heavy Metal music played over speakers throughout the room. The walls were decorated with various posters. Some were of boxers, including Olcán’s personal favorite Rocky Marciano. Other posters showed Bruce Lee and other famous martial artists and MMA fighters.

Very little floor space in the room was visible. There was a full-size boxing ring in one part, with a complete Mixed Martial Arts-style octagon-shaped cage at the other end. There were four traditional punching bags, four Thai-style ones, a row of Mook Jongs, and half a dozen speed bags distributed about the room. There was another area that was entirely matted where several men and boys of different ages were practicing rolls and throwing moves, wrestling and grappling each other in hard and almost inhumane brutal training.

The only feature in the room not specifically dedicated to combat training, was an interlocking series of wooden plaques with several name plates screwed on.

A few older men around the room were coaching and offering instruction. Olcán walked toward a man a few inches taller than him with scraggly silver hair that went down to the base of his neck, a similar build to Olcán, and an appearance so grizzled that he looked as though he had been living in the woods since St. Oliver Plunkett's final sermon. He was standing outside the boxing ring barking out instructions to a sixteen-year-old boy sparring inside.

“Keep your guard up,” the grizzled man barked out in an Irish brogue that matched his appearance, “chin down and hands up boyo, remember that!”

“You’d better do what he says,” Olcán spoke up loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “if you get him really mad he will jump in there himself and make sure that you never ignore him again.”

The man paused for a moment, and then looked at the stopwatch he was holding.

“Time!” he yelled out, “go in the corner and relax for a bit! But don’t spend too much time sitting on your arse!”

“Little wolf,” the man said in Irish Gaelic after turning around to face Olcán.

“O’Connell” Olcán said and the two of them shared a strong embrace.

“So I take it that the mission was a success?” O’Connell asked continuing to speak in Gaelic.

“Now I thought you knew me better than that,” Olcán answered in Gaelic as they came apart, “after all, I was brought up by the best.”

“You give me too much credit Little Wolf,” O’Connell answered with a smile as he placed a hand on Olcán’s shoulder, “but I’m glad that whatever you learned from me you are putting to good use.”

“Absolutely,” Olcán said before turning to look into the ring and getting his first good look at the boy’s sparring partner, “Declan?”

“Oi master,” the sparring partner, a twenty year old boy with long red hair tied back in a braid and brown eyes said in an Irish accent, “when did you get back?”

“Just now,” Olcán answered, “what are you doing here? Is this the best way you can get ready for your trials?”

“Oh no,” Declan said quickly and apologetically, “I had some time off and O’Connell asked if I could help him with Nathaniel for a while.”

“Okay,” Olcán said turning to face O’Connell, “once you’re through here would you mind if I take Declan off your hands for a while?”

“Not at all Little Wolf,” O’Connell said, he gave Olcán a smile then turned to face Declan and Nathaniel in the ring, “GO!”

He then hit the stopwatch and the two of them went back to sparring while Olcán watched and helped O’Connell with his advice and critiques.

#novel #action-adventure #fantasy #historical fiction

1 note · View note

sim-songs · 4 years ago

Text

“hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

So I wanted to answer all of these, because why not you know? @dreamsongsims now you can learn more about Belgium ;)

It’s under the read more so I don’t clog up your dashboards.

1. favourite place in your country? Honestly my home. I am living in Antwerp right now with the bf and I honestly love it, even though we aren’t really going outside much right now bc of the virus. I do miss the green and the “not city” smell haha

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad? I am okay with both. My family always goes on vacations during holidays, the last few years we’ve gone to Thailand for example but I’m more interested in staying closer to home. I LOVE Norway and want to go on holiday there again but it’s expensive.

3. does your country have access to sea? Yes. 67 kilometers of ugly “badsteden” lol (literally means bathing towns). To be honest I like the coast in the Netherlands better because it isn’t as gray and superficial.

4. favourite dish specific for your country? A nice “frietje van de frituur” (french fries), specifically a “frietje speciaal”, that’s french fries with ketchup, mayo and thinly sliced onion.

5. favourite song in your native language? I hate Belgian music, absolutely despise every Dutch song on the radio. But if I have to pick one its Goud from Bazart, it’s an older song by now but it’s one of the few I did not mind listening to.

6. most hated song in your native language? As soon as I read this I immediately thought of Banaan from Jebroer. Just shudders ugh. But really all Dutch songs in this style.

7. three words from your native language that you like the most? I’m gonna paste my earlier answer here: Hmm that's a hard one for me... Gezellig is a word I've always liked bc it doesn't have a real translation, just like cozy or smt. Another one I like is grassprietjes, meaning blades of grass bc it sounds funny and kinda rolls of the tongue and non dutch people will never be able to properly say that! and a third is eenzaam, meaning lonely. I don't really know why I like that one tbh

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom? I don’t really remember ever being confused for another nationality. I have read that Dutch sounds like German on crack, and that Belgian Dutch is easier than Netherlands Dutch for foreigners.

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best? Visit most: France and Germany, I have been to them both already but never for long and a long time ago. Know best: Probably the Netherlands. We share a language after all so we share some cultural things! (Does Temptation Island count as a cultural thing lol?)

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language? Mmm tough one to answer, because me and my bf are big English speakers so most of our swearing is of the “fuck” variety. I like “godverdomme” (god dammit) and what my dad sometimes says “godverdomme miljaarde nondeju” (there is literally nothing I can do to translate this)

11. favourite native writer/poet? I can’t think of any poets, but I like the writer Valerie Eykmans, specifically the book “Verloren Maandag”

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem? So I really like “Het Weer” by Hugo Claus, I even have a poster in our living room with the poem in his handwriting.

Weather

How was the weather in the country without you? At first mist fell over the concrete mountains.

Then the sun hung like mist over the mother-of-pearl sand.

Then the sky moved and became clammy as your armpits.

A lightning closed my teeth.

And everywhere the smell rose of the big animals that don't exist

unless in the ringing of your ear, in the rustle of your hair.

That's how it was back there without you. You are the air pressure and the dew and the snow in my skull.

It does not rhyme much in Dutch, it’s more about the rhythm of the words, so as far as the translation goes it’s pretty accurate in it’s contents but the rhythm is definitely off in the translated version

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders? What immediately comes to mind is the whole “Sinterklaas” problem where every year the discourse starts again whether or not the “Zwarte Pieten” are racist. Honestly not gonna comment on that because it’s not my place to feel offended or otherwise about this issue. Another thing that’s a bit more lighthearted is the “jaarmarkt” in our hometown, it’s like a big market that always finds place on the first sunday of the year. There’s a “stoet” (procession) with the walking orchestra, horses, horses and carriages, dogs and a whole load of tractors all going to get blessed at the church where the pastor throws holy water on everyone passing by. I have a love hate relationship with this tradition because it’s always freezing, and the tractors take forever to end. Oh and the main street of our town is completely closed of and there’s a big market with stalls in the street and everyone gets drunk of of the “jenevers” from the Scouts stalls lol.

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV? Not really, the only thing I used to watch was “Helden van Hier: Brandweer” (Heroes from here: fire brigade), it was just following the fire brigade around to fires and what not.

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get? ah je moe kakken moe je kakken he 😉

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with? Hate: Belgians are small-minded people not interested in anything going on outside of their home. Just not true at all. Sure there are people like that but every country has those. Agree: Belgians are hard to get to know. I hear this one a lot and I can see why people say that.

17. are you interested in your country’s history? Copied from an earlier answer: I am interested in history in general, it was one of my favourite classes in high school. I do like learning about Belgian history, mainly because Belgian history is, in one term, a messy bitch

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language? Yes, I speak with a “Kempisch” accent, but in general I’m still pretty understandable.

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem? I really don’t care about our flag, the Flemish Lion is being overly politicized to exclude the Walons lately and our national anthem is meh, no one can sing it and it’s more of a joke to people my age I think.

20. which sport is The Sport in your country? Soccer (or football idk) and veldrijden (literally field riding, but cyclo-cross as the translation) GO Wout van Aert! (idc abt sports but he’s local to me so)

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be? I’m not sure if this means you want to get rid of it or if you want to memorialize it? Getting rid of ��Manneken Pis” because he’s stupid and memorializing an entire classic “frietkot”

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed? Proud: Our cultural diversity and lately our banding together during the crisis Ashamed: All the racists (looking at you Vlaams Belang)

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country? BEER, ALL THE BEER

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country? Honestly our own nation is most joked about for good reasons. Flemish joke about the Walons and vice versa, and everyone jokes about the joke that is our government.

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country? I’m happy where I’m at now, so no.

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal? I have never seen any prominent representation of Belgian in a Hollywood movie.

27. favourite national celebrity? Probably Tom Waes

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites? We dont have much haha, we have rivers, most notably “De Shelde” which runs though Antwerp not too far from my apparment.

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country? Flemish and Walons have always had beef, so yeah.

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family? I had a phase where I was into genealogy and it’s safe to say I’m one of the most Belgian Belgians out there lol, especially on mothers side her family literally has been living in the same place since the 1600′s and my grandparents had never seen the ocean until my parents took them.

#ask game #non sims #dont mind me i just wanted to answer all of them #anyway if u dont care just scroll past

8 notes · View notes

berniesrevolution · 6 years ago

Photo

JACOBIN MAGAZINE

If you go by most of what you see in the media, you would think politics is governed by some strange version of Newtonian physics. “Both sides” are perennially to blame, and if there’s ever dangerous excesses on one end of the political spectrum, then they must of course be evened out by the existence of equally dangerous excesses on the other end.

It’s why, after George Soros was mailed a bomb, Chuck Schumer felt the need to announce that “despicable acts of violence and harassment are being carried out by radicals across the political spectrum.” And why the New York Times, after more explosives were sent to individuals hated by the Trump-loving Right, decidedthe explosives were adding “to [a] climate of overheated partisan rancor.”

Yet we’re now at a moment when it’s indisputable that only one of these “sides” has actually become a vehicle for dangerous, violent extremism.

I’m speaking about the quickly fading line between the far Right and “mainstream” conservatism. This isn’t really a new phenomenon. The dividing line between US conservatism and fringe bigots of various kinds has always been pretty flimsy; the old, “respectable” conservatism represented by William F. Buckley and pined for by today’s centrist pundits was also a deeply racist one. It’s not a mystery why the Klan endorsed Ronald Reagan for president twice.

But just consider some of the events of the past few weeks. The “theory” that the bombs sent by Trump superfan Cesar Sayoc were a “false flag” orchestrated by the Left quickly moved from far right internet message boards to being broadcast by “mainstream” conservatives, including Rush Limbaugh, Ann Coulter, Lou Dobbs, Michael Savage, various Fox News guests, and even a Republican lawmaker, Matt Gaetz. Gaetz, along with “mainstream” conservatives like Newt Gingrich, also floated the idea that the thousands of Central American migrants traveling to Mexico and the US-Mexican border were being funded by some mysterious agent of chaos. One of these conservatives was pundit and prolific conspiracy theorist Erick Erickson, who for some reason was invited this past Sunday onto Meet the Press where he play-acted as a sober moderate and lectured conservatives to drop the crazy talk.

It called to mind the recent episode in which conservative legal thinker Ed Whelan invented an alternative��explanation” for Brett Kavanaugh’s alleged assault of Christine Blasey Ford that involved a Kavanaugh doppelgänger, defaming an innocent man in the process. It also calls to mind that, even now, a majority of Republicans believe Obama was born in Kenya.

This is far from the only recent instance of crossover between the far and “mainstream” Right. British far-right figure Stephen Yaxley-Lennon (a.k.a. “Tommy Robinson”) was invited by Republican congressman Paul Gosar to speak to the Conservative Opportunity Society, a group of right-wing House Republicans founded by Steve King. This is only a few months after Gosar traveled to London and spoke in support of Yaxley-Lennon at a protest peopled with other far-right figures, where he called Muslim men a “scourge.” The Arizona GOP said nothing.

Speaking of Steve King — the Republican congressman who, whoopsie daisy, just happens to somehow constantly retweet, meet with, and sound exactly like neo-Nazis — his “mainstream” colleagues seem to have a hard time condemning him. Here’s a parade of local GOP officials defending King and whitewashing his various racist comments (“he’s a godly, upright man”; “I think that he says what he means”;“maybe it’s crude, maybe a little mean, but it gets the point across”). One GOP county chair, when asked if King’s statement that “we can’t restore our civilization with somebody else’s babies” was racist, responded: “I think it’s a reality.” (The head of the Republican Congressional fundraising arm did finally criticize King on Tuesday.)

King has helpfully made clear an obvious truth that would be considered too “partisan” if uttered by anyone in the media. Referring to the Freedom Party of Austria, a far-right party of actual Nazis, King said: “If they were in America pushing the platform that they push, they would be Republicans.” And he’s not wrong: this November features a gaggle of real-life, no-kidding neo-Nazis and white supremacists running as GOP nominees.

Meanwhile, the Proud Boys, a ridiculous but nonetheless violent fascist gang led by Vice founder Gavin McInnes, have been welcomed into the Republican Party fold, with McInnes invited by the Metropolitan Republican Club of New York City — traditionally a hub for the GOP’s establishment elite — to give a lecture. The talk involved McInnes re-enacting the 1960 assassination of Japanese Socialist Party leader Inejiro Asanuma, complete with caricatured Asian eyes, and concluding, “Never let evil take root,” a line reportedly met with hooting and cheering by the Republican audience. The Proud Boys also acted as “security” for Joe Gibson, a far-right activist who was briefly a Republican Senate candidate from Washington, and a recent protest by the gang was organized by a local GOP official in Florida.

We can also see this shift in Fox News, the most popular and powerful media arm of the conservative movement. Fox has long been a bastion of racist dog-whistling, as Megyn Kelly’s tenure at the network can attest, but it’s recently opted to swap the dog whistle for a bullhorn. Tucker Carlson runs shows about the dangers of Roma immigration and supposed anti-white discrimination in South Africa, while Laura Ingraham told viewers that “massive demographic changes have been foisted upon the American people” through both illegal and legal immigration, and that “the America that we know and love doesn’t exist anymore” in parts of the country. Earlier this week, Fox & Friends co-host Brian Kilmeade suggested that the migrants headed toward the US are carrying unnamed “diseases,” which Toronto Star reporter Daniel Dale accurately called “a staple of racist and anti-semitic incitement for hundreds of years.”

But the fact that Fox has never been far from these more alarmingly explicit appeals to racism is key, because the same goes for “mainstream” conservatism. As the Left has been at pains to point out for the past three years, other than on trade and some aspects of foreign policy, there is very little real substantive difference between Trump and “mainstream” conservatives, which is why Republicans, including his fiercest“opponents”, vote almost exactly in line with Trump’s policy positions most of the time. It’s also why Trump’s approval ratings are sky-high among Republicans and why “mainstream” conservatives have walked back their previous disapproval of Trump and now declare they’re “thrilled” with him. As one pollster has said, the “Never-Trump” Republicans that tend to appear on TV and in op-ed pages don’t really exist in real life.

Take a look at the recent midterms, which have seen the entire GOP heavily stoking racism in advance of voting day. The Congressional Leadership Fund super PAC, affiliated with House speaker Paul Ryan and the GOP leadership, has been running some breathtakingly racist ads. But the GOP’s “moderate” elements have been flirting with extremism for a while now.

Hatred of refugees, which motivated the latest far-right terrorist attack, was stoked by the “mainstream” Right in 2015, when 31 governors (all but one of them Republican) refused to resettle any Syrian refugees in their states. Hapless “moderate” Jeb Bush suggested letting in only the Christian ones. The following year, Ted Cruz, then another “moderate” alternative to Donald Trump, ran a campaign ad that was essentially Willie Horton for immigrant communities.

The Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC), the annual confluence of “mainstream” conservatism’s brightest lights, has for many years been a cesspool of far-right talking points, ideas, and figures. Figures like Pamela Geller and Frank Gaffney were fixtures for years (Gaffney, a conspiratorial, anti-Muslim hate-monger, was also an adviser to Ted Cruz in 2016, and other GOP hopefuls that year lined up to be associated with him). Geert Wilders, the far-right Dutch politician, turned up once at CPAC to a forty-second standing ovation. This was the same year Wilders had been invited to the Capitol by Jon Kyl, the extremely conservative Republican former congressman who was considered a “pragmatic” choice to fill John McCain’s seat in Arizona.

(Continue Reading)

#politics #the left #jacobin #jacobin magazine #conservatism #republicans #bigotry #economic inequality

51 notes · View notes

haydenandtrish · 6 years ago

Text

The Beginning of Our Story: King’s Day 2019

Hi. Hello? Aaaaaah damn that's right. Hoi. Hallo Dag. Bonjour. Hola. Welcome to our very first blog post, man are we excited to get this baby up and running. We already have so many experiences and adventures to share and so many more in store. But we’ll start from the beginning.

Hayden and I had just landed on the other side of the world and we had absolutely no idea what the heck was going on. Scary? Beautiful? Overwhelming? Find out how we are doing settling into life on a continent where English is a second language and home is a different city every few days. We look forward to sharing our experiences with you and hope you enjoy our journey aaaalmost just as much as we are

Kings Day (formally Queen’s Day) was our first introduction into Europe. And did that make for one hell of a culture shock for me. Knowing full well I needed to learn some words, I had attempted to learn the basic greetings, numbers and manners. However, I could not have prepared myself for the confronting fact that unless I was directly speaking to someone, I had absolutely no clue what was being said around me. What. So. Ever. I walked into the streets and was overwhelmed by not only the number of people but mainly the fact that I could not hear any English. Anywhere. It finally dawned on me that we were 20, 000 miles away from home and this was our new way of life. Completely and utterly alone, but ready to face it together.

The first initial moments were a little bizarre and scary, to say the least. But as I settled into watching the mannerisms and tones in which they spoke, the sound was quite delightful. And when in Amsterdam, the native tongue is Dutch, which has this little high pitched tinge to it. It was a cheerful, overly joyful sound that I fell in love with.

Once I settled into our new environment, I began to take in the surroundings. And boy were they beautiful. I was awestruck by the beauty of the of the streets, littered with flowers and bicycles, by the quirkiness of the buildings, all iron balconies and sloping from hundreds of years since construction, by the age noticeable in the trees and flora, and especially by the cheerful Dutch people who were out in the thousands celebrating their heritage for King’s Day. The usual peaceful Amsterdam streets became a sea of orange as happy festival-goers donned themselves in anything and everything that showcased the colour of the monarchy. Orange – for the Dutch Royal family that bare's the house name ‘Oranje’. It has since become the National colour of the Netherlands and is also recognised as the global colour for Harmony. A special colour for a special day.

As we braved the crowded streets we found ourselves wandering deeper into a maze of buildings that were similar but so different. It was dizzying but amazing. We were herded by the direction of everyone else around us as we moved like salmon upstream. Shoulders and arms tight against the strangers nearest. The touch was almost a welcome contact, with the weather hitting a high of 13 degrees that day. But the Dutch feared not and partied on.

The footpaths were covered with tables and chairs. Makeshift beer stalls were everywhere, of course, you could also go indoors anywhere, as nearly everywhere was open. Ready to serve the close to a million people who descend on the Bicycle City each year. Celebrations are happening all over the Netherlands for this public holiday, but Amsterdam is most definitely the party hub.

The Dutch were boisterous and happy as they milled about completely content to be exactly where they were, whether that be amongst hundreds of others attempting to slide past or inside a crowded shop snacking on all the delicious food on offer. Man did those smells hit our noses. There was quite literally nearly every pastry and bread imaginable throughout the city, dishes from all cultures, hundreds of street vendors lining the squares and even makeshift cocktail stalls. Most stalls had their own speakers blasting their favourite tunes. It is an adult’s playground, with street parties on every corner. People walk past with a wiggle in their hip and a drink in their hand. The flow of the people grooves with one another as they make their way to the next location. But the parties not just on land. Nope. It’s everywhere your eyes can see. Hundreds take to boats and party down the canals. They are packed with young and old just having an absolute blast. But don’t forget to look up too! Because locals open up their windows and balconies throwing parties overlooking the craziness below. Your eyes will tire from wanting to look everywhere. But when it gets too much, no need to go home yet. Just simply escape into one of the many Coffee Shops for a more relaxed atmosphere. Taste some of the local delicacies and enjoy a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream. Take some time get your bearings again before you once again tackle the raging party outside.

Another special fact about King’s Day is that is the one day of the year that the public can set up stalls without a trading license. So be prepared for the literally thousands of locals all over the country ready to sell their no longer needed goods to a new home. Children are selling their beloved toys and books ready to upgrade and the parents are happily milling about with a watchful eye. Chatter and music become a familiar sound throughout the day.

I must admit I laughed when I saw my first public urinal. A red, plastic, four-person outdoor toilet smack bang in the middle of a crowded footpath. And it most definitely got used. So gentlemen, if you’re feeling brave there you go. And to my ladies, get ready to pay up. Because public toilets cost a pretty penny (50 cents to be exact) over here, no free relief I’m afraid.

I can’t say how wild the night gets, because once we came back to earth, we realized we had been wandering around happily lost in the city streets for hours. It was time for us to leave Amsterdam for the day and head Nord, back to the other side of town where there was still Dj’s, food stalls and parties, but it was just a little quieter. A little more our pace after such an eventful day. Our favourite thing about this location was the street artists the city had set up with spray paint and shipping containers to adorn however they saw fit. They were so incredibly talented it blew us away. True street art on show and not covered away.

All in all, King’s Day, or should I say Koningsdag, is a complete celebration of human togetherness. We are all there to enjoy one another and the atmosphere. The parties are many, the drinks are never-ending and the community is uplifting. It is an event I would love to experience again. And we’ll leave it for you to see for yourself because unfortunately we were so mesmerized by everything around us we completely forgot to take pictures to really complete this retelling. But hey, we had to leave a little bit for you to discover yourself.

There’s something special about Amsterdam, and it isn’t their Coffee Shops. Five Days truly isn’t enough. You want to lose yourself wandering mindlessly around admiring everything you see because it is beyond your wildest imagination.

Stay tuned for our next update to come. We tell you about experiencing the Netherlands the true Dutch way, from a Bicycle. We rode 80 km’s in one day to see some pretty famous fields and we have never seen a country so accommodating to bikes everywhere you go.

#amsterdam #travel #blog #aussies #australians #netherlands #kingsday #food #streetart

2 notes · View notes

alisha21sblog · 2 years ago

Text

Languages Similar To German-

This article records a portion of the dialects like German. These are the nearest dialects to German.

Numerous dialects have a place with the Germanic language family. This multitude of dialects some way or another offer a few rudiments. This sharing makes it more straightforward for a speaker of one language to gain proficiency with the other.

Adhere to the furthest limit of the article to find out about the common thing among German and these dialects.

Dialects Like German - Rundown Of 4 Dialects.

In the event that you are a German speaker and miracle, "what are a few dialects like German" we have you covered.

You will very much love to hear that few language choices are accessible to you. Due to having German roots, these future easy to dominate.

This article records a portion of the dialects like German. These are the nearest dialects to German.

Dialects Like German - Rundown Of 4 Dialects:

Numerous dialects have a place with the Germanic language family. This large number of dialects some way or another offer a few fundamentals. This sharing makes it more straightforward for a speaker of one language to gain proficiency with the other.

Adhere to the furthest limit of the article to find out about the common thing among German and these dialects.

1. Dutch - first On The Rundown Of Dialects Like German:

The lexical comparability between these dialects is uncommonly high. More than 80% semantic comparability exists among German and Dutch. This recommends that 4/5 of the terms in the two dialects are comparable.

In any case, it doesn't ensure that they're commonly reasonable to local speakers. This is a direct result of the extra punctuation and elocution changes.

Any individual who is even a little capable in Dutch will rapidly learn German than others as well as the other way around.

These Germanic dialects, including Dutch and German, have a place with a similar language family. Regardless of their tremendous contrasts, these dialects have a few syntactic and lexical characteristics.

2. Luxembourgish - second On The Rundown:

Among Luxembourgish and German, there is a huge degree of semantic skill. They are individuals from the group of Western Germanic dialects. Therefore, they'll share numerous wordings.

German is, as a matter of fact, a Luxembourgish tongue. They share a ton practically speaking. They share a few essential likenesses, for example,

The Luxembourgish letters in order comprises of 26 letters from the Latin content. This resembles the German letters in order.

3. English - third On The Rundown Of Dialects Like German:

Assuming your most memorable language is English, German is your uncle's language. English is by all accounts the most supportive and least demanding second language to learn. This is on the grounds that it involves a similar content as German.

German and English have had a long and turbulent association. Both the dialects are phonetic kin that have been separated for quite a while.

The language structure of German and English is practically the same. The explanation is that the two dialects were initially one.

Many words sound pretty comparable in the two dialects. A few normal likenesses are:

The main point is that English is a language that developed from West Germanic. It created something like quite a while back.

Numerous German words have advanced into the English language. Large numbers of them are being used routinely.

There are, yet, significantly more, which makes remembering English jargon for a German speaker much simpler.

With regards to food or drink, German phrasing in English is substantially more far reaching.

4. Scots - Keep going On The Rundown:

Germany and Scotland have solid exchange ties as well as social affinities.

The German expression "kennen" and the Scottish word "ken" uncover fascinating semantic closeness. These words actually imply "to be aware."

Scots is a Germanic language that is a cutting edge variant of Early English. The ongoing Scots language has remained consistent with the old German roots.

Like any remaining Germanic dialects, Scots additionally share a few similitudes with German. A portion of the lodge ones are:

Scots is a language that utilizes 18 letters from the Latin content and isn't the easiest to dominate.

Yet, the comparability in the content can assist with learning the language for Germans.

Scots has a place with the Germanic language family. In this way it can have a Germanic sound to it.

Be that as it may, the language contains an enormous number of consonants with different elocutions. Everything relies upon regardless of whether they're toward the beginning of a word.

German Language Classes in Pune German Language Training in Pune German Language Course in Pune

0 notes

alsjeblieft-zeg · 2 years ago

Text

209 of 2022

Have you ever had a friend that you found extremely annoying but put up with anyway?

No, such people are not even my friends.

In the winter if your skin gets really dry do you bother to use lotion, or do you just leave it alone?

I don’t really bother, unless it starts breaking and bleeding.

What would your friends think of you if they read every survey answer that had to do with them?

This is why I rarely use names :P

Who was the last person you sat beside at a restaurant?

I sat between my husband and my friend.

Do you hate being the first person to start a conversation?

Usually yes, but I will pick up if you talk to me.

Who is popular in your country? (Singers, actors etc.)

Let’s see. Natalia, Laura Tesoro, Camille, Stromae, Tourist LeMC, Hooverphonic, and some Belgian DJs, such as Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike, or Lost Frequencies. I’m not counting American singers who are popular everywhere, just local goods.

What did you watch today?

The computer screen.

True or False: Yoshi is the cutest dinosaur ever?

I don’t care about dinosaurs.

Peaches or plums?

Both, just depending on my mood.

Do you understand art?

Rarely, but I like some of it, just for aesthetic.

Spongebob or Patrick?

Neither.

Do you read books or magazines more?

Books, definitely.

Do/did your parents buy you a lot for Christmas?

No, never.

Would you rather watch little kid’s cartoons, older kid’s cartoons, or adult cartoons?

Adult cartoons, if ever.

How about watching regular cartoons or anime?

I’m not a big fan of either, personally. But I’ve watched some anime that I actually liked, so.

What cartoons/anime do you actually like, if you like any at all?

Shaun the Sheep, it’s hilarious. From anime I liked Elfen Lied, Kara no Kyoukai, Ghost in the Shell and Serial Experiments Lain.

What are a few “dream” jobs you have in general?

The one I have, and I’ve always wanted to be a military radio operator, or a neurologist.

Out of all the cultures in the world, what culture do you find the most interesting?

Arabic, but I wouldn’t want to live in any of the Arabic countries.

What’s something that bothers you about girls?

They’re too... girly. I don’t know how to explain it. I love my female friends, but I can’t relate to many things that define them.

What are you doing tomorrow?

Going to the hospital, and then we’ll see.

Do you wet the toothbrush before the toothpaste?

I do.

Would you ever dye your hair blonde?

Only for brighter colours.

What are you wearing?

Cargo jeans and black hoodie. It’s cold here.

Do you like ramen noodles?

I do, having some now.

Do you own a webcam?

Every laptop does.

Who was the last person you took a picture with?

My friend Stephanie.

Do you like Redbull?

I don’t even touch energy drinks. Not with my meds.

Who is the last person you spent money on?

Myself.

Are you going to have a baby by the time you’re eighteen?

I’m 32 and have no plans for babies, ever.

Do you hate it when people mispronounce your name?

It’s annoying, but I can’t blame others. My name is typically Dutch, so Dutch and Belgian people know how to pronounce it. Foreigners get lost because my name appears different when written and pronounced, at least to them. To the Dutch speakers, it’s pretty obvious.

Do you have a digital camera?

I do, my beloved old Canon Ixus 160. It’s about 8 years old and still working great.

What’s the last kind of Vitamin Water you had?

I don’t drink such things.

Do you own a copy of Roller Coaster Tycoon?

What is that even?

Do you have any birth marks in embarrassing places?

Yeah, on my butt. You didn’t want to know that.

When was the last time you were in a hospital?

Last Friday.

Do you like to kill people on the Sims?

I don’t play Sims.

Have you used Limewire before?

No, never.

Are you or were you in a band?

No, but I wouldn’t mind.

Is the taste of alcohol appealing to you?

Depends on what kind of alcohol, I’m not a big fan of anything stronger than 30%.

#survey #random survey #q&a survey

1 note · View note

just-fic-already · 6 years ago

Text

Extract from ‘Au Cafe Pequod’ by @sunflowerseedsandscience

This AU has become a beloved classic AU, taking our heroes and dropping them squarely into a tension-filled setting that piles on the angst as they both fight for justice during traumatic times.

You can read the entire story here.

The other big change is that now, when the cafe is empty at the end of the evening and Scully locks the front door, Mulder is no longer on the other side of it. Each night, she removes her apron and hangs it behind the counter, fixes a cup of coffee for herself, and joins him at his table. Some evenings they share a sandwich, and once or twice, they’ve enjoyed a glass or two of wine, when a bottle opened for a customer went unfinished and won’t keep much longer.

Every night, for hours, they talk.

Mulder has learned that Scully’s parents met in 1917, when William Scully’s ship was docked in Calais during the Great War. They had married less than three months later. Scully was born in 1919 in California, and not in France, and lived in America until she was eight years old.

“So you speak English as well, then?” Mulder asks her, and she nods.

“I don’t have much opportunity to use it these days, but yes,” she says.

“No, I wouldn’t imagine you would come across many English speakers in such a small town,” Mulder answers- in English. His accent is quite strong, but his grammar is perfect, and Scully is delighted.

“Where did you learn to speak it?” she asks.

“I attended Oxford University,” he says. “I very nearly stayed in England when I was finished, but my mother wanted me to come home.”

Mulder learns that Scully’s mother returned to France with her four children shortly after losing her husband to a heart complaint in 1927. Both of Scully’s brothers, one older and one younger, returned to America in 1938, where they promptly joined the navy, just like their father. Scully has an older sister, whose free-spirited lifestyle, Mulder gathers, is something of a scandal around the town. Scully has no idea where she is; the last postcard her sister sent was over a year ago, from India.

“What about you?” asks Scully. “Any brothers? Sisters?” Mulder studies his coffee intently.

“I had a sister,” he says. “Samantha. Four years younger.” He pokes his spoon around in his cup. “She died when she was fifteen, the same year I left for Oxford.” Scully’s face is full of gentle sympathy.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. She does not ask how Samantha died, nor does Mulder expect her to. He hasn’t known Scully long, but already he knows she is a private person, who respects others’ need for privacy as well, and she will not ask for more information than he wants to give. Part of him really does want to tell her the story… but not yet. He spends too much time dwelling on it already.

Her mind is a marvel to him.

In addition to being fluent in French, German, and English, she also speaks Spanish, and enough Dutch and Italian to get by. Her American primary school moved her up a grade, and her French school moved her up another. Though she was forced to leave university before completing her medical degree, she has continued learning on her own, in hopes of resuming formal studies after the war. She reads books to educate herself on all manner of subjects and seems to retain nearly everything she learns. Her brilliance astounds him.

“Why Cafe Pequod?” he asks one evening. “I mean, I know where the name comes from, but what’s the significance?” Scully smiles.

“It’s an homage to my father,” she explains. “‘Moby Dick’ was his favorite book. He read it to all of us when we were little. The cafe was owned by my mother’s uncle, originally, but he passed away the same year as my father. He was childless, so he left everything to my mother, and with my father gone, coming back here to take the place over seemed like an opportunity for a fresh start. She re-named the cafe, and my siblings and I made the sign for her.”

He spends every day coming up with new things to ask her that evening. He is hopelessly in love with the sound of her voice. Its sweet cadence is a balm to his wounded soul.

————

It’s two days before Christmas when he begins to notice the pies.

Most of Scully’s clientele, as a rule, consists of German officers and enlisted men these days. Times being what they are, not many of the townspeople have money to spare for eating in a restaurant. So when a local does come into the cafe, Mulder notices. And the few he’s seen today stand out particularly in his mind, because none of them have actually stayed to eat. In each case, a man has approached the counter, where Scully has addressed him by name, made some small talk, and then retreated into the kitchen, returning in short order with a pie, which she places into a white box. Each time, she has handed it to the customer with a flourish and a smiling, “Thank you for your order,” and the customer has left without another word.

It wouldn’t stick out in his mind so much, except that he hasn’t seen any money change hands.

The most logical assumption he’s been able to make has been that, with ingredients being as expensive as they are, Scully probably took payment when the orders were placed, so that she would be able to afford the extra flour and sugar that making the pies would require. He’s never seen anyone place an order, it’s true, but he reminds himself that he’s only here in the evenings.

Hauptmann Skinner stops by tonight, right before closing, and much to Mulder’s surprise, he takes a seat at Mulder’s table. Mulder starts to get up to salute his captain, but Skinner waves him back down brusquely.

“You must be single-handedly supporting this establishment at this point,” says Skinner. “How do you manage to spend your entire evening drinking coffee without being wide awake the rest of the night?”

“Who says I’m not?” says Mulder. “I don’t require much sleep. Never have.”

“You must have been a delight for your mother as an infant,” says Skinner.

“Oh, I think we can agree I’m a delight for anyone, at any time.” Mulder says wryly, and Skinner smirks. Across the room, Scully emerges from the kitchen and catches sight of Skinner at Mulder’s table. She smiles, backs into the kitchen, and returns a moment later with yet another pie, which she boxes up and carries over.

“Your order, Hauptmann Skinner,” she says, placing the box before him.

“Thank you, Miss Scully,” he says. “And please, call me Walther.” She smiles.

“Well then, Walther, I insist you call me Dana.” She glances up as the last customers stand and leave their table. The cafe is now empty, save the three of them. “Mulder and I were about to have something to eat, once I’ve locked up. Would you like to join us?” Mulder is startled at the invitation, and more than a little relieved when Skinner immediately declines it. He likes his captain well enough, but he likes his evenings alone with Scully more.

“That’s kind of you, but no,” says Skinner, pushing back his chair. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” He stands, picking up the box containing his pie. “Goodnight, Dana. And Obersoldat Mulder, try not to break any noses tonight, all right?” Mulder grins.

“I’ll do my best, Sir,” he promises.

Scully follows Skinner to the door and locks it after him. She unties her apron, hangs it up, and sets about making their coffee. When she returns to the table, she carries a tray laden not only with their mugs, but with two slices of cherry pie, as well. “I had some left over,” she explains. “You’ll help me make sure it doesn’t go to waste, won’t you?” Mulder’s mouth is already watering as he accepts his slice.

“I will selflessly consume any and all leftover pie you find yourself burdened with,” he says, taking a large bite. The crust is buttery and flaky, and the filling, cherry preserves no doubt put up last spring, is the perfect balance of tart and sweet. “This is amazing. Did you make all these pies yourself?”

“No, my mother and I made them together,” says Scully. “She and I thought perhaps we could bring in a bit of extra money by selling them for Christmas. I took orders last week, and we spent last Sunday baking them.”

“It’s an excellent idea,” says Mulder. “I think I’ll need to find out what Skinner’s doing with his and see if he’s willing to share.” Scully laughs.

“Speaking of Christmas, and of my mother,” she says, “I’ve been instructed to invite you to join us for Christmas Dinner.” Mulder freezes, a forkful of pie halfway to his mouth.

“Your… your mother?” He swallows. A Frenchwoman, the widow of a man who fought Germany in one war, and mother to two boys who are fighting Germany in this one, inviting a German officer into her home? It doesn’t seem likely. “Why would she do that?”

“I’ve told her about you,” says Scully with a nonchalant shrug. “I told her all about your Lancelot impersonation, how you defended me even though it could have gotten you in trouble. She knows you were conscripted, she knows you don’t want to be here. And I mentioned that I was sorry you’d have to spend Christmas in the camp, since the cafe will be closed. I get the impression you don’t have many friends there.”

“What makes you think that?” It’s absolutely true- Skinner is the closest thing he has to a friend in the entire German army, perhaps in all of Germany- but he wants to know how she’s arrived at that conclusion.

“You wouldn’t be spending every night here with me, if you had friends in your unit to spend your off hours with.”

“Scully,” he says, “no matter how many friends I may or may not have in camp, I would still be spending every night here with you.” Now it’s Scully’s turn to freeze, her wide blue eyes fixed on him. A blush spreads across her cheeks as she smiles softly.

“So will you come?” she asks, and her voice is hopeful. “I can promise there will be more pie.” Mulder laughs.

“It would be an honor,” he says.

#txf fanfic #just fic already au workshop #sunflowerseedsandscience

3 notes · View notes