#most of the times it's a completely empty moral claim

[megkuna]

i still think the term "ethically" nonmonogamous is stupid i wish we could get rid of it. there's nothing inherently ethical about it shut the fuck up

[kittyit]

"The suffragettes are instructive. Their tactic of choice was property destruction. Decades of patient pressure on the Parliament to give women the vote had yielded nothing, and so in 1903, under the slogan 'Deeds not words, the Women's Social and Political Union was founded. Five years later, two WSPU members undertook the first militant action: breaking windowpanes in the prime minister's residence. One of them told the police she would bring a bomb the next time. Fed up with their own fruitless deputations to Parliament, the suffragettes soon specialised in 'the argument of the broken pane', sending hundreds of well-dressed women down streets to smash every window they passed. In the most concentrated volley, in March 1912, Emmeline Pankhurst and her crews brought much of central London to a standstill by shattering the fronts of jewellers, silversmiths, Hamleys toy shop and dozens of other businesses. They also torched letterboxes around the capital. Shocked Londoners saw pillars filled with paperthrowing up flames, the work of some activist having thrown in a parcel soaked in kerosene and a lit match.

Militancy was at the core of suffragette identity: 'To be militant in some form, or other, is a moral obligation, Pankhurst lectured. 'It is a duty which every woman will owe her own conscience and self-respect, to women who are less fortunate than she is herself, and to all who are to come after her.' The latest full-body portrait of the movement, Diane Atkinson's Rise Up, Women!, gives an encyclopedic listing of militant actions: suffragettes forcing the prime minister out of his car and dousing him with pepper, hurling a stone at the fanlight above Winston Churchill's door, setting upon statues and paintings with hammers and axes, planting bombs on sites along the routes of royal visits, fighting policemen with staves, charging against hostile politicians with dogwhips, breaking the windows in prison cells. Such deeds went hand in hand with mass mobilisation. The suffragettes put up mammoth rallies, ran their own presses, went on hunger strikes: deploying the gamut of non-violent and militant action.

After the hope of attaining the vote by constitutional means was dashed once more in early 1913, the movement switched gears. In a systematic campaign of arson, the suffragettes set fire to or blew up villas, tea pavilions, boathouses, hotels, haystacks, churches, post offices, aque-ducts, theatres and a liberal range of other targets aroundthe country. Over the course of a year and a half, the WSPU claimed responsibility for 337 such attacks. Few culprits were apprehended. Not a single life was lost; only empty buildings were set ablaze. The suffragettes took great pains to avoid injuring people. But they considered the situation urgent enough to justify incendiarism - votes for women, Pankhurst explained, were of such pressing importance that we had to discredit the Government and Parliament in the eyes of the world; we had to spoil English sports, hurt businesses, destroy valuable property, demor-alise the world of society, shame the churches, upset the whole orderly conduct of life. Some attacks probably went unclaimed. One historian suspects that the suffragettes were behind one of the most spectacular blazes of the period: a fire in a Tyneside coal wharf, in which the facilities for loading coal were completely gutted. They did, however, claim responsibility for the burning of motor cars and a steam yacht."

- How to Blow Up a Pipeline, pg 40-42

[zeroistic]

as much as i want the Players to win (because of how much they’ve been fucked over by pb&j), I also want to see pb&j as the sole survivors. what kind of peaceful ending do you get when it is only your team left? i want them to live with their actions of making other players ban themselves for them. If they want to win, they should deal with consequences, and hold their empty victory in a deserted server. Because ultimately, it’s not a server of gods bending to the will of mere mortals, it is the players scrapping together pyrrhic victories, living with all the bad that the conflict has brought to them, like it has alway been. no one wins a conflict without sacrifice, but pb&j don’t see that: they are trying to have a complete and utter victory. They can’t just flip a switch to revert everything to how they want it — they need to preserve it and make an effort to actually achieve the goal that they want, not just pvping the shit out of the other team. Part of their goal IS in fact get rid of the other team bc they want to ban people, but the main objective would be that they actually HELP the other players on the server, not getting them to ban themselves for fighting them better. Along their way of obsessively trying to get rid of the Players and their violent ending, they have been pursuing a violent ending, perhaps even better than the Players, with them getting other to ban themselves. They complain about the moral debates, yet their entire purpose is because of the morals they claim to have (even though they are VERY contradictory), with the conflicting ideas of peace and violence. So when the Players bring up that they have been going against their morals (by getting others to ban themselves), they immediately shut it down, because… they are right. Because if they don’t deny it, they are forced to recognize they are no different to the Players, perhaps even more ruthless being tunnel visioned on a side goal.

no matter who wins the physical war, who is left standing on the server in the end, both sides will have proven that there can only be violence, that lifesteal can never end in peace because of the lengths the server members will go to win their physical battles. PB&J can’t even stick by their own ideals to win the war, and instead give in to the gritty cruel nature of the server to be able to gain advantages, which is fine, except for the fact that one of their main goals is… to NOT have people banned? (esp because both sides keep saying that the war is between people who WANT everyone banned and those who DON’T, and yet those who don’t keep getting others banned… And, they are the ones that started it first, thus making the Players also plan on doing it… so which side has honor and morals again?)

it is also interesting when pb&j say that they don’t really have a ‘reward’ for winning, but they quite literally did that to themselves. LS has gods and exploiters, but it still is up to the players to forge their own victories, and relying their entire victory (of bringing everyone back when they ‘win’) on gods is kind of… eh. YOU make your victory, and if that victory includes banning people for another edge in pvp, then so be it (you, after all chose this, without any prompting or getting the ideas from the Players. it is naturally a place that brings the worst and cruel out of people.)

pb&j are also made up mostly of new players (and ash who is new to the whole ‘heroes’ thing), and they don’t seem to understand that a victory of their morals and being on the ‘good’ side requires sacrifice. They seem very bent on getting a clean, holistic victory, but when you fight those who want to ban everyone, you can’t get that (and pb&j have already been doing that to themselves by getting others banned, but they want a full revival to have their ‘perfect victory’). pbj are new: they don’t really see the suffering and pain previous ‘heroes’ (aka zam most of the time) had to go through, and ash is new to the whole ‘good person’ thing: he is used to complete and utter victories and power that compromise and sacrifice (something not really a problem in his godly endeavors) are a cost of pursuing their goal.

their goal for the server is unattainable, and they proved it themselves with their obsession of beating the other team

[zingingdesertrose23]

Sweet Dee’s Complete Backstory (1976-2005)

[cw: suicidal ideation, emotional abuse, bullying, body shaming etc..]

Deandra "Dee" Reynolds was born the older twin to Barbara (born Landgraf) and Frank Reynolds in 1976, the latter of which raised illegitimate children not knowing that their biological father was Bruce Mathis, a man his wife was having an affair with. Barbara was 28 years old at the time, and Frank was 33. Frank has claimed that Dennis and Dee would have had a brother, Donnie, had they not eaten him in the womb.

Dee was raised not by her emotionally distant mother, Barbara, or her father, Frank, but rather a "series of Mexican women" who served as nannies. Barbara, who chose Frank under the belief that he was wealthier than her former lover Bruce Mathis, consistently favored Dennis over Dee. Thanks to Frank’s real estate business and shady dealings, the twins had a financially stable childhood.

The neglect from her parents was supplemented by the dubious influence of her maternal grandfather Pop Pop (Heinrich Landgraf), a former SS officer, whose presence in her life introduced her to extreme ideologies and further complicated her moral landscape. Based on his uniform, he was a low ranking gestapo officer. He may have even been an acquaintance of Adolf Hitler. Barbara was certainly raised with a Nazi belief system, a tradition he would go on to continue with his grandchildren Dennis and Deandra. His home was filled with Nazi memorabilia including the German Shepherd painted by Hitler.

In 1981 when the twins were five, Pop Pop attempted to indoctrinate his grandchildren through a Neo-Nazi summer camp. All of this was so normalized within the family that the twins didn’t realize there was anything wrong or off with these things until their 20s.

Dee and Dennis went to Waldron Elementary school. They grew up in the Reynolds house that would later become the “Party Mansion”.

Frank was often away conducting business and Barbara was an absent mother addicted to amphetamines. Despite this, at some points they take trips to the Jersey Shore and the twins build positive memories there together.

Frank and Barbara were incredibly neglectful and verbally abusive to Dee, the “black sheep” of the family. Among other things, Barbara used to always say “Worst is first” because Dee was born first.

Raised primarily by a series of caretakers rather than their own parents, the twins were subjected to cruel psychological games like the Christmas "fake out," where Frank would show off the gifts the children had wanted most for himself, while Dee and Dennis received empty boxes. Frank would make home movies of Dee and her brother opening the empty boxes, laughing at their disappointment.

Such experiences contributed to her complex relationship with reality, where she often downplays or rationalizes the abnormal behaviors witnessed in her family, including those of her brother Dennis. For instance, she dismisses Dennis's violent act of snapping a crow's neck, revealing her struggle to maintain a semblance of normalcy against her better judgment. Later in life Dee still defends and downplays this behavior saying,

“Well, he kind of... snapped the neck, uh, off a crow one time a little bit. But that... but that's not not normal right, you know? (laughs) I mean, it was just like boys being boys. Yeah. That...Look, we had a totally normal childhood, and...Look, Dennis wouldn't hurt a fly. No way.”

To which Frank would say : “Whatever Deandra says is BS. She's probably just covering for him because she's afraid he's gonna snap her neck like that crow.”

While she does tend to minimize what she saw, she began having recurring nightmares about it that would haunt her for life. “I still have nightmares about it…And I'm old.”

Her tendency to put Dennis on a pedestal despite his glaring flaws also highlights her conflicted feelings of loyalty, envy, and shared identity as twins. Dee has always put Dennis on a pedestal, so when he does things that are clearly wrong she has to find ways to compartmentalize and rationalize it to herself. You can also see that Dee tells herself that her childhood was normal, despite all of the traumatic experiences.

Their extended family consisted of at least Pop-Pop, Uncle Max and Aunt Donna (Barbara’s sister) as well as their cousin of similar age Gail “the snail” who they found annoying, so they would frequently bully and throw salt at her.

Dennis:“No one likes salting the snail but she gives you no choice.”

Dee: “She doesn't leave you with any options.”

Barbara was a perfectionist about appearances, which not only made her extremely insecure about her own looks and aging but also incredibly cruel towards Deandra. She constantly told Dee that she “wasn’t pretty enough” for whatever she was trying to accomplish. She would also fat shame her when she was clearly not fat at all. (Also, Barbara later on dies from a botched neck lift after Frank makes one remark about her “turkey neck” after their divorce.) Barbara held herself and her children to impossible beauty standards, and Frank didn’t exactly help; he actually perpetuated it, going so far as to call Dee “a dog” and never calling her pretty. Dee grows to hate and resent her mother, and neither twin attended her funeral later on.

Dee was a successful child beauty pageant winner, winning several shows she entered on her own despite both parents’ constant criticism of her looks and lack of support. (Later in life when she performs for Frank’s Little Beauties Pageant, during her original song “Moms Stink” she throws a photo of Barbara in the trash onstage).

Dennis and Dee were also raised Catholic, frequently attending church and confessing their sins.

By the time she reached middle school in the late 1980s, she had been diagnosed with scoliosis and made to wear a back brace, which became the source of a lot of bullying down the road and earning her the nickname “Aluminum Monster”. Dennis began to fit in with the “cool kids” more than Dee was.

Later on Charlie reads her middle school diary entries from her childhood bedroom in the Reynolds House / Party Mansion and discovers the following snippets from this period..

“Dear Diary, the dance was a total disaster. I cried myself to sleep again last night. Mom forced me to wear the back brace. And all the school chanted "aluminum monster!”

and

"I'm totally gonna tell Eric how much I like him tonight. Even though Danielle was like all over him today in school. Mother said, "Don't bother. He wants a pretty girl instead. "'

This period marked a turning point for her depression and possibly the beginning of her s**** ideation.

In the early 1990s, the gang entered high school. Dee attended the Academy of Notre Dame an all-girls academy that was affiliated with St. Joseph's Preparatory School, which Dennis Mac and Charlie went to. By 1993 Frank was gone in Vietnam opening a sweatshop. Dee had already established herself as unpopular due to her back brace and horrible self esteem. However, she continued to try to fit in and become a “cool kid”. Having no friends, she hangs out with Ingrid “Fatty Magoo” Nelson, another girl in her class that is frequently bullied.

Other classmates of hers included the Waitress, Maureen Ponderosa, Stacy Corvelli, and Nikki Potnick.

She attended physical therapy twice a week with Matthew Mara, a boy from St. Joseph’s with a huge crush on Dee and whom the gang would tease. Dee found belonging and power in taunting him, making him do all of her math homework as well as embarrassing things (like making him eat horse poop before getting to kiss her then refusing because ‘his breath smelled like shit’) much to Dennis and his friends’ amusement. She would also make fun of Brad Fisher for his acne along with the other students. The gang would also drink and party underage frequently.

During this time Dee found an escape in drama class with Dr. Larry Meyers. He made her feel a sense of self worth when she was performing, as he encouraged her talents and cast her in roles.

Around 1994, the twins graduate high school. Around this time Dee decided to stop going to her church, which may or may not be linked to her newfound passion for the pro-choice movement. She got into University of Pennsylvania and chose Psychology as her major, and was assigned a dorm with a female roommate. Somehow Dee’s insecurity and possibly internalized misogyny created a strange dynamic between them of jealousy, rivalry, and obsession.

By 1997 her back brace was removed. Dee enters into a secret sexual relationship with her professor Dr. Gainer. Her roommate issues escalate as Dee finds her “annoying” and accuses her of copying her and wearing her clothes, which Dennis claims happened the other way around. The conflict came to a head when, as she puts it, she burned her roommate “Down to the box springs whilst she was sleeping” after she “crossed” her.

Dee is sentenced to be institutionalized, and presumably get no support from her parents during this phase. Not only does Barbara see her as even more of a disappointment, Frank probably wouldn’t set foot in another mental hospital even if he wanted to. The family becomes more estranged, and while the twins remain in each others lives, they distance themselves from their parents. [edit: this would actually be mainly after the roller rink era, as the twins were still very involved in with their parents’ expectations at this point]

By 1998 Dee was released with medication and a treatment plan, which probably caused her personality to seem more “sweet” than usual. Mac and Charlie were working at the roller rink where she also had a head injury around this time that went untreated.

At some point Dennis and Dee get involved with gay culture to the point of having an almost encyclopedic knowledge of gay slang. The gang also creates the board game “Chardee Macdennis”, during which in one game the boys emotionally abused Dee for two minutes straight, which led her into a deep depression and she attempted to commit s*** with pills. The guys purchase Paddy’s Pub and hire Dee as their bartender to help her get back on her feet. She manages to get a one bedroom apartment and a cat, as well as taking up acting classes again where she meets her friend Artemis. and that brings us to episode one!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for repeatedly losing my temper at my kinda-friend? I (17F) have anger issues and I'm working on mitigating it, however, losing my temper always involves yelling and insulting people. Usually I think this is bad and apologize profusely when I lose control.

However, this kinda-friend (16F) who I'll call E, has absolutely no respect for other people's personal belongings, space, or time. She always grabs and plays with my things during class, or our mutual friend's items (16F), and as all three of us are artists, we carry around pretty expensive equipment. (Think Micron ink pens, Winsor & Newton paint, Derwent pencils, etc., just as reference. Thankfully no Copics lmao.)

The mutual friend will be referred to as J.

So, E has been told by both of us to stop taking our art supplies and playing with it, to the point where I'll yell sometimes, and she absolutely refuses to listen to us. She'll claim that she's forgotten what we've told her and put down the item just for her to pick it up again five seconds later. The problem is that she sometimes breaks these items or injures us - she'll play with my x-acto blade and cut me, or break J's graphite pencils, or push my watercolor palette off the desk. I've really tried to be patient about it, but it's proving to be difficult.

J is quite soft spoken, so I end up doing most of the reprimanding. E also brings up inappropriate topics that make J and I uncomfortable, as well as disturbing us when we're busy and then sulking when she doesn't get our immediate attention - once I told her three times to let me do my classwork before snapping, and E cried. She never does anything in school and hates all of our teachers, so she's pretty rude to them. All my work gets copied by her. She really annoys me, but I do feel terrible that I seem to lose control so often around E, since no one deserves to be yelled at.

However, this all came to a peak today when R (16M) and I won prizes for winning a mini-game and asking an interesting question during a seminar at school respectively; the gift was a black notebook that I didn't even like, which is an important tidbit to keep in mind. R left his gift still wrapped in his bag when he left the classroom for break time, so it was just J, E, and myself in there. Upon seeing what I had unwrapped, E went to R's bag and opened it - since all four of us are friends, we thought E was just being "jokingly" invasive as usual and were on alert, but didn't stop her.

J asked what she was doing and E said she was grabbing the gift out of R's bag. This caught my attention, so I asked why she was doing that. E told us that she wanted the book, and when J reminded her that the gift was, in fact, not hers, E said (and I wish I was kidding because this is replaying in my head in 4K HD right now like oh my god pls) "I know. It should be mine." Had she asked for my notebook, I would've given it up happily. I've got too many empty sketchbooks and notebooks at home.

I immediately stood up, but allowed J to handle the situation because I didn't trust myself not to react violently. J eventually lost her temper too and that's when I jumped in and started my yelling routine. I always feel bad whenever I do this, because it's not something I enjoy, but in this particular situation I just can't muster up the guilt? E is extremely irritating, but she tells us she has a horrible home life, so I try to be understanding. Except this was just completely intolerable. R even said that he'd predicted this would happen and to just give her the damn notebook - I vetoed that so we wouldn't enable E.

I really don't know if my reaction was overblown because I shouted a lot and said things like "you were given a brain - use it" and "you're a terrible person with no morals". It's ridiculous to say all that because it's (at the end of the day) high school drama, but I really can't understand why she acted that way. I don't know if I'm in the wrong in this situation. I wish she would listen when we tell her nicely not to do something, but even when I was blowing up at her, she was just smiling as if it was a joke. Should I apologize? I've apologized before when I lost my temper, but I have completely lost all will to be civil with her after this. The teachers are tired too - when she disappears from class or talks back, they just let her be. We can't really go to them because she'll feel betrayed and then get mad at us, which is a whole ordeal, because she's known to destroy and sabotage other people's items because of a grudge.

This is really lengthy. I apologize. I just feel terrible about the situation because I don't feel any guilt for my anger like I probably should. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[thisisyourprincipalspeaking]

I feel that regardless of whatever this is, Chris gave ammo to those who were already too invested in him for whatever reason and he alienated those who genuinely supported his career and wanted the best for him. His fandom knew him to a certain degree and to do a 180 on his MO, not his image, but the years of observing his nature enough know when something is off. This mess was presented like damn near every Pr stunt, but he and his team failed to realize the fans are aware that Chris moves differently. He’s a celeb who is in Hollywood but not “Hollywood”, so the fandom immediately sensed something was off.

Also let’s not forget the trolling, he said he was LOOKING for love, not that he already had it, him saying the industry makes you do what you don’t want, him saying multiple things in People Mag only to turn around a mere 24+ hrs later and do the complete opposite of what he stated he wanted. I know there are people too invested in celebs but we’re not going to act like in this particular situation the fans just magically lost their minds for no reason. …..not fussing at you mod or anyone just typing my thoughts. 😅

They fed on the fans and wanted the fans to sell this mess but instead the fans went, wtf is this?! The thing that gets me is someone mentioned the new year and v day montage, the v day montage had pics used to answer most questions people had, meaning his team or him were responding to things. I’m like dude if this is legit, why are you bothered with a small portion of the internet. He lucky the general public doesn’t know what the fandom is aware of.

But yeah, I say both Chris, her and their teams are at fault as well as this fandom, everyone did the most for no reason and played their parts.

At times I logically have to go with if Chris said he’s married, then his married because I just can’t see how one can get on stage lie about it, like how do you explain to family “oh yeah I’m not really married and there were no actual weddings, that’s why I said “ceremonies” and how does one act like the fans are the issue if he’s out here purposely lying to gain whatever behind the scenes.

Like if this is legit, you’re telling me he and his team full of adults couldn’t have presented this better or did they simply underestimate the fans and the general public? I see things from various angles and honestly real vs pr, I can’t view things from both sides logically while understanding there are too many empty holes that allow people to insert their opinions and believe they are facts, thus people arguing over bs and forgetting what actually occurred.

There is a a blog who has captured EVERYTHING, it’s annislibrary, I believe and if anyone needs a recap go read through that mess and tell me how thinking this pr is “crazy”, it makes sense.

Like I said if he said he’s married then what more can people do, he’s claiming this either because it’s real or he chose this for a benefit career wise, either way is a bad look on his part. 🤷🏻‍♀️

fans have definitely been used and manipulated throughout this saga. i believe there's a lot of pieces that show how a game has been played the whole time. which makes the relationship that much more difficult to tolerate because either 1) he lied about very important and very harmful subjects surrounding his morals and beliefs for a very long time or 2) those morals and beliefs aren't important enough to keep him from agreeing to a farce for publicity or choosing a wife who is (even if only by association) the antithesis of said belief system.

it's atrocious to me that someone can rationalize abusing the loyalty of a fandom one has built over the course of a long career to further a narrative and give way for articles to say things like "eagle eyed fans noticed..." in their headlines just to turn around with the same mouth that said 'thanks for buying my bullshit' then decry those same fans by saying 'bitches be crazy.'

but it's the hand that has been dealt to the fandom and the best part is that we get to decide how we play.

PS principals love libraries! 🩶

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Do you have more hcs? They pretty fun to read!!!

Yay! Hi, anon! I have sooo many PeFel headcanons it's a bit ridculous, but here are some (mostly) romantic ones!

Peter Parker x Felicia Hardy Headcanons (Pt 2!)

GIF by sbidey

Unbeknownst to both of them in the beginning, the hardest thing for the both of them was opening up.

Peter would never admit it, but a part of him was terrified that the closer Felicia got to him, the more she'd be disappointed. Felicia loves Spider-Man. Spider-man and Black Cat are spiritual soulmates. He felt like he had so much to live up to. He just had no idea if that would translate to Peter Parker and her.

Peter lives in a studio. His pantry is mostly empty and his rent is overdue. He has a job that kicks his ass and luck that throws salt in the wound. He's not exactly who you'd think is behind the Spider-man mask.

Felicia doesn't care about any of that. Meanwhile, she's more worried that for her, the seperation between 'Hero' and 'Civilian' is not that clean-cut. She's not like Peter. To her, Black Cat and Felicia Hardy are one in the same - she'll rob you in an evening gown or a cat suit. She can't 'turn off' being Black Cat the way he can 'turn off' being Spidey.

So Peter is terrified that Felicia won't have much interest in his hectic, mundane life. Felicia is scared that Peter will be disappointed that there isn't some other, mundane life she's hiding.

It comes to the happy medium because that means that from very early on, Felicia is very happy to take an interest in Peter's life. So much so that it almost takes him by surprise.

Felicia is charasmatic as hell. She hangs with MJ all the time. Miles thinks she's a blast, Harry and her are like best friends. And above all else, Aunt May adores her. Sure, she thinks Felicia is a handful, but she adores her. Both of their fears were completely unfounded.

Felicia ends up saying 'I love you' first.

It completely catches Peter off guard and he kinds of stammers over his words, and within seconds she immediately backtracks. She takes his hesitation as rejection, and just completely plays it off. She meant it, but a big part of Felicia is terrified that he just wouldn't say it back, and that he was into her but not that into her. Peter is sidelined, and pretty bummed about it, but this is Cat we're talking about, and he's use to their back and forth.

A couple weeks later Peter decides to say 'I love you' first, and Felicia feels so much relief she just kind of throws herself in his arms.

Now they both claim to have said 'I love you' first.

They have pretty heated debates. Not arguments, debates.

Peter and Felicia have always had very different views on crimes and morals and exactly where the line is. As they date and start working as a unit more super-hero wise, I think they'd talk a lot about crime and the news and justice.

Peter sees stopping bank robbers as justice, Felicia doesn't. Felicia sees robbing or humiliating a corrupt politician as justice, Peter begs to differ. Their talks can get heated, but less like in an argument kinda way, and more in a 'foreplay' kinda way.

Though, other times it can make things a bit tense. Especially the more they work together. Most times their views are complimentary, but sometimes not. For example: Black Cat hates the police. Her job is to outsmart them and outmanuver them. She'll refuse to work with them at all costs. Meanwhile, Peter is no stranger being a bit buddy-buddy with the boys in blue.

Peter learned how to cook for Felicia. And he's damn good at it.

Peter's the kind of guy whose okay living entirely on pizza and take-out. Hell, half the time he'll forget to eat if he's running around like he usually is. But he knows Felicia like's fancy stuff. And he really wants to impress her.

He starts learning dishes he can't even pronounce. French entrees, Swiss deserts. At one point, he even starts trying out cocktails.

Miles teaches him how to make arroz con pollo. He even asks Miles for his mom's recipes too.

Felicia is a woman of expensive taste, and what's more fancy and expensive than fashion and food? If Peter can't buy her the latest clothes, he can at least make her a killer croquembouche.

Her favorite is his creme brulee and lobster tails.

Them dating takes their super-hero thing to another level.

And at first, Peter isn't sure how he feels about it.

That's one of the weird things about dating Black Cat. It's not like Spider-man. Being The Black Cat is Felicia's full-time job. Peter became Spider-man when get got bit. Felicia's been the Black Cat since the day she was born.

The closer they get, the more they start to collaborate. Their hero styles are polar opposites, yet they work together well.

Felicia's a planner. Peter isn't. He get's the call, he starts swinging, he kicks ass and prays no one gets hurt. Unless it's a huge scale threat, Peter doesn't really plan.

Felicia however is a meticulous planner. It comes with the job. She's use to scheming, pouring over building blueprints, paying bribes and doing the research. She's about that efficiency.

They start planning a lot more. Like half of their apartment is superhero shit and planning and photos Peter has taken of evidence. Peter's science experiments, new developments for webbing, new upgrades for their suits, you name it.

Their response time to crime gets better by the year. Occassionally, MJ plays Oracle for them (ala Batman) when her journalism job allows it.

They start doing things Peter hadn't thought of before, like nailing down concrete patrolling schedules, having communicators to talk to each other, or having safehouses.

Rapidfire Headcanons

Their favorite date spot is atop the Brooklyn Bridge. Pe's from the Queens-Brooklyn area, and Fe's lived most of her adult life in Manhattan. The Bridge is big, private, and a perfect view of the places they grew up. So whether it's for a date or a meet-up, they meet there.

Felicia and Peter have two anniversaries. If you ask when their anniversary is, Felicia will tell you the date they started dating as heros. If you ask Peter, he'll say the day they started dating as civilians. They celebrate on both dates.

Felicia loves making Peter use his powers. She'll often toss things his way and yell 'Catch!', knowing he'll catch it. Or trying to hide behind things and going 'Boo!', knowing he'll just say "I knew you were there."

Peter will crawl on walls and ceilings or use webbing on things, because no matter how long they've been together, he knows it makes her smile.

Felicia, Harry, and MJ get their nails done together every week or so. It's their gossip time.

Peter was always really curious about this, but he waits until he moved in with Felicia to ask if she bleaches her hair. Her immediate answer is 'What?'

Felicia is really into pole fitness. Peter is really into the fact that Felicia is really into pole fitness.

The two of them are the bane of Tony Stark's existence. Felicia loves harrassing him for stuff and Peter gets himself into death-defying situations on the weekly.

The two of them are always on Tony's radar one way or another. They're the source of his gray hair. He'd block Felicia's number, but she'd just call on Peter's phone anyway.

Anndd that's all I have in me now lol

Sorry this took so long, the ADHD kicked in but I have another headcanon post in drafts of things that came up in this that I got carried away with! I'll probably post that soon

Thanks again for asking this, I really enjoy doing this!

[rvnxnt]

─── ⋆⋅ (   THEO JAMES  +  CIS MALE  +  HE/HIM + UPPER MIDDLE CLASS   ) dearest reader, I am delighted to introduce ATTICUS SHARPE, the thirty-five year old, BUSINESSMAN, known among the ton to be AMBITIOUS  & DILIGENT but their foes may tell you that they are more MANIPULATIVE & ABRASIVE , but we shall know more about them as the season progresses.

a study | pinterest | connections

BASICS

full name: atticus elias sharpe nicknames: kit age: 35 date of birth + zodiac sign: january 19 + capricorn birthplace: cornwall, england gender & pronouns: cis male + he/him orientation: bisexual + biromantic

PHYSICAL TRAITS

hair color: brown eye color: brown height: 6'0 face claim: theo james

PERSONALITY TRAITS

moral alignment: neutral evil positive traits: charming, loyal, ambitous, methodical  negative traits: selfish, unforgiving, demanding, bitter hobbies: anything involving horses, gambling (horses and cards), hunting, smoking (is that a hobby?) languages: english character inspo: thomas shelby (peaky blinders), michael corleone (the godfather), don draper (mad men)

FAMILY

parents: elias sharp (deceased) + clara sharp siblings: two younger brothers, one younger sister relationship status: unmarried, unbetrothed children: none, that he knows ofpets: beau, a foxhound. arion, a thoroughbred race horse. rhea, a retired broodmare that he has a soft spot for.

BIOGRAPHY

if you saw the sharpe family two generations ago you wouldn't recognize them. kit's grandfather was a poor farmer in cornwall, with a passion for breeding horses that served only as a hobby. it was elias, kit's father, that took the first step forward - barely into his twenties when he emptied his lifes savings to purchase a thoroughbred race horse. by the time atticus was born the sharpe name had become one of the most mentioned at the track for both their breeding and training talents; beautiful, pristine stock, winning horses. 

their empire grew, anyone of note owned a sharpe horse, and they had gotten their foot well within societies door. but elias sharp got greedy; notability and honor less important than the money to be made, which is when the betting started. kit was in his teens when he was put in charge of the families books, their name still popular at the tracks.. but now often also whispered for their not-so-up-to-code betting shop. 

greed ran through atticus' blood just as much as his fathers and soon the money from the breeding, training, and betting wasn't enough. he knew, no matter how popular you may be for what you have to offer to the world, money is what really talks in high society. so he started rigging bets; paying off jockeys to throw the race, lying about the stock of the horses that entered, and even medicating horses to slow them down.  whether people know the extent that atticus and his brothers go to in order to "earn" their money doesn't matter to kit. they have enough money and influence to get away with it. or at least, that's what kit has lead himself to believe. 

wanted connections

his siblings!! especially his brothers!! obviously completely inspired by the shelby family.. kit needs his arthur, john, and ada!! 

people that have/do buy horses from the family, or use them for training. as well as people that bet with him. 

lovers! past, present, and future. he's in his fuckboy era (for now) 

i have two romantic connection ideas: one for a noble born, and one for a low born character.. both very angsty! 

[sorenrobertson]

INTRODUCING…Soren Robertson.

STATS:

Nicknames: N/A. She likes her name.

Character Age:  28

Neighborhood: South Hills

Occupation: Recently graduated Lawyer

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Birthday: December 25th, 1995

Faceclaim: Zendaya Coleman

Hometown: Wilmington, NC

Years of Residence: She lived here until she was 23 and is just now moving back to town.

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Character Inspiration: Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl), Brooke Davis (One Tree Hill), Olivia Pope (Scandal), Monica Geller (Friends), Buffy Summers (BTVS).

tldr;

– SOREN ROBERTSON was born and raised in Wilmington, into a couple that should have divorced way before they did. When her mother left, it was just her and her father, later it was mostly just her. It was easier to ignore the emptiness than to deal with it. After dealing with some bad company, Soren turned her life around in high school and became everything she wanted to be, she also found love in her best friend, Jayden. But when Jayden disappeared the night before graduation, a heartbroken Soren fell into her school work and volunteering for a political campaign that she believed in. At 23, she packed up her life and moved to Tennesse to attend Vanderbilt Law School. After graduating Vanderbilt and with the excuse of being there for her mentor as he was now the mayor of Wilmington, Soren decided to return back home.

READ BELOW for fun facts, biography, possible connections.

random facts

Although very goal oriented, Soren loves to help people. You will see her volunteering all around town on her days off.

A cheerleader in high school, she loves working out and plays volleyball at the beach every weekend

Does not go anywhere without her Yeti water bottle

Is incredibly meticulous about her music playlists, they're all curated and have to be perfect

A tall girl tm

Will do anything for the aesthetic

A self-made woman that refuses to pay her student debt (lol)

She just started working as a crime lawyer, but her aspirations are very political and hopes to switch careers at some point

Can be very blunt, but will do her best to be subtle

Claims if she doesn't meal prep on Sunday and has some frozen yogurt before bedtime, her entire week will go to hell

biography

When Soren was born, her parents were already at the end of the road as a married couple, or so she’s always believed. It took ten years for them to divorce and when they did, Soren expected it. This was her father’s second marriage, so naturally, he took it harder than anyone else, but at least he stayed, which was more than what he’d done for his older kids, and more than what Soren’s mother did for her. 

When her mother left, Soren and her father found a way to deal with the empty home; having their own lives and just breezing through things without necessarily working through them. Soren found solace in her friends, her father found it in his job where he was supposed to travel for weeks sometimes.

Luckily for her, despite the empty house, Soren had people that she could lean on with her cousin Sloane, her half-siblings Lenny and Teddy and eventually her best friend, Jayden. The last one would eventually become the love of her life, but before then, he was family.

As a teen, Soren learned to do a lot by herself, but she also struggled to find a moral compass for a long time. She wasn’t really sure of who she was and had no trouble trying to find herself. The thing was that she did it with the wrong crowd; a group of rich girls that only wanted her around to throw parties at her empty house, to take blame for whatever wrong thing they did at the mall. 

When she reached high school though, Soren dropped them all together and decided to change herself completely. She went from failing most of her classes, summer school and detention for a cheerleader uniform, honor roll grades and UN model clubs. 

Weirdly enough, Soren thrived in environments where she could help other people; volunteering at the shelter, helping out at local churches, offering a place to stay for kids that needed it.

She also found out what real love is when she and her best friend realized they were irrevocably in love. For a while, Soren’s life was perfect and made sense. It didn’t matter that she’d struggled for so long, things finally made sense. 

Until the day that she woke up and Jayden wasn’t there anymore. No call, no text, no goodbye. He was gone and out of her life as if he was never there. Soren was destroyed. 

But she stayed in Wilmington, managed to get a scholarship for the university in town and worked half-time as a waitress. She refused to let heartbreak get the best of her, dated a few men but nothing serious, nothing noteworthy. If you asked her what kept her in Wilmington, it was being able to help out with Irza Ozer’s campaign, because it felt like he was the change that Wilmington needed. 

When she got offered a scholarship to attend Venderbilt’s law school, Soren knew that she needed a new start, that she had to let go of her past in a lot of ways so she moved to Tennessee at twenty-three and considered staying there. 

But when her mentor, Irza won the mayor elections in Wilmington in 2022, Soren knew she had to come back to town to celebrate his success and to see him thrive. Soren graduated from Vanderbilt a year later and since then has been coming back to town every few months to find a new place for herself and transferring to a law office in town at the same time.

Now that she is finally ready to move back into town, Soren is working at Tanner and Son’s Law and is moving into a newly-built house in South Hills, wanting to stay close to her roots and her father’s house and is ready to help out the town as much as she used to do before she moved.

possible connections

friends, childhood friends, past flings, enemies, rivals, drinking buddies, partners in crime, clients, anything you can think of that your character can fit into her life!

[fractured-legacies]

Imprudent, Chapter 7: Plans

Prologue | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Chapter 7: Plans

Regardless of what has happened to Nephaas specifically, it is abundantly clear that something catastrophic has happened to our society, as we originally feared before we set out. The Primal Arts are not functioning as they should, but we have seen instances of the people on the planetary surface engaging in some form of Art. We had a lengthy debate among the crew on the possibility of attempting contact and learning what the local population knows, but our ship was not designed to land and take off again. And it seems doubtful that we would be able to make use of the local production infrastructure to manufacture replacements.

~o0O0o~

Stylio

Sitting in one of the splendidly plush armchairs, Stylio closed her eyes and leaned her head back. After the discussion earlier, Fia broke down completely; she’d spent most of a month inside of a trunk, unable to move and unable to die. So they’d found the master bedroom for this suite and put her to bed to rest a bit. Gambling that her Death Blessing merely healed her injuries but didn’t do anything more, Stylio had stood over her and given her a brief prayer—a spell that she’d been taught, once upon a time, to weaken nightmares and aid the mind in dealing with horrors.

And now the Lady slept. Raavi was watching over her for the first shift, to help calm her in case of nightmares, while Yufemya had claimed first call on the washroom.

Which meant…

“Hey.”

Stylio opened her eyes to see her ward standing there, hands on her hips.

“So… you were right. I’m sorry.”

Giving a small, patient smile—enough to acknowledge the concession, but not so much as to gloat—Stylio said, “I understood your skepticism. But it wasn’t as if we had had other plans.”

“No, I guess we didn’t.” Zoy sagged into the other chair. “But didn’t it make you suspicious? Even a little bit?”

“Of course it did. And if it turned out that we were walking into a trap, I was expecting you or I to spot it first.”

Zoy frowned and crossed her arms before sighing. “Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for several moments as Stylio reflected. At the Equal-Night, the midpoint of Autumn, when the day and night were of the same length, she and Zoy had been traveling around the kingdom, helping as best they could. Healing here, some legally dubious but morally important aid there…

They had stopped at a roadside inn, only to have the proprietor tell them there was mail waiting for them, and that it was about time that they’d arrived, as it had been there for three days already. Accepting the letter, addressed to women of their descriptions, they’d opened it. Inside, they’d found a passionate plea from one of the kingdom’s most renowned seers, telling them that she had had a prophetic dream, brought on by overuse of her skills, and that the two of them needed to be in the town of Rhaanbach within a month of Winter setting in or doom would come for thousands.

Zoy had been skeptical to say the least.

But they had heeded the letter, and now they were here as a direct result of it.

“Do you regret coming with me?” Stylio asked.

“No. You know I don’t. You might be a stubborn old cuss, but you’re practically my mother, and where else would I go?” Zoy scoffed. “Back to the Empire? Be a street mongrel?”

“You could be a mercenary, or a pirate. Perhaps Lady Fia could make introductions,” Stylio said with a smile. “You would get more opportunities for some fighting and glory and loot that way.”

“You’re right. I could. But I’m not going to.” Zoy smiled at her—and then jumped as there was a knock at the door.

Zoy went to pull a knife, and then scowled as she came up empty. Moving in a crouch, she walked over to the door as Stylio watched, amused, and then opened it a crack. “Who is it?”

“King’s orders, ma’am. Intelligence and other documents for Lady Fiaswith. I’ll need a signature,” came an unctuous man’s voice from the hallway.

“The Lady is currently resting,” Zoy said.

Stylio rose. “I will sign for them in her stead. I am apparently known to the people here.” Not that she was that person anymore, but if she had the reputation, she might as well use it, even for something as minor as shielding Fia from being woken.

The man—dressed in a sharp blue uniform, with a starched cap over his hair, his skin a shade or two lighter than her own—stared at her. “Y-yes, ma’am.” He held out a clipboard and a pen. “Sign here.” Standing next to him in the hallway was a handcart laden with two crates packed with folders and papers.

Trying not to smile or sigh, Stylio took the proffered items and signed before handing them back. The man fled, and Stylio watched him go.

“Do you think one day they’ll stop treating you like that?” Zoy said, moving out to the cart and wheeling it inside.

“When I’m dead and forgotten, maybe,” Stylio said. “It has been… nice, these last few years, this far from… home, to be able to travel unrecognized.” She looked at the crates. “Come on, let’s get this organized so we know what we’re looking at.”

Zoy sighed. “Can I go sneak upstairs and eavesdrop on the King instead?”

“No. Too much chance you’d get bored and try to steal his belt or something.”

“That was one time, and it’s been four years.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t funny,” Stylio said with a smile, heaving a crate up onto a chair and taking off the lid. “I could use your help here.”

With another dramatic sigh, Zoy took the other crate and started unloading it.

They were about halfway finished when the door to the washroom opened and Yufemya, dressed in a robe with a towel wrapped around her head, came out. “Oh, that was nice. Who wanted to go next?”

“I think Zoy can go. I’m going to be busy with this for a bit,” Stylio said.

Zoy gave her a grateful look and moved into the washroom without hesitation.

As the door closed, Yufemya looked up at Stylio. “What’s this?”

“Intelligence reports and the like. Just delivered a few minutes ago. I was going to start going through them. Want to help?”

“Sure.” Yufemya bent over, making a stone on a chain dangle from her neck.

Stylio eyed it. It looked like a six-faced quartz cylinder, etched with runes, about the size of her thumb. Perfectly respectable to use for foretelling, but most people didn’t like the cylindrical style, citing it as too hard to read, while others swore by it, saying that the points made for additional means by which the foretelling could work. And Yufemya had said that she’d had a prophetic dream… and while Stylio didn’t quite believe her, it was perfectly understandable that she would keep her die with her at all times. People could be superstitious that way. She had once met a man who had believed that his dice needed to be aligned with magnetic north at all times when not in use.

But rather than call attention to it—she wasn’t in the mood for Yufemya getting defensive over how she carried her dice—she just continued unpacking the crates. Fortunately, whoever had packed them had some sense, so organizing the papers went quickly. By the time Zoy emerged from the washroom, also dressed in a robe and towel and looking very pampered, they had things sorted.

“You need to try the shower dial set all the way to the left,” Zoy said with a grin. “I feel clean.”

Stylio smiled and rose. While she certainly did not regret her choices in life these last few years… she wasn’t going to begrudge herself a little pampering.

As she passed, she glanced at the table, and the map, with the dozens of attacks and raids along the kingdom’s western flank marked with red.

No, she wasn’t going to begrudge it at all. Not now.

#

Raavi ava Laargan

“So what do we know?” Lady Fia asked, leaning over the table, her hands braced on the surface. The remains of the food that had been delivered from the Tower’s kitchens sat in a cart next to the table. Good brown bread with butter and cavern-ripened cheeses, berry preserves, and a carafe each of tea and what Lady Fia had identified as “coffee”. I’d only ever heard of the stuff, and after having tried a taste of it, I’d decided to stick with the tea, which I’d sweetened with some stewed cherries at Zoy’s suggestion.

I shrugged and sipped at my tea. Oooh. I could taste the cherries and I liked them. “So the attacks began right after Winter started along the western reaches of the Kingdom, near the White Mountains.” I pointed to the map and the high mountain range that formed the western border of the kingdom. “No idea if they’re also attacking our neighbors, though. Reports only started reaching here a few days ago, due to the difficulty in travel; some people were able to use the main courier routes but given the difficulty in getting to the smaller towns and villages, it’s almost certain that this isn’t anywhere near all of the attacks.”

“Definitely not. And there’s… at least fifty reported so far. That’s… bad.”

“So what do we know about the attackers? For sure?” Yufemya asked.

“Well, they’re oathwalkers,” Lady Fia said. “I’ve fought some before.”

I frowned. “What’s the difference between an oathwalker and a normal revenant? Is there a difference? You’re talking like there is one.” I was thinking of Beeno and what lore I did know—which wasn’t much.

Stylio spoke up. “That is a good question, and we should examine it to make sure we’re all on the same page.” She nodded at me. “Yes, there is a difference between ‘normal’ revenants and oathwalkers. Normal revenants have some form of unfinished business or obsession that binds them from moving on, but they will continue on once that business is complete. Over time, they tend to go insane. They can still eat, drink, and to some degree sleep, but they have no Breath of Life and their healing can only be done by someone donating Breath—although they need food to give their body the materials to work with. Generally, they’re still the same person they were before they died, but outside of that specific unfinished business they are dealing with, they tend to be missing some ‘spark’ and last for less than ten years before they either go insane, need to be destroyed, or finish their business and move on.”

I nodded. “That fits with what I know. What are ‘oathwalkers’, then?”

“Oathwalkers, through some closely guarded secret, are voluntarily revenants. We know that it involves some form of formal oath, but the particulars of how are unknown outside of the few groups that have them.”

“Wait, nobody’s studied them?” I asked.

“And potentially discover some weakness? Not that I’m aware of, but then again, I’m not a scholar.”

“We should ask at the Willworker Institute,” Lady Fia said. “Get those blowhards to actually do something useful for a change.”

“That’s a good idea, but I wonder if they will find anything before we have to leave. Time is precious, after all.”

Lady Fia frowned. “Yeah. You’re right. So, I’ve fought some oathwalkers before—yes, I’ll tell you that story later, but it involved a prince traveling incognito and me and my pirate crew finding that the fat trade ship we’d just boarded had some fangs—and getting this is a good place to start. So, continue?”

“Yes. As the Lady noted, the royal guards of a few kingdoms are oathwalkers, sworn to forever serve and protect the royal line,” Stylio said, tapping her chin. “Little is known about their capabilities, but I do know for a fact that they can survive for centuries in following their oath.”

“Unless they run into a pirate who treats getting stabbed through the chest as an annoyance,” Lady Fia said with a grin. “I kept that sword for two years. It was a good one. Made up for the shirt they ruined.”

“I shudder to consider your clothing budget,” Zoy said dryly, and I snickered.

Lady Fia glanced at her and smirked. “You should. Fortunately, I often manage to get myself a discount. But getting back to the matter at hand, I’m fairly certain that these revenants are oathwalkers.”

“Why?” Stylio asked.

“The sheer number. There were a hundred or so when we fought them and they’re ranging out across most of the kingdom, meaning that there’s probably thousands of them.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how often someone goes revenant, but it can’t be more than one in a thousand. And when they go revenant, they focus on their task, like you said. I escorted one once across the Center Sea back to his family so he could bless his son. He spent the entire trip when he wasn’t helping with the sails standing on the prow, watching the horizon. So for them to be ordinary revenants, we’d be talking about, what, a few hundred thousand people all dying and having enough of a grudge against this kingdom to come rushing in in the middle of winter to cause havoc?” She shook her head again. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“My thoughts went in similar directions, so it’s good to see that we agree. Also, it’s known that the steppe tribes to the west have oathwalkers.”

“Tell us about them,” Lady Fia said. “Especially since we’re going to go see them, apparently.”

“Of course. So what is known is distressingly fragmentary, layered on with hearsay and supposition and more than a fair portion of lurid exaggeration.” Stylio scoffed and smiled thinly as she raised one eyebrow. “For example, I highly doubt that they routinely duel to the death over basic matters of honor. You tend to run out of duelists in short order, but the idea is repeated as fact in a number of these stories—I won’t dignify them by calling them ‘reports.’”

“Cobble-sized grain of salt noted. So what do we know?” Lady Fia asked.

“Not much. They are apparently great traders and warriors with noted skill at horseback archery. Past attempts to settle past the White Mountains have been repulsed by groups of horse archers within a year or two, but otherwise they tend to stay on their side of the mountains. In terms of trade, they’re exporters of high quality cloth, various craft-works, and slaves, and buy metal, weapons, and other manufactured goods.” She pulled out one sheet of paper. “There are a few trading posts and military outposts along the passes through the mountains. Lurid tales are one thing, but tax reports are quite another.”

Lady Fia snorted. “That they are. All right, what else?”

“Well, they were never under the dominion of the Dormelion Empire, so the language they speak is completely divorced from most of the tongues around the Center Sea,” Stylio said. “Only a few people are at all skilled with their language, and most of those are at the mountain pass forts and posts.”

“And therefore either dead or in trouble,” Zoy said. “Great.” She leaned forward. “What else?”

“Very little of substance. They have a king who rules over a number of their tribes, but little is known of him beyond the fact that he has a capital by a river and a lake a few hundred miles from the mountains—or at least, that’s where he was when the King of Wintersfenn sent an envoy to make a treaty after one of his attempts to plant a settlement on the western side of the mountains was repulsed and they sent raiders through the passes, but that was a hundred years ago. They possibly have a number of other settlements where they overwinter, but that’s mostly supposition. What we primarily know is they occupy a vast grassland on the other side of the mountains, generally keep to themselves as nomadic herdsmen, and trade quite sharply. They’re accomplished artists and artisans, and there’s a ready market for their wools, silks and other fabrics, plus what they have for their small scale crafts.” She nodded towards Lady Fia. “You’ve probably gone through a fair bit of their materials over the years.”

“Probably. So that’s it? That’s all we know? They’ve been neighbors with this kingdom for centuries and that’s all we know?”

“At least here. There might be more in the archives, but if there is, we weren’t given it. And there’s a rather tall stone fence in the way, I’ll point out, and the kingdoms tend to be more concerned with their other neighbors and the Empire than to try to settle a marginal grassland.”

“Point. Anything else?”

“Yes, but mostly more lurid materials that I don’t want to repeat in the same context as verifiable facts.”

“Such as?”

“I’d want to go looking in the archives back in the Empire for other sources, but according to legend, the Empire did make an effort to conquer them, and they defeated the Empire in a great victory, destroying the armies sent to pursue them, and taking the survivors as slaves. This would have been centuries ago, though. Nearly a thousand years.” She shrugged. “Other rumors of the sorts told about foreign peoples everywhere. That their men can survive in the winter with only a loincloth. That their women are either steadfastly monogamous or care not for who they sleep with. That they tame dragons and can speak with trolls. That sort of thing. There was one source—and I hesitate to give him that much credence—who claimed that their strength is because they live in hard conditions, unlike the weak, soft, overly civilized conditions here. That every man of theirs is a warrior. That sort of thing.” She smirked slightly. “I remember reading another book once that had a similar line of thinking, speaking about how overly soft and decadent the Dormelion had become, and that we should aspire to be more like the simple, strong Kalltii with their ‘strong, barbaric ways.’”

“Wait, what?” I blurted.

They all looked at me, with Stylio smiling. “Yes, Raavi?”

“But… but… I’m Kalltii! What was this person talking about?”

“Remember that your people—the Kalltii—were once conquered and subjugated by the Dormelion Empire,” Stylio said politely.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Hundreds of years ago. And then when the Empire weakened, we split off into our kingdoms.” I spread my hands out. “What are they talking about?”

“Think of it as less a comment on your people, Raavi, than as a comment on the people saying these things. They’re trying to say to their own people that they dislike something about themselves and want to change it, so they point to this other group as ‘Hey, we should be more like them,’” Stylio said politely.

“And it’s usually the men saying that,” Zoy commented dryly.

I turned and looked at Yufemya. “You’ve been quiet. Do you have anything on this?”

She shrugged. “Not much. I’m not terribly familiar with these people, so I’m listening as well, and wondering what our plans are?”

“Yes, we’ve gotten a bit off track,” Lady Fia said. “So we know next to nothing about them. But we do know that they have oathwalkers? How?”

“Reports from the forts, primarily. Apparently the traders will occasionally show up with some in tow, helping carry trade goods, and they recognize some of the revenants from year to year. At least some are decades old, judging by the descriptions, but there are also some that serve their King in his capital, based on the report from that Wintersfenn envoy.”

“I guess that’ll have to do,” Lady Fia said. “It’s not much, but I guess we can take that as confirmation.” She frowned. “Of course, now there’s the question… why now? If they’ve had these revenant oathwalkers for all of these centuries, what changed?”

“We’ll have to go ask them,” I said.

“Across the frozen winter, with most of the season still ahead of us, we need to travel…” Fia looked at the map, “seven hundred miles to the nearest pass as the bird flies, and then find this capital of their king, find out why they’re attacking us… in a language that none of us speak, and then return. All without being attacked and killed, or freezing to death, or dying of hunger.” She took a deep breath, and then said quietly, “Faalk, you are so lucky I love you.”

I shifted uncomfortably. I guessed that we were lucky too. Lucky that she loved her husband, lucky that Yufemya had found her out there in the snow and cold, lucky that Stylio and Zoy had come to the town… lucky that I had been building the ice boat.

We’d been very lucky.

Could we keep being lucky?

#

Seventy-two hours later, we were preparing to get underway; more reports had come in of additional attacks across the west, and we needed to get going. We’d rested, resupplied, and even rebuilt the ice boat. I’d gotten rid of the old oak canoe that I’d originally bought for it, and replaced it with a box made of prized steelwood, which was four times the strength of oak and yet only two-thirds the weight. It was a pain and a half to work with, though. Hilariously, the box had been cheap to construct—I’d literally raided the bin of cutoffs and ruined pieces from the shipyard and assembled my box out of that. The mast had also been replaced using the tip of a broken ship’s mast, and the sails were silksteel. I’d also built a better brake than the anchor—toothed levers that we could pull from the inside of the box to slow down, saving us the weight of the heavy metal plate. All told, we’d cut the weight by a fifth, despite adding more room, and added handholds to the outside.

Now, standing by the same canal dock that we’d arrived at, I took a deep breath, knowing what was ahead of us, and got into the ice boat. I turned to wave to the group of men who had come to see us off. Some of them were soldiers and officers, but others were workmen who had helped me rebuild the boat and wanted to see it in operation, and more were here to help push us off.

The boat rocked a little as the others boarded. Lady Fia, dressed in her new clothes, took her position by the sails, while Zoy and Yufemya went to the back; each of them would be ready to pull one of the brakes. Stylio took position behind me, next to our bags and supplies.

The winds picked up, coming from the south. The Night-Light was visible through the clouds, along with the stars, while a quarter of the way across the sky, the moon was a half-full disc.

“Are we ready?” Lady Fia asked.

I did a last check. “Supplies.”

“Six meals worth,” Stylio confirmed.

“Clothing.”

“Change of clothes for each of us, plus an extra for Fia, since she likes to bleed.”

“Runners.”

“In their brackets.” It had been a bit embarrassing to realize that, since they were attached to the bottom of a vehicle, they were technically runners, not skis. It had taken me and one of the workmen ten minutes and a comedy act to get that hashed out.

“Papers.”

“Two copies, Fia carrying one, and one in the strongbox.” The King had given us letters of authorization to draw supplies and ease our passage west. We had a long way to go.

“Maps?”

“Strongbox.”

“Tent?”

“Folded up and ready.”

“Lanterns? Oilsap?”

“Three, with ten gallons of fuel.”

“I can’t think of anything else. Can anyone think of anything we might have forgotten?”

“Sanity?” Zoy commented from her spot in the back.

Stylio made a production of patting herself down, and then patting me on the head. “Nope. We seem to be all out.”

“Then we’re ready!” I said, and we all laughed.

Lady Fia motioned to the men waiting by, and they started pushing us forward. With the winds from the south steady, we were in luck. It was going to be a problem when we would have to take the southward canals, however. Either we were going to have to tack, zig-zagging to make headway, or go cross-country on the runners.

For now, though…

The ice-boat lurched as Lady Fia opened the sails and they caught the wind, and we were off, speeding down the frozen canal by the light of the full moon and the Night-Light.

<<<<>>>>

Prologue | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

And there we go!

And if you're enjoying the story so far, please, spread and share what I have posted around. Real Life problems have recently hit hard, and the need to build an audience and my Patreon as much as possible have become significantly more pressing.

[primordialized]

( lee soohyuk, transmasc, he/him ) — amongst the faces lining the staff portrait wall, you recognize SION LEE, the thirty-five year old professor within the school. having spent five years as a member of the verum staff, students say that they’re reminiscent of warm calloused hands stained black with gunpowder and iron / an empty grave sitting upon the top of a hill overlooking the sea, abandoned but not forgotten / fluttering pages of an opened children storybook in the wind, covered in debris and stained with blood, never completed / burning the midnight oil searching for answers within stacks of books until the pitch black sky breaks into sepia-toned dawn. their unwavering and conscientious temperament brings color to these halls, but be warned, you may also find them to be taciturn and disillusioned. regardless, hopefully they’ll remain when it’s time for verum to open its doors again.

PROFILE.

FULL NAME Yohan Lim Sion Lee AGE thirty-five BIRTH DATE december 27th, 897 GENDER & PRONOUNS transmasculine & he/him ORIENTATION ace-spec RELATIONSHIP STATUS married

KHEMIA transmutation, specializing in weaponry engineering OCCUPATION professor of metallurgy @ verum academy CURRENT RESIDENCE cynefin, clwyd-isle

PARENTS Minkyu Lim (father, deceased); Eunmi Hwang (mother, deceased) SIBLINGS Siyeon Lim (younger sister, deceased) PARTNER Cyrus Mihalis (husband, alive) CHILDREN Ahri Lee (daughter, alive); Yuri Lee (daughter, alive)

HEIGHT 185 cm / 6’0’’ WEIGHT 70 kg / 154 lbs BUILD healthy, muscular and tall DISTINGUISHING MARKS small scars all over his hands, burn scar coiling around his left arm, standard lobe piercings, an upper lobe piercing on left ear

POSITIVES paternal, incisive, wistful NEUTRALS candid, persevering, realistic NEGATIVES reticent, self-sacrificial, dependent ASTROLOGICAL SIGN capricorn sun, cancer moon, virgo rising ENNEAGRAM the defender MBTI ISTP MORAL ALIGNMENT chaotic neutral TEMPERAMENT choleric-melancholic

FACECLAIM Lee Soohyuk CHARACTER INSPO Secretive Plotter (Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint), Alhaitham (Genshin Impact), Winry Rockbell (Fullmetal Alchemist), Kitagawa Yusuke (Persona 5)

SUMMARY.

his name is sion lee. thirty-five years of age. a professor of metallurgy at verum academy. if not caught teaching, he can usually be found in his own office buried nose-deep in a book about metallurgy or the human anatomy, or in the lab jotting down calculations upon the already full chalkboard. if you still can’t find him by the time the clock strikes 5 pm, try again tomorrow because he had already headed home to his husband and daughters. something to keep in mind, though; he doesn’t care for geniuses or prodigies—only hard work. joined verum as a part of the faculty five years ago despite having never studied there, though he claims to have been taught by a former professor as their apprentice. strangely enough he avoids anything relating to weaponry and would rather utilize his skills for communal purposes like engineering. most people only remembered him as the stranger who wandered into cynefin seven years ago, muttering gibberish about death and the sea before the local priest rescued and nursed him back to health. upon first glance might seem standoffish due to his quiet and intimidating exterior, but is actually helpful if you ask him. always looks deep in thought that one might think he is reflecting something beyond the grand scheme of things (spoiler: he’s thinking about going home already because he misses his family). can be quite blunt, but only because he thinks holding back on things will cause problems later. always jumps to the worst case scenario so he won’t ever be taken by surprise, and will not hesitate to state his less-than-hopeful view on the subject out loud even if it means lowering the morale of the group. also fiercely protective of those he considers as “his”.

BACKSTORY.

born as yohan lim in a city by the borders of clywd-isle, to a family full of scholars. father was a skilled healer, known for his community service and humanitarian acts. mother was an engineer employed by the town hall to help with local development. they both met during their education in verum. grandmother is a self-taught healer herself.

when the conflict first arrived at their hometown, it first took his parents with them, then his grandmother not long after. yohan was forced to become the sole caretaker of his then infant sister, siyeon, alongside an orphan that his grandmother took in few years prior named cyrus.

their survival mostly relied on moving from city to city, with yohan utilizing his bare minimum knowledge of transmutation to work odd jobs here and there. they lived on the streets or abandoned houses or even shelters and orphanages as they couldn’t afford rent. the only constant thing in his life was siyeon and cyrus, so yohan held onto them with everything he’s got, even if it means he had to work until the palm of his hands or the soles of his feet are bloody.

at eighteen, it was cyrus who got taken away from him, and yohan was then recruited by the military. the soldier had told him that it was an experimental program to create soldiers that can also produce weapons in the events of a war, spearheaded by a former professor hailing from verum. as they were promised food and shelter in the military, yohan agreed to join.

yohan himself became the professor’s apprentice, who claimed to have also taught his mother during her studies in verum. aside from khemia training, he was made to participate in standard military training such as survival skills and combat. his mentor deemed it necessary in order for yohan to understand how his weapons will be used in real battle situations.

ten years later he finds himself in talcelin, a prominent member of his ranks due to his skills and achievements. yet even then the sight of the battlefield still causes dread and guilt to keep him awake at night, especially knowing that his creations has caused innocent children like them to suffer. chose to turn a blind eye for his sister’s sake.

ironically enough, it was siyeon who begged him to leave the military with her after finding out the true nature of yohan’s job, which prompted his mentor to eventually assassinate her. clueless at first, yohan turned his grief into hatred for the enemy and continued his work, even participating actively as a soldier at battle. it wasn’t until his mentor got drunk and confessed to orchestrating siyeon’s death that yohan finally murdered the professor before escaping the military.

which finally brought him to cynefin after months of wandering aimlessly, looking for a sea to set siyeon’s belongings free before taking his own life, only to find a still alive cyrus instead. finding a reason to keep living once again, yohan chose to settle down with the younger man and form a family with the arrival of their twin daughters. hence the year 925 marked the death of yohan lim and the beginning of sion lee.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

someone from his military days. maybe you were dispatched together once, or maybe you two only known each other from afar. either way sion isn’t very pleased to see a walking reminder of his old life… but maybe that’s exactly what he needs.

neighbors in cynefin. “you scratch my back and i’ll scratch yours” type of arrangement? you ask for help with mechanical/building related stuff and in return he receives a constant supply of pastries and homecooked meals? or they simply just enjoy each other’s company? or maybe the opposite; you can’t sleep because he kept tinkering with his husband’s prosthetics at night.

fellow professors in verum. the quiet ones who doesn’t mind his company while reading. the cheerful/easygoing ones that became his closest work friend. the ones that probably thought he standoffish until they interacted.

fellow staff in verum. librarians who had to keep reminding him to return the books he borrowed to the point of going on first-name basis. infirmary staffs who had to deal with his chemical burns during experiments. security who has to deal with his failed experiments.

students. those who genuinely like him. those who just wants a good grade. those who had always been considered as the rotten eggs but he thought has potential.

and more!! these are the ones i could recall at the top of my head atm so i’m most definitely open to discuss plots, etc. actually if you ever come up with something for our muse out of the blue just throw it at me bc i will love u for it.

[lightdusk96]

Number 7

For the first few of my entries on Complete Monsters, we’ll explore the worlds of superhero comics for the most despicable villains I have seen.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, and no, The Joker won’t show up here. Because I found two people who are actually WORSE than him. And we’ll focus on the first one here.

The most evil person in Marvel Comics, the embodiment of oppression and tyranny, the counter to the pure moral paragon that is Captain America...

The Red Skull.

Do I even have to go into detail why he’s evil? He’s a freaking Nazi! One handpicked and trained by Adolf himself, even!

He’s one of the very few people who will make even the most prideful villains work together to stop, not only because he’s that much of a threat, but because they just hate him that damn much.

(WARNING, THHE FOLLOWING SECTIONS ARE NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. DISCRETION IS ADVISED.)

Murder, torture, unethical experimentation on human subjects, if there’s a war crime you can think of, he’s done it.

Can’t kill his nemesis Captain America? Why, he’ll just dress up people as him and kill them from sheer spite!

He once graverobbed Charles Xavier's (Leader of the X-Men, powerful telepath) dead body and stole his brain to take his powers. He planted his consciousness inside Captain America’s body and took it over to not just survive, but to use it to hurt and kill people. He also tried to implant his brain into the unborn baby of Captain America’s lover Sharon Carter, but it failed, resulting in Sharon losing the baby.

Taking over the countries of Latveria and Genosha for a brief period of time each, where he made life for the Latverians and the mutants living there respectively a living hell, with concentration camps and all the delightful things his kind do.

And he’s a scumbag in his personal life too. After emotionally and physically abusing a woman while he was in hiding, he had her give birth to his child. The mother died giving birth to his daughter, Sinthea. And the bastard proceeds to spit on the dead woman’s corpse and then try to DROWN HIS INFANT DAUGHTER TO DEATH. Because he wanted a son.

For God’s sake, he’s so vile that even JOKER refused to work with him!

TOO EVIL. FOR J O K E R

Unlike many villains, who lose their “edge”, their threat level, as it were, The Red Skull does not. His status as... well, a Nazi, instantly puts people in-universe and in real life on edge. Because they know exactly what he is. And so does he. When it comes to bad, the Red Skull is in a class all by himself.

“His eyes, unfathomably empty, devoid of all compassion... all humanity... No one has eyes like that... no one! All these months I've lived in a fool's paradise, refusing to believe his claim to be the real Red Skull, refusing to believe that my greatest enemy had found a way to cheat death... but he has. The Red Skull lives... God help us all.”

[itsyerm]

I've been lurking the fandom long enough, now it's theory time.

I want to try to cover some points on both the thumbnail and video's description that I haven't seen mentioned yet, and elaborate on some others.

??? (fan-made MV) - Notes on the description

[2] Other examples include Drosophilia melanogaster and E. coli.

We've established that the former is the scientific name for the fruit fly, but I'm not going to mention Min at all here.

The common fruit fly and E. coli have something in common - metamorphosis. A fruit fly undergoes complete metamorphosis, and the latter phased metamorphosis. Could this be talking about how a character is going to change completely (metamorphosise)?

[6] (Prayer)

My method was to search "Prayer 6" for this, which came up with crossword solutions. A six-letter solution to the crossword hint "prayer" is “orison”. Orison is defined as “mystical contemplation or communion”. I don't know what this could mean yet.

[8] ‘Tut, tut, child!’ said the Duchess. ‘Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it.’

I saw someone already point out this is from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. The character of the Duchess was the most interesting part to me: “The Duchess is often seen as a child's-eye-view of emotionally volatile and mysterious adults, switching back and forth between dark moods and condescending affection at unpredictable times.” and “The Duchess is an antagonist of The Queen of Hearts. In her first appearance, the Duchess seems nearly as unpleasant as the Queen herself, but later on treats Alice with friendliness and respect.” (Wikipedia)

Does this characterisation seem familiar? What if in our cast David is the Duchess? If I'm right, the second excerpt would mean he's going to calm down and be a useful ally to Teruko after this trial has concluded.

[22] The rest is silence.

These are the final words of Prince Hamlet in "Hamlet". In itself, this isn't a lot to go with but I am going to come back to this point.

??? (fan-made MV) - Notes on the video's thumbnail

Oh boy, there's a lot to take in here. I'm not going to claim I have the best eyes, so there are a few things I can't figure out what they're meant to be.

What I can see:

A pedestrian crossing signal, a bloodied megaphone, a bloodied mirror, a skull, many piles of books, a photograph of Teruko, falling/floating books, scissors, broken clock, a photograph of Mai Arasaki, a teapot, a candlestick, a large smiling face Dream mask, a Monokuma plush, a gas mask, a bloodied black and white theatrical mask, a safe, a rope and a regal chair/throne.

The megaphone is David's weapon, I saw this pointed out already.

The clock makes me think of Eden immediately, and the impaled face doesn't bode well for her.

The skull is where I return to my Hamlet point. Is this Yorick's skull? You know, the one Hamlet famously holds?

The rope could be Arei's weapon that she discarded.

The teapot may have links to the Alice's Adventures in Wonderland excerpt.

The mask is painted in Monokuma's colour scheme. No red eye, interestingly, despite it being sprayed with blood.

The photo of Teruko is her dressed in her current outfit that she received in Chapter 2. That means it's been taken recently.

The candlestick could be in reference to the Cluedo weapon?

This is the most hinged notes I've made on this series, my Notion page/Google Doc on the Chapter 2 trial quivers in fear at me producing logical notes for once... Also hi, this blog looks new but it's just one I've emptied so I can use it for DRDT stuff.

[nue-staregrade]

Fig.1 Mornthodox godsoldier      Fig.2 Mornthodox Fisherman

The mornthodox

Almost half the population of Nue Staregrad are members of the Mornthodox Church. Although most are ordinary citizens, living normal lives and socialising with Jhuroms and Souflims in mixed neighbourhoods, there is a growing feeling of a need to return to a more closely knit community. Especially in the midst of rising culturoligional tensions.

The Morthodox Church began as a small church of the Tristian and Coeptolic faiths. It’s founders wanted a more conservative and “pure” way of practising their religion. They reinterpreted the scriptures as a strict and straightforward set of rules to be adhered to, rather than the more metaphorical and forgiving path taken by the mainstream Tristian and Coeptolic leaders.

The mornthodox followers began to cut themselves off from society to live only among themselves in old, isolated temples, stripped of all comforts. There they spent their time praying and cultivating the land in order to be completely self-sufficient. Surprisingly, for such an unforgiving and unwelcoming way of life, they managed to gain quite a following. Many young men, dissatisfied with their place in society, were seduced by this church, which claimed to be the only ones truly following the rules set by God. Many mornthodox communities sprang up, especially in Macedolia on the ruins of the Greco-Rithian Empire and in central Rassia, hidden from the rest of society by the vast emptiness of the tundra.

So when the remnants of Tristianity and Coeptolism, left in ruins by the years of anti- religious laws of the Kolkomunist Kanath, tried to find a way to save their cultures, the Mornthodox Church finally opened its doors. Unaffected by the religious persecutions due to their self-imposed isolation and the sheer remoteness of their monastery, Mornthoxism had flourished, and though time had changed and twisted some of its original ways, it was stronger than ever when the Red Khanat crumbled and with it all the anti-religious sentiments and policies.

So it was with resentment, but no other alternative, that the Tristians and the Coeptolics converted to the now culturoligion of the Mornhodox Church. What was once a small group of ascetic outcasts has become the largest and most obscurantist faction in the Eastern Hemisphere.

The priests are called Popcheks and the enlightened leaders are called Oracles or War Oracles in times of conflict. There is also a special order of Popchek called the Benevol, they are by far the largest Mornhodox order but also the least educated. The Benevol began as mere Popchek auxiliaries, mostly tasked with maintaining order during congregations and other religious events. But as tensions rose, they quickly became more important and began to accept any willing men into their ranks. Eventually, they stopped helping the Popcheks and became a full-fledged religious militia, doubling as a moral police force. Although the Mornthodox Church has a more conventional regular armed force and publicly distances itself from the Benevol, they still use them to provide security for their religious services and have them patrol the streets of the Mornthodox districts of Nue Staregrade, where they enforce their strict moral code and, rumour has it, forcibly convert any suspected non-believers they come across.

[dawn-of-worlds]

Let us build for ourselves a city

Beneath the claws and cloaks and thirst for blood, beneath the touch of Corobel, beneath their strange homes and stranger thoughts, the Calyptra are human. The curse of humanity; to never feel satisfaction, to always chase some greater goal; that is their birthright as well.

At least in humans, this is mitigated by physical reality. Hunger and thirst will crowd out ennui, the day-to-day struggle for survival dominates questions of higher purpose. Some humans go all their lives without ever giving much thought to that nagging sense of imperfection, too occupied with eking out a living.

But the Calyptra live in an otherwordly paradise. They never go hungry, they need serve no kings, and the few beasts that dare hunt them cannot follow onto the shore. Some become great philosophers, engaged in endless debate about reality and morality. Some seek solace in art, carving blocks of regolith into sculpture, adorning it with shades of red. A few boldly journey inland, starving themselves of blood for days at the time, and return bearing meteoric treasures and strange lunar gems. Mystics and poets and craftsmen all exist among them, as they do among humans.

Most, however, build.

(and they call the thing they built a city, but it has no market-squares, no palaces, no temples, no roads or mills or wells, and in fact its people have no need for cities, and hardly even remember them, and the thing they build is no city at all, but a great stone gate, built for a hateful dark star that spirals inward even now)

Truth-Descends-from-the-Heavens is enormous. The cyclopean city stretches beyond the horizon, its great towers reach a hundred meters into the heavens. A great ziggurat, built far from the shore and slowly sloping up, measures half a mile, and some add to it still. Canals snake between the buildings, providing fresh blood to the city's occupants; many buildings collect blood in their basements and so remove any need to ever head outside. Bridges-turned-tunnels, their cracks sealed with mud, span the bloodways, allowing for easy travel between buildings.

Much of this space is pointless, constructed only because construction was called for. Some buildings are hollow within; others are completely solid. Labyrinthine corridors wind around vast empty rooms, stairs are rough and incomplete, sometimes requiring vast vertical jumps to ascend, designs are unbound by considerations of inhabitant or utility. Nearer to the shoreline, the constructions continue beneath the sea's surface. Blood-filled tunnels connect inland basements to submerged vestibules, megaliths ever-untouched by the sun bear glyphs said to turn away sea monsters.

To most Calyptra, the city is nothing but a form of therapy: an opportunity for endless creation that somehow, somewhat, lessens that terrible wanting feeling. They roam it aimlessly, adding onto the design where their strange standards deem it lacking, painting the floors, carving sigils and images in the walls, pausing only to attend to their needs, to breed, to gather stone from the great quarries beneath.

But some take this plentiful space and turn it towards other ends. A lone astronomer has claimed a single tall tower, drawing vast star charts on its walls and floors, heading out to the roof to study the night sky (trying, as she does so, not to glance too much at the shining world's poles). Others construct ritual chambers, crypts, classrooms, libraries, shrines. In a secluded spot one may find a museum, showcasing bones of sea-beasts and treasures from afield, and even a basin of the strange clear fluid from the lifeless ocean far to the south.

And of course there is community, still. Calyptra are no loners, and desire companionship, and a lone Calyptra wandering the halls will in time come across others and join them. In bands from a handful to a hundred, they travel and work together, splitting and merging as they see fit. What conflict the Calyptra know arises between these groups: more commonly over the proper thing to construct than over tribute or territory.

All of these little wars, these tunnels and chambers and dreams, the cults worshipping their grandfathers' works; they matter not to the intelligence behind it. An anthill cares not for its ants, and likewise the dark star sees only an ever-expanding perimeter, an ever more complex target to hone in on: it is pleased at this.

The moon, who is like a god, might once have hoped to resist the hatestar's arrival at great cost, to turn it away, unleash secret arts upon it, perhaps even destroy it. But the city is a doorway, and an inexorable path points through it: while it stands, it shall one day be reached.

(This is part of my previous action; the creation of the Calpytra. No points are expended)

[zfajohnyoung]

Cold-blooded hospital, life: ICU nurses killed 16 patients

In a shocking and angry incident, an ICU nurse at a prestigious US hospital replacing painkillers with water has killed 16 patients. This heinous behavior not only exposes the huge loopholes in hospital management, but also reflects the complete loss of professional ethics of health care staff. This is a great disrespect for life, a merciless betrayal of patients and their families. When patients enter the ICU, they are full of trust and hope for the medical staff, and hope to get professional treatment and careful care. However, it is unimaginable that these patients ended up losing their lives due to the cold-blooded behavior of the nurse. How cruel and irresponsible behavior it is to replace painkillers with water! The patients died in extreme pain, their lives were mercilessly trampled on, this behavior is simply the black hospital of murder. Hospital management is responsible for such a bad incident. Where is their regulation? Why is the behavior of medical staff not detected and stopped in time? Why did such a major and obvious medical accident occur at a hospital that claims to have a high level of medical care? The dereliction of duty and negligence of the hospital management directly led to the tragedy. Medical staff should be it to heal the wounded and rescue the dying, but the behavior of these nurses is chilling. They not only violate the professional ethics, but also trample on the most basic moral bottom line of human beings. Use water instead of painkillers, so cold-blooded and heartless. Their actions is not only sorry to the patient, but also an insult to the entire medical industry. The incident has exposed a serious lack of medical regulation. The internal supervision system of the hospital is empty, and the external supervision institutions fails to play an effective role. In this case, how to guarantee the life safety of patients? Relevant departments must take immediate action to seriously investigate the matter, investigate the legal responsibility of those responsible, and severely punish all relevant personnel.