#please just give us somewhere to watch it in the eu

[peaceoutofthepieces]

i just want to watch the ari and dante movie you don't understand how much it would heal me 😭

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Ok in honor of the new boyfriend selfie ruben posted, can u pls write something about him as a boyfriend. Like him being really needy to his gf, sending her silly pics like that when they’re away, and being very clingy and constantly needing affection from the gf when they are finally at home together

Here it is! Hope you like it, please let me know!😌

Needy, Cute and Manly Boyfriend -R.D3

Summary: He loves having your attention

You couldn't help but smile at your phone. Your 3 years boyfriend, Rúben sent you a pic of himself and your dog, Simba. You instantly replied with a quick "my baby's😍❤️. Love you both so much"

Soon Rúben sent another selfie, this one only of himself, at the bottom there was a text "What time you'll be home? I miss you"

You were going to reply but were interrupted by a call from you boyfriend, you quickly answered it.

"Meu amor" He said "I miss you"

"I miss you too, babe; but I still have another class to go, I'll be out in about an hour and a half, after that I'm all yours"

"You already are mine"

"Well yes but you know what I mean" Rúben chuckles

"Let me know, I'll pick go and pick you up"

"Thanks, Rú. But there's no need, Lisa can give me a ride home, you're pretty tired baby, have some rest"

"None of that. You said an hour and a half, right? I'll be there"

"You're so stubborn"

"Teimoso e tudo mas é assim que me amas" (Stubborn and everything but that's how you love me)

You smile nodding "That I do" You blow him a kiss "I need to go to class right now but I'll text you as soon as I'm done, handsome"

"You do that, bonita" (beautiful) He blows a kiss into the phone "Eu amo-te, amor"

"Love you too, baby. See ya later" and with that you hung up the call and entered your class.

After what felt like an eternity you went out discussing some points with your best friend.

"But it doesn't matter if we are different mentions?"

"I don't think so to be honest"

"And what about that neurology oratory? You're planning on going?" You nod

"Dr. Jones will do it and I think it will be good, you know? He's one of the best out here and it'll fantastic if I can do my internships in his hospital"

"You're good, you will do!" She nudges your shoulder

"We don't know about that, I need to be the first one in class"

"As if you aren't?" You gave her a look before she smirked "Prince charming's here for you" You turned around to see a very well known Ferrari and your boyfriend leaning up against the car with a cap on his head. "See ya, girl!" Lisa hugged you over your shoulders, kissed you cheek and let you go

"See ya, Li" You smiled at her before walking up to your boyfriend. "Hello"

"Hello, meu Amor" You quickly gave him a kiss on his lips, his hands went over to your waist pulling you closer "Let's go home?" You nod with a smile on.

He kisses your cheek before opening the door for you and helping you get in.

You push your backpack to the backseat and wait for Rúben to start the car.

"How was your day, querida?" (Darling) He asks, his hand going straight to your thigh

"It was good! We did a pop quiz, teacher told us to go out whenever we finished and at the end he gave us the results right there and then"

"How did it go?"

"Amazing!" You smile widely "I absolutely rubbed my full grade into his face"

"Is that professor the one you told me about?" You hum "What was his nickname? Doc. Mean?" You hum

"He's just awful" He laughs "And he looks exactly like Emmet Brown"

"The doc from Back to the Future?" You nod and Rúben squeezes your thigh laughing "He does look like him"

"Awful" You laugh with him as you watch how he changes the route to your house "You need to go somewhere?"

"We are going somewhere" He put emphasis to the we

"Where are we going then?"

"To get some burgers"

"You don't eat them"

"But you do" He shrugs "I can have a little cheat day"

"You having a cheat day?" Rúben looks at you during a red light "What did you do to my boyfriend?"

"No. What did you do to me? I never break a diet until you came around"

"So I'm at fault?"

"More or less, you love burgers and I love you. Having a burger once in a while won't kill me"

"It better not. I'll be a widow even before getting married"

"That's definitely something we don't want"

"Definitely not" You grip his hand with one of yours and hug his arm with the other "Can you also get me a?" -

"Double meat, double cheese burger with extra fries and a chocolate chip cookie? I know"

"I know you know... But I wanted-"

"An iced caramel mocha?" You look at him narrowing your eyes

"You know me"

"I have to, tu és a minha menina" (you're my girl) you smiled feeling him leaning over the console to kiss you quickly. He rolled down the window and greeted the worker before ordering.

A few minutes later, both of you were on your way back to your house, singing and humming along the songs on your shared playlist.

"Gonna take a quick shower, I'll be back in ten" You said as soon as you got inside, however Simba made it difficult for you, he wanted his attention. "You're my babyboy but you gotta let me go and take a shower, baby"

"Simba, I'm the only one who can jump on her!" You heard Rúben's voice inside the kitchen and then you heard the blender go on

"Dad's jealous. You're my baby" You kissed his fourry face.

"Weren't you going to shower?"

"I'm giving my baby love"

"You don't need to give Simba that much of love, you can give it to me"

"Are you jealous of a dog?"

"Pufff!" He gave you a look "Obviously yes. I'm supposed to be the only one you give your love and attention to"

"You are. But also is Simba" You kissed the dog's head once again

"Nonono!" His cries made you laugh "Simba, get off!"

"He likes the attention way too much"

"Even I do if it's yours!" You break in laughter

"You know I'll give you all my attention after I shower and eat?"

"What are you waiting for to do that?" He asks making you laugh more

"You are so jealous of your dog"

"I am!"

"Please don't take it in the wrong way but you're so needy, I love it"

"I'm not needy"

"És tão giro" (You're so cute) You said in between giggles

"Sou um homem viril, não sou giro" (I'm a manly man, I'm not cute)

"You are both, actually"

"Go take a shower, I'll set something up so we can watch while we eat and you love on me"

"Sounds like a deal" Rúben smiled before turning around to the kitchen "Hey" You call him as he turns

"What?"

You grab his hand and pull him down so you could kiss his lips softly "My needy, cute and manly boyfriend"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[my-mt-heart]

Next part of that ask:

Is France confirmed as the filming location, or is that Twitter hearsay? If anyone has a credible source, could you let me know where to find it, please?

On the one hand, France is a good location to shoot because of privacy laws and on the other, not so good because of labor laws. I would have expected, even though the show will be set in France, that shooting would take place somewhere like the Czech Republic. Cheaper, just as pretty and usually you can get a more English-speaking crew in Central Europe. Within the EU, you have to use locals, both for crew and cast because of work permit regulations. You can apply for visas for principal cast and make a case for the director and maybe DP, but you can't bring a whole production with you.

There are a number of possibilities for why they'd shoot where the star is going to be, but the simplest explanation is not some underhanded ploy by NR to push MMB out. Both Ride with Reedus and Romp with Daryl are AMC shows. When the production schedule got pushed forward, the most expedient way to go about that is to locate to where their other show will shoot.

I suspect that the schedule was moved up so that Angela Kang could be pushed out.

Gimple seemed to micromanage World Beyond, he got his action adventure blockbuster features snatched away and as icing on his cake, his showrunner replacement for TWD not only turned an ancient show around. She actually got positive acclaim for what she was doing with it. By having the production schedule change, AK can be removed from the project without too many raised eyebrows and Rick & Daryl's Excellent Adventure reverts back into Gimple's control.

The structure for TWD is a little bit different because normally, as a showrunner you answer to the head of programming at the studio (usually there's an executive for drama, i.e. one-hour shows and another for comedy, half-hour shows) and depending on the situation, you might occasionally be in contact with the head of the network. In this situation, there's the awkwardly titled Chief Content Officer for the franchise inserted to the mix.

I can only assume that the initial idea was for the drama exec to be the checks and balances Gimple needs, but there's been so many personnel changes at AMC and with Covid too, maybe no one is keeping an eye on his performance? AK would be checking in with these two for progress updates and what Gimple should be doing is to make sure that the different shows don't contradict each other on lore and setting. He should not be weighing in on character and plot development within the confines of a specific show.

I hope you will give AK's future projects a watch. Getting shoved aside like this after a decade and after clawing back viewers and dollars for AMC, has to hurt pretty badly.

Under Gimple's control, there's no way the Caryl spinoff would've been any good, and now that it's just Daryl? I shudder to think what will become of his character, the one Angela Kang brought back to life. Her original concept was the franchise's golden ticket and now it's just gone :(

[lightfromandromeda]

media progress

was making a big big post that got deleted so im trying again hhhhhhh. me thoughts on what ive watched/read/listened to about classic who, eu, some nuhwo

Second Doctor

I finished the second doctor awhile ago and i fucking adored him. he was just a  silly old man and he cared about his friends so much ;w; i thought it was rly sweet that he took in victoria but also like my man this fuckin babey child lost everything and ur putting her into terrifying and dangerous situations like SIR. i lov LOVED the rly sweet moments she and the doctor had tho, specifically the one in the tomb of the cybermen where theyre taking turns sleeping. and when she left, jamie was so devastated he cares he much. hes a huge women protector and if theres no women around to protect he only has a half hour til his brain explodes. LOVE THIS MAN. HES A FUCKING GOOFBALL. hes brave, headstrong, and denser than a brick and with a heart of pure gold. and zoe. zoe my fucking bb grill. first of all i absolutely love it when she tears ppl into shreds with her huge brain. and like,,, i know it rly wasnt addressed again but i rly felt with her struggle of being so logical and computer like that ppl would give her a hard time about not being emotional (OH THE IRONY) and i wished that was addressed more? i like how her and the doctor are on the same like intellectual wavelength and he and jamie will tease her about it a lil like ‘oh did u calculate that too’ and she’ll be like yeah i fucking did what did u do huh huh. she was the best and these three were my fav team in a long time. all of their departures made me so sad but im also surprised it wasnt sadder? jamie and zoe being forced back where they were when the doctor picked them up and they dont wanna go!!!!! but when theyre told they have to theyre like aw :( alright like NO MAKE A STINK ABOUT IT!!!! especially zoe!!!! shes just going back to ppl who wouldnt rly listen to her or take her seriously as a person and i think she shouldve been more upset honestly!!!!! i loved it tho when the doctor and the other time lords were watching jamie when he got back to his time and he immediately sees a redcoat and is like ‘oh ill get this bastard’ and chases after him with a knife while the doctor just smiles and laughs cUZ THATS HIS BEST FUCKING FRIEND. GUHHUGHG. i love how throughout the doctors life he still loves jamie and thinks of him as one of his best friends ever. the second doctor is definitely somewhere in the top for me out of all the doctors ive seen. ill prob listen and read a bunch of his short trips and other stories thru big finish with him

Third Doctor  

uh oh grumpy!!!! grumpy guy!!!! grumpy guy thats pissed off at his ppl for stranding him on earth!! but ofc hes still got some silliness in him, i dont think he could survive without it. i thought this was a fun setup for the doctor cuz it rly challenges him. he cant go where he pleases, hes stuck using very limited or primitive technology, hes sent along or dragged places when things get fucky and has to sort them out, has to deal with soldiers, other military ppl, ppl of authority that 90% of the time doesnt listen to him, and he fucking hates it. and he hates it even more when the timelords start using him and make him deal with their problems. hes trying so hard to get his life back to normal. he loves earth but more as a playground then as a place to live. i think liz kept him sane in the beginning which is why he was so disappointed when she left, which like me too king there wasnt enough of her she was awesome. and jo :3. i lov her. shes not the brightest but her heart is in the right place. i fucking loved when the doctor was complaining to the brig how he couldnt just hav anyone as an assistant and needed a scientist and the brig just goes,,,, yeah i can get you a different assistant,,,, if you tell jo that youre letting her go. and of course he wouldnt. im not sure if he could in any of his regenerations. hes a grump but still a softie!!!! DR: “Jo i just wanted to tell you-”    JO: OwO    DR: “....that i look forward to working with you” YEA THATS RIGHT.  i lov that shes sneaky and honestly resourceful AND I WISH THE DOCTOR WOULDNT BE SO MEAN TO HER!!! BE NICE TO HER OLD MAN!!! anyway the master is also here and hes so saturday morning cartoon villain and its so fun. i love how the master and the doctor interact with each other like,,, i can smell it,,, homosexual in nature but theyre being veeeeerryy professional about it. almost done with season 9

Eighth Doctor

i cannot accurately describe my love and joy for the eighth in words. besides words like hes my blorbo,,, the scrungkly if you will. i LOVE HIM!!!!!! s o much!!!! hes kind, real goofy, genuine, full of compassion, sarcastic, theatrical, and soooooo fucked up :). ive listened to all of charleys and lucies era including their further adventures (my girls my fucking beloveds), the stories with mary shelley, just started dark eyes last night, and im on the 17th book in the edas. i adore charley and want to listen/read everything there is with her in it, which ive done a lot of already, just not her stories with 6 yet. i wanted to watch 6 in classic who first but since im not even done with the third doctor yet ITLL BE AWHILE. and lucie BABEY. i think the best dr/companion relationship is when theyre just best friends. just two fuckin goofballs that enjoy being around each other. lucie loved the doctor so much cuz they had so much fun together and she was rly good at getting shit done. cuz its lucie miller ofc. ANDANDNAND WHEN FUCKING SUSAN CAME BACK i loved hers and the doctors reunion u could hear how happy both of them were just to see each other again U COULD HEAR THE SMILES and it KILLED ME. my favs of the eda books so far are vampire science, genocide, alien bodies, kursaal, seeing i, and the scarlet empress. and i lov sam so much. starts off as a tough butch teenager that wants to do good for the world. i think its very cute that she tries to be all cool and nonchalant when with the doctor cuz thats soooo teenager behavior. at first i refused to acknowledge her crush on the doctor (i wanted it to be familial cuz thats what it felt like!!!) but i like how she explored her thoughts with that. i mean she was way in over her head by starting from the ground up on a different planet in her far future just so she woudlnt have to face the doctor cuz she was so embarrassed. #girl i must say. now shes over it i think? in the scarlet empress she said that she loved him to whatever that thing was in that river but it wasnt clear to me if it was romantic or if she was just saying that they were close (im also stupid so). hope its not romantic, ive never rly been a fan of romance (ex ive never rly cared much for tenrose). ive been saying this from the start give this old man a child to care for (not like a beby child like a teenager/young adult). ANYWAY im very excited to continue dark eyes, i lov molly very much so far, and the rest of the books. and a bunch of other audios with the 8th dr like short trips and specials.

Tenth Doctor

i listened to the first audio from dalek universe 1 and uh wow. its good!!! ill be honest i dont remember some of it cuz i was rly high and tired listening to it but it was still alot of fun. i was worried i had to know who anya was before starting but luckily that wasnt the case. its funny going back to the tenth doctor cuz he was my top favorite for the longest time so im just like,, ‘whos my fav little pinstriped hellion :3 U ARE U FREAK!!!!’ i dont hav much of an opinion yet since ive only listened to one story but so far its fun !! and will def listen to more.

13 + other eu

i havent touched nuwho since i finished the 12fth drs run cuz i def needed a lil fictional grieving time. im a bit hesitant on watching the 13th dr cuz ive heard soooo many differing opinions about her stories and how shes written. i also know various spoilers which doesnt rly matter cuz i dont hav most of the context that goes with it. im also worried im not gonna like yaz much. i think overall im gonna like it cuz its doctor who and its fun and i enjoy things easily. i just dont know when im going to start it. cuz man theres so much. so much to consume. i also rly wanna get into the gaillfrey series but i havent seen any of romana or leela in the show cuz im not there yet. i prob dont have to to start it but whatev.

[inonibird]

Sahuldeem/Kaleesh Q&A #4

Here we go again! If your questions are featured here, I’ve included your username in the tags! And do note I’ve also included the spoiler tag. >_> (questions bold; answers italic)

Out of curiosity, what first got you interested in the Grievous backstory? Boy, I wish I had a COOL STORY, but it’s pretty much: General Grievous was randomly brought up in something I was watching and so I started searching around and came across clips of his 2003 incarnation—on two separate occasions over the course of multiple years. It took until the second time this happened for me to latch onto it, possibly because was around the same time as the combined hype for The Rise of Skywalker (which did not live up to it) and first season of The Mandalorian (which did). I very quickly went from “hey, this guy does have a cool design” to “what’s his story?” and the rest is history.

Please tell us so much about Kaleesh biology. How good is their hearing? Are their bones more or less flexible than humans? How much can the average Kaleesh bench-press? How much can Qymaen bench-press? What’s the closest living relative to the Kaleesh in the Kalee animal kingdom? What’s the purpose for the tusks, beyond aesthetics?

I’m in love with your worldbuilding and have about as many questions as Huk Qymaen has killed. Oh jeez, thanks! There are questions here that I HAVEN’T actually put much thought into, oh no! The best I can do without doing some improvisational worldbuilding is: their hearing is at least as good as a human’s; the average Kaleesh warrior can bench-press…uh, more than Sheelal-era Qymaen (sorry buddy); and yeah, tusks are pretty much all about display/aesthetics (they are secondary sex characteristics and...well, more along the lines of “eyy check these out” than “LET ME FIGHT YOU WITH MY FACE”).

Sometime I recommend transliterating Kaleesh words into Cyrillic and running them through Google Translate’s Russian text reader. It’s so satisfying. Долхлава. Какмусмэ. Урукишнугал. Колкправис. Рондеру лидж Куммар. Амаги дин Ку-лиана. Малга Шапра.

(No, I didn’t just spend all night doing this, why do you ask?) First of all, this was really fun to do. It’s still wild to hear these words and names said out loud! Usually sounds spot-on, too. Second and less relevant, I was FAR too proud of myself for being able to remember enough Cyrillic to be able to read all of the Kaleesh words up there. But of course context helps. :’D

You know what would be cool? A picture of the entire Gang together before ... you know. This is something I have indeed considered drawing! Someday… Maybe a candid group photo with some sort of salvaged Huk cam that Amagi and Jindra have just figured out how to make work? xD

So Ronderu’s what, three years older than Qymaen? Two? Three years, weighted closer to four than to two. (note to self: Kaleesh calendar)

I absolutely adore and admire the amount of detail and work that you've put into this fanfic, I really wish this was current canon! This has also gotten me interested in wanting to know more about the Kaleesh–Bitthævrian War and Grievous's grandmother who was in it, while also inspiring me to want to make my own headcanons about it. Thank you so much! It sure is MY personal canon, and I’m so glad there are some folks out there enjoying it and drawing inspiration from it, too. I can’t see myself having the energy anytime soon to flesh out more about the Kaleesh-Bitthævrian War and his great-elder-mother, but it certainly would be very cool to read a short story about it~ ;D (btw, according to the “The Story of General Grievous: Lord of War” article, it was his great-grandmother, not his grandmother, who fought in the Kaleesh-Bitthævrian War. I think Wookieepedia may have been updated incorrectly at some point!)

That is an interesting revelation in the new chapter! I was wondering, is Zigmash & the concept of 'Planet Name' Spice something you created, or are you building off of something from the EU? Ah, so Aza just refers to zigmash as “Kaleesh spice” for lack of a better descriptor; it’s clearly a drug and it’s from Kalee, but it makes it offworld so rarely there’s no general term for it. Zigmash itself is my invention; Kalee’s resources were not considered valuable to the Yam’rii, but that’s not to say they have to be entirely nonexistent! (in this case, there is DEFINITELY stronger, more desirable spice out there in the galaxy; as Aza herself notes, it’s more the scarcity and unusual source that makes it marketable).

Sooooo the kaleesh babies

They are adorable, mother instinct activated!

But then i realized something, read it somewhere else on the Internet that said Grievous had like 30 children after Ronderu's death, any specific thoughts on that I'm just curious👀

(Qymaen doesn't look that fertile but who knows) I mean. Well. Yeah. Give him time. (and…10 wives…) >_> ...Also Kaleesh reproduction ≠ human reproduction, wheee~ ........................You’ll learn more about all of this in Part Three.

What do Zaebar’s and Amagi’s kakmusmal look like? I do plan on drawing them sometime! (that reminds me, I still need to draw clan sigils! augh! so many plans, so little time!) Most kakmusmal look pretty similar, since they’re all carved to fit the general shape of Kaleesh faces, but they use different animal skulls (common to the region) for the base. Zaebar’s is likely from a pakozri, and Amagi’s is made from an amsi.

[seeing-the-light]

New Dream Appreciation Week Day 4: AU

@gleamful-lanterns @autumn-ravenclaw

A View Like This Read on AO3 “Excuse me... sir? Are you okay?”  Eugene blinked, startled at the sudden address. He’d spaced out a bit, and must’ve been scowling thinking about his stupid father, and this stupid train ride in the snow to get to him, because of stupid reunions or whatever, and-  “Fine.” He muttered, before he looked up from his seat to see who was addressing him- and froze.   The emerald eyes of a woman - younger than him, but not by much, he guessed - stared back at him, brimming with concern. He cursed, internally - this wasn’t the place to let himself slip like that - and straightened, abruptly, “Sorry. That was terribly rude of me, I-“  “Oh, no it’s fine!” She said, hurriedly. Her gaze darted up and down the train corridor as the man behind her coughed, impatiently. “In fact, I’m... sorry for disturbing you, actually, it’s just that... you’re sorta in my seat?” 

The words were delivered in the most apologetic way, but Eugene’s brow furrowed. “Oh? No, I’m pretty sure this is my- ah, drat.” He realized, looking over his ticket. “You’re right.” Stupid window seats.  Why would he want those, all there was to look at was- 

 “... You don’t want the window.” She guessed, tentatively, breaking him out of his thought spiral again. There was something... bubbling underneath her tone, now, and Eugene looked up at her again, from gathering his belongings to shift to the inner seat. 

 “Not particularly. What’s there to se-“ 

 “Can I have it please, then? I’d love to look outside and see all the people and lights and sheep and-“ She cut herself off, abruptly, and gave an awkward laugh, trying to compose herself. “Sorry. But. Would you mind if I took it, then?”

 Something of a smile had begun to cross his face at her enthusiasm, and he found himself rising to let her in and gestured as if he’d just opened a door for her. “Be my guest.” 

 This made her give a tiny giggle, as she squeezed in past him. The man behind her was practically glaring daggers at her for holding up the line at this point, and something made Eugene decide he disliked him instantly. 

 He sat back down as she moved to arrange her belongings. Mostly, he just stared at his hands, and the rest of car- for some reason it felt like watching her do that would be awkward, which was weird, because awkward wasn’t a feeling Eugene Fitzherbert felt very often. 

 ... correction. Awkward wasn’t a feeling Flynn Rider felt very often, and Flynn was all that mattered to most everyone, because he was far more exciting and charming, without any of the fears and insecurities. In short, Flynn was the much better option. 

 “So, Blondie-“ 

 “Rapunzel.”

 “Gesudenheit.”

 She gave him a slightly annoyed look, and Eugene raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “My name is Rapunzel.”

 “Rapunzel.” He tried it around in his mouth. “Rolls off the tongue, surprisingly.” His brow furrowed in thought, thinking back to his attempted university days. “Say, isn’t that some kind of flower?” 

 “It is!” All at once, her animation was back. Eugene was just relieved he hadn’t made another misstep - for some reason, he was already beginning to care what she thought. 

 That’s dangerous, Rider. He told himself, internally. Letting people in was dangerous. Pretty soon they’d find the cracks in your armor, and stab, hard, when the moment was just right. 

 But he wasn’t going to think about Stalyan, right now, and how she was why he was on this stupid train ride to begin with. 

 “I can’t believe you know that! Most people just think it’s... weird. Or random.” She shrugged, playing with her braid instead of looking at him 

 “I don’t think it’s weird or random, it’s kinda pretty.” He responded, before he could stop himself. Dangerous, Flynn, he thought, as her face flushed lightly because of it. “Well,” He amended, trying to recover. “It’s a little weird. But in the unique way, not the bad way.”

“Pretty and unique, huh…” She gave him a small smile. “I think I’ll take it.”

 “Great, because I regret to inform you I don’t offer refunds.” He quipped. Wasn’t his best work, but it made her laugh, so he counted it as a success. Not that he quite knew what he was trying to succeed at.

“So, Mr I-Hate-Window-Seats, you have my name, it’s only fair that I learn yours.” “Now that’s just not fair-“

 “You called me Blondie.”

“Because you actually have blonde hair!” Some of the passengers nearby turned to look over at them, so Eugene lowered his voice, though it did nothing to diminish his indignation. “I don’t hate window seats.”

“You seemed awfully keen to give yours up.” “Yeah, well, that’s because-“ Eugene gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh. “I hate snow.”

 “How could you hate snow?” The look she gave him was borderline horrified. “It’s so white, and pretty, and it makes everything sparkle, and you can go sledding and make snowmen and snow angels and have snowball fights and then later on when you’re tired out you can go inside and wrap yourself up in cozy blankets and sit by the fire- snow is magical.”

“Some of us don’t have much cause for magic, Blondie.” Eugene said, in a much more subdued tone, staring at his hands. Stalyan used to make a show of being cold, sometimes, so he’d be obligated to give her his jacket. In retrospect, he thought she just liked watching him shiver.

 But his comment had left the conversation at an awkward pause- he had to save it, somehow. “It’s just cold, and wet, and it gets everywhere…”

 “…did you just use your hatred for snow to make a Star Wars reference?”

The small smile Eugene gave her could only best be described as dorky. “…maybe.”

 “Oh my god.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You know, you still haven’t told me what your name is.”

 “Hm….” Flynn Rider or Eugene Fitzherbert. Eugene Fitzherbert or Flynn Rider. It should’ve been an easy choice. It should’ve been easy, second nature, Hey, the name’s Flynn Rider, rinse and repeat.

 So why did he have this overwhelming, annoying urge to tell her the truth?

 “Flynn.” He said, before he could second guess himself, though if anything the answer he’d chosen just made him feel more like a coward. “Call me Flynn.”

“Flynn.” Rapunzel’s eyes twinkled as she said it, and somehow in that moment it sounded better than any time anyone else had ever said that name. “I like it.”

                                                          * * *

 Eugene – no, Flynn, he supposed, because of that split-second decision – had a big problem.

 He was trapped.

 Now, most traps weren’t really enough to hold him down for long. He’d been in and out of enough cells and vaults to know a thing or two about breaking out.

 His current predicament, however, was … rather more delicate.

 You see, he and Rapunzel had chatted about things for about an hour or so in fits and starts, when she’d decided to put her headphones in and journal for a bit. Flynn, being the gentlemen that he always was, had pulled out a book, to give her some privacy and  make it obvious that he wouldn’t be reading over her shoulder.

 But somewhere in there, she’d fallen asleep. Fallen asleep, and now she was resting her head on his shoulder.

This is dangerous, Flynn, He reminded himself, again. If he knew what was best for him, he'd wake her up right now. But he didn't. Honestly, more than any personal discomfort, he just... wasn’t sure how she’d react when she woke up. But she’d whimpered in protest when he’d tried to move her off, and he didn’t have the heart (funny, really, that he still had one of those) to try that again.

 And he’d picked up a few things from their conversation – she was an art major, at university, who was somehow trying to cram as many additional majors and minors into her degree as humanly possible. She truly seemed to enjoy learning, just for learning’s sake, and that outlook… well, it was refreshing. It wasn’t an attitude he came across often in his own circles.  But this was her first big trip on her own, without anyone – hence the pent-up excitement that’d released in sporadic outbursts, earlier. She was juggling a lot, and she had a lot ahead of her, so maybe it was best to let her rest.

 She’d tried to turn some of his questions on him, too. Not in an intrusive way – he didn’t know how to explain it, but he didn’t think she was manipulating him. It seemed more like she was just… genuinely interested in learning more about him of all people, which was bizarre.

 So he’d told her a few things. How he’d recently had a bad breakup [leaving out the altar part]. How she’d retaliated by exposing his whereabouts to the father who’d abandoned him as an infant out of some misplaced desire to protect him.

 You know, just the light material.

Her eyes had grown round and wide, even at that much. “Maybe you should give him a chance, though. What if he really was trying to protect you?”

Flynn’s eyes grew harder, but Eugene could only think about hungry nights and always being on the run. “If he was,” He found himself saying, in a low tone. “Then he was just as shitty at that as he is at being a father.” Rapunzel had gone quiet at that. From what he’d gleaned, her parents were a shade overprotective – her father, in particular, seemed borderline stifling – but on the whole they were fairly supportive of her interests. There was something darker hiding behind that, he thought, something in her past that cast shadows over everything she said if you squinted for long enough – but she never alluded to it, and he wasn’t going to pry.

 His thoughts were cut off by the train jolting, abruptly. Rapunzel gave a startled yelp, looking around frantically, before slowly coming to rest on him. She glanced at his shoulder, then back at him. “Was I-“

 “Don’t mention it.” Eu – Flynn said, moving to stand slowly to see if he could glean any information on why they’d stopped.

 As if on cue, a voice came crackling over the intercom. “Good evening, passengers. It appears our passage forward has been blocked by a fallen tree. We’re going to do our best to resolve this as quickly as possible, but in the meantime, please sit tight. We appreciate your patience.”

“Great.” He muttered, aloud. “Just great. As if the snow wasn’t enough when it was rushing past us, now we’re –“

 “Flynn, look!” Rapunzel said, giving a tiny gasp. She pointed out the darkened window, and at first he was confused about what she was even seeing out there.

 But when he carefully leaned over to peer through it, and look up at the sky, his eyes widened, too.

 “Whoa…” He said, softly. Aurora Borealis lit up the night sky – he remembered that from when he’d tried a few university classes, too. The ribbons of green and blue and purple light danced across the atmosphere, and for a moment it was easy to feel like this was a private show, meant just for the two of them.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Rapunzel’s voice was filled to the brim with excitement, and despite the circumstances and not knowing what’d come after this, he couldn’t help smiling. Maybe it was okay not to think about names, or plans, and just live in this, brilliant moment for once. “The stars are coming out too, in the background –  I could probably point out some of the constellations, too –”

 “And I could tell you the stories about some of them.” He found himself responding. Maybe being stuck wouldn’t be the worst thing…

“I’d love that, Flynn.” Something about the way that she said it so earnestly twisted something in him, and he felt compelled to-

 “Eugene.”

 “What?” Rapunzel blinked at him.

 Eugene ran a hand over his hair, self-consciously. “It’s Eugene, actually. My real name.”

 He braced himself for accusations, questions about why he hadn’t told her the truth to begin with… but she just smiled at him, softly. “I like it.“

 “But-“ He said, baffled. “But that’s exactly what you said when I said my name was Flynn.”

 “It’s not about what your name is, Eugene,” she said, turning back to the window to begin sketching a rendition of the lights still visible through the window. “It’s about liking what I know about the person behind it.”

She said it so casually, as if it was a fact, and he wanted to protest. He wanted to insist that there were demons in his past she didn’t know the first thing about, wanted to tell her that she was better off attempting to befriend practically anyone else. Most of all, he wanted to tell her that he was decidedly not a good person.

 But maybe there was such a thing as magic, because something about the train car and leaning out the window to look up at the sky together, as she drew, with the prospect of sharing the stars and stories long after the northern lights died down stilled any words to that effect that he might utter.

Instead, he let himself accept what she said, for the time being. He let himself smile, a little, and relax. “You know,” He said, quietly. “I could get used to a view like this.”

[kanene-yaaay]

No Moving

Kanene’s note: One year ago I threw a surprise party (very small and cozy) in my house and, after some hours, one of mah friends suggested we played some old games from our childhood and I remember my first thought was “Hey, no. We’re not children anymore.” but I said nothing because that sounded a lot like what society would want me to say. We played. And that was one of the best days I’ve ever had. Good enough to give me inspiration for this fanfic. With a lot of chaos and dorky sides and chaos and tickles!!! So I'm giving this to myself as a gift, because, ya know... S e r o t o n i n! Soooo, the lesson? Idk. Be feral, do chaos, play and f**k the society, I guess. Happy day for us all!!! :DD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides!

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!!  ^w^)b

* This is Ler!Roman and Ler!Virgil with Lee!Logan and Lee!Patton. Around 3.700 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Eu vou traduzir ainda ;w;. Thank you so so so much for being with me through all this crazy and difficult year. It’s been a bless to have all of you in my notes, my askys, and my notifications! Take care of yourself, lollipop, you deserve. <33

[~*~]

It was a sunny day. The heat from the biggest star of our solar system being placated by a relaxing wind incessantly throwing the napkins from the so careful, yet messy – as if this wasn’t a tradition the quartet repeated affectionately every single year – decorated table. The friends positioned themselves around it. The surprise party’s rush being already over after all their screaming, singing, eating and bickering, leaving the four to lazily chat or stare the breeze carrying lonely flowers around Virgil’s – the one who offered his house as a sacrifice to the chaos - yard, making them float in the air for some seconds before forgetting them on the dirt again.

Virgil snored softly from the spot he conquered on the tabletop, taking a peaceful nap. Patton was saying, in the fastest pattern he could muster, all the dad jokes his brain managed to think only to see how much time Logan would continue to give him the silent treatment before finally – and figuratively, the owner of the only brain cell of their group would say if he heard this narrative, - exploded and Roman? 

Well, Roman was bored.

“I HAVE AN IDEA!!”

Then he slammed his hands on the top of the wooden object, successfully scaring Virgil out of it and of his sleeping – leading the poor adult to fall. Not before kicking a cup in Roman’s direction, his moves being weakened enough by his fogged brain so he missed it and hit Roman’s carefully manicured hands, instead, – at the same Patton, by reflex, slapped the two poor persons who had the bad luck of sitting next to him. He gathered the perfect timing to interrupt Logan’s scared jump by his confused ‘Why did- why- Why did you hit ME?’ sputtering.

“Ow.” The one in red shirt held protectively his arm and hand next to his chest, protesting with his usual offended noises as analyzed the light red spots on them and purposely ignored the ‘What the FUCK, Princey??’ shouted by the host. “Ow. O-w. Are you guys seriously going to hit me every time I try to make your poor lifes better, your barbarians? You know what? I am offended. Your peasants. I am going to get my dear Amanda the katana and then I am- I am out.” 

Logan deadpanned in his direction, lifting one of his eyebrows in his disbelief expression as the other didn’t give a single step to the exit. He did his best to maintain the façade as Patton fuzzed over him, hugging and apologizing and hugging and softly petting his head and offering cake before gasping and turning around to fuzz now over Roman. “… Okay. I am taking Patton with me.”

“Over my dead, haunted body.” Virgil quickly proclaimed before his tune got slurred, very much likely still sleepy. “I saw…” He balanced his hands in front of him, eyes wide and hair spiked, very much reminding of a scared cat. “I saw the angel of death, in all his tall dark, cold aura. In front of me. He was right before me, full of-” He moved his hands more, as if that compensated for his lack of words. “Emo.”

“…Thanatos?” Logan pointed.

“Yeah, yeah. That guy.” Virgil came back to his initial position laying down on the cold surface, yawing. “Totally emo.”

“Actually, when he was created-”

“Excuse me. Focus, focus!” The one who initiated the commotion snapped his fingers until all the eyes were fixated on him, glares traveling from interested to unimpressed. “My brilliant idea? That will light up this party and hearts? Drum the drums!” Silence. He turned to Patton, who was staring at a cute butterfly mindless flying around. “Patton! The drums!” The one wearing black rims seemed to come back to reality, drumming his fingers on the table. “Very well!” Roman spun, extending the suspense. Logan came back to scrolling on his phone, Virgil getting closer to take a look, both hiding a smirk when heard the pout in Roman’s tune. “You’re all jerks and boring. Let’s play S.T.O.P!”

That caught their attention.

“Roman, you are…” Logan talked slowly, as if trying to make his words as clear as possible, “aware that we’re adults now, right?”

“Aw, come on, guys!” Patton jolted upright. “Sounds fun! And I think Virgil’s yard is bigger enough to make it even better than when we played in middle school!”

“Exactly! And it was one of your favorites games when you were younger, remember, Specs? I think it’s a good way to celebrate that special date which is your birthday!” Logan scoffed at that, albeit his mind was somewhere else. 

Roman wasn’t wrong, he really used to love this game, especially because he was good at it. His love for sports was often ignored by most of his classmates because of his good grades – Logan never understood why one thing would exclude other – therefore he was constantly forgotten in the team or even underestimated. Two things extremely crucial in a game like this. Roman noticed his contemplating face. “I mean, except you are afraid of losing. Again.” 

“I did not lose! Kyle fell on me and he was the only one supposed to be out and not both of us and you. Know. It!”

“No, no, no! Claire said you were the one who tripped on your way and then YOU fell on Kyle-”

“That is nonsense! If Claire had stopped just one second her Dance of Victory, she would be able to see that, by the angle we both were on the ground there was no way I would be able to-”

“Oh, plu-e-ase. You are just a sore los-”

“What is this game?” Virgil questioned Patton, both letting the bickering fall on the background, who smiled widely, his gaze unfocusing a bit, probably watching some old memories of his childhood.

“It is a very simple but fun game!! One person stays next to a wall and, oh! We call him the Looker by the way! Or even some large thing and the others players stay the most away from him as possible. The person next to the wall has to count until a certain number of his choice and while he is counting everyone is free to wander around the place until he turns around, then every player has to freeze on the same spot and position they were. If you move and the Looker catches you, you’re out. You win if you touch the wall where he was. You can do everything you want as long the Looker is not staring at you.

“There was that one kid who managed to win the game by climbing a tree until he was close enough to jump from it and run to the wall before the Looker shouted he was out.” The one wearing two party hats as ‘cat hears’ stopped to breath. “Ah! Ah! Also! If you’re out you can choose to just watch the game or become the Looker’s partner and try to help him. Roman and Logan used to be the worst ever when together.” He giggled, sounding a bit hysteric.

“Hm. I think they used to call this ‘10 Seconds’ in my school, since you could count only further than 10 seconds.” Virgil then frowned. “Wait, why were they the worst?”

“Uhh, so, you see, the Lookers can use some… attics to try to make you move. Logan and Roman usually choose to-”

“I do NOT wish to participate.” Logan stated, crossing his arms stubbornly. Roman sighed. 

“Well, you do you.” Roman then traveled his glare to the others two. “Are you guys coming? I’m the Looker.”

“I’m in!!” Patton excitedly got up, joggling his way to the yard, casting a slightly worried look at Logan, who was adjusting his chair in order to have a better view of the game. Virgil shrugged, taking off his hoodie and following them, quickly throwing a ‘You ok?’ as he passed next to the most professional of the group.

“Yes.” He deeply breathed, sounding calmer. “Yes, I am.” And then give him a bite of a smile. 

Roman positioned himself before the colorful three foot tall concrete tunnel forgotten there by the last owner, barely catching with the corner of his field view his two friends whispering something to each other, the one wearing two party hats snickering behind his hand, bouncing as also choose a good position far away from him, who tried to not think much about what he just presented. A suspicious feeling crawled the back of his neck.

“Go.” Logan pronounced. 

“Oneeeee, twooo, three, fourfivesixseveneight,” Roman turned away from them, counting in a tune just above a whisper. Patton and Virgil exchanged glances.

When he got at twenty, he turned. 

Only to find Virgil laid on the grass, his arm extended to point something in the sky, Patton crouched by his side, his face firm in a puzzled expression staring in the same direction, hand above his eyes to block the Sun. Roman frowned in confusion, the curiosity tickling the back of his brain until he succumbed to it, also looking at the sky to - surprise, surprise! – find absolutely nothing!

By the time he stared at them again Patton now was in front of Virgil, both making what seemed like a very horrible parody of The Creation of Adam painting. Roman got closer, managing to clearly see the smug smile on Virgil’s face and Patton wobbly lips, very much likely holding laughter. He crossed his arms, staying stubbornly for some seconds before giving up, seeing that none of them moved a single millimeter. 

“You two are so funny.” Roman rolled his eyes, sarcasm dropping from each word. Logan snorted.

This time the Looker counted at only fifteen seconds.

This time Patton was in Virgil’s arms when he turned, one leg suspended dramatically in the air. The third time Roman growled loudly as Virgil was on one knee, pretending to propose to Patton who was frozen in the middle of his faint. In the fourth he didn’t even have the chance to turn before two hands tased his sides, making his knees buckle but being held in the same place when a pair of arms that hugged him from behind, capturing the poor adult in a flow of high-pitched squeaks and surprised laughter at each squeeze and spidering deposited just above his hips. 

Some minutes later soft snorts followed him to the ground when he was finally freed, flames running on his face and his arms firmly pressed at his sides, the ghost tickles leading to a sea of giggles dancing in the air.

“Enough.” Logan cut the moment, all the eyes on him when he got up, stretching and loosening his party tie. The Looker recomposed himself in order to sneak pokes and squeezes on the other two, who quickly dashed their way back to the yard. “You both clearly aren’t taking this seriously enough.” A dangerous gleam took over his eyes, staring intently to Roman, who instantly got the same kind of shine in his own glare, nodding in his direction. Both too much preoccupied to notice Virgil and Patton silently high fiving in the distance.

The game started again, now a very different electricity dancing in the air. Logan sensed an old feeling of nostalgia resting on his back as he analyzed the place and his opponents as things went by. Roman turned for at least three times – the perfect number for things to get really interesting, - before he decided to finally move from his place.

Silent steps, he went right to Patton. Logan breathed in relief, taking the opportunity to adjust his strategic position half behind the tree. Patton kept a pattern of switching from moving too fast in a round and then barely taking a step in the other, however, as Roman stopped before him, and for the way he soundless snickered as The Looker changed his target to Virgil, his weakness was still holding his laughter when stared for long periods of time.

Virgil was sitting on the grass. Again. A very good tactic when you tend to fidget or tremble a lot. He would stay in the same position for some rounds until in an explosion of energy dash forward when Roman wasn’t paying attention. The Looker crouched in front of him, his index finger pointing and almost touching his nose.

“You. I don’t trust you.”

And then there was Logan.

“You,” Roman stared in distance – not because of fear pffff of course not - Logan’s form half hidden by the foliage and trunk of the medium tree, his glass making his eyes gleam in a light even more enhanced due the shadow provided by the plant, the rest of his face being partially hidden because of his bangs falling on his features. “are fucking creepy. Stop.”

In the next round Patton gave everyone a heart attack when he screamed since he didn’t heard/saw Logan approaching his spot. Two more rounds. Virgil sneezed and lost his balance in a not very ideal mid-run position. Out.

“Oh, thank gracious, great goodness!! Come here, Knight Mare!! I have an idea!!” Virgil barely had time to stop swearing for losing before being recruited by Roman, who immediately began to whisper in his ear.

 “What do you think they’re talking about?” Patton asked, both being close enough for the question doesn’t need to be spoken above a murmur.

“Not a good thing for us both, I am sure.” In that moment The Lookers turned and a cold shiver ran Logan who, for the way Patton trembled, wasn’t the only one. Adrenaline started pulsing on his veins when they approached, although the birthday person had no idea of why. His old memories too much buried under newer ones for him to catch them.

“Nooohoho.” The cat lover whined and the fact Roman clearly saw that but did nothing to point it, his only reaction being to expand his grin, worsened Logan fears, a ray of recognition finally shining on his mind. That should be how karma feels.

“Look at you both, just standing right there, not being allowed to move an only single inch. What a sad fate, don’t you think, Princey?”

“Oh, absolutely, emo. A horrible, wondrous thing, indeed. But you know what that would be perfect for?” Roman now was just a few centimeters away, the infinitesimal distance being cut when he inclined forward, his breath tickling Patton’s – Poor Patton – ear. “Revenge. You know, Pattycake, Hot Topic here told me the previous attack on my amazing person was your idea. And now that I stop to think, what a wonderful idea, don’t you think, Pat-pat?”

Virgil pulled lightly Roman’s shoulder, sensing the other about to crack but yet having too much fun to end this all so early. “But not now. No touching, right?”

“Oh, right, right. Of course, no touching!” He wiggled his fingers, barely away from the poor target’s ribs, his cheeks already beginning to get pink from blush. “No touching, no touching, no touching, but, most important than anything else: no. moving.”

“Oh, yeah.” Virgil took the opportunity to walk around, stopping right behind Patton, who firmly closed his eyes, the smile he carried getting bigger. “Because the exact, very moment when you can’t take the teases anymore so you break and move?” He tsked. “Then all your protection will be over and you will be all helpless and vulnerable for us to tickle,” He almost purred the words, in the slowest way possible. “tickle, tickle, tickle for hours and hours. Can you imagine that, Popstar? Our fingers prodding and squeezing and tickling every single ticklish spot they find?”

“Ohoho.” Roman evil laughed. “Tickle spots? My Dear Imbalanced Romance, our pipsqueak here doesn’t have any tickle spots. He IS a tickle spot. Ah! I can almost hear his hysteric high-pitched squeaks and giggles! Such an adorable, beautiful, cute melody to my ears. Actually, I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop, Virgil. It’s just all too beautiful and intoxicating, you know?”

“Mm hm,” The other seemed to stop to think. Patton felt like he was going to melt at any moment. “Well, we could always just keep going forever.”

“Of course!” Roman again ignored the slight trembling of the cat lover’s chest, probably due all the giggles trapped there. “Don’t you think it will be wonderful and oh, so, so fun, cutiepants? Receiving all the tickles and nuzzles and raspberries and tickle hugs and tickly butterfly kisses forever and ever and ever? ~” He sing-song the last part.

“But,” Logan almost jumped in the same place, not even realizing how much keyed up he was before Virgil’s breath attacked the back of his defenseless neck. Suddenly all his nerves were hype-aware that he couldn’t turn around or run or even rub away the tingles. Goosebumps ran freely across his spine. “Let’s not forget about our so sensitive nerd here too, right?”

“Sure. Sensitive.” If he didn’t know Roman for all these years, Logan would almost swear he was the Cheshire cat, his smirk almost blocking Patton who hugged himself behind him, giggling quietly. “Because the serious, smart, professional Logan would never be ticklish, right? That is such a childish thing and he definitely, definitely outgrow it for now.”

“Yup. I am sure that, if we slowly and thoroughly spider our fingers all the way up from his sides to his armpits, being sure to give each and every rib a special attention since we don’t want to let anyone feeling left out, there will be no reaction.”

“Absolutely! No reaction at all! Not even if we squeeze the hollows of his hips, or scribble on his already quivering tummy, or massage his shoulder blades or lightly, almost not touching, scratch his armpits… It will be all in vain since our birthday boy is not ticklish.”

“Which means: No wheezy, frantic laughter.”

“Or sputtering among his squeals.” 

“Or cute snorts. Don’t forget the snorts.”

“And what about when the snorts get mixed with his belly laughter?”

“Ohh, that is some good shit you have there.”

Logan was dying. He was fucking dying and the only thin line keeping him alive was his stubborn nature. He could already feel his barrier cracking and crumbling right before him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, only to find both Lookers walking away back to the tunnels, not taking long before starting to count, this time out loud. The one with the, now freaking out, braincell began to snap his fingers non stop, trying to get away some of the built excited energy, some titters escaping from his lips during his happy stimming.

Roman and Virgil looked at each other and then the adorable scene right in front of them, deciding to have mercy and wait patiently for Logan and Patton – who yet didn’t stop giggling and hugging himself – to calm down.

(…)

One. Move.

And in the next second, they both were tackled on the ground.

“No, no, no!!! No!!” Patton was already giggling, trying to run from Roman’s firm hug, attacking with squeezes and scribbles in every spot he succeeded to research on the Looker as he also tried to escape from his friends’ hands attempting to hold him in the same place. “Wait, wait!” He cried, barely catching a glimpse of Logan’s trashing before an idea popped in his mind. “If we all gang up on Logan, I will tell about his secret tickle spot!!”

“Patton!!” Logan’s protest came out difficulty between his tight grin due his constant effort in trying to buckle Virgil from him, both struggling to immobilize the other and playfully rolling in the grass. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Pffft.” Roman said, a happy cry following his sentence when he finally managed to hold one of Patton’s hands, intertwining their fingers so the cat lover wouldn’t try to pry it away. “Nonsense, I know his tickle spots.”  

“Not all of them. ~”

“Patton, I am to going not figuratively end you. Get OFF, Virgil-”

“In your dreams.” He crackled. “Also, Patton, I’m listening.”

“Virgil! Don’t align with the enemy! And, of course I know all of them!”

“Even the one…”

“Patton, no! Stop!” Roman even if concentrated in tickling Patton’s knee so he could sit on his legs, got the slight tremble in Logan's voice, his curiosity one more time starting to take over his brain.

“Sorrey, sorrey, Lo! You know I love you but-”

“Patton, please.” Logan almost smiled as he fought his way to hug and trap Virgil from behind, but losing his balance as the other quickly turned and delivered a raspberry on his neck and quick squeezes on his left thigh. “dON’T!! I-I am going to bakeEEK - Fuck! - you a whole batch of cookies if you don’t tell them!”

Roman caught in the offer, his curiosity immediately perking up, answering in a bat:

“I’m going to tickle you both to pieces if you don’t tell us now.”

“Sorrey, Logan,” Patton tried to sound apologetic, but his excited smile made this task more difficult. “it’s you or me.”

“I’m going to tell them about your calves!” Logan threatened at the same time Patton said “It’s his lower back!”

“TRAITOR!” Both also shouted in synchrony. In a blink of eye Roman let Patton go and helped Virgil to make the most serious one of the group lay down on his stomach.

“I despise you all.” The aforementioned pronounced.

“Aww. Come on.” Virgil lowered, searching the other’s eyes, grinning. “Aren’t you enjoying the view?”

“400.000 years of evolution for humanity to become this. You all should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“You know, talking like this makes me think you don’t want us to give you your so dearly craved birthday tickles, Pocket Protector!”

The three of them stared at the other, looking carefully for any slight indication that Logan was truly uncomfortable with the situation, receiving as response only a scoff, the blush painting his face as a whispered mumble flew from his mouth.

“You’re so cute!” Patton squealed, giving a light tickly kiss on the back of his neck, leading the attacked to suppress a small giggle which progressively got louder as the cat lover tickled his armpits, Roman and Virgil seeing unfazed by Logan’s squirming. “Okay, okay. You have to tickle his lower back but starting with reeeeeally slow scratches at his sides before speeding it to the fastest scribbling you can muster as you move to his spine!”

Logan hid his hot face behind his hands, the yelps and snorts already escaping between his fingers. He was, objectively, going to love every single second of this.

[kaialone]

Spirit Tracks Translation Comparison: The Lokomo Sword

This will be a comparison of the original Japanese version and the US English localized version.

Specifically, this will cover the scenes of obtaining the Bow of Light, the Lokomo Sword, and the Compass of Light.

You can also watch the main cutscene for yourself in English and Japanese. If you want, you can check out the EU English version, too.

For the comparison, the usual points apply:

Bolded is the original Japanese text, for the reference.

Bolded and italicized is my translation.

Italicized is the official NOA translation.

A (number) indicates that I have a specific comment to make on that part in the translation notes.

As you read this, please keep in mind that with translations like these, it’s important not to focus on the exact literal wordings, since there is no single “correct answer” when it comes to translations.

Rather than that, consider the actual information that is being conveyed, in which way, and why.

--

Characters in this part who had their names changed between versions:

Mallador = Malladus, Kimaroki = Cole, Sharin = Anjean, Dego = Byrne

--

Getting the Bow of Light:

Text Box:

光の弓矢を手に入れた！ しばらくタッチし続けると 聖なる光をためて発射できるぞ！

You got the Bow of Light! If you touch and hold for a bit, you can charge with sacred light, and then fire!

You got the Bow of Light! Tap and hold to charge and fire bolts of divine light!

Zelda:

これが光の弓矢ですか… 何か聖なる力を感じますね…

So this is the Bow of Light...? I can feel some sort of sacred power from it...

So this is the famous Bow of Light... I sense a strange power coming from it...

Zelda:

マラドーたちの動きも 気になります

I also wonder what Mallador and Kimaroki are up to.  (1)

But I'm awfully worried about what Malladus and Cole are up to.

Zelda:

早く 戻って シャリン様に報告しましう！！

We should hurry back and report to Lady Sharin!!

Let's hurry back and tell Anjean what happened!

-

Reporting to Anjean:

Zelda:

シャリン様！ 光の弓矢を手に入れました！

Lady Sharin! We have the Bow of Light!

Anjean! Anjean! We got the Bow of Light!

Zelda:

もうマラドーなんて 余裕ですわ！！

Now Mallador will not stand a chance!!

We won't have any trouble defeating Malladus now!

Anjean:

うむ！ その弓矢で 奴を打ち倒すのじゃ！

Indeed! With that bow, you can take him down!

Good! An arrow from that bow is sure to fell him.

Zelda:

はい！

Right!

Right!

Zelda:

シャリン様！ マラドーの 居場所を教えて下さい！

Lady Sharin! Please, tell us where Mallador is!

Now all we need is to know where Malladus is.

Anjean:

分からん

I dunno.

I'm sorry, but I can't help you there.

Zelda:

…シャ シャリン様…

...L-Lady Sharin...

But, Anjean...

Anjean:

いや 何度も探ってみたが…

I really tried to find them, honestly...

While you two were busy obtaining the Bow of Light,

I have been searching for the Demon Train.

That's the train that Malladus used to escape.

Anjean:

奴ら 完全に気を 隠しておっての…

But they've completely hidden their presence...  (2)

But he and Cole have hidden it too well...

Byrne:

…捜し出す方法はある

...There is a way to find them.

There is a way to find it.

Anjean:

ディーゴ… おぬし まだ動いては…

Dego... You shouldn’t be moving just yet...  (3)

Byrne? I didn't realize you were awake...

Byrne:

マラドーが復活した場所を 覚えているな？

Do you remember the place where Mallador was resurrected?

The area where Malladus was resurrected...

Byrne:

あの祭壇の下には 通路が隠されている…

There is a hidden passage under that altar...

Below that altar is a hidden section of tracks.

Byrne:

そして その奥に奴らが乗る 魔列車の位置を示す道具…

光のラシンバンが あるはずだ

And further inside, there should be a device that can show the location of the Demon Train, the one those two are on...

The Compass of Light.

Somewhere down there is the Compass of Light.

Only it can lead you to the Demon Train.

Zelda:

…ディーゴさん…

...Mr. Dego...

Byrne...

Byrne:

魔列車は闇世界の存在だ キマロキも位置を知らなかった

The Demon Train is from a dark world. Even Kimaroki didn't know its location.  (4)

The Demon Train comes from the Dark Realm.

But even Cole didn't know its exact location at first.

Byrne:

そこで私が塔の力を利用して ラシンバンを作ったのだ

それを使い魔列車を見つけたが ラシンバンは聖なる力で作った物

魔族であるキマロキには 触れることすら出来なかった

So, I created a compass, using the tower’s power.

With it, we found the Demon Train, but that compass was created with sacred power.

Being a demon, Kimaroki could not even touch it.

He had me build a compass using the spirits’ power

to find the Demon Train in the Dark Realm.

Since the compass uses the power of the spirits,

Cole and Malladus can’t touch it.

Byrne:

ラシンバンは今もあの場に 置き捨ててある…

The compass is still at that spot where we discarded it...

That's why it should still be where we left it.

Zelda:

…ありがとう…

...Thank you...

...Thank you.

Zelda:

リンク 参りましょう

Link, let us depart.

Let's go, Link.

Zelda:

一刻も早く光のラシンバンを 手に入れなければ

We must get the Compass of Light as soon as we can.

We must get the compass as soon as we can.

Anjean:

��ンクよ おぬしに 渡したい物がある

Link, there is something I wish to give to you.

Before you go, please take this, Link.

Anjean:

今のおぬしなら扱えるはずじゃ

You should be able to handle it now.

I think you're the one who is meant to use it.

Anjean:

この剣の名は ロコモの剣…

天上のお方から授かった 魔を打ち倒せる伝説の刃じゃ

This sword is called the Lokomo Sword...

It's a legendary blade, bestowed by the Heavenly One, which can vanquish the demonic.

This Lokomo Sword was a gift from one of the spirits.

As such, it is filled with sacred energy.

It has felled many evil creatures in its lifetime.

Anjean:

この剣を意のままに出来るのは 天上のお方のみじゃったが…

Only the Heavenly One was ever able to properly wield this sword, but...

Until now, only the spirits have wielded this blade...

Anjean:

おぬしなら きっと大丈夫じゃ… 存分に使いこなしておくれ

I'm certain you can do it... Make sure to fully master it.

Use it wisely!

Anjean:

リンク ゼルダ… よろしくたのむ

Link, Zelda... I'm leaving it in your hands.

Link, Princess, it's in your hands now.

-

Getting the Compass of Light:

Text Box:

光のラシンバンを手に入れた！ 世界を光で照らし出し 邪悪な 闇の世界の場所を示してくれる

You got the Compass of Light! It illuminates the world with light, and reveals the location of the evil Dark World.

You got the Compass of Light!

It shines light upon the world, revealing places linked to the Dark Realm.

Zelda:

見て リンク！ 光のラシンバンが…

Look, Link! The Compass of Light is...

Look! It's the Compass of Light, Link...

Text Box:

森の大地の石版が あやしく輝き出す！

The lithograph of the Forest Land glows ominously!

The Forest rail map has started to glow ominously.

Text Box:

光のラシンバンの力により 闇へと続く線路が現れた！

By the power of the Compass of Light, tracks leading into the darkness appeared!

The Compass of Light has revealed a track leading into the darkness!

Zelda:

リンク！ 魔列車を追って 闇の世界へ向かいましょう！

Link! Let us follow the Demon Train, and head for the Dark World!

Follow those tracks to the Dark Realm! Let's find that Demon Train.

Zelda:

待ってなさい！ 私の身体！

Just wait for me, body of mine!

I want my body back, once and for all!

Translation Notes:

In Japanese, Zelda actually says マラドー達/Maradō-tachi here, with the suffix 達/-tachi essentially meaning “that person as well as one or more additional people”. Given the context, she would most likely just be referring to Malladus and Cole, which is why I adapted it the way I did.

What I translated as “hidden their presence” would more literally translate to “hidden their ki”. The idea of “hiding one’s ki” is a somewhat common Fantasy trope in Japanese media. It makes you undetectable by individuals who can track your “ki” in some form, or in other words, people who can track the energy inside living beings and the like.

Anjean’s line here is a bit difficult to translate, since she doesn’t finish it, but given the context, I am fairly confident in my adaptation.

The location called “the Dark Realm“ in English is called 闇の世界/Yami no Sekai in Japanese, which translates to “World of Darkness”, which is actually the same name as the “Dark World” from A Link to the Past. But note that in this one specific line, Byrne actually says 闇世界/Yami Sekai, literally “Darkness World”, instead, which is why I adapted it the way I did.

--

Comparisons & Thoughts:

The main cutscene here is the one with the Lokomo Sword, which has a few differences I want to point out, but they are mostly related to prior alterations.

The dialogue from when Link receives the Bow of Light and the Compass of Light doesn’t have any huge differences either, but I still included these scenes, since I felt they might still be interesting to see.

-

I can’t help but be slightly amused that when Link picks up the Bow of Light, the English version actually uses the phrasing “divine light”, rather than just “sacred light”, but then in the next line from Zelda, they change “sacred power” to “strange power”.

This could just be for the sake of text space, since “strange power” is shorter than “some sort of sacred power”, and it’s not really an issue, obviously.

-

A small detail, but slightly too long for the translation notes.

My adaptation of the Japanese text has Zelda “wonder” about what Malladus is up to, while the English version adapted it as her being “awfully worried“.

Both are actually possible translations of the original line, which makes use of the phrase 気になる/ki ni naru, which is used to refer to something being on one’s mind. Both in the sense of something concerning, or simply something one is curious about.

Considering the topic, it makes perfect sense to translate it as “worried“ here, though “awfully worried” is a bit strong.

I ended up going with “wonder” instead, but it’s not really more correct, just so you know.

-

When Zelda rushes towards Anjean, there is a difference between versions that becomes even more drastic when you watch how the moment actually plays out visually.

At the start of this scene, Zelda is full of energy, she’s excited, since they now have the bow, which should make Malladus quite a lot easier to defeat.

So Zelda, clearly ready to keep this streak of success going, and defeat Malladus once and for all, eagerly asks Anjean where they can find him.

To which Anjean replies with a flat “I dunno”, instantly killing Zelda’s momentum completely, in one swift motion.

This is, in my opinion, pretty funny, though of course it’s a bit less funny when I have to explain it like this.

But I’m sure you get what I mean. Zelda is being all heroic and confident, and then Anjean subverts the expectation that obviously she’d know the answer, being the wise sage person of this tale.

And she does it in such a blunt manner that it literally causes Zelda to fall down in utter disbelief.

In the English version, Zelda’s initial line is changed to her making the the statement that they need to know Malladus’ whereabouts, and Anjean’s response is changed to the much more elaborate “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you there.”

This is a very typical alteration for the English localization, making Anjean more serious and reliable-sounding in moments where she is being blunt and sort of informal in Japanese.

But in this moment it really clashes with the intended mood.

Watching this scene in English, something just feels off about the way Zelda just falls over the moment Anjean starts talking, since her line and her getting to the point just takes too long for it to warrant such an instantaneous reaction.

I’m guessing this is another result of the translators probably not getting to watch the footage as they were working on this game, but I can’t say for certain.

-

In the Japanese version, Anjean talks about having tried to find Malladus and Cole over and over, but being unable to, since they have “completely hidden their presence”, or rather, their “ki”.

In the translation notes, I explained the concept of “hiding one’s ki” like that, which is a common trope in Japanese fiction.

For example, “hiding one’s ki” is actually the concept that was infamously translated as “hiding one’s power level” in the English dub of Dragon Ball Z.

Because of how this concept works, we can safely assume that Anjean tried to find them by sensing their energy, rather than physically looking for them.

In the English version, this dialogue is altered in multiple ways.

Anjean instead says that she has been searching for the Demon Train, thus we get the mention of its name a bit earlier here. This also implies Anjean knows what the Demon Train is, which isn’t impossible, but not explicitly mentioned in the Japanese version.

Adding to that, Anjean now says that Malladus and Cole have hidden the Demon Train too well, rather than their presence or energy.

Because of that wording, one could assume that Anjean was physically looking for the Demon Train in the English version, but it could be interpreted either way.

My best guess is that these changes were made here to avoid mentioning the concept of “hiding one’s ki”. It’s a stock concept that pretty much everyone knows in Japan, but might require additional explanation in English.

And having Anjean look for the actual Demon Train, instead of Malladus and Cole specifically, was probably a means to make Anjean trying to track them down more plausible, if there wasn’t going to be a mention of sensing energy.

-

When Byrne speaks up, Anjean responds with a line I adapted as “Dego… You shouldn’t be moving just yet…“ in my version.

In the Japanese version, she doesn’t get to finish this line, so the “shouldn’t be” part isn’t actually included, but it seems clear from the context that this is what she was getting at.

If you watch the actual cutscene, you can also see Byrne shake his head in response to her, as if to say “it’s fine”, or something like that.

The English version adapted this as “Byrne? I didn’t realize you were awake…”, instead.

This could’ve been an intentional rewrite, but it could’ve also been a translation error.

-

In the Japanese version, Byrne mentions that there is a “hidden passage” under the altar.

In the English version, he instead says there is a ”hidden section of tracks“, which is incorrect.

I’m pretty sure that this one was a translation error. They likely confused 通路/tsūro, meaning ”passage”, with 線路/senro, meaning “tracks”.

-

Since the English version has already had Anjean explain the Demon Train at this point, the part where Byrne was originally the one to provide this information is removed.

This slightly works against this moment, since here we have the first instance of Byrne helping out our heroes, by revealing everything he can to them.

Him explaining the Demon Train, and how finding it will allow them to find Malladus and Cole, is part of that.

Of course, Byrne still has plenty of information to share in English, so it’s not a terrible difference.

But still, in the Japanese version, Byrne’s contribution feels huge, since Anjean and the children didn’t seem to have a single possible lead that could help them.

-

Like I mentioned in the translation notes above, in the Japanese version, Byrne calles the Dark World 闇世界/Yami Sekai rather than 闇の世界/Yami no Sekai in the main cutscene here.

I’m not sure if that was a typo, or a shortening for space, but I decided to adapt it as “a dark world”, to have a bit of both possibilities reflected.

But aside from this one instance, the place is called 闇の世界/Yami no Sekai every time it’s mentioned, so I adapted that as “Dark World”, since it’s the same name as the Dark World from A Link to the Past.

This location also breaks the naming theme of the others, as the four main areas in this game are called “Forest Land”, “Snow Land”, “Ocean Land” and “Fire Land” in Japanese, making “Dark World” the odd one out.

In the English version, they chose to adapt it as “Dark Realm”, which makes it follow the same naming scheme as the other “realms”, and also removes the connection to a past game.

The Dark World in Spirit Tracks is more than likely not supposed to be the very same one as in A Link to the Past, because that would make very little sense.

But giving it the same name could have been intentional, especially since, from what I recall, Malladus was the first character in the Zelda series to have the title “Demon King” who was not Ganon/Ganondorf.

In any case, I think the English version missed out by not adapting the name as “Dark World” here, too.

-

In the English version, Byrne says that it was Cole who had him create the Compass of Light.

This would also imply it was Cole’s idea to create it, and possibly even that Cole was the one who knew how such a device is made.

In the Japanese version, Byrne simply states that he created the compass to find the Demon Train.

This makes it seem more likely that Byrne came up with the idea on his own, and that he knew how to do it himself. Since he’s a Lokomo, this would make sense for him.

This change in the English version was of course another one of those that exist to make Cole appear like the one in charge between the two of them.

The Japanese version instead fits with its own portrayal that Byrne was likely the one in charge, even if Cole was just using him.

Aside from that though, the Japanese version more directly shows us that Byrne can be resourceful, and is possibly mechanically inclined.

An additional small detail here is that the Japanese version says the compass was built with "the tower’s power“, while the English version says it was created with “the spirits’ power“.

I get the feeling the English version actually just changed this to avoid a phrasing like “tower’s power” or “power of the tower”, since these can sound a bit awkward.

And in all fairness, the tower’s power is just the power of the god, or spirits in this case, anyway - so the English version is just being slightly less specific about it.

-

It’s another small detail but I want to compare this small section:

Being a demon, Kimaroki could not even touch it.

Cole and Malladus can’t touch it.

The English version again avoids mentioning “demon” or any equivalent, but that’s not what interests me here.

In the Japanese version, Byrne’s line is in past tense, and refers to just Cole.

Which could imply that Cole might have actually tried to touch the compass at some point. And failed.

And that’s kinda funny.

Adding to that, the different phrasings here lead to slightly different explanations for why Byrne is certain the compass is still at the tower:

The compass is still at that spot where we discarded it…

That’s why it should still be where we left it.

In Japanese, it comes across as Byrne just knowing that the compass is still there.

Since he did mention that Cole can’t touch it, there is the indirect implication that Cole couldn’t have taken it at any point, but it’s not really the focus of this sentence.

In English, the implication seems to be that Byrne is saying that Cole and Malladus couldn’t have gone back and taken the compass.

This is a bit strange, since Malladus and Cole deciding to go back to the tower after just getting away from it seems like an unlikely scenario, especially considering how long the way to the compass actually is.

Even if Byrne says that they can’t have done that, it just feels a bit off for him to even assume that Zelda and Link might think Malladus and Cole could have done that off-screen.

-

Lastly, we have the Lokomo Sword.

When Anjean is about to give the Lokomo Sword to Link, she says “You should be able to handle it now” in the Japanese version.

This merely suggests that Anjean believes Link is now ready to use it, considering how strong he has become.

In the English version, she says “I think you’re the one who is meant to use it.”

This phrasing implies that there might have been some sort of prophecy or the like that foretold of someone who should wield the sword, which is not mentioned in the Japanese version at all.

I believe the change in the English version was probably another translation error, since the original Japanese line ends with the suffix はず/-hazu, which is used in the sense of “should” or “must be”.

In the case of this sentence, this is meant in the sense of “You should be able to use it”, but in the English translation process this might have been misinterpreted as something along the lines of “You are the one who should use it” instead.

But as usual, that’s just speculation on my part. It just seems more likely than a deliberate change here.

Unintentional or not, as a result the English version does throw an implied prophecy at the audience here, which I have occasionally seen complaints about.

The Lokomo Sword’s appearance still comes out of nowhere in the Japanese version, so it’s not exactly free of criticism, but at least Anjean brings it up in a more natural manner.

Continuing from that point, in the Japanese version Anjean states that “Only the Heavenly One was ever able to properly wield this sword”, which explains why she didn’t hand it over to Link until she was certain of his skills.

In the English version, she instead says “Until now, only the spirits have wielded this blade", which would suggest her reason was more to uphold tradition, even though she already went against such rules with the train she gave Link.

A curious detail in Anjean’s English dialogue here is also that she says the Lokomo Sword was “a gift from one of the spirits.”

It’s interesting for the English version to imply the sword was specifically from a single individual among the enigmatic “spirits”.

I think this was actually their interpretation of “the Heavenly One“ in this instance, which in Japanese just seems to be a specific title that Anjean often uses to refer to the god of this land.

Looking at this sword segment as a whole, it can be summed up like this:

In the Japanese version, the Lokomo Sword is supposedly hard to master, and only the god of this land was ever able to really use it. That’s why Anjean only decided to give it to Link now, after he has gotten considerably stronger, making her confident that he can master it.

In the English version, the Lokomo Sword has only ever been wielded by the spirits, but Anjean decided to give it to Link now, since she believes he is the one who is meant to use it. We don’t get an elaboration of what this means, it could imply an unseen prophecy, or simply refer to Anjean’s confidence in Link. It’s just more vague than the Japanese version was.

-

Now, like I said earlier, the differences in the main cutscene here overall are mostly related to general changes we’ve seen already.

The changes to the Lokomo Sword’s background are among the new ones.

While I think the Japanese version makes a lot more sense here, the sword really does not affect the overall story a lot, outside of being a physical symbol of Link proving his worth.

The idea that the god once wielded it does open some room for imagining what they might have been like, but the English version retained that aspect surprisingly well, even if it’s now applied to only a single one among the multiple spirits from that version.

With that said, I actually would like to take the time to talk a bit more about my thoughts on Anjean in general here, since we have seen a lot of her dialogue at this point, as well as how it tends to differ between versions.

The humorous “I dunno” moment from this cutscene is just a small moment here, but it’s a good example of the kind of general changes made to Anjean in the English version, as we have been seeing.

Basically, in the Japanese version, Anjean feels like she is meant to be a bit of a subversion of the “wise sage” trope often used in fiction, including the Zelda series.

She really is a wise sage, and she can act like it when she needs to, but she also often does not. This leads to moments where she might be expected to offer sagely advice, but she ends up being blunt or casual about it instead.

I personally like the way this works out.

Since she is not a complete parody, like a completely useless character or something, the children and the audience keep wanting to rely on her, and she is reliable often enough that it feels reasonable to do so.

And because of that, her subversive moments don’t become too repetitive or annoying. Instead, they actually work to flesh out her character more, making her feel a bit more multi-layered.

I don’t know if it’s an intentional reference, but something about her attitude reminds me of those old ladies from the very first Legend of Zelda game, the ones who would say “Pay me and I’ll talk”, but just replied with “Boy, you’re rich” if you gave too much money, only giving actually useful information if you picked the medium amount.

This general idea of character’s still being earnest, but also not taking themselves completely seriously is very much in the spirit of the Zelda franchise, and it’s nicely done with Anjean, in my opinion.

In the English version, Anjean is not exactly a flat character either, and even if there’s less direct subversions, her more openly caring nature is still different from the average “wise sage” trope, too.

But it still makes for a characterization that ends up feeling quite different in the end. Particularly if you go by text alone, since some of her Japanese portrayal still shines through in her mannerisms and such.

As usual, I think people are going to have different opinions on what they prefer, but I think that the English version’s portrayal of Anjean is a bit too “reserved” or “proper”, if you will.

The Japanese version let’s her have tender and serious moments as well, in addition to her laid-back side, so to me it feels a bit like the English version took away a portion of who Anjean was as a whole. It’s like they tried to make her a bit softer, but there is also a bit less substance as a result.

And of course, this isn’t helped by the fact that the moments where her relationship with Tetra is brought up have been changed too, if not outright removed, unintentionally or not.

A huge part of Anjean’s character role is this indirect connection to Tetra which she provides for both the audience and Zelda, albeit in different ways, so that’s not insignificant. But a bit more on that in the future.

Well, these are just some of my own thoughts here.

I went on quite a bit, but this is the end of the part. Feel free to check out the next one!

--

< Previous Part | Start | Next Part >

--

[septembersung]

I said I wouldn’t do it, but here I am, posting another chapter of Generations!

Please understand that this draft is, while scanned for typos and basic coherency, a genuine “rough” draft - what a block sketch is to the final painting.

If you’re enjoying these and want more, please also know that I am putty in the hands of praise and feedback.

(Chapter One here.)

Chapter Two

Meadowlark Farm stretched across four sections in central Kansas, more than two thousand acres of plains, rolling hills, riverbanks, stubborn cottonwoods, irregular ponds, and the occasional dense stands of timber. The old family farmhouse stood close to the middle of the property, near what had once been a river but was now a seasonal creek, in a particularly fine grove of cottonwoods. In high summer, the waxy leaves shimmered wildly in the slightest breeze, like a flock of dragonflies or a shoal of fleeing fish.

The house itself rested against a little rise in the land, looking out sedately over the fields, with one basement corner, the original cellar, built into the hill. Two ancient limestone fenceposts still marked the end of the patchy gravel driveway, half taken over by dandelions. Huge clumps of pampas grass marked the rutted drive. The house rested easily in the shade of tall elms and cottonwoods. Part of the original limestone foundation remained, ringing three corners of the original square ground floor. Seen from the side, where the driveway ended in a field of stubby buffalo grass, it looked regular enough, a typical nineteenth and twentieth century farmhouse in peeling white paint. Walking around the curving front porch revealed an extra wing, built on at a diagonal angle, which stuck out like an injured bird testing the wind with its good wing. The attic, a huge airy room above the original second floor, winked back at the sun with many small square windows.

Back of the house, in the triangle between the west-facing end of the house the northward-thrusting angle of thew the new wing - over a hundred years old and still it remained, in family parlance, "the new wing" - a little kitchen garden grew half-wild. Wide, smooth stepping stones marked the short path from screen door to the little plot.

Beyond the new wing, in the true backyard, children's playground equipment dotted the slope. Mismatched swings hanging from chains and ropes attached to rusting A-frames and weathered wooden beams swung gently in the perpetual Kansas breezes. Slides and monkey bars glinted in the hot sun. Chickenwire separated the play area from an enormous rectangular garden, already overflowing with produce, heavily over-planted, and exuding fragrant herb smells with every gusty breeze. The land ran down a gentle hill towards a dense growth of timber and a long, enormous pond.

Not too near the pond, several mismatched outbuildings hunched in what could not quite be called a cluster. Like a crowd trying to pretend it is not a crowd, each person too embarrassed to stand too close to anyone else, they held a swath of ground to themselves. A huge, two story barn with its paint long gone, worn to a brownish grey. A nearly shiny Morton building, not quite new but startlingly contemporary. A hay shelter, with rusted slanted roof. A skeleton barn, with just a few peeling boards left here and there, it's empty roof frame stretching over antique machinery. And a solid, unremarkable little shed, red boards dulled to maroon, covered in a patched roof of mismatched shingles topped with an enormous handmade antenna. The double front doors stood ajar and a solid-looking padlock hung from the wide-open latch, hanging casually open.

Beyond the swings, the big garden, the outbuildings, and the pond, the land fell sharply away to a creek bed. It was low in this high, dry summer, and nearly still. The banks, crumbled where the grass gave way to clay, ran with little wavering along the crease where hill met plain, until they met the little woods to the east. Cropland stretched out beyond the creek to the north. Near the trees, but enough to be shaded by them except in earliest morning, just on the north side of the river, lay the old family burial ground.

It had not always been meticulously tended, but in Leah's lifetime the oldest headstones had been somewhat restored, the most egregious weeds removed, and this summer, even the grass had been recently mowed.

Anna-Lucia knelt at her mother's headstone. Martha Addison, beloved wife, mother, sister. May 8 2005 - August 15, 2070. RIP Et Lux perpetua luceat eia.

The thick granite headstone with its neatly cut, clear letters stood in line with several others, some so weathered and faded as to be hardly legible. After a moment, hand resting on the sun-hot granite, Anna-Lucia sat down and crossed her legs, shoulders slumped, hands folded in her lap. A few brown rosary beads hung between her fingers, but her mind had drifted into wind and dappled light and the hum of insects and the sound the tall grass made bowing again and again to itself in the gentle, incessant breeze. Time passed but she did not know it. Then -

"Here you are!"

Anna-Lucia started badly as a sun-blind silhouette loomed over and dropped down suddenly, throwing two strong arms around her shoulders.

Dazed from the bright light and her unintentional reverie, it took Anna-Lucia several stunned seconds to process the small hands with many rings, the flyaway, unevenly cut dark blonde curls, the lavender perfume.

"Liza!" she gasped out at last, returning the hug.

In the sixteen months since she had seen her sister, Liza's choppy curls had grown irregularly long. Her wiry arms were sun browned and stronger than ever.

"Oh, I have missed you, little sister," Liza sighed affectionately, giving her one last squeeze and sitting back, stretching out like a cat on the warm prickly grass. It was an old joke between them; Liza, the eldest, was as petite and youthful as their mother had been; Anna-Lucia had her father's bigger bones and had nearly always been mistaken as the oldest.

Trying to shake off the sun-daze and afternoon grogginess, Anna-Lucia found she had no words - just a huge, cheek-splitting grin, and a few irrepresible tears in the corner of her eyes. She gripped Liza's shoulder and squeezed. Liza smiled back, but her eyes were tired and new care lines were etched there.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Anna-Lucia said at last, when the silence had stretched so long it began almost to feel like another dream.

"No one knew. Not even me, until forty-eight hours ago. I fully expected to miss this year's reunion and be stuck on the beat 'til Christmas."

"Lots to report in Rome?"

"I've hardly been there - they send me all over the EU. That's the great thing about this job. Catholicity is a small operation with big dreams. I'm really the only full-time culture reporter they've got, so I have my pick of assignments. There's enough for three of me and three Giovannis besides."

"I still can't believe they get away that name."

Liza grinned wickedly. "Oh it's caused a few misunderstandings, but the reporter credentials, and the kinds of bylines I'm racking up, set them straight pretty fast."

"I hardly know anything about your job - you've sent three letters, Liza. Three, in a year and a half."

"Sixteen months, thank you very much." Liza hesitated. "It's - changing, over there. Letters aren't as... in vogue as they used to be."

Anna-Lucia looked at her sharply. "You're joking." She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, pushing away the lingering brain fog and reminding herself she was still not certain what privacy remained at home. Take nothing for granted. "I mean, nothing's more fashionable than retro, right? Where would the elite be if not at the height of fashion?"

Liza shrugged, an airy show of unconcern belied by the downturned corners of her mouth, as she reached into her bag, tossed carelessly on the ground next to her. "Whatever fires their rockets, I guess. It's pages, now. Personal pages to orally deliver messages."

Anna-Lucia felt inside, somewhere, that this was more important than she grasped, than her sister let on, but the sun had been slowly cooking her for more than an hour and Liza was pulling out of her carelessly dropped bag a thick wad of cream-colored envelopes addressed in a trailing scrawl she knew very well.

Her heart leapt. "You saw him!"

Liza shook her head, and she was pale under her tan. "These came through the postal service."

Not, Anna-Lucia registered distantly, the post office.

"That's how I found you out here, actually. I got in not twenty minutes ago and went in looking for Dad, and Grandma immediately sent me out here." Her eyes conveyed that Leah had warned her, too, they could not speak completely freely in the house. "These are all addressed to him."

Anna-Lucia stared at her. "Just to Dad? Not even one for me? Or you?"

"I tried to tell you." Liza held out the letters. "Check the dates."  Swiftly, Anna-Lucia tugged the rubber bands off the thick stack and they uncompressed in her hands, spilling over her lap. Each was labeled, F1sh, followed by a string of numbers she recognized as an encoding of month, year, and - something she couldn't decipher. Location, probably.

"A year ago? The most recent one is twelve months old?"

"One's only seven."

"You've read them?"

Liza frowned at her. "I take my job seriously, Anna-Lucia."

"I'm sorry. Stupid question." Mechanically, Anna-Lucia gathered the letters back up and rebound them. "So you've had no news."

Liza just looked at her.

Understanding began to dawn, and Anna-Lucia did not like it. "That's why you came home."

"We need Uncle Kevin's address book."

"No news at all? Seven months and nothing? Not a single person knows where he is or what happened to him?"

"Will you help me find Dad?" Liza pleaded, glancing down at her watch, a slim, chic, old fashioned ladies' analog. "He needed these... yesterday."

Anna-Lucia felt as unmovable as the headstones beside her.

"Please, Anna-Lucia. I don't... I can't tell him alone."

Liza stood and held out a hand. Anna-Lucia grasped it and was hauled to her feet, stiff, half-asleep limbs complaining and uncooperative. She heaved a deep breath, involuntarily, as if she'd been swimming underwater. Their little brother had been missing for at least seven months, and no one had heard a thing.

"Dad's in the new shed."

[gaiatheorist]

Dejected.

On Thursday night into Friday morning, my son going to bed woke me up from my half-sleep. I came downstairs so that the clatter-click of my keyboard didn’t disturb him, also so that I could watch the election results come in, and not worry about any out-loud swearing happening. As it turned out, I needn’t have bothered. A little before midnight, he came halfway down the stairs, then back upstairs, then all the way down.

We sat, staring at our screens, flicking between platforms, and repeatedly hitting ‘refresh’ on the news. I’d dug a little deeper into the exit polls than he had, and found that our constituency was predicted to show 99% Conservative. Now that’s A Very Big Thing, because since its actual inception in 1918, this area has been Labour-landslides. 101 years, staunch Labour, I’ve joked about “I vote Labour because my Dad voted Labour.”, and I’ve also mis-remembered about the racist shop-keeper, that was the town council election, not parliament. My son and I had been quite excited when our MP announced his retirement, and even more excited when a young woman was voted in to replace him. It’s not a male/female issue, it’s the fact that he was 73 years old, and fairly consistently either abstained from parliamentary votes, or voted against the Labour party. He was a dinosaur, we were excited about the young woman, my son had been sniffing around her social media, and she seemed to be the right kind of rabble rouser.

We watched the bars on the graph chase each other red-ahead, then blue, then red again. My son tried going back to bed at one point, but couldn’t sleep, so came back down, and faffed about making herb-infused milk, and asking me for natural sleep-aids. I’m not best placed to advise on that, my sleep issues are at the other end of the spectrum, I can fall asleep anywhere, but when I wake up, I can usually tell within a minute or so if I’m going to be able to get back to sleep, if I’m not, I just get up, ‘trying’ to go back to sleep frustrates me. Under normal circumstances, I can just potter around the house quietly until the boy gets up, generally around mid-day. Both of us being awake at daft o’clock in the morning is not a good thing, especially with the tension of the election as background-noise. 

I can’t quite remember what time the chanting started, but I imagine I must have given him ‘the look’. Only the two of us in the house, so every time he spoke, I looked up, in case he was saying something that needed a response, he wasn’t, he was muttering ‘Labour majority’, and ‘I refuse to acknowledge the Tory votes, they are not real.’ I had more of an idea of which geographical areas were historically held by Labour, and did occasionally mutter ‘Fuck!’ under my breath, all the boy saw was more of the map turning blue. There was a brief period of him shouting ‘No, NO, that is not what I voted for.’, predictably enough, his anger/denial lapsed into bargaining, twittering away like a Maths-budgie, doing complicated things with numbers. (He’d also tied a scarf around his head, when he’d tried to go back to sleep, and kept peeping one eye out when he was speaking, absolutely ridiculous.) There were lots of tears from him, I stayed calm and neutral, distanced and watchful, waiting for him to either stop chanting, or say something concerning. It turned out to be the latter, he’d been cycling up for quite a while when he shouted “I don’t want to live in a place like this, they’re voting to kill people-like-you!” That’s a trigger-phrase, and it needed some unpicking. You can live somewhere else/You’re young, you have a whole life ahead/You’ve just graduated with a hard-science degree from a Red Brick university/I’ve had three years of them trying to kill me, you know I’m resilient/This situation makes me even more determined to help other people.  I can’t remember how many times I have used the ASIST suicide-aversion strategy, I never thought I’d need to start it with my own son. He jumped up from his seat, and ran into the kitchen, I could hear his breathing between the sobbing and muttering, I knew he needed space, but also knew that he was now in the room where most of the knives are. No knife-noises, which is lucky, because he’s bigger and heavier than I am, I know I wouldn’t be able to overpower him if it came to that. He stomped back into this room, and, for a minute-or-so that seemed like hours, he punched the fuck out of the sofa. (I was trying not to let the “Please don’t break that, I can’t afford to replace it.” show on my face.)

He cried some more, and ranted some more, doing that weird thing he does when he’s highly emotional, of following me around the house like a lost lamb, he knows how much that annoys me, but at that point, it was down to me to convince him that there was a point to anything at all. A human the size of a whole man, following me around the house in jogging bottoms that had been part of his school PE kit, and a T-shirt that was too small for him, exposing a VERY hairy belly, that’s from my DNA, not his Dad’s. We were both back in the living room when the count from our constituency came in, we were obviously looking at different count-sites at the time, because I was the first to say “Oh, shit.” he looked up at me, and said “Has it gone?” It had. For the first time in 101 years. For the first time ever, because the ward/borough/whatever had only been in existence since 1918. Back to bargaining, he’s very good at Maths, and hope springs eternal. “We only need ‘x’ number of these votes to take the majority.” “If there’s a coalition of Labour and the SNP we can do it.”  When he started chanting ‘Labour majority’ again, I responded “Will you stop doing that, please?” Another melt-down, full on leg-swinging and snotty-snorting-sobs. “That’s all I’ve got, Mum, why are people doing this?” (People are idiots.) “Some of it is the EU, some of it is people with money knowing that the conservatives won’t increase taxation, some of it is fatigue/apathy, and some of it is people who dislike Jeremy Corbyn.” “It’s WRONG, though, it’s going to KILL people-like-you.” “It hasn’t killed me yet, and it won’t, as soon as I have more idea of the next medical intervention time-scales, I’ll volunteer with one of the local advocacy places, and help other people get through this.”

We crossed the point of no return on the graphs, and then the conservative party broke through the majority line. The boy and I chatted a little about how stoic Jeremy Corbyn has been in the face of unfounded allegations, and how insidious the conservatives have been in turning public opinion, with no fight-back mud-slinging from labour. “However this plays out, we’ll know we voted with our consciences, to give other people help, not harm.” “Is that enough, though, Mum?” “It will have to be for now.”

He went back to bed, I was so anxious about leaving him alone in that state that I was late to my gym appointment, which was a cancel/reschedule from earlier in the week when I’d blind-sided myself with a migraine from filling in the second of two 40 page forms, and cross-referencing 35 pages of additional evidence. This is conscious cruelty, there’s every chance that, buoyed by the confidence of a conservative majority, DWP might order me to another Work Capability Assessment for my UC, or a face-to-face for my PIP. I have permanent brain injuries, confirmed C-PTSD, and probable ASD, I’m not going to ‘get better’, and if DWP want to declare me fit-for-work based on my ability to pick things up from the floor, I’ll be taking names. 

This is horrible. I ‘lost’ most of yesterday flitting in and out of fretful sleep, the house is a tip, and, to make it even worse, I ordered in a take-away last night, and managed to eat a grand total of 4 chips before I felt nauseous. Saves cooking tomorrow, I suppose.   

[half1house]

Dear British friends,... (a rant from the continent)

This is an overly long opinion piece and a kinda vicious rant. But I have to get this off my chest because at this point in time I am lost for words to describe the incredible thing that is Brexit, therefore I'm interested in the opinion of British and other non-British people. For a couple of months now I've been watching in awe several times a month how the House of Commons, your parliament, the elected representatives of the British people, have taken up the shovel and started digging. It is a strange and surreal experience, like standing next to burning orphanage: It is horrible but I can't stop watching. Mere days ago HoC voted down every single proposal to at least mitigate some of the damage and there has not been any outburst of common sense, a thing the British always were famous for, since. To be blunt, for me it was the straw that broke the camels back.

I am a German and I don't know whether my views reflect a majority or minority. I'm an engineer in the chemical industry and I have travelled to Britain often during the last 15 years. I strolled trough the countryside, I visited the big cities, I have been surprised about the excellent restaurants even in places I'd never have expected (namely the "Old School Restaurant" on the Isle of Skye. If you are there, have yourself a treat and pay it a visit!). I have met a lot of wonderful people during my visits to Britain, both on holiday and on business travels. I like Britain. A lot.

And therefore it is hard to see her leave EU. To me Brexit came not so much as a shock but as a situation forcing a decision on my part too. It is sad to be left by and have to abandon you as an EU member, but it won't break my heart and in their current state neither the government nor parliament, nor the people of the UK look as if they could contribute to the EU in any meaningful way.

Every single person I know thinks and most newspapers state about the offical stance of your government that it relfects a situation in which both the people as a whole and the government of the UK either don't know what can realistically be achieved or don't know what they really want at all. All polls show significant support for either side with still only relatively narrow majorities. HoC sessions during the last weeks embody this problem. It is the most undesireable state of affairs in the current situation. Regardless of your future relationship with the EU, roughly half your population will be deeply unhappy. There is no unequivocal Will Of The People.

The blame game has already begun and since a huge part of your population has been swallowing untrue or at least grossly exaggerated anti-EU-crap for decades I have no hope that a significant portion of those will see through the lies. I fully expect roughly half the British to blame EU for the shitshow Brexit their government put together. If fully expect HoC to reflect that blame. And therefore in my opinion in the long run it is best for EU if UK is out as quickly as possible (but prefarble when EU is ready and europhile British have set their plans for movement to EU in motion).

After the first vote in the House of Commons I watched it became clear to me that the majority of MP's don't give two single fucks about a workable solution. I don't know whether it is mostly party politics, personal animosities, cognitive dissonance, sheer incompetence or a mélange of everything. At this point in time UK is not governed well and her people are not represented by men and women capable of managing a task like withdrawing from EU. I feel sad but finally a thought that has lurked around somewhere in the background all the time has now come to the forefront: I don't want a second referndum. I don't want UK revoking A50 at the eleventh hour.

I don't want UK inside EU. I want her out. I want her out for good.

This is neither funny nor amusing. It will affect me negatively personally because I like travelling to Britain and therefore I've given it a lot of thought. It's a hard decission. It comes with a lot of problems for everyone involved. It will make us all poorer, it will make UK prone to falling prey to American and Chinese interests. It will weaken EU politically. But still I want UK out of EU. This situation is forcing a decission as binary as the initial referendum was: In or Out. As we say in Germany: Halbschwanger gibt's nicht (you can't be half-pregnant).

Two years ago I would have been happy had HMG decided that it were in their best interest to abandon the exit and HoC had supported that decision. But two years ago the world was vastly different. Only few companies had set their plans for relocation out of UK in motion, the war rethoric wasn't as widespread and a working cross-party solution seemed at least not impossible.

In my view the most crucial mistake your government made was thinking of the negotiation as a game of poker or a haggle at the bazar. I would call that the layman's approach to negotiation because I often meet it. Laymen tend to think negatiation means being secretive, playing tough and who blinks first loses - but that is not how it's done in the real world. In the real world negotiators are well prepared with data and know the strengths and weaknesses of their counterparts and their own. They use their leverage to assert compromise, not dominance. Instead of consulting actual business negotiators or senior civil servants HMG and many influential people like the ERG thought playing tough and not blinking first were viable strategies. They never really tried to assess what possibillities were on the table and what could realistically be achieved. That's why to this day, not two weaks away from the cliff-edge, no open debate about what kind of Brexit HMG should persue was held in Britain. And that's why they so fundamentally misunderstood how the EU operates and do so to this very day.

They have failed to grasp that EU is first and formost an entity driven by procedure. This is a neccessity to ensure that two dozon chicks waddle at least roughly in the same direction. Therefore EUs insistance on a clear structuring of the leave process. Even in 2019 HMG have tried to negotiate with individual countries or shift the goal posts and even today they are still baffled that this approach didn't turn out well.

This goes much deeper than just the Brexit negotiatons: One of the frequent criticisms of EU is that the members could never agree on anything or constantly veto each other for parochial reasons. But in practice they do agree and don't veto each other most of the time and a lot of things get done. The stance of EU during the entire Brexit process has been consistent, clear and unanimous. EU won't blink. EU will do what her representatives say. EU has one of the most efficient bureaucracies in the world - 60.000 civil servants in Brussels and Strassbourg may be a lot of people in absolute terms but the city of München alone has roughly 40.000 civil servants and the city of Hamburg has 100.000 so in relative terms it is not even that large.

They have failed to realise that on a world scale the EU practically is Europe. Even without UK she contains about 60 % of the citizens, 80 % of GDP and practically all the political weight on the continent. Every single country not being a member is extremely closely aligned. Norway and Switzerland for that matter are all but members without voting rights. Even Belarus and Russia have lots of treaties and despite all the sabre rattling of the past two decades get along with each other pretty well in the long run. Unless Britain can be towed across the atlantic to the Americas there is no way in the world that the continent will not be her most important political and economic partner. Sheer geographic proximity is still and for the foreseable future will probably continue to be the most important factor when it comes to trade and alliences.

They have failed to realise that Devide And Conquer won't work. It should have been clear at the very beginning of negotiations when PM May travelled to half a dozen EU countries she hoped to negotiate with sperately only to be told that the negotiations had to be conducted with the EU, not Austria, France, Germany, etc. Many people say that this was going to show first and foremost, that the British government after 40 years of membership still have no clue about the meaning and the inner workings of the EU despite being a highly influential member. I have heard people opine that at some point in time HMG started to believe their own spin about EU being hopelessly devided all the time. Sadly I too think this assessment is acurate.

They have failed to realise that the four freedoms are the single market and for nearly all practical purposes the single market is the EU. They are are not negotiable because abandoning one of them would be the end of the single market and consequently the EU. And regardless to your opinion on whether the EU is overall positive or negative, no one in their right mind can realistically expect the EU to tear up herself.

They have grossly overestimated their importance for the continental industry. I'm an engineer in the chemical industry and our approach to brexit can be summed up like this: It's a shame but if you must, please leave in an orderly fashion. You will be missed but ultimately the EU is of more importance to us because it's the bigger market to sell to and buy from, the bigger economic area and the vastly more powerful political entity. If you leave in an orderly fashion there will be some disturbances but ultimately your industry will still be valuable. If you crash out there will be a period of trouble and disorder after which a lot of business will be gone. So please avoid that on all cost. Again keep in mind: Losing you will be expensive but losing the EU will be desastrous. So be in no doubt as to the seriousness of your position.

They have failed to understand continental and particularly French and German foreign policy after world war II. By far the most important topic for our foreign policy is keeping peace with our neighbours and deepen our economic and cultural interactions in order to cement this peace. This is in fact where the whole project of a united Europe started from in the early 1950's, when French foreign minister Schuman and German chancellor Adenauer signed a treaty about Franco-German coal and steel production that quickly morphed into the ECSC, than the EEC and ultimately the EU. With the very first paragraph of the Treaty of Rome stating exactly that. A lot of British people still think EU started as a pure trade community but that is wrong. As early as 1951 the ECSC contained the seeds of all the departments, bodies and organs of todays EU.

They have failed to grasp that while we don't want you to leave we won't fight to keep you in. We have no obligation to help you beyond what is in our best interest. We don't want to punish you but we won't let you keep your benefits when leaving. The responsibility of the EU is first and foremost to the members of the EU - which you aren't going to be anymore soon. We will do our best to make the EU a success - it is your own responsibility to make Britain a success. We will do everything we can to ensure that EU comes out of this mess in the best possible way. If along that way Uk also comes out in the best possible way, we will all be pleased. If UK sinks into chaos we won't be pleased at all but again: Being successful out of EU is UK's responsibility. Please keep that in mind: We are not against you. We are for us.

They don't understand why the members of the EU stand firm in the current situation. There's an expression so German there isn't a proper english idiom: "Pack schlägt sich, Pack verträgt sich" which means that, whereas members of a group are prone to fight with each other, they are equally prone to make peace again quickly, especially when confronted with a sitatuation concerning the group as a whole. A situation, for instance, like Brexit. Many people in Brtain grossly overestimate the problems of member states, particularly their problems with the EU.

They have overestimated the anti-EU sentiment on the continent. While it is true that a lot of people are openly critical or even against EU there is no mainstream party openly campaigning for their country to leave anymore. Even in France, Germany and Italy the tone of that parties has considerably mellowed. In Britain anti-EU fringe is mainstream politics and has been for as long as I can remember. Goverments of France, Germany, etc. are dealing with their political extremists but in blaming the EU for every decission of British politics (No ID cards, low taxes, low regulation, lack of industrial policy, privatising vital assets, crushing workers rights, etc.) successive British governments have actively persued anti-EU populsim and in effect executed anti-EU agendas by chosing to leave the EU. You don't have to be affraid of a rise of a new fringe party or a rebirth of UKIP, because you have the Conservative Party and the anti-EU wing of Labour. Even without UKIP and the like anit-EU sentiment is a strong force in your political environment.

Successive British governments have loudly blamed the EU for politics completely within their realm of responsibility. Even further: They have loudly embraced the anti-immigrant and anti-EU crowd while at the same time doing exactly the opposite: You are governed by the same PM who sent Vans saying "Go Home!" through high-immigration boroughs and oversaw the windrush scandal while doing bugger all to excersise any meaningful form of control over immigration (COMPLETE for non-EU- and VAST for EU-immigration). You are governed by the very party that kept blaming the EU for any interior British problems despite the fact that they were home grown. Examples: EU regulation on immigration has been written largly by British lawmakers in the 1990. Immigration doesn't need to be unrestricted under EU regulation. It is your government that chose for 25 years not to excersise their options. The large disparity in income has nothing to do with EU regulation - in fact Britain always has been a pain in the ass when it comes to further regulation and strengthening workers rights (Remember how Thatcher crushed the Unions?).

Going full turbo-capitalism and trying to pull off a Singapore most likely is also no realistic option because an area state like UK is significantly different to a city state. Dropping all tariffs would probably either destroy the remaining manufacturing or forcing much harsher conditions on British workers. In addition the national distribution of wealth would be even more shifted towards the large cities, because the one top-tier world class industry UK has is financial services which are overwhelmingly provided by firms in those large cities.

Your government tried to negotiate with individual EU countries dozens of times during the last 2,5 years and was denied every single time. Of course politicians clad the message in fine talking along the lines of "Of course we are looking forward to mutally attractive trade aggreements after Britain leaves the EU" or "We are prepared to basically copy the agreements that be" but I am quite certain that the very moment after Britains departure has been in force, she will be swarmed by cohorts of negotiators from basically every conutry in the world saying things along the lines of "Of course we would like to have the basically same deal. Juuuuuust some minor adjustments here and there and here too and, oh, also over there. And that point we surely can drop at all but this one we'd like to discuss a little further...".

Please keep in mind that for close to three years now UK has been loudly announcing to the world that after four decades of discussion she was unable to agree on a clear idea of what her position in the world should look like after Brexit. The referendum was almost three years ago. And still the question has not been answered by UK. Surely many individual opinions float around but HMG haven't managed to form a coherent strategy by taking them into due account. Instead you got soundbites like "Brexit Means Brexit" and "Will Of The People" and "We voted to leave" without defining what options to persue. The rest of the world know this. They can see it with their very eyes and hear it with their very ears. They've been watching! They've been taking notes! I am absolutely certain that whole branches of the civil services of all the major and emerging nations are working overtime to review all the treaties they now have with EU in order to find items they could renegotiate to their advantage with UK. For the last three years private and public executives have taken notice of the negotiation process and how UK conducted herself in contrast to EU. Be in no doubt which entity is regarded as the more professional, better prepared, reasonable, stable and united one. Especially after the latest parliamentary sessions.

In my opinion Britain at this point in time has a MASSIVE problem with herself, exemplified through the division amongst MP of either party, parliament as a whole, subgroups in HMG and a public that is roughly split in half over the question of Brexit. In my humble opinion the damage UK in her current state could inflict on EU as a whole in the immediate future is far greater than she could as a third country, even after a hard Brexit. Surely, A50 could be revoked tomorrow but there is no way in the world to undo the effects of Brexit. In her current state Britain as an EU member would likely sent outright EU enemies to the European Parliament. She would be a pain int the ass in any future decission and discussion - even if HMG would want to stay in EU in the goodest of faiths the rift running through the public and the HoC would still be there and continue to be a ball and chain to anything the EU27 would want to get done. Im totally absolutely positively certain that not five years after a possible revokation of A50 the PM would arrive in Brussels for renegotiation of UKs terms of membership. I am equally certain British politicians of either party would continue to shift the blame for their unpopular decissions on EU (that British press will do so is a given regardless of the outcome of Brexit). There is deep disparity between the city and the countryside, the poor people and the rich, the well educated and the not well educated. As far as I can see far deeper than for instance in France, Germany or Italy. If UK government won't be able to fix this they (I'm pretty sure they won't) will look for a scapegoat and this will most likely be EU. Therefore I don't want British MEP. I don't want people of a country leaving EU in the near future to have seats and influence or even sabotage decisions in the European Parliament. I particularly don't want the likes of Farage there. I don't want EU hampared by pointless obstruction of MEP who won't have to live with the consequences.

It is, in my humble opinion, positively bat-shit crazy to consider the party that is now in government, the party that went full steam austerity, the party that is home to the most vicious desaster capitalists currently influencing British politics, the party that it is even deeper rooted by private networks than my garden is by the blackberry on the adjacent meadow, the very party that has achieved next to nothing in almost three years time will champion a new soically sound domestic policy improving the lives of the poor and precarious after having left EU.

It is, again in my humble opinion, at least very naive to assume that the current opposition, lead by a life-long anti-EU campaigner and with a strong anti-EU wing of her own, having not taken a clear stance on whether to be in favour or against Brexit, under the constraints the loss of all those international treaties will pose, can implement even a small portion of their proposed legislation with success.

And thusly, as a German and EU citizen who wants as little fallout from your internal problems as possible to go down over the rest of Europe, I want you out of EU. Obviously neither HMG nor HoC nor a sizable part of the public can be trusted to rely on EU for anything but her being a whipping girl for her internal struggles and unpopular decissions. I don't suspect this to stop, change or even gain significant backlash in the next years.

This is not only recognized by little old me, but certainly by decission makers all around the globe. UK, once upon a time the mightiest and most adored nation in the world, home to the finest scientists, industries and ruler over a quarter of the earths surface not hundred years ago, will soon have cut herself off one of the biggest, richest and most powerful blocs in the world. UK will than govern roughly 1/100 of world population, less than 1/100 of military personnel, 2 % of wealth without any meaningful treaty, besides her NATO membership, to anyone anymore. She will be on her own. A ship on the high seas with a crew that can't even set a course after years of discussion. Please keep in mind that on the world scale UK, when anything besides financial services is considered, is a high-wage-low-productivity country. Practically all your industries are heavily dependend on, and heavily aligned to frictionless trade. Domestic farming for instance provides UK people with locally produced food (People everywhere love to eat "homegrown"), manufacturing often provides well paid work outside the big cities and in rural areas. Without the political power of EU and the hundreds of treaties with other countries she provides, UK is sigificantly weakening the prospects of her remaining industries.

This is not news. A lot of people in UK know this. A lot of people all around the globe know this. I still hope that there can be an agreement found in the next week, but with each day going by it looks less likely to me. Still a lot of people can't imagine what sort fo havoc a No-Deal Brexit is bound to wreak but I fear they are going to be in for a serious reality check very soon. It is a cold world after all.

Take care.

from

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

I accidentally joined one cult after leaving the Unification Church cult

I decided I needed to get out of this church immediately, before I became some stranger’s child bride.

by HANNAH               November 21, 2014

When we opened our eyes, I could still feel the fleeting warmth from his hands placed on my head. We sat in a circle as he led us into a quiet chant known as the “moola mantra.”

“Moola? Like money?” I wondered. The incense smoke snaked throughout the room. I noticed a donation bowl being passed around. Yes. Like money.

“Sat chi ananda. Parabrahma. Purushathama. Paramatma. Sri Bhaghavathi Sametha. Sri Bhagavathe Namaha.”

I readily joined the others in chanting, not really knowing what they were saying. When I couldn’t remember the next phrase, I just Milli-Vanilli’d my way through it, letting the other voices fill in the gaps for me. I’ve had a lifetime of chanting in a language I didn’t understand to prepare myself for this.

In 1982, my parents, among many others, had an arranged mass marriage at Madison Square Garden (photo above), performed by the infamous Sun Myung Moon. With a simple hand gesture, Sun Myung Moon matched my parents together among a sea of brides and grooms, and five years later, I was born, the second of four children. It’s always troubling to think about how my very existence was decided by some Washington-Times-owning, money-laundering, homophobic, sushi tycoon/sexist cult leader, but I guess it makes things interesting.

Our childhood was…weird, in a word. Even as a kid I found myself thinking, “Why are we selling flowers at the side of highways?” “Why are we going door-to-door making strangers drink juice?” “Why are we sprinkling salt over our groceries?” “Why are we waking up at 5 a.m. to bow to a picture of a Korean man and a bowl of fruit?” “Why are we chanting right now, I mean, really? What language is this? I’m tired.”

Friends would come over and ask who the Korean people were in the photos around our house, referring to the Mr. and Mrs. Sun Myung Moon.

“I…uh…they’re my grandparents.” I often found myself saying.

“But…you’re…not Asian,” they’d reply, stating the obvious.

I’ll never forget my birthday during the blizzard of ’96. My parents took us to one of Moon’s mansions in D.C. to meet some witch doctor of a woman. She claimed to embody the spirit of Sun Myung Moon’s dead mother. We stood in line behind a closed door in the foyer.

Before the door slammed shut, I caught a glimpse of a large group of people gathered around a woman and a boy. The woman had her eyes closed with the boy sprawled over her lap. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and seemed to be crying. Red marks were all over him. He tried to escape her grip, arms extended to what I assumed to be his mother, who sat silently in the circle. Then, the door shut. I’m haunted.

Finally, my turn came. I nervously sat myself next to the woman. She lifted my shirt, prepubescent chest exposed, as the captive audience watched as I was hit several times on my back. She prayed in Korean over me. And then, applause. It was over. Somewhere, there is a photo of my brother and I standing in front of the mansion after the woman hit us that day. We were smiling.

Beyond the ritual abuse, there was a certain strain of poverty that only a child of a cult could understand. You get used to communal living and sleeping on floors very quickly.

Before we eventually settled in the D.C. metropolitan area, we had traveled around the country, staying in attics, basements, and church-owned hotels and mansions. There’s a very real cognitive dissonance that occurs when you’re living in a mansion, sleeping in a tiny bedroom with all six members of your family. In that mansion, I befriended a young, Japanese opera singer who lived on the top floor. She’d French braid my hair and show me pictures of her fiancé, a man she had yet to meet.

I thought this was so strange, but I would later learn that being “matched,” or engaged to a stranger in another country was common. At 17, it happened to one of my best friends. I’ll never forget the look of misery on her face as she stood in her wedding dress, among the sea of brides and grooms, holding the picture of her future husband.

It was then that I decided I needed to get out of this church, immediately, before I became some stranger’s child bride.

Within days of that decision, I got a phone call from an old friend.

“Do you want to get your third-eye opened?” She asked.

“Do I…what?”

“You heard me. Get your third-eye…opened.”

When we arrived at the house, a blue-eyed man answered the door.

“David!” Joanna squealed. “It’s so good to see you!” He wrapped his arms around her, practically swallowing her tiny frame. “Hannah, this is David. We met at a commune conference. We couldn’t stop staring at each other from across the room. It was kismet.”

David laughed and put out his hand to shake mine. “Nice to meet you, Hannah.” He led us inside, where a bald-headed man was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed deep in meditation.

He opened his eyes and spoke with a soft cadence. He introduced himself as Daniel. He told us that he had recently returned from a trip to India, where he received a special blessing known as “deeksha,” from a group called “The Oneness Movement.” By taking part in this expensive ceremony in India, he became empowered to pass this gift of enlightenment to us.

He instructed us to close our eyes as he guided us into meditation. He came around the room and gently placed his hands on our heads. I was struck by the similarities of this ritual with another my parents performed for my birthday. There is something spiritual about having someone caress the crown of your head while they speak in soft tones over you. I felt enlightened, or at least relaxed. Like Fox Mulder [The X-Files], I wanted to believe. But there was a Dana Scully in the back of my head that wouldn’t completely let me.

I began attending meetings regularly. Daniel and I developed a close friendship where we spoke on the phone daily. At one point, I was $300 short for my rent, and without blinking, he loaned me the money. Three months later, I found myself riding in a car with him to attend a Oneness Movement get-together in Pittsburg.

We pulled up to a row house in Pittsburg, where we were greeted warmly by a jolly man. He placed prayer beads over our heads, luau-style. “Namaste,” he bowed, and we did the same. He led us upstairs to his railroad apartment and gave us a tour.

“And this…is my Christmas room.” It was August.

There were two entirely decorated trees with trains circling around them. Presents galore. Reindeer, flashing lights, snowmen. It was Christmas hell. I took a seat, completely entranced and horrified by the mechanical Santa’s never-ending “ho-ho-ho” mantra. I kept thinking, “Where am I?”

Daniel called me into the next room where others had already gathered and were chanting in harmony.

“Sat chi ananda. Parabrahma. Purushathama. Paramatma. Sri Bhaghavathi Sametha. Sri Bhagavathe Namaha.”

I sat on my knees, and just as I was about to lower my head in a child’s pose bow, I noticed a familiar face from across the room. She looked a lot like Diane, a Moonie truck driver who would stop and make us oxtail soup when she passed through town. She loved talking about God with my parents. No. It couldn’t be. It was. Our eyes met. In a panic, I lowered my forehead to the ground to hide my face.

Finally, the chants subsided, and a faint voice spoke up. “Hi, I’m Anthony and I prepared a song for you all.” I slowly raised my body, trying to hide my face behind my hair. A mousy-looking teenager stood before us, boom box ready. The familiar sound of chimes and wind instruments filled the room. I knew this song.

“Olha eu vii lue mostar…” He sang. “Como é belo este mundo…”

He was singing “A Whole New World,” the Disney classic, in Portuguese. I noticed Diane was full-on staring at me. I panicked just as Anthony’s falsetto kicked in for Princess Jasmine’s part of the duet.

“Um mundo ideal…Um mundo que eu nunca vi…”

I looked around the room, scanning for any sign of acknowledgement from another human. Nothing. I noticed everyone in the room was in fact, crying. Was I that cynical? Should I feel something right now? Watching Anthony shimmy his way through the intense key change was definitely a spiritual experience, but I still didn’t want to give these people my money. I felt duped. This “whole new world” suddenly felt a lot like the old one.

I retreated to the Christmas room in an attempt to hide from Diane. On a table, I noticed a photograph of Sri Bhaghavan and his wife, the founders of the Oneness movement. They were sitting in chairs, like royalty. The photograph was nearly identical to ones my parents kept of my pseudo Korean “grandparents.” Horrified by the parallels, my inner Dana Scully finally broke through.

I spent the rest of my time at the retreat doing just that — retreating. I slithered along the walls, and managed to avoid a conversation with Diane other than, “funny meeting you here” and “please don’t tell my parents.”

When I left my respective cults, I was excited to be integrated into the real world, a place without cults, or so I thought. Not so. These days, I see cults everywhere: cults of influence, cults of institutions, cults of politics. You learn a lingo, you follow a set of rules, a code of ethics. Sometimes you wear a uniform and a name tag. Sometimes you are sleep-deprived and haven’t seen your family in weeks. In a world where CEO’s are more likely be to sociopaths, it’s harder to define what is a cult and what isn’t.

What’s important is listening to your inner Dana Scully, no matter how badly you want to believe. The truth is out there, sure, but it’s also inside you.

_______________________________________

Hannah

After selling flowers as a child with the Moonies, Hannah is now a part-time florist. Her life has hilariously come full circle. She is also a songwriter and musician. She is a student majoring in human services and hopes for a career in social justice advocacy.

_______________________________________

A few of the comments on Hannah’s story:

mrsdanger So interesting, would love to hear about your life now and your parents’ reaction to leaving.

Keith All religions are cults, some are more destructive than others. Thank you for sharing your story. Write another story for us later to let everyone know how you are doing on your new journey.

sara_ahoy I understood what she was trying to say here. A lot of successful people become that way because they refuse to follow the rules of society, some are more aggressive, and willing to throw other people under the bus in their bid for a promotion. Cult leaders tend to act similarly, acting charming but ultimately bullying their way into leadership positions and ruling through fear and ignorance.

We like to think that the societal rules that we all follow are there to benefit us, but I’ve found time and time again that I’m paying arbitrary fees of all kinds that go straight to a rich businessperson somewhere…

Lalaloki … they sure discourage people from ever taking a day off, even when sick. And then, when people do call out sick, there’s a sort of underlying guilt involved. People are being paid to be there, sure, but in a cult, people are being “paid” salvation.

tracy This is perfect! “What’s important is listening to your inner Dana Scully, no matter how badly you want to believe. The truth is out there, sure, but it’s also inside you.”

Huh Wow, you should write a memoir! I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian church that was very cultish. We left in middle school and it was hard adjusting to the real world but my “inner Dana Scully” has been strong and made me skeptical of all things spiritual ever since. My advice: If a group (religious or otherwise) makes you isolated or relies heavily on secrets get the hell out!

FoxMulder She needs to know the truth is out there

breebree Moonies aren’t rich at all! The majority (my parents included) dropped out of school and donated ALL of their money to the church. And keep doing it. Ugh, so stupid.

berly I want to know why the cult did a ritual of hitting children? [ansu, a Korean shaman ritual to get rid of evil spirits]

_______________________________________

The FFWPU / Unification Church and Shamanism

Soon-ae Hong (the mother of Hak Ja Han) spent two years in Chuncheon Prison after Ansu beating an 18-year old boy to death.

Fear and Loathing at Cheongpyeong Lake

[schroedingersk8]

8.What dating me is like when you THINK you are a DOM.

Posting as Mistress K8 Morgan, k8morgan.com

It is a beautiful Sunday afternoon. You have just woken up, having spent the night on your sofa. You have fallen asleep while watching Bake Off re-runs and eating take-away, but it is a comfy sofa and you do have a cosy throw, so you didn’t actually bother with going to the bedroom when you woke up for the first time early this morning. You sit up, and a copy of 50 Shades of Grey falls off your pillow. Oh yes!!! You forgot! You have finished THE BOOK! Your girlfriend must have forgotten it when she moved out, having dumped your sorry ass for being too much of a lazy house slob and never wanting to do anything beside telly on the weekends.  Did I say girlfriend? EX girlfriend.

You look back at the book, on the floor, and smile! But yes, of course! It makes perfect sense now! The reason your relationship failed, the reason all of them fail, the reason even Tinder dates don’t call you back is because you are, and having read THE BOOK you are now 100% sure -- you are a Dominant man, and they were not submissive enough for you. Yes, yes, that’s it! You, a surprisingly overweight guy in your late 20es who hasn’t left the house since he got back from work on Friday, in a very junior role and currently on probation for accidentally sending a dick pic to your male boss, right now struggling to find your second slipper somewhere under the sofa, amidst a pile of car magazines, some dirty clothes, and an old greasy pizza box, wearing a stretched out formerly white, now itself some 50 shades of grey T-shirt, adorned with both ketchup and mustard stains, and in underpants that look like they are a heirloom from a family with a history of digestive issues -- yes, YOU are the living embodiment of an elusive and mysterious kinky billionaire Christian Grey! And now all the women will fall to your feet! You decide to give up your search for the 2nd slipper, and stand up. A few crisps come tumbling onto the floor. “Strange, I do not even remember eating these last night.” -- you think to yourself. -- You pick up the biggest one and eat it.

You go to your dining table, and make room for your iPad, by pushing everything aside. You open browser, and type in D O M I N A N T, thinking to look at what dominant men are like, at least in the eyes of the society, but the first search suggestion is for dominant women. “Oh yeah!” -- you say out loud, and click “images”. After a few glances, on this ill-fated Sunday afternoon, you come across my picture, and after an even shorter research, you find me on Instagram.

The rest is as follows:

Instagram DM, to my account that asks for NO DMs, please:

-- HI

Pleased with yourself, and with a feeling of an accomplished mission, you go to the loo. You come back, good half an hour later, having jerked off in the shower because the idea of meeting me has gotten you all hot and bothered. You are now wearing an old dusty pink bathrobe -- yet another remnant of your ex -- to find that your message has neither been read, nor replied to. You think a little, and your brilliant mind produces another pearl:

-- HOT! [aubergine emoji] [water drops emoji] 

ALL from the mind that brought us the “HI”...

In about an hour, you realise that I probably won’t read your messages on there, nor respond to them. You actually bother to click onto my profile, and find the email in my contact details. Score 1 for thorough investigation and due diligence.

You write:

Subject: Your Christian Grey.

Hi, I have come across your insta and you look hot, it says you are a domme but I think all this is only to show, and that what you really need is this hot young buck to bend you over the table and fuck you. Agreed?

C G

And you attach a dick pic. Yup, same one you’ve sent to your boss. It actually isn’t even your own dick pic, your dick is shorter than that and has too much foreskin, so you use the one you once got sent by some drunk guy on Snapchat, who thought you were a girl. Clever!

A day passes without any response from me. On Monday you go to work, you expect to come back to an email from me. It does not happen. Nor does it happen on Tuesday. Nor on Wednesday. On Thursday night you go out for a few pints with the mates, and come back home tipsy. You go back on Instagram, to look me up again. I still haven’t followed you, replied or even read your messages.

-- BITCH

-- WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT ID EVER EVEN FUCH YOU

-- HAHAHA I HAVE A MUCH HOTTER GF THAN YOU

-- SUCK THIS -- say you, yet again sending me a picture of another man’s penis.

In about two weeks from the described event I check my Instagram DMs from people I do not follow, and come across your messages. I recognise you, from the dick pic. Which wasn’t even yours! 

How can I possibly know that? Well, I have seen a few nice black dicks before, but never in my life have they been attached to a pasty white dude. And yes, I learn all that from glancing over your own Instagram profile and pictures, before I press “delete” and “block”.

And this is how our love affair ends, with me, laughing to myself, and wondering whether it would be ethical, in this day and age of mermaids and unicorns, to use my superpowers to make someone self-identify as a Cockwomble, instead of a Dom.

P.S. And if you managed to crack one off to any part of this post, then there is really nothing on the internet that you wouldn’t masturbate to, is there?!

No one, under the penalty of the EU copyright laws, is allowed to use or reproduce my blog or individual posts, or even passages, in any way, shape or form, be it for Netflix series, Amazon books, or anything of the kind, regardless of the credit given. K8Morgan.com.

[eachainn]

Pretense

Julius paced up and down the room, glancing back at his desk every time he passed. He never expected the treaty on it to change, but somehow he was always surprised by it. And it infuriated him.

Julius reached out to snap up the treaty on the next pass, staring at the note attached to it as he started his pacing again.

These are the terms as determined at the meeting of allied and enemy forces at Wiesswolfe Castle. The treaty signing will take place there within two weeks. As a favor to Lady Marianne, you will not be present as I cannot guarantee the same safety standards that allowed you to come to the EU a second time.

Schneizel

Julius hissed out a breath between his teeth, crumpling the note and throwing it to the side. Damn Schneizel for his softness and damn his mother for interfering. This was supposed to be his moment to shine, his moment to present the terms of surrender, not a treaty.

Britannia had the advantage. In a few months they could have the forces of the EU cowed and ready to accept any terms they were given. It could have been sooner if Schneizel had let him execute the Euro-Britannian nobles who had been dragging their feet about the war. While what they were doing wasn’t technically treason, it was suspicious enough that they didn’t want to get involved. As far as Julius was concerned, they didn’t need to investigate further. They were still Britannian no matter where they lived, which meant that they had to listen to the emperor’s orders. Coming from the princes, the orders had the same power.

But Schneizel had reversed all of his orders and then dared to tell him that he needed to learn diplomacy.

Julius laughed, throwing the treaty away from him. He watched as the papers scattered on the floor, not bothering to slow down as he walked over them. There was something satisfying about hearing them crumple under his boots as he walked. This was Schneizel’s peace he was stepping on, a peace made of weakness that could be easily broken if the EU decided to push. As far as he could see, it relied on the EU being afraid of Charles, but his father was not young. If things went the way Julius suspected, no one would push for the throne, leaving Odysseus to claim it. Then everything that his father had worked for, everything that he had worked for would fall apart.

He cursed under his breath, turning on his heel and starting down the other side of the room.

He could see the way things would go with Odysseus as the king. Those that had the knack for it, like Schneizel, would try to control him. Those that didn’t would try to steal the throne from him. There would be no stopping the war if Odysseus got on the throne, and Britannia would lose everything. The only way to ensure that the empire stayed strong, that they all stayed safe, was to make sure a powerful prince got on the throne. One who wasn’t afraid to use the might of Britannia.

But to do that, he would have to gain recognition, to gain supporters. And he wasn’t to gain anything doing things Schneizel’s way.

He paused, resting a hand on his hip, drumming his fingers there as he thought it through.

Schneizel had told him enough to go on. Wiesswolfe castle would be easy enough to find and he could get the exact date of the treaty. That, of course, would be if he failed in his original plan. If he was trying to make trouble at the signing itself then it was already too late.

It was just a matter of choosing what to do, there were many ways he could cause the treaty to collapse.

Julius made his way back over to his desk, feeling himself settle. He knew how to get out of the situation despite Schneizel and his mother’s meddling. Julius shivered at the thought.

His mother was becoming weak, which was a shame. She was been one of the strongest knights of the empire once, the Knight of Six. Julius didn’t know what had changed, but he wasn’t going to let it stand. He wouldn’t be stopped by her worry, not when it was misplaced. Schneizel would never let anything happen to him, nor would Sir Kururugi.

He paused with his hand raised, turning the thought over in his head. He didn’t have a guard or a staff to serve him, a horrible oversight on his part. Then again, he hadn’t needed it, not when Schneizel had provided both and made it clear that he was just an observer in all of this. But what he did have was the one knight that accompanied him. Better yet, a Knight of the Round. The laws of Britannia were the only things that could touch them, and even then it was just a mark on their record. Sir Bradley must have had thousands of them and no action had been taken. Besides, it was war and such things could be forgiven in the service of Britannia. It was easy enough to make sure that the records disappeared.

Julius hunched over his laptop, searching through the latest troop positions and lines. If he was going to make this strike then it had to be good. He would only get one shot at it, even if he made sure to send Sir Kururugi out without his personal Knightmare. That would make it all the better, because it would take a while for it to come back to him directly. And, by then, he would have found a way for the situation to be patched up to his liking and the records would have disappeared. Maybe he could even wrap some of the same Euro-Britannian nobles into it as a warning to the others. The empire was not in the habit of being denied.

Julius chuckled to himself, looking at all the military positions. If he was going to do that, then it had to be somewhere close to Euro-Britannian forces, which would give him the added bonus of having reinforcements without having to do more than have a set of orders. There were plenty of orders of knights who would jump at the chance for real battle. He had heard good things about the Ashra squad. If he planned things right, he would get the Knights of St. Michael tangled up in the breaking of the cease fire, and they were deeply connected to the nobility of Euro-Britannia.

He leaned his head on his hand, looking through discarded battle plans. Any of them would do, even if it took some small adjustments. He drummed his fingers against the desk, letting the ideas run through his head.

Breaking the ceasefire would be more than enough to get the EU questioning Britannia. That would certainly delay the treaty, but he wouldn’t get another chance to disrupt completely because Schneizel and the others would be suspicious. It would be better to overdo it than to be cautious. With that being the case, it would be best to attack civilians as well and along a front already in place. Then it would look like Britannia was preparing to start up the war again while the EU relaxed. That was the best strategy.

Julius hummed to himself, smiling as he worked through the formerly most active fronts. He would start there, along with a simple requisition notice for a standard Knightmare. Sir Kururugi would be able to pilot it, Julius was sure of that.

He pushed away from his desk, staring at the map of the front as his plan settled neatly into place. All he would need to do was set the wheels in motion. Sir Kururugi would listen to his orders and then he would need a wild card, someone that would enjoy the destruction. All of that was just too easy.

Julius looked up as the door to his office slid open, smiling as Sir Kururugi stepped inside. His smile flickered a bit when he saw that the knight was still wearing the black and silver cape of mourning. Sir Kururugi had rarely appeared the full formal dress that required the cape, but his suit and been enough and the presence of the Lancelot on the field had worked just as well. Everyone knew which Knightmare belonged to a Knight of the Round.

Sir Kururugi bowed his head, hesitating there before dropping into the full bow that was required. Julius smiled at that. His brother had taught Sir Kururugi bad habits, so it was beyond time that he remembered his place.

Julius let him kneel for a moment before making a small motion. “Rise, Sir Kururugi.”

“Thank you, your highness.” The knight got to his feet, keeping his gaze on the ground. “I came to ask your permission for leave.”

Julius tensed. “Leave?”

“Only a day and I wouldn’t be going far. There’s going to be a ceremony, in remembrance of your brother.”

Julius swallowed, his excitement about his plan sinking away. “Oh, it’s that time already.”

“It’s been a year, your highness.”

That was more than enough time to forget someone. He’d put Clara behind him in that time, and Lelouch was barely a memory until someone else brought him up. It was better to move forward and not leave weaknesses like regret or sorrow. Better to channel those emotions into something else because he couldn’t bring the dead back. In Lelouch’s case, he didn’t want to. He’d won in the way that Britannian princes had always won the things that they wanted.

Julius leaned back, staring at the careful battle plans. One day wouldn’t ruin anything, he needed at least that much to get things set up. The problem was if he really wanted to allow Sir Kururugi that.

Sir Kururugi was his now. His mother and father had given him the Knight of Seven to command. Beyond that, there was his game to consider. The winner was the one who secured Sir Kururugi’s affections. Without Lelouch around, it should have been easy. No one could love a dead person, but Sir Kururugi was persisting in it.

Didn’t he understand that this wasn’t how the game was played? He might have lost the royal favor of one prince but another was offering it openly and eagerly.

Julius frowned at Sir Kururugi, watching as the knight took a step forward, Sir Kururugi looking at him directly now. “Please, your highness, it’s for Lelouch.”

Julius stood up, not bothering to stop the chair from toppling behind him. Even the sound was distant as it clattered to the ground. It was unimportant in the end, especially when compared to the problem at hand.

“You mean, Prince Lelouch.”

Sir Kururugi’s mouth opened and then shut, his head falling forward. It wasn’t a disagreement, but it wasn’t an apology either, and that galled him. And, from the way that Sir Kururugi wasn’t offering anything else, he didn’t intend to. That made everything worse, because it was another one of Lelouch’s allowances. His brother had allowed Sir Kururugi much, too much. Julius didn’t intend to continue the pattern. Sir Kururugi was his, and so it was up to him to bring him to heel.

“No.” The word came out louder than he meant it to, but Julius didn’t want to take it back. He couldn’t with the way that rage bubbled up. “You don’t have permission.”

“But your highness-”

“Nor do you have permission to question me! You are under my command and my orders are final!” Julius slammed his hand down on the desk. “You do not have permission to take leave. You will not go to that ceremony. That’s an order!”

Sir Kururugi swayed in place, Julius expecting to see the same blank expression that the knight always wore. It was the careful deference that should always come with a knight. Instead Sir Kururugi looked furious at him. That expression slid away, but it didn’t go back to normal. Instead it turned into something like cold fury.

Julius straightened his shoulders, ready to give more orders to bring Sir Kururugi back into line when the knight bowed. It wasn’t the full, formal bow that was his due, but a quick one from the waist. Then, Sir Kururugi was turning around and walking out of the door before he was dismissed. Julius could only gape after him as Sir Kururugi disappeared out the door.

He was tempted to order him back, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. It was too much like begging, and he would not beg. Sir Kururugi was his, he had won.

Julius curled his hands into fists, trying to ignore the way that he shook. He would just have to make sure that the lesson was learned, and soon. He couldn’t have Sir Kururugi ruining his plans, especially when they were for Britannia. If that was the case, then he was like the Euro-Britannian nobles and should die for his refusal. But Julius wouldn’t jump there just yet. As a Knight of the Round Sir Kururugi could be forgiven. He just needed time and the right reminders to come back around, and Julius would make sure that he got that.

He sighed and turned around to right his chair. He made sure to keep the motion deliberate, bringing himself back under control. He could worry about Sir Kururugi later, once he was back under control and had a plan, both for disrupting the treaty and for the wayward knight.

---

Suzaku pulled off his jacket as he walked through the hallway by the living quarters. He sighed and pulled the jacket close to him, hugging it tight. He hadn’t known how much he had needed that, the quiet of the church, the words shared quietly between them. Schneizel’s presence had been expected but his participation hadn’t been. It was just another reminder that he hadn’t been the only one to have lost something precious when Lelouch had died. All that was missing was Lady Marianne, Nunnally and Rolo’s voices, but he was sure that they had their own kind of remembrance. It just made him wish that he was back there with them.

He patted the pockets of his jacket, needing something to do with his hands. It didn’t feel like a year since Lelouch had died, it still felt too fresh. At least he had stopped looking for Lelouch around every corner, but there were times when he was half awake that he would expect to roll over and find the prince. The worst were when he’d dream of how it had been and wake up still hearing Lelouch’s voice, but have nothing else.

He shuddered, clutching the jacket closer. That too would pass, maybe in a year and maybe more. He would just have to keep pushing through it. Just like he would have to push through standing guard over Julius.

According to what Schneizel said, it was only a few more weeks. By the time the treaty was signed, he and Julius would be on their way back. It would mean that Julius would have to wait for another assignment. Suzaku might have to ask Schneizel to see that it happened quickly, or else he was sure that Julius would become unbearable. That was one thing that he’d learned about the prince, it was better to keep Julius occupied or he would start to snap at everyone. That might have been the reason for his overreaction earlier. Or maybe it was something else. Julius hadn’t been too happy about the treaty, and Suzaku couldn’t figure out why. It was a victory, an end to the war.

Suzaku frowned as he thought it over before pushing the idea aside. He was tired, worn out from the ceremony and sure to get some kind of lecture from going against Julius’ orders. It wasn’t like he’d skipped his other duties to go, Schneizel had purposefully canceled everything so anyone could come. And a good number did, everyone except…

Suzaku stopped dead, staring down the hallway. He’d been so busy with the ceremony that he hadn’t really thought about who had been there. He’d scanned the room as a matter of habit, but he hadn’t thought about it, not until now. Schneizel and Kanon had been expected, as had the rest of Schneizel’s staff. There had been a few older officers who had known Marianne, and then himself. But the one person who should have been there hadn’t shown up.

It was strange considering how close the twins had been, at least before Julius had gone to the EU. He hadn’t gotten more time to observe the two of them after that, because he’d been focused with Lelouch going to Area 11. And, afterward, he’d been mourning, the whole family had. Except for maybe Julius.

Suzaku shook his head, trying to nudge the suspicion away. People mourned differently, he knew that. Julius might mourn by throwing himself into his work and getting snappish. After all, he had always seemed to resist shows of emotion. Marianne had waved it off, but Lelouch had called it their father’s influence. Suzaku could believe either, which made a likely enough explanation for him.

Even so, he couldn’t shake off the feeling. Maybe it had meant that he had finally adjusted to the thinking in Britannia, or maybe it was his own dislike of the prince coming through.

Suzaku sighed, letting the thoughts drift away. He didn’t want to spend the night mired in politics, he just wanted to curl up and sleep until he was needed in the morning. If he was lucky, then it would be a while.

As he walked, he glanced from side to side, automatically scanning the hall. As expected, the light in Schneizel office was on, but Suzaku was not about to duck in. There was every chance that Schneizel was looking for the same solitude he was, or continuing to work on the treaty. Even for a day like today, it was normal.

What wasn’t was the light still on in Julius’ office. Suzaku slowed down, tempted to just walk past. He didn’t want to deal with Julius just yet, nor until the prince was safely back on the plane and headed back to Britannia. But it was unusual behavior, and Suzaku couldn’t imagine what Julius was up doing.

Suzaku slowed down, about to bypass the office and take the long way back to his rooms when he heard someone shift inside.

“Sir Kururugi?”

Suzaku sighed, but stepped into the doorway. “Yes, your highness?”

Julius didn’t answer immediately, and it wasn’t hard to see why. The papers that had been on the desk were now on the floor, the surface cleared for the bottle of wine and glass. The glass had remains of wine in it, but it looked like it had been discarded for the moment. Julius was clutching the neck of the bottle, his grip surprisingly unsteady for the amount that was still in the bottle.

Suzaku stared at Julius for a moment before dropping into the full bow, closing his eyes when he heard Julius sigh. It was the smallest things that kept the prince happy, which were all the things that he felt like Lady Marianne and Lelouch had trained him out of.

Suzaku risked a glance up, watching as Julius settled back in his seat. The prince played with the bottle of wine for a moment before setting it aside. Julius motioned for him to get up, Suzaku watching him for a moment before getting to his feet. Julius was quick to motion for him to step forward, Suzaku glancing at the door that had been left open. That too wasn’t like Julius.

He approached the desk cautiously, stopping a good distance from it. It seemed to be enough for Julius because the prince smiled and nodded at him. “You went.”

It was obvious what Julius was talking about. Suzaku didn’t bother to try and lie, he just nodded. “I did. Prince Schneizel invited me.”

“Of course.” Julius made a vague motion with his hand. “He is our superior in this, and you can’t ignore an order from him.”

There was a bit of bitterness to Julius’ voice, Suzaku tensing at it. If Julius noticed, the prince didn’t show it. He just stood up and stared walking around his desk. “I guess he thought he was doing you a favor, and maybe he was. Schneizel has a way of reading people. It must be why he didn’t invite me.”

“But you were welcome.”

“I would have refused.” Julius leaned heavily on the desk, his gaze jerking away. “I’m not one to air my sorrows in a group. I prefer to do it alone.” He nodded over at the wine. “And I would have continued.”

“Apologizes, but I saw the door open.”

Julius looked at the door, blinking at it like he was surprised to see it like that before he shook his head. “I must have…left it like that.”

It seemed to take him effort to talk, something that made Suzaku hesitate. He’d never seen Julius like this, the tight strings that held the prince together starting to come loose. It reminded him more of Lelouch, of when the two of them had gotten to know each other. Lelouch had always been willing to let the careful mask of prince drop, but Julius held his close, like it was the only thing keeping him safe or together.

Julius stumbled a few more steps forward before leaning back against his desk with a groan. He stared at the desk before shaking his head. “As you can see, I’m fine. You probably saw all the guards on your way in so…” Julius waved to the hall, the motion surprisingly steady. “You can consider yourself dismissed for the day.”

“But-”

“I will overlook this conduct, just this once.” Julius smiled at him, almost managing to look like he was in on some joke. “Call it a favor between the two of us.”

Suzaku just stopped himself from raising an eyebrow. It felt too casual, something that Julius had never stooped to in the entire time that Suzaku had known him. It all felt wrong.

He swayed in place, not sure if he was tempted to leave and put the conversation behind them or search the room. There wasn’t anywhere to hide in the office, Suzaku had checked it plenty of times himself. Besides, he couldn’t think of an enemy that would convince Julius to act friendly to him. If anything, it was the wine, except the bottle looked like maybe one glass had been poured out of it.

His gaze flicked back to Julius as the prince stumbled forward. Julius caught himself on one of the chairs before shoving himself away. Suzaku leaned back as Julius got closer, the prince reaching out for him. For a moment, it looked like he was about to fall, and it was instinct for Suzaku to reach out to catch him.

Julius grunted slightly, leaning against him. Suzaku expected the prince to push away, but Julius remained leaning against him, apparently content to remain there. Suzaku tensed, his gaze jumping back to the barely touched bottle of wine. There was every chance that he was wrong, but he had learned to trust his instincts.

Julius didn’t smell like alcohol.

“You high-” Suzaku went still as he felt Julius’ hand against his neck.

The prince’s hand moved up, Julius’ fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck as Julius pulled away slightly. Julius stared at him for a moment, his eyes very focused for one who seemed to be playing at being drunk.

It took a moment for Julius to smile, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Julius seemed to take it as encouragement, his other hand sliding up Suzaku’s chest. “Although, now that you’re here, I can see why some people don’t hide themselves away.”

“Y-your highness, I-” He was stopped by Julius’ finger on his lips. Suzaku recoiled, but Julius followed him, his finger tracing over Suzaku’s lips.

“I think we can do something that will help the both of us. Comfort me.”

Suzaku shoved Julius away, his stomach twisting violently. He barely noticed the prince stumbling back into his desk, he was just filled with revulsion.

He reached up to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, like that would chase away Julius’ touch. It didn’t work, Suzaku shivering at the memory of the touch.

“That was an order, Sir Kururugi.” Suzaku jerked his gaze up, watching as Julius pushed himself away from the desk. The prince seemed to have given up all pretenses of being drunk. “What’s the matter? You liked it when Lelouch did it to you?”

A cruel smile crossed his face. “Did you think we didn’t know? The two of you made it very obvious from the start. There was not a soul in Aries Villa that couldn’t see what you and my brother were doing…except maybe you. Did you really think that a prince would waste his time with an Eleven without a reason?”

“That’s not-”

“What he told you. I see.” Julius leaned back on the desk, the picture of ease. “You see, we were playing a game. Lelouch and I…we get bored so easily. Or we did. Whichever.”

It felt like a cold hand was squeezing his heart, Suzaku unable to do anything but stare at Julius.

That seemed to be what Julius wanted because his grin widened. “So he never told you? Maybe I should have let you have that. But did you really think that any one of our family would pick out an Eleven like you to favor.”

“Honorary Britannian.” The words came out softly, almost an afterthought of a defense.

Julius huffed and shook his head. “It’s like calling a fruit overripe. It does nothing but give something a pretty title. It means the same thing in the end. The fruit is rotting and you’re just a Number. A quick tumble and nothing more.”

Suzaku shook his head, trying to speak through the horror that held him still. “No, that’s not the truth.”

That finally knocked the grin off of Julius’ face, the prince slumping a bit. He frowned at Suzaku. “How would you know that? You knew my brother for a year, I knew him all of his life.”

Suzaku shook his head, not willing to give Julius that answer. Any conversation that he’d had with Lelouch was going to remain between the two of them, as it should be. Julius had no part in it.

His silence seemed to enrage the prince even more.

Julius slammed a fist onto the desk with a low growl. “He lied to you!”

“No.”

“Yes did! It’s the only way he could have won!” Julius flailed an arm out, not caring that he knocked the bottle of wine and glass over. The bottle tipped to the side, the wine spilling out, but the glass rolled off the table and cracked. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet, but Julius didn’t bother to look back at it.

Julius shoved himself away from the desk, storming towards him.

Suzaku took a step back  when Julius grabbed for the front of his shirt. Suzaku reached down to unhook Julius’ fingers, but he stopped himself. Julius was still a prince of the empire.

Julius glared up at him, making the motions like he was going to jerk him around, but the prince didn’t manage it. It didn’t matter, because the rage on Julius’ face was enough to keep him pinned in place.

“He only won because he cheated!” Suzaku jerked his head back as spit flew from Julius’ mouth, the prince too far gone to notice. “Like everything else Lelouch did, he cheated at it! The game was to get your attention, not to fuck you.”

Suzaku tipped his chin up. “Would that come later?”

Julius’ upper lip curled, the prince staring at him before shoving him away. “I don’t have to answer you. You’re mine to command.”

“I answer to the emperor.”

“He’s given command of you to me. Besides, I won our game.”

“But Lelouch died…” Suzaku trailed off when he saw the same pleased grin cross Julius’ face. It was not the grin of a grieving brother, it was the grin of someone who had gotten their way. It looked like the triumphant grin that Lelouch would sometimes get when he got his way, a trait that Julius shared. Except that meant that…

Suzaku took a step back, staring at Julius with wide eyes. “You.”

Julius shrugged. “Lelouch cheated, which meant that I could as well. Anything to win.”

Suzaku shook his head at Julius, watching for some kind of sign of regret, or that Julius was joking. He would take either, but Julius didn’t seem to care. He just leaned back on the desk and smirked.

Suzaku was filled with the urge to rush forward and punch Julius’ smug face in, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything. No one would take his word, not even as Knight of Seven. Julius would always win that argument and Suzaku couldn’t stand it. Lady Marianne had told him to watch over Julius, but he just couldn’t not knowing that Julius had been the one to kill Lelouch, and all because of him.

He clenched his hands into fists, staring at the prince. He allowed himself a moment then he turned on his heel and walked out of the office. Suzaku heard Julius call for him, but he ignored it. Julius could shout for him all he wanted, but Suzaku had no intention of coming back. He was not about to stand by a murderer, not when he was going to be treated like a prize and certainly not when it was Lelouch’s killer.

He took a deep breath, looking around the hall before his gaze settled on Schneizel’s office. He was moving before he could really think about what he was doing, all he could remember was that Lelouch had always spoken fondly about Schneizel.

He would never be able to accuse Julius of the crime. For all of his skills and patronage, he was just another Eleven. The best he could do was to be taken away from Julius. Far enough away that he could forget that he had ever heard about the vi Britannia family. As much as it pained him, it seemed to be the best thing he could do.

Suzaku swallowed hard, steeling himself as he knocked on the door. The voices on the other side stopped, Suzaku taking a step back as Kanon peered through the door. Suzaku looked past him towards where Schneizel sat at his desk, the prince looking less putt together than Suzaku had ever seen. His gaze flicked to where a pair of jackets were casually tossed over the only other chair in the room, the seat filled far too much for anyone to have been sitting in it.

Suzaku shrugged it off, focusing on the prince. It was only a matter of time before Julius recovered and came bellowing after him.

He bowed slightly, bracing himself with one hand on the doorway. “There’s something I want to ask you, Prince Schneizel.”

[padawanlost]

I've never really been able to tell what Count Dooku's motivations were in the clone wars. Did he just want to rule the galaxy like Sidious? Or did he have another reason for doing what he did? And did he have any idea about Sidious' plans for turning Anakin?

Dooku is areally interesting character but he never got the development he deserved. Themovies barely scratched the surface but the EU give some interesting pieces of information. Here is what we know about him (and how it influenced him and his lateractions as a Sith):

He had apretty normal upbringing within the Jedi Order, he was considered talented andwas well liked. But he knew about his birth family and the power and fortunethey had. I don’t know how much that knowledge influenced his personality, butDooku is portrayed as more haughty than the average Jedi. valuing things likepower and birth over skill (that’s why he had such a problem with Anakin butmore on that later).

[Dooku] did not think of it as pride, anyway. It was assurance.Assurance of his abilities merely grew with each mission, as it should. Yoda had mistaken sureness for pride, whichis exactly what he had warned Dooku not to do. And if it was pride for Dooku tothink of himself as wiser than Yoda in this instance, Dooku wasn’t concerned.Yoda was not always right. [Jude Watson’s Legacy of the Jedi]

Dookubecome a Jedi and decided he would train a talented and powerful padawan calledQui-Gon Jinn.

Now he was a Master with an apprentice. Qui-Gon Jinn had been the most promising ofthe Padawans, and Dooku had maneuvered to get him the first time he saw him inlightsaber training, at ten years old. Dookuknew that a Master would be judged by the prowess of his Padawan, and he wantedthe best of the best. When Yoda had given his approval of the match, Dookuhad been satisfied. Another step had been taken toward his goal — to surpassYoda as the greatest Jedi ever. [Jude Watson’s Legacy of the Jedi]

“Your flaw is your need for connection tothe living Force. Qui-Gon, the galaxy is crowded with beings. The Jedi Order ishere to support you. Nevertheless you must carry the following knowledge inyour heart,” Dooku said. “Youare always alone, and betrayal is inevitable.” [Jude Watson’s Legacyof the Jedi]

During hisJedi years, as he witnessed the failings of the Jedi Order and the corruptionin the Senate he became more and more disillusioned with both. One of theturning points was the Battle of Galidraan (where a lot of Jedi died and killedon the orders of a corrupt politician working with the Death Watch).

It was a massacre; and the Jedi had carried itout, pawns of the corrupt Galidraangovernor, who had set up the Mandalorian army for his own agenda. Lookingback on it, Dooku saw it was the tippingpoint that had changed his life. It was the moment he had started to think. Ibelieved my Masters. I didn’t think for myself. They didn’t question, either;they took the governor at his word. They just believed. And we killed people.We killed them on the say-so of a criminal. [Karen Traviss’ the Clone Wars.]

He tried to change things, he told people abouthis fears but it all went ignored. When the Naboo Crisis started he wasdone with both the Order and Republic. Once he heard the news of Qui-Gon’sdeath he picked up his things and left.

 His discontent hadcontinued to grow and fester; his frustration with the Republic Senate,with ineffectual Supreme Chancellor Valorum, with the shortsightedness ofthe Jedi Council members themselves. A Trade Federation blockade of Naboo,rumors of a Chosen One found on a desert world, the death of Qui-Gon Jinnat the hands of a Sith … How could the Council members not seewhat was happening? How could they continue to claim that the dark sideobscured all?

Dooku had said as much to anyone who would listen. He wore hisdiscontent on the sleeve of his robes. Though they hadn’t enjoyed the smoothest ofstudent–teacher relationships, he and Yoda had spoken openly of the portents. ButYoda was living proof of a conservatism that came with extended life. Dooku’strue confidant had been Master Sifo-Dyas, who, while also disturbed by what wasoccurring, was too weak to take action.

The Battle of Naboo hadrevealed that the Sith were back in the open, and that a Sith Lord was at worksomewhere. The Sith Lord: the one born with the power needed to take the finalstep. Dooku had given thought to seeking him out, perhaps killing him.But even what little faith he placed in the prophecy was enough to raise doubtthat the death of a Sith could halt the advance of the dark side. Another wouldcome, and another. [JamesLuceno’s Labyrinth of Evi]

Here is his final letter to the Jedi Council:

For many years, I have served the Jedi Order and done my best to honorthe traditions of the Jedi. Today I am compelled to announce that I am leavingthe Order. It is not unreasonable for anyone to wonder why I have decided toleave at this time. Yes, I am aware of various allegedly discreet queries fromthose searching for a reason. Therecent, tragic loss of my former pupil, Qui-Gon singly corrupt Senate? Some ofmy contemporaries have suggested that seeds of discontent were planted twelveyears ago, at the Battle of Galidraan. While I cannot deny that these eventshave left their mark on me, I will only allow that the time has come that I canno longer be a Jedi. As most of you are aware, financial resources are atmy disposal on my home-world, Serenno. While I would like to think my manyyears of devoted service to the Order disavows any notions that I am yieldingto economic circumstances, I will enlighten those who don’t know me so wellwith a certain piece of wisdom that I have always found true: money creates asmany problems as it does opportunities. It is my plan to return to Serenno andserve my people as a philanthropist. It is my last request as a Jedi Masterthat you respect my decision, as well as my privacy. Good-bye, old friends, andmay the Force be with you.

Dooku and Palpatine werefriends. He was the one who told Palpatine about Anakin’s chosen one status.Palpatine was aware of Dooku’s unhappiness and he knew he would be looking forhim so he approached Dooku with a proposition to “save the galaxy”:

As it happened, therehad been no need to hunt for Sidious, for it was Sidious who had approachedhim. Sidious’s boldness surprised him at first, but it hadn’t taken longfor Dooku to become fascinated by the Sith. Instead of a lightsaber duel to thedeath, there had been much discussion, and a gradual understanding that theirseparate visions for how the galaxy might be rescued from depravity werenot so different after all. [James Luceno’s Labyrinth of Evi]

“depravity” - keep that word in your mind!

Dooku’s goal was to “savethe galaxy” by removing the Senate and the Jedi. Once they were gone so wouldthe corruption and he and Palpatine would be free to build a better world. In away, Palpatine played with his hopes the same way he did with Anakin. hepretended he shared Dooku’s feelings, offered a solution and used him as his pawn.

Which brings us to Anakin andObi-wan. Dooku knew Palpatine wanted Anakin but he still believed Obi-wan was abetter choice:

“May I suggest, Master, that we give Kenobi one last chance? Thesupport of a Jedi of his integrity would be invaluable in establishing thepolitical legitimacy of our Empire.” “Ah, yes. Kenobi.” His Master’s voice wentsilken. “You have long been interestedin Kenobi, haven’t you?” “Of course. His Master was my Padawan; in a sense,he’s practically my grandson—” “Heis too old. Too indoctrinated. Irretrievably poisoned by Jedi fables. Weestablished that on Geonosis, did we not? In his mind, he serves the Forceitself; reality is nothing in the face of such conviction.” [Matthew Stover’s Revengeof the Sith]

“But I must ask, my Master: is Skywalker truly the man we want?”“He is powerful. Potentially more powerful than even myself.” “Which isprecisely,” Dooku said meditatively, “why it might be best if I were to killhim, instead.” “Are you so certain that you can?” “Please. Of what use is powerunstructured by discipline? The boy is as much a danger to himself as he is tohis enemies. And that mechanical arm—”Dooku’s lip curled with cultivateddistaste. “Revolting.” “Then perhaps you should have spared his real arm.”“Hmp. A gentleman would have learned tofight one-handed.” Dooku flicked a dismissive wave. “He’s no longer evenentirely human. With Grievous, the use of these bio-droid devices is almostforgivable; he was such a disgusting creature already that his mechanical partsare clearly an improvement. But a blendof droid and human? Appalling. The depths of bad taste. How are we to justifyassociating with him?” [Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith]

Dooku is ableist. He doesn’tcare about Anakin’s power at all. He’s far more interested in the lesspowerful but “wholesome” Kenobi.  And thataffects his view of a “better galaxy”:

A government clean, pure, direct: none of the messy scramble for the favor of ignorantrabble and subhuman creatures thatmade up the Republic he so despised. The government he would serve would beAuthority personified. Human authority.[Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith]

Dooku’s ideology is disgustingand he hides it worse than Palpatine. He wants the save the galaxy from those heconsider subhuman creates so he can enjoy peace for those he deems worthy (theclean, pure ones). He wants to end the depravity! That’s why he is so interested in Obi-wan and why he loathesAnakin. Dooku is motivated by his prejudices and his own arrogance.That’s all he truly wants: a world where humans rules and everyone who doesn’t look or sound like him is considered inferior and treated as such.

[journalofthememes]

Star Wars EU/Legends Quote Starters - Skywalker Family Edition

( 186 quotes in total, extending below the readmore ) 

❝ I don't like that you can win an argument without using verbs. ❞  ❝ The future is to be lived, not prearranged. ❞  ❝ Did you just make me stand on my head for two hours because I was annoying you? ❞  ❝ Thank you for reducing our task to its basic components. Come on. ❞  ❝ Are you content? You've been alone for so long... ❞  ❝ Your emotions betray you. ❞  ❝ Would you please stop saying things like that? ❞  ❝ I'm always prepared to entertain the suggestion that I’m wrong. The universe is nothing if not humbling. ❞  ❝ That’s not what I was going to say, but it’s probably true. ❞  ❝ You don't plan to infiltrate an Imperial battle station and save a princess, do you? ❞  ❝ No. I'm your father. That's my job. ❞  ❝ Not everything here is dead. You're alive. I'm alive. ❞  ❝ Trust me or kill me, ___. In the end, it'll come out the same. I will not harm you. ❞  ❝ My name is ____, and I want you to take my hand. ❞  ❝ None of the stories people tell about me can change who I really am. ❞  ❝ If it's not too much of a cliché, take me to your leader. If it is too much of a cliché, take me anyway. ❞    ❝ Smells good. Just like we used to make back home. ❞  ❝ No, it was the food — definitely the food. ❞  ❝ What's a duck? ❞  ❝ I've not done anything like this before. ❞  ❝ That ‘rock’ also happens to be the location of one of ____'s strongholds. ❞ ❝ We built junk racers more sophisticated than this out of spare parts when I was ten. ❞     ❝ I have to say, this sounds like the worst idea in a thousand generations of bad ideas. ❞  ❝ I laid a trap. That's quite a bit different than inviting them. ❞ ❝ The deepest cut I ever gave him was in refusing to join him. I think the next deepest cut was when I forgave him. ❞  ❝ You've probably heard this before, but it's a trap. ❞  ❝ I'll be careful. ❞  ❝ Now go, and stop worrying, or I swear I'll come back as a ghost and bug you while you're on a date. ❞  ❝ There are times when the end justifies the means. But when you build an argument based on a whole series of such times, you may find that you've constructed an entire philosophy of evil. ❞  ❝ Bionic hand, I love you! ❞  ❝ We all need a dream. ❞  ❝ I have a few... associates accompanying me. ❞ ❝ And there's something else. I sensed a disturbance in the Force. ❞ ❝ Is there something you want to tell me? ❞  ❝ You really don't want to see me angry, and I think you're smart enough to know that. ❞    ❝ If you want to try me, go ahead and make that threat. ❞  ❝ Well, the truth is in there somewhere… ❞  ❝ Can you do two hundred push-ups? ❞  ❝ Hey, there are worse family traditions. ❞  ❝ That's — I mean, thanks, but I barely know anything. ❞  ❝ Could anything be worse than what we already know? ❞

❝ You think the dark side is scary, you say that to her. ❞  ❝ I activated my lightsaber first. That's not what Jedi do. ❞    ❝ We protect and defend those who can't defend themselves. ❞    ❝ I failed my first test on the whole light side–dark side thing pretty miserably. ❞  ❝ I don't have a title—I'm not a Senator, I'm not a general any longer, I'm not an ambassador. He used my name like an insult.   ❞  ❝ You know what I like about coming to worlds so backrocket that no one watches the news broadcasts? No one ever says, “Hey, you look taller on the 'Net.” ❞ ❝ I won't be the first to die to keep you from winning. ❞  ❝ Your feelings betray you. ❞  ❝ You can't just walk up to a woman and say 'Hello, I've heard about your large bank account, let's get married.' ❞ ❝ No thanks, I don't want to look like a grumpy, thickheaded, craggy-faced old man. ❞  ❝ Yes, of course... ___, roll your eyes for me, would you? I'm out of practice. ❞  ❝ That works for you? I hope you don't expect me to believe that. ❞   ❝ Your lack of faith hurts me. ❞  ❝ When you become a father, you'll discover how much fun that is. ❞  ❝ Sometimes a Jedi must deal with the disappointment of having to tell the truth. ❞  ❝ I'll trust you to improve the story. ❞  ❝ Watch your language. ❞  ❝ Do you really want to take me on right now? I don't recommend it. ❞  ❝ Every generation has its challenges to face, its own battles to win. Why should yours be any different? Running away from your responsibilities won't solve anything. ❞  ❝ So you see, there never was any real danger. All flash—no crash. Everybody happy? ❞  ❝ I'll have my lightsaber... and you can have your blasters... What else could you ask for? ❞  ❝ Sometimes, what we succeed in doing is not exactly what we intended to do. Focus on what you accomplished, rather than on what you merely hoped to do. ❞  ❝ You may begin his training immediately. ❞  ❝ The Force calls each of us differently. ❞  ❝ Be careful who you smile at around here. I'm not ready to be a grandfather. Or even a father-in-law. ❞  ❝ You think you might be happier dispensing caf or sketching caricatures? ❞  ❝ I think you've just been adopted. ❞  ❝ There was a sense to you, when we met, that would not let me fear you. ❞  ❝ Countless others have learned that not fearing ___ can be trouble. ❞  ❝ The Force brought us together, and kept bringing us together until neither of us could deny our destiny to be together forever. ❞  ❝ If you do not take your hands off her, I will take your hands off you. ❞  ❝ That bad? Keep the drinks coming, please. ❞  ❝ I mean regardless. ❞  ❝ I feel... fear and anger. Aggression. Danger. ❞  ❝ The Jedi were the guardians of peace. The servants of the Old Republic, not its masters. ❞  ❝ I was just thinking about how I'm going to have to train them some day. ❞  ❝ Behold, the favorite weapon of Jedi before the invention of the lightsaber - the sledgehammer.❞   ❝ Aghh! What are you doing? ❞  ❝ You are like tempered steel, purposeful and razor-keen. ❞  ❝ Always you shall be in the front rank, a burning brand to your enemies, a brilliant fire to your friends. ❞     ❝ Take comfort in the fact that, though you stand tall and alone, others take shelter in the shadow that you cast. ❞ ❝ I am so glad I found you and didn't kill you. ❞  ❝ Really? And I always thought the reason you left was to join the Rebellion and save the galaxy.❞  ❝ Have you tried cash? Money. A travel case full of credit notes. You know. A bribe. Or make it sound nice. Call it a consulting fee. ❞  ❝ It is, as some admiral once said, a trap. ❞  ❝ Time for you to do one of the six or eight things you do best. ❞  ❝ Well, what happens if you need a diplomat who can also practice philosophy, fight with a lightsaber, and levitate small objects? ❞  ❝ Who else are they going to call but us? ❞  ❝ It's always nice to meet new people and make new enemies. ❞  ❝ If I wanted to tell you, I would, wouldn't I? ❞  ❝ You've got me. I hate that shirt. In fact, I think you're a crummy dresser, period. ❞  ❝ Darling. I love you, you are my life and my light - but If you ever do this to me again I will vape you where you stand. ❞  ❝ He could have called you 'Master'. Like I do sometimes. ❞  ❝ I always play fair. Exactly as fair as my opponents. ❞  ❝ Where did you learn that smile? Have you been practicing in front of a holo of Han Solo? ❞  ❝ It's not about the legacy you leave, it's about the life you live. ❞  ❝ I don't want to discourage your curiosity, but I have to remind you, if something goes wrong, this is an exceptionally embarrassing way to die. ❞  ❝ Stupid, stupid. A big fat diversion—the oldest trick on the list, and I fell for it like some dumb farm kid. ❞  ❝ You can't hear a whisper if you're constantly shouting. ❞  ❝ I've been letting you do the talking, and all it's gotten us so far is an enforced vacation. ❞  ❝ Negotiating is the art of getting what you want. It's not the art of making the other side feel better. ❞  ❝ If they were our partners, we wouldn't need to negotiate. ❞  ❝ Okay, so maybe my best friend's a lizard. ❞  ❝ The wrath of the Empire truly knows no boundaries. ❞  ❝ We can't keep meeting like this, ___. ❞  ❝ When I first met ___, I was under a compulsion to kill him. Generally not a good sign for a lasting relationship. ❞  ❝ He accepted me, as no one else had done before. ❞  ❝ The coming battle may prove their intent. ❞  ❝ I secretly hope he will betray us. ❞    ❝ You mean if we get out of here alive? ❞  ❝ During my training I have witnessed few who dared defy the Empire. ❞  ❝ The desire to be out there saving the galaxy is in your blood so thick I can hear it screaming from here. ❞  ❝ Trust me, my capacity for mayhem is undiminished. ❞  ❝ Service to evil is still evil. ❞  ❝ What you're saying is that doing something wrong isn't really wrong if your motives are good. That's nonsense. ❞  ❝ Sure, why not? I didn't have anything else planned for after lunch. ❞  ❝ Look after my apprentice, won't you? ❞  ❝ I get the proverbial bad feeling about this. ❞  ❝ Don't you people have a conscience? ❞  ❝ Betray me? As in they stab me in the back, or do they just give me a swift kick in the butt? ❞  ❝ Do you wax your beard? It just seems very shiny. ❞  ❝ Your eyes can deceive you, be mindful of your feelings, girls are fun but dangerous, and ____ has extra cards up his sleeve. ❞  ❝ Sorry about my last message. I’ve been assured that whining is a family trait and that I should be over it by the time I'm thirty, but that's not much comfort. ❞  ❝ It’s our job to keep the Force in balance and to help people stay in balance with the Force, to detect wrongs and make them right, and to serve as models for very attractive lines of boots. ❞  ❝ Oh. That's sad. I was looking forward to being called Sparky. ❞  ❝ ___, what's ‘kriffing’? ❞  ❝ I don't think I've ever seen so many brown robes together in one place. It's like a showroom for the world's dullest textile factory. ❞  ❝ You have the manners of a bantha with digestion problems. If you had children, I hope they were raised by piranha-beetles so they'd be nicer than you. ❞  ❝ You know us, practicing the fine family tradition of rescuing people from the dark side. ❞  ❝ I like my body intact, thank you very much. ❞  ❝ You know, it gives me hope that you screwed up so badly and so consistently as a kid. ❞  ❝ How do you feel? Better than you look, I hope. ❞  ❝ Have a peaceful... whatever. ❞  ❝ This, from the man who's worn a bowl-cut hairstyle almost all his adult life. ❞  ❝ If you start to feel evil, tell me as soon as possible. Don't wait and cut my hand off first. ❞  ❝ When the rocks fall, we get out of the way. ❞  ❝ Sorry. I just got tired of hearing the same old phrases, the same old way, year after year. ❞  ❝ Use the same cliché phrases too long and people stop hearing their message, you know? ❞  ❝ Don't feel bad. Civilized politics are even worse. ❞  ❝ What if we're completely wrong? ❞  ❝ A Jedi without a lightsaber is a lot less dashing to the girls. ❞  ❝ Coincidence, or misinterpretation. People hear what they want to hear. Keep it vague enough, and a prophecy or prediction'll fit pretty much anything. ❞  ❝ I've… got a strange feeling... As if… as if I've been here before! ❞  ❝ Is mind reading a new Force power you picked up and forgot to tell me about? ❞  ❝ Don't get killed, ___. ❞  ❝ That's... hardly ever a good thing. ❞  ❝ Oh, but this is nothing like Dagobah, where mold rotted everything, duraplast included, and did it stink. Even my lightsaber blade stank. Food stank. Yoda stank. Distilled water stank, I'm not sure how. ❞  ❝ Great. Should I open the top hatch and hurl rocks at it? ❞  ❝ In the future, I suggest that we only ever fight guys who set up their lairs in posh hotel suites. ❞  ❝ I know, I know... ‘Back in the old days’. Back during the Empire. Back when starships were made of wood. Back when there were no holodramas, just puppet shows. Back when a hypercomm system was a long string stretched between two planets with a durasteel caf cup at either end... ❞  ❝ Let us not devolve into insults. ❞  ❝ You're about to meet a whole bunch of people who not long ago were your sworn enemies and say, “Hi there, I used to be a ___ but I’m not anymore.” I’d be nervous too. ❞  ❝ ___ is no assassin! They’re my best friend. ❞  ❝ Not everything that comes through the freight system is a stock item. ❞  ❝ I apologized, but they didn't accept it. They just used it as an excuse to keep being rude. ❞  ❝ Is politics always like that? Why don't you both say what you mean? ❞  ❝ If they're both afraid of the same thing, why are they on opposite sides? ❞    ❝ Doing the right thing isn't something special. It's the minimum. It's where we start each morning, not where we try to end up one day in the future. ❞    ❝ I have no time for you now. I must first liberate the planet. ❞  ❝ So you're behind this, you poisonous traitor. ❞  ❝ Politics is an ancient and noble calling. Without politicians our societies would descend into anarchy and chaos. ❞  ❝ I'm not claiming the system is perfect. Obviously there's room for improvement. ❞  ❝ Oh yes, what a useful recommendation for my candidacy. “Likes to drive dangerous machines very fast.” ❞  ❝ If I am ever elected Supreme Chancellor of the Senate, I will decree that all Jedi must demonstrate an emotion at least once a year. ❞  ❝ Rumor has it you were hurt defending the spynet facility. ❞  ❝ Of course he did. I believe that's his job description, isn't it? ❞  ❝ ‘Force’ me out of the Order? Was that a pun? ❞  ❝ And you, what does your heart tell you you're meant for? ❞  ❝ Ours is a path of service. We serve justice. ❞  ❝ There is no justifying... my actions. Yet I was saved from darkness. You must believe me. ❞  ❝ The comm system isn't being jammed in the planetary atmosphere. It's being jammed from space. ❞  ❝ I hereby authorize you to be nervous, too. ❞  ❝ Are you thinking that's our way in? ❞  ❝ We have a lot in common, ___. Perhaps we'll meet again. ❞  ❝ I can ask ____. They'll tell me what I want to know. ❞  ❝ I could fly this thing in my sleep. ❞

Bonus: Darth Vader Quotes

❝ It is pointless to concern yourself with your friends now. The Force has ordained this moment.❞   ❝ I am a disturbance in the Force. ❞  ❝ The Emperor is not here. I speak for the Empire. ❞  ❝ You may keep your title — for another two minutes. ❞ ❝ I am your reward; you don't find me handsome? ❞   ❝ Tell the navigator if we arrive one minute after his estimate, he needn't worry about the return trip. ❞  ❝ Only you have the skill, the determination, and the training to enable you to follow a path so cold, and twisted, and dangerous, and pointless. ❞  ❝ The old system is dead. You would be wise to subscribe to the new one. ❞  ❝ I hope, for your sake, this is important. ❞