#nothing but respect for MY president michael

[kmomof4]

Independence Day - A New Fic by @kmomof4 Ch. 1 July 2

IT'S HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRE!!!!!

I'm a little excited... I know y'all are so surprised... but seriously, I love this movie and I love this fic! It was so much fun to write last fall and I've been absolutely beside myself waiting to share it for the last nine months!!! I'm very happy with how it turned out and I so hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Before we get to the fic itself, I must give shoutouts to a few folks who were very instrumental in bringing this fic to you. My betas @snowbellewells and @jrob64 had quite a chore ahead of them since I didn't want them to start on it until I was finished writing. I think when Joni saw the length, she wanted to stop before she'd even started! Thank you so so much, ladies! I couldn't have done this without you both!! @hollyethecurious was my military consultant along with my dad, retired Air Force Lt. Col. And finally, @motherkatereloyshipper is an absolute angel and was responsible for the manips of Mary Margaret, Will, Lance, and Mulan I used in the artwork. Mulan will be in the artwork on the 4th. Don't they all look great? Please go give her all the love!!

And now on to the fic. It is three chapters covering three days - July 2, July 3, and July 4 - and the three chapters will post on their respective days. I hope the daily word count doesn't overwhelm you too much - I know the chs are long - but I think once you start reading, you'll find that they go quickly. Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I hope you let me know what you think!

Summary: Alien invaders attack on the Independence Day holiday weekend and a small group of survivors are called upon to defend Planet Earth.

Rating: T (mild language)

Words: 9500 of 34k

Tags: Inspired by Independence Day (movie)

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells  @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic

@elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

@suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Chapter 1: July 2 

A shadow.

A shadow moved over the surface of the moon where rested the Apollo 11 descent stage which bore a plaque that read 

HERE MEN FROM THE PLANET EARTH

FIRST SET FOOT UPON THE MOON

JULY 1969, A. D.

WE CAME IN PEACE FOR ALL MANKIND

The bottom of the plaque bore the signatures of Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, Buzz Aldrin, and US President Richard M. Nixon. 

As the shadow advanced over the lunar landscape, Neil Armstrong's footprint - still clearly visible on the surface of the moon next to the spacecraft - slowly disappeared as the vibrations created from the advancing shadow caused the dust of the surface to fill in the bumps and ridges of the mark left by the astronaut so many years ago.

~*~*~

S. E. T. I., New Mexico

Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence Institute

Sean Herman hated the night shift. Well, mostly. There was always more to do and people to do it with when SETI was fully staffed during the day. Plus the fact that he’d much rather be in bed with his wife, Ashley instead of doing nothing but practicing his putting and listening to ‘80’s pop, as the long night stretched out ahead of him. 

He leaned over his putter, The End of the World As We Know It by R. E. M. playing loudly in the background, and prepared his shot. A flashing red light caught the corner of his eye and he looked up, his mouth hanging open slightly as his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing. 

He rushed over to where the music was playing and turned the volume down, his eyes widening in disbelief. A sound not unlike old Morse Code - but much quicker, almost like machine gun fire - came from the speakers and Sean hurried over to the red line to alert his boss.

“If this is not an insanely beautiful woman, I’m hanging up,” the man grumbled into the phone.

“Sir, Sir,” Sean stammered, “I think you should listen to this.” He rolled his chair from the screen to the speaker and held the earpiece of the phone to it, the sound still coming through crystal clear. He didn’t move for a few moments and then brought the phone back to his ear to hear his boss sputtering and cursing. “Sir?” he asked confused, his extreme excitement tempered a bit by the stream of expletives pouring from the chief’s mouth. It took a few moments, but when his tirade finally died away, Sean waited for directions. Once received, he hung up and contacted the rest of the staffers.

Ten minutes later - when the chief finally arrived, his hand holding an ice pack on his head - everyone was at their stations.

“This better not be some Russian spy job…” the chief muttered as he entered the command center.

Billy looked up from his screen and pulled the phone away from his face as he reported, “Guys from air traffic control say the skies are clear.” 

A wide grin broke out on Sean’s face. “It’s the real thing! A radio signal from another world!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here…” the chief told Sean, making a placating gesture with his unoccupied hand. “Get on the line with space command.” Sean’s wife, Ashley nodded and turned toward her screen. “They’re going to want to know about this.” The chief moved toward one of the many screens in the room, but tripped over the golf balls Sean had been too excited to clean up. “What were you doing? Golf balls? Are you kidding me? You’re trying to kill me…”

“Wait, a minute,” Ashley murmured, typing away while she looked at her screen, her brow furrowed in confusion. “This can’t be right…” The room was silent as they all waited for her next words. But when those words came, they were all as stunned as she was. “The calculated distance from the source is only three-hundred-seventy-five-thousand kilometers…” She turned and met Sean’s then the chief’s eyes in turn. “It’s coming from the moon.”

~*~*~

Space Command, The Pentagon

General Lance Knight strode down the hallway of Space Command inside the Pentagon, Commander Arthur King by his side briefing him before they entered the secure area.

“Who else knows about this?” Lance asked.

“SETI in New Mexico, Sir,” Commander King replied, opening the door for him and waiting until he entered. “But they’re even more confused than we are.” 

The men made their way toward the large table in the center of the room as Major Percy pulled out infrared images of some object approaching earth that they were all rather at a loss to explain.

“It has an estimated diameter of five-hundred-fifty kilometers,” Commander King continued, “and mass roughly one-quarter the size of our moon.”

“Is it a meteor?” Lance asked, looking between the two men. They both shook their heads and answered simultaneously.

“No.” 

“Definitely not.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s slowing down,” the major answered.

“What?”

“It’s…” Major Percy glanced at Commander King, and at his sharp nod continued, “slowing down, sir.”

Lance left the table and picked up the red line. “Get me the Secretary of Defense.” He listened for a moment and then barked, “Well, wake him!”

~*~*~

First Family Residence, the White House

The phone rang on the nightstand, and President David Nolan picked it up, a soft and rather goofy smile touching his lips.

“Hi,” his wife, Mary Margaret, greeted him.

“What time is it there?”

“2:45,” she replied. “I know I didn’t wake you.”

David chuckled good naturedly. “As a matter of fact, you did,” he said, his smile still firmly in place.

“Liar.” He could hear her smile in her words, and he was reminded of just how much he loved and missed her.

“You need to get some sleep,” he cajoled.

“I know, I just wanted to tell you good morning before I did and that I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” he replied. “I’ll talk to you later. After you get some sleep.”

“Alright. Bye.”

“Bye.”

David got out of bed and left the room. The McLaughlin Group was playing on the TV as he tied his robe closed and sat down to his cream cheese bagel and coffee breakfast. His perfectly put together - even before six in the morning - Press Secretary Regina Mills entered, holding the morning newspaper just as John McLaughlin posed a question to his panel.  

“President Nolan’s approval rating has dropped below 40%. Is the honeymoon period over for President Nolan, Morton?”

David rolled his eyes as Morton Kondracke, a reporter for Roll Call - essentially a Capitol Hill newsletter - answered McLaughlin’s question. “Leadership as a pilot in the Gulf War is completely different than leadership in the political arena.”

Elenor Clift, pundit for Newsweek magazine jumped in. “That’s the problem, they elected a warrior and they got a wimp!”

“Regina, you’re up awfully early this morning,” he observed as she sat down across from him at the small table.

“They’re not attacking your policies, they’re attacking your age,” she ranted. “Listen to this. ‘President Nolan seems less like the president and more like the orphan Oliver asking, Please, sir, I’d like some more.’” She folded up the paper and shot him a glare across the table. “Your age was never an issue before. Not when you stuck to your guns. You were thought of as young, idealistic…” she continued, her hands waving about for emphasis. “A breath of fresh air!”

“Isn’t it amazing how quickly everyone can turn against you,” he interjected, before taking another sip of his coffee. A staffer entered the room, catching both their attention. 

“Good morning, Mr. President. The Secretary of Defense is on the line.” David stood from the table and picked up the phone.

“Good morning, Isaac,” David greeted. He listened carefully as his Defense Secretary, Isaac Heller spoke. But he still couldn’t be quite sure he was hearing correctly. “Would you say that again?”

~*~*~

Central Park, New York City 

Robin Locksley looked at the chess board, calculating his next move. His father, Marco sat across from him puffing on his cigar and staring at him as if his unblinking gaze could somehow get Robin to move before he finished smoking it.

“What’s taking so long?” Marco asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“My social security will expire and you’ll still be there thinking,” Marco groused, taking a sip of his coffee.

Robin didn’t even look at him. “Do you have any idea how long it takes for one of those styrofoam cups to decompose?” he asked, conversationally.

“If you don’t move soon, I’m going to decompose.” 

Robin made his decision and moved, Marco moving only seconds later. Robin looked up, his countenance clearly expressing his irritation. When his father simply looked back at him, completely nonplussed, he looked back at the board between them.

“Listen, Robin. I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Marco began. 

Robin had a pretty good idea of what his father wanted to talk about and shot him a warning glance before he could get going. “Don’t start.”

Unfortunately, Marco didn’t take the hint and plowed ahead. “It’s been four years, Robin. Come on. You need to take off your wedding band.”

“It’s been three years,” Robin reminded him. “And, no.”

But Marco wasn’t to be deterred. “This isn’t healthy, son. It’s time to move on.”

“No, this,” Robin said, pointing to the cigar in Marco’s mouth, “This is not healthy.” Robin moved his chess piece and looked up, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Checkmate.”

Marco’s mouth dropped open, and he barely caught the cigar as it fell. “What? No! This is not checkmate.” He looked at the board and traced Robin’s last few moves before clenching his fist and hissing in displeasure.

Robin rose from his seat and kissed Marco on the top of his head. “See you tomorrow, Papa.” Marco continued his complaints under his breath as Robin hopped on his bicycle and started toward work. 

Once he arrived, Robin rode his bike in between the desks toward his office. His assistant, affectionately nicknamed Little John - though the only time the bear of a man might have been little was the day he was born - called out to him over the din of an even more chaotic bullpen than normal. Everyone was on the phone, raised voices assuring whoever was on the other end of the line that everything that could be done was being done and that their cable would be restored as soon as humanly possible. 

“Robin! Where have you been?” Little John cried. “What’s the point of having a pager if you don’t turn it on?

“It was turned on,” Robin replied, grinning at his colleague. “I was ignoring you. What’s the big emergency?” He got off his bike and leaned it against the glass wall of his office, then walked around to his desk. 

“It started this morning,” Little John informed him. “Every station is acting like it’s the 1950’s. We’ve got static, we’ve got snow, all sorts of distortions.” The man tossed the Coke can he held into the trash bin just outside Robin’s door and waved his arms around in dramatic frustration. 

Robin shot him a glare and retrieved the can from the trash himself. “We have recycling bins for a reason, Little John! Use them!” He tossed it into the recycling container and sat back down at his desk.

The annoyed glare Little John sent him was so out of character, Robin was taken aback for a moment. “So sue me! Robin, we have a problem!”

“Ok, ok,” Robin tried to calm the extremely agitated man down. “Did you try switching transponder channels?”

Little John’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. “Seriously, Robin? Do you think I’d be this panicked if it was something simple?”

“Point the dish at another satellite, then,” Robin suggested, turning to his computer.

“We tried that,” Little John informed him, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s like they aren’t even there.”

Robin picked up the sheet of paper from the printer and began to look it over, his forehead furrowing after a few moments.

“What?” Little John asked.

Robin looked back at his assistant, confused unease on his face. “This is impossible.”

~*~*~

Imperial Valley, California

Nicholas Hatter stood at the stove of the family motorhome, cooking scrambled eggs for his two younger sisters, Grace and Ava, the former banging the side of the small antenna TV, which showed only snow on the screen. Suddenly an old beat up Chevy truck pulled up outside the motorhome, honking furiously. Nicholas turned the stove off and they ran outside to see what all the commotion was.

“Michael?” Nicholas asked as a man threw open the door of the truck and stomped around to the bed. Reaching in, he picked up a double handful of greens and marched toward where Nicholas and Grace were standing. 

“I’ve got a whole field of rotting vegetables,” Michael seethed, tossing the vegetables to the ground at their feet. “If your dad isn’t dusting my field in twenty minutes, I’m getting someone else.”

“I’ll find him,” Nicholas assured him. “I promise.” Michael drove away and Nicholas turned to Grace. “I’ve got to find Dad. Make sure you both eat breakfast,” he told her. Grace nodded as he ran toward his motorbike. 

Nicholas first sped toward the only bar in the tiny town about an hour east of Los Angeles. When he couldn’t find his father there, he drove towards the outskirts of town until he could see the telltale plume of pesticides falling from a single engine plane toward the earth below. Nicholas waved frantically at the plane. 

“Jefferson!” he hollered as loud as he could. He could see his father waving back enthusiastically before he brought the plane in for a landing. Nicholas caught up as Jefferson climbed out.

“This is the wrong field, you idiot!” Nicholas hollered. “Darling’s farm is on the other side of town!”

His father just stared at him for a moment, rather bleary eyed. He grabbed a flask from his pocket and took a long swig before turning back toward him. “Are you sure?” he asked. Nicholas just shook his head and rode away.

~*~*~

The Oval Office, White House

Regina entered the Oval Office to even more chaos than she expected. White House staffers, Pentagon officials, and members of David’s cabinet were scattered around - some on telephones, others shooting ideas back and forth - the anxious tension in the room so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“We don’t know enough about what we’re dealing with to make any kind of informed decision,” David said, thoroughly exasperated.

“But, that’s not stopping the press from making up their own stories,” Regina informed him, her grim words and countenance getting everyone’s attention. 

“We may need to upgrade to DEFCON 3,” David declared.

“Absolutely,” Defense Secretary Isaac Heller agreed. “Contact NORAD and tell them we’ve upgraded to DEFCON 3.”

Regina moved in close to her boss and whispered, “Are you sure that’s the right plan at the moment? Seems a little premature to me.”

“I said may,” David allowed, his gaze settling on Heller. “Though Isaac is a little too enthusiastic about the idea.”

The door to the Oval Office opened again, admitting two Pentagon soldiers. They approached the President and laid the case one of them carried down on the coffee table in the middle of the room. 

“Our intelligence shows it settling into a stationary orbit,” he said after opening the case so everyone could see the infrared photos inside. “Part of it has broken off into nearly three dozen smaller objects. Smaller than the whole, sir, yet each over fifteen miles in width themselves.”

Silence followed the man’s words until Heller asked the question they were all thinking. “Where are they heading?”

“They should be entering our atmosphere within the next twenty-five minutes.”

The silence in the room was deafening and David’s face was grim when he finally spoke. 

“Take us to DEFCON 3.”

~*~*~

Downtown Manhattan, New York City

Robin typed away on his computer and then hit the print button as Little John entered his office. 

“Please tell me we’re getting somewhere,” he moaned.

“Oh yeah, we’re getting somewhere,” Robin informed him. “The problem isn’t our equipment. There’s some sort of weird signal embedded in the satellite feed. And it has a definite sequential pattern. So as soon as I find the exact binary sequence, then I can calculate the phase reversal with the analyzer I built you for your birthday and apply it. We should be able to block it out completely.”

Robin looked at his assistant amusedly. He looked completely lost until almost the last sentence he spoke, then broke into a wide grin.

“And we’ll be the only company on the east coast with a clear picture!” he exclaimed. Robin nodded in agreement. Little John pumped his fist. “Yes, yes, yes!” Then he picked Robin up off his feet and hugged him as tightly as he could. 

Robin was having trouble breathing but still managed to choke out, “Oof, oof, not necessary, Little John!”

~*~*~

People all over the world - in major cities across Europe, Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and the United States - looked skyward as a phenomenon utterly foreign to all mankind occurred. 

The sky was split across the horizon - dark, rolling clouds lit up from within by fire - until even the clouds were split as a huge object emerged from the conflagration. The object - shaped like a round, flat disc - cast a shadow covering huge portions of each city, as the people poured into the streets to try and figure out what was happening.

Jefferson Hatter sat in a cafe in southern California, staring at the flask in his hand, until the sudden silence around him made him look up and outside through the front windows. He staggered to his feet, his mouth dropping open at the sight. His kids, back at the motorhome, thought it was an earthquake. Nicholas gathered his sisters in his arms and got them out of the shaking vehicle, before staring dumbfounded at the object in the sky over Los Angeles. 

Elsewhere, across America and around the world, children on the playground halted their games, vehicles came to a stop in the middle of the street, people left their desks, their houses of worship, their shopping, their homes, all to bear witness to the sight above. As one, humanity watched and then, aghast and terror-stricken, ran for whatever semblance of safety might be found when their entire world - and worldview - burned in the inferno of the skies above.

Inside the Oval Office, everyone was on a phone confirming sightings of the alien ships around the world. A submarine in the Persian Gulf confirmed two alien crafts heading for Cairo and Baghdad, while the TV showed a broadcast in Russia, panicked citizens in the background, reporting a craft moving toward Moscow.

General Lance Knight pressed the speaker button on the phone and hung up. “Captain, the President is listening. Tell him what you just told me.”

After a moment of static, the captain of a Boeing E-3 on the California coast came through. 

“We still have zero visibility. Instrumentation is malfunctioning. We can’t get any kind of reading on what’s in front of us.” The captain paused for a moment as the people in the Oval Office held their breath. “Wait a minute. There may be some clearing up ahead.” There was a longer silence, until shouts from the plane reached their ears. “PULL UP! PULL UP!” 

In the silent aftermath of the terrified shouts, Lance picked the phone back up and tried to re-establish a connection for a moment before hanging up and looking around, his face grim. “Line’s gone.”

Next to Lance, another general put down his phone. “They’re tracking two more on the east coast. One is moving toward New York. The other… here.”

“How much time do we have?” Lance asked.

“Less than ten minutes, Sir.”

“Mr. President,” Lance said, “I strongly recommend we move you to a secure location, immediately.”

Heller moved toward David to escort him out, but the President didn’t move. 

“No. I’m not leaving.” Heller, Lance, and Regina exchanged stunned and fearful glances.

“We need to maintain a functioning government,” Heller said.

David acknowledged the man with a nod, but still didn’t move. “I’m staying here. I’m not going to contribute to a panic that will cost lives. Get the Vice President, Joint Chiefs, the entire cabinet and move them to a secure location.” 

“You heard him,” Heller said to the aide at his side. “Take them to NORAD.”

“Regina,” David continued, “engage the Emergency Broadcast Service. Advise people not to panic. The best idea right now is to stay in their homes.” Regina nodded and, signalling to two other staffers, left the office.

Silence descended for a moment as everyone had their marching orders and hurried to carry them out. Lance looked at David with a proud, but resigned smile on his face. 

“Mr. President,” he said, “with your permission, I’d like to remain at your side.”

“I had a feeling you would,” David replied, a soft smile on his face as he looked at not only his mentor, but his friend.

“And what happens if they do become hostile?” the General asked.

“Then God help us all.”

~*~*~

Downtown Manhattan, New York City

Robin entered the bullpen, printout in hand, barely registering the voice of General Lance Knight on the TVs that encompassed the entire wall behind him.

“There is no evidence that these phenomena are endangering anyone,” the General said. “Thus far, reports of aggression…”

“Little John, listen to this…” Robin interrupted. “I got a lock on the signal so we can filter it out. But, if my calculations are correct, it’ll be gone in like seven hours anyway. It’s reducing itself every time it recycles… so eventually it’s going to disappear…” Robin looked up from his printout to see no one listening to him. Their eyes were all glued to the wall of TVs behind him. 

A moment later, Little John’s gaze met his. “Robin, haven’t you been listening?” he asked, gesturing forcefully at the monitors behind him. Robin turned to see his ex-wife, Regina Mills step to the podium in the White House briefing room.

“Good afternoon.” It had been three years since he’d seen her in person, and Robin’s heart still fluttered in his chest at the sight of the love of his life. She was the consummate professional, but he could see the strain around her lips, eyes, and shoulders that betrayed to him - though likely not to anyone else - just how unsettled she was. “So far, the phenomenon has not caused any damage. We have to ask you to please stay calm and not panic. One is heading toward Los Angeles, the two on the eastern seaboard are heading to New York and Washington DC.”

Robin looked around at his colleagues, his own alarm reflected back to him from over two dozen pairs of eyes. 

“There’s an old bomb shelter in the basement,” Little John called, “Everyone head down! Walk! Don’t run!”

~*~*~

Irvine, California, suburb of LA

Five-year-old Henry Swan ran down the hallway towards his mom’s bedroom, water gun in his hand, making shooting sounds. He burst into the room where she and her boyfriend were still asleep.  

“Mommy,” he cried, “lookit! Lookit!”

Emma sat halfway up, her eyes stubbornly remaining closed. “It's too early, baby,” she moaned before falling back to the bed.

Killian turned over and pulled her back into his arms, nuzzling behind her ear. “Earthquake?” he asked.

“Not even a four pointer,” she mumbled. “Go back to sleep.”

~*~*~

Washington DC

Six-year-old Leo Nolan sprinted into the Oval Office and straight into his father’s arms as a shadow from outside darkened the room considerably.

“What’s happening, Daddy?” he asked, burying his face into his dad’s neck in fear.

“It’s going to be alright, son,” David assured him as he and the other staffers moved out of the Oval Office to the balcony. The ship above them cast its shadow over the mall from the Lincoln Memorial in the west to the Capitol, Library of Congress, Supreme Court and beyond in the east, encompassing the White House to the north, to the Jefferson Memorial on the other side of the Tidal Basin to the south.

“Now what do we do?” Regina asked from behind him.

“Address the nation,” he replied, grimly. “There’s gonna be a lot of frightened people out there.”

Regina leaned forward, her chin inches from his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I’m one of them.”

~*~*~

Manhattan, New York City

Robin took the stairs toward the roof two at a time as the other workers in the building moved as quickly as possible in the other direction. 

“Robin, you coming?” someone asked.

“I have to see it,” he said, hardly sparing them a glance.

He opened the door to the roof and emerged into the unnatural darkness caused by the ship above. He watched as it slowly moved across the sky - covering the heavens in every direction - until what looked like the center of the craft came to a stop over the Empire State Building.

Robin looked down at the printout still held in his hand.

“The signal…” he breathed as the puzzle came together in his mind. “My God…” He ran back inside and down the stairs to his floor as fast as his legs would carry him to find the floor empty but for Little John who was on the phone with his mother. The TVs were still running with broadcasts in between bursts of static from around the world showing the ships over London, Paris, Beijing, New Delhi, and Rome.

“I know, Ma,” Little John cajoled. “But could you please just try not to panic?”

Robin came to a stop in front of him. “Tell her to pack up and get out of town,” he said urgently.

Little John met his gaze, but didn’t question him. “Ma, pack up your things and go to Aunt Edna’s. Don’t argue with me, just do it!” he shouted before hanging up. “Robin, why did I just send my mother to Atlanta?”

“No!” Robin hollered from inside his office, “Not Atlanta! Out of town! Out of the big cities! Atlanta will be next!” He grabbed his messenger bag and bicycle and hurried back out into the bullpen to find Little John just outside his office door.

“What? Why? What’s happening?”

Robin didn’t break his stride as he moved with purpose across the room. “Didn’t you hear me tell you that the signal was winding down? In the satellite feed? That it’d be gone soon?”

“No, not really.” If the situation wasn’t so dire, Robin might have chuckled. As it was, he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“It’s a countdown,” Robin informed him. Little John stopped in his tracks, confusion all over his face.

“A countdown to what?” Little John shouted as he chased his boss across the room. “Robin!”

Robin finally came to a stop just before climbing on his bike, resigned to explaining as much as he could to his assistant and friend. “It’s like in chess. You strategically position your pieces, and when the time is right, you strike.” He pointed to the TVs. “They’re positioning themselves all over the world, using this one signal to synchronize their efforts. And in approximately six hours,” he continued roughly, checking his watch, “the signal’s gonna disappear and the countdown will be over.”

Silence met his words. “And then what?” Little John whispered.

“Checkmate.”

The blood drained from Little John’s face, his eyes wide as saucers. “Oh, my God,” he breathed.

“Get out of town as soon as you can,” Robin urged him. “Stay away from the big cities.”

Little John nodded but didn’t move. 

“Go!” Robin shouted, finally prompting the man into action. Robin turned to the wall of screens behind him as President Nolan came to the podium.

“Good afternoon. A historic and unprecedented event has occurred. The question of whether or not we’re alone in the universe has been answered. Although it’s understandable that many of us feel a sense of hesitation, or even fear, we must attempt to reserve judgment.”

Regina was standing in the wings watching David address the nation when an aide got her attention, a phone in his hand. “He says he’s your husband.”

Regina’s eyes widened in disbelief, her lips pressed together as she took the phone, a whispered oh my God under her breath emerging from her lips. “What do you want?” she asked as smoothly as possible, hoping no one around her could hear her thundering heartbeat, now for a completely different reason than just a few minutes earlier.

“You have to get out of the White House,” Robin burst out.

Regina turned away from where David was still speaking, and moved further into the hallway away from the other staffers. “This is hardly the time or the place to have this discussion, Robin.”

“No, you don’t understand. You have to leave Washington.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re having a bit of a crisis here,” she said, her voice now an agitated whisper. 

“They’re communicating with a hidden signal, they’re going to attack.”

Regina fought not to roll her eyes. “You’re just being paranoid, Robin.”

“It’s not paranoia,” he insisted. “The embedding is very subtle, it’s probably been overloo...” A dial tone met his words.

Robin’s attention turned back to the TVs as President Nolan continued. “My staff and I will remain in the White House as we attempt to establish communication. If you feel compelled to leave these cities, please do so in an orderly fashion.”

Robin gulped hard as he got on his bike, knowing exactly what he needed to do.

~*~*~

Irvine, California

Captain Killian Jones of the United States Marine Corp woke up some hours later and shuffled his way to the bathroom. Through the window, he could see the neighbors all the way down the street leaving their homes with suitcases in their hands.

When he entered the kitchen, the small antenna TV showed a news report that he still wasn’t quite awake enough to pay attention to. He looked at the screen and saw a map of the affected region with the news person urging people to stay off the roads.

“Hey, Emma,” he called. “The news is reporting on the earthquake. I think it might have been bigger than we thought.”

A small arm holding a water gun snaked around the edge of the door leading outside and a stinging stream of water hit his naked chest. Killian chuckled and grabbed the arm, as his other hand rubbed the spot where the water hit him.

“What are you doing, lad?” he asked, hugging the little boy to him.

“I’m shooting the aliens,” Henry replied, shrugging. He returned Killian’s hug, then broke away and ran back outside as Emma entered the kitchen, pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. 

Killian couldn’t pass up the opportunity and grabbed her around the waist, nuzzling into and then kissing up and down the slope of her neck before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Probably a bit too passionate with Henry right outside. But he couldn’t help it when she enthusiastically returned his morning greeting.

Killian finally released her, his eyebrows waggling at her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, and walked out to get the paper, tripping over Henry’s toys along the way. He stood in the yard and opened the paper before the shouts from the neighbors on both sides registered in his brain. 

“Come on, let's GO!” a man shouted, followed closely by a car door slam. Killian’s eyes cut to the right and left to see what was going on, then looked up to a helicopter flying toward Los Angeles in the distance.  Killian’s face went slack in stunned disbelief as his brain tried to register what his eyes were seeing.

A huge black disc - from this distance, looking to encompass the entire city - hovered over the valley. Killian stared, his mouth hanging open, as Emma ran out with a mug in her hand.

“You want this coffee, babe?” Her words registered, but he couldn’t respond. “Babe?”

She looked toward the valley in the distance and the distant shattering of the mug she had held in her hand reached his ears. Henry appeared between them both and shot his water gun at the ship in the distance.

Some thirty minutes later, Killian came out of the bedroom, in uniform, his bag packed. Emma paced angrily in the living room.

“They can’t do this,” she growled. “You have to call them back!”

“Yes, they can, Emma. I have to report to El Toro.” He knew she was angry, and disappointed - their limited time together lately responsible for their very late night the night before and lie-in this morning - but he didn’t have a choice. Not with the alien spaceship covering the horizon above Los Angeles.

“But you had leave for the 4th!”

“Well, they canceled it!” he shouted through grit teeth. “Look, the Black Knights are the first line of defense against them. I can’t just think about you and Henry! I have a duty to my country. Who do you think is gonna go up against them? Those idiots down there shooting their guns into the sky?” he asked, referencing a news report they’d listened to as he packed.

Emma stared at him, her stance as rigid as a board, arms crossed, the emotions parading across her face going between anger, frustration, and stunned disbelief, all over a layer of unadulterated fear, as he moved toward the door.

“I was a Marine and pilot before I met you, Emma, and this is what it means to be in the Marine Corp. I don’t have a choice,” he said, quietly looking out at the alien ship before turning back toward her again. “Look, I don’t think they flew ninety billion light years to come down here and start a fight, so just relax. I’m going to report to El Toro and find out what’s going on.” 

Killian chuckled when he saw Henry sitting in the driver’s seat of his classic Chevelle convertible - restored by his own hands - as he walked down the front walk.

“What are you doing in there, lad?”

“I’m a racecar driver,” the little boy said before resuming his vroom vroom sound effects. Killian chuckled again as he lifted him out of the seat and gave him a handful of sparklers.

“You be careful with these, alright?” he asked. “Don’t use them without your mom around. When I get back, we’ll go see some real fireworks.”

“Ok.”

“Hold on,” Emma called, running out of the house toward them. “I want to tell you something.”

He turned to her, trying his best to remain stoic, but he couldn’t help the surge of hope within him that she might tell him how she felt about him. How she felt about them. She’d been through a lot in her life, and he’d taken his cues from her as their relationship deepened over the last eight months. 

“What is it, Emma?” he asked, searching her eyes. Her chin trembled slightly and her own stoicism melted into vulnerability and fear before she spoke. 

“You come back to me, you hear?” It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he’d still take it. He knew she cared about him, and that was going to have to do for now.

“What have I told you, Swan?” he asked with a smirk. “I’m a survivor.” His smirk turned soft, and he tenderly ran his knuckles down the side of her face. “I’ll come back to you, Swan. I promise.” She smiled softly in return, and Killian could hardly breathe. “Listen, why don’t you go pack a bag for you and Henry and come stay with me at the base?”

The smile on her face was a mixture of joy and stunned surprise. “You’d do that? Really?”

His cocky Captain’s persona slipped into place with her question, masking his own vulnerability and fear of rejection in making the offer in the first place. “Well, I’ll just have to tell all my other girlfriends…”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she interrupted, grabbing his tie and pulling him to her for a passionate kiss.

“Why, Swan,” he said, waggling his brows, his grin full of joy when she finally released him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous over you?” she asked, scoffing, with a roll of her eyes. “Pfft… you with those elf ears.” Her words were laced with affection as she stroked the tip of one, but then her countenance turned mischievous and smug. “But you are not as charming as you think you are, sir.”

He smirked and waggled his brows at her again. “Yes, I am.” Then he hauled her to him and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

~*~*~

The Bronx, New York City

Robin wove his bike in between the stopped and abandoned cars that littered the street. His father’s neighbors were in full blown panic mode, running down the street, their arms filled with everything they could carry. He took the steps up to his Papa’s front door two at a time and banged as hard as he could. Only a moment later, Marco threw open the door, a shotgun in his hand. Robin grabbed it.

“Papa?!” he shouted.

“They’re nothing but hoodlums!” Marco shouted right back, poking his head out and turning left and right, looking for whoever might be coming after him next.

“Do you still have the Plymouth?” Robin asked him.

That got his Papa’s attention. “You want to borrow the car?” he asked, completely dumbfounded. “You don’t have a license.”

“You’re driving. Let’s go!”

~*~*~

David sat down on the bed as the line connected him to Mary Margaret. 

“I really want you out of LA.” He didn’t have time for niceties, but he also knew his wife, who did not like to be told what to do. Even in a situation like this. His chances were maybe slightly better than half that she’d just do what he wanted her to do without questioning.

“You’re doing the right thing staying there as a calming presence,” she said, loyally. “I’m behind you 100%.”

“I appreciate you’re trying to help me,” he said, keeping his voice calm, though he was afraid he couldn’t completely hide his frustration from his beloved wife.

“Liar,” she accused, without heat. “Stick with the truth, it's what you’re good at.”

Her spirit made him smile. “Ok, I’ll tell you the truth,” he said. “I don’t want you anywhere near any of those cities.”

Mary Margaret sighed and stopped her pacing.“I’ll leave as soon as the interviews are done.”

“Thank you,” he said. “There’s a helicopter waiting to take you to Nellis. In Vegas.”

“And Leo?”

“He’s going to meet you there.”

“Alright,” she said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

~*~*~

For some reason, the interstate heading south toward Washington DC was completely clear while the opposite direction was bumper to bumper traffic. Robin’s gaze bounced between the road ahead of them and his father, going a full ten miles an hour below the posted speed limit. 

“It’s the White House!” Marco exclaimed. “You can’t just drive up and ring a bell. It’s the president, my boy!”

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Robin asked. Marco carried on his monologue as if he hadn’t even spoken. 

“You think they don’t know what you know? Believe me, they know. They know everything.”

“They don’t know this…” Robin murmured.

“Ohhhh, you’re going to enlighten them…” Marco said, a hint of condescension coloring his words. “Tell me, if you’re so smart, how do you spend eight years at MIT to become a cable repairman? If they want HBO, they’ll call you.”

“Can’t you drive any faster?” Robin was having trouble keeping still, his own leg itching to hit a gas pedal that wasn’t there.

“I can’t go any faster, they’re cutting me off here!” Marco said, gesturing to the other cars around them.

“No one’s cutting you off!” Robin nearly shouted. “Nevermind, I don’t want to argue. Just get there! As quickly as possible.” He covered his eyes, hoping his blindness to how slowly they were moving would help lower the tension inside of him.

“What?” Marco asked, not a hint of sarcasm in his words. “You think we’ll get to Washington and it won’t be there?” 

Robin looked over at his father incredulously. Yeah, Papa, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

~*~*~

Imperial Valley, California

Nicholas, Grace, and Ava Hatter stared at the TV - various looks of shock and dismay on their faces - as they watched the police lead their father away from City Hall where he’d been arrested for dropping leaflets from his plane and then disturbing the peace by yelling at passers by about the alien invasion. 

“We’ve got to stop them!” he shouted into the camera. His eyes were bloodshot and crazed and Nicholas could do nothing but shake his head. “I was kidnapped by aliens ten years ago. They’ve been studying us for years! Finding out our weaknesses. We’ve got to stop them!”

Nicholas couldn’t watch any more. He stood up and snapped the TV off. “Come on, we’re leaving.” He settled himself into the driver’s seat of the motorhome and cranked it up. As he was pulling away from the camp, a pickup truck stopped and a very familiar silhouette staggered out of the passenger seat.

“You read my mind!” Jefferson hollered, flagging down his son. “We have to get as far away from these things as we can.”

Nicholas climbed out, not believing what his eyes were seeing. “They let you out?”

“You’d better believe it,” Jefferson answered, looking to the sky. “They have much bigger fish to fry right now! Let��s go!” He patted Nicholas on the shoulder and they both climbed back in the motorhome.

~*~*~

Squadron 314 The Black Knights Headquarters

El Toro Marine Base, California

Killian entered the squadron headquarters to find all his fellow pilots surrounding the TV. He found his best friend, Will Scarlet and tapped his shoulder, getting the man’s attention.

“I think we can do something better with our time, gentlemen,” Killian called out before heading towards his locker. When he arrived, he found an envelope sticking out. He turned it over and caught his breath. It was from NASA.

“Oh, no, no, no…” he all but moaned, handing it to Will. “I can’t do it… You’ll have to do the honors.” He turned his back to his locker and leaned up against it, not sure his legs were going to be able to hold him up. No matter what the official letter said.

“You wuss,” Will teased.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just read it.”

“It says, Captain Killian Jones, loser.” His tone was playful and teasing as his friend pointed his finger at him. Killian banged his head against the locker behind him. “United States Marine Corp, blah blah blah blah,” he continued, before his tone turned abruptly serious and despondent. “We regret to inform you that in spite of your excellent service record…” 

Killian blew out his held breath and turned around to his locker, trying desperately to blink away the tears that threatened to spill. 

“I’m sorry, man,” Will sympathized. 

Killian opened his locker and glanced at the picture of the flag on the moon inside the door. All he’d ever wanted to be was an astronaut, and this morning, that dream seemed as unreachable as the moon itself.

“You know what you need to do?” Will asked, some of his cheeky spunk back in his words. “You need to kiss some serious booty to get ahead in this world. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Killian glanced over his shoulder to see Will getting down on one knee behind him. Killian rolled his eyes. “See, for me, I like the one knee approach. It puts the booty right in the perfect position…” 

Killian reached into his locker and a small box fell out. Will grabbed it, being closer to the floor, before Killian could make any move to pick it up. As Will opened it up, Killian scratched behind his ear in nervousness. 

“This is a wedding ring,” Will said, holding it in both hands, his eyes wide. He looked every inch the man proposing to his love as he held the box up toward Killian.

He took the box from his friend and stared down at the ring inside - a cluster of diamonds making up the body of a swan and a half-carat solitaire nestled in the curve of its golden neck. “I’ve been looking for months for a ring,” he murmured quietly, “But there was nothing out there… that was just her, you know? Nothing was exactly right. So, I designed this and had it made. I thought she’d like it.”

Will stood up and put his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “She’ll love it, man. You know I like Emma,” he said after pausing for a moment, no hint of teasing in his tone. “You know that, right? But, Killian, you are never going to fly the space shuttle if you marry a stripper.”

~*~*~

Robin could see the Capitol Building and Washington Monument in the distance as they drove into Washington, the familiar spectre of the alien ship hovering over the city. The northbound lanes of the interstate were bumper to bumper and unmoving, people abandoning their vehicles, taking everything they could carry with them, walking and running along the median. 

Robin pulled his laptop out of his messenger bag and opened it. 

“What are you doing?” Marco asked as Robin started typing.

“Regina always has her portable phone listed for emergencies.” Marco’s gaze bounced between his son and the road ahead as he typed in R. Mills, Q. Mills, EQ Mills.

“EQ?” he asked.

“Evil Queen,” Robin said, a smirk on his face as he remembered. “It was her nickname in college.”

“Did you try Locksley?” Marco asked.

Robin turned disbelieving eyes on his father. “She didn’t take my name when we were married,” he said. “What makes you think she’d be listed that way now?”

“Just try it,” he urged.

Not having anything to lose, Robin typed in R. Locksley, then EQ Locksley when that didn’t work. Regina’s number suddenly appeared on the screen and Robin looked over at his Papa, who looked quite smug. 

“So what do I know?” he asked his son.

They pulled up outside the gate of the White House, driving slowly to avoid all the protesters. Robin called Regina’s number and blew out a frustrated breath when he was met with a busy signal. He reached into his bag and pulled out a handy little gizmo that he affixed to the top of the Plymouth.

“She’s using the phone,” Robin murmured. “With this, I’ll use her signal to triangulate her exact position in the White House.

“You can do that?” Marco asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Robin replied. “All cable repair men can, Papa.”

In the hallway outside the Oval Office, Regina hung up her phone and immediately it rang again. 

“Don’t hang up, sweetheart.”

“Robin!” she exclaimed in a whisper. “How did you get this number?”

“Look out the window.”

Regina moved toward the window at the end of the hall and pulled back the draperies. “What am I looking for?”

“See us?” Robin asked, waving as soon as he saw her beautiful face in the window.

“How does he do that?” she mumbled to herself.

~*~*~

Regina led Robin and Marco into the Oval Office.

“He’s not going to be happy to see you,” she said with a shrug.

“Then we’re wasting our time,” Robin replied. “You have the information, you can tell him.”

“You need to be the one to tell him,” she insisted. “You’re the expert.”

“Why won’t he be happy to see you?” Marco asked.

Not taking his eyes off Regina, Robin answered his father. “The last time he saw me, I might have punched him,” he said, pursing his lips and shrugging.

Marco’s eyes widened in surprised horror. “You punched the President?”

“He wasn’t the president at the time.” Robin did his best to downplay what had happened and refute Marco’s conclusion, but there really wasn’t any way around it.

“Why did you punch the President?”

“It’s not like that, Papa! He punched me back! It was a fight!”

“A fight that you started,” Regina reminded him before turning back to Marco. “Because he blamed David for me… for the breakup… for the divorce,” Regina stammered. “I’m going to get him. Don’t touch anything.”

“You punched the President?” Marco asked again as soon as she’d left the room.

Robin sighed in acquiescence. “I punched the President, Papa.”

Regina entered the cabinet room where David and the rest of the staff watched as reporters filled the screen and helicopters prepared to take off in an attempt to communicate with the alien ships. 

“Since we have been unable, so far, to communicate with our visitors,” the announcer began, “these Skylift helicopters have been retrofitted with a visual communication device.” 

“They’re just about to lift off,” Lance informed Regina as she moved quickly towards David and leaned over, whispering in his ear.

“I need you to come with me,” she said.

The broadcast continued in the background. “Welcome Wagon is in the air.”

David turned toward her, confusion in his eyes. “Now?”

“Roger, Welcome Wagon. Echo One, right beside you,” a voice came over the broadcast.

Regina nodded and motioned the President to follow her before turning and leaving.

David looked back to the screen and then got to his feet and followed her out.

“You’re leaving now?” Isaac asked. David ignored him and left the room.

~*~*~

Robin was typing away on his laptop when President Nolan and Regina walked in.

“I don’t have time for this,” the President snapped, turning back towards the door of the Oval Office.

It only took Marco a moment to approach the President, hand outstretched, while Regina crossed to Robin as he frustratedly closed his laptop.

“Mr. President, Mr. President,” Marco began, “Marco Locksley, Robin is my son…”

“I told you he wouldn’t listen to me,” Robin said, coming to meet Regina in front of the desk.

“You have to tell him now,” she insisted.

“Regina,” David’s voice contained a warning that she ignored, her voice raised above them all, silencing everyone. 

“Robin, tell him!”

Robin cut his eyes over to the President, who stood, warily eyeing him, his hands on his hips.

“I know why we have satellite disruption.”

Cautious attentiveness sparked in David’s eyes as he took a step closer to where Robin stood.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m listening. Go ahead.”

Robin grabbed a sheet of White House stationary from the desk and turned it over, drawing a rough image of the situation facing them - earth in the middle with three large objects forming a sort of triangle around their celestial home.

“Let’s say that you wanted to communicate with spaceships on opposite sides of the planet.” He drew straight lines from the apex of the triangle, missing the earth and the objects forming the two bottom angles, then held up the paper for David to see. “You couldn’t send a direct signal.”

“You’re talking about line of sight,” David said, nodding in understanding and taking a step closer.

 “Right,” Robin replied. “The curve of the earth prevents it. You’d have to bounce the signal off satellites to reach your other ships.” He drew satellites in position and then drew straight lines from the satellites to the two space ships on the other side of Earth and held it up again for David to see. “Well, I found a signal hidden inside our own satellite system. They’re using that to communicate.”

Everyone was silent as the implication became crystal clear. 

“They’re using our own satellites against us,” Robin continued. He opened his laptop and turned it around so they could all see the descending countdown which now read 27:59. “And the clock is ticking.”

~*~*~

David burst back into the cabinet room, barking orders. 

“General Knight, coordinate with Atlantic Command to evacuate the cities. As many people as they can.”

“Yes, sir,” the General replied, before picking up the phone in front of him.

David pointed at the screen. “Get those helicopters away from the ship. Call them back immediately. Johanna,” he continued, turning to the woman standing behind him, “my son.” She nodded and hurried away.

“What the hell’s going on?” Isaac asked.

“We’re leaving,” David informed him and the rest of the staffers scattered around the room.

Suddenly, from the TV, they heard the pilot of the helicopter speak. “Something’s happening.”

“They’re responding,” Isaac repeated, excitedly. They all stopped what they were doing and watched as an ice blue light could be seen in the opening crack across the middle of the ship.

“There’s some kind of activity here,” the pilot said. “Something is opening.”

From the other helicopter, they heard another voice. “We see it, too. Can’t identify it.”

Suddenly a beam of light came from the ship and the hovering helicopters burst into flames. Horrified silence filled the room before everybody moved towards the door, the announcer in the background expressing condolences to the families of the fallen soldiers.

It took only minutes for the President - holding his son - Regina, Lance, Robin, and Marco to emerge into the night to the waiting helicopters, followed closely by several Secret Service agents.

“We are evacuating,” one of the agents reported into his earpiece. “I repeat, we are evacuating the White House.” 

“Is my wife in the air?” David asked as he strapped himself and his son in their seats.

“She will be shortly,” Lance replied, doing the same.

As soon as Robin was strapped in, he opened his laptop. The countdown showed 9:11.

On the other side of the country, First Lady Mary Margaret Nolan stopped just before climbing into the waiting helicopter and turned toward a nearby skyscraper with people on top welcoming the alien ship. They were in a frenzy of ecstatic joy and couldn’t be bothered to obey the police helicopter circling ordering them to disburse. She couldn’t turn away from the scene, having a pretty good idea of what was about to happen.

“Mrs. Nolan,” the Secret Service officer called, carefully grabbing her arm to get her to move, “the President has ordered our evacuation.” 

“Yes, of course,” she agreed, turning once more toward the helicopter.

The moment Mary Margaret was strapped in, the agent closed and locked the door before speaking into his earpiece. “The First Lady is secure. We’re on the move.”

Emma and Henry Swan were stuck in standstill traffic in the Second Street Tunnel trying to get out of LA. Emma glared at the radio as the announcer informed the public that the authorities had called for a complete evacuation of Los Angeles County and to avoid the highways wherever possible.

“Great,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Now he tells me.”

Around the world, people in the cities directly underneath the spaceships saw what could only be described as a blooming flower as the ships opened up from the center, the unfurling arms looking like petals opening to the sun. An otherworldly blue light shone down on the earth beneath the craft, completely covering the largest and most prominent cities across the globe. 

At Joint Base Andrews in Maryland, David and the others disembarked from Marine 1 to load Air Force 1. Everyone rushed to a seat and strapped in. The moment Robin buckled his seatbelt, he opened the laptop. 

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

0.

“Checkmate,” Robin breathed.

Air Force 1 taxied down the runway, as a beam of blue light shot down from the alien ship to the White House. The resulting fireball chased Air Force 1 into the air, everyone inside the aircraft holding their breath and gripping their arm rests, absolutely terrified. The lights inside the plane flashed and the rattle from the vibrations of the explosion had more than one person breathing a prayer to God above to keep them safe. Would the flames reach them? Would they make it out alive?

Still sitting inside the tunnel, Emma became aware of people running past her classic yellow bug. She looked in her rearview mirror, to see nothing but fire coming at them. She turned around - just to see it with her own two eyes - before she scrambled out and grabbed Henry from his booster in the back seat. Holding him to her, she joined the other people and ran as fast as she could, in and out and between abandoned vehicles, until she caught sight of a utility closet in the wall of the tunnel. She ran toward it and kicked the door in - a flying motorcycle just missing them as they ducked inside the small closet - the fireball passing them by. 

Then there was silence.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! July 3 will be up in the morning!

[therealsaintscully]

The year is 2025, and here I am, still very troubled about BBC Sherlock. Now, it's been a while since I wrote any Sherlock meta, but there's something that's been bugging me, and I’d love to get people’s input and thoughts.

I'm a screenwriter—not a professional one, but an autodidact. I haven’t had anything produced, but I have written several original screenplays. One of the most basic things you learn as a writer in general, and especially in screenwriting, is the concept of the character arc. It’s the art of starting a character off as one thing, taking them through a process of deconstruction or challenge, and letting them emerge as something different.

An exercise I enjoy is watching films or TV shows and analysing a character’s arc. I try to spot hints of how a character will change by the end of an episode, a season, or the entire series. That’s part of why I particularly love Michael Schur’s shows—Parks and Recreation, The Office, Brooklyn Nine-Nine. In the Michael Schur universe, character arcs are blatantly laid out for you in the pilot episode. There’s absolutely no need to philosophize or guess: the characters often state it themselves, or it’s clearly expressed through others.

Take, for example, Michael Scott.

In the Office pilot, he’s genuinely a terrible boss and a trashcan of a person. But we’re immediately shown his arc via one simple prop: a coffee mug. “World’s Best Boss.” That’s his journey—to become that boss, if not in the world, then at least in Dunder Mifflin.

Or take Jake Peralta. In B99’s pilot, Terry introduces the squad to Captain Holt with:

“Jacob Peralta is my best detective — he likes putting away bad guys, and he loves solving puzzles. The only puzzle he hasn’t solved… is how to grow up.”

From that alone, you know where Jake is headed. By the end of the show, he’ll still be the squad’s best detective, but he’ll also be a grown-up: a dad, a partner, someone who takes his job seriously and earns the respect of his captain.

In the Parks and Rec original pilot script, Leslie outright declares that she’ll be America’s first female president. In the aired pilot, the message is softened a bit when Leslie says:

“You know, government isn’t just a boy’s club anymore. Women are everywhere. It’s a great time to be a woman in politics. Hillary Clinton, Sarah Palin, me.”

There it is: Leslie’s arc will involve her rising through the boys’ club of American politics and becoming a truly great public servant (and maybe—even if it’s never clearly stated—the first female president).

So now that I’ve set the scene a bit—understanding how a character arc is seeded in a pilot—let’s talk about Sherlock.

What are we told about John and Sherlock in the pilot that sets up their character arcs?

Let’s start with Sherlock, because that one is spoon-fed to the audience—by none other than Lestrade. In response to John’s question, “Why do you put up with him?”, Lestrade says:

“Because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think, one day, if we’re very, very lucky, he might even be a good one.”

That’s it. That’s Sherlock’s arc. The writers are telling us outright: here’s a brilliant but emotionally disconnected man. And the journey ahead of him isn’t about intellect, but about goodness. About connection, humanity, compassion. Becoming not just great, but good. And, if I might add a bit of Johnlock, not just to anyone—but through John, with John, and ultimately because of John.

Now, John’s arc is a little less obvious in my opinion, though just as important—and it’s given to us by Mycroft, who says:

“You’re not haunted by the war, Dr. Watson—you miss it.”

To me, this says: here is a traumatized soldier who never fully came back from war. He’s unmoored, disconnected, half-alive. "Nothing ever happens to me." And the arc we should expect? A man who, over time, things happen to him and he finds peace. Who finds meaning in his civilian life—back in London, in friendship, in purpose, in (perhaps) love. Who, by the end of the series, no longer misses the war.

That’s the setup. That’s what we were promised. Or at the very least, that's what I feel I was promised.

Only… whatever I feel was promised never actually happened.

In fact, Sherlock ends up delivering the complete opposite. In Seasons 3 and 4, the show leans into Sherlock as a mythic, near-supernatural figure—the “adult who never was a child.” This directly contradicts the idea of humanising him. The sudden introduction of Eurus shifts the focus from internal growth to external spectacle. His evolution becomes a reaction to trauma, not a conscious transformation toward goodness.

By the end of The Lying Detective, Sherlock is still fundamentally isolated and emotionally unavailable. Despite supposedly learning to “connect,” he doesn’t share emotionally in any meaningful way—not with John, not with Eurus, not with Molly. The “I love you” scene is a puzzle to be solved, not a moment of genuine vulnerability. John and Sherlock’s confrontation at the end of TLD achieves absolutely nothing in terms of their openness or intimacy.

Sherlock's arc—of becoming a good man—is never achieved. Now, we can argue about that, because Sherlock is a softie at times. He is kind. And don’t get me wrong—when Michael Scott leaves Dunder Mifflin, he’s by no means a perfect boss. But he’s loved by Pam, he’s missed by Jim, and the Dunder Mifflin team has learned to respect him in their own way.

I know some of you are itching to shout that Sherlock's arc won't be complete without S5 and in theory, I agree! But! Lest we forget, Lestrade’s “prophecy” (supposedly) comes full circle in The Final Problem:

"No, he’s better than that. He’s a good one."

This, supposedly, is the great moment of The Payoff. Here stands Sherlock, A Good Man™.

Which… always makes me scratch my head.

Is he, Lestrade? Really? What is it, exactly, in those last few days that convinces you of that? What moment between The Six Thatchers and The Final Problem gives you that impression?

Nothing. Really—nothing. This, for me, is absolutely zero character arc payoff.

Now, what about John—who was supposed to come back from the war, or at most, get his adrenaline kicks chasing criminals with Sherlock through the streets of London?

Mary’s death completely hijacks John's growth as a character. Rather than showing John finding stability in his marriage and family (or with Sherlock, in whatever shape that takes), the show strips it all away. And worse, it distances him from Sherlock once more—throwing him into another spiral of guilt and rage, effectively rebooting his trauma rather than resolving it.

The finale gives John no closure. We don’t know where John is emotionally by the end of The Final Problem. Is he at peace? Are we supposed to believe that a happy montage fixes everything? Does he still crave danger? Does he still feel violent impulses toward Sherlock?

I can’t even begin to think when or how Mycroft’s seed of John’s arc—“you miss the war”—comes full circle in The Final Problem. Unlike Lestrade’s line about Sherlock, there’s nothing that brings that theme to any kind of resolution. It’s as though Moftiss forgot to give John a conclusion altogether.

I’ve sometimes wondered if Sherlock’s words to John in TLD—“We might all just be human”—were meant to gesture at John’s arc. But… why would it?

John never struggled to understand that he was human. That wasn’t his arc. That wasn’t his flaw. He knew he was human and he always craved for that humanity from Sherlock. So what, then, was that line supposed to resolve?

I can play devil's advocate here. Character arcs can be negative. A character doesn't always have to have a happy ending, and had Moftiss boldly done that, I would have appreciated it. But they hadn't- they give us a weird ass montage with John and Sherlock happily giggling at Rosie. It's just feels like there's absolutely no conclusion for John, whether negative or positive.

Adding insult to injury, Mary’s 'speech' during the final montage is actually dismissive of their "growth":

“There are two men sitting arguing in a scruffy flat. Like they’ve always been there, and always will.”

Which completely negates the idea that they’ve changed. At that point, they’re not like they’ve always been. John's quite possibly worse than when we met him.

“The best and wisest men I have ever known.”

Again—what’s with the John erasure? Let’s say, for the sake of argument, Sherlock is better now—what makes him wise? And John’s arc was never about becoming wise, so what does that even mean?

“My Baker Street boys.”

Are they? Are they still the Baker Street boys (I hate that nickname)? We’re never told if John and Rosie move back in. In fact, in a Q&A Moftiss declare John does not return to Baker Street.

And that’s just it, isn’t it?

The Final Problem finale doesn’t fail because it was mysterious or ambiguous or hilariously bad or tragic. It fails because it abandons the emotional contract it made with its viewers in the very first episode. It forgets the arcs it promised, the healing it hinted at, the people these characters were meant to become.

We didn't need a happy ending. But we did need a real one.

[deathlordgregory69]

□■ ! INTRO POST ! ■□

(because I forgot to make one..)

name: camdon !!

pronouns: he/him

I do NOT tolerate:

pro-shippers, pro-hurting $3lf (as in encouraging it), homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, racism, N$FW interactions, p3dos/m@ps, DDLG/@BDL, gr00ming behavior/encouragment, anti-recovery or hatred/f3t!sh!zation of any kind!

Thansk for respecting these !!

《《▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎》》

hobbies:

drawing

painting

sculpting

listening/making music

poetry

reading

laying in bed and doing nothing at all

sleeping

watching youtube

hanging with my friends

learning new things (bugs, sharks, shows, skills, languages, etc)

writing (sometimes)

thrifting

diy clothing

music:

Pierce the Veil

Fall Out Boy

Bo Burnham

Lemon Demon

That Handsome Devil

Panic! at the Disco

Korn

Slipknot

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Nirvana + Kurt Cobain

Rhett and Link

Rage Against the Machine

ICP [edit: not anymore !! ]

Weezer

David Bowie/Ziggy Stardust

Radiohead

Evanescence

Green Day

CAKE

Sublime

The President Of The United States

Alex G

The Cranberries

Mitski

Deftones

Ciggarettes After Sex

Talking Heads

Arctic Monkeys

Michael Cera

Salvia Plath

Big Theif

Jessica Pratt

And LOTS of musicals

Shows/Movies:

TBBT (Big Bang)

Spy Kids

JJK

Basically all musicals

Glass Onion; A Knives Out Mystery

Young Sheldon

Scooby Doo (any version except for the 'What's New' one)

Super Crooks

iCarly

Dragon Tails

Lilo & Stitch

TANGLED (OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH)

Word World

Codename: Kids Next Door

Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends

The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy

Invader Zim (movie and show)

Johnny Test !!!!! (love this one a lot)

Pretty Woman

Drake and Jos

Death Becomes Her

My Girl

The Craft

Good Will Hunting

Sleeping With the Enemy

Freaky Friday

Edward Scissorhands

Journey to the Center of the World

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (2001 and 2003)

Miss Congeniality

Rango

Video Games:

Silence of the Lambs

A) Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga (On the Nintendo Wii)

B) Scooby Doo (Gameboy)

C) Animal Crossing: New Leaf (On the Nintendo 3DS)

D) COD Modern Warfare 2 (First edition)

E) Minecraft

F) Amongus

G) FNAF (especially pizza sim)

《《▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎》》

(I watch video games more

than i play them lmao....)

Okie dokie . . . THANKS FOR GETTING TO KNOW ME, BYE !!!!

My fav colors are blue and green ! By the way -- I tend to become inactive at times, but usually not very long.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Horsey

* * * *

Biden goes on offense.

March 11, 2024

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

If the campaigning over the weekend is a portent of things to come, Democrats should be feeling good. As Joe Biden continued the momentum gained from a commanding State of the Union address, Trump partied with the anti-democratic strongman of Hungary, Viktor Orbán. Biden and Trump gave dueling speeches in Georgia: Joe Biden delivered a fiery but traditional campaign speech. Trump rambled in a stream-of-consciousness manner that would have made James Joyce scratch his head in puzzlement.  

The difference in tone and comprehensibility of their respective campaign speeches in Georgia was palpable. In this clip, President Biden thanks his Black supporters for their key role in his 2020 victory and asks for their support in 2024. He also praises the bravery of the civil rights marchers—including the late John Lewis—who were beaten on the Edmund Pettus Bridge fifty-nine years ago on Bloody Sunday.

President Biden said:

Thursday marked fifty-nine years since hundreds of foot soldiers for justice marched across the Edmund Pettus Bridge named after the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan to claim the fundamental right to vote. They were beaten, they were bloody, they were left for dead—but they were unbowed. Our late friend, son of Georgia, John Lewis, was there. Five months later, what happened? We passed the Voting Rights Act [and it was] signed into law. But in the nearly six decades after that, the same forces are back, led by Donald Trump, taking us back in time, suppressing the vote, subvert[ing] elections. That’s why we have to stand up again. We know what to do. And my message to Georgia voters—and the voters all across the country—is to send me a Congress that will pass the Freedom to Vote Act and the John Lewis Voting Rights Act.

The new toughness in Biden’s speech is welcome. He is making a direct connection between the brutal voter suppression of the Jim Crow era and the reactionary tactics of MAGA extremists. And he is calling out Trump's submissive courting of foreign dictators. See The Guardian, Biden hits out at Trump in Georgia rally: ‘He’s been sucking up to dictators all over the world’.

Trump, on the other hand, attacked supporters of Ron DeSantis and Nikki Haley—because nothing invites party unity like rubbing salt in the wound! He spewed venom and ugliness about immigrants, the media, judges, rigged elections, and Joe Biden’s State of the Union address—but heaped copious praise on the enemy of democracy in Hungary, Viktor Orbán.

Trump flitted from grievance to grievance, speaking in an opaque code that was comprehensible to few members of the audience. In the snippet below, Trump complains that people are saying Joe Biden appears to be more fit than Trump:

Somebody said he [Biden] looks great in a bathing suit, right? And you know, when he was in the sand, having a hard time lifting his foot through the sand, because, you know, sand is heavy, three solid ounces per foot, but sand is a little heavy, and he is sitting in a bathing suit. At 81, do you remember Cary Grant? How good was he, right? I don't know what happened to movie stars today. We used to have Cary Grant, Glark Gable, and today – I will not say names because we don't need enemies. I get enough enemies. Cary Grant was like Michael Jackson once told me, the most handsome man in the world, Cary Grant, and we don't have that anymore. The Cary Grant at 81 or 82, going on 100, this guy, he is 81 going on 100, Cary Grant would not look too good in a bathing suit either, and he was pretty good-looking, right?

Huh??

Of course, Trump's most reprehensible conduct was imitating President Biden’s stutter. In this post, you can see Trump mocking Biden’s stutter and a moving video of Joe Biden comforting and inspiring a young boy with a stutter. Watch the video of Joe Biden until the end. It will remind you (again) why he is admired and liked by all who have worked with him.

One man is a monster and a criminal, and the other is a decent, kind person who can empathize with the challenges faced by others.

This pattern will continue for the next eight months. Trump's hate-filled, rambling rallies will continue to alienate persuadable voters, while Joe Biden’s humanity will shine through. Of course, there is no guarantee of success in anything in life. But as between the two candidates, we should be encouraged and proud to have Joe Biden as our standard bearer.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[ussjellyfish]

Hi! Rain and Psionics for the elemental writer ask? Or any of them. I'd love to get inside your process a little since your writing is awesome!!

thanks for asking!

Rain: Have you ever made yourself cry with your own writing?  If so, what was it?

Oh I do all the time. Crying usually sneaks up and then, boom. It's cathartic though. I enjoy it when I can make myself cry, it means I did a good job. Writing is such an emotional dredging process sometimes. It feels likeI have to be aware of the feelings to write it.

Some scenes that got me where Chapter 35 of Quantum Variations on a Love Theme, when Laira gives birth because that one has so much support, I love that one.

Also chapter 26 of Firefly (Philippa gives birth and so much of that is letting go for her, and I had a good time writing it).

I like to tie myself into knots emotionally while I'm writing my characters doing the same because it's almost relaxing? I liked acting in high school, and part of the fun was getting to put myself through this situations consequence free, there's nothing to worry about.

Writing is similar, I can just dive into all the feelings and then move on. Have the experience and the catharsis and then I write another chapter.

---

Psionics: How do you get into the heads of your characters?

Watch the source material and analyze the little things they do. I'm in a Laira mood, so I'll talk about her.

I make a character bio for myself, so I can try to make organic choices. I take what we know, I try to extrapolate for other parts of it. I borrow things from other writers, and try to make as detailed of a person as possible so they can live in my head.

Things we know about Laira Rillak: She's a former cargo pilot, basically a space truck driver, and then she got into politics and made it up to the leader of the Federation. Both of her parents seem to be dead, if she has siblings, they're not mentioned.

Pilots have certain traits we get from other characters we know.

Keyla Detmer, Erica Ortegas, Christopher Pike, Jean-Luc Picard, Tom Paris, Travis Merriweather, Dal R'El, Wesley Crusher...

There's bravado there. There's that sense of invincibility and how they can totally do the incredible dangerous thing. We see that in her when Discovery jumps, and she's totally fine with it. Most characters are disconcerted by their first jump (Michael, Pike, Rayner...) jumping is weird.

Laira is fine with it. She has that pilot bravado. Which explains part of why she wanted to be president now, when things are so wild. Michael and Discovery have solved the Burn, and defeated the Emerald Chain so being president right now will be hard, really hard, and promising, in a way it hasn't been in her entire life time.

She's the kind of person who looks at "someone needs to lead the Federation through this unprecedented time of rebuilding and reaching out and that someone is me." She knows what she can do. She wants to make things better. She believes in connection.

She's also really lonely. her mother is dead, it sounds like perhaps when she was young, and it doesn't sound like her father's still alive either. She has a partner she doesn't see very often and for all the effort she spends on helping other people connect, she's bad at that.

We see that later, when she's thrown by what's happening and when Michael starts looking out for her. She's great at leading, not great at looking after herself. She doesn't think her own feelings are important until Michael calls her on it.

She also fidgets with her bracelet, chews her lip when she's nervous, wears her hair in very ornate knots on the back of her head that must take some work, but also stay up all day.

She's good at thinking on her feet and can come up with an inspiring speech in a moment, and she's well respected. Michael is often at odds with her, but has faith in her abilities. Laira also isn't very good at science. She has the more complicated things explained to her often, and she's nice about it, so is the crew.

If she were a D&D character, her stats are high wisdom, high charisma, high constitution and intelligence is kind of her dump stat and that's okay.

I take that and think about what's her motivation. What do I want to accomplish. Am I leaning into her strengths and her weaknesses? What would she think in this moment? What are the emotional beats, what parts of her am I using? I lean into acting things about getting into character and think about how her voice sounds. Often I try to imagine the actors saying the lines in my head. Would it sound right? What feelings do I want them to have behind it? What do I want the audience to feel?

Sometimes it's just...this is cute banter because I love them, but that's after I've built a character and I can call on them.

[bdzonthareel]

Barbie

When I first heard about a Barbie movie, I like many people rolled their eyes at the very thought of it. Barbie media has often (at times unfairly) lambasted for being a cash grab and that was my initial reaction, however we I heard that Margot Robbie was involved and her production company was fitting the bill, my interest was piqued. So without further ado, (and I never thought I would ever say these words) let’s talk about Barbie!

We’re introduced to the fictional world of Barbieland, where every concept of Barbie exists and lives in perfect harmony with a respective Ken, and Allan (there’s only one of him.) But the harmony is disrupted when Robbie’s Stereotypical Barbie begins to suffer from an existential crisis and in order for her to fix what’s wrong she must go to the real world and meet the girl who is playing with her and figure out what’s wrong.

In all genres of entertainment, comedy is one of those that I am insanely harsh on, as comedian myself I feel like there should be a flow to long form story, especially in comedy. But I can say that Director and co-screenwriter Greta Gerwig created a work that was heartfelt and hilarious in this film.

The cinematography is nothing short of brilliant, lots and lots of pink paint was used to bring Barbieland to life and it felt like one massive play set. And the various Real World shots were not to be out done giving off a stark contrast to each other.

The soundtrack was a delightful mix of classic top 40s, newer hits and self-aware comedic songs. The score was equally light poppy and fun, composers (pop music legend) Mark Ronson and Andrew Wyatt brought an amazing upbeat energy to this film.

Co-writer Noah Baumbach, helped with some very well-timed jokes, and you know they worked because they triggered a metric ton of incels, and that alone was worth the price of admission. Together with Gerwig, I was throughly impressed with the amount of meta commentary on display, and despite what some might lead you to believe, the film doesn’t demonize men; the film’s message is far more complex than that. I also appreciate the fact that they made the movie about the titular character, with seems to be something that franchises like Transformers can’t seem to get right.

And the performances were hilariously well done, Margot Robbie and Ryan Gossling have great chemistry as they lampoon the ideas of these characters’ roles. Simu Liu, is amazing versatile and brings the same amazing timing that he brought to Kim’s Convenience and it was delightful. Although my favorite Barbies were Issa Rei as President Barbie and Sharon Rooney as Lawyer Barbie. And I would be remised to ignore Hari Nef whose Doctor Barbie was whimsical and charming, Also since I’m madly in love with Alexandra Shipp I can say that she another of my favorite parts. America Ferreira and Ariana Greenblat served as great moral support for the various inhabitants of Barbieland and then there Will Ferrell I was almost convinced was Ken at one point given his goofball behavior. I also enjoyed seeing Rhea Pearlman as one (spoilers), she just gets better with age. Kate McKinnon really went all in as Weird Barbie as did Michael Cera as Allan (easily my favorite character in the film.) And last but certainly NOT least, Dame Hellen Mirren as the narrator brought a nice touch of her

Barbie was more than what I and many others initially expected, it was packaged as a goofball fish-out-of-water comedy which is a tired cliché in its own right, I sat down on this for a good while before writing this and I feel like its one of the best comedies I have seen in a very long time. It was very funny, but it also had a lot to say about growing up, holding on to thing that we love, and letting go of them. The biggest message that we all have to find our own way, because we are all more than just an idea and life doesn’t exist in just a straight line and at the end of the day isn’t that what it means to be human?

I give Barbie a well-deserved, 5 out of 5.

[theweirdowithcoffee]

Modern Warfare (2007-2011 Era) AU Chapter 1 Rough Draft (Continuation of Prologue Rough Draft):

"In The East, Nothing New."

Day 4 - 16:58:49, 2016

PFC Michael Carver

1st Bn., 7th Marines Regiment

No Man's Wasteland, [REDACTED]

"Carver, sitrep, over." Lieutenant Phillps broke through the static comm in his usual dull tone accentuated by his higher than average volume when giving out commands. He needed to so as to ensure Private First Class James Ramirez and I could hear him over the interference. I got on the line and reported back what the pair of us had been reporting for the past hour.

"Not a thing, sir, over." The loud noise punctuating the activating and releasing the button on the radio punctuated my nothing report. It was as boring as it was true. The U.S. Army Rangers usually saw more action, especially this deep into enemy territory. As a marine myself, however, I learnt to fear the quiet more than any firefight. Silence is the last thing you want to hear in a hot combat zone. Probably why I felt somewhat tense around the mute Ranger paired with me these past couple recon assessments.

Ramirez and I were scouting out ahead in "No Man's Wasteland". I adjusted my seating, the extra gear was more than what I was used to carrying, and the masks were causing more issues than I'd like. Ramirez on the other hand was as stone faced as ever. It was like nothing could ever phase the guy. It made going out on ops easy with him, but a little unnerving. He never talked back, never questioned a direct order, and somehow had always been ontop of things. But he was an anomaly. Sometimes he'd quietly take the initiative without warning and eas hust as capable at turning overwhelming odds into our favour. If he at least said something once in a while it'd put me more at ease, but I can always respect a man of action.

The radio roared to life before the Lt's voice filled in the temporary white noise. "Roger that. Come back home you two, regroup with the rest of us and we'll move deeper into the Wasteland, how copy?"

"Solid copy." The reply was simple but to the point, just as Uncle Sam had drilled into all of us grunts. I tilt my head over to Ramirez, who was crouched against a wall with a massive burned hole where once a window must've stood between. "We're Oscar Mike, bud," I quietly call out.

Ramirez gave a slight pause before glancing out the broken window space once more. A bit of dirt and debris fell gently down the floor above us when he did. After a moment he turned back to face me, staring through the gasmask that was obfuscating his and my facial features and made a quiet hand gesture. He put up three fingers and tilted his hand downwards a couple times.

I held my breath. Three tangos that we hadn't noticed? Trepidation crept in as I wondered if they heard the radio call between the Lt. and I. A quick gesture returned back to my fellow Private from I for him to stay on my back as we quietly were to descend and rendezvous with the team. A brief nod acknowledged my order. I took point, stepping away from the corner I was observing the location from and crouch walking out the burnt down doorway we passed through about four hours ago.

This was a dangerous place for anyone to be in. It was the site of the nuke that went off five years ago during Al Ahsad's coup. A middle eastern military rising practically overnight for the world to watch in terror after executing their former President, Yasir Al-Fulani, on live television was enough to shake up the western governments into immediate action back in the day. It would be nothing compared to what came next. Unbeknownst to the U.S. at the time, they were being supported by the Ultranationalist party in Russia during its Civil War, and they supplied a nuclear weapon. When the Americans sent our boys and girls in to bring down Al Ahsad, we were working on bad intel. We knew nothing about the Ultranationalist, the bomb, and where exactly Ahsad even was. The perfect recipe for a tragedy.

We came in half cocked and confident to end this conflict in less than a week. What we got instead- was 30,000 dead and the No Man's Wasteland. The deceased can't hear our sympathies, our anguish for their loss. They can only make room for us when we find our way back to them at the end of all things.

We've been steadily infiltrating this site for a while. Ahsad in the end was a glorified red harring, a face in the middle east for the Ultranationalist to wear. Orders came from above, the General leading the forces out here five years ago. Having risen up quietly in the past couple years, we have reason to believe the Ultranationalist party has taken an interest in the area for some ungodly reason. Walking in the shadows of ghosts isn't something I want to make into a regular hobby, but I'm a marine, we typically chart out the path those shadows eventually pass through. Having to do a joint op with the Army Rangers had me racking my mind for a while, made things a bit uncomfortable. We fight for the same government, but our training often conflicts with our priorities when fate ties our hands together.

Ramirez is an anomaly in that regards. There's never any conflict with the man, probably why the Lt. sent me with him for the past couple days. I'd say I like him, but it's hard to say someone is disagreeable or not when they never pipe up. What he lacks in vocabulary, he doesn't in action. I think just as much when he in no wasted efforts shifted into position right on my six, an M4, standard issue; at the ready. Not what I'd come to expect from those army boys, even less from a Private. The only person with as much potential and talent in his division was another Private, Allen I believe his name was. Hadn't met the man myself, but apparently General Shepherd had his eye on the both of them for his "special" task force. As for me, I've been moved around enough as it was.

The Ranger and I made our way down, tight in formation. The harsh winds were starting to pick up. We were located not too far from the initial site of the blast, any closer and the radiation couldn't be ignored. In theory, no one else should be here. Unless you were looking to not to be found or had a death wish. Intuition told me our friends three flights below weren't here to keel over. The pair of us made it down the long decaying hall which sharply directed us right at a harsh ninety degree angle until the the floor began to sink into an empty hole. A staircase might have been standing there at one point, but only a skeleton of a frame remained. Ramirez had to boost me up the first time, getting down was gonna be louder than either of us would have liked. Combined with the weight we're carrying, it's a genuine risk we could fall straight through this floor and the next.

I turned to meet with Ramirez, but as usual he was already picking up what I was going to say, flashing up his hand to gesture "okay" with his fingers as I've grown accustomed too on our outings. I reached out my arm and we gripped it by the forearm firmly as I readied to let him down. Not exactly standard procedure, but it was quick and mitigated the sound we'd make on our descent and exfil. He stood crouched at the edge of the drop off facing I and myself him as I began to lower him. The strain on my right arm wasn't great, but once he was halfway, he detached his grip as I released my own and his boots hit the ground. Fortunately, it suppressed his movements good enough. Now it was turn to get down.

I gripped deep into the edge of the flooring and flipped myself over until I was hanging off the edge. The space between myself and the ground was enough for me and a half of me. Luckily, Ramirez would make up some of that space. He slid over his M4 and waited in a trust-fall like catching position. Without much other options, I released hold and let the Ranger and Gravity sort the rest out.

The impact was a little rough, I was certain my shoulders were going to be sore, but the sound we would have otherwise made and damage to ourselves we might have done was reduced considerably. If Lady Fate was kind, it would be enough to keep us concealed. Wasting no further time, we readied up into our formation once more and carefully resumed our trek out of this dilapidated place. On our way to the next stairway, something caught my attention. I gestured for the Private to hold his position as I too came to a stop. Movement. It was faint, but it was there. Not by sight, but sound. The winds had picked up even further. Cancerous airs inflicted by the hate of man onto this Earth were now masking our enemies- yet us as well. It holds no loyalty for its fathers. A quick motion of fingers and wrists informed Ramirez that we were resuming our withdrawal.

We hit the next staircase. More sounds echoed in tandem with the violent weather. Anxiety of a radiation storm flared up in my mind, no matter how unlikely, but I wouldn't let that show through the mask. I could make out what might have been chatter. Hard to say what they were speaking, but it was a safe bet to say I wouldn't be able to understand even under better circumstances.

Then came the clanking of metal. A tone of aggression, but not pointed at our approach. Not at first. Turning my attention back to my partner in the field, I signaled for him to hold the position at the top of the stairs; I was to scout ahead. He reciprocated the silent command with slight nod and taking cover against the wall that followed the steps back down. This needed to be quick.

-------------------------------------------------------

If you wish to support me and what I do, you can do so on my KoFi here!

[bllsbailey]

Sesame Street faces backlash after issuing celebratory Pride Month post: ‘Woke nonsense’

Are the producers of sesame street child molesters?

Popular kids television show “Sesame Street” is facing backlash for issuing a celebratory LGBTQ “Pride Month” post on social media.

The post was issued on June 1st, featuring interlinked puppet arms of all colors to symbolize the rainbow colors seen on the pride flag, along with the caption: “On our street, everyone is welcome. Together, let’s build a world where every person and family feels loved and respected for who they are. Happy #PrideMonth!”

The controversial post has nearly 17 million views on the social media platform X, as users quickly condemned the post for “pushing sexual identity stuff” onto children.

“I’d prefer you just focus on content for children instead of pushing sexual identity stuff onto them. I grew up with Sesame Street. I won’t let my kids watch it because of all the woke nonsense you push. Plenty of other wholesome and sane shows for them to watch,” wrote Wade Miller, the Executive Director of Citizens for Renewing America.

“Kids don’t care about sexual preferences. Only perverts and pedophiles are talking to children about sex,” another user responded.

“Nothing to see here: just a publicly funded puppet show promoting weird sex stuff to your three-year-old,” added Conservative commentator Michael Knowles.

Popular conservative X account Libs of TikTok responded to the initial post showcasing a previous video of Sesame Street characters on CNN promoting COVID vaccines to children.

The popular children’s live action puppet show is publicly funded through PBS, which President Donald Trump recently moved to defund.

During last year’s Pride Month, Sesame Street featured a segment showcasing a family with two gay fathers.

“Families come in many different forms, and they celebrate their cultures in many different ways, like a favorite dish! Join Mia and her fathers Dave and Frank as they share their recipe for Arroz Imperial,” the Sesame Street X account wrote along with the video segment from the show.

Families come in many different forms, and they celebrate their cultures in many different ways, like a favorite dish! Join Mia and her fathers Dave and Frank as they share their recipe for Arroz Imperial. #Pride #Season54 pic.twitter.com/BWjvvVY4R7— Sesame Street (@sesamestreet) June 25, 2024

PBS issued a lawsuit against the Trump administration over its move to defund the network, arguing that the pulling of federal funds is “unconstitutional.”

Stay informed! Receive breaking news alerts directly to your inbox for free. Subscribe here. https://www.oann.com/alerts

[891movies]

Around the world (165 left)

My Haggan Dream (2016, dir. Robert Sams, Laura Sams): From Northern Mariana Islands. A cute little short about protecting the turtles shot in a beautiful area, starring and directed by an evidently very talented child. Link.

Tuna: A Fish with a Special Place in My Heart (2012, dir. Ongerung Kambes Kesolei): From Palau. A short made for World Tuna Day. The narrator talks about tuna and its role in his personal history and while it's not a very professional looking film it is incredibly charming and left me in a happy mood. Link.

Black Doll (2018, dir. Akley Olton): From Saint Vincent and the Grenadines. A short about a black girl's relationship with her hair, featuring a violent doll dismemberment as all good films about young girls should. Link.

France on a Pebble (1960, dir. Gilles Groul, Claude Fournier): From Saint Pierre and Miquelon. I'll be honest, this was the only movie I could find from the territory and I could only find it sans subtitles so I understood none of the information that was being conveyed. But it was nice to look at! Link.

Operation Dominic (1962): From United States Minor Outlying Islands. This is a declassified pentagon documentary about nuclear testing and it is exactly as boring yet horrifying as that sounds. Link.

Sahara with Michael Palin (2002, dir. John-Paul Davidson, Roger Mills): From Gibraltar. I've been trying to select films made by locals for this project but sometimes my options are limited, hence the British travelogue for Gibraltar. But it is a well-made travelogue, and Palin is respectful and curious about the cultures he's visiting.

Kiribati: The President's Dilemma (2010, dir. James Heer): From Kiribati. If you've heard of Kiribati, you probably know it as the first nation set to go completely under water due to climate change. This short documentary presents the dilemma facing president Anote Tong simply and solemnly - how can you ask your people to evacuate their homeland, even in the face of its inevitable destruction? Link.

The World's Most Useful Airport (2019, dir. Sam Denby): From Saint Helena, Ascension and Tristan da Cunha. I wasn't expecting to be watching any youtube documentaries for this project but then again, if this had aired on TV instead I wouldn't have blinked an eye. Not groundbreaking or particularly inventing filmmaking but it's well made and taught me something I didn't know. Link.

Liquid Love (2013, dir. Pilli Cortese): From Seychelles. I wasn't expecting Skip Sullivan to be replaced so soon as the worst entry but wow, that was fucking awful. Link, in case you wanna have a bad time.

VAKA (2019, dir. Kelly Moneymaker): From Tokelau. Another short documentary from a pacific island, this time about the first nation to support itself completely with solar energy. Again nothing groundbreaking but it was informative and the narrator has a very pleasant voice. Link.

Final thoughts: More shorts and documentaries only, and that will be the case for at least another update post as I work my way through all the territories with the smallest selections on offer. My favorites of this batch are My Haggan Dream and Sahara with Michael Palin.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

My coffee is nice and hot and I’ve collected a lot of material to share this week. There’s no way I can share it all. A lot of it centers around American Politics and the rift between WordPress and WP Engine.

I hope you enjoy the links I’ve selected for you. 😁

The Carter Center

ATLANTA — Today, The Carter Center and the world celebrate the 100th birthday of former President Jimmy Carter. As the longest-living U.S. president in history, he stands as a beacon of leadership and compassion, inspiring people around the globe.

I remember as a kid folks being very critical of Jimmy Carter, especially around the Iran hostage crisis. But, there’s no denying he is a wonderful man whose real legacy started after he was President. He’s an American Hero and a great example of human kindness and compassion. He walks the walk.

Happy 100th Birthday Mr. President! 🎂

Hafsa Khalil • BBC

Kris Kristofferson, the award-winning country singer and actor who worked with Johnny Cash and Martin Scorsese, has died aged 88.

Kris Kristofferson was a Renaissance Man. He earned a Masters degree at Oxford University, served in the US Army, was an actor, and he’s probably best know as a musician. He was also a badass. I tend to look up to folks like that.

A part me me hopes the dust-up between Toby Keith and Kris Kristofferson, as penned by Ethan Hawke for Rolling Stone, actually happened. 😄

RIP 🪦

The Cincinnati Enquirer • Mark Wert and Jason Hoffman

Pete Rose, MLB all-time hits leader, dies at 83

As a boy I was a Reds fan and vividly remember the 1976 World Series. I was a Johnny Bench fan as a boy and became a catcher because of him. The fact that they hammered the Yankees by sweeping them in the series was icing on the cake. My MLB team allegiance changed over the years but I’ll always be a fan of The Big Red Machine and The Great Eight, Rose among them.

It’s high time Major League Baseball allows Rose to be inducted into the Hall of Fame.

RIP Charlie Hustle. 🪦

Jeffrey Zeldman

My insight into corporate legal disputes is as meaningful as my opinion on Quantum Mechanics. What I do know is that, when given the chance this week to leave my job with half a year’s salary paid in advance, I chose to stay at Automattic.

The WordPress community is in complete turmoil at the moment. I would not be shocked to see this completely fracture the community into competing factions, forking WordPress, and building how they see fit.

I’m a big fan of WordPress, even though I complain about it not being able to make static sites. It is a very nice plug-n-play system for everything from a simple one person blog, to a small business, to a huge corporation managing a very large, heavily trafficked site.

I’ve tried to get a job there I like it so much. I’d still love the opportunity to work on their iOS client or Tumblr iOS client apps.

They’ve done a lot for the open source community and Matt has always come across as one of the good guys.

I really hope this gets resolved without blowing up the community.

John Stoehr • Raw Story

Former GOP official Michael Steele unfurled an epic rant bashing voters who would consider sending “incompetent” Donald Trump back to the White House.

Michael Steele is the former Chair of the RNC and lieutenant governor of Maryland. The man is a politician and life long Republican. He’s the type of person I usually disagree with politically but I respect him. He’s nothing like the modern GOP turned MAGA cult.

Anywho. So many real Republicans have come out against the Orange Man, yet the polls are still tight? I don’t get it and I’m still terrified we might get Orangey for a second term.

Bradley Brownell • Jalopnik

NASCAR is running an unlawful monopoly on the sport of stock car racing, alleges a suit filed on Wednesday by stock car teams 23XI Racing and Front Row Motorsports against the sanctioning body and its CEO Jim France. 23XI is, of course, the team co-owned by NBA legend Michael Jordan and racer Denny Hamlin.

My popcorn is ready! I hope 23XI — pronounced 23 11 — and Front Row Motorsports make some headway for NASCAR teams. I know I’m new to NASCAR but if you read what the two teams claim it’s shocking what NASCAR gets away with. How teams manage to exist is beyond me. It’s a terrible business, if that’s what you’re after. It seems you need deep pockets or sponsors with deep pockets just to keep a team afloat, much less be competitive.

Christian Selig

Juno for YouTube has been removed from the App Store

This can’t be a surprise to anyone given how fiercely YouTube protects its product. Of course I wish they’d left Christian alone because he makes beautiful software.

I know nobody from YouTube will see this but I wish they’d offer to give Christian some cash for it and hire him to continue working on it.

Jamie Zawinski

Mozilla’s CEO doubles down on them being an advertising company now

With all the kerfuffle between WordPress and WP Engine it’s hard to watch Mozilla head down this road. They’re one of those organizations we could look up to as an open source advocate and maintainer of one of the most used pieces of software in the world.

Hopefully they’re able to find their way back to their roots and continue to maintain Firefox.

Michael Moore

Right now, if you know how to really read the polls, or if you have access to the various private and internal polling being conducted by and shared only amongst the elites, Wall Street, and Members of Congress, then you already know that this election was over weeks ago. Trump simply refused to believe that “Sleepy Joe” was no longer his opponent and that there was instead “some woman” claiming she was “Black” who was now going to pummel him on Election Day. He soon became unhinged, ranted for hours about Hannibal Lecter, Haitians cannibalizing your pets, and a nonstop drone of oral diarrhea spewing misogyny, racism and essentially claiming that if he loses “it will be the Jews’ fault.”

I’m steeling myself for the possibility of a Trump Presidency. Seeing articles like this give me some hope for a Harris Waltz win. If they do win I expect a lot more violence this time around. I hope that can all be suppressed before it can happen but it won’t surprise me if it does.

All news outlets and social media sites need to agree to not give the Orange Man any airtime for speeches after the election or at least be ready to cut away at an instant.

JOSEPH SHAVIT • The Brighter Side

In a groundbreaking development poised to reshape the energy landscape of Saskatchewan, Canada, a compact nuclear reactor with the capacity to operate for eight years without water is set to come online by 2029.

I hope this works out. It could provide us with clean energy for years and years to come.

Sylvain Kerkour

Rust developers are stuck in an endless hamster wheel where every month / week there is a new best way to do something, and the previous way is now deprecated, kind of like in the fronntend development world with the weekly hottest JavaScript framework.

I know Rust and other languages rely on the community to make the language better but I am surprised the actual framework support for the platform often comes from outside sources.

Rust should have runtime library support just like the C and C++. Basic stuff plus heavily used things like networking and other frameworks layered on top of those. All using common framework patterns and maintained by the main Rust development team.

Something that makes developing in Apple platforms are the shared frameworks that work the same on Mac, iPhone, iPad, etc. Sure, the UI bits are different, but a lot of other code is the same. I’d say 80% of Stream code is shared between Mac and iOS and it’s maintained by Apple and ready for each new release of their OSes.

Blair Vanderhoof, , Jesse Watts-Russell, Fernando Gorodscy, Matt Galloway, and Eli White • engineering.fb.com

At Meta, React and React Native are more than just tools; they are integral to our product development and innovation. With over five thousand people at Meta building products and experiences with React every month, these technologies are fundamental to our engineering culture and our ability to quickly build and ship high quality products.

I’ve been working in React Native off and on since June of this year. It’s a fine framework and definitely allows developers to move quickly. Especially web devs with React experience. They can come to a project and be instantly productive.

This Facebook Engineering piece reads like marketing material at times but giving developers the means to develop for everything from iOS to Android to Windows to XBox to PlayStation is real and that’s powerful.

It doesn’t mean all the UI looks exactly the same just like Mac and iOS apps can share a bunch of code and have a different UI, but that ability to share a large portion of code is extremely powerful to a development team.

I still love writing native apps in their native frameworks and expect to keep Stream 100% native. I still love using C++ for cross platform work even though I haven’t had the need for it in years. Then you have Rust gaining ground. We have good choices for cross platform work, including Swift.

Something I really dislike about using React Native and TypeScript is the lack of real tooling for debugging in a full IDE. I’d love to be able to debug between Swift and TypeScript right inside Xcode but TypeScript/JavaScript tooling is arcane. Hopefully someone way smarter than me will make that happen.

Anyone know if Rust fully integrates into Xcode and Microsoft’s Visual Studio?

[talkingpointsusa]

Michael Knowles comes out in defense of killing puppies

South Dakota’s governor and potential Trump running mate Kristi Noem admitted to shooting her own dog as well as a goat in her autobiography - one of our favorite imbeciles Michael Knowles is scarily OK with this. Considering that animal abuse is a bridge too far for really any rational human being, this really speaks to the character of these guys. Lets get into it.

04:51, Michael Knowles: "Three observations here. First one is, this probably was bad politics."

As usual, Michael Knowles is kind of getting thrown under the bus by the Daily Wire with this story. Michael Knowles tends to do the stories that Ben Shapiro doesn't seem to want to cover, which makes sense because he's basically a warmed over Ben Shapiro clone with less intelligent takes.

As for this being "bad politics", no kidding! When you admit to shooting a dog and a goat in your autobiography that's a really bad look. Anyway, Michael's position on this is that Kristi Noem did nothing wrong and that it's actually A-OK to shoot your dog.

06:34, Michael Knowles: "Now, I only somewhat jokingly tweeted. I said unpopular take here, I know everyone's raking Kristi Noem over the coals but this actually makes me like and respect her more."

Yeah, liking someone MORE for bragging about killing an animal in cold blood is....certainly a take from Michael here.

06:43, Michael Knowles: "And I'm a little bit joking here obviously because this totally politically backfired for her but what I'm getting at there is I want my politicians to be just tough as nails cold blooded killers."

You're a huge fan of the guy who throws shit-fits about people making fun of him, calm down. Seriously, Trump basically wants to ban people from making fun of him.

But man, Michael really thought this one through. “I like this politician better because she killed her dog. Really I just like sociopaths in general - they remind me of my coworker Matt you see.”

06:59, Michael Knowles: "We are going up against a political establishment right now that is throwing us in jail for disagreeing with them."

Wow Michael, I didn't know that you were broadcasting out of prison now. That sucks man.

Statements like that really show the absolute contempt that guys like Michael Knowles have for their audiences. How on earth can you as a listener of this show square the statement that the left is throwing conservatives in jail for disagreeing with them with the fact that the Daily Wire exists?!

07:02, Michael Knowles: "We're going up against a political establishment that is prosecuting, for the first time ever, former presidents, leaders of the opposition. That's throwing midwestern grannies into isolation and solitary confinement because they had the audacity to show up and take selfies in the Capitol rotunda on January 6th."

I already talked about the J6 "praying grandma" in a previous post and my opinion remains the same - her age is completely unimportant here. What is important is that she was illegally inside of a government building and was part of a mob that wanted to overturn a presidential election.

07:20, Michael Knowles: "The worst insurrection ever in America even though it was only months after an eight month insurrection that the Democrats led called BLM."

What?! It's official, Michael has absolutely zero idea what the word insurrection means. The BLM protestors weren't trying to overthrow the government which is the literal definition of an insurrection.

Anyway, time for more stuff about how killings animals is morally A-OK.

08:33, Michael Knowles: "My third point here is, yes it was politically dumb for Noem to admit this. Yes, her political calculation misfired. mixing metaphors. You get the point. But the third point is, Noem didn't do anything wrong. You might say it wasn't advisable. You might say there were better things she could have done. She could have given the dog up for adoption. She could have tried to train the dog. She could -- there is nothing wrong with a human being humanely killing an animal."

She absolutely did something wrong here because shooting a dog in the head because you feel that it's "untrainable" is completely sociopathic behavior. Also, did Michael miss the part about how she had to go back to her truck and get another shell to finish the goat that she shot off because the first shot didn't kill it?

Anyway, nobody is arguing that the method in which she put her dog down isn't "humane". It's the fact that Noem essentially killed a dog because it wasn't properly trained which was her responsibility as the owner. He's arguing a strawman - most likely because he realizes that shooting a perfectly healthy dog in the head for not being well trained is a pretty indefensible thing to do. Michael is really on an island of his own here too because I watched a Tim Pool video on this and his whole take was basically "This is kinda fucked up". When Tim Pool is ahead of you, you've got an issue.

Michael is anti animal abuse though - but not because of any of that pesky "animals are living beings" stuff.

09:55, Michael Knowles: "It would be one thing if Kristi Noem were torturing this dog like a serial killer or something. That would be wrong. And it would be wrong — it's wrong to mistreat animals, not because the animals have any rights -- animals don't have a rational soul."

Yeah, that's the kind of thing that you say when YOU don't have a rational soul. I guess we're ignoring the fact that animals can feel pain and the other fact that failed actor turned professional Ben Shapiro impressionist Michael Knowles is not the grand arbiter of what has a soul and what doesn't.

10:07, Michael Knowles: "The reason it's wrong, nevertheless, to mistreat animals is because it deadens our own humanity. CS Lewis writes about this extensively. If you are needlessly inflicting pain and suffering on some — suffering to the degree that an animal can suffer — on some poor creature, that's deadening your humanity."

"Suffering to the degree that an animal can suffer". God, I am honestly wondering if Michael Knowles should be placed on a watchlist now. At the very least he should be banned from your local pet store. On the bright side, he seems to directionally understand that hurting animals = bad so that's kind of a plus....I guess.

Not content with making freakish arguments about animals, Michael also complains about people calling him out on his freakish arguments about animals.

13:10, Michael Knowles: "The most histrionic, hysterical, reaction that I got to my joke about Kristi Noem's poor little pooch comes from Glenn Greenwald - the liberal left-wing journalist."

Brief aside but man I have such conflicting feelings about Glenn Greenwald these days. He kind of lost his leftist card when he started appearing on debate panels with Alex Jones to condescendingly argue that January 6th wasn't all that big a deal as well as him becoming besties with Tucker Carlson. Which by the way, as a journalism student, is absolutely tragic as Glenn's work on Snowden was one of the journalistic pieces that inspired me to take an interest in the subject in the first place. The reason that Glenn left the Intercept was literally because he threw a shit-fit about being asked to present evidence about unsubstantiated claims he was making about Joe Biden. I respect Glenn for the journalism that he's done, as a matter of fact I think a lot of that journalism was heroic - but what he has become now is really sad.

Reflections on Glenn Greenwald aside, I don't think Michael gets to claim that the tweet he made was a joke after spending ten minutes trying to lay out a logical case for why what he said was entirely correct. He's doing that thing that Matt Walsh does where he wraps his argument up in faux "sarcasm" so that when people call him on his shit he can retreat and go "It was just a joke, chill".

The Urban Dictionary has a great term for this called Schrodinger's Dipshit. They define this term as: "Someone who says something questionable, yet incredibly stupid, but defensively declares that they are joking if anyone calls them out for it." Sound familiar?

This move is kind of the Daily Wire house special and it's a cowardly move that you use when you're a grifter who refuses to stand by your words. Anyway, Michael takes Glenn's tweet to a hilariously dumb and somewhat homophobic place.

13:54, Michael Knowles: "This actually shows you a problem with our politics. Our culture, we don't have children anymore. Our culture, we don't make families anymore. Our culture, we don't pass down our cultural inheritance anymore."

This is why the Daily Wire is both hilarious and so so horrifyingly stupid.

What exactly is the point that Michael is trying to make here - leaving aside the buzzwords and the kind of subtle homophobia towards Glenn for being gay. Glenn Greenwald didn't fall out of the sky one day, his parents birthed him and presumably taught him their cultural values. Now, I know that Michael Knowles is a bit of a simp for the middle ages but I don't think he realizes that societies change and evolve.

14:22, Michael Knowles: "I mean, we're choosing not to propagate our civilization."

"Which is why Glenn Greenwald was mean to me in a tweet" - this is so fucking stupid, even by Michael Knowles standards.

I'm sure that Michael is fine with Glenn having kids via surrogacy with his unfortunately late partner.....right? Otherwise this wouldn't really make sense unless you just don't like gay people right Mikey?!

14:38, Michael Knowles: "We are a sterile culture increasingly and sterile people and sterile cultures confuse dogs for children."

WHAT?!

Putting aside the fact that I'm pretty sure that this comment was a homophobic potshot at Glenn Greenwald, Michael's point here is that since apparently our culture isn't entirely devoted to pumping out babies we are laboring under the delusion that dogs are children. I guess that's a conclusion you'd make if you can't comprehend having empathy for animals. Michael plays a clip of a CNN reporter saying that there's a special circle of Hell reserved for people who mistreat animals and apparently the Daily Wire has sunken low enough that saying that is a controversial statement there.

Anyway, lets see the other dumb crap that Michael is on about. The last story was kind of infuriating and the in-between is kind of boring. There's stuff about the protests at Columbia but that deserves its own post. Then, at the end, the show takes a turn for the weird, dumb, and unintentionally hilarious.

43:25, Michael Knowles: "How will you die?"

I'll be driven to insanity by Michael Knowles clips and die via slamming my head into a desk repeatedly while yelling expletives in Latin.

43:45, Michael Knowles: "There is a new app that can apparently predict that. This new app, I'm not even going to name it because it's bad for you and there are some warnings about it."

This app is called Life2vec and it is apparently freakishly accurate. Allegedly it has an almost 79% accuracy rate. It uses data from Statistics Denmark and samples information from around 6 million people who were between 35 and 65. I find this creepy as all hell but at the end of the day it's just a computer program going off numbers and data. The actual Life2Vec AI model is not available to the public and there are a surge of fraudulent websites claiming to be that AI, a fact which Michael doesn't seem to grasp throughout this segment. Instead, Michael takes this story in the most bizarre direction possible.

45:11, Michael Knowles: "People are warning now 'Don't try this app out' because there are a lot of copycat apps and they might hack your information and it's just not a good road to go down but even if there weren't copycat apps that were trying to steal your financial information you still shouldn't use this app."

That's easy enough since the app isn't actually available to the public.

45:22, Michael Knowles: "And the reason you shouldn't use this app is the same reason that the Bible tells you not to consult astrologers, OK? It's not -- a lot of people misunderstand why the Bible says don't consult astrologers. They think, in our modern scientific age, that it's because astrology's silly and not real. That's not why -- that's not why there's a commandment, 'Hey don't do this thing that's really silly and pointless'. The reason behind not consulting astrologers is because we don't want to compromise our free will."

Uh...I'm pretty sure it's because in Biblical times astrologers were viewed as false prophets but go off I guess. This you by the way? Michael posted this literally a couple days ago.

But maybe I'm wrong, maybe he went off against this AI that can predict political orientation too. Lets see what Michael had to say in that video.

02:05, Michael Knowles: "AI has it's algorithms, human beings have our guts. They are both wrong sometimes, they can both be used in unjust ways, but they are also both necessary tools for fulfilling our purposes and they're often pretty accurate whether we want to admit it or not."

So between a period of five days Michael went from "Well, AI has it's algorithms and it can be useful for fulfilling our purposes" to "PREDICTIVE AI IS EVIL AND CAN COMPROMISE OUR SOULS."

I guess that's kind of what happens when you lie on the internet for a living.

Conclusion:

Just....wow. Just when I thought that these guys couldn't get any lower here's Michael Knowles to prove me wrong. Here's Michael Knowles proving that morals and empathy aren't in the modern conservative lexicon. Here's Michael Knowles grabbing the shovel and digging the hole for himself down into the depths of the Earth.

Also, predictive AI is super useful...and evil...but also useful. Cheers and I'll see you in the next one.

Sources:

Original video:

“Ep. 1478 - Wars Rage, and One Dead Dog Dominates the News.” The Daily Wire.

Kristi Noem the dog killer:

Pengelly, Martin. “Trump VP Contender Kristi Noem Writes of Killing Dog – and Goat – in New Book.” The Guardian, 26 Apr. 2024.

AI death calculator:

“Life2vec “Death Calculator” Is Nearly 79 per Cent Accurate | Indy100.” Www.indy100.com

Perry, Alex. “AI Death Calculator? People Are Searching for Their “Death Date” with This Creepy (Fake) Bot.” Mashable, 30 Apr. 2024.

[ghtrrgwe]

Epstein list: Who is named in unsealed documents so far?

Celebrities and former politicians are mentioned in evidence that formed part of Epstein accuser Virginia Giuffre's civil lawsuit against his former lover Ghislaine Maxwell in 2015. Many have not been accused of any wrongdoing.

Some 60 of 250 previously sealed documents relating to the late sex offender Jeffrey Epstein have been released by a US court.

After Judge Loretta Preska ruled they could be unsealed in December and no objections were made, the first set of court papers were published on 3 January.

They largely consist of legal arguments and interviews carried out for Virginia Giuffre's 2015 civil lawsuit against Epstein's former lover Ghislaine Maxwell, who was sentenced to 20 years in prison for recruiting and grooming girls for him.

Epstein offered reward to disprove orgy claim

Ms Giuffre has been the most vocal of Epstein's accusers and settled a sexual assault lawsuit against Prince Andrew for a reported $12m (£9.5m) in 2022.

The Duke of York, who stepped back from public life and was stripped of his titles over his association with Epstein, vehemently denies Ms Giuffre's claims.

One of the files released this week is evidence from a woman called Johanna Sjoberg, another of Epstein's alleged victims.

In it are references to celebrities, politicians, and philanthropists, many of whom are not accused of wrongdoing but are believed to have known or associated with the late paedophile.

Epstein was first arrested in 2005 and later found dead in his New York prison cell while awaiting trial on further sex trafficking charges.

Here we look at some of the most well-known names in the newly released documents.

Ms Sjoberg's evidence says Prince Andrew touched her breast while on a sofa at Epstein's New York mansion in 2001 while he, Maxwell, and Ms Giuffre were there. The Duke of York and Buckingham Palace strongly deny this.

She says Maxwell took out a puppet - believed to be the one of the duke used for the BBC satire Spitting Image.

The evidence reads: "It looked like him. And she [Maxwell] brought it down and presented it to him; and that was a great joke, because apparently it was a production from a show on BBC.

"And they decided to take a picture with it, in which Virginia and Andrew sat on a couch.

"They put the puppet on Virginia's lap, and I sat on Andrew's lap, and they put the puppet's hand on Virginia's breast, and Andrew put his hand on my breast, and they took a photo."

Ms Giuffre's evidence claims she was "sex-trafficked to PA [Prince Andrew] and other men, including two of the world's most respected politicians" with those names redacted. The duke has always denied this.

A transcript of a video interview with Epstein's Palm Beach housekeeper Juan Alessi also sees him claim the duke "spent weeks there" and would have "daily massages".

Ms Sjoberg is asked in evidence: "Did you ever meet anybody famous when you were with Jeffrey?"

She replies: "I met Michael Jackson", adding that it was "at Jeffrey's house in Palm Beach".

Asked if she "massaged him", as she alleges she was forced to do with Epstein and others, she responds: "I did not."

The former US president was pictured socialising with Epstein and Maxwell and the pair are thought to have been friends.

Asked in her evidence if she ever massaged him on Epstein or Maxwell's request, she said no.

She later says that on one occasion she was on a plane with the pair and Ms Giuffre, which was told it could not land as expected in New York. Instead, it was diverted to Atlantic City, where Mr Trump had a casino.

Ms Sjoberg says: "Jeffrey said 'Great, we'll call up Trump and we'll go to - I don't recall the name of the casino, but - we'll go to the casino'."

A spokesperson for Clinton said in 2019 that he "knows nothing of Epstein's terrible crimes" and cut off all contact with him after he was first arrested in 2005.

Ms Sjoberg is asked: "Do you know if Bill Clinton was a friend of Jeffrey Epstein?"

She replies: "I did not know they were friends until I read the Vanity Fair article about them going to Africa together."

Epstein flew many well-known philanthropists and politicians around the world in his private jet to visit various international development project sites.

Quizzed if Epstein "ever talked to her about Clinton", she replies: "He said one time that Clinton likes them young, referring to girls."

An email from Ms Giuffre to Vanity Fair journalist Sharon Churcher in May 2011 also sees the former claim Mr Clinton threatened the publication "not to write sex-trafficking articles" about Epstein.

Separate evidence from Epstein accuser Sarah Ransome sees her tell a journalist in 2016 that sex tapes were filmed of Mr Clinton, Prince Andrew and others, by Epstein. A 2019 article in the New Yorker reports she invented the tapes to draw attention to Epstein's behaviour".

As well as Ms Sjoberg's evidence, an email from Epstein to Maxwell is included in the unsealed files from soon after Ms Giuffre filed her 2015 lawsuit.

In it, Epstein says Maxwell should "issue a reward" to any one of Ms Giuffre's associates who can prove any of the allegations in the lawsuit to be false.

"You can issue a reward to any of Virginia's friends, acquaints, family that come forward and help prove her allegations are false," it says.

"The strongest is the Clinton dinner, and the new version in the Virgin Islands that Stephen Hawking participated in an underage orgy."

The late physicist Stephen Hawking was photographed on Epstein's Caribbean island in March 2006, as part of a trip to a science conference on neighbouring island St Thomas.

The conference was paid for by Epstein and saw 20 other scientists attend. There is no accusation of any wrongdoing by Mr Hawking.

Emails from Ms Ransome to a reporter in 2016 claim Sir Richard Branson, Mr Clinton and Prince Andrew were filmed having sex with people by Epstein.

They read: "When my friend had sexual intercourse with Clinton, Prince Andrew and Richard Branson, sex tapes were in fact filmed on each separate occasion by Jeffrey.

"Thank God she managed to get a hold of some footage of the filmed sex tapes, which clearly identify the faces of Clinton, Prince Andrew and Branson having sexual intercourse with her.

"Frustratingly enough Epstein was not seen in any of the footage but he was clever like that!

"When my friend eventually had the courage to speak out and went to the police in 2008 to report what had happened, nothing was done and she was utterly humiliated by the police department where she went to report what had happened with Epstein, Clinton, Branson and Prince Andrew."

A New Yorker article, released in 2019, reported Ms Ransome admitted "she had invented the tapes to draw attention to Epstein's behaviour, and to make him believe that she had 'evidence that would come out if he harmed me'".

On behalf of Sir Richard Branson, a Virgin Group spokeswoman said: "In a New Yorker report published in 2019, Ransome admitted that she had 'invented' the tapes. We can confirm that Sarah Ransome's claims are baseless and unfounded."

In the documents released, photocopies of Epstein's assistant's notepad details calls to Epstein from Harvey Weinstein and Abigail Wexner "to talk about something private" in 2005.

Abigail Wexner is married to the former Victoria's Secret billionaire Les Wexner.

Weinstein, the disgraced Hollywood producer, is currently in jail for rape and sexual assault.

In the documents released, photocopies of Epstein's assistant's notepad details calls to Epstein from Harvey Weinstein and Abigail Wexner "to talk about something private" in 2005.

Abigail Wexner is married to the former Victoria's Secret billionaire Les Wexner.

Weinstein, the disgraced Hollywood producer, is currently in jail for rape and sexual assault.

Ms Sjoberg was asked if she had ever met the former prime minister of Israel, Ehud Barak.

She said she hadn't, adding that she had never met "any foreign president" or "Nobel Prize winner".

She was also asked about the then Democratic governor of the US state of New Mexico.

She says: "I want to say he was supposed to come to dinner when we were in New Mexico. I don't know if I met him."

"I believe that he and Ghislaine had dinner separate from myself," she adds.

Ms Sjoberg is asked about a "press report that said you had met Cate Blanchett or Leonardo DiCaprio" in her evidence.

She says she didn't meet either of them, but "when I was massaging him [Epstein], he would be on the phone a lot of the time, and one time he said 'Oh that was Leonardo, or 'That was Cate Blanchett, or Bruce Willis. That kind of thing".

The interviewer clarifies: "So name-dropping?", to which she responds: "Yes."

Among the other Hollywood stars she is asked about is actor Cameron Diaz.

But like the others, when asked if she ever met her via Epstein, she says: "No."

[nothingunrealistic]

Throughout the course of Billions, characters have conspired to take down their enemies with comically elaborate schemes. It’s only natural, then, that the series finale, “Admirals Fund,” hinges on one last con. With self-made billionaire Mike Prince (Corey Stoll) shaping up to be the next POTUS, longtime adversaries Chuck Rhoades (Paul Giamatti) and Bobby Axelrod (Damian Lewis) work together to take away the one thing that legitimizes Prince’s candidacy: his wealth. As Prince goes to meet with the current (albeit unnamed) president at Camp David—a tacit acknowledgement that he’s the front-runner in the upcoming election—Chuck and Axe set about orchestrating his downfall. At the Southern District of New York’s offices, Chuck tells his staff that they’re now investigating six of the United States’ largest national gas companies for potential collusion with China, Russia, and Iran. Meanwhile, Philip Charyn (Toney Goins), who has the final say on all trades at Michael Prince Capital and has secretly soured on his boss, goes about putting all of the company’s funds into the natural gas sector. Once the SDNY’s investigation is leaked to the press as Chuck intended, the stocks crater and MPC’s risk-management algorithm sells all of the natural gas positions once they become worthless. (Since Prince doesn’t have access to his phone at Camp David, he’s oblivious to all of this going down.) By the time Chuck holds a press conference announcing that the investigation amounted to nothing but hearsay—thereby allowing the natural gas stocks to rebound—Prince’s entire portfolio has been wiped out. As for Axe, he ensures that his former Axe Capital employees are spared from the carnage by siphoning their money into a secret internal fund. In one fell swoop, Prince loses his throne. With that, Billions arrives at its own version of a happy ending: Chuck reclaims his dream job at SDNY, Axe revives his hedge fund, Wendy Rhoades (Maggie Siff) embraces a new challenge as the CEO of a telehealth company, and Taylor Mason (Asia Kate Dillon) leaves the world of finance for philanthropy. (While Prince’s company is destroyed and his presidential aspirations are extinguished, his consolation prize is the $100 million he tucked away at Black-owned banks to secure Killer Mike’s endorsement.) Still, even as Billions ends, it’s hard to imagine these characters ever winding down—in the spirit of the show’s innumerable pop culture references, the action is the juice. Of course, the world of Billions isn’t going anywhere: as Showtime announced earlier this year, as many as four spinoffs are in development. (The working titles for two of these projects: Millions and Trillions; I’m not kidding.) With the Writers Guild of America strike only just ending—and the Screen Actors Guild still negotiating with studios—there haven’t been any meaningful updates on these spinoffs. But for the time being, series cocreators Brian Koppelman and David Levien are more than happy to break down all things Billions. Below, we discuss the challenge of ending a show with such a deep ensemble, what goes into executing a long con, and the celebrity cameos that could have been.

Good to see you guys again. Brian, I haven’t seen you since you kicked my ass in tennis, but I’ve been trying to work on my game since. Brian Koppelman: Yeah, how’s that been going, man? Actually, it’s been going well. I won a tournament in Brooklyn last month, but it felt very fluky. It didn’t have any heavy hitters in the draw. Koppelman: All deep respect to you, but I’m not optimistic about your chances against me.

[Laughs] Fair enough. First of all, congrats on the finale. When you guys started Billions, did you already have an idea of how long the series would go on for, or were you taking it season by season and assessing after that? Brian Koppelman: I think the only way one can think about this is: Do you think at the beginning of something like this, it sets up to be the kind of story you could tell over a long period of time? Do the characters have enough of a charge in them, and does the world suggest the possibility for enough conflict and story and resonance to the society that you’re living in? For us, the answers to those questions were yes, and so it was like, well, let’s try. Each season, you empty the clip. Each season, you try to tell the absolute best story you can—you don’t save ideas. That’s what David Chase said, and that’s what Matt Weiner said, and that was our approach. But we did it weirdly, we had the first three seasons and we knew, if we can do it— David Levien: The broad strokes were mapped out. Koppelman: So then as you’re doing that, you start to think, OK, two more seasons out, and two more seasons out. In a way, yes, we certainly never felt like more than seven seasons was the right answer. At a certain point, Billions watchers were not casual fans. They were people who watched the show more than once and really invested in the canted world that these characters live in. Getting that kind of response, knowing that if we had a character have an odd enthusiasm or interesting reverence, that there were a lot of people out there to catch what we were throwing, that really does act as fuel.

With a show like this, what’s the biggest challenge in landing the plane? My mind goes straight to just how loaded and talented the ensemble is, and trying to give every character a worthy sendoff. Levien: Yeah, that was a big part of it. We wanted to have a good resolution for so many different characters. Over the course of the final season, we wanted to revisit tons of guest stars, and then for the core group, we had a good amount of people that needed a moment. Also, a lot of different pairings of people that needed to have resolution. It was a question of balancing that valedictory stuff with wrapping up the plot in an exciting way, so that you weren’t sitting there, having stopped moving, basically for the goodbyes. That’s what we spent the most time on: balancing in the final episode how to unfurl the big plot moves, and filtering in all of the more emotional stuff.

The public perception of billionaires has evolved quite a bit since the start of the series—there’s more scrutiny, and even animosity. Did that affect not just your approach to the series, but how you introduced a new foil like Mike Prince? Levien: Yeah, I mean that totally informed it. When we started, we were very focused on these hedge fund billionaires who really didn’t like to be in the spotlight, and they didn’t really advertise that they were building anything for the good of humanity. They all generally did some philanthropy, but even that wasn’t super public. But then after a couple of years as we were into it, we started to realize that there was this new kind of a billionaire who maybe came from venture capital, or was an inventor, or in private equity or something, and they were bringing these ideas to benefit mankind and help everybody. Koppleman: But putting air quotes around [benefiting mankind], we didn’t find that credible. Levien: Maybe they tried, but the idea that by virtue of all the success, they had all the answers in every field, and that politics was a natural extension of that. So yeah, Mike Prince got introduced as this wonderful guy who had all the answers and didn’t even show you that he was competitive. Because he was so warm and cuddly, like a cuddly monster as he calls himself. But then as you spend more time with him, you start to see the darker hues that everybody gets alarmed by. Koppelman: But also, Miles, your question is interesting because it comes from a very particular point of view—of geography, age, profession. In fact, it’s not true, right? It’s true in the microcosm, it’s completely not true in the macro. I mean, look at Shark Tank and Mark Cuban in the world, and yes, one may decry Elon [Musk], but just go online today and say something bad about him. It’s interesting that you asked the question. I would ask you to actually probe that because you stated it like it’s a fact, but it’s a fact for a group of people who feel a certain way. Perhaps we’re in that group of people with you, who have a jaundiced eye toward that kind of power. But one of the things we learned in making the show was that in our minds, Axe was never the hero of the show. From Episode 6 of the first season on, we slowly reveal that Axe is essentially the kind of utilitarian who would let a guy die for a little more money and security. And we were shocked that the audience loved him even more. Levien: They thought he was a badass for that. Koppelman: We were revealing that, yes, this guy’s charming and powerful and charismatic and has great verbal skills and is a winner. But you—us—should regard him with huge amounts of suspicion, and a huge amount of awareness for the destructive power that’s on the flip side of all the gifts. At the same time, that’s when the country elects Trump—at the end of the first season, that’s when that happened. We were watching the culture in a wrestling match about this question. Perhaps for you it’s settled, but I don’t think it’s settled for most of America.

I guess I would counter that with the guild strikes. Obviously, it’s more specific to our industry, but the last time the writers were on strike, there wasn’t as much public support for it. When you lay out the facts for people, fewer will side with the studios and these wealthy executives. We don’t have to get into all that, and maybe it’s not a true consensus, but I feel like— Koppelman: That’s the media. I mean, fans of the show couldn’t help getting some kind of wish fulfillment thing going with Axe. It’s like Tony Soprano or Walter White. People might not get the right message from it. They might just idolize these people. Koppelman: I’m really interested in what we’re going to discover about these kinds of people. I understand why we all would decry them. I’m really interested in why they’re effective so we can learn from it as a society. It’s fascinating to explore it, for me, with curiosity.

Diving into the finale—hopefully it goes without saying that this is a compliment—but seeing all the characters and the way they orchestrated Prince’s downfall, it almost felt like something out of an Ocean’s movie. These long cons—and seeing how all the pieces fall into place—have been one of the show’s biggest calling cards. As the creative architects behind these moments, what goes into making a long con and executing it well? Koppelman: Imperfect information. Levien: To the audience. Koppelman: Right. The thing that makes someone good at poker is understanding how to look at imperfect information, and if you’re telling a story, it’s how to distribute information with holes in it that might lead somebody a certain way. You know, it’s this old [Quentin] Tarantino thing, where he talked about the challenge of audiences being so sophisticated. They’ve ridden the roller coaster so many times that they start leaning left before the roller coaster banks left. Quentin’s point is that, as a creator, you have to find a way to get them leaning left and then whip right.

One thing that struck me this season was the emphasis on self-improvement from the characters. For instance, Chuck chose to help Ira with the cellphone sex tape scandal instead of throwing him under the bus. Characters didn’t necessarily change who they were as much as becoming better versions of themselves. What inspired that shift? Levien: There has to be some kind of evolution. For some characters, they can change more. Taylor can take a stride and finally deploy money in a way that’s going to be philanthropic. For someone like Chuck, he’s not going to change completely elementally, but he can still take steps—small steps. That reflected a reality to us and yet it stayed true to his character. It’s an interesting contrast to Prince. The other characters are willing to acknowledge their flaws and work on them, whereas Prince can only choose to believe that he’s a righteous person. Levien: That’s something that we were working with, which is that the main characters ultimately looked at who they were and knew who they were. He was the one guy who was in denial, and that was his fatal flaw.

The characters on Billions have been driven by constant schemes to acquire more power or money—or both—and it’s hard to imagine that stopping just because the show is ending. Have you put any thought into where you see characters like Axe, Chuck, Taylor, and Wendy in five or 10 years? Koppelman: It’s real intentional what Axe’s last lines are. We don’t really talk in terms of statements we’re trying to make. But he’s someone with all those options in life, all those tools, all that money, all that ability to buy freedom, to have freedom. Yet the only place that he feels really alive is talking to this group of mostly men and saying, “Let’s make some fucking money.” There is something about that that we wanted to leave you with, and have you think about. We hope you’ll consider why that made you feel the way it made you feel. We watched [the finale] in a theater recently and [the audience] was cheering [for Axe], and it’s like, well, why? What are you cheering for, exactly? We’re really interested in that question.

One of the joys of Billions is seeing all the celebrity cameos, and this season you got the likes of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Triple H, and Killer Mike. Are there any celebrities at the top of the wishlist who didn’t appear on the show? Koppelman: Tiger Woods was the only clean turndown. With Tiger, there was nothing we could do. [Woods’s longtime agent Mark Steinberg] just wrote back, “No.” We know from someone that Tiger watches the show and he likes the show. But the answer was no. There is one heartbreak, and we haven’t said this to anyone, but we were really close to getting the great Steve Harvey on our show. Really? Levien: He was extremely difficult to get to. Even considering all the people that we got, he was the toughest. Koppelman: We had a really special thing we’d written for Steve Harvey and we could never quite make it. Sadly, there was a scheduling snafu and he was on a Zoom that we didn’t know about, waiting for us. And you do not make a man like Steve Harvey wait. It’s crushing to us—we hope that whatever we do next, we can find a way to get Mr. Harvey to show up just one day. One day with Mr. Harvey and my entire life would be better.

Showtime already told me that you don’t have any updates on the Billions spinoffs. Instead, I’ve got a pitch for you guys: I’m thinking Maestro Scooter at the New York Philharmonic going full Lydia Tar. Levien: When Scooter gets the baton in his hand, he starts to become a driven maniac. Koppelman: I think you’ll understand, Miles, that under normal circumstances, of course we would welcome you into the writers room. But we can’t poach from Bill Simmons, and that’s the only reason. Otherwise, we would tell you to create that for us under our umbrella. But we have to close that umbrella because we’re under Bill’s umbrella. (Editor’s note: Koppelman and Levien hosted a Billions podcast with The Ringer during Season 5.) Of course, the separation of church and state. I understand. I just wanted to throw it out there, and obviously you’ll be hearing from my lawyers if Maestro Scooter does happen. Koppelman: I feel if you write this without acknowledging the tennis loss, you’re not including your bias in the piece. Levien: It’s going to be one of those profile-y things where it’s like, “Koppelman likes to bully about his tennis.” Wow, you had to bring up the loss again. Koppelman: I think of it as a win.

[aiiizawa]

Let's spice it up! 5, 13, & 16 for Mic?

OOH YES LOVE A PRESIDENT MICHAEL.  he’s my friend.

5.  Guilty pleasures

Present Mic is a man of little shame so his “guilty” pleasures are few and far between but he is a tiny bit embarrassed of the fact that he unironically likes really bad nightcore remixes and listens to them a lot.  He also likes Nickelback and you can’t change my mind.

13.  What gets them flustered

Genuine flattery and affection gets Mic flustered no matter what.  Because he’s lowkey famous, he’s often being called cool and stuff, and make no mistake, he drinks that shit up like nothing else-- but it’s the soft, earnest and heartfelt compliments that make him clam up and go red all the way to his ears.  Anything that might not be noticed right away and stuff like that makes his heart skip a beat.  Also he will die if you gently brush his arm that’s his weak spot.

16.  Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’

Despite what BNHA conspiracy theorists might say, I reaaaaally doubt that he has anything like that.  Mic is highly intelligent and definitely has the potential to be sneaky and devious, but he’s a very transparent guy and I think he values honesty and integrity a lot-- It’s part of the reason he and Aizawa are able to be friends:  Aizawa can’t stand fakeness or anything put on, and even though Mic can grate on his nerves, he knows that he’s sincere.  If he had any kind of “dark secret” it would be something silly like that his hair isn’t a natural blonde and that he dyes it to keep up the illusion, but he that he still feels guilty for hiding.

[forcesensitivebantha]

-chanting- let Errol fall in love with the scary death angel

Click for better quality y'all

[lummophoenix]

jumping on the bandwagon....