#my parents still remember what it was to live under a dictatorship here (a right wing one)

[phereinnike]

I know this is the performative activism website but it’s actually horrible to see a bunch of north americans clapping for a murderous dictator just because he SAYS he is leftist. Dictators don’t deal in left or right. Both his hands are covered in blood.

Let’s listen to the people of Venezuela, MILLIONS who had to go into exile, millions who saw their families die of hunger or lack of medical resources when they live in one of the richest countries in the world in natural resources, about how life under a dictatorial regime actually is and stop projecting our local political realities over the enormous suffering of people who are asking for your help.

[mrevaunit42]

I'm using this one alot. Okay us trapped in trunk. One party wants to put us in the backseat and while they won't let us drive, does care enough about our opinions to fucking listen or compromise. The other wants to kill everyone whose not an old white dude, has publicly announced their plan deport everyone born here if their parents came from another country, has their take over government and install a dictatorship public knowledge (even has a fucking website) oh and has already stated they're gonna give Israel more weapons to kill people faster. And honestly did everyone forget all the BATSHIT terrible things agent orange did while in office and now he has even more of his crazy ass followers than regular Republicans in the house.

I hate that Biden keeps fucking doubling down but you know what? despite being handicapped and the house being held hostage, the dems got shit done: insulin is dirt cheap! DO YOU KNOW HOW BIG OF A DEAL THAT IS!? I'm a fairly optimistic guy but I legit never thought I'd see affordable insulin in my lifetime. My uncle went from paying 900 dollars for a month's supplies to paying 50. 50 bucks to live! And they were soooo close to passing the college debt forgiveness. Among other things.

Look we can pressure the dems to get Israel to stop and still vote for them. They don't gotta know we're gonna still vote for them but you gotta stop acting like not voting is some moral high ground. It's not it's a childish irresponsibility. Unless you are a white dude your right to vote was paid for blood, sweat, tears and actual lives. Countless sacrifices given to the pursuit of freedom and equality. FOR EVERYBODY. And if you wanna keep it, fucking vote and vote correctly cuz the Republicans will absolutely try to take it from you and you want proof? Look at all the fucking bullshit the gerrymandering, the stricter voting regulations, the gutted funding, the redlining, the obscene hoops they're trying to make you go through in red states. You know the house (Republican controlled remember? )wants charge the student protesting Israel with some terrorist charges and why? Cuz anyone with a federal conviction aren't allowed to vote in majority of states and oh hey there's a presidential election coming up. What a fucking coincidence.

We all want that super clean bus that'll take us to our bright sunny future but guess what? That bus doesnt exist yet and if you want it to exist at all you're gonna grow up, sit in this dirty, unclean bus with me and do your duty to your fellow citizens. Cuz if you don't and the next couple of buses are dirtier and dirtier and eventually don't stop to pick us up anymore, don't bother crying. You were warned and we all are going to pay the price. There's nothing you can ever do that will convince the Republican party you should be the exception to their hatred, greed and cruelty cuz the moment you fail or aren't useful they're gonna chuck you under the bus. And you want proof? Trump's being doing it since day one. I wonder how old Rudy is doing.

By existing as a citizen in and paying taxes to the imperial core, we automatically hold complicity in imperialist oppression because we are literally footing the bill for it. That is just the basic nature of being born to privilege in systems of oppression in general. We can be disadvantaged and marginalized in every single other consideration and we still have to understand and cope with this, and ensure we leverage it as effectively as possible.

Voting abstinence/sabotage does not absolve us of our responsibility to do everything in our power to lessen harm, but it DOES show that when our personal morals aren't satisfied, we retreat into (imperialist, this time) privilege to 'wash our hands' of the situation and declare it's not our fault and it's not our problem.

[chaoticstabby]

You know what, fuck it, I'm sad and I'm angry and I want to scream at the world so here goes.

We had a chance. We had the biggest chance. To create lasting change, to exorcise the ghost of one of the worst periods of our history. We had a chance to move forward, finally, and we... didn't. The fear won out. The self-righteousness of the right, the fucking "red scare" yet again, because if a Constitution guarantees rights for people that have been ignored and left out and stepped over for literal centuries it's communism, right?

Almost fifty years ago my country was torn apart because a bunch of gringos decided we were a threat, because they saw us as their playground, as their property, because how dare you bring communism into their backyard? And for seventeen years it was the common people of Chile who suffered from it. Who disappeared, who were tortured, and killed. And they slapped that fucking Constitution to make their shit stick, they wrote it in our blood and said "you'll never be free of us".

Three years ago we said "fuck that". We took to the streets, we screamed and raged because thirty years is too much, it's too long, and we've suffered enough under a system that is fundamentally unjust. That favors the rich and leaves the rest of us out to rot. To die waiting for a doctor's appointment. To be crippled by debt for the rest of our lives because we decided we wanted to study. We fought, for fuck's sake, we fought, for months and years, because we deserve better than this shit. And we got the military thrown on us, and the cops, we lived under curfew, people were wrongfully arrested, the lost their eyes, they were tortured and killed, and we kept going because at least we were seeing change, right? We were going to vote on whether or not to have a new constitution, and then we voted yes and we kept going because this was a chance, this was unprecedented, this was... this was our moment. And for what? For fear to win, again? We had the opportunity for lasting change and we're just going to let it pass like that? Because, no matter what they may say right now, the reality is that the right is gonna fight back with everything it's got to make sure we don't get a new constitution. They're gonna pull out every single fucking argument to say that that was it, it's over now, no do-overs.

The new proposal wasn't perfect. I'll be the first to admit it, but for fuck's sake, at least if we'd voted it in we could've made changes, we could've perfected it, and it would've been so much easier than with the current one. But we didn't. And now we get to live with the consequences.

It shouldn't be over, I know that, and I still want to fight for a new constitution, for change, but for fuck's sake I'm so tired. I'm sad. I look at my parents, and how they lived all of those horrors in their youth and I can't help but feel like this country failed them, them and everyone who still remembers what the dictatorship was like, who still lives with the scars. I look at my siblings, at myself, and I wonder how we're supposed to have hope for a better future if this is our present. There's so many people in this country who were just slapped in the face and told that nothing is ever gonna change and we're fools for thinking otherwise.

Fuck, I don't know where we go from here. It still feels like a bad dream I'm waiting to wake up from. And this'll probably end up lost in the sea of the internet, with no one to know or care, but it had to be said. Fuck, we deserved better. We deserve better.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Ash.”

A couple people were showing some interest in other Alien characters aboard the ship, and I thought I would give you all some insight into that. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you all have a great day. 

“You have ruined this family.”

“What have you done!” 

“The war is the only thing left for you now, so make yourself useful and die.”

-

Etium slowly lifted his head from the computer where he sat staring blankly at the accounting spreadsheet on the screen. Beside him, the other two Tesraki’s chairs were empty. He sighed, and slowly turned back to the accounting. They had likely finished their half of the books hours ago, leaving him to sit in the darkness alone with his own strange thoughts. His four fingered hands clicked at the keys of the human made keyboard,

He was good at typing, pretty fast for someone who was missing two requisite fingers, but he was nothing in comparison to the others.

He was nothing in comparison to most Tesraki.

Etium was slow when it came to doing the books, repeatedly checking every line and ever string of numbers for any possible mistake that could have been made. The process took him hours longer than it should have, but finally he stood, pushing back his chair and hopping down to the floor. The human ship whirred softly in the distance. It was a comforting sound, but he had always found some measure of comfort in humanity.

Etium had been hit the hardest by the huminization phenomenon. It didn’t surprise him all that much. He had fought side by side with humans since the Drev war, and the changes in him had taken a long time to develop. They ran deep now through his body as sure as his blood. WIth skills honed in human war, and being one of few survivors, he was quick to react to sounds, followed movement more easily, and could read body language better than almost any other alien he knew.

Dr Krill wasn’t even as good as he considered himself.

That’s what war did to a person.

He reached up to his torn ear and shivered at the smell of smoke that seemed to waft up from his fur. He could never get the smell of ash out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

Etium knew there was something wrong with him, but he kept that to himself. The others tended to avoid him, and that was alright. He was friends with the Finnari, and while they were a bit sensitive, he supposed that was ok. He didn’t need anyone asking questions about what he was doing and why he was there.

He ducked through one of the maintenance corridors, and into the hallway behind the rec room.

He could hear humans and Drev talking and laughing on the other side, but when he passed through the next door, he found the hall opened into a large-ish storage room that was lined in boxes and crates. Inside was what remained of the Omen crew. Tesraki, Finnari, Celzex and Yeb. They had a little place here for those aliens who found it difficult to constantly interact with humans.

Yeb was a bit of a special case as she seemed to hop between both without much trouble. She lounged on one of the crates, her tail swishing back and forth against the box below her, bright green fur along her back, waving slightly in the air currents.

Etium leaned against the wall making no noise, and interacting with no one.

He wouldn’t have minded hanging out with humans, and drev, but….. Every time he did he just couldn’t shake the smell of smoke.

Why was he here?

Because he had seen a human boldly risk his life for two wounded alien soldiers.

Etium remembered the red sky above and the ash covered ground beneath. He remembered the wounded Rundi soldier at his side as the creature stalked towards them from the darkness. He remembered the flash of blue, and then an animal howl as the human came charging from nowhere.

When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the blood curdling scream of pain the human had given off as his limbs were ripped from his body.

He shook himself trying to shake the smoke away.

“Clan is more important than anything else.”

Etium lifted his head, arms still crossed over his chest.

“Then mean nothing.” Yeb was saying, “My parents abandoned me in an ice cave when I was just a cub.”

“Not our fault your species is defective.” Lord Avex was saying.

The burg lifted his hands in an attempt to keep the piece, technicolor wings flickering behind him, “Not now, all of you we must remember that as different species we all have different beliefs and needs. He pressed his hands together. The Burg do find clan very important, but it was for our survival for the longest time. There are plenty of other species that don’t need such things, like the Vrul or the Gibb for example, who are solitary creatures.”

The group of three finnari huddled close together and nodded.

They wouldn’t be likely to argue, they hated conflict and tried to keep the peace as much as it was possible.

He glanced over to the side surprised to find Waffles, the dog, lying with her head on her paws, around her neck, the snake creature Jeffery hung like a boa scarf.

He supposed she had any right to be here like the rest of them, she wasn’t human and neither was the snake. Though neither of them were classified as sentient and didn’t have the intelligence to speak. Waffles licked at her paws and Jeffery lifted his head turning to look at the speakers as if he was listening intently.

“This is not about biology, this is about the facts. There is strength in numbers, and numbers can win out over force anyday. Humans are the best example of this and you all know it. They managed to survive on a death world by making packs.”

Lord Avex did have a point, but lord Avex was also known for being an egotistical asshole.

That was sort of the defining feature of Celzex.

The furry little creatures were very proud, and very loyal, so they were both a blessing and an absolute pain to have on your side.

Most of the time they just liked causing problems for the sake of causing problems.

“There is nothing wrong with a solitary existence. My species has been living as single occupants inside a distanced society for a very long time.”

Lord Avex snorted, “Might I also point out that you society is a fascist Authoritarian dictatorship recovering from a pandemic crisis and refuses to join the GA to control their own citizens?”

The hair on the back of her body stood up, “Oh like your planet is any better. Roving warring clans who eat their own children.”

“Please, Peace.” THe burg was saying.

“You have no place in this. The burg have lived under a corrupted monarchy for ages.”

Etium sighed and closed his eyes.

Apparently, he had sighed much louder than he intended, and when he opened his eyes the entire room was looking at him,

“You got something to say.” Avex growled, “Anything to offer from a corporate capitalist hellscape.”

Etium pushed himself off from the wall, “No, I have nothing to say.”

Avex bristled, and when he did he got even fluffier, “I don’t think we are done here. I want to hear what you have to say.”

Etium sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of this one, “I think that all of our societies suck, they just all do it equally.”

The room bristled, but he kept going. He had stuck his foot in it and now he was going to have to deal. He looked at yeb and Avex, “Both of you are true about the other, same with the burg sorry to say.” He nodded over at the winged creature, “But think about it, all of us suck in some way or another,. My species destroyed our own natural habitats in the name of progress, He looked at the Finnari, No cohesive leadership, and a societal wide inability to make decisions. The Vrul live under a corrupted communist system and the Rundi are all politicians, so guess where that leads us. The Drev are a fractured group of clans bent on killing each other for no other reason than the fact that it is honorable. And don’t even get me started on humans, they are the worst of us all, since they can do everything we can and more.”

He sort of expected the uproar that followed, but kept his head low to avoid having to deal with it. He brushed a hand through his fur, attempting, mostly to brush the ash from it, and despite being able to feel it with his fingertips, he saw none break loose.

The room grew louder and louder until a sharp bark broke the silence.

The room went very quiet very suddenly.

He turned to see waffles had risen up into a sitting position, her hackles raised.

She growled low in her throat , and the entire room calmed down very quickly after that, Jeffery opened his mouth and turned his head like a periscope around the room.

Waffles slid back onto the floor and rested her chin on her paws ears sticking straight up as she sighed.

The room was only slowly able to return to its former discussion, though everyone remained mostly quiet.

Etium slumped back against the wall. He could see the other Tesraki across the room staring at him. He tried to ignore them for the most part, he didn’t really fit in with them to any sort of degree. He didn’t blame them.

He wasn’t particularly good with finances.

He didn’t have to be though, most humans were pretty poort at it too, so any ability whatsoever was considered good. That was another reason why he was here. If he was slow and ok at handling money, then he was going to be fine. If he tried to work anywhere else as a Tesraki….

He'd be fired

Or disowned…

Etium quietly slipped from the room, out and down the hallway. He knew where he was going, and followed his own memory down through the hallways until he came to a door. He knocked once.

“Come in.”

The door slid open and he stepped into a room lit by soft yellow light. Dr Adric was sitting at his desk, skin glowing a pale yellow in the dim lighting. He looked up, and when he smiled his teeth flashed white.

“Etium, it is good to see you. I didn’t expect you till our session tomorrow.”

Etium wandered into the room glancing down at the diagrams on the wall, and the large books on the shelves beside the desk. “Do you want me to leave.”

“No, of course not, take a seat.”

He did and stared up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Etium was quiet for a while, but finally opened his mouth to speak, “I can still smell the ash sometimes, Feel it in my fur when I go to bed. It…. doesn't really bother me most of the time, and I know it’s not real, but it certainly feels that way.”

Dr Adtric leaned on his desk and nodded, “Did you know somatic hallucinations are extremely common In Tesraki.”

He rubbed his fur, “Really?”

“Yes, at least one in twenty report small things. Feelings of items brushing over their fur even when nothing is there. If it starts to bother you, come to me and we will look into helping it. Otherwise just remember the exercises I taught you.”

He shifted in his seat and absently looked at the wall, “So if Somatic hallucinations are common in Tesraki….. Than what about everyone else?”

Dr Adric smiled at him. His expression, both charming and calming at the same time. He had an eir about him that just seemed to make things slow down and relax. It was a nice feeling to have.

“Well both Vrul and Gibb are prone to psychosis with obsessive and grandiosity characteristics. Most Vrul I know could be classified as having some sort of anxiety. Rundi are commonly seen with OCD. Celzex presents with characteristics of Antisocial personality disorder.  Finnari can commonly be seen with dependent personality disorders. Both the Drevb and the Starborn, have a high rate of narcissism. In the case of the starborn, they have a 100% rate at this time…. Though to be fair we only have one starborn”

Etium couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Humans have all of those things I guess, since you have a name for all of them.”

“Yes. Though, I would say that I work most closely with Post Traumatic Stress.”

“Like what I have?”

“Similarly yes, though yours presents differently.”

“That’s what the Admiral’s dog is for? He said she was a PTSD dog.”

“That would be correct.”

Etium leaned back in his seat and stared out the window behind Adric. The man said he presented with listlessness, difficulty concentrating, and emotional detachment. He didn’t have flashbacks or stress associated, which is why he couldn't be entirely diagnosed, bu7t the two of them were pretty sure whatever he had was similar. They had thought about depression on one or two occasions, but he didn’t have trouble getting out of bed, or doing things that he enjoyed. He just got listless and distracted a lot.

Adric thought it might be an entirely different issue from what humans could get, but as of yet, there wasn’t enough research to determine that. They were working on it in their own right now, and he had been feeling a little more present, but he still wasn’t really there yet.

He hoped that soon he would be out of the rut he was stuck in.,

“Have you managed to tell the Admiral, like we had been talking about.”

Etium picked at the fur on his arm, “He seems…. Too busy to talk to me and I…. well I don’t know what it would accomplish.”

“I think it would be good for you to talk to someone who experienced the war.”

Etium sighed, “I didn’t really do much in the war. I sat there and just… was scared. The humans did everything.”

“I think you might find there are humans that feel the same way you do. I encourage you to talk to him. Knowing the man myself, I have no doubt that he will be accepting  of your story.” He held up his hands, “I don’t want to push you, but I do encourage you to let him know.”

I think it would be good for both of you

[houndsharkk]

alright alright, do yall want my dreamSMP headcanons?? keep in mind that i only watch a few of them

/dsmp

Possible TW's: trauma, manipulation, death, suicide, overdose; the basic dreamSMP stuff, unfortunately.

ok here we go:

Dream - a separate entity from DreamXD, though they are related; perhaps XD is from another universe? anyways, Dream was possessed by a 'Dreamon' at a young age, making him think that things like manipulation are ok simply because he didn't know any better. he says he's trying to get better, but is he? no. this is just another trick to make Tommy think he can change. Jacob Sheep horns are slowly growing (sheep-hybrid thanks to his mother, Cpt. Puffy). Him becoming family with George and Sapnap made him realize that he can make his own family, an idea which he twisted and turned into manipulation. In his words, paraphrased, he "did a bad thing but for good reasons" which were "bringing the server together"; he wanted to be a family with him in control, a dictatorship, a hivemind.

Drista - Dream's sister, more related to XD than Dream is. somewhat OP but has morals unlike her brother.

George - Mooshroom hybrid!! Has a little mushroom crown and cape because he thinks of himself as royalty (he isn't) - has little horns and a little tail. Misses Dream the most out of the Dream Team, but somewhat afraid of him. Wants 'the old dream' back, which was partly a persona and partly Dream learning about found family. He tries not to get involved with politics or the server after the events of the first wars, because he's scared. Sleeps through things as an excuse. Awesamdude's kid - doesn't tell anyone.

Sapnap - Dragon hybrid - has small horns and a tail, with burn marks at the base of them. His hands and feet are clawed and burnt. He also wants their Dream back, but understands that he was always corrupt and has mostly gotten over it. Wants to help with the Egg but, like George, doesn't like getting involved with big things on the server. He's ashamed of his dragon heritage, covering up his head burns with a headband and covering his horns with his hair; he hides his tail under a cape and wears gloves as well. Sapnap has unnaturally orange eyes, which he would change with contacts, if they didn't melt anytime he tried. Battle-scarred and hungry to start fights and sever friendships out of boredom. Badboyhalo's child.

Callahan - Cervitaur (deer-centaur). Distantly related to Puffy, Captain Sparklez, and Schlatt. I will admit, I have never watched him, and I don't think he's ever been too involved in server politics? Just a simple deer man trying to live his life.

Awesamdude - Creeper centaur thing (he and Callahan are... cousins? i guess?). Incredibly insecure about his morality and the fact that George doesn't talk to him much. Thinks he's a bad person. He becomes a father figure to Tommy through his Sam Nook persona - slowly gaining his confidence back through his real estate and his (illegal) adoption of the gremlin. Badass. Runs the prison by himself because he feels the need to prove himself, and he doesn't know anyone that would be up to the job.

Alyssa - inactive :[ probably human

Ponk - Human!! One of the few humans on this server, actually! He quite likes building and terraforming; he makes very aesthetic builds (see; war campsite). He and Sam are close friends. Ponk is also a parental figure to Tommy, but is closer to the fun uncle. The three of them steal together and then Ponk and Sam cover for Tommy because who could accuse them of lying?? Hesitant to join in with politics.

BadBoyHalo - Demon. Very, very tall demon. Large. Pretty wholesome. I honestly don't know what else to say about him lmao I haven't been paying attention to the Egg much. He and Skeppy are a thing though. Wishes his son would stop killing people's pets to start wars.

TommyInnit - He doesn't know what kind of hybrid he his, but he isn't human. His eyes change color with mood, going from a light grey to an extremely vibrant cobalt blue. He believes he may be part raccoon, or part bird(?) on Philza's side. Phil wasn't around during his childhood; Tommy only knew him as the hero from the strories that his older brother Wilbur told him. Philza killing Villain!Bur cemented his heroship, which is why Tommy sees him as a father figure. Wilbur never told him that he (Phil) was their father. Tommy is actually part siren, but his gills and fins haven't appeared yet. His PTSD is triggered by Dream, blackstone, tnt, people asking for his armor, and a few other things. An extremely traumatized kid. Best friends with Tubbo.

Tubbo - Sheep hybrid. His horns started coming in during Schlatt's presidentship, making him think he was a goat and following in his footsteps. In reality, he's Captain Sparklez's son; related to Schlatt yes, but not at all like him. He likes headbutting the people he loves, including his best friend Tommy. Wholesome, but still a chaotic being of destruction. He and Ranboo are also very good friends!

Fundy - Fox shifter; unlike most of the other hybrids on this server (other than Techno), he can turn into an anthro fox. Canonically transgender! Son to WilburSoot and Sally the Salmon (another shifter). Wilbur was an amazing father while Fundy was small, but started neglecting him during the Presidency, when he really needed a father. The two grew apart further during Pogtopia, and Fundy still tries to refuse his father's attempts at redemption. Despite this, Fundy and Ghostbur, even though they've had arguments, have a better relationship. Fundy is even one of the people who are attempting to bring back Wilbur. He sees Phil as a somewhat father figure despite him trying to be bitter towards him. Very involved with L'manburg and DreamSMP poilitics, but has taken a step back since his dad's death. Fundy also canonically misses Schlatt and wants him to be proud of him. He picked up smoking from him.

Punz - gonna be honest, I have never watched Punz.

Purpled - Enderdragon hybrid. Like Sapnap, but purple lol. Use to have a healthy rivalry with Technoblade, but doesn't talk to him anymore. A bit reserved. I don't watch him either idk if you could tell.

Wilbur - Bird hybrid, like Philza; his wings were clipped by Dream when he first began fighting for independence. Good friends with Technoblade. Wilbur was an idealistic person, and he was probably the most loyal member of L'manburg. He was so upset about the betrayals, he thought of them not as betrayals to the country, but to himself. When Schlatt took over, he began to panic. His perfect nation was being ruined, his nation, HIS nation. He thought of it as his and his alone; all those other people? They were side characters. L'manburg his unfinished symphony wasn't his anymore. It scared him. He began planning to take the country out because, well, if he can't have him, then no one can. He manipulated Tommy, making him go along with his plan, slowly becoming more insane and destructive. Deep down, Wil still loved his family, and his country, and his lost lover, but that didn't matter to him anymore. After blowing up L'manburg (the first explosion), Wilbur broke down. He realized what he had done, he'd become a bad guy; he'd worked with Dream. He asked his father to kill him. And so Philza did.

Ghostbur - Wings work again. Ghostbur pretends not to remember, he pretends that he's changed in death, but he remembers all of it. The bad memories hurt him now, more than ever, and he just can't deal with it; so he doesn't. Water makes him melt, and that includes tears. He's trying so hard to be a good person, he's trying so hard to be a good father, a good brother, a good friend. But it isn't working. He's still, though unintentionally, hurting people, and he feels so bad about it.

Schlatt - Ram hybrid. Brother to Puffy and Jordan (Sparklez). Schlatt is a smoker and an alcoholic, and a power hungry dictator. Or well, that's the persona he puts on. Schlatt, in reality (still /dsmp) genuinely does not give a fuck. He didn't care what happened, because he knew that people disliked him. He knew for a fact that he would be killed. This is why I believe he offed himself. He planned his stroke, or heart attack, the fandom doesn't seem to know which. He probably ingested some bad protein powder or poison or something, maybe he drank himself to death, maybe he OD'd and then drank, we don't know. But it seems unlikely that someone like him would let his body give out like that without a reason. Oh yeah, and he and Quackity were married at some point, but it was too short to really mean anything.

Ghlatt - Ghlatt, though still addicted to alcohol and various drugs, feels bad about being a bad person in his life. He thinks that it's a good thing he died, that the server benefited from his death, and that he shouldn't have become a ghost. He's right, of course, but I like to think that he's regained morality. Maybe now, in the afterlife, he can work on himself. Ghlatt isn't strong enough to take a physical form, so he borrows Ghostbur's occasionally.

Skeppy - Some sort of Diamond Ore man?? I think he's human. He and BBH have a thing. I don't think I've ever watched a Skeppy DreamSMP stream. Uhh Egg?? Egg. Badlands boys woo.

Eret - Herobrine is his cousin. Like. Yeah. That Herobrine. Anyways, they're a king, and they're more of an Awesomedude morally grey type character. Her only interest is survival, and I respect that. I haven't really paid much attention to him though. Their crown has bi flag colored gems on it :]

Jack Manifold - Jack Manifol! Jack Manifall~~ Jack Manifall.. off bridge!! Jack Manidrown :} OH SHIT- (i dont watch him)

Niki - Human. Wears Wilbur's old coat. Though she did go through a tough spot after Wilbur's death, she now runs a flower shop with Puffy. Dyes her hair often. I don't watch her either.

Quackity - Duck hybrid; wings were clipped upon his joining the server. His face scar was canonized :] Alex genuinely liked Schlatt, but realized he was being mistreated so he joined Pogtopia. He felt bad about it though. I don't have many headcanons for him to be honest.

Mexican Dream - ok am i the only one that wasn't into this arc?? i didn't even watch any of it. i saw him like once and was like "oh this is just a bit" and left wtf. was he important???

Karl Jacobs - Time Traveler man; human. Karl is slowly losing his memory due to his travel between timelines. The more he does it, the more he loses. I look forward to seeing this progress. Are he, Sapnap, and uhhh someone else actually engaged?? I like that headcanons :] I don't remember who the other person is though.

HBomb - Cat maid.

Technoblade - Piglin shifter. Techno is softer than he seems, and he genuinely enjoys the company of Ranboo and his friend Philza. Technoblade met Phil after saving him from wither skeletons in the Nether, making short visits to the Overworld until he built up an immunity. He likes the cold because it's the opposite of his terrible home dimension. Techno really did want to help Tommy, but their ideals clashed too much for it to work out. Very destructive anarchist. Though, he is pretty chill nowadays.

Antfrost - Cat shifter. So I lied, there are three. Uhh wizard!! I like that HC!! Wizard catboy go brrrr. In reality, I don't watch the Badland Boys often and I haven't seen any of the Egg plot so idk what's up with him lol. I like to think that before the Egg, he and Fundy were friends.

Philza - Wings were beat up during the explosion; he tried to protect Wilbur with them, but still ended up failing. He's the father to Wilbur and Tommy, with Techno being an old friend of his. He canonically really likes cobblestone. Phil tries his best to be the dad, but his morals are all over the place. Lately, he's unofficially adopted Ranboo, helping him with his uh. Issues.

Connor - Human in a Sonic onesie idk i dont watch him

Puffy - Sheep Hybrid. Sister to Schlatt and Jordan, mother to Dream. I really don't know tbh; she's everyone's adoptive mom. She's what Philza and Awesamdude wish they could be.

Vikkstar - Human. Has he?? Done anything?? Ever??

Lazarbeam - Isn't he a gingerbread man or something.

Ranboo - Half Enderman Half [REDACTED]. I dont have headcanons for him tbh I just accept his canon. May be related to XD?

Foolish Gamers - A literal god. He can revive people, but it takes one of his lives. Uhhh he's really good at building what.

Hannahxxrose - I don't watch her :[ I should though

Slimecicle - CHARLIE SLIMECICLE. Slime hybrid obviously. New to the server, very scared [/j] and confused. Doesn't know what's going on and that's ok because he's funny I like him

I got really tired of this towards the end oops

[useless-catalanfacts]

Why is Pablo Hasel justifying and praising terrosist groups??

I’m not sure if you’re asking why Pablo Hasél is accused of praising terrorist groups or why he said what he said. So I’ll answer both things lol.

He got sentenced to jail because of different verses from his rap songs and some tweets. To be precise, the judges have considered that he published 64 tweets that were either against the Spanish monarchy (yes, “offense against the Crown” is a crime in Spain) or praising the armed organisations GRAPO and ETA. These are the tweets that caused more scandal:

“Los parásitos de los Borbones siguen de trapis con los decapitadores de los homosexuales”: “the Bourbon parasites are still doing business with the ones who decapitate homosexuals”

This is a reference to the fact that the Bourbon family (the dynasty of the Spanish monarchy) are, in fact, doing business and being friends with the monarchy of Saudi Arabia, where human rights are not respected at all.

It is a fact that Saudi Arabia condemns homosexuality as a crime: gay people caught for the first time are flogged or jailed and if the “offense” is repeated they are sentenced to death penalty (source). It’s also a fact that King Juan Carlos I has had a long friendship and business relation with the Al Saud dynasty. In 1979, the Saudi monarchy gave Juan Carlos I a yacht as a gift (which he accepted and used for his holidays for years), when the king Fahd of Saudi Arabia died in 2005 the president of Spain José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero (from the PSOE party) declared a national day of mourning for the Saudi king as was suggested to him by the Spanish monarchy, in 2008 king Juan Carlos I received 100 million euros from Saudi Arabia, in 2007 Juan Carlos gave Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (brother of the current king of Saudi Arabia) the collar of the Order of the Golden Fleece (the highest chivalry honour that the King of Spain can give), in 2011 Juan Carlos intervened to the king of Saudi Arabia to get the contract of the high velocity train to Mecca (which is valued in 7,000 million dollars) assigned to a Spanish business, in 2019 the Panama papers revealed an offshore foundation that the Saudi monarchy had used to give the Spanish monarchy 100 million euros... Just a few examples that prove this relation. (Source). And now Juan Carlos I is living in the United Arab Emirates, another country with harsh punishments for homosexuality (among other human rights violations).

So Pablo Hasél was just stating the facts in that sentence.

“El mafioso de mierda del Rey dando lecciones desde un palacio”: “the fucking mafioso King giving lessons from a palace”

Given the many cases of corruption that the king has been involved in, as well as his intervention in the economy (such as profiting from big businesses that had profited from Franco’s dictatorship) and pressure in politics, it’s not so crazy to call him (and his family clan) a mafioso. In fact, the French TV news literally called Juan Carlos I a “gangster” once.

As for the “giving lessons from a palace”, that’s what he does in his Christmas speech or any other time he addresses the citizens, as if we all had it so easy as living and owning multiple palaces with hundreds of maids and not having to work while getting all kinds of luxuries payed for with public money. Not just Juan Carlos, Felipe VI is the same (remember when he went to Cuba to give them lessons on democracy, but then pretended everything was perfect in the visit to Saudi Arabia?).

Once again, Pablo Hasél was not being far from the truth.

“Guardia Civil torturando o disparando a emigrantes”: “the Civil Guard [Spanish military police force] torturing or shooting migrants”

The Civil Guard literally shoots rubber bullets at migrants who are trying to get on Spanish soil in Ceuta (source). By shooting them rubber bullets, the migrant people fall back on the water, and many drown. The Civil Guard murders and tortures migrants. And everything that takes place inside CIEs (migrant detention centers) can also be called torture with no doubt.

Again, these are facts.

Those were posts on social media, he has also been sentenced because of the lyrics of his songs. Here are some sentences from his song “Juan Carlos el Bobón” (the title is a pun with the words "Borbón”-Bourbon- and “bobo”-stupid-).

“Me cago en la marca España explotadora y casposa”: “the exploiter and braggart brand Spain can go fuck itself”

That’s self-explanatory. A personal opinion you can agree or disagree with, but given the things we’ve mentioned in this post and so many more, it’s perfectly understandable that he would feel like this. And he should be free to say it.

“Si Froilán se disparó en el pie siendo menor de edad igual ahora que es mayor de edad va a disparar a toda la Familia Real”: “if Froilán shot himself in the foot when he was underage, maybe now that he’s an adult he’ll shoot the whole Royal Family”

For those who don’t know, Froilán is the son of Infanta Elena, and so the nephew of the current king Philip VI. This line is a reference to 2012, when he was shooting in one of his parents’ possessions and he accidentally shot himself in the foot. It was illegal for him to be shooting in the first place, because Spanish law prohibits kids under 14 years of age to hold firearms, but of course nothing happened to his parents for doing illegal things because they’re the royal family.

Unsurprisingly, this line is considered “offense to the Crown”. It’s not a threat from Hasél, it’s just wishful thinking that I’m sure many people share.

And lines from other songs by Pablo Hasél:

“Siempre hay algún indigente despierto con quien comentar que se debe matar a Aznar”: “there’s always some homeless person awake with whom to talk about the need to kill Aznar”

José María Aznar was president of Spain between 1996 and 2004 with the right-wing party Partido Popular (PP). He was a shit president, during his presidency the labour rights decreased and left thousands of workers with way less protection than before, he focused a lot of his work as president on making the economy more neoliberal and left thousands of workers with unfair salaries and harsh working conditions by allowing the owners to fire and decrease pay at will. He also gave support to the USA in the occupation of Iraq, even when the population had been protesting against it (I was only 4 or 5 years old at the time and even I remember one of the general strikes against it).

“¡Merece que explote el coche de Patxi López!”: “Patxi López’s car deserves to explode”

“¡Que alguien clave un piolet en la cabeza a José Bono!”: “Someone stab an axe on José Bono’s head!”

“No me da pena tu tiro en la nuca, 'pepero'. Me da pena el que muere en una patera. No me da pena tu tiro en la nuca, 'socialisto'. Me da pena el que muere en un andamio”: “I’m not feeling sorry for the shot in the back of your neck, pepero [member of the PP party]. I feel sorry for the ones who die in dinghy boats. I don’t feel sorry for the shot in the back of your neck, socialisto [member of the PSOE party]. I feel sorry for the ones who die in a scaffold”.

“Prefiero grapos que guapos”: “I prefer GRAPOs to handsomes” (a pun). GRAPO was a communist and anti-imperialism armed organisation.

“Mi hermano entra en la sede del PP gritando ¡Gora ETA! A mí no me venden el cuento de quiénes son los malos, sólo pienso en matarlos”: “My brother goes in the PP’s headquarters shouting ‘Gora ETA!’. They won’t sell me the tale of who are the bad guys, I’m only thinking of killing them”

“Es un error no escuchar lo que canto, como Terra Lliure dejando vivo a Losantos”: “It’s a mistake to not listen to what I sing, like when Terra Lliure left Losantos alive”. Terra Lliure was a short-lived communist organisation that wanted to fight for the independence of the Catalan Countries through armed struggle. Jiménez Losantos is a fascist radio host who tells all kinds of lies and manipulates information to spread right-wingism, hatred towards national minorities, homophobia, etc.

“Los Grapo eran defensa propia ante el imperialismo y su crimen”: “GRAPO were self-defense against imperialism and its crime”.

“Quienes manejan los hilos merecen mil kilos de amonal”: “those who pull the strings deserve 1000 kg of ammonal”

“Pienso en balas que nucas de jueces nazis alcancen”: “I think of the bullets that would reach the nazi judges’ back of the necks”

None of these sentences are serious threats / plans at the moment. On the contrary, when the politicians he mentions make policies that directly cause deaths (of migrant people at the borders, suicides in migrant detention centers, of workers in their workplace, of people whose heat and gas is cut off or who are evicted, of women murdered by their husbands because they didn’t have anywhere to go for help, etc), now those are real crimes, aren’t they?

Pablo Hasél has been very vocal about being a communist. So I’ll copy-paste Friedrich Engels’ definition of “social murder”. I don’t know what Pablo had in mind when writing those lyrics but I think this fragments helps understand where he’s coming from.

When one individual inflicts bodily injury upon another such that death results, we call the deed manslaughter; when the assailant knew in advance that the injury would be fatal, we call his deed murder. But when society places hundreds of proletarians in such a position that they inevitably meet a too early and an unnatural death, one which is quite as much a death by violence as that by the sword or bullet; when it deprives thousands of the necessaries of life, places them under conditions in which they cannot live — forces them, through the strong arm of the law, to remain in such conditions until that death ensues which is the inevitable consequence — knows that these thousands of victims must perish, and yet permits these conditions to remain, its deed is murder just as surely as the deed of the single individual; disguised, malicious murder, murder against which none can defend himself, which does not seem what it is, because no man sees the murderer, because the death of the victim seems a natural one, since the offence is more one of omission than of commission. But murder it remains. (Engels, The Condition of the Working-Class in England, 1845)

So we can agree or disagree with Pablo Hasél and what he says or his way of saying it, but that doesn’t mean he should be jailed because of it. And it’s incredibly hypocritical to consider saying (not doing, just saying!) that “there’s always some homeless person to talk about the need to kill Aznar with” is violence, but to ignore that Aznar’s involvement in the Iraq helped kill thousands of civilians (for a lie, because Iraq did NOT have weapons of mass destruction!) and caused the misery and indirectly the death of so many workers.

If your question was why did Pablo Hasél say these things, I think two of the sentences we said sum it up:

“I’m not feeling sorry for the shot in the back of your neck, pepero [member of the PP party]. I feel sorry for the ones who die in dinghy boats. I don’t feel sorry for the shot in the back of your neck, socialisto [member of the PSOE party]. I feel sorry for the ones who die in a scaffold” and “GRAPO were self-defense against imperialism and its crime”. Pablo Hasél was highlighting how the current situation we live in is already violence. Violence inflicted by capitalism, imperialism and hatred, so he would consider his words self-defense.

[47-shades-of-hitman]

In Your Likeness | Chapter 5 - A sliver of humanity

“Hey, you down for a run?”

Agent 47 looked up from the folder Diana had given him and saw you standing on the threshold, hands on your hips. Your hair had been tightly tucked behind your ears and instead of your usual Assassin’s attire, you now wore a somewhat more casual fit.

“Why not.” he said, standing up and putting away the documents.

You hummed and plopped down on one of the available chairs.

“Well then, I’ll wait here for a bit until you’re ready to go.”

He frowned. “Wait for what?”

“For you to put on your training gear, or something more breathable.” you said.

After a moment of silence you turned to him.

“You aren’t going to tell me that your plan was to… To run in that suit?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, a lot actually.” you explained, “People will stare. Besides, it’s very hot outside.”

“I function just right in this no matter the heat.”

You arose from your seat and crossed your arms, opposing him. “It looks ridiculous. A man sprinting in a suit like that through ancient Jerusalem. Tell you what, we’ll take an alternative route instead.”

Agent 47 wasn’t sure what you meant – “Alternative route?”

Instead of answering, you turned on your heel and left the room, the hitman soon following. He easily caught up to you and in silence, you left the Brotherhood’s quarters.

Despite the scorching heat, you broke out into a slight jog to warm up.

“Do you do parkour?” you quizzed upon approaching a wall.

“Excuse me?”

You flung yourself onto it, grabbing ridges and bricks that were sticking out, climbing up with practised ease. In about six seconds, you stood on top of a two-story building, peering over the edge to see what was taking him so long.

“I’m not sure if I…”

You pointed at the drainpipe on the side of the wall, shrugging. “Just use that. You’ll learn.”

47 climbed up and dusted down his slacks right after. “Heavily reliant on scaling buildings, aren’t you?”

You chuckled dryly. 

“The Assassins have been doing that since the beginning of the Brotherhood. If anything, it’s one of our most important skills. It’s a fantastic way to go from A to B unseen, and way quicker at that. I don’t carry them on me at this moment, but on one of my bracers I do have a grappling hook which I can use to my advantage.”

Walking over the flat rooftops, you hopped from one house to the other, staying out of sight from balconies and cameras.

“The beginning of the Brotherhood,” Agent 47 repeated. “How far back does it date? Golden Age? Middle Ages?”

A laugh fell from your lips and you jumped down a ledge before propelling yourself up a higher wall, gripping the edge. After hoisting yourself up, you turned back to help 47 out, but he managed just fine on his own.

“No, 47. The Brotherhood of Assassin originates in ancient Egypt.”

“Egypt?”

“In the time of Cleopatra. The Hidden Ones were the first ones, but no one knows who they really were. Eventually, it grew out into a Brotherhood for people carrying out assassinations and protecting our employers. Long story short: through the ages, we spread all over the world. Greece, Italy, America, France, England… You name it.”

47 let out a sound of surprise, since he had never known that it dated so far back.

“Our cause was to fight for peace above all things. Protect the people who needed us to do so. Working in the dark to serve the light. Our motto –  nothing is true, everything is permitted .”

You halted and looked out over the Wailing Wall, folding your hands on your back. Taking in the sight of Jews gathering to pray brought a sense of serenity.

“We fight for peace in freedom. And in that, we differ from our enemies, the Templars, or their more public name nowadays, Abstergo Industries . Once founded in the early thousands, set on claiming back the Holy Land under a veil of Catholicism, but under the surface, a whole lot less to do with whatever peace the church preaches. The Order of the Knights Templar once believed that peace could only be gained through oppression of lesser people and dictatorship.”

You shuddered even though the weather was far from cold – thoroughly appalled by the idea of them.

“And eventually, it became an institute of rich men seeking to become more wealthy and powerful. And then came the Pieces of Eden. Of course they already existed, but the more modern war about them, I mean.”

For a moment, you looked over at 47 to see if he was still listening. His eyes were as blue as the sky and made your heart skip a beat. Every time you saw that colour you remembered that they were the bluest shade you had ever seen.

Deciding to proceed walking, you stepped away, 47 in tow.

“I promise I won’t bore you for any longer.” you said, “If I’m talking too much, just say the word.”

“Well,” 47 began, “I was the one who asked you to teach me about the Brotherhood of Assassins, did I not?”

Your lips quirked upward and you exhaled. “I suppose. Tell me about you first, it would only be fair.”

“If you insist.” he said, “At the moment, I work for the ICA. It’s an organization handling contracts given by clients. I’m their hitman for particularly difficult jobs.”

“Like seeking out a secret organization created by both of our enemies.”

“Correct. As you know, I’m genetically made to be the best assassin one can create, with a very low failure rate.”

You hopped down a few roofs and reached a lower wall, where you jumped off, landing on the cobble street. Your conversation hadn’t made you able to do some parkouring through the town, anyway.

“Since you told your story quite quickly, I shall make mine short, too. I killed Ort-Meyer, who created me through his experiments, wanted to leave the world of killing by living with a priest, but eventually, he got kidnapped and I was pulled back into the trade. After all, I barely know how to do anything else.”

A large grin spread over your face as you two walked down the street, pushing past a few tourists in the process. “A priest? Never expected you of all people to take interest in such things.”

“I tended to the garden.” 47 explained, unsure why he was telling you this – after all, he barely knew you and whatever he was telling could be used against him, for he couldn’t be seen as weak.

But your eyes were kind and glimmered in amusement as you looked at him.

“Look at you, the one purely created to take lives, tends and cares for it.”

47’s gut twisted in confusion at the lack of humour in your voice. Where he had expected you to mock him for it, you were inexplicably accepting. “I suppose.” he mused.

“And here we are.” you added. “This way.”

You guided him outside of the ancient city and went uphill for a while, the Mount of Olives at your right hand.

“The Pieces of Eden, then.” 47 reminded you.

“Oh, yes.” you breathed, “The Pieces of Eden grant the holder great power over others. The Templars want those artefacts for themselves, so the Creed countered by making it their duty to do all to prevent that. And if we know where those artefacts are, we can keep an eye on them, take them to hide them away and most importantly, avoid conflict.”

“Avoid conflict? That clashes with our current mission.”

“Well, if it  can  be avoided. We’re not afraid to fight for it. Peace through freedom, I mean. Sometimes force is needed, and so it shall be done.” you concluded, shrugging a little.

“And you, what is your story?” 47 quizzed as the pair of you halted on top of the Mount of Olives. You were slightly out of breath because of the heat, holding your hand above your brow to shield yourself from the sunlight. The golden Dome of the Rock stood shining brightly.

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), thirty-five years old, Master Assassin of Jerusalem’s Brotherhood. Nothing that you don’t know of.”

Agent 47 huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Why the interest?” you softly quizzed. “It’s not that it matters.”

“You said you wanted to become acquainted.”

You smirked, folding your hands on your back, closing your eyes to enjoy the light of the sun on your cheeks.

“I was born into the Brotherhood, like my father and his father’s father. Needless to say, we have a long history in the Creed. Not the most prominent or anything, but quite famous. My father’s side of the family consisted of ruthless Assassins, living for their trade. My father fell in love with a young female Assassin and married her – my mother. They had my brother, Joseph, and me. All was well and my parents were loved by the Brotherhood, but one day, my father died while on duty.”

Your voice faltered upon ending your sentence, and you looked at your boots for a moment, exhaling deeply. “I never really got to know the man who he was behind the blade. He trained us, and everything I know, I know from him. In hindsight, he was more a mentor than a father. I respect him greatly, but I never felt like I was his daughter. I suppose it’s a bit strange… Well, not for you. In theory, you killed the man who put you onto this Earth.”

Agent 47 hummed, breathing in the scorching air.

“And your mother?”

“She’s in Thailand, in a retirement home set up by Assassins. There she can live her final days in peace, try to forget about the passing of her husband and her son, but with her later stage of Alzheimer’s, I’m not sure where her emotions are at the moment.”

Gesturing to the side, you told Agent 47 to head down the street.

“What happened to Joseph?”

You halted in your tracks, a few tourists that had been walking behind you nearly bumping into you, muttering something angry in what you recognized to be Spanish –  Perdona , you murmured, shaking your head before resuming your walk, albeit at a quicker pace now.

“I don’t like to talk about it.” you said, “Maybe another time. I’ve already told a lot about myself. Enough for now. We should get to actually working out, now.”

Breaking out into a jog, you started running down the street, passing by tourists every now and then.

“Do you often run?” 47’s voice was unusually steady given that you were dashing forward at quite a pace.

“As often as I can. Keeps me fit.”

He hummed in agreement. “Can’t argue with that.”

You went running through a few streets before speaking again – “Mind if I spice this up a bit?”

Before 47 could respond, however, you were already scaling a high wall on your left, pushing yourself up with practised ease. He spotted a drainpipe and sighed in acceptance, soon following you up the roof.

When he finally vaulted onto it, he saw that you were already a few buildings away, leaping from one with so much as the bat of an eye.

“Are you seeing this?” he asked, then realizing that Diana couldn’t hear him – after all, he wasn’t on a mission and thus he didn’t carry his trackers – and he knew that pursuing you wouldn’t bring him anywhere. Another thing he recognized was that he lacked an important skill he hadn’t realised he didn’t have, until now. You leapt further and further away, gracefully so, as if you were dancing.

Where he mostly blended into the crowd, hiding in plain sight, you were away in the blink of an eye, gone with the wind.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing him just stand on the roof where you had left him. He was watching you with an odd posture, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of your antics.

Smirking, you shook your head, resuming your trip back to the headquarters. Bouncing to the edge, you peered down the side of the roof to see if it was all still clear, and upon seeing that the bushes were still soft and plump enough to fall upon, you spread your arms, diving off.

Agent 47 felt his stomach churn in shock, his breath hitching as he watched you jump. As if snapped out of a trance, he darted to the end as quickly as he could, immediately figuring out the importance of scaling and parkour in the speed at which he was currently going.

He came to a halt at the edge and leaned over it to find you standing with your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I thought you…”

“Hm…” you replied. “Come on, let’s get back to the headquarters.”

47 slid down a drainpipe and walked up to you.

“That was… Impressive.” 47 stated as you resumed your trip back to the base.

“Thank you.” you mused, “That dive was a  Leap of Faith. Took a long time to master.”

“I can imagine.”

You turned your face away, smiling in amusement.

Even though it was tiny, a bond was starting to form.

These months were going to become interesting, you figured.

[cuntess-carmilla]

This post relies on information about the human rights violations that Piñera’s government put us through, but since it’ll include very triggering content, I’ll attach the information at the end, below the proper TWs.

Don’t get me wrong, I am so glad and relieved about the Apruebo and CC winning this past Sunday, especially it winning by such a landslide. It’s just that whenever I start to rejoice internally about it I quickly fall back to thinking of what was lost in the process to get where we are now.

I can’t think of celebrating in peace without thinking of how many people didn’t make it to see this, without remembering that it cost us lives, extreme trauma, and hundreds mutilated to achieve something that:

Should be common fucking sense. How come we STILL are under the constitution crafted by a dictatorship that ended 30 years ago?

We were SO close to getting a new one without all this sacrifice. Michelle Bachelet started the process of creating a new democratic constitution in 2015, and Piñera stomped on it as soon as he started his second term in 2018.

Due to my chronic illness, which had me nearly bedridden then, and the excruciating conflict it would’ve caused at home with my parents, I didn’t go out to protest and neither did my siblings, so nothing happened to me or my family. But I remember. I remember how I was feeling last year.

I spent weeks crying every day reading of and seeing in real time the horrors my fellow Chileans were going through. I remember the sickening feeling I got all over my body whenever there was news of another death. I remember the rage, powerlessness and sorrow that invaded me whenever I saw footage of the police abusing civilians. I didn’t go through any of it myself and yet I’m pretty sure I acquired some level of trauma from it. It was too much.

I can’t even say I’m glad that those who died didn’t die in vain. There’s nothing I can be “glad” of about their deaths, much less when we were about to get a new democratic constitution very little before the revolts, only for that son of a bitch to ruin it in a minute. All I can say is I would’ve lost my shit had the plebiscite gone wrong despite all we lost and went through to get here.

It’s hard to be happy about this without getting mixed feelings, after the initial rush of victory passed. I feel deep shame by standing here celebrating when I did nothing other than voting and translating news on Twitter, while the people who paid the highest price for this to happen aren’t here to see it, and others who did make it but paid much higher prices than me are wounded for life one way or another.

None of this death, trauma and mutilation should’ve had to happen for the 1980 constitution to be finally done with, 30 fucking years after the dictatorship had already ended.

TW: Police brutality, torture, rape, object rape, murder, death, child death, eye injury, homophobic violence.

A minimum of 34 people died between October of 2019 and March of 2020 in the context of the revolt (not all directly at the hands of the police or military). One of the fatal victims was a 17 years old boy, Yoshua Osorio. Another was a 4 years old boy, Joel Triviño.

Some of the deaths at the hands of state forces weren’t caused by being attacked directly, but were instead cases such as Abel Acuña’s (27), who had a cardiac arrest during a protest. The police very deliberately blocked the ambulances and other aid trying to reach him in time, while shooting pellet bullets, teargas bombs and their water cannons at them.

Over 5,500 Chileans have reported human rights violations as a whole, out of which 834 are minors.

According to Amnesty International, over 1,000 people were tortured in a variety of ways.

I couldn’t find the exact number, but people were raped by the police, both men and women, young and old. Some were raped with police batons. There were gay men raped by the police specifically for being gay. The police also sexually abused many others in ways that weren’t necessarily rape.

445 people had their eyes mutilated by the police. The most emblematic cases are those of Gustavo Gatica (21) and Fabiola Campillay (36). They lost both of their eyes.

3,765 people in total were wounded by the police by February 2020. Many of those people couldn’t have the lead pellet bullets removed from their bodies due to them having landed in very delicate parts of the body.

Beyond the revolts, once the pandemic arrived in Chile, they put business over our lives and gave people in need laughable aid. The most vulnerable to becoming infected are those who rely on public transport and can’t work remotely, so, the working class. Santiago’s public transport system is HIGHLY over-saturated in the mornings and when work shifts end. By now, our country of 19 million people has lost over 14,000 lives to COVID.

[allbeendonebefore]

Hey hapo what's with the sea of blue in sask and Alberta during the election like did Sheer make that good of an impression on Sask voters??? NDP is option??

sea of blue you say? obviously we created our own blue sea since we’re not allowed access to tidewater JKJKJKJK

this is a really complicated question and I’m trying to think about how best to explain it. my feelings on the issue are very mixed because i feel like i have a foot or a hand in several camps like some convoluted twister game. it’s something that a lot of identity and emotion is tied up in for a lot of people and it’s rooted very firmly in inequalities that have existed for over a century and get expressed differently in different regions. It’s something that I grew up saturated in and I’ve done a lot of reading about (and of course there’s always more on my reading list) but I’ll try and highlight a few reasons that I’ve been musing about so as not to be too overwhelming. 

it’s something that is really hard to explain to people from outside the province because we’re quick to be written off (sometimes rightfully so, others not) but it’s something that’s equally hard to explain to people inside the province. As I said it’s something we’re all saturated in, we are born into it or we grow up in it and it’s really hard to confront a lot of things surrounding it. And I definitely have my own biases and background and relation to this issue and I must stress that as furious as I am with people in large groups making dumb ass decisions, I can’t be angry at individuals because I get a lot of why this happens even though I find it personally misguided or ignorant at best and actively harmful, selfish, and self-sabotaging at worst. But when I explain this I hope it makes sense why for a lot of people it feels like the only option.

And my last preface is that I am speaking from an Alberta perspective, if my followers in Saskatchewan want to add on to this please feel free. I’m glossing over a lot here because I’m trying to keep this short and understandable… but when have I ever done that lol.

Yeah, it got long.

so why does the west go conservative. it’s not scheer, and if you remember harper you’ll remember personality is never high on our list of priorities. [insert gif of harper explaining how he too is a human who watches netflix here] 

1. History 

To sum up two hundred years: Alberta and Saskatchewan were never equal partners in confederation with other provinces. They were purchased and carved up by the Canadian government which then imposed the two party system on the provinces, which prior had consensus government which (i believe) was similar to how NWT and Nunavut continue to operate. They were not given the rights to their own resources until decades after joining confederation. They were given Liberal governments because the Liberals were and are considered the “natural” governing party of Canada, and while Saskatchewan has flopped between Liberal and Conservative governments like many eastern provinces, Alberta has always had a radical streak and has NEVER re-elected an unseated party in its history. And no, I don’t consider the UCP a continuation of the previous 4 decades of conservative rule, even though they imagine themselves to be the inheritors of that legacy. 

Fast forward to the direct impacts: in the 70s, world events that severely impacted oil production caused Eastern Canada to absolutely panic and force Alberta and Saskatchewan (yet again) into providing discounts on their production to soften the blow in Ontario and Quebec of rising prices, forbidding them to sell for a profit to the United States. This included both oil products and potash, hugely lucrative products in AB and SK. It was a continuation of Eastern Canada imagining and treating the prairies as property, as chattel, where provinces like Quebec and BC would never be asked to undersell to benefit the rest of the country. 

The current federal conservative party is an amalgamation of reactions to this situation and related ones: the Progressive party (which was a complete misnomer) originated in Manitoba, the Reform party emerged from what I understand as the “first wave” of western separatism, and even though Reform was defeated federally it is still a direct ancestor to Stephen Harper and by extension Andrew Scheer. Harper’s policies are the natural product of decades of conservative governments dating back to Preston and Earnest Manning’s Social Credit party in Alberta.

That said, people from both inside and outside the provinces completely misunderstand Harper’s (and Kenney’s) “Western-ness” or “Albertan-ness”. Both of them ran on western issues and appear to speak up for western interests, but those issues and interests only go as far as the CEOs of the oil companies are concerned, not the working class in the industry. Harper and Kenney actively undermined the equalization formula for the west and had the gall to campaign on striking a good deal for the west. Federal politicians do not have to ever strike a good deal for the west, they will ALWAYS prioritize voters in Ontario and Quebec so long as our voting system remains this way. 

2. Identity

My next point in the long agonizing question of Why This is a sensitive one. In Alberta we have my parent’s generation who were voting age at the toppling of Social Credit by Lougheed’s Conservatives. For Alberta this was a monumental shift in taking no shit from Ottawa that people still look back on. Lougheed was a hero for demanding a fair price from Canada for Alberta, and he was incredibly concerned with managing the resource and the profits wisely. While conservative governments were natural and long standing in eastern Canada, this was the first time they had taken power in Alberta and they made a dramatic and revolutionary impression, which is not a thing that conservative governments are usually known to do. 

My parent’s generation remembers this time of intense prosperity. My parent’s generation raised their children in this boom-bust cycle and my parent’s generation watched as Lougheed’s heritage fund was spent out from under us. I grew up under Ralph Klein’s government- intensely popular for a premier and who’s legacy was as powerful as Lougheed’s, but incredibly polarizing. He gave $300 to every man, woman and child in the province (except my fam because we had just moved back and didn’t have residency, lol) which was memorable if irresponsible. But it was men like Klein who had the charisma and the presence to make people really take pride in the industry, to worship the boom-bust, and to consider all problems solved. Klein did not give a shit about the part of Alberta I grew up in, and friends who lived in the far north of the province fared even worse. It’s absolutely no wonder that the Edmonton area consistently votes “against” the rest of the province when we were left isolated and broken during the bust of the 90s and ignored repeatedly in the mid to late 2000s. 

I have a deep seated and extreme resentment for Ralph Klein’s government and it’s not because I missed out on my 300 Ralph Bucks or because I don’t have connections to the industry, it’s because I grew up with a deep seated fear that I wouldn’t be able to complete my education or that if I got sick something horrible would happen. I was legitimately terrified I would not be able to make it to secondary school because of the cuts his government made on rural schools, and for friends of mine who were not as lucky and well supported as I was, it was even worse. I won’t drag their personal stories onto the internet to make my point, but know 

But the point of this all is that the people alive today who vote are people who remember this time of prosperity, of fighting Ottawa, and of relative ‘freedom’ from taxation and so on and so forth are constantly trying to hold onto that time. The kids in my generation who I went to school with did not have to graduate high school - my school had a 70% drop out rate because people would go straight to the patch or into a related industry. In Alberta, every industry is a related industry. There is not an aspect of living in Alberta that the patch doesn’t touch. This is hard to understand for people outside the province. It was actual culture shock to me to come to Ontario where funders of schools and businesses are families that date back to confederation rather than Enbridge or Suncor. 

Moreover, the people who work in the patch do an incredibly difficult and dangerous job for incredible amounts of money and it’s no wonder they are so valourized. The people who work in the patch are more dependent on the companies than they are on the government. During the fire of 2016, it may have been the government providing evacuation stations, but it was the companies who got people out. Working class people feel seriously undervalued and are obviously seriously defensive about the industry for real, concrete reasons. 

The past four decades have shaped generations of people in this way. This is not something easily reversed. Voting conservative is almost inextricable from Albertan identity and it’s impossible to explain concisely. We all grow up with the same arguments and talking points, we are all imbued with anger and defensive remarks from birth, and to people outside the province our arguments can sound rehearsed to the point of sounding cult-like. Stop Using Plastic If You Don’t Like It. Stop Driving and Flying. Stop Importing from Dictatorships. Stop Being a Hypocrite. They are easy, simple mantras to absolve anyone related to the industry (which is everyone) of any guilt because they don’t have to be a hypocrite if they just embrace the reality. There is no room for any critical thought in this identity, there is no room for discussion, there is nothing beyond Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and Don’t Ever Criticize What Keeps Everything Running. It’s normal and natural to feel upset when people who don’t grow up with this line of thinking find it strange.

3. Alienation

So why doesn’t our valourization of the working class translate directly into NDP votes? Why does Rachel Notley become vilified for speaking and acting as Peter Lougheed did in the 1970s? Why do we continue voting conservative and say thank you when they betray us and kick us in the balls every single time? Why do we cover up our oh-so-shameful history of birthing the CCF/NDP out of the desperation and destitution of the Great Depression? 

As I’ve been saying it’s complicated, but it’s also really simple. No federal party ever speaks to us. Not a single one. The conservatives barely have to because they know our identity as conservative dates back to before a time when we even had a provincial upper-case Conservative government ourselves. Scheer can parade up and down parliament hill with his appeals to free speech and his pro life base and his white supremacist dogwhistles all he likes because he knows keeping Alberta and Saskatchewan “happy” (read: angry) is easy. This is a man who said himself that he doesn’t need ‘indian votes’ to win and he certainly was far more worried about keeping Doug Ford out of the spotlight during his campaign and pissing off Ontario than he was about us, and premier kenney spent all his time in office campaigning for scheer instead of running the goddamn province, including preparing us for an emergency. And we lap it up while screaming bloody murder if rachel notley is not personally handing out waterbottles on the side of the highway of death. 

No party, not even the conservatives, truly speaks to Albertans. We get hated on constantly by the rest of the country because we appear to be full of climate change deniers, but even the CEO of SUNCOR condemns deniers and politicians who cater to them. A lot of Albertans do acknowledge climate change is a reality despite how we’re painted, but because of the misunderstanding we feel directed at us constantly we tend to react badly and would rather hole up in our bunkers and let the rest of the country freeze in the dark - or melt in the sun as it were. No party speaks to working class rural people. No party makes the attempt to speak to people who are still only grappling with already outdated terminology like “global warming” while they are shoveling snow in August or September. No party is talking about actual grievances that working class people in Alberta face, such as long hours away from home and family or intense isolation that leads to addiction and death, that matter more to people than seemingly hypothetical change in climate that happens Elsewhere, not Here. Parties need to start coming up with concrete solutions that will make the inevitable transition more than just necessary but inclusive and beneficial. No one wants to feel like they have to start from scratch, no one wants to worry about what to do or how it will help. We aren’t used to thinking about solving problems, and we keep putting it on the next generation while we make it even harder for them.  

The more we are criticized the more militaristic the vocabulary becomes, and that’s why we provincially voted for a war room and tax cuts while taking the money from school lunch programs. We rest on our laurels of having the lowest child poverty rate in the country while stealing money from children and blaming their parents for them going hungry. It’s abominable. And a lot of us realize it. And a lot of us still feel as if we have no choice. A lot of progressive voices get drowned out in stifling silence and any change feels like an existential threat. We got ourselves into this mess, but we all need to work together to get out of it. And that means listening to the strongest opposition we’ve had in nearly a half century. That means being grown ups and sitting at the table with the rest of the country. That means fighting the gut reaction to sputter out talking points you were taught to say because it meant protecting your family. That also means that we need to be listened to in return without smugness or patronizing attitudes from politicians or the rest of the country. 

If you want us to switch to alternative energy, you all need to step up and start helping us do that. As long as we feel as if it’s being imposed on us we will struggle and we will fight, but it’s exactly why it’s so important to change the tone of the conversation. Listen to us. Help us. Make us feel like we’re part of the country. Give us the tools we need to be better. Encourage us to be leaders in the energy industry because we love being the best and thrive off healthy competition. Appeal to real, concrete issues for working class people with real concrete solutions. 

yeah. uh. [places mic shakily back on the stand] peace im going to bed, fight me or whatever. 

[hystericalrogertaylor]

As The World Crumbles (Chapter Five)

Collaboration with @bentaylorrogerhardy

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word count: 2099 

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have been dating since Bohemian Rhapsody’s release. Everything seemed perfect for the young couple, until the night of the Golden Globes. Russia has bombed the United States, destroying everything and implementing a ruthless dictatorship. With the country in tatters, Ben, (Y/n), Rami, Lucy, Joe, and Gwilym form the Killer Queens, a vigilante group aimed on destroying the new government, and the cold-blooded dictator, Cornelius Vanzant.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of kidnapping/guns, one cuss word, heart-wrenching angst and super duper-squishy fluff 

A/N: I think y’all are gonna like this...

Master list

Spotify playlist

(I feel like this gif was edited with a filter or something, so yeah, it’s not ours. Haha)

~~~

“Oh, my God,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Lucy stood there, in front of the TV, seemingly paralyzed by fear and shock. Then, her knees started to buckle, eventually giving out under her. She fell to the floor and started to scream.

“NO!” she yelled at the blank TV screen. “This can’t be happening! Rami, come back!” She leaned forward, almost putting her head on the floor and sobbing her heart out. “Why?!”

Ben slowly broke away from your side, kneeling down next to an inconsolable Lucy. He pulled her into a hug, whispering “shhhh” to try and calm her down. “Hey, we’ll get him back. Okay? We’ll do all we can. Please don’t cry.”

“He’s going to die!” she shouted, her body shaking with each sob. “They’re going to kill him!”

“We won’t let that happen,” Ben said quietly.

Lucy sniffled loudly, sitting up and looking Ben straight in the eyes. “Can you promise me that? Can you promise he’ll be alive to see his child?” Ben broke eye contact, looking down at his lap. “That’s what I thought.” She stood up, brushing her pants to get rid of the dust. “I know we can’t guarantee his survival, but we can at least try.” She wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks, smearing the tears.

“It’s your call,” Gwilym said, standing off to the side. “We’ll do what you want to do.”

“We watch them,” she said. “We watch the news, watch what they schedule. If his execution is public, we can get him that way. If it’s not, we can break into whatever headquarters they’re using and take him that way.”

Gwilym nodded. “Okay. Sounds doable. Let’s get to work as soon as everyone can.”

Frankie, at some point, had come into the room, watching everyone’s somber expressions. Dogs can smell emotions, and Lucy was the most depressed in the whole room. She slowly made her way over to Lucy, jumping up on her leg.

Lucy actually smiled. “Hey girl. Hey Frankie.” She picked the dog up, holding her to her face. “Everything’s fine, girl. We’ll all be fine.”

In response, Frankie started to lick Lucy’s face, making Lucy laugh a little. “That tickles!” She held Frankie away at arm’s length, smiling at her. “Thanks for that, Frankster. I needed it.”

---

After a hard day of planning how to get Rami back, you and Ben went back to your room, not even changing clothes before slipping under the blankets. Ben stared up at the ceiling, not making an effort to hide his pain.

“I just can’t believe we let that happen,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “He was behind us, and when we turned around a random man had a gun on his head.” He took a deep breath. “We tried to shoot him as he got away but it wasn’t any use. We could’ve hit Rami.”

You shook your head. “You’re so stupid,” you said, rolling over to face away from him.

You heard him sit up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How could you possibly think you could take him down?” you asked, trying not to look at him. “They’re a powerful group of people, there’s no way you could’ve saved him.”

“What the hell, (Y/n)?!” he practically shouted.

You slowly sat up, finally looking back over at him, tears starting to pool in your eyes. “It’s just...I hate living every day knowing that any moment, these terrible people could just yank you out of my grasp.” You gulped, trying to suppress a sob. “I know it makes me a terrible person, but I’m so glad they didn’t get you. I don’t know what I would’ve done.” You paused for several seconds, waiting for Ben to say something. When he didn’t, you continued to talk.

“I’ll have nightmares. Almost every night. And a vast majority of them are you dying. I’ll...I’ll wake up and actually have to check the other side of the bed to make sure you’re still there. I’ve also scoured the pharmacy for pregnancy tests, and I’ll sometimes take them after a nightmare where I lose both of you, just to make sure the baby’s still there too.” Ben blinked several times, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. “You two are my everything, I couldn’t handle losing either of you. No way in hell would I be as calm as Lucy is right now.” You had to stop because you were sobbing so hard. “Please, just...don’t leave me. You’re all I have left.”

Ben sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. You held onto him for dear life, letting your tears fall onto his shirt. He stroked your hair, placing soft kisses on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, love. I’ll protect all three of us with whatever I can. We’ll be okay.”

“But it’s like what Lucy said,” you whimpered. “We can’t guarantee anything. If you go out on a run tomorrow to stalk Vanzant’s men, there’s no way you can say you’ll come home because you just don’t know! Fuck, I wish we’d never gone to the stupid Golden Globes!” You shook your head. “We could’ve been home, in London, watching from afar. We wouldn’t be in this stupid mess!”

“Once this is all over, we’ll head back to London, have our family, and never think about these years again.” Ben held you closer. “You’re the love of my life. Being with you until I die is all I want to do, and I’m willing to do whatever to get there, including killing Vanzant myself.”

You looked up, grabbing Ben’s face with both of your hands and pulling him into a kiss. It was short, but full of love and meaning. You knew he meant every word he just said.

You pulled away, still sniffling. “Let’s...I don’t know...go on a walk tomorrow. Spend the day with each other. Forget our problems.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “You want to go outside? You just protested me--”

“No, not in a public place or anything,” you clarified. “You know the garden behind the hospital? We could just hang out there all day. Get some fresh air and sunshine.”

Ben smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, placing several kisses here and there. “That sounds amazing.”

You sighed, running your fingers through his hair slowly. “What are you doing?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” he answered, pushing you down onto the mattress.

---

You and Ben woke up bright and early, wanting to get a jump start on your relaxation day. After changing out of your birthday suits and finding Frankie a leash, you said goodbye to everyone else and headed out to the hospital’s garden.

What remained of the lush area was still as beautiful as ever in your eyes. The hospital walls had begun to be severely depressing. The fresh scenery and open air was already doing wonders for you.

“All right Frankie,” Ben said, unhooking her from the leash. “Go have fun!” Frankie ran off, sniffing several plants and always staying close to you two.

You and Ben took a stroll, hand-in-hand, in complete silence, listening to the sounds of nature and the apocalypse. Under the shade of trees and knowing you weren’t seen was quite calming for you. If a plane hadn’t flown over at that moment, you would’ve had more hope for the future to be better.

“We’ve been inside for I don’t even know how long,” you said, beginning to swing the arm holding Ben’s hand. “It’s so nice to get out.”

“It is,” Ben agreed. “I’m already having more fun than when I went out yesterday.”

You shook your head, feeling the sadness creep back in. “No, we’re not talking about that. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“Right, sorry.” He pantomimed zipping his lips, making you smile.

You sighed, looking up at Ben. “Do you ever just randomly think about the fact that we’re about to be parents? Like, you almost forget about it and then you remember and get that happy, fuzzy feeling, but at the same time you’re scared because this isn’t where you want to raise a child.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But usually I just get all smiley and giddy because, wow, I’m gonna be a dad. And the mom is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

You blushed, smiling down at your shoes. You ran a hand over your stomach. “I can’t wait to have a bump.”

“Why’s that?” He put his hand on top of yours, causing you both to stop walking.

“Because then it’ll be real.” You smiled at him. “Then I’ll actually feel pregnant.”

Ben frowned, laughing. “I’m surprised you didn’t feel pregnant when you threw up again this morning and then cried about how cute Frankie is.”

You smacked his arm, laughing. “Oh, you know what I mean!”

Ben chuckled, pulling you into his chest. You sighed with contentment while he ran a hand up and down your back. “We should tell the others,” Ben suggested again.

You pulled away, shaking your head. “Ben, you know we still can’t do that.”

“But why not?” He was getting upset again, and you just wanted the conversation to be over.

“It’ll stress them out, and Lucy will be more upset that Rami’s not here for her.” You grabbed his hand again, beginning to slowly stroll again.

“All right,” he ceded, letting you pull him down the path.

After a few more minutes, you came upon a fountain. The water had long since evaporated, leaving an empty, beautiful stone monument. Frankie, who was still right on your heels, ran up to it and began sniffing around, even jumping up inside, before spotting a butterfly flitting about and chasing after it.

“Frankie, please don’t eat the butterfly!” you called after her. You shook your head. “Never really thought I’d have to say that out loud.”

Ben laughed, watching his dog run around and bark. “The butterfly’s too high up, she won’t get it.” He sat down on the edge of the fountain. The sun shone directly on him, making his blond hair glow and his blue eyes sparkle. You sat down next to him, putting your head on his shoulder.

“There’s no place I’d rather be right now,” you said, closing your eyes.

“Me neither.” He used his finger to tilt your chin up, pressing a kiss onto your lips. You grabbed his shoulders as he cupped your face, trying to be as close as possible. You swung your legs over and moved towards him so you were sitting on his lap. He moved a hand to your waist, always being careful to avoid touching your stomach (he was always paranoid he’d accidentally hurt the baby). The moment was getting a little heated, which wasn’t uncommon for you two, until he said something that made you stop.

He dug his fingers into your hair, pausing the kiss for a second. “Marry me,” he whispered.

“Wait.” You put your hands on his chest, pushing him away only slightly. “What did you say?”

This time, he stared directly into your eyes as he said, “I want you to marry me.” When you said nothing, he continued: “I’ve been thinking about it. I know you love me, and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. Like I said last night, my one goal is to spend my life with you. I would have no greater joy than if you said yes to marrying me.”

You had a few tears slipping down your cheek. Somewhere deep down, you knew this moment would come; you would even daydream about it sometimes. But nothing could compare to the actual words he spoke.

“Yes,” you rasped, your throat filled with phlegm. You cleared your throat quickly before trying to speak again. “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

His face broke out with the biggest grin you’d ever seen. He chuckled as his own tears began to trail down his face. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

You used your thumbs to wipe away his tears, smiling wide. You pushed your face back into his, continuing the kiss from earlier. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, never wanting to let go.

Until Frankie jumped up next to you both, a large pine cone in her mouth. You both looked down at her, laughing. You smiled, knowing that your planned day had turned out perfectly.

Tag list: @florencewelchmybiggod @xquiet-thoughtsx@virtualsheepeat @pietrorunsforme @stella2445 @dovexparker@amostpeculiarmademoisellerp @harrysniallpolish @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank (I’m terrible at tag lists, so send an ask if I forgot you. Sorry!) 

[elizabeth-234]

Whumptober 2019

Day Seven: Isolation 

Read on AO3

Hi Friends! Hope your week started off well!

Day Six: Dragged Away

Summary: A young Peter Parker comes to live with Tony Stark. What happens with Tony is too haunted by his past to see a future that includes Peter?

It was eleven months since he moved into the tall building and Peter had only seen Mr. Stark a total of seventeen times. When Peter mentioned it to his nanny, the man’s eyes narrowed for a moment before congratulating him on counting that high.

His new home was huge and every time Peter explored he found something new. His nanny, Mr. Chi, couldn’t be there at all hours of the day and night to look after Peter so sometimes he was left to himself. Jarvis was always there if he needed help but Peter knew the rules. Rule seven stated that if a door wouldn’t open it meant he wasn’t allowed in. That was easy enough to follow because it enforced itself. The rest of the rooms were fair game to Peter and that was all he cared about. So much alone time meant boredom and his curious nature needed to be sated somehow.

He explored methodically, room by room, as the days went and took careful note to remember where he left off so the next day he could continue his way. Sometimes he ended up meeting people in his explorations. They would smile and sometimes, if they weren’t busy, would talk to him. Truth be told Peter looked forward to those times. He couldn’t wait to tell someone about what he discovered.

It was on such excursion that he met his friends, Ms. Pepper and Rhodey. They always made time for him though he knew they were busy and they never patronized him. Rhodey would greet and say goodbye to him with the warmest hugs. Ms. Pepper snuck him treats sometimes and helped him with his homework from Mr. Chi. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was exploring or trying to catch a glimpse of them.

Mr. Chi gave him homework to complete throughout the week and he was by far the person who Peter spent most of his time with but Mr. Chi was not his friend. It wasn’t that Peter didn’t like him, the boy was hard-pressed to find anybody to dislike, but there was a strict distinction between teacher and student. He diligently finished the work so that the man would be pleased with him.

The last person who remained was the one who took control of him when his parents died. Mr. Stark was also the person that Peter saw the least and wanted to the most. He was curious about the man who saved him from being alone. Who plucked him from darkness and took him to a magic tower. His dreams were the only things that were not affected by their new surrounding. No matter how much Peter wished it they were disturbed by shadows and when he woke up, heart pounding and sheets tangled, he was left with a deep longing for his family.

-

It was the anniversary of Peter coming to live in the Tower. It was also the anniversary of his parent’s deaths and Peter was not behaving today.  

If asked, Mr. Chi would say that Peter was an unusually bright boy that, when applied, was a fast learner and overall nice person. If pressed for more Mr. Chi might say that there was something missing when the boy smiled. Something in the way his eyes hardly lit up contrasting heavily with the bright smile on his face.

Peter was not smiling today. He ran out of his lesson with Mr. Chi and, asking Jarvis not to let his teacher know where he was, found one of his favorite closets. Peter sat on a makeshift chair he fashioned out of an upturned bucket and stared at the door.

His head bent forward to rest on his crossed arms and Peter sat there in the dark.

-

Tony Stark’s day could not get any worse.

First a business deal fell apart. Of course, Pepper blamed it on the fact that he was late… and hangover. His life consisted of meeting after one more meeting and his mind was melted by the end of each day so he wasn’t sure what she expected.

All he wanted to do was go back to his floor, have a drink or two, and collapse for the night without any intrusions. He grimaced at the thought. No matter what his instructions were Jarvis insisted on informing him when the kid woke up from a nightmare and contrary to what the press thought Tony had a heart. He could hear the disapproval in the AI’s tone when Tony acknowledged but didn’t move from his floor.

What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t the kid’s father. No, his father was pushing up daisies on a hill somewhere. Tony wasn’t anyone’s father and didn’t know how to be. How could he be one when he never had one himself? If Tony were around more he would have felt awkward living with a child. As it was his own insecurities turned to annoyance at having to curb his life to fit the needs of some kid.

He tried, he would tell us, to welcome the kid into his life at first. The day after the boy came he had breakfast catered. A real smorgasbord spread out on the table for them only to have the boy stick his nose up and nibble at a piece of toast.  

After that Tony let the boy stew and a week later he tried again. This time he took the kid to see a movie. Again, it did not go well and when the boy started crying, Tony realized that a crime movie wasn’t the best way to bond with a five year old whose parents were just murdered.

Frustrated and embarrassed Tony didn’t trust himself anymore but was too proud to ask for any advice. From that point he kept their interactions short and businesslike.

Every time he ran into the kid he was left confused. Tony was sure there was some type of vital translation errors between them because something would happen that would invariably confuse him. It happened last month when he came into one of the kid’s sessions with Mr. Chi. Tony stood at the back of the room shifting his feet back and forth and debated whether Mr. Chi was right. Would the kid want him there? He hadn’t seen Tony yet but was showing some type drawing he finished. Tony felt the breath rush out of him. There on the page was, if the misshapen facial hair was anything to go by, him. He was there with what looked to be all sorts of weeds around him and then in the corner Tony thought it looked like the kid. At least it was small enough. The figures were so far apart though and blocked by all the weeds. Tony wasn’t sure what to make of it but Mr. Chi was looking at him like it was important but he couldn’t understand and Tony fled the room.

He refused to think about why the kid drew that and what it meant, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Why was he surrounded by such dense green and did his facial hair really look that out of control? It seemed like the kid was always around a corner but sadly he was the person Tony saw the most. He sat down at his desk and snorted at how pathetic that sounded. Pepper was avoiding him recently and would leave all their interactions to over the phone and Rhodey was busy with work…or also avoiding him. Tony didn’t know nor did he care. He was fine.

He played with his pen and gazed around his office. On the walls were paintings that Pepper acquired for him. They were neutrals tones, grey and beige, and matched beautifully with the furniture. His desk was the only piece that Tony picked out for himself and sat in the middle of the room. In fact it was something he made from old Iron Man suits that he soldered together. It had thin steel legs that intertwined and twisted under a thick glass top. Tony loved how you could look through the top at so many different angles and not see what was holding it up. Only by standing just right would you be able to see the delicate metal supporting the glass.

Tonight, Tony stared blankly around the room, noticing for the first time how out of place his desk looked. The grungy style of the desk looked out of place among the sophisticated decorations. He sighed and put his head in his hand.

Everything would be fine if he could get some sleep inside of trying to psychoanalyze his furniture.

-

If asked Tony could tell us the name, age, and relevant information recorded on the file for one Peter Parker. If asked again he would flounder and instead of admitting he knew nothing personal about him, would say that the boy didn’t like toast or violent movies. When pressed once more Tony would storm out of the room without answering.

When he walked into the living room of his floor he was displeased to see Mr. Chi sitting on one of his couches.

“Oh,” he said before moving to the liquor cabinet. “You’re still here are you?”

The man sighed and Tony’s cheek twitched. No good had ever come from finding the man staying late to talk to him. Usually Tony was subjected to these little talks once a month. Sometimes more depending on how the boy was doing and Tony hated them. Hated the pleading in Mr. Chi’s eyes when he talked to Tony. It was the same look Pepper and Rhodey would give him and made him feel like a villain.

“As I have recommended multiple times, Mr. Stark…”


“Please, just Tony.”

“As you wish. I have told you, Tony, the boy needs guidance. He needs someone to look up to. Rules and boundaries so he is not walking aimlessly along life’s path.”


Tony snorted but didn’t look up from his glass the uneasiness grew in his stomach.

“And I told you. I’m not the man for the job. I wouldn’t be able to keep my rule from becoming a dictatorship.”
The man across from him shook his head.

“I thought it wise to tell you...” He paused and waited for Tony to look up.

“Yes?”

“You know what day it is.” Tony rubbed his hand down his face before draining the glass and filling it again.

“Yes. Its Friday.” He said with sarcasm

“Indeed, it is and not just any Friday. Peter is currently hiding in the closet on the fifty-seventh floor.”

“Again?” Tony asked.

The man sidestepped his question with a suggestion that sounded more like a command: “I think it prudent if you go find him. Personally.”

Tony swallowed at the hard look coming from Mr. Chi. It wasn’t the first time he’d been subjected to it and Tony was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Resignation dripped from his expression as he wished the man a goodnight. He wondered how well he would have succeeded under Mr. Chi’s tutelage when he was a child.

He started down the stairs forgoing the elevator to lengthen the time it took to get there. The closet was at the end of a rarely used hallway and Tony’s eyes purposefully avoided it as he walked closer. When he stood in front of it he saw the no light emerged from under it. Tony wondered how long the boy had been in there.

Not letting himself be cowed by a five-year-old Tony strong forward and knocked.

“Peter?” He said with no response. “Peter.” Annoyance seeped into the name and infused it with purpose. Tony was wrong. The day could get worse.

“Open the door. Now.” His ear pressed flat against the door and still not a sound could be heard. He paced back a forth for a moment, his eyes straying to the closed door.

“Jarvis. Unlock the door, please.”

Jarvis seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder because without a word the door opened. The light from the hallway flooded into the tiny room. Tony glanced in and saw what looked to be some kind of chair, complete with handles made of old stacked cleaning bottles. It was… resourceful.

He stepped closer and spied a shoe covered half in shadow. Tony followed the shoe into the shadow and spotted a leg and then a small body attached. He lay quiet and still. At first Tony thought he was sleeping, he couldn’t see the boy’s face but he liked to imagine that was all but the boy hadn’t moved when Tony entered.

The ground rushed up to hit his knees and Tony stared at the boy. His hands reached out in front of him toward the small body but stopped before they could touch him. What if he hurt the boy without knowing?

His hands trembled in the air and staring at the child thoughts of his own childhood burst from their box in his mind. Isn’t that the same excuse he gave Howard? It was certainly the way he managed as a child. Howard couldn’t possible have known he was hurting Tony so it wasn’t the man’s fault. It was an accident. His father told him that many times but now Tony didn’t want to repeat the same accident.

“Peter?” He whispered and realized it was the first time he ever spoke the boy’s name out loud; At least in his remembrance. Ironic than that the boy wasn’t awake to hear it. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Faster than he thought was normal. His hand moved on its own to ghost over his pulse. It was too high. Tony’s breath stopped and he pulled his hand away, shaking, as if he was burned.

“Jarvis?” He said not sure what he was asking,

“His pulse is high, Tony. You need to get him to the Medbay. He has suffered from what seems to be a panic attack, again.”

There was that word: again. Like the definition itself, the word kept repeating over in his life and Tony was starting to hate it. It meant that there wasn’t one bad thing but multiple. That the burdens would continuously stack up on each other creating an unmanageable load.

He took in a deep breath and gently picked Peter up before walking to the Medbay. He held the body in his arms away far into the air but his neck bent to look uncomfortable. Slowly Tony brought Peter closer to him and rested the small head on his shoulder ignoring the warmth before picking up his pace.

The nurse on duty bristled when she took Peter’s pulse and other vitals. It was strange seeing the normally active child in bed, still. It was strange seeing him in general. His hair which Tony now guessed was freshly cut when he came to live here was now longer and little curls rested against his forehead. Small freckles lay underneath the curls and along his chin and cheeks. Tony wondered what color eyes he had. Wires wrapped around him creating a strange sort of cage and Tony took a sat in a chair to the side until the nurse came back.

“Alright Mr. Stark. He’s going to be fine. From what we gathered he must have had a panic attack, which caused him to fall and hit his head. It was lucky you found him. I suggest you watch him for twenty-four hours and then check back in. Lots of rest and no stress.” She said, checking Peter over once more before leaving him alone in the room.

Tony rested his forehead on his clasped hands and stared past them to the ground. The sound of the machines whirling and their breathing filled the room and gave the illusion they were the only two people in the world. He glanced up at the boy again and caught the deep circles ingrained under Peter’s eyes. Nobody that young should be so tired; nobody that young should be lying in a hospital bed.

He thought back to the many conversations he had with Rhodey and Pepper. On first meeting the two were smitten with the boy. Somehow they came across Peter and immediately fell in love. They set up some sort of intervention for him complete with his favorite cake but Tony wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t see past his own history to see the possibilities in Peter’s. After their last attempt to talk sense into Tony was met by an intoxication level they hadn’t seen in a while they left him to simmer. They hadn’t been back to see him again.

How was he supposed to handle caring for another person? A child? It was too much and Tony wasn’t ready for it. His eyes flitted to the door; hope building that someone would arrive and be able to fix everything. The door remained closed. Worries and doubts plagued him through the whole night but he sat there next to Peter.

The sun long past disappeared when he noticed the kid’s body trembling. He quickly took off his jacket and laid it over the boy, its length covering Peter’s whole body. Tony wrapped his arms around himself and stayed vigilant.

The renewed sun appeared but Tony’s will remained unchanged. He had no late night revelations about what he should do. Their little hospital room was untouched by anything from the outside and Tony felt as though he aged a lifetime by daybreak.

The small hand twitched and then a groan came from the boy.

“Peter?” He said, tasting the name on his tongue for what felt like the first time.

“Mr… Mr. Stark?” The voice that responded was weak and dry. Tony hurried to lift some water and watched as Peter gulped it down murmuring a weak thanks. He watched as Peter’s head flopped down onto the pillow and turned to look at him.

Warm brown eyes regarded him. Tony should have guessed that was their color, was ashamed he hadn’t known. They were a mixture of many browns. In one corner there were gold flecks and in the other there was a beautiful hazel that reminded him of his mother’s eyes. Peter smiled at him and Tony’s heart stopped.

Thankfully a nurse came in before Tony had to say anything and he took the opportunity to make a phone call. He felt odd contacting someone from work but it needed to be done. He had to cancel the meetings scheduled for this morning. Tony stepped back into the room not a quarter hour later and curled his hands into light fists. He hurried out and went to the nursing station.

“We thought you were going back to work so we had someone take him back to his room.”


Tony nodded and with heavy feet left the Medbay. The air in his office was stale, unused, and he had the errant thought that maybe they had been locked away in that little room for a thousand years.

He sat in his chair and started opening emails. No one cared it was Saturday. There was always work to be done. He worked on autopilot and answered them but the image of the Peter in that closet never was far away.

On more than one occasion he was tempted to see how Peter was doing. In the end he stayed in his office. Tony stayed seated at his chair staring at the beige paintings wondering why, all the sudden, his heart felt heavier and the glass of brandy to his right didn’t comfort him as it normally did.

Thank you!!

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @verdonafrost

Day Eight: Stab Wound

[lairofsentinel]

i'm looking at the stuff you're showing about chile and tbh. i just. why are cops always on the side of the government, and never on the side of the very fucking people they're supposed to protect and whose money is used to pay them. why do they always beat up people. why are they like that in pretty much every single protest ever every fucking where. literally why. (tho yours are especially fucking bad, they sure as hell are using the fact that it won't get as much reporting or punishments)

In a oversimplified way to answer this: because the system allows the accumulation of power and resources of a small group [rich people, bourgeoisie, corporations, external interests, pick the one you want, in all cases, all of them are part of the 90% of the political system/parliament/executive power of the country, so this idea of democracy has always been a lie] and they are  protected by their "dogs" [cops, military shit, soldier crap]. Those dogs are also poor people who are paid to beat, kill, and rape other poor people in order to protect the group with accumulated power/resources.

This show of power is Shock Doctrine in its finest. This is all about keeping the masses filled with fear and paralysed [after all, poor people are a LOT more massive than rich groups and could seize a whole country with a massive coordination of disobedience]. Powerful groups know this. And they FEAR this. This is why they use a lot of money in security that reinforces all types of fears and fear to retributions.Of course, their first step is propaganda.

First, they want you to convince you with capitalist propaganda that this is the ONLY system which gives you happiness if you work hard enough, and "freedom" and "peace" and a lot of crap so you focus on it. You keep breaking your bones with three or more jobs so you can “reach” happiness, eventually, since you are working hard like hell. This system also reinforces the individuality, the self-made man [you need to behead everyone to be successful, no matter the cost] and tries to isolate you [this is why the system hates unions and cooperatives or any action that means empathy and cooperation with others].

A lot of poor people share this idea and defend it. This is explained in a sentence by Simon de  Beauvoir: “the oppressor would not be so strong if he did not have accomplices among the oppressed themselves”. That's why they want to engrave such propaganda in everyone, it guarantees “social peace” at the expense of many many social groups under terrible living conditions. However, things can't be endured forever, and they explode. And when that happens, you need to install fear in the masses, in order to paralyse them and make them betray each other [Shock Doctrine again. Remember this doctrine was crafted in Canada and USA around the 50-60's and applied, first, in Birmania, aka Vietnam with the terrible war there, and later in South America under the several dictatorships in the region.]

Latinoamerica never liked neoliberalism. This is why the Plan Condor was applied all over the region: to force the neoliberalism in all of its countries. Chile could return to "democracy" with a neoliberal system around 1990 [check dates, I'm rounding everything]. Chile was a social-democracy before their dictatorship, so you can see why it was needed a dictatorship with gringo puppeteers that wanted to destroy “the red”.[A lot of people will say it was communist or some other bullshit... “opinions” go wild here depending of how much History you read].

During the terrorism of State [please, don't call it dirty war – a terrible translation used in books of History written in English, NOT by chance--, it was never 2 armed sides in a battlefield, it was the state [army] massacring and torturing its population], the level of torture and the torture systems used and the dire perversion in it that our parents suffered is something that I CANNOT explain [not because I dont know, I read a lot of heavy stuff related to it, and I tell you, it's impossible to speak these things without feeling your humanity breaking into pieces]. It's because it's too horrible for someone who is not asking details. If you read Shock Doctrine from Naomi Klein, she narrates the slightest versions of it. If you want to know about it from raw material, check just one page of the book Nunca más (Never Again), a report of how the Gov. went savage against their own people. Chile, Brasil and Argentina have a book of this type narrating the atrocities that each dictatorship did on their people, since in those countries it was where the dictatorship was more brutal.

What these pacos [these military shit] is doing is just reopening the fear of all that [as you can imagine, this is more than simple fear. It’s terror.]. Our parents are the traumatised one, and all of them are feeling the looming threat that it was supposed to be closed by now. There is a deep deep scar in South America social memory on this matter. and they are using it to spread fear, and also, to revive the old methods of torture that latinoamerican millenials only read [after all, our parents were the one who lived those shitty times].

Police and military never were supposed to "protect" people in south america. They are sustained by the gov. to repress people. They are the tool for the foreign interests and the bourgeoisie to control the massive poor people. I want to make this clear: they never were meant to defend people. Like gringo army was never meant to “defend” democracies elsewhere.

Military here [in Chile, in Brasil, in Argentina] were instructed in the 70′s in the School of Americas, a fucked up gringo military school where they learnt all the torture system that they used back then [they kept using it in Afghanistan and in Guantanamo, so it’s not “ancient history”].  It's not by chance that Chile had been sending military in the last 5 or 8 years to the SCHOOL OF AMERICAS again! [now under the fancy fucked up name of The Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (WHINSEC) . They are supposed to “teach” our army to “defend democracy and life and freedom” and all that shit. You can see it. Lol. No latinoamerican will believe that shit that says wikipedia about them.

So, you can see the context. Military and cops never were meant to protect people. They have never been trained for that. They are meant to protect the bourgeoisie, the corporations, the big companies that are preying on Chile, on its sea and mining resources, on its water, on its mountains.That’s why this phtoshop is so on spot:

Tell a latino that cops protects them... they will laugh [if they are adult enough to understand the dark layers of our History]

[by the way, just to clarify, I'm not from Chile, but the country beside them: Argentina. Still, everything that's happening in Chile is touching a LOT this side too because both countries share the same scars with the same level of dehumanisation [and to be honest, this country has been boiling shit for a long time and it's just a matter of time to explode too]. I'm just trying to spread the word of my Chilean fellows. And considering how their media blockage is working, I'm afraid many people around the world are receiving a gov. version of the disaster happening there. Something that also happened during the dictatorship times, and before anything, I defend human rights. And what's happening there is a total massive violation of the human rights, and opening festering wounds that are hitting us all.]

[warsamongstthestar-keen]

Chapter Twenty-Five

The four continue down the pipe, slowing down to a fast walk, trusting the rest of the team to keep the Imperials distracted. "You're so well organized. To evade the Empire as you have, you must have quite a support system. Good funding, powerful allies," the Senator says, casually.

The Jedi Master, walking behind Hera, squints at the Senator. Even after what Kanan said, he still seems fishy, almost as if he's trying to lure information from the rebels.

"No, this is it. We're all there is," Ezra says, turning around.

Keen smiles. As far as Ezra knows, they're the Rebellion, and up until a few weeks ago, Ar'iabel believed it as well. Then, she met the Rebel High Command.

"You can't be serious."

"I hoped we could learn from you, Senator. Your transmissions have already helped keep us going."

"Just to know someone else is out there has meant a lot," the Twi'lek supplies.

"You bring hope to so many downtrodden souls, Trayvis," Keen finishes off, just as the team arrive at an intersection of pipes, that all lead to a giant fan. They're up on the second level, which means they have quite a jump to the floor of the sewer.

"Come on!" The boy jumps, landing on the floor, Hera follows directly after him.

The Senator turns to face the Jedi, gesturing for her to jump. She just stands there, arms crossed across her chest, nodding for him to go. Hesitantly, Trayvis jumps, screaming as he falls to the ground, landing on his face. Keen rolls her eyes from under the mask, jumping delicately down, as Ezra and Hera haul the Senator to his feet.

"How are we getting past this thing?" the Twi'lek asks the two Force-sensitives, letting go of the Senator's arm.

"We could try to cut the power," the Padawan shrugs.

"Yeah, but if the Imps catch up with us, what's to stop them from following us?"

"Watch our backs will ya?" Hera hands the Senator a blaster, walking over to Keen and Ezra.

The Jedi keeps one eye on the Trayvis, while also trying to figure out a way to cut the power to the fan, and once again start it up once they're through.

"That's enough. We're not going anywhere!" the Senator declares, lifting the blaster, aiming it at the Rebels across from him.

"Whoa! Senator? What are you doing?" The Jedi Master senses fear and nerves from the boy, as he ignites his lightsaber, stepping in front of Hera.

"Put your saber down, boy. Now!"

Keen steps in front of both rebels, igniting both of her blades. She balances on the balls of her feet, ready to strike at the Senator at the slightest sign of him moving for them. "Why don't you put the blaster down, and we can talk about this."

"You're...You're with the Empire?" Ezra asks, sounding very upset.

"But all your transmissions, those planets you visited. How did word not get out about you?"

"Because no one ever knew...not even my own droids. Insurgents are not arrested. They're identified and watched. The troublesome ones have...accidents after I'm gone."

Trayvis is waving the blaster as he speaks, moving between pointing it at the three rebels.

Master Quinara takes a step forward, leveling her blade at the Senator's arm, "I recommend dropping the blaster, or you might have an accident of your own!"

Trayvis turns to her with a sneer, "You'll do nothing to me, you're a Jedi, a peacekeeper."

"Don't mistake peace with security, Senator. I've killed before. You could ask the Inquisitor, but he's dead!"

Ezra regains his voice, babbling, "But you're not a traitor. You're a voice of freedom, a-a light in the darkness like my parents."

"Parents? No one has spoken against Lothal since...the Bridger transmissions. I remember them. The original voices of freedom. You're their son."

"Why? Why?" the Padawan protests, stepping in front of Keen.

"I joined the Empire...like your parents should have...for their lives, for you. Your parents were very brave...and very foolish. Where are they now? I'll tell you, my boy. They're gone!"

Ezra gasps, a pained expression flitting across his face. His anxiety spikes, as the pain fills him, Keen feeling it permeate through the air.

"They're not gone, Trayvis," Hera protests, breezing past both Jedi and Padawan. Keen moves an arm out to stop the Twi'lek, but she just brushes past it, moving closer to Trayvis.

"Stop right there."

"As long as we fight, all that they spoke out for lives on," she stops, standing meters in front of the Senator.

His finger closes around the trigger, as he once again demands for the Twi'lek to stop. He seems confused as the blaster clicks, nothing leaving the barrel for the pilot. Hera doesn't hesitate. She punches Trayvis in the face, effectively knocking him out. "A true rebel would know if he's holding a charged blaster."

Keen almost laughs, but the feeling of Ezra's pain, still radiating from him.

"How long did you know for?" the Jedi Master asks.

"I could ask the same as you. You were quick to start trying to talk him down."

Keen shrugs, "Something was off from the beginning. I had sensed the deception, which doesn't explain how you knew."

She disignites her sabers, shoving them into her bag, as Hera says, "He tried to get us to surrender. He wasn't tired when he stopped, he was waiting for Kallus to catch up. And he wanted our secrets. I didn't want to believe it."

The sound of running footsteps echoes through the pipe, as the rest of the Ghost crew come into view. Zeb, who is the first one down on the platform below, asks, "What happened to the Senator?"

"He was working for the Empire," the Captain replys easily.

"Is there anybody on our side?" Sabine groans angrily.

Keen shrugs, and states, "Yeah, probably, I mean, the Empire's pretty big, and the Galaxy's even bigger. No way everyone is rooting for the dictatorship in the sky, whether they're brave enough to admit it or not. They probably need a shove for the light, something to give them hope," she shrugs.

Kanan tosses a smile her way, pointing the Trayvis, "So, guess he stays here. What's our plan?"

"We were gonna stop the fan to get through."

"Ok, but what will keep our friends from following?"

"Keen brought that up too," Ezra states, helpfully.

Ar'iabel smiles, she had planned to use the Force to halt the fan long enough for the crew to get through, but then there was an attempted murder, and things got out of hand rather quickly.

"We only stop it long enough for us to get past it," Kanan says. His eyes land right on the Jedi Master, and he adds, "Cover me."

She doesn't hesitate to ignite her blades, standing directly in front of the Knight, as he closes his eyes, concentrating on slowing the fan.

"Incoming," Ezra shouts, and the Imperial blasters start firing in their direction.

Master Quinara blocks the blasts coming for Kanan, the others returning fire. "Y'know," she tosses over her shoulder at the Knight, "Sometime today would be greatly appreciated." She can practically hear the scowl Kanan gives her, as the fan slows to a halt.

Hera's order telling the rebels to move is drown out by Agent Kallus shouting at his Troopers, "Blast the Jedi!"

"Yeah," Keen mutters, "Like no one has ever tried that before," as she parry's the bolts coming at her and Kanan.

Ezra leaps through the fan blades, and Kanan, through gritted teeth, growls out, "Keen, let's go!"

Master Quinara turns, jumping through the blades, Kanan right on her tail. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, "That was really close."

"Yeah, you're lucky you have me around, aren't you, Sandy?"

"Some days I'm grateful you're around. Others I wish you weren't here to share embarrassing stories about my Padawan years."

"Oh, really, and what sort of a day is today?" Keen questions, as the team nears their exit of the pipe.

"Today's one of the days where I'm grateful you're around."

Master Quinara smiles, as she drapes an arm over Ezra's shoulder, as he trundles up beside her. Reaching the exit, they find that the Imperials have sealed it.

"Ugh," Kanan moans, "Can't that droid do anything?" He pulls out his blade, cutting through to the other side. The metal of which he carved the hole out of tumbles down just between all the rebels.

Even from the bottom of the pipe, the Jedi Master can hear Choppers groaning.

"Hey, you're supposed to be glad to see us," Kanan grumbles in return. The astromech only responds with more grumbling.

[cthulhudundee]

How sit-down money came to Ramingining

This is a long excerpt (~2700 words) from Why Warriors Lie Down and Die. I expect I’ll be posting some more about this, bit by bit. Hopefully without violating copyright.

from pp159-164

The Yolngu experience of welfare began several decades ago when missionaries and patrol officers started telling Yolngu leaders, ‘You must leave your old ways and come to the mission where you will learn a new way of living.’ [here there is a note indicating this was a personal communication from many Yolngu leaders] These old warriors thought it truly strange that they should have to leave their productive estates and stop trading between clans. They wondered what this ‘new way’ could be.

Out of necessity, some started to go to the missions to trade, staying longer and longer each time. This was made easier by the gifts the missions gave to family groups to convince them to stay. The missions also offered rations for work, paid usually in stick tobacco or cans of syrup. These items became a ‘currency’ on many missions. In some places cooked food was also provided to ‘mission Yolngu’ every day.

This first welfare experience under the mission system was truly life-changing. Missionaries and Welfare Department patrol officers thought they were telling the people to give up the nomadic, hunting and gathering lifestyle so they could learn the ‘work ethic’ and live ‘more productive lives’. But Yolngu heard them saying they must give up their self-sufficient production and trade on their estates to live on the missions and be fed by Balanda. As so often happened, miscommunication got the people into trouble.

Some Yolngu spent their entire adult lives on the missions. They kept watching to see what the ‘new way of living’ entailed. The saw two things:

a Balanda man from outside Arnhem Land – a ‘superintendent’ – had supreme authority over everyone, including other Balanda (even the gun-toting trepangers, pearlers and crocodile shooters);

a new economic order where ‘rations’ were the cornerstone of life.

This left a deep impression, and many Yolngu still believe that the ‘new way of living’ is a political system based on dictatorship and an economic system based on rations/welfare.

After the mission experience, Yolngu had their second encounter with welfare when they received a level of independence through self-determination and self-management in the 1970s. At his time Yolngu became eligible for government benefits. They were entitled to these under Australian law, it was said. But following the collapse of their traditional economic system and then the mission-welfare experience, Yolngu felt vulnerable and confused. This new form of welfare came from the seemingly all-powerful, very rich government and was paid directly to the people. Most Yolngu did not understand that it was what Balanda call a ‘safety net’. They saw it as a further development of the new economic order: the government provided money, houses, wages, everything, for everybody in Australia. This confusion is still the dominant understanding held by Yolngu today.

Once Yolngu were economically strong and self-sufficient. They seeded and traded pearls through Macassan traders that probably reached Europe. Trepang traded with Macassans certainly reached China. All this international trade was lost in 1906 when the Macassans were refused trepang-fishing licences. Now dominant culture companies control the pearling industry. At that time some Yolngu moved into the crocodile skin trade. This too was stopped in 1972. Again, dominant culture companies now control the crocodile skin trade. Virtually the only economic activity that Yolngu have left is welfare.

Welfare is no longer an auxiliary to the ongoing economic life of the people. It has become almost their total economic existence. Even their contemporary calendar they have named (in Yolngu Matha) around welfare payments. They have become hopelessly dependent on the dominant culture and its welfare system.

Welfare – A Yolngu Perspective

So we can see this dependency from the people’s point of view, I want to tell a story. I first heard it from Tony Binalany Gunbalga, a man I worked with in the Community Development Office at Ramingining in the late 1970s.

We were in the office one day when a government official arrived to tell the community about unemployment benefits. The Ramingining Council already had a strong position on unemployment benefits: it did not believe they were right for their community. The old men on the council said, ‘If the young people get paid for doing nothing, it will kill them.’

These men remembered the old Yolngu economic ways and wanted their young people to remain self-reliant, dependent on nothing but ‘their own ability to sweat [work]’. There was plenty of work in Ramingining in those days. Alternatively, the people could paint and do craft work for money (some who did are now the great artists of the area). Also, land rights had made the people owners of hundreds of hectares of land. As the people struggled for greater independence, the elders were determined to keep their young people strong and disciplined, even stopping them from sleeping on foam mattresses. ‘You have to be able to sleep on the hard ground, anywhere, like Yolngu – not become soft like Balanda,’ they said. This same resolve was reflected in the council’s strong stance against unemployment benefits.

The government officers could not believe it was the people’s decision to knock back unemployment benefits. They thought that somehow I was manipulating the council. So a government officer came into our office one morning to work on me. I told him that although I agreed with the council, it was not my decision but the people’s. He kept talking directly to me, almost ignoring Tony. ‘It’s the people’s right to have unemployment benefits and you should be advising them that way.’ he said.

After a while Tony interrupted politely and asked if he could tell us a story. The officer agreed. This is the story.

The Fish and the Shadow

‘A long time ago, somewhere near here, there was a billabong. It was very beautiful, with calm, clear water and water lilies growing across the surface. In the water lived some fish families – mother and father fish, old fish, young fish. They were very happy and loved their home.

‘Every morning the fish woke up and went about their work. The mother and father fish went off hunting for food, working hard all day. The young fish went with them, learning everything they could from their parents: where to find the best food, how to catch it and how to be on guard against sea eagles, ducks and other enemies. Their parents taught them many things about life while they worked together.

‘In the evening all the fish came together and shared the different types of food they had found during the day. They also told stories about the day’s activities. If any fish had done something funny during the day, other fish acted it out, making everybody laugh. At night the fish went to sleep early, tired from their day’s work.

‘The old fish taught the younger ones discipline of mind, body and soul, giving them direction and advice on all aspects of life. The young ones listened in awe to their wise counsel, hoping not to miss or forget even one word. The fish all shared responsibility for life in the billabong. They lived well and were very happy. They didn’t depend on anyone else or leave their work to others.

‘Then one day about four o’clock in the afternoon, the fish saw a shadow fall across the water. Something stood near the billabong. The fish had not seen anything like it before. The shadow threw something white onto the water. The fish saw it land on the surface, sending rings out across the billabong. They all shrank back, fearful as the white stuff sank to the bottom.

‘After a while a couple of brace fish – there are always a couple in any mob – swam up gingerly to the white stuff. They nibbled it, finding the taste funny at first. But they nibbled it again and again until there was none left. When the white stuff and the shadow had gone, all the fish went back to their hunting and other work.

‘Four o’clock the next day the shadow came again with the same white stuff. A few more fish joined in the nibbling.

‘The third day the shadow came again. This time, because all the fish had been talking about the shadow and the white stuff, many more came out of hiding to taste it.

‘The shadow came again and again at four o’clock every afternoon. Now the fish quickly grabbed at bits of this white stuff, trying to eat as much as they could because it was free for the taking. The fish found the taste bland but it filled them up. As time went on they named the white stuff ’bread’. The shadow threw bread to the fish every day, giving it freely.

‘Slowly the life of the fish started to change. They waited for the shadow to come every afternoon. At first they still went out in the morning to gather some tasty food for themselves and returned in the afternoon ready for the shadow. But when the shadow saw that lots of fish were interested in the bread, it threw more and more into the billabong. Soon the fish were not going out in the morning anymore. They just waited around for the shadow to feed them.

‘For the first time in their existence, the fish found themselves bored at night. There were no more interesting stories to tell about the day’s experiences and they were not tired because they had done no work. Many stayed up most of the night because sleep would not come till the early hours of the morning. They started to find other ways to take up their time, gambling and things like that. This caused many arguments. Soon the fish were getting up late but this was not a problem because they only had to wait for a while before the shadow came. The bread was still bland, but it was easy food and the fish had grown too lazy to care.

‘Trouble, however, was brewing. Some fish, completely forgetting their old co-operative ways, raced to get to the bread first. ‘We were the first to taste the bread when you were all scared, so the shadow’s bread belongs to us. You mob go away and find your own shadow,’ they argued. Others said, ‘The shadow comes to our end of the billabong. That means the bread belongs to us.’ They fought and jostled each other out of the way. Fish got hurt, which caused arguments between families. Sometimes these arguments went on for a long time, causing bigger fights. The fish had stopped thinking about each other; they only thought about themselves.

‘Then the old fish became very sad because the young fish had no respect any more. They did whatever they liked, following their undisciplined desires. It was all too hard to deal with. Many old fish became so sad that they died.

‘More and more the fish’s life changed. They didn’t teach their young ones the old ways any more. And they took ad kept the bread for themselves, wanting it desperately, their hearts held by it. Many fish mistakenly thought the bread must be good for them because it made them all very fat.

‘Then the shadow began to change. Usually it came right on time and the fish were happy. But sometimes the shadow came a little late. This made the fish angry. ‘Why is it keeping us waiting? It knows we’ve been waiting all day,’ they cried. Then the day came when the shadow forgot to bring bread at all. As this became more frequent, the fish got really mad, swearing at the shadow and even threatening to hurt it in some way. But these threats only made the fish feel very weak because they knew their threats were hollow. They could not hurt the shadow; it was too powerful. It lived outside the billabong where no fish had ever lived. And only it knew the source of the bread on which they had come to depend.

‘There was now a deep feeling of emptiness and shame within the fish. They didn’t value or even think about anything other than bread any more. They lived badly, unhappily, with their hearts and spirits bound. Their lives became powerless and meaningless. They got sick because of their troubled thinking and couldn’t sleep at night. They had no peace of mind and felt deeply insecure, not knowing who they were or where they belonged.

‘Then came the time when the shadow no longer fell on the water. Maybe the source of the bread had dried up. All the fish grew skinny and lamented its passing, because they were too weak to go hunting for themselves or didn’t know how. They had forgotten the way of the ngurrnggitj (black charcoal) – the time-honoured way of their ancestors.’

When Tony finished telling this story he pointed to the government officer and simply said, ‘And you’re the shadow – get out!’

Administering the ‘Last Rights’

The officer left a little peeved that day, but it wasn’t the end of the matter. The next time the people heard anything on the subject was when six Social Security officers from Canberra turned up in the community. Tony and I were away at the time. These officers signed up the whole community, workers, artists and all, for unemployment benefits.

On our return, the chairman of the council told me the story. He was almost in tears. I asked him why they hadn’t stopped the officials and told them the council’s position.

‘We tried, but they wouldn’t listen’ he replied. ‘They said they were from Canberra and that the government had sent them to do this job and no-one was to stop them. After that we felt we had no power and so we let them do it.’

‘How did they go about their job?’ I asked.

‘It was like the old mission days. We were forced to line up like horses or cattle. The three Balanda men asked all the Yolngu men to line up over here and the Yolngu women were asked to line up over there with the three Balanda women. They had to stay in line until their forms were filled out. They even sent vehicles to the homelands to pick up the people there to make sure they filled out their forms too.’

I asked him what the people thought about it. Some were happy, he said, because the Balanda from Canberra had told them, ‘The Government would give them money every two weeks so they would not have to starve any more’. Others were scared because they didn’t know what it all meant. The old people were worried because they knew the young men and women would just sit down and not be interested in work. ‘They’ll become weak and die,’ the chairman said.

‘But you can get other forms and say that you don’t want this unemployment benefit,’ I explained.

He  smiled in surprise. ‘Can you?’ Then his smile turned into a frown. ‘No, we can’t do that; the young people will rebel. They have heard the words of the Balanda from Canberra and they’re listening to them now, not to us old people. They want the easy money. They don’t want to work.’ [note: Ramingining had more work than people willing to do it in those days – something that had been pointed out to the government officers many times.]

In a way events like this were the final straw for communities like Ramingining. In the years that followed we saw many changes. People moved into town from their homeland estates to be close to the store so they could spend the cash they now had. Alcohol started to flow, with unemployment cheques being pooled and taken  to Darwin to buy grog. Within three or four years, many of the young men who had refused to listen to the old people were dead from alcohol-related conditions or because of fights.

In Ramingining, the first real cases of children with malnutrition occurred within two months of the first unemployment cheques being paid. This happened because people played cards night and day, and when someone won all the money, they took it off to Darwin, leaving the others without money to buy food.

[wtfneopetss]

Masterpost of Padfoot’s OCs

This is long because I have a LOT of pets... So I’m gonna put it under a read more. Including their current customizations/any artwork associated with them. Going to group them by character storyline, starting with my one-offs. AKA not really developed characters set by themselves or with one or two other pets.

Stand Alones/No Real Character Development/Need to work on:

Amethystira aka Sis. Affectionately called my Queen of Bones. Sis was adopted as a baby xweetok and started being trained for the BD back when the obelisk was starting to be whispered about. She had a character along with some other baby pets I had but I scrapped them all but hers, adopted out the three other babies and morphed her into a pirate draik. Then I was sick of looking at her as a pirate draik so I painted her green. Then I realized I didn’t actually like draiks so I started zapping. Then the lab decreased a few of her stats. I didn't want to waste NP so I started fucking around in DTI and customized a Transparent Blum and decided I needed her. She’s also my booktastic books pet and will eventually be my gourmet pet. She doesn’t have an actual character yet, unfortunately. 

Current HSD: 1735 Currently training: Defence, supplementing with FQCs. Booktastic Books read: 138/161 JN Estimated Cost to Complete: 36,760,000 NP

Alaeri. I got Alaeri from Happy Zappers (idk if they even exist anymore, but they were like ZYDP) on April 4th 2013. I really love chocolate pets. Back when Neoschool was a thing here on the Neotag, Alaeri was a small part of it, but she doesn’t really have a character. Just that she’s a laid-back, outdoorsy lesbian. That’s literally it.

Efflie. I created Efflie 5 years ago and used an FFQ on her. I love aishas, I love chocolate pets. Her homepage is also home to the UC Trading Guide /~Efflie. She’s Alaeri’s girlfriend. But she’s more uptight and prissy. And that’s about it for her character.

Axella. I created a custom for a halloween guild challenge and fell so in love with it, I had to create her. I adopted Axella recently after seeing him UFA and shot off a quick NM app. He needs a gender change which I’m too lazy to send him to another account rn, but he’ll get it. Aside from that, no character at all.

Oracle Story Line

Oracle is being totally reworked right now. It was originally a storyline that I worked on with my friend Jezza who had a place called New Earth with her OCs. Oracle was founded by New Earth scientists on a planet far-yet sorta close by- and terraformed. Things went south in New Earth and all communication was cut off from Oracle. Oracle flourished for a quite some time and then had a crash in their stock market which prompted a civil war. When the dust cleared, Oracle was seized by the four remaining wealthiest families who promised to rebuild Oracle into her former glory. Unfortunately, they did not and they split Oracle into four quadrants to be headed by each family. Ravaged by the civil war and now basically a dictatorship with each quadrant ruled by a family, a rebellion begins to form by a group of the citizens, held up by two idealistic young adults. After nearly 30 years of fighting what seems to be a losing battle, these two adults are captured, tried for crimes against the land and executed. Their only child, a daughter who ran away in her teen years, is now called upon by the remaining rebels to become the new face of the resistance and give hope to the remaining members.

I’m reworking this with some friends to be set in a Neopian-centric land. I think what we’re going to do is make Oracle a province of Moltara, since it’s a steampunk post apocalyptic setting, and we’ll work in the Oracle lore with Neopia lore.

Drisit. I’ve had Drisit for longer than my 6 year old daughter has been alive. When I was pregnant with Lily, I got REALLY back into Neopets. I used to frequent the gifting boards back then (they were a lot different than they are now) and at the time, I really liked white xweetoks. So a user, who’s UN I still remember, gifted me Drisit. (I was able to later repay her by gifting her a female rb draik) Drisit is the pet that inspired me to create neo OCs and start doing art of my pets.

Drisit is the daughter of the fallen rebel leaders. As a child, she was trained in fighting by her father and in advanced military tactics by her mother. They groomed her essentially to take over the rebellion when she was old enough. Resisting their demands, Drisit ran away at sixteen years old. She survived on the streets, but just barely. For the poor, Oracle is a very hard place to live. But it gave her street smarts, sharpened her reaction time and many other things. After hearing of her parents death, Drisit returns to her childhood home to find it vacant. After a few days of staying there, mourning, the rebels made contact with her, asking her to return, to be the new face of the rebellion. Conflicted about it, Drisit does return and quickly finds herself as the head of the rebellion.

Symblor. I adopted Symblor from an UFQA board. She’s getting a complete customization overhaul. Depending on how the steampunk aisha looks, she may get that or she may just be painted silver. 

Symblor is Drisit’s right hand woman. She was sold by her parents to a group of bandits at a young age for drug money. After being put through many many horrors she was found by Drisit’s father near death. Drisit’s father was able to essentially keep her alive by turning her into a cyborg. The government that rules Oracle has outlawed cybernetic enhancements so it’s very hard for her to find replacement parts when her rudimentary parts given by Drisit’s father start to fail. She’s terrified of being caught, tried for treason and executed, so she’s mostly behind the scenes. Very intelligent and cunning, Symblor devises most of the rebel attacks/missions. She’s the one who contacted Drisit after her parents death and the two became quick friends. She’s a few years younger than Drisit.

V5S aka V. V was another UFQA acquisition. I love chocolate pets a lot. They’re fun to draw :3

V was an orphan found as a young child by an elderly couple who owned a bakery in Oracle. The bakery was passed down through the family and was once very prosperous many many years ago. Now, however, it is quite run down although V still provides treats when she can through illicit means (stealing stuff so she doesn’t always sell stale bread lawls) V is quite the risk taker and mostly uses her bakery as a front for the rebels to have meetings in her basement. She’s also the one in contact with Ave’s palace being the go between with Ave and Drisit (more on Ave later). She’s also skilled in medicine and often patches up the rebels after a skirmish. Her character needs much development however.

messr_m00ny aka Moony. I created Moony before the conversions. He was always destined to be a werelupe like his namesake, Remus Lupin. I took a hiatus before conversions and came back and unfortunately, had not painted him before then. Eventually I just sucked it up, despite preferring the UC version and made him into the werelupe he was always meant to be.

Moony is one half of a bandit duo. He’s the talkative, charming one. Growing up on the outskirts near the roughest part of Oracle, he had to steal and conive to survive. Although he has a way with the ladies, often seducing them for information, he is indeed very gay. Depending on how steampunk lupes look, he may get a repaint. Unsure.

Trelm was a stuck pet. I adopted him and painted him Stealthy myself. He’s the second half of the bandit duo and Moony partner, both in crime and romantically.

Trelm used to be a wisecracking, never serious, always jolly type. Despite having it hard growing up, he tried to hold onto a positive outlook. He and Moony found each other as young teens, orphans who grew up on the streets of Oracle. The two were always out for adventure, getting into scraps and fights, stealing, all sorts of illicit things to survive. And they were fairly good at it as well.

Until they met with the wrong group of raiders. After a fight that they nearly lost, Trelm had his throat cut and vocal chords severed. With some quick thinking, Moony got his partner to the bakery he had heard of where the  owner was able to save lives. After this, Moony decided for the two of them they were done with their banditry ways and were talked into joining the rebels by V. Trelm is now mute. He’s petpage also hosts the UC/BD trading guide, /~Trelm.

Iramkayim aka Iram. Iram is a funny story. A long long time ago, I came up with a character set in Oracle for an UC Grey Lupe that I was applying for. The owner eventually disappeared and I still stalked the Lupe for years. I saw him on a new account and apparently, the old owner had returned and traded at some point. Into a permanent home *sad face*

So a few months ago, I happened across a user adopting out their UCs. It was the lupes owner! He wasn't one of the ones that were UFA but I mailed the owner and told her I had applied for him and was wondering if she would be willing to trade. Instead, she offered to let me adopt! I was over the fucking moon. I had loved and watched this lupe afar for six or seven years.

Well. Long story short, he was from a compromised account, TNT reversed the adoption and the real owner got him back. Which is bittersweet. I’m glad she got her accounts/pets back, but he was once again in a permanent home.

So I started rethinking things. The character I made was very tragic, which is why I wanted an UC Grey Lupe. They are sad. But then, after thinking about it, while his character is tragic he’s ready to fight. Mostly because of revenge. So I decided on an UC Mutant Lupe cos they’re designs are fucking awesome.

So meet Lieutenant Iram Kayim. Iram grew up in the worst place of Oracle with poor excuses for parents. He fought throughout his life, always in some sort of trouble and as he got older, spending nights in jail. He was ruthless. Catching the eyes of some government officials, he was eventually drafted into their military. Quickly rising through the ranks, eventually, Iram becomes one of the inner circles most trust, often tasked with dangerous and immoral tasks.

Until he meets a young woman, the daughter of a man in the government. Iram falls in love with her, who softens his heart and makes him rethink his cruel ways. Eventually, they have a child, a daughter. Unbeknownst to Iram, his wife is secretly involved with the rebellion, a close confidante to Drisit and before her, her parents. She is able to give them information she learns through her father and Iram. One night she sneaks off to be a part of a raid, her daughter following closely behind her. She dies and Drisit finds Brenna, their daughter, crying over her mother's body. Trying to escape with Brenna in her arms, the two are shot and Brenna dies. Iram finds out the next day at work and immediately goes into a rage, and after inflicting some damage on one of his coworkers, quits his job.

He begins to drink his life away, living in the house, haunted by the ghosts of his wife and daughter until one day, Drisit shows up and offers him a proposal he can't refuse. Fueled by revenge, Iram becomes a soldier for the rebellion and eventually, he and Drisit fall in love.

CountessAvenge aka Countess Avenge aka The Countess aka Ave. Ave was my longest goal on Neo. It took me many years of trading to finally achieve her.

Ave is the daughter of one of the four families. She grew up not knowing the plight of the Oracle people. In fact, the only time she ever ventured beyond the castle gates was the day of her wedding. She was entered into a prearranged marriage to the leader of one of the four families. After the wedding took place in Ave’s castle, she journyed by carriage to her husbands palace and her heart broke at seeing her fellow citizens as she traveled across the land.

Once she reached her destination, Ave vowed to somehow, someway, change circumstances for her citizens. End their poverty stricken lives and give them and their children a future. Little did she know her new husband was a cruel man who delighted in his power. Growing depressed, Ave thought of ending her life since, as far as she could tell, she would not be able to help her people. Until she meets V, who is delivering some baked goods to the castle once a month. After talking in secret, V convinces Ave to supply the rebels with invaulable information.

Ave is the reason I am reworking Oracles storyline to be included in Neopia. Eventually, she meets Elle. Elle is the character my friend Coral has for an UC RG Kyrii she hopes to own one day. The two fall in love and carry out a secret relationship. Since the story is being reworked, I don’t have much info on the two yet, but they are hands down my OTP.

Twins of Shenkuu (and other characters)

These characters are based in Neopia and are RP’d with two of my friends and their characters. We’re working on getting a hub up at some point. There are actually two character groups involved in this, the Twins being the first.

Juni_Kava aka Juni. Juni was the crown princess of Shenkuu. Her father is Princess Lunara’s brother. We’re still working on the lore. She’s the only daughter with six brothers, one being her twin. Chase is the stand-in name for her twin, an UC Fae Wocky that my friend Gromit hopes to have one day.

Juni was born with a magical ability to influence air/mist. She was in line for the crown, along with her twin. Juni always followed her parents instructions, excelling at anything she tried. It was always thought she would become the next Queen. 

Until one day she is approached by the Moon Pheonix, a legendary creature that many stories were told of. However, everyone chalks the Moon Pheonix up to just that, a legend. Kyukuon (an UC Fae Pteri owned by my friend Coral) is the Moon Pheonix, charged with being a protector of sorts. It seems the Guardian of Shenkuu, another creature thought to be that of legend, is dying and Kyu has been tasked with finding the next Guardian. Unbeknownst to the twins, they have been observed in secret for quite some time by Jo, (UC Fae Xwee owned by Gromit) who is Kyu’s apprentice. When the time comes, Kyu makes contact with Juni and explains the situation to her, explaining that she is destined to be the next guardian. Fashioning a secret gateway between realms that will connect Juni to the castle and her family, Kyu convinces Juni to come with her to begin her training, leaving her brothers to vy between themselves for the throne.

AdaWong aka Ada. For generations, Ada’s family is one of the families tasked with protecting the Queen and King of Shenkuu, along with their descendants. Her mother and father are the current guards to the King and Queen and Ada was born at the same time as Juni. Growing up as best friends, Ada’s destiny was always been that she would become Juni’s protector. Eventually being sent off in her teenage years to begin her training, to a very very secret place, Ada and Juni are devastated to be separated. Secretly, they were in love but knew they could never be together due to Juni’s responsibility to the throne and the inevitable marriage and children she would eventually be expected to produce.

When Ada returns to the palace, she finds her friend gone and must make the decision, should she stay and become the protector of whichever brother inherits the throne, or follow her true love into an unknown adventure. Ada’s character has much to be worked on, but I think it’s a no-brainer what she chooses to do.

KittyRTM aka Katrina Rose aka Kitty. Kitty was born into a well-respected, but slightly lesser noble family. The family was known worldwide for providing some of the best produce from Faerieland, but they were most famous for their position in working alongside and assisting Queen Fyora. They were growing strong in Faerieland and were accumulating power through both their high ranking position with Fyora, and their thriving industry, but when Faire's father unexpectedly passed, things changed for the worse for Kitty and her family. Faire's mother had to sell their many farms to keep the pride of the family, the High Garden Estate, secure within the family.

There is quite a lot going on with Kitty’s family and it’s waaay to much to type up here. But if you’d like to know more, I’m currently in the process of changing my former project page for an UC Fae Aisha into her actual character page located on /~KittyRTM. I am very much in love with her character.

The Supernaturals

These pets also cross over into the Twins storyline and are RP’d with Coral and Gromit. They arent as prominent as the above characters and are also their own stand alone group. Many of them need character development.

Stariea aka Star. Star was an apprentice of Sophie the Swamp Witch when she was young and also worked for a time under Jhudora. She ties into the above characters through Sil and Jess (an UC Dari Eyrie and an UC Dari Lupe) that are owned by my friend Coral. 

Star is an exceptionally talented sorceress. She is feared by many, but instead of actually being malicious, she’s moreso out for herself than anyone else. After leaving Jhudora due to a disagreement, Star greatly dislikes the dark faerie and will do whatever she can to disrupt or irritate her. She still has a good working relationship with Sophie, however. Star is accompanied by Bonnie and Clyde, her bearclops. Bonnie was a meowclops and Clyde was a bearog. After an experiment gone wrong, they were fused together. They’re about the size of Jhudora’s pets, Daisy and Sarah. 

She is also accompanied by Bernard, a swamp ghoul she picked up on her travels. Bernard is not his real name, Star doesn’t know it. Although she treats him as a lowly assistant, he is quite terrifying in his own right, but he sticks with Star because she’s one of the few he’s crossed paths with that doesn’t run screaming from him on sight.

Falxo is a necromancer who was captured by Jhudora with the hopes that she would learn his magic. Disfigured due to her many experiments, since he wouldn’t just give up the information, Falxo and Star became close when she worked under Jhudora and Falxo was her prisoner. In fact, Falxo (alone with Sil and Jess, although Star doesn’t like Jess) was the reason Star rebelled against her teacher. Helping the three escape, Falxo opted to stay with Star. He’s somewhat silent and keeps to himself. The two are in a relationship and enjoy learning from one another. His character needs to be worked on as well.

Morovo aka Oro. Oro is akin to a crossroads demon. She’s able to make deals, promising fame and fortune to those that summon her. All she asks in return is something very simple, their soul. She meets Star when she’s summoned during an experiment Star and Falxo are attempting. Her character also needs heavy work.

Solariasae aka Solar. Solar is a young, clumsy witch who hounds Star to take her on as an apprentice. Her character will most likely be further developed based on what happens after The Wraith Resurgance. 

tocanini aka Toci. Toci is a druid who strives to protect all life. That’s literally all I have for her. Sorry Toci. We’ll work on you, I promise.

Spiritox aka Spirit. Yea Idk about him. He’s bad. But that’s all I got. Does magic. Or something. 

Liliaise aka Lili. She summons stuff. Idk anything else. Just that shes gonna be involved with all the above pets. 

Ryzzal and his partner Trikil (more on her next) are also tied into the Twins and Supernaturals through my friend coral’s pirate eyrie, Izi. Ryzzal ran away at a young age from his fathers home due to fear. He’s biologically male but is nonbinary. Fearing his father would find out, Ry left home. Eventually he ends up on Krawk Island, securing a job as a wench that serves the Food Club. He’s the prettiest girl in the room and has a slight fear of being found out to be male, but is generally accepted. Flirting around with the pirates, Ry loves his life. He still needs much development and I’ve never had a nonbinary character, so please don’t crucify me if I write him wrong. I’m always looking to learn more and happy to take critiques and suggestions!

Trikil aka Trikky aka Trik. Trik is an adventurous pirate who is always on the lookout for new treasure and adventure. She’s a regular on Krawk Island, especially since she met her partner Ryzzal, after frequenting the Food Club for fun and drinks. Although she isn’t always around, she has come to call Krawk Island home and looks foward to returning just as much as she looks forward to engaging on her next adventure. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. Her character also needs work.

The Space Explorers

These two are completely on their own, not touching any of my other pets. I do have a slight work around with @grobleen’s character, Cregan and some interaction with my friend Shanna’s space based pets. If you have spaced based pets, get at me! I’d love to expand this to include your pets as well!

Nirohean aka Niro. Niro is a fun loving bounty huntress. She can either be found bebopping around space looking for her next bounty, or stopping in on a nearby planet looking for the next party. She’s talented at her job, but loves having fun as well. She takes bounties that are interesting to her and isn’t ALWAYS on the side of the law, although she tries to be. She’s accompanied by her childhood best friend and pilot, Criliu and her Mechanized Laboratory Assistant Ridgewell that Criliu built for her. Ridgewell is a mixture between Portal 2s Wheatley and Fallout 4′s Cogsworth.

Criliu aka Cri. Cri is Niro’s best friend and pilots her ship. He’s a huge tech nerd and helps Niro with her bounties often by hacking into things and getting her information that other bounty hunters aren’t privy to. While Niro is an extrovert, Cri prefers to be alone with his ship and his gadgets. He’s secretly in love with Niro, but doesn’t know how to tell her.

Exhales Whew. That’s a lot of OCs. A lot of them need a lot of work. But I’m always open to friendships/relationships with other people’s OCs. Feel free to ask questions or whatever else with any of these babs!

[judelaw]

incomplete list of reasons to love Jude Law by yours truly

(that nobody asked for and that got really long ‘cause I have no self-control and just really love this dork) (updated kinda unregularly but steadily) (also I can provide sources for like 95% of these, so if you have a specific question, feel free to ask me)

charity:

jude does an awful lot for charity but my favorite things include:

he got invited by Peace One Day to say a few words into a camera and felt that wasn’t enough so he spontanously joined their trip to Afghanistan, helping shooting a documentary and played a significant role in establishing peace for a day, to get  vaccination and food to especially children, who usually cannot get reached by charities due to the danger of the war zone

he also became an active ambassador for Peace One Day back then and still now, 10+ years later, takes this role very seriously

jude spoke up against the dictatorship of belarus, defending the freedom of speech and of the press, leading to all of his films being banned there

he urged the british government to let refugee children in and personally visited the refugee camp ‘jungle’ several times for weeks to bring the media’s attention to it  

he wrote a letter to the WTO urging them to keep protecting baby seals when the EU thought about giving up the import ban for their fur

he also participated in a project where you pay for the house of someone in an african country and as a reward get shown around the neighbourhood by the person you helped, however the teacher of a near by school heard Jude Law would come to visit the city so she asked him if he would be so kind to make an acting course for the children which he immediately said yes to

jokingly got asked by a woman/fan he just met if he could sponsor her in a charity run and he immediately said yes

when he was working with aspiring actors and directors, who were all children/teenagers for a charity event, he informed himself about their previous and current projects beforehand to be able to talk with them about it and encourage them futher

when he found out about a teenager making a small documentary about freedom of speech, he immediately called him personally and offered an interview with him, making the guy’s life (and film)

he plays an active role in providing free theater tickets to children in Lewisham, London, which is rather poor part of London in which he was born and grew up with, to help less fortunate kids to be able to experience art as well

generally speaking he thinks it’s important to use fame to get the media’s attention to important issues and help to fix them

not exactly a charity thing but he is really polite and helps people a lot, e.g. he once stopped giving autographs to fans to carry heavy boxes for a struggling elderly woman nearby only to come back to the fans once he was finished helping her 

he is such a family man:

it felt completely natural for him to settle down at the age of 19 with a woman who is seven years older than him and already had a four year old child

he bought a lot of his sister’s paintings and hung them up at home because he loves and supports her

he often takes his mum and/or dad with him to events

said nothing makes more a man out of you than when your will gets broken by your 1-year-old daughter

when he is driving alone, he always turns on the radio channel his kids always listen to because it reminds him of them and makes him feel like home

he made his agent angry with him because he turned down Hollywood blockbusters early in his career to have more time for his family

he spends as much time with his family as possible

even when he is in another country, he makes sure they can either fly to visit him or he can fly back home as much as he/they wants/want

generally he just loves the domestic life and being surrounded by his kids, having to cook for them, getting them to school etc

he also really loves cuddling them but respects if they don’t want to

he is (by far) the strict parent because it’s incredibly important for him that his kids have good manners and are polite

still makes sure they know how much he loves them and that they can always count on him if they need his help

missed out one of AGOS press conferences because his 10 y/o son had a local football match and that simply was more important to him

and a goddamn nerd:

he named his first daughter after his favorite author

and is a comic book nerd in general

when he got gifted a copy of the complete peanuts for his kids, he decided to keep it for himself because he really really loves the peanuts

he also has/had a snoopy jacket

and bought a dog sculpture called snoopy

at a young age he already had an ridiculous amount of knowledge about films from the 20s

he got a fandom tattoo at the age of 18

and loves childrens literature

is a huge fan of cartoons and kids films as well

always loved shakespeare, even as a child in school, because the language he used felt natural to him

he once kept his favorite poem first on his fridge and then above his bed

his work ethics and the way he behaves on set are beautiful:

bothers to learn the names of everyone on a film set and is totally willing to listen to them if they want to talk to him

is generally always described as warm and welcoming towards anyone

randomly takes film crew members out for dinner

he was very parental towards the kids in The Holiday, “pop his head round the door when [they] were doing [their] schooling”, chatted with their dad etc.

he and Cameron also made the effort to get the personalized denim jackets made with inscriptions of their names and “The Holiday” and “Hollywood 2006,” once the shooting was over and gave them to the girls personally

he always wanted to be known for his acting not his looks

when shooting the film wilde (1997), stephen fry was afraid his co-stars would feel uncomfortable during sex scenes with him, so jude and the two other actors made sure fry felt comfortable and was at ease

he is always hard working

and does tons of research for his roles and even writes entire essays about his characters

to play Albus Dumbledore, he watched footage of Picasso painting as he wanted to observe the brush movements to get a a good feeling about how to use a wand

jude is always looking for a new challenge acting-wise

and really nervous about his skills everytime he is at a new set so to distract himself he simply talks to everyone

he always panics at first when joining a new project but eventually calms himself down and reminds himself to just do his best

even when he was one of the best paid actors in the world, he still worked on films with smaller budgets that would have never been able to pay him the amount he could demand, because he always cared more about working on projects he cares about than making the most money out of it

other random facts about him that are just adorable:

he pretty much ha sno tolerance for toxic masculinity

jude often spends the weekend on the couch reading and falling asleep a lot

he reads an awful lot in general and often gives book recommendations in interviews (you can find a list of his recommendations here!)

he writes and paints in his freetime

his superpowers in real life are being patient, really good at making chocolate cakes and able to fall asleep anywhere

jude really loves food too (from pretty much every country)

he uses his natural charm to make the people surrounding him feel secure

and often pulls faces in pictures

he is currently trying to learn how to play the piano

and thinks it’s important to be able to laugh about oneself (especially as an actor) and does so a lot

so when he became sexiest man alive, his friends gave him toilet seat with his picture printed on and he kept it

but he always tries to hide his face when he gets embarrassed

he supports equal rights for everyone and is really open-minded in general

jude is interested in fashion but also keeps wearing the same things for like a decade 

he hates people who just throw their litter on the ground because that’s “disrespectful”

and just mean people in general

he is really really warm and soft

he thinks it’s important not only for little girls but also little boys to grow up with films like Captain Marvel so they all learn women in positions of power are right

jude is always up to date when it comes to things that matter like politics and theater but has absolutely no clue about internet/social media culture

he gets really along with children in general

he said romance means an awful lot to him

he has a huge crush is Judi Dench

he is really into spicy found so he pretty much carries a bottle of tabasco with him everywhere to be able to flavour the food he orders like he wants to, instead of bothering the cook about it

he even takes one with him on planes

when asked what he thinks about Caitlyn Jenner changing her sex he said he doesn’t know what to say other than ‘good on everyone’ (after he talked about how he basically lives under a rock and had no idea who she was)

he always has to picture the cardinal directions in order to remember them

and often tries out new things while cooking

jude doesn’t give a damn about what’s considered “manly”

and hates the word ‘bromance’

he is a really passionate person

his voice sometimes breaks when he is laughing

and he uses his entire body while laughing

he respects other cultures and is always happy to try something new

he always stands up when a woman enters the room

jude is incredibly positive and loving

when asked if the world is ready for a gay children’s icon (Dumbledore), he said he thinks it’s ready and that if it isn’t it “bloody well should be”

he never excuses his mistakes or runs away from them but instead admits he fucked up, apologizes and tries to make up for them

his excitement and enthusiasm is really childlike

when an interviewer tried to be funny and asked who he is, he thought he really just didn’t know and replied politely with his name and offered him his hand because he is just such an humble idiot

he once got asked if women need to wear high heels to be attractive (in his opinion), he said that every woman is attractive when she is herself so it really doesn’t matter what she is wearing

when he had to choose a winner in a cooking contest, he felt so bad for the losers, he had to hug them

TL;DR: Jude is a fucking gem, protect him.