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lets-try-some-writing · 8 months

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Whims of the Fae

Fae walk among the people of Cybertron. They are so few in number that often their actions become mere tales, lost to rumor. But their presence is undeniable to those who know the signs, and in recent cycles, they have begun to gather. Optronix didn't care about the strange stories and the concerns of potential war. He was just a dock worker. What did it matter to him?

That was what he thought until one Head Archivist found himself "lost" in Optronix's place of work. It was only polite to help the poor mech out...

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“You need to be careful! Don’t want the fair folk stealing you away!” Dion smacked him on the back fondly and chugged his ration like it was the last he would ever consume. Optronix grimaced and held his ration calmly. Dion always lived every cycle like it was his last, which considering their station, it very well could have been. Low caste mecha generally didn’t make it past thirty vorns before they gave out or were offlined in some accident.

“The fair folk are just stories. You know that, Dion.” Optronix muttered as he watched the area around him warily. There was something… off. He couldn’t place it exactly, but the very air seemed unsettled, distorted in a sense. Maybe it was the fumes from the ships coming in and out of the docks getting to him.

“Sure! But you are still too nice for your own good! At this rate, some mech is going to scam you for all you are worth and leave you dead in a ditch.” Dion gave him a slightly more serious look, but he promptly stood and stretched, an alarm on his arm blaring.

“Take care of yourself, buddy. I’ve got another shift.” Dion’s back gave a worrying crack and Optronix frowned as his elder friend winced. Dion was only twenty vorns old, but he was already showing wear and tear worthy of mecha deep into their fifth millennia of life. It concerned him, but there was little he could do aside from help in minor ways. Getting a medic cost an arm and a leg down on the docks. The most they could afford were the back alley scrappers who knew about anatomy from picking mecha apart for the organ trade in the red light district.

Optronix shuddered as he considered that possibility. No mech in their right mind wanted to go anywhere near a scrapper unless they were literally bleeding to death. He frowned as he looked down at his leg where bolt scars remained from the singular time he’d been forced to go to a scrapper. He was lucky it was just his leg. Dion going for his back would end with him losing his spinal struts in an ‘accident’.

He sighed as he broke from his thoughts and Optronix stood and gently pressed on the small of Dion’s back, snapping a component back into place and earning a relieved sigh in return. His friend stretched again, this time with far more flexibility as his spinal struts realigned.

“Be careful Dion. I don’t want you offlining due to overexertion.” Optronix smiled, but it was strained. If Dion noticed, he didn’t say anything. Their kind were condemned to die, they knew it from the moment they were assigned their function and caste. Still, it hurt to acknowledge once it started to have an effect on reality.

“I will. Make sure to actually drink your ration this time. Don’t give it out to some stranger again.” Dion waved as he walked off and Optronix held his energon cube with a sigh. He was done for the cycle, unlike his companion. Arriving extra early meant he got to go to his dingy hab at a reasonable time. Not that there was much to do at his hab aside from wallow of course, but it was nice to have the free time to just… exist.

He tried to focus on that pleasant aspect of his routine as he began heading toward the exit of the docks. And yet despite his concern for Dion and the overall relief that came from being done with his regular hard labor, Optronix found himself on edge. The feeling of wrong was getting stronger, and no matter where he looked, everything seemed to be off. He tried to move faster, hoping to go to his hab and have the feeling fade. But before he could, an elegant and most certainly higher caste voice called out to him.

“Excuse me, I appear to have gotten quite turned around. Would you perhaps be willing to guide me to the train to upper Iacon?” Optronix whipped around far faster than he would have liked. His optics were wide and his finials perked in instinctual terror as he laid his gaze upon a smaller mech, not particularly shapely, but sturdy and his armor hugging him in appealing ways. His red and blue plating shone with all the luster of the newly forged and his face was without blemish, two perfectly innocent and yet eerily knowledgeable optics shining up at him.

Every part of his coding demanded he run, and yet Optronix found himself enraptured. It wasn’t natural, but this mech was… strange. His EM field was soothing and compelling in a sense. Optronix didn’t want to leave even as the mech stepped forward.

“Sure! I can get you there in no time Sir!” Optronix hastily replied, turning away from those optics that seemed to stare into his very spark. Quickly reviewing his memory, Optronix gestured for the mech to follow and began to walk. He looked over at the smaller bot periodically, but otherwise they continued in silence. He still held his energon cube, but as soon as they left the docks, he found his tanks churning in nausea.

He didn’t want to waste it, but he wouldn’t be refueling anytime soon now. Everything felt too strange for him to even hope to keep any energon down. Looking over at his companion, Optronix found himself torn. The mech had come with him without question, and that was worrying. If Optronix were anyone else, the high caste mech would likely be taken into some dark alley and shredded for parts or otherwise mutilated. The fact that his companion opted to follow him so easily was off putting, and not in the way Optronix expected.

It stank of some sort of trap. There wasn’t a mech dumb enough to follow a random stranger so close to the red light district without either some form of potent protection or a scheme guaranteed to assure safety.

“It isn’t much, but would you like some energon? I am sure it isn’t exactly what a mech of your station is used to, but it's something to keep you going. The trip to upper Iacon is a long one from what I hear.” He held out his ration to the smaller mech, hoping that it would perhaps calm his spark’s nervous spin. Usually being charitable eased him a degree, giving him a sense of purpose. However as the smaller mech watched him, observing him with a simple smile and accepting the cube, Optronix still felt nothing but protoform rattling uncertainty.

He wanted to leave. He had to leave. And yet his frame would not let him. The mech just kept staring at him, and something told him that trying to run wouldn’t end well for him. The further they went, the more it felt as though Optronix were wading into a minefield. Every step was a gamble, and Optronix could feel his tanks churn with greater unease the closer they came to the train station.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.” The smaller mech smiled with denta just a bit too sharp to be normal as he accepted the cube and took a polite sip. Optronix walked faster.

This was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he needed to finish helping the mech and leave immediately. Whatever was going on behind the scenes was not meant for him.

“Uh, what’s your name by the way?” His vocalizer felt heavy, the glyphs slurring as he tried to speak. He could see the train station in the distance, and never more did he wish he could run. Still, he needed to be polite. He was probably just on edge. The mech he was walking with was likely lost and uncertain. He needed to put his paranoia away, keep it together, and save up to see a medic. Ariel told him about stories where mecha went mad from the fumes.

“You may call me Head Archivist Pax. I ended up down here while searching for my Conjunx.” Optronix almost tripped over his own pedes. Maybe that’s why he was so unsettled. Such a high caste mech down in the lower levels… Optronix was asking to be wrapped up into something or killed in some political garbage.

He bit his lower derma and tried to focus his attention on the growing shades that came from the light of the nearest star receding. Perhaps his fear was from the darkness, he’d never been fond of the dark after Gears vanished into the lower levels never to be seen again. That had to be his reason for being so shaky, it couldn’t have been the Head Archivist. For Primus’s sake, Pax had done exactly nothing and Optronix’s behavior was likely going to scare him.

Optronix tried to vent as he approached the station with his companion. There was no going back now.

“It is an honor to meet someone as high up on the chain as you Head Archivist. I hope you find your way home safely!” Optronix stepped into the train station, bowing slightly as he’d seen mecha do on TV as he waited for the Head Archivist to leave. Pax regarded him simply and smiled, his now empty energon cube calmly placed in the recycling.

“You have been very courteous. Might I have your information? I wish to reward you for your kindness.” Pax smiled, and Optronix felt the very air draw in tight around him like a cage as he straightened. Panic rose in his very base coding and before he could stop himself, he reached to extend a commlink invitation to offer his identification and stop the sheer terror sinking into his protoform..

“Of course! I would be honored-” Optronix lurched forward, his servos instinctually coming to grasp his helm as his processors pounded. His body ached in a way he couldn’t describe and his spark panged in loss. The air was heavy and laced with static, so much so that when Optronix had the will to try and stand upright again, he could only take one step back before he fell to his knees shaking.

“This is the one you have chosen? He seems fidgety.” Opronix found coolant gathering in his optics as primal fear settled into his fuel lines. A towering mech, one he distantly recognized as the Champion of Kaon, stood at Pax’s side. He seemed normal, but his presence was oppressive and Optronix was a klik away from purging what little fuel he had in tanks. Where Pax evidently made everything seem wrong on a fundamental level, this mech, Megatronus of Kaon… he made Optronix feel small, unwelcome, and like a thief on land he did not own.

“He is more than sufficient, my love. He has given me what I needed, and I know for a fact that he will perform perfectly in his role. His mind is strong, he is simply a little overwhelmed right now.” Pax dropped to a knee and promptly ran his digits along the edges of Optronix’s face. He wanted to recoil, but those optics stared so intently into him that he could feel them everywhere. Pax saw everything, all that he was and ever would be. There was no escape.

“Bind him to you, beloved. He must be prepared for the gifts we are to give.” Optronix tried to move, but as Pax stood and he remained on his knees, he found he couldn’t. Megatronus towered over him, eclipsing any chance of escape as he uttered a simple phrase.

“May I have your oath of allegiance?” The gladiator’s presence destroyed everything else. The world was collapsing in on itself. Light warped and was eradicated by the unstoppable titan before him. The scenery shifted into an all encompassing void only filled with the presence of whatever in the pits Megatronus was. Impending doom settled in his spark, and all Optronix could do was shake.

There was no escape. He was lost in this void. His voice was nothing amidst the emptiness.

“You are exerting too much influence, my Champion. Look at him, he can’t even vent.” The sound of the train pulling into the station and Pax’s voice broke through the void. Color and form returned to reality, and Optronix collapsed entirely as he gasped, his fans spinning wildly as he found himself desperately trying to cool his heated frame. He shook like a sheet of tin in a storm as he stared up in horror as the beings before him.

They weren’t Cybertronian, they couldn't be. There was no way normal mecha could do whatever they had just done.

“Optronix, it would be in your best interest to give your oath. You may not survive what is to come otherwise.” Pax smiled at him with all the faux innocence of a scrapper gazing down at his prey. Optronix wanted to cry. Dion was right. He’d been too kind and now he’d gotten wrapped up into whatever this was.

His vocalizer felt like lead in his throat as Optronix weighed his options and enjoyed the brief reprieve from the oppressive force that was the Champion of the Pits. He still shook as he pulled himself to one knee, instinct guiding his actions as he spoke. It was as if another spoke on his behalf and gave him words he otherwise had no clue how to say.

“I give my loyalty to the Lord of the Court of Fae. My allegiance to the Court shall endure until death or I am released from my bonds. Forever shall I come when summoned.” His spark screamed as fire raged throughout his frame. Optronix could only manage a strangled cry as he collapsed again, a brand seemingly being burned into his very spark.

“Very good. You’ve done well. Now, we must not miss our train. The night is young and there is much to be done.” Pax grinned, his smile growing far wider than it should have been capable of. Megatronus for his part huffed and dragged Optronix by the arm, planting him on his pedes as though he weighed nothing.

“I call upon you who is bound to me. Answer my summons and follow me.” Megatronus’s words drowned out all else, and before Optronix could so much as scream, one direct goal quieted his will. He quickly found himself walking behind the duo at a brisk yet seemingly comfortable pace. His plating flared, his optics were wide, and his field pulsed erratically off and on. Yet no matter how much he willed himself to move, to run in any other direction… his frame failed to obey him.

They entered the train and Optronix was quickly ordered to sit next to Megatronus on one of the many dilapidated seats. The trains in the lower levels were held together by tape and a prayer more often than not. However it seemed that fact did not bother the two beings beside him as the train rolled out of the station. They sat comfortably, and it seemed as though the train itself molded to their preferences. It shouldn’t have been possible, but colors ran along the walls where they shouldn’t have been. Metal warped and shone before returning to its usual state. The windows showed the outside one moment, and a horrifying void the next.

He looked firmly at his pedes, desperate to keep himself calm as he ran through the situation in his mind.

These were fair folk. There was no other explanation. The fair folk were the only ones capable of stealing intangible things and altering reality like it was dough. There were all sorts of stories around the docks about them. Always third party retellings and things heard in passing. Still, as the train chugged along and the ground shifted colors, Optronix searched his memory for anything of use.

“He’s done nothing but stare at the ground. Are you sure he was a good pick? He can’t be strong enough for what we need him to accomplish.” Megatronus spoke with disdain evident in his voice. Optronix stole a brief glance up at the fairy in momentary anger, but he quickly found himself regretting that choice.

The mech, or rather the fairy, was no longer as he looked prior to entering the train. He hadn’t changed much physically, but he seemed larger, darker, his plating sharper and his optics so much more intense. It made Optronix’s tanks churn even harder than they already were. It was enough for shooting pain to assault his insides and remind him of a possible escape.

Dion said once that fairies couldn’t enter homes. As dock workers, they didn’t really have that. More often than not, home was wherever a mech happened to be at the time. If Optronix could possibly find a way to separate himself and his space from the fair folk, he could possibly claim it as his. Sure, it was a limited and very short term solution, but it was better than whatever the fair folk had planned. He’d heard more than enough stories about mecha being devoured and returning to docks altered, strange, and misshapen.

“He is perfect for the role I will delegate to him. He carries the correct bloodline and his CNA mimics my own. He merely requires cultivation.” Orion’s silky voice filled the train in a way that shouldn't have been possible, almost as though it were coming from everywhere at once. He didn’t want to look, he couldn’t afford to look as he raised a servo to his intake and bit down, silencing a groan of pain as the fair folk conversed.

“Are you trying to become Ratchet now? Only his kind cultivate the prototypes.” Energon welled from the damaged plating of his left servo. Optronix kept his optics firmly on the comforting glow. It was the only thing on the train that wasn’t changing aside from himself. It was grounding, it was… a warding agent.

“Nonsense my dear Champion. The lower beings do not require or deserve my direct attention. This one is a unique case.” As quietly as he could, Optronix began to drag his digit along the outline of his frame. The energon from the wound was thick and created a firm line cutting him off from the terrifying creature sitting mere feet away. Just a few more lines, just a few more…

“You say that, but with how many schemes you’ve been developing, it would not surprise me if you brought more of the prototypes into our domain within the vorn.” His frame ached and his servo screamed as he raised it to his intake and bit again, forcing more energon to flow from the deeper wound. He reached toward the ground, acting as though he were attempting to curl up in fear as he dragged his damaged digit along the grimy ground. His vocalizer burned as grime entered the wound, but he paid it no mind.

The fair folk would not have him.

“T-This is my domain, created in my energon and filled by my presence. I order the fair folk away. They shall not enter.” He found strength as he sat up, his optics cycling in uncertainty as he uttered the familiar phrase. The train fell silent, and for a brief moment, Optronix wanted to have hope. Maybe they would leave. Maybe he could find someone to break their bindings and he could go back to living a normal life-

“How very adorable. He thinks we are of the lesser Courts.” Icy terror filled his fuel lines and Optronix gripped his knees so tightly that he drew more energon from his injured servo. No, it had to have worked, it had to have worked. This couldn’t be possible.

“Foolish little prototype. You already belong to us.” Those same servos came to run along the edges of his face, forcing him to look up. Optronix wished he could die right then and there as a mass of limbs and optics met him. That smile breached the confines of the face that held it and still Pax’s voice rang out clear and composed. Not a sound was uttered as the fairy pulled away, its form shifting back into what Optronix knew before it sat back down.

“At least he made an attempt.” Megatronus huffed, only serving to turn fear into rage. He was no sparkling, he was a grown mech and a citizen of Cybertron. If he was to die, he would do so on his own terms and with honor.

“My love.” Pax’s voice came out in a low trill as Optronix made a rash decision. The trains were torn half to pieces, metal jutted out from just about everywhere, and there was a more than acceptable metal pipe clinging to the wall of the train by a single screw. He broke it free without hesitation and swung with all the strength in his frame-

-Only for the pipe to phase straight through Megatronus without so much as scratching him.

“He has some spine after all! Look at that! A prototype trying to fight against and Archfae! Starscream will find this amusing.” Megatronus laughed, a deep and dark chuckle that had Optronix crying before he knew it. Coolant gathered in his optics and despair set in like the plague as he came to a sickening realization.

There was no escape. These things had control over reality, and he had fallen into their web the moment he agreed to walk Pax to the train station.

“I told you he was the correct choice. When will you stop doubting me when it comes to these things?” Pax laughed as well, a light comfortable sound that would have soothed any other mech as the train at last came to a stop. Optronix didn’t even try to fight as he was ordered to follow behind the fair folk that had bought his spark without him knowing.

Night covered the world in a deep gloom, but it did little to lessen the terror that reawakened as the Hall of Records came into view. It was a place of great knowledge, but the elder dock workers always said that knowledge came at a price. The news always had at least one missing person to report in the archives every other vorn at minimum.

It made sense now. If the fair folk were taking him there, it meant that quite likely, other unfortunate sparks like himself had met their ends there too.

Dion was right. Why couldn’t he have just been an aft and told Pax to shove off?

“Sire, I request that my guest be granted access to your domain.” Pax stepped inside the building and the lights flickered. A deep rumbling groan came from the very walls and Optronix wished for nothing more than to flee as Megatronus ordered him to enter behind him. He complied even as wires slipped through cracks in the very ground, caressing Pax’s legs and raising threateningly for Megatronus and Optronix.

“Alpha Trion, as your ordained heir and as an Archfae, you will grant my guest and my Conjunx access to your domain. Megatronus is an extension of myself, and soon my guest shall be too. Cease this waste of time.” Pax shifted again and Optronix looked away while doing his best to refrain from crying as the wires pulled away, retreating back into their hiding places.

So the fair folk had family drama too. Dark amusement, likely edging on insanity, threatened to emerge in the form of a laugh as Optronix followed his fair folk masters deeper into the nightmarish structure. After the train, the archives weren’t quite so bad. The walls shifted, bookshelves moved around, and the lights forever flickered and increased and decreased in brightness. At least there wasn’t a void to devour all hope right outside the window.

“Drink this.” He was jolted from his thoughts as he was forced to a stop in an open location. The bookshelves had been left behind several kliks ago, and now all that remained was an oval room with a table and a pool of what looked to be energon in the center. He was going to be eaten wasn’t he? Why else would there be what looked like an examination table right next to a pool of energon. His imagination provided him with a plethora of grotesque images of him being drained or possibly picked to pieces as a cube of an undeniable origin was pressed into his servos.

It looked like energon, but he didn’t have time to question as the fair folk stared him down until he got every last drop of it into his tanks. It seemed like energon too based on the taste, but it left him feeling tingly and his systems bursting with energy it really shouldn’t have had. Maybe high caste energon just did stuff like that.

“Get into the pool.” The order came quickly, and Optronix complied. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

“Stay put.” The second order was more of an afterthought it seemed. As Optronix lowered himself into the pool of energon, he felt strangely at ease. His cables relaxed, his mind started to slow, and pains he didn’t even know he had all melted away in less than a klik. Before he knew it, he had dropped flat onto his back, all thoughts of escape vanquished. If he died this comfortably, he couldn’t exactly complain. It was better than a slow torturous death, that much was certain.

“Don’t be stingy. Give me your arm! I need as much energon as I can get!” Pax’s voice distantly filtered through the hum that settled into Optronix’s processors. He didn’t seem upset but rather annoyed. Optronix for his part didn’t bother to linger on the thought as he gazed up at the ceiling, watching wires descend and scoop up a mech from a balcony a ways off. The mech screamed as they were dragged into the walls which closed with a sickening crunch.

It explained a lot of missing person reports.

“No, keep it steady. If the composition is off, the procedure could fail in spectacular fashion.” There was Pax saying something again. Optronix wanted to sigh. Could he not be quiet? It was so peaceful…

“He’s drugged out of his mind.” Megatronus laughed and stepped closer, his Conjunx right at his side. Optronix hummed but did not move as Pax entered the pool and stared down at him with a wide smile that would have otherwise had Optronix fearing for his life.

“Good. He won’t feel the CNA override.” That sounded vaguely concerning.

“Optronix, don’t you worry sweet thing. When you wake up again, you will be born anew. Your name has already been selected.” There was a hint of feral glee in the Head Archivist’s tone. Optronix didn’t even have the strength to hum as recharge hung heavy on his mind. He wanted to rest.

“Drink up. That’s right, just like that.” A vial of something was pressed to his intake, and with some coaxing, the foul tasting concoction made its way to his tanks. He gagged as his frame began to go numb, but he wasn’t concerned.

“When will he be ready to be trained?” Megatronus questioned calmly as he gazed down at where Optronix suddenly found himself paralyzed in the pool. He couldn’t feel anything, and yet he wasn’t afraid. By Primus, some of his fellows would give an arm and a leg for whatever drug he was high on.

“Not for quite some time. He needs to grow first.” Grow? He was fully grown.

“What? Shouldn’t he be ready within a few deca-cycles? His frame is fully developed, surely it can’t take that long to heal-” Megatronus trailed off as Optronix lifted his servo, watching in grim fascination as plating turned to goo and fell off his very protoform. He hardly had the strength to do even that as he fought against the calm that overcame him. And just as quickly as he raised his servo, it fell back down with a wet plop.

He didn’t need to look to sense that the rest of his body was falling apart. His optics were starting to flicker…

“It has begun. Soon we will have our little sprite.” The last thing Optronix saw was Pax’s smile which, for once, was gentle and kind.

Then the darkness claimed him, and he knew no more.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #megatron #orion pax #alternate universe #pre war cybertron #megaop #orion and op are separate people yall #i like them being different #whims of the fae au #new au to add to my ever increasing pile #yaaaaaaay #fanfiction

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 2 years

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Anarchist Book Club Presents:

David Graeber's Debt: The First 5000 Years

Introduction

What follows are a series of brief reflections (part of a much broader work in progress) on debt, credit, and virtual money: topics that are, obviously, of rather pressing concern for many at the current time.

There seems little doubt that history, widely rumored to have come to an end a few years ago, has gone into overdrive of late, and is in the process of spitting us into a new political and economic landscape whose contours no one understands. Everyone agrees something has just ended but no one is quite sure what. Neoliberalism? Postmodernism? American hegemony? The rule of finance capital? Capitalism itself (unlikely for the time being)? It’s even more difficult to predict what’s about to be thrown at us, let alone what shape the forces of resistance to it are likely to take. Some new form of green capitalism? Knowledge Keynesianism? Chinese-style industrial authoritarianism? ‘Progressive’ imperialism?

At moments of transformation, one of the few things one can say for certain is that we don’t really know how much our own actions can affect the outcome, but we would be very foolish to assume that they cannot.

Historical action tends to be narrative in form. In order to be able to make an intervention in history (arguably, in order to act decisively in any circumstances), one has to be able to cast oneself in some sort of story — though, speaking as someone who has actually had the opportunity to be in the middle of one or two world historical events, I can also attest that one in that situation is almost never quite certain what sort of drama it really is, since there are usually several alternatives battling it out, and that the question is not entirely resolved until everything is over (and never completely resolved even then). But I think there’s something that comes before even that. When one is first trying to assess a historical situation, having no real idea where one stands, trying to place oneself in a much larger stream of history so as to be able to start to think about what the problem even is, then usually it’s less a matter of placing oneself in a story than of figuring out the larger rhythmic structure, the ebb and flow of historical movements. Is what is happening around me the result of a generational political realignment, a movement of capitalism’s boom or bust cycle, the beginning or result of a new wave of struggles, the inevitable unfolding of a Kondratieff B curve? Or is it all these things? How do all these rhythms weave in and out of each other? Is there one core rhythm pushing the others along? How do they sit inside one another, syncopate, concatenate, harmonise, clash?

Let me briefly lay out what might be at stake here. I’ll focus here on cycles of capitalism, secondarily on war. This is because I don’t like capitalism and think that it’s rapidly destroying the planet, and that if we are going to survive as a species, we’re really going to have to come up with something else. I also don’t like war, both for all the obvious reasons, but also, because it strikes me as one of the main ways capitalism has managed to perpetuate itself. So in picking through possible theories of historical cycles, this is what I have had primarily in mind. Even here there are any number of possibilities. Here are a few:

Are we seeing an alternation between periods of peace and massive global warfare? In the late 19th century, for example, war between major industrial powers seemed to be a thing of the past, and this was accompanied by vast growth of both trade, and revolutionary internationalism (of broadly anarchist inspiration). 1914 marked a kind of reaction, a shift to 70 years mainly concerned with fighting, or planning for, world wars. The moment the Cold War ended, the pattern of the 1890s seemed to be repeating itself, and the reaction was predictable.

Or could one look at brief cycles — sub-cycles perhaps? This is particularly clear in the US, where one can see a continual alternation, since WWII, between periods of relative peace and democratic mobilisation immediately followed by a ratcheting up of international conflict: the civil rights movement followed by Vietnam, for example; the anti-nuclear movement of the ’70s followed by Reagan’s proxy wars and abandonment of détente; the global justice movement followed by the War on Terror.

Or should we be looking at financialisation? Are we dealing with Fernand Braudel or Giovanni Arrighi’s alternation between hegemonic powers (Genoa/ Venice, Holland, England, USA), which start as centers for commercial and industrial capital, later turn into centers of finance capital, and then collapse?

If so, then the question is of shifting hegemonies to East Asia, and whether (as Wallerstein for instance has recently been predicting) the US will gradually shift into the role of military enforcer for East Asian capital, provoking a realignment between Russia and the EU. Or, in fact, if all bets are off because the whole system is about to shift since, as Wallerstein also suggests, we are entering into an even more profound, 500-year cycle shift in the nature of the world-system itself?

Are we dealing with a global movement, as some autonomists (for example, the Midnight Notes collective) propose, of waves of popular struggle, as capitalism reaches a point of saturation and collapse — a crisis of inclusion as it were?

According to this version, the period from 1945 to perhaps 1975 was marked by a tacit deal with elements of the North Atlantic male working class, who were offered guaranteed good jobs and social security in exchange for political loyalty. The problem for capital was that more and more people demanded in on the deal: people in the Third World, excluded minorities in the North, and, finally, women. At this point the system broke, the oil shock and recession of the ’70s became a way of declaring that all deals were off: such groups could have political rights but these would no longer have any economic consequences.

Then, the argument goes, a new cycle began in which workers tried — or were encouraged — to buy into capitalism itself, whether in the form of micro-credit, stock options, mortgage refinancing, or 401ks. It’s this movement that seems to have hit its limit now, since, contrary to much heady rhetoric, capitalism is not and can never be a democratic system that provides equal opportunities to everyone, and the moment there’s a serious attempt to include the bulk of the population even in one country (the US) into the deal, the whole thing collapses into energy crisis and global recession all over again.

None of these are necessarily mutually exclusive but they have very different strategic implications. Much rests on which factor one happens to decide is the driving force: the internal dynamics of capitalism, the rise and fall of empires, the challenge of popular resistance? But when it comes to reading the rhythms in this way, the current moment still throws up unusual difficulties. There is a widespread sense that we are heading towards some kind of fundamental rupture, that old rhythms can no longer be counted on to repeat themselves, that we might be entering a new sort of time. Wallerstein says so much explicitly: if everything were going the way it generally has tended to go, for the last 500 years, East Asia would emerge as the new center of capitalist dominance. Problem is we may be coming to the end of a 500 year cycle and moving into a world that works on entirely different principles (subtext: capitalism itself may be coming to an end). In which case, who knows? Similarly, cycles of militarism cannot continue in the same form in a world where major military powers are capable of extinguishing all life on earth, with all-out war between them therefore impossible. Then there’s the factor of imminent ecological catastrophe.

One could make the argument, of course, that history is such that we always feel we’re at the edge of something. It’s always a crisis, there’s no particular reason to assume that this time it’s true. Historically, it has been a peculiar feature of capitalism that it seems to feel the need to constantly throw up spectres of its own demise. For most of the 19th century, and well into the 20th, most capitalists operated under the very strong suspicion that they might shortly end up hanging from trees — or, if they weren’t going to be strung up in an apocalyptic Socialist Revolution, witness some similar apocalyptic collapse into degenerate barbarism. One of the most disturbing features of capitalism, in fact, is not just that it constantly generates apocalyptic fantasies, but that it actually produces the physical means to make apocalyptic fantasies come true. For example, in the ’50s, once the destruction of capitalism from within could no longer be plausibly imagined, along came the spectre of nuclear war. In this case, the bombs were quite real. And once the prospect of anyone using those bombs (at least in such numbers as to destroy the planet) became increasingly implausible, with the end of the Cold War, we were suddenly greeted by the prospect of global warming.

It would be interesting to reflect at length on capitalism and its time horizons: what is it about this economic system that it seems to want to wipe out the prospect of its own eternity? On the one hand, capitalism being based on a logic of perpetual growth, one might argue that it is, by definition, not eternal, and can only recognise itself as such. But at other times those who embrace capitalism seem to want to think of it as having been around forever, or at least 5 thousand years, and stubbornly insist it will continue to exist 5 thousand years into the future. At yet other times it seems like a historical blip, an insanely powerful engine of accumulation that exploded around 1500, or maybe 1750, which couldn’t possibly be maintained without some sort of apocalyptic collapse. Perhaps the apparent tangle of contradictions is the result of a need to balance the short term perspectives needed by short term profit-seekers, managers, and CEOs, with the broader strategic perspectives of those actually running the system, which are of necessity more political. The result is a clash of narratives. Or maybe it’s the fact that whenever capitalism does see itself as eternal, it tends to lead to a spiraling of debt. Actually, the relations between debt bubbles and apocalypse are complicated and would be difficult (though fascinating) to disentangle, but I would suggest this much. The financialisation of capital has lead to a situation where something like 97 to 98 percent of the money in the total ‘economy’ of wealthy countries like the US or UK is debt. That is to say, it is money whose value rests not on something that actually exists in the present (bauxite, sculptures, peaches, software), but something that might exist at some point in the future. ‘Abstract’ money is not an idea, it’s a promise — a promise of something concrete that will exist at some time in the future, future profits extracted from future resources, future labour of miners, artists, fruit-pickers, web designers, not yet born. At the point where the imaginary future economy is 50 to 100 times larger than the current ‘real’ one, something has got to give. But the bursting of bubbles often leaves no future to imagine at all, except of catastrophe, because the creation of bubbles is made possible by the destruction of any ability to imagine alternative futures. It’s only once one cannot imagine that we are moving towards any sort of new future society, that the world will never be fundamentally different, that there’s nothing left to imagine but more and more future money.

It might be interesting, as I say, to try to disentangle the shifting historical relations between war, the development of ‘security’ apparatuses designed above all to strangle dreams of alternative futures, speculative bubbles, class struggle, and history of the capitalist Future, which seems to veer back and forth between utopia and cataclysm. These are not, however, precisely the questions that I’m asking here. I want, rather, to look at questions of debt from a different, and much longer term, historical perspective. Doing so provides a picture much less bleak and depressing than one might think, since the history of debt is not only a history of slavery, oppression, and bitter social struggles — which, of course, it certainly is, since debt is surely the most effective means ever created for taking relations that are founded on violence and oppression and making them seem right and moral to all concerned — but also of credit, honour, trust, and mutual commitment. Debt has been for the last 5 thousand years the fulcrum not only of forms of oppression but of popular struggle. Debt crises are periodic and become the stuff of uprisings, mobilisations and revolutions, but also, as a result, reflections on what human beings actually do owe each other, on the moral basis of human society, and on the nature of time, labour, value, creativity and violence.

https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/david-graeber-debt-the-first-five-thousand-years

#literature #book club #anarchist #david graeber #debt: the first 5000 years

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traditional-with-a-twist · 7 months

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lviii. Beauty and Her Beast

<<Previous || first arc || second arc || third arc || AO3 || Next>>

After the spectacular victory at sea, Tanbarun had commenced a systematic purging of the Claw’s associates.

This had proved difficult.

Headless, the limbs scattered — vanishing into hideaways and boltholes, melting back into the anonymity of the underworld.

For every pirate the soldiers captured, two more evaded them.

...

The smugglers’ elusiveness frustrated justice, but it posed at worst a tepid threat. The sea witch had masterminded the vilest of their evils; she alone sported the fangs of the operation.

Umihebi had carved blood and misery across the seas.

She had built an empire, trading in flesh. She had defied the might of the royal navy and the merchant marine, digging her nest so deeply that its tendrils extended all throughout the land before she was rooted out at last.

By trapping her, the joint forces of Prince Raj and Prince Zen had lifted a scourge from the kingdom, freed it from a menace that stalked its borders and devoured its children.

They had laid to rest a malignant enemy.

Without her venom, the thugs at her command might snap at the heels of Tanbarunian society, but they would not imperil civil order or the health of the body politic.

Now Umihebi walked free again.

...

Word of the danger spread quickly.

News, rumors, began circulating. The countryside felt the shivers of realignment as people followed.

The more unsavory characters wound towards the source of disturbance, drawn like buzzards by the promise of blood. Whispers followed in their wake, warning of a force gathering — a hatred building.

Safety was west.

Obi went east.

...

He had left something behind him in that bedroom with Torou. He no longer sought distraction.

No more would he search for a way to forget or suppress the memories, as if he could find a cure for his regrets. This was no malady plaguing him, no medical condition. He was not ill — he was guilty of a crime.

He stopped visiting towns and taverns after that — stopped looking for ways to drown or stifle thoughts of her.

...

His mind roamed more wildly than his feet, vacillating confusedly from remorse to accusation. Where had he gone wrong — leaving? Staying? Asking her to be him? Discarding her and the home they had built together?

Every decision seemed suspect; entirely contrary choices struck him as equally wrong-headed, equally inimical to everything good.

How had he dared to presume he could care for her — how had he dared to abandon her?

...

Obi knew no rest, in soul or body.

He had always been a light and fitful sleeper, prone to snatching cat naps on window sills, sofas, beds that belonged to someone else — but now he knew not when he slept.

He would come to himself in a wood somewhere, unconscious of whether he had dreamed or only sunk into a reverie.

Other travelers passed him by, perhaps unaware of his presence, perhaps drawing back as instinctively as animals shied from the dangerous of their kind — scenting death in the walking wounded.

...

He felt marked, a wanderer like Cain, cursed by his own transgressions — but he had lived on the wrong side of the law for many years.

This time a chasm had opened, between himself and the rest of humanity, such as he had never known in all his years in the underworld.

It would be easy enough to let the world grind him to nothing, as it had always tried in any case, but there was something to do first — one thing he had left to take care of.

...

Obi followed that undefined sense of incompleteness to a rough town near the border — “town” being a generous term.

It was one of those the places of buying and selling sprung up in conjunction with the crossing patrolled by their neighbors to the east.

Here, one might change money, change papers, change your identity even — and buy a drink, of course.

...

No such shadow town would be complete without a place for men to wet their throats, but this hub in particular did a brisk business in reallocating confiscated liquor.

The eastern empire did not smile on spirits, as many an ill-informed merchant discovered to his chagrin.

Sometimes a finely aged brew would find its way to the dusty tables.

Other times, Obi thought, as he watched the bartender fill his glass, it might as well have been ditchwater.

...

He sat back and surveyed the room, his mind assessing, appraising each party.

Many drank alone, but a band was gathering against one wall.

They drifted in by ones and twos, ostensibly occupied with a game of darts, but Obi noted few heads turned in direction of the play and little interest in its progress.

The men were more occupied with consulting, murmuring to each other in low voices while their eyes flitted from face to face.

...

He downed his glass.

It tasted worse than it looked, but this mattered nothing to Obi.

Perhaps his body had reached its limits at last — perhaps there was a point beyond which a man could feel no more.

Obi rose.

He was about to find out.

...

He strolled up to the dart game like a blind, deaf dog robbed of its scent faculties — oblivious, in short, to every sign thrown out to signal his unwelcome.

The men glowered, shifted together, closed ranks against him.

A fellow with an eye patch, stationed at the group’s periphery to head off interlopers, gave him a look that was downright mean.

Obi sauntered past, headed straight for the thick of their band.

All their low murmuring ceased.

...

A few watched him coldly; others fingered the weapons at their belts.

One lifted a short, heavy-handled knife. With a grunt, he sent it spinning through the air to bury itself in the black ring surrounding the dart board’s bullseye.

A moment later, Obi’s leaf blade joined it — dead center.

Now he had their attention.

...

'Do you know how it is when they punish a thief?' His knife blade dances between his fingers. 'It is different in every country.

‘In the south, they charge a fine. In the north, they lock you up.

‘Go east, and they cut off a hand.'

The blade spins through the air; he catches it with his fingertips. 'But no one has invented a punishment for my crime.'

...

“Listen, you miserable whelp,” growled a hook-nosed man, eyes burning beneath the low brim of his hat. “Do you have any idea who you’re jabbering at?”

The corners of Obi’s mouth curled up.

He raised his hand, three fingers bent in, and pawed the air in an unmistakable slash — the kind he had found carved into a tree, a lifetime ago in Tanbarun.

Obi cocked his head, holding their gaze. “Meow?”

...

A heavy hand descended on Obi’s shoulder.

It was the man with the eye patch, and his fingers gripped like steel.

“That’s a nice story you’ve got there,” he said softly, leaning in close to fix Obi with his good eye. “I know somebody who’d like to hear you tell it.”

#Akagami no Shirayukihime #obiyuki #Beauty and Her Beast #PurePassion #danger danger

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mariacallous · 2 years

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On one of the last days of June 1914, a telegram arrived in a remote garrison town on the border of the Habsburg Empire. The telegram consisted of a single sentence printed in capital letters: “HEIR TO THE THRONE RUMORED ASSASSINATED IN SARAJEVO.” In a moment of disbelief, one of the emperor’s officers, Count Lajos Batthyany, inexplicably began speaking in his native Hungarian to his compatriots about the death of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the heir and a man who had been perceived as partial to the Slavs. Lt. Josip Jelacich von Buzim, a Slovene who felt uneasy about Hungarians—especially because of their suspected disloyalty to the throne—insisted that the conversation be held in the more customary German. “Then I will say it in German,” the count assented. “We are in agreement, my countrymen and I: We can be glad the bastard is gone.”

This was the end of the multiethnic Habsburg Empire—at least the way Joseph Roth captured it in his magisterial novel Radetzky March. And the Habsburg experience has often been replicated in the European Union. Unity has usually been the first casualty of crises in Europe. During the Iraq War, the euro crisis, and the refugee crisis, for example, the EU quickly fragmented into different camps and countries.

And Russian President Vladimir Putin had good reasons to imagine that the same would happen the day his army invaded Ukraine. The war was an existential threat for Ukraine’s neighbors, such as Poland or Estonia, but a faraway conflict for Portuguese or Spaniards. Europe’s energy dependence on Russia made a confrontation with Moscow a high-cost exercise in a moment when European societies experienced hard economic times. And, in any case, Europeans can have common dreams, but their nightmares are strictly national. The rise of anti-German sentiments in the early weeks of the war was a glimpse of what the scenario from hell could have looked like.

But one year into the conflict, we can see that the Kremlin’s expectations were wrong. A recent survey by the European Council on Foreign Relations shows that, against expectations, European publics’ views on the war have converged rather than diverged. Compared with May last year, the proposition that the war between Russia and Ukraine should end as soon as possible, even if that means Ukraine losing part of its territory to Russia, is no longer that popular among Europeans. The opposite idea—that Ukraine should regain all its territory, even if that means a longer conflict—currently prevails in Europe on average, and in 5 out of 10 countries that we have polled, including France. Europeans also report an improved perception of European and American power—while many see Russia as weaker than they had previously thought.

The reasons for the increased support for Kyiv probably diverge from country to country, but at least four factors are of particular importance. Putin’s strategy of mass destruction has morally outraged most Europeans. Ukrainian military victories in the summer and autumn of last year have convinced many that Kyiv can win the war. A warm winter and European governments’ successful handling of the energy crisis have increased the sense that the EU is stronger than many believed. And U.S. President Joe Biden’s determination to do what it takes not to allow Russia to win is another critical factor for the new European position on the war.

But the war has also brought about a less recognized but critically important political realignment in the domestic politics of many European countries. To put it bluntly: The war reconciled many European nationalists to the idea of a stronger and more united EU, while at the same time forcing many pro-European liberals to discover the mobilizing power of anti-imperial nationalism.

Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni and her party Brothers of Italy are the most powerful representatives of the first trend. Until very recently, the Italian far right viewed Brussels as the biggest threat to Italy’s sovereignty and identity. They flirted with leaving the euro and even the entire European Union. But today, they see Brussels as a valuable ally in defending Italian sovereignty from superpowers such as China and Russia and borderless threats such as COVID-19.

On the other side of the political spectrum, the most pro-European, cosmopolitan, and liberal forces in Europe have been inspired by Ukraine’s struggle for survival and are rethinking their positions on the idea of nationalism and military spending. Looking at the breakdowns of party members shows an incredible convergence of nationalists and liberals on how they see the war. The percentage of supporters of liberal French President Emmanuel Macron who believe that only a Ukrainian victory can bring lasting peace in Europe is identical to the percentage of supporters of the right-wing Law and Justice party in Poland who believe the same. At the same time, the German Greens, the party that most embodied the country’s pacifist tradition, are not far behind LREM and PiS.

And most interestingly, the strongest supporters of the Ukrainian struggle are the bureaucrats in Brussels. Confronted with Putin’s aggression, European Commission President Ursula von Der Leyen embraced the Ukrainian struggle for survival as her own. She was the person who pushed to use European funds to buy weapons for Ukraine. And she advocated for Ukraine to be given an EU membership perspective. This is maybe the ultimate act of political fusion—marrying the ethno-nationalist militarism of Kyiv’s fight for survival with the post-national, legal processes of the EU. If Kyiv’s 2013-14 Maidan demonstrations sought legitimacy by flying European flags, now European capitals are finding a new sense of purpose and legitimacy by draping themselves in Ukrainian flags. Anti-nationalist Brussels has suddenly been mesmerized by the power of civic nationalism. In their worship of the Ukrainian leader, European liberals have broken with playwright Bertolt Brecht’s post-nationalist dictum, “Unhappy the land that is in need of heroes.”

It is fair to admit that the reconciliation between liberals and nationalists was visible already in the time of the COVID-19 pandemic, when liberals did not hesitate to close borders while nationalists in power realized that managing the pandemic meant taking care of all those who happened to be within the borders of their states regardless of where there were born. But it was Polish nationalists welcoming millions of Ukrainians that probably more than anything else forced both left and right to adjust their views for the age of Putin.

But while the European unity achieved in this last year in remarkable, it cannot be taken for granted. It could be eroded by the reversal of any of the trends that have brought Europeans together: a successful Russian military counter-offensive, or the rising costs of living and hosting refugees (now the dominant fears in Italy, Germany, and France).

The biggest threat to the new marriage of nationalists and cosmopolitans comes from outside the EU, however. Ironically, it has less to do with Moscow than with Washington. One of the major effects of the war has been to expose Europe’s dependence on the United States’ security umbrella. But while the confrontation with China looks like a bipartisan issue in the United States, the risk of a U.S. foreign policy split over Russia is real. Former U.S. President Donald Trump tends to see Putin’s war in Europe as Biden’s war. His readiness to sacrifice Ukraine could cause a major change not just in the way that Europeans see the future of the war, but even in how they see the future of the EU.

If Trump successfully becomes the leader of an anti-war party, we could see a rapid reverse in the foreign policy convergence of European liberals and nationalists. European unity survived Russia’s military, but can it withstand America’s politics?

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daily-media · 8 months

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RJD, Congress In Huddle Amid Talks Of Nitish Kumar's Switch

Nitish Kumar will likely take oath as Bihar Chief Minister again tomorrow, a record ninth time, supported by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) - mirroring a familiar script from the 2020 elections. The political churn has triggered a flurry of activities, with large-scale transfers of officers adding to the suspense. Reports of an imminent change in government are rife, casting a shadow over the current 'Mahagathbandhan' ruling coalition.

The BJP has convened a meeting of its MPs and MLAs today, ostensibly to strategise for the upcoming Lok Sabha polls. State unit chief Samrat Choudhary downplayed speculations of a renewed alliance with Nitish Kumar, but BJP leaders dropped significant hints about behind-the-scenes discussions.

According to sources, Nitish Kumar has convened a session of the legislative party tomorrow. Sources have said that extensive relocations of district magistrates are underway in Bihar, coinciding with rumors of an imminent shift in the government.

Amid this political upheaval, Congress, Nitish Kumar's Janata Dal (United)'s partner in the opposition INDIA bloc, has also called a meeting in Purnea, while denying any connection to the evolving political scenario. The Congress plans to discuss preparations for Rahul Gandhi's 'Bharat Jodo Nyay Yatra,' set to enter Bihar on Monday, with public meetings scheduled in Kishanganj, Purnea, and Katihar.

While the immediate focus appears to be on the Lok Sabha elections, sources indicate that the Bihar Assembly won't be dissolved just yet. Both the BJP and JD(U) are engaging with their respective MPs and MLAs to solidify their strategies, setting the stage for a comprehensive realignment in Bihar's political landscape.

However, the return of Nitish Kumar to the BJP-led National Democratic Alliance (NDA) is not without its complexities. Sources have told NDTV that the intricate game plan includes the nomination of an Assembly Speaker and a cabinet reshuffle.

Former Chief Minister Jitan Ram Manjhi and his Hindustan Awam Morcha are also players in this political chessboard, courted by the BJP to secure a strategic alliance.

Nitish Kumar's political journey, once synonymous with stability and development, has become a tale of flip-flops and realignments. From the acclaimed 'Sushashan Babu' to the enigmatic "Paltu Kumar," his trajectory reflects the evolving dynamics of Bihar's politics.

#Bihar Politics #nitish kumar #JDU BJP Alliance

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Getting Bored - part 3 - ao3 - tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Perhaps it was merely the competent coordinator in him, but Jin Guangyao truly appreciated clever schemes working out exactly as planned, even if he was the one being schemed against.

It didn’t count when it was a matter of chance, like Nie Mingjue finding him in the middle of committing a murder – that was his own fault for not paying better attention, not planning better, and to a certain degree simply his bad luck – but rather, when there was a deliberate effort to set up the circumstances in such a way as to leave an enemy with no retreat and no way out but to react exactly as you wish…

Beautiful.

Annoying, of course, when it interfered with his own plans. But a pleasure to observe nonetheless.

Sadly, his father did not take such things as calmly as he did.

By this point, Jin Guangyao was able to repress his flinch at the sound of something expensive breaking as it was thrown against the wall.

“Motherless bastard, son of a whore!” Jin Guangshan hissed, and it was only the fact that he was glaring out the window of the inn they were staying at in Yiling that let Jin Guangyao conclude that he was not referring to himself. “How dare he pull a thing like his – and at Yiling, no less? The sheer gall of it –”

The gall, Jin Guangyao presumed, was in outwitting Jin Guangshan and outdoing the Jin sect at their own game. It had to be that, because in all other respects it was a masterful stroke: the Yiling Patriarch implicitly realigning himself with the Jiang sect by acting in the role of Jiang Cheng’s shixiong in hosting the announcement of the marriage between Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng, the Nie sect’s agreement with that location representing their endorsement of Wei Wuxian’s return to the cultivation world and the end of the ostracization the Jin sect had worked so hard to accomplish, while the marriage itself represented the formation of an iron-solid alliance between the Nie and Jiang sects that in a single stroke rendered the Jin-Jiang marriage alliance null – since after all, Jiang Cheng would be bound to put his husband’s requests above those of what, in the end, was merely a married-out sister.

(The fact that Jiang Cheng adored his sister unreasonably and wasn’t the sort to listen to husbandly authority was irrelevant. Jin Guangyao might be smart enough to use that, but Jin Guangshan wasn’t.)

Or perhaps what truly galled Jin Guangshan was how, while they had all been absorbing the implications of the news they had received along with the invitation, Jin Zixuan had loudly – and publicly – exclaimed that it was wonderful, joyous news and that he wished Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue a long and happy life together.

Obviously, that would have had to be the public response regardless, but there were ways of saying it and there were ways of saying it. Jin Zixuan’s exclamation hadn’t allowed for any nuance or implication or rumor-mongering, nothing that they could have done to salvage the situation and try to use it as another way to strengthen their sect by weakening the others.

They could have implied that this union in fact represented Nie Mingjue’s hot-headed impulsiveness, even irrationality, hinted at unspoken but well-known things about Nie Mingjue’s longevity and mental state – suggested that Jiang Cheng was trying to take advantage of those things, marrying himself off for a political benefit while only counting a few years in cost…but it was no point in thinking of those things now.

Now, thanks to Jin Zixuan, the only thing they could do was come to this little inn in Yiling and grit their teeth and smile, their lips full of well-wishes they didn’t mean in the slightest.

Moreover, while Jin Guangshan saw the entire thing as little more than an exercise in frustration in his proper heir, who he believed to be too noble and chivalrous to think of the implications before he spoke, Jin Guangyao had seen the faint smile on Jin Zixuan’s face right before he’d spoken, and the expression on his face upon hearing the news hadn’t been surprise.

He’d known, and judging by the pleased but not shocked expression on Mistress Jiang’s face, the source of his knowledge was clear. Jin Zixuan had known, and he’d spoken deliberately; he’d locked his sect into expressing only joy at the union, undermining all their plans, and he’d done it on purpose.

Jin Guangyao was dying to know how Nie Mingjue had arranged that.

Because he had, of course. Jin Guangyao had immediately quizzed his contacts at the Lotus Pier, and they all confirmed that the marriage wasn’t anything as pedestrian as a mere love match – Nie Mingjue had explicitly proposed on the basis of mutual benefit for their sects, and Jiang Cheng had accepted on those self-same grounds. He had even announced it to his sect in that fashion, explaining some of the benefits he believed the arrangements would bring to the Lotus Pier and assuring them that he would never forsake their interests even as he planned to spend at least one month in every three at Qinghe.

If it had been a love match, Jin Guangyao wouldn’t have been that impressed. It didn’t take a genius to fall in love and luck out into a political move that shook the world, especially since Nie Mingjue’s luck had always been irritatingly good, but to deliberately plan and execute such a move – not only the alliance itself, but to also use the arrangement as an excuse to get the Yiling Patriarch and all his tricks and toys onto the side of the Nie sect when days before he had been an enemy to all the world – to use Wei Wuxian in turn to obtain instant approval from the Lan sect, given Lan Wangji’s inexplicable fondness for the man and Lan Xichen’s desire to please his brother – to even use Jiang Cheng’s connection to Jin Zixuan to undermine the Jin sect’s ability to fight back – to do it all at once –

Beautiful. Truly beautiful.

He hadn’t thought Nie Mingjue had it in him, to be honest.

All that talk about honor and doing the right thing and all that – he’d long assumed that it was mere naïveté, the mind of a child in the body of a man trying to play at politics, that Nie Mingjue was a blunt instrument good only for war. In such circumstances, especially with what happened between them in the past, it was only reasonable for Jin Guangyao to break with him fully and support his father instead.

But now that he knew that Nie Mingjue was actually capable of such a clever ploy…

Jin Guangyao watched without expression as his father continued to break his own things in his impotent anger, like a toddler having a tantrum that wouldn’t change anyone’s decisions one bit.

Perhaps it was time to start reconsidering which horse he was backing in this race.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t expected Wei Wuxian to have such a passion for planning his wedding, although in retrospect he really should have. After all, they’d always schemed together as children about the sort of wonderful grandiose wedding they were going to ensure that Jiang Yanli would have, and yet when the time came it had not been possible to include Wei Wuxian in the actual wedding planning or even execution.

He was clearly getting his feelings out about all of that by insisting on micromanaging every possible aspect of this wedding.

Since Jiang Cheng didn’t actually have the patience or interest to argue with the merchants regarding the exact shade of the streamers to be used to decorate the Lotus Pier, he was happy to let Wei Wuxian run wild with it.

He’d worried a little a first – Wei Wuxian was still the Yiling Patriarch, after all, feared and loathed by all – but bizarrely enough everyone seemed to be taking his return to the cultivation world in stride, as if they’d all collectively forgotten that they’d forced Jiang Cheng to expel him from the Jiang sect less than a year before. He’d even heard some of the smaller sect leaders arguing that as adherents to the Jiang sect, they ought to get first access when Wei Wuxian started selling genuine versions of some of his new inventions.

On the basis of Wei Wuxian’s close connection to the sect that had raised him, no less!

Maybe it was only that it was very hard to be afraid of man shouting about how the mandarin ducks in Jiang Cheng’s wedding robes had to be sewn in proper gold thread, none of this half-assed yellow business, didn’t they know that Jiang Cheng had a complexion that would be faded out by yellow?

Still, with that worry settled, Jiang Cheng had very happily allowed Wei Wuxian to use his wedding as a means of reintroducing himself to the cultivation world and settling back into something vaguely resembling his original role as Jiang Cheng’s shixiong – no longer part of the same sect, unfortunately, not the Twin Heroes he’d hoped for when he was younger, but so much better than the unthinkable alternative that he wasn’t angry, only grateful.

Of course, there were some aspects of the wedding preparation that Wei Wuxian couldn’t help with.

Jiang Cheng’s face burned as he looked down at the books on his desk, both the ones he’d already reviewed and the (much larger) pile of books still to go, as well as the study guide he’d been writing for himself on the side. He’d had to steel his spine and ask Nie Huaisang for them, but luckily Nie Huaisang – who was enjoying spectating the wedding planning, since what he was doing couldn’t really be considered helping – had been, as always, a reliable source for such things.

Such…pictures.

Jiang Cheng was getting married, after all, and it wasn’t as though he’d had the mechanics of how cutsleeves did things explained to him during that extremely awkward conversation in his early teens about how babies were made. That talk had been traumatizing enough that he’d properly refrained from doing anything at all with anyone, much less another man, and as a result he had to try to figure things out from the beginning.

It was possible that Nie Mingjue was more educated in such matters than he, and would be able to act as a guide for him, but the idea of making some sort of amateur mistake made Jiang Cheng’s skin crawl. He wasn’t the genius Wei Wuxian was, confident in getting everything right the first time he tried no matter how unprepared he was.

Studying up in advance was the only solution.

Even if it did make his face hot and his breath come too fast and require occasional breaks from the work to go walk around the Lotus Pier until his heart rate came down to something more normal.

(Jiang Cheng secretly suspected that he didn’t feel desire the way other people did – he’d never looked at a person and gone oh yes I like the look of that the way it usually got described, never granted anyone more favors because they were pretty, never felt like he was missing out on something by not having someone in his bed – but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy getting off. In theory, having someone to assist with that would be even better, and he...didn’t know what to do with that.)

Gritting his teeth, Jiang Cheng picked up another book. Not pictures this time, he noted to his relief, although he’d found that some of the narrative texts managed to be even filthier than the explicit images, all implication and suggestion and no wrong faces to get in the way of him imagining himself in that position.

This book, though, started pretty slow. It was well-written, taking the time to flesh out the characters and actually throw in a bit of plot to keep the background from being too boring, though of course the focus remained on the two main characters getting closer together – which they did slowly and cautiously, rather than jumping straight into bed together the way it was in most such books. There was a lot more emphasis on kissing and on their general reticence and growing familiarity around each other, perfectly reasonable given that the characters weren’t that close to each other to start with.

It was a nice change, obviously much more applicable to the situation that he and Nie Mingjue were in than in some of the other books where there was nothing but smut, and Jiang Cheng found himself reading it quite avidly, wanting to find out what happened next, and it wasn’t until he was nearly three-quarters of the way through and the first spring scene had actually cut out before describing the actual contents of the relevant activity that he abruptly realized that the stupid book wasn’t pornography at all, but a romance.

He scowled at the book, which was good enough to finish anyway but still, what a waste of time! Why had Nie Huaisang put this in with the rest of them?

After all, Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue weren’t in a romance – this was a political arrangement, not a love-match. It was all hard-nosed logical decision-making, cost-benefit analysis. Emotions didn’t play a role in it at all, and that was just how Jiang Cheng wanted it, given the mess emotions had made of his parents’ marriage.

Sure, Jiang Cheng enjoyed Nie Mingjue’s company. He found the man interesting and engaging, and enjoyed being around him regardless of whether they were actively doing something or merely sitting in a comfortable shared silence.

Sure, kissing him made Jiang Cheng’s heart race and his face go red, while embracing him made him feel warm. The thought of going to bed with him filled Jiang Cheng with anticipation rather than revulsion – he still didn’t look at Nie Mingjue and break him down into pieces, thinking nice legs or good ass or anything like that, but he thought he could enjoy touching him and being touched in return, and imagining it with him was far more interesting than imagining it with anyone else.

And, yes, sure, it was a bit like that character in the book had put it, that being with him was better than being without him, and being without him felt lonely as it never had before –

…wait.

Wait.

Oh, shit.

“So, I think I might have messed something up,” Jiang Cheng said, bursting into the room that set aside to be Nie Mingjue’s office during the time he would spend at the Lotus Pier, since with it being one month out of three there was bound to be days when they had to deal with confidential sect business that the other couldn’t be involved in. He looked as if he had run the entire way.

Nie Mingjue pushed his papers away. “Is someone dead or imminently dying? Are we going to war?”

Jiang Cheng paused and frowned, distracted from his panic. “No, it’s not that sort of problem.”

“Then there’s time left to fix it,” Nie Mingjue said. Death was irreversible, war was catastrophic, everything else was negotiable – or stab-able. The Nie sect was a very practical sect. “Sit down and tell me what happened from the beginning.”

Jiang Cheng looked relieved at receiving clear instructions, something Nie Mingjue had noticed from early on – it seemed to help his anxiety to know that there was someone keeping their head. Ironically enough, Jiang Cheng himself was excellent at keeping his own head in front of the sort of injustice that sent Nie Mingjue out of his mind with rage; he immediately defaulted to planning on what to do, which in turn calmed Nie Mingjue down.

They were really a very good match, he thought to himself, pleased; it was just as he’d suspected – or, perhaps more accurately, hoped.

Jiang Cheng sat down. “Okay,” he said. “Right. I messed up –”

“Non-fatally.”

“…yes, non-fatally. But I still did mess up, and it involves you.”

Nie Mingjue arched his eyebrows.

“I understand that our marriage is an arrangement designed to better both our sects,” Jiang Cheng said. He was now staring fixedly at the wall a little over Nie Mingjue’s head. “But I appear to have developed…feelings.”

Nie Mingjue managed not to flinch, primarily out of years of practice of attending truly gruesomely awful discussion conferences.

That was a disappointment, especially as things had seemed to be going so well. It had always been a risk, he supposed, and one he knew to prepare himself for, although it did come as something of a surprise – especially this late in the process. Nie Mingjue hadn’t seen anyone around Jiang Cheng that he thought might be a likely person for it.

“For whom?” he asked, remaining calm. If the person was inaccessible, or someone who might be joined into the marriage, then the deal was still salvageable – certainly his father hadn’t complained – but if this was a sticking point…

Jiang Cheng blinked at him owlishly. “What? What do you mean for who? For you, obviously!”

Now it was Nie Mingjue’s turn to blink. His heart turned over in his chest, abruptly twisting the sting of disappointment into the pleasure of a nice surprise, but mostly what he felt was confusion.

“Okay,” he said, scowling a little, “what’s the problem, then?”

Jiang Cheng looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “That is the problem! It’s one thing entirely to make an agreeable business decision with someone you like well enough, friends can do anything, but it’s not exactly the sort of feeling you get for friends.”

“We’re…going to be married, though?”

“Yes! Exactly! Feelings in a marriage lead to jealousy, jealousy leads to stupid irrational behavior, which leads to resentment, which poisons the entire relationship –”

“A-Cheng,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling as though he might be allowed. “Marriages are supposed to cultivate feelings.”

Jiang Cheng frowned.

“Not everyone is your parents. Most people, in fact. You reach an agreement with someone you respect, you marry, you put in the work necessary to turn that respect into feelings you can use to base a lifetime together on – what do you think all that practice we’ve been doing is the foundation for?”

“But…”

“Jealousy doesn’t necessarily lead to resentment,” Nie Mingjue explained. “As long as the feelings are reciprocated, a little jealousy can be – not a problem.”

Sometimes very much not a problem, not that Nie Mingjue personally suffered from that taste.

(He was not going to explain the details of his own parents’ relationship, however useful an example it might be in this context. If Jiang Cheng wanted an explanation of how people could end up eroticizing jealousy and sexual possessiveness to the point that watching their beloved implicitly reject them in favor of another went from being distressing to exciting, he could ask Nie Huaisang about it.)

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng said, and looked relieved.

He wasn’t the only one.

“How did this come up, anyway?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“Oh, I was reading a book,” Jiang Cheng said, and for some reason he flushed a little. “It depicted a romance that reminded me of how you and I interact, and my feelings on the subject, and, well…”

“What book?”

Jiang Cheng pulled the book out of his sleeve – it was one of Nie Huaisang’s favorite romance novels, Nie Mingjue could identify it on sight based on how many times he’d seen his brother flipping through it and sighing – and tried to offer it over, only when he did another book that had somehow gotten stuck up to the back of the first one fell down to the floor, landing on its spine and falling open.

The page it fell open to was illustrated. Vividly.

There was a moment in which they both stared down at it.

Nie Mingjue pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, and Jiang Cheng turned beet red and leapt to his feet and started stammering something about making a study guide to avoid embarrassing himself and not to pay any attention to it and anyway it was all Nie Huaisang’s fault – Nie Mingjue believed that one immediately – and anyway the only reason it’d fallen to that particular page was because he was convinced that it wasn’t even possible –

“No, that one’s possible,” Nie Mingjue said, standing up as well. “You just need support – look, see, if I lift you up against the wall like this –”

He demonstrated.

“– and you put your legs like so, it all works out just fine. Entirely plausible.”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth was slightly agape, his breath coming a bit quickly; his cheeks were still a lovely shade of pink, and Nie Mingjue could tell fairly easily that Jiang Cheng’s attempted explanation about the reason he had been lingering on that particular page was a lie.

“Oh,” he said, “and I like you, too. Just so you know.”

Jiang Cheng smiled.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #getting bored #mingcheng

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fallout4holmes · 3 years

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Nuka-World 6

We had a visitor the next morning. Mags Black left her two cronies at the base of the artificial mountain as she took the lift up herself. I don't know what she said to Gage to get him to stay put on the ground, but he wasn't happy about it.

Holmes had just finished his morning cigarette and a minimal breakfast. He stood as she stepped off the lift, "Ah. Ms. Black."

The raider boss raised an eyebrow, "Miz? It's like you're trying to stand out. You're the Overboss now, Mister Holmes, you get to be on a first name basis with everyone."

Holmes lit another cigarette and said with exaggerated politeness, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Mags smirked, "You can blame it on giving the Disciples The Galactic Zone. I don't know what you're planning, but I want my people to come out on top at the end."

"At the moment, avoiding the animosity of an amusement park full of raiders is my primary concern."

"Bullshit," she said pleasantly. "You're the General of the Minutemen, the frozen vault-dweller that destroyed the Institute. I heard about your almost-war with the Brotherhood too, how you kicked them out of the Commonwealth after destroying their toys." She gestured to me, “Most of the raiders in Nuka-World are from west of here, where the Institute never had a presence. They think your friend is just a nifty robot bodyguard. Creepy, but nothing more. Those of us from the Commonwealth though?” She smiled, sinister, “We know exactly what he is. William and I know better than most. You never did find that janitor that went missing, did you Nick? What was her name, Amelia?”

“Annette,” I corrected, tried not to rise to the bait. “Not usually a fan of kicking folks out beyond the Wall, but in the case of you and your brother I’m glad Diamond City did.”

“Funnily enough, so are we. This suits us much better.” She said it smoothly, nothing but charm, but you don’t last long in my line of work if you can’t tell a bluff when you see one. She turned her attention back to Holmes, “Either your rumored nobility is all an act to get you into a place of power, or you’re going to throw a wrench into the fragile gears of this place. If it turns out to be the first one, you may want to consider showing my people a bit of favor before ugly rumors of synths and interfering Minutemen start circulating the park. If it’s the second one, well. Just know that every Operator in this park is watching.”

Holmes glowered, “I don’t respond well to threats.”

“As long as you respond,” Mags said, and took the lift back down.

As soon as she was down, Gage came up. "Mags pissed?"

"A touch upset," Holmes offered me a cigarette, which I took. "I was a little surprised she remembered you, Valentine."

"Guess it's hard to forget a face like this," I said dryly.

"What the hell are you two goin' on about?" Gage sighed.

"Nothing important," Holmes said, "just the Operators being unhappy with me. They can have the next park, it doesn't matter."

"Giving 'em the next park might look like you were intimidated," Gage said.

"What is the next park?" Holmes asked.

"Figured we'd hit Dry Rock Gulch."

"Hm, the American 'Old West' theme. A fake gold mining operation should suit the Operators, don't you think, Valentine?"

I chuckled, "I think the implication is gonna go over their heads, but we might as well check it out and get it over with."

Holmes agreed and we headed off. We made it to the park’s gate when I heard something moving through the earth, sort of like the sound a mole rat makes just before it leaps out and bites you. Only these weren’t mole rats.

A handful of big red worms with mouths that took up the whole head attacked, surprising the hell out of me and Holmes and earning an annoyed growl from Gage. They weren’t much of a fight, but, “Well that was unpleasant,” I said.

“You never seen bloodworms before?” Gage asked, skeptical.

I shook my head, “We don't get these things back east.”

“Better get used to ‘em, they’re a fucking menace around here.”

Hopefully we wouldn’t be staying long enough for me to get used to them, but I kept that to myself. I glanced around as we entered the park, the Old West frontier outpost aesthetic turned kitsch.

“How’s it go,” Gage sarcastically drawled, “This town ain’t big enough for you and me… ah, never mind.”

Holmes chuckled. “Let’s ask the local law enforcement for information,” he pointed to a protectron wearing a sheriff’s hat.

“Hope y'all are having a good day here at Nuka-World. Ready to saddle up and ride into the old wild west?” the protectron said.

“Great,” Gage grumbled, “More dumb robots.”

The protectron was unperturbed, ��I'm the sheriff of these parts, and I need your help getting rid of those no good outlaws holed up in Mad Mulligan's Mine!”

“This is why I hate robots,” Gage huffed. “They don’t even know the world ended, this playtime shit is annoying.”

The protectron’s park personality programming stopped, “Processing: Hostile visitor. Ignore and continue explanation for the sake of the other guests.”

I laughed.

The sheriff continued his job, “The door to Mad Mulligan's Mine is locked up. I got a spare key in a safe by the theater, but wouldn't you know, I plum forgot what the combination to the safe was! You'll need to talk to my three amigos: Doc Phosphate, One-Eyed Ike, and the Giddyup Kid. Prove to them you're tough enough to take on the outlaws, and they'll give you their part of the combination. Good luck, little doggie! And don't forget your complimentary deputy uniform, courtesy of Nuka-Cola!”

The sheriff handed Holmes a costume, who promptly handed it to Gage, who scowled before realizing, “You got a weird ass sense of humor, boss,” and tossed it away. As we walked he asked, “We really gotta do all that, talk to three other robots just to get a key?”

“I suppose we could simply hang a banner and be done with the place,” Holmes said.

Gage shook his head, “Not with the bloodworms. Gotta torch the nest first, otherwise whoever moves in is gonna be pissed to hell you gave ‘em an infested base.”

Holmes made casual eye contact with me. He’d been hoping for a raider-bloodworm showdown.

“I mean,” Gage was still talking, “why do we need this fucking key in the first place? Can’t we just blast the door open?”

“I try not to do anything rash if I can avoid it,” Holmes said, “and surely you don’t think we’ll be bested by a few challenges designed for children?”

“I’m starting to second-guess making you Overboss,” Gage grumbled.

“Perhaps you should have considered that possibility before enthroning a stranger you know precious little about, against his will,” Holmes steely replied.

“I can deal with an ass of a boss,” Gage played it cool, “as long as he gets done what needs to get done.”

We did the tasks for the park protectrons, fighting bloodworms, overgrown crickets, and giant ants along the way. Once we had the key, we headed for Mad Mulligan's Mine… a roller-coaster.

Gage had kept pretty quiet til then, "People actually stood in line and waited for this crap?" He scoffed, "Bunch of suckers."

"Roller-coasters were a popular attraction,” I commented flatly, “though I can’t say I ever saw the appeal.”

Holmes gestured for quiet as we headed into the ride. The lobby held a souvenir shop and the entrance to the tunnels that would lead folks to the boarding area, decorated to look like you’re walking through a mine out of a Saturday morning western. Back then it probably lacked the dead bodies, of course. Holmes and I had heard rumors of traders who hid from Colter’s raiders in Dry Rock Gulch. We found ‘em. Bloodworms saw to it they didn’t have long to enjoy their freedom.

The boarding area was a massive pit littered with brahmin corpses, bulging with bloodworm larvae. In the middle of the pit was the massive queen herself.

“I believe we’ve found the nest,” Holmes said.

“No shit, boss,” Gage scoffed.

“Valentine and I will take care of the queen, you exterminate everything hiding in those brahmin.”

Gage nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”

I might be getting too old for fighting overgrown monsters in caves… but every time I think that, I know it’s not really true. Or it is, and I’m too stubborn to admit it. Anyway, we got the job done but the queen did a number on my leg. At least we know that Nuka-Town’s got a competent mechanic. I could walk, which is saying something, just going to have a limp until whatever got whacked out of place could get realigned. Gage was going to make a remark, but wisely shut up when Holmes glared at him.

We let the Sheriff know the job was done, got paid, which was a nice surprise, and Holmes climbed up to the top of the theater to hoist a flag with a black heart in a bullseye, bleeding gold.

“Gave in to the Operators after all, huh?” Gage said once Holmes was back on the ground. He didn’t sound accusatory, which was kind of weird, just like he was making conversation. Which was also kind of weird.

“If I have to secure Mags Black’s silence with a token gesture,” Holmes said, “then so be it.”

Gage shrugged, “Just let ‘em know you’re the Overboss, not some do-good General.”

“Gage, you conned me into this mess for the purpose of bringing the gangs together, yes? How does strutting around threatening violence serve that purpose?”

“Because we’re raiders?? That’s the language these idiots speak. You gotta treat ‘em right, but make sure they know you can end them at any time.”

Holmes made a considering sound and headed out of the park, “I often thought that if raiders could ever organize, they would be a force to be reckoned with. It seems I was right.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Gage exclaimed, relieved as if Holmes had finally come around. He didn’t know that every time the topic came up, it was followed with a list of possible ways the Minutemen would eliminate that threat.

Unfortunately, none of the hypothetical scenarios ever involved the General and his partner effectively being held hostage, with no way to call for help.

#fallout4holmes #fallout 4 #nuka world #nick valentine #sherlock holmes #fan fiction #catching up on past posts

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townpostin · 28 days

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Champai Soren's “New Chapter with BJP” Likely Soon

Former Jharkhand CM in capital for talks; decision expected within days Champai Soren’s Delhi visit sparks rumors of potential BJP alliance, with a decision anticipated soon. RANCHI – Former Jharkhand CM Champai Soren’s Delhi trip ignites speculation about joining BJP, decision expected in coming days. Champai Soren, former Chief Minister of Jharkhand, has once again found himself at the center…

#Amit Shah talks #राज्य #Bablu Soren ticket demand #BJP alliance rumors #Champai Soren #Delhi visit speculation #Himanta Biswa Sarma #Jharkhand assembly elections #Jharkhand Politics #political realignment #potential chief minister candidate #state

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sportsminorityreport · 2 years

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What can the now “New Pac-10″ do to solidify their financial future? (part 1)

The PAC-12 took a brutal gut punch with the loss of their two most alluring media assets, The University of Southern California and the University of California Los Angeles.

Let’s be clear. The now 10 member Pac-12 is far more likely to stick together than to bleed members to other conferences.

The Big Ten has announced that they have no intention of adding more members from the Pac-12. The SEC and ACC are too far away.

The only other FBS conference that is potentially a peer is the Big 12. One could maybe imagine Utah jumping to the Big 12 under political pressure from the LDS church, but it likely would not make much financial sense.

The PAC will be negotiating a new media deal over the next couple years. The Big 12 will do so shortly thereafter. It seems pretty likely that the PAC schools will adopt a wait and see approach before deciding if the Big 12 works better for them.

The PAC is a collection of state flagship universities and second schools all with strong statewide followings in states with a combined population of roughly 63M people.

The Big 12 is a more hodgepodge collection of private schools. secondary and tertiary schools. They are in a footprint with a combined population of 76M, but most of their schools with true statewide followings are in small population states.

Would it make sense to leave a conference with a good travel footprint and a good deal more prestige for at best, similar money? One would think this would not be appealing enough for any PAC schools outside of potentially Utah.

Arizona and Arizona State were rumored to have entertained the idea of moving to the Big 12 a few years back. Allegedly, UT used that to convince the Big 12 not to add Houston, Cincinnati, UCF, and BYU. But that was a Big 12 with the media jewels of the University of Texas and the University of Oklahoma.

The Big 12 today is just as gutted as the Pac. It is difficult to imagine the Arizona schools or Colorado chomping at the bit to join the Big 12, but some realignment decisions are more about who you leave behind.

That, to me, is the big concern for the Pac. They have the better assets, but if they are perceived to fall short in securing acceptable value they could bleed inland members, but again, it is likely not to happen until those schools see the payouts they are scheduled to receive.

Staying the course

There are no schools the PAC can add to “replace” the value of the lost LA schools. This may have the PAC members looking to stay at 10 members.

I think that fairly likely scenario would be a mistake.

That PAC still has the problems that have dogged their media negotiations for the last 30 years. A game that starts at 7 Pm in the pacific timezone starts at 10 PM in the eastern time zone. The majority of the nation isn’t going to watch it, making their media offerings less valuable.

The PAC’s 30 year dream of adding the University of Texas was about how such an addition would impact their media offerings.

Conferences with networks get paid a higher rate when they have a school in that state. The Pac can claim 63M residents in their footprint at the higher rate currently. Adding a highly desirable media asset like UT would have added another 30M counted residents to that total.

And if the PAC decided to sell content in a more traditional method to TV networks, adding Texas or really any central time zone schools would open the door to the PAC offering earlier games that could compete head to head with the offerings of eastern conferences like the SEC, Big Ten, and ACC.

There are only about 77 Million people in the pacific and Mountain time zones. There are roughly 100M people in the central time zone.

Adding strong football and basketball programs in the central timezone would allow the PAC to put up competitive early content for viewers in all timezones.

They cannot do that today.

And that will be a problem if they stay at 10 and try to negotiate a new TV deal.

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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How Many Seats Did The Republicans Get In The Senate

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/how-many-seats-did-the-republicans-get-in-the-senate/

How Many Seats Did The Republicans Get In The Senate

How Is Senate Majority Chosen

Democrats take House, Republicans keep Senate in historic midterms

The Senate Republican and Democratic floor leaders are elected by the members of their party in the Senate at the beginning of each Congress. Depending on which party is in power, one serves as majority leader and the other as minority leader. The leaders serve as spokespersons for their partys positions on issues.

Democrats Lose Senate Seat In Alabama

Democratic Senator Doug Jones has lost his race in Alabama, CBS News projects. Jones’ loss is expected, but it means the Democrats need another seat to take back control of the Senate. Democrats have picked up one seat so far, in Colorado.;

Many consider Jones’ tenure as a senator from ruby-red Alabama to be a fluke. He won the seat in a 2017 special election to fill the vacancy left by Jeff Sessions, who became Mr. Trump’s first attorney general. Jones narrowly defeated Republican candidate Roy Moore, who faced multiple allegations of sexual misconduct with underage girls. This year, Jones was less fortunate with his opponent. He was defeated by Tommy Tuberville, the well-known, beloved former coach of the Auburn University football team.;

Meanwhile, CBS News projects Republican Senator John Cornyn won his reelection race in Texas, defeating Democrat MJ Hegar.

What Is The Difference Between Republicans And Democrats

Republicans and Democrats are the two main and historically the largest political parties in the US and, after every election, hold the majority seats in the House of Representatives and the Senate as well as the highest number of Governors. Though both the parties mean well for the US citizens, they have distinct differences that manifest in their comments, decisions, and history. These differences are mainly ideological, political, social, and economic paths to making the US successful and the world a better place for all. Differences between the two parties that are covered in this article rely on the majority position though individual politicians may have varied preferences.

Don’t Miss: Democrats And Republicans Switched Platforms

Annual Congressional Competitiveness Report 2020

Ballotpedia’s Annual Congressional Competitiveness report for 2020 includes information on the number of elections featuring candidates from both major parties, the number of open seats, and more.

HIGHLIGHTS

More U.S. House races were contested by members of both major parties than in any general election since at least 1920, with 95.4% of races featuring major party competition.

Of the U.S. Representatives and U.S. Senators who were eligible to run for re-election in 2018, 55 of them did not appear on the general election ballot in 2020.

In the 53 open seats where an incumbent either did not seek re-election or was defeated in a primary, there were 13 races where the incumbent’s district overlapped at least one pivot county in 2008 and 2012, before switching to support President Donald Trump in 2016).

In 20 races, only one major party candidate appeared on the general election ballot, the lowest number compared to the preceding decade.

Iowa Montana And South Carolina

Though Iowa, Montana and South Carolina are all traditionally right-leaning, polls had shown tight Senate races in those states, and the Cook Political Report had rated each a tossup. But come Election Day, Republicans easily won each race.

In Iowa, Senator Joni Ernst, the Republican incumbent, dispatched Theresa Greenfield, her Democratic challenger, by 6.6 percentage points. In Montana, Senator Steve Daines, the Republican incumbent, won by more than 10 percentage points against Steve Bullock, Montanas two-term Democratic governor.

And in South Carolina, Senator Lindsey Graham, a Republican and the chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, survived a challenge by Jaime Harrison, a former chairman of the states Democratic Party, winning by 10.3 percentage points.

Read Also: Who Is Richer Democrats Or Republicans

Democrats May Have Control At The Federal Level But Republicans Are Pushing Back Through States

30 state legislatures are now controlled by Republicans, while only 18 are controlled by Democrats.

Though the hotly anticipated Blue Wave did not sweep over the country as thoroughly as some analysts had predicted in the weeks and months leading up to the American election on November 3, 2020, theres no denying that Democrats notched major victories in both the Senate and the White House, despite losing several seats in the House of Representatives.

But that victory is beginning to be undercut by the majority of state legislatures, which are Republican-controlled, as they begin to enact stricter voting laws, pass state sovereignty bills and push through highly conservative legislation to push back against Democratic ideologies in Washington.

Map: Republicans To Have Full Control Of 23 States Democrats 15

In 2021, Republicans will have full control of the legislative and executive branch in 23 states.;Democrats will have full control of the legislative and executive branch in 15 states.

Population of the 24 fully R-controlled states:;134,035,267Population of the 15 fully D-controlled states: 120,326,393

Republicans have full control of the legislative branch in 30 states. Democrats have full control of the legislative branch in 18;states.

Population of the 30 fully R-controlled legislature states: 185,164,412Population of the 18 fully D-controlled legislature states: 133,888,565

This week, Andrew Cuomos star went down in flames. While the smoke clears, lets take a moment to sit back and reminisce about the governors long history with ethical and legal violations.

Cuomos controversies regarding sexual harassment and nursing homes deaths were far from his first abuses of power. In fact, his administration has a long history of it, ranging from interfering with ethics commissions, to financial corruption.

In July 2013, Cuomo formed the Moreland Commission to investigate corruption in New Yorks government. At first it was a success, giving Cuomo good PR. Yet as it went on there were rumors that, contrary to his claim that Anything they want to look at they can look at, Cuomo was interfering with the Commissions investigations. There was friction within the Commission, itself with two factions forming: Team Independence and Team We-Have-a-Boss.

Read Also: We Are All Republicansâwe Are All Federalists

Impact Of Special Elections On Partisan Composition

The partisan breakdown for the special elections was as follows:

In districts where the incumbent legislator does not run for re-election, the seat is guaranteed to a newcomer.

85.1% of incumbents sought re-election, the highest percentage in a decade.

14.9% of incumbents did not run for re-election, meaning newcomers were guaranteed to win those seats.

394 Democratic state legislators did not seek re-election.

477 Republican state legislators did not seek re-election.

Six third party or independent state legislators did not seek re-election.

Click on the table header below for complete, state-by-state information on open seats and guaranteed newcomers.

Open state legislative seats, 2020 State

See also: 2020 primary election competitiveness in state and federal government

As the charts below show, there were 1,135 fewer primary candidates in 2020 than in 2018, reaching levels similar to 2016 and 2014. 2020 saw the lowest number of open seats, meaning more incumbents seeking re-election, compared to the previous three even-year elections. The number of incumbents facing primaries was roughly similar to 2016 and 2014, but less than 2018. There were fewer total primaries in 2020 compared to 2018 and 2016, but more than there were in 2014.

To read more about the competitiveness of state legislative primary elections in 2020, .

Congress Has Far More Democratic Than Republican Women Thats Not Likely To Change

The Republican Party’s Pathway to 60 Senate Seats

The 2020 elections more than doubled the number of Republican women in the U.S. House, from 13 to 31, and increased the number of Republican women in state legislatures. The increase was so notable that CBS News called 2020 the Year of the Republican women.

But those increases are still marginal compared with the numbers and percentages of Democratic women in the House, Senate and state legislatures and remain precarious. House Republicans removed their colleague Rep. Liz Cheney from her leadership position in May, and a Republican woman lost to a Republican man in a recent special runoff election for a congressional seat in Texas featuring from an earlier contest. Whats more, Republicans recently did not rebuke former president Donald Trumps about a qualified GOP female candidate for the U.S. Senate.

Why is there such a yawning gap between the gender composition of the two parties elected officials? Neither Trump nor a single bad election cycle caused that gender gap, my research finds. Rather, over the past half-century, ideological, regional and racial realignments within the two major parties have helped Democratic women run and win while throwing up barriers for Republican women.

How wide is the gender gap between the two parties?

A similar gender gap divides the parties in state legislatures: About half of Democratic lawmakers and under a fifth of Republicans are female.

Barriers to electing GOP women in the South

Read Also: Did Trump Say He Loves The Poorly Educated

Who Are The Winners And Losers

Maine Democrats had high hopes of unseating Susan Collins, the 67-year-old moderate Republican who had been trailing her Democrat rival in the polls for months.

But Sara Gideon, 48, conceded in a call to Ms Collins on Wednesday afternoon.

So far, Democrats have managed a net gain of one seat in the Senate election.

Democratic former governor John Hickenlooper won a key Colorado seat from the Republican incumbent Cory Gardner.

Mr Hickenlooper, who stood for the Democratic nomination for president, was governor of Colorado for two terms from 2011 until last year. His rival was considered particularly vulnerable because of his allegiance to President Trump.

In Arizona, former astronaut Mark Kelly defeated Republican incumbent and former fighter pilot Martha McSally. Mr Kelly earlier said he was “confident that when the votes are counted, we’re going to be successful in this mission”.

However, Republican Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell and Trump ally Lindsey Graham have both been re-elected in their seats of Kentucky and South Carolina respectively.

And in Alabama, Republican candidate Tommy Tuberville took a seat from the Democratic incumbent Doug Jones.

Seats Without Major Party Opposition

See also: Major party candidates with major party competition in the November 2020 state legislative elections

In 2020, 2,067 state legislative seats, 35.2% of all seats up for election, did not have major party competition. When a candidate from only one of either the Democratic or Republican parties runs for a state legislative seat, the seat is all but guaranteed to be won by that party.

Democrats contested 82.7% of all state legislative seats. 1,019 state legislative seats did not feature a Democratic candidate and were likely to be won by a Republican.

Republicans contested 82.4% of all state legislative seats. 1,032 seats did not feature a Republican candidate and were likely to be won by a Democrat.

In 11 states, more than half of all seats did not have major party competition.

In four states, more than 90% of all candidates had major party competition.

The five states with the most major party competition in the general election were:

The five states with the least major party competition in the general election were:

Click on the table below to see details of seats up for election without major party competition in each state.

Seats without major party competition, 2020 State

See also: Annual State Legislative Competitiveness Report: Vol. 8, 2018

During even years, state legislative elections have had an average of 6,039 seats up for election. Of those seats, an average of 1,134 have been open, meaning an incumbent was not seeking re-election.

Don’t Miss: How Many States Are Controlled By Republicans

What Democrats Needed To Happen

Entering Election Day, Republicans held a three-seat advantage over Democrats in the Senate. That meant that in order for Democrats to take control of the chamber in 2021, they needed to flip at least three seats and most likely four assuming they also won the White House.

If Democrats were to pick up three seats, then Kamala Harris, as vice president, would be able to break a 50-50 tie in the Senate. But Senator Doug Jones, Democrat of Alabama, was widely expected to lose his race in the deep red state, so realistically, most Democrats expected they would have to flip a fourth Republican seat.

In that scenario, Democrats also had to defend the other 11 seats held by Democratic incumbents that were up for grabs this cycle, including one in the battleground state of Michigan.

Election Results : Veto

See also: State government trifectas

Two state legislatures saw changes in their veto-proof majority statusâtypically when one party controls either three-fifths or two-thirds of both chambersâas a result of the 2020 elections. Democrats gained veto-proof majorities in Delaware and New York, bringing the number of state legislatures with a veto-proof majority in both chambers to 24: 16 held by Republicans and eight held by Democrats.

Forty-four states held regularly-scheduled state legislative elections on November 3. Heading into the election, there were 22 state legislatures where one party had a veto-proof majority in both chambers; 16 held by Republicans and six held by Democrats. Twenty of those states held legislative elections in 2020.

The veto override power can play a role in conflicts between state legislatures and governors. Conflict can occur when legislatures vote to override gubernatorial vetoes or in court cases related to vetoes and the override power.

Although it has the potential to create conflict, the veto override power is rarely used. According to political scientists Peverill Squire and Gary Moncrief in 2010, only about five percent of vetoes are overridden.

Changes in state legislative veto-proof majorites State Democratic veto-proof majority in state House Democratic veto-proof majority in state legislature Democratic veto-proof majority in state Assembly Democratic veto-proof majority in state legislature

Also Check: Who Lies More Democrats Or Republicans

Republicans Introduce 253 Bills To Restrict Voting Rights In States Across The Us

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Republican lawmakers in 43 states have introduced a total of 253 bills aimed at restricting access to the ballot box for tens of millions of people. Republican-controlled states, including Southern states that employed lynch law terror to block African Americans from voting during the decades-long period of Jim Crow segregation, are flooding their legislatures with measures to effectively disenfranchise working class, poor and minority voters.

The laws largely focus on tightening voter ID requirements, purging voter rolls and restricting absentee and mail-in ballots.

In the United States, state governments have the authority to oversee elections and determine election procedures and rules, including for national elections. Within each state, individual counties have a great deal of latitude in the conduct of elections.

Republicans control both the lower and upper legislative houses in 36 of the 50 states, and both the legislatures and governorships in 23 states, making it very possible for far-reaching barriers to the ballot box to be imposed across much of the country.

Despite opening the door for a return to restrictive and discriminatory voting practices, the 2013 ruling met with little resistance on the part of the Democratic Party. Neither the Obama White House nor the congressional Democrats mounted any serious effort to reverse the evisceration of the Voting Rights Act by enacting new legislation in the years since the reactionary Shelby ruling.

Texas

States That Gained Seats

The three most populous states to gain seats are Texas, Florida and North Carolina, and in each, Republicans will control the redistricting process. For the first time in decades, they wont have to seek preclearance from the Justice Department either before implementing their maps thanks to the 2013 Supreme Court decision that struck down part of the Voting Rights Act. That, in turn, could open the door for more extreme gerrymandering in these states, which historically disenfranchised voters of color.;

For instance, Republicans will at least try to draw Texass two new districts to be as safe as possible for Republicans. But they also face the challenge that Texass suburbs its fastest-growing areas are rapidly becoming more Democratic, which threatened to blow up their 2011 gerrymander. According to Daily Kos Elections, Biden came within 3 percentage points of carrying 22 out of Texass current 36 districts in the 2020 election. So in an effort to shore up Republican incumbents in some areas, the Texas legislature may be forced to create safe new districts for Democrats in places like Austin, Dallas or Houston. But even if one or both of the new seats are blue, Texass map will still likely benefit Republicans overall , muddying the question of which party truly benefits from reapportionment here.

You May Like: Which Party Controls The Senate 2019

Control Of The Senate Could Be Decided By Georgia Races

;There are two races up in Georgia this election, a regular Senate race and special election. The rules in Georgia for both the regular Senate election and the Senate special election require a candidate to win a majority, and if none of the candidates clear the 50% threshold, the race goes to a runoff in January.;

Recent polling in the race between incumbent GOP Senator David Perdue and Democrat Jon Ossoff has been tight, and the presence of a libertarian candidate on the ballot could prevent either Perdue or Ossoff from clearing the majority. In the special election, 21 candidates have qualified to be on the ballot, including Democrat Raphael Warnock, who has led in recent polls. GOP candidates Senator Kelly Loeffer, who was appointed to the seat last year, and Congressman Doug Collins are also on the ballot. If no candidate clears the majority, that race will also go to a runoff in January.

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daniloqp · 3 years

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China represses its technical giants. Does it sound familiar to you?

https://theministerofcapitalism.com/blog/china-represses-its-technical-giants-does-it-sound-familiar-to-you/

Ministries of China Industry and Information Technology on Monday announced a six-month campaign to regulate Internet businesses, particularly practices that “alter market order, damage consumer rights or threaten data security.” This was followed by repeated fines against technology giants, including Alibaba, Baidu and Tencent for violating antitrust laws, and a new plan to restrict overseas lists of Chinese companies.

The repression has extended to successes that were once seen as champions of self-production. The Didi Chuxing company won Uber in China and made forays into Latin America and Africa. On June 30, the company raised $ 4.4 billion in a IPO on the New York Stock Exchange, the largest for a Chinese company since Alibaba in 2014.

Two days later, Chinese authorities began an investigation into the company. Citing “serious breaches of laws and regulations in the collection and use of personal information,” Didi was removed from Chinese app stores and banned from registering new users. According to Bloomberg, sanctions could range from fines to a forced drop. Shortly afterwards, another agency imposed antitrust fines on Didi and other technology companies for mergers and acquisitions over the past decade.

According to reports, Chinese regulators had warned Didi to delay its IPO, but chose to go ahead with the listing. Other Chinese giants seemed to get the note: ByteDance, owner of Tik Tok, which had apparently been considering going public overseas, suspended those plans after meetings with regulators, sources explained The Wall Street Journal. Tuesday, Tencent he told Reuters temporarily suspended China’s new registrations on the ubiquitous WeChat app “to align with all relevant laws and regulations”.

The reasons for the seemingly sudden repression are unclear, but it comes amid President Xi Jinping’s measures to assert more authority over all aspects of life. Observers say the government, endowed with a series of new legislation, wants to regain control of technology companies that have become too big, too powerful and too willing to abuse their market share. At the same time, Xi seems to realign the country’s technology sector to foster state-led development in areas that matter to him, such as the creation of advanced technologies in artificial intelligence. And there is growing fear that exposure to foreign markets and foreign regulators will be too risky in an increasingly hostile international environment.

“Xi Jinping is always concerned with political loyalty: to him, to the Communist Party, to the party’s ideology,” says Susan Shirk, president of the 21st Century China Center at UC San Diego. She says Xi can’t be sure of the loyalty of China’s private tech titans, who have become rich and famous, and sit in data warehouses. “It simply makes me very nervous because I don’t know what they will do with all these resources. And at some point maybe they could use them to organize a challenge to Xi Jinping or even govern the party. “

Didi’s IPO on June 30, a day before the Communist Party’s 100th anniversary, suggested that the U.S. calendar and list were unpatriotic. A July 5th publishing house in the state Global Times Didi said, with 80 percent of the hail market in China containing sensitive information about personal habits and travel. He said the government will not allow Internet giants “to become responsible for data collection and use of the rules,” adding that “standards must be in the hands of the government.” Rumors were circulating on Chinese social media that Didi ceded user data to U.S. regulators. The murmurs of the nationalists online became loud enough for the company to post a denial on its official Weibo account.

“Xi Jinping is always concerned with political loyalty: to him, to the Communist Party, to the party’s ideology.”

Susan Shirk, president of the 21st Century China Center, UC San Diego

Following the IPO, a 2015 report from the company’s research group was recirculated on the Internet. Document detail the comings and goings of government employees, including the agencies that worked the longest hours, based on the amount of user data. This kind of visibility, combined with Didi’s very detailed maps, can make the authorities nervous.

“Clearly, the data Didi possesses is considered sensitive from a national security standpoint,” says Samm Sacks, senior member of the Yale Law School Paul Tsai China Center. Didi has also faced criticism in the past about how he did it managed murder investigations, not to protect users’ data and to use the personal information we collect to charge users different prices.

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dragonsandotters-dh · 7 years

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A/N: ok, here we go. This is a WIP I’ve been working on for months now. I’m waiting to post it on FFN and AO3 until I have at least 10 chapters written (working on editing chapter 4 and writing chapter 5 now, but it’s been going slowly.) I’ve decided to post three chapters exclusively here on Tumblr for my followers. Feel free to let me know what you like/don’t like, since I’m still in the early stages of this story and can really use some fresh eyes on this monster of a thing.

Summary: One fateful night early in his first surge of power, Tom Riddle meets a young and observant Narcissa Black. Their strange relationship will change the course of history. Rated: T (for now) Warnings: None, yet. Though I am playing fast and loose with canon and the canon timeline. And eventually, torture, dangerous situations, violence, emotional abuse/manipulation.

Thief in the Night

Prologue [Chapter One | Chapter Two] December 1970

As the youngest of three sisters of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, Narcissa spent her whole life trying to outshine and rise above her station. From the moment she could think for herself, she wanted to be well-known and feared among her fellow humans. As a slight, blonde woman, however, she had to work hard to create such a persona.

When she got to Hogwarts, it took a mere two years before she had secured herself outside her sisters’ and family’s shadows. By thirteen, she’d learned everything about the people in her house — she’d found being underestimated was an advantage when it came to observing those who wouldn’t usually divulge any important information around others not in their inner circle. As a Black and a woman, she was poised to be around anyone she wanted, and they would only acknowledge her presence if she chose to pull their attention.

In her sixth year, her parents began to groom her for marriage. Her eldest sister, Andromeda, had been a colossal disappointment; and while her sister Bellatrix had found an acceptable marriage, her mental instability was a cause for concern. Their mother doted on Narcissa, hoping that her youngest and prettiest daughter would secure the Black legacy for centuries to come.

That’s how she found herself at the annual Malfoy Christmas Gala during her school break. Though she didn’t know it as she walked through the large front doors of the manor wearing a new deep emerald dress that accentuated her curves and very subtly sparkled in the right light, this was the party that would change the course of her life forever. She was to be introduced to the Malfoy heir that night, and while she was glad for the opportunity, someone else caught her eye.

She’d only heard rumors about him before — hushed whispers in the cold hallways of Hogwarts and the common room. It was widely believed that Tom Riddle was the Heir of Slytherin. After almost three decades since he’d last walked the halls as a student, he was near legendary status among the snakes of the school.

Narcissa watched him the whole night. Even as she talked to Lucius Malfoy — who was very handsome, even standing next to Riddle himself — she found her eyes searched him out as she waited for her moment to strike. She saw the tall man, dressed sharply in the blackest suit she’d ever seen and a luxurious robe he must’ve found on his travels, leave the room when he thought no one was looking at him. The blonde followed him quietly from a few paces behind. Ducking into the loo after noting the door he’d gone through, Narcissa collected herself, reworking her beauty charms so that they were perfect.

Tom Riddle was the ideal candidate for marriage. Sure, Lucius could improve her family’s legacy and provide for her, but Riddle… Let her sister worry about advancing the family name, Narcissa hoped to blaze a new trail — to make an unheard of, unimaginable life for herself. Riddle could aid her in that endeavor. While Lucius was willing to follow along and exceed to a point, with this dark, mysterious man, she could work alongside him to provide the world with something that as of yet didn’t exist. She could see them, arm in arm, delicately standing at the helm of a large crowd, the flashes of the camera would blind her, but she would still be able to hear the people’s chants. They would worship the Wizarding World’s favorite couple, even as they actively suppressed the masses to maintain their station. Narcissa smiled mischievously at her reflection in the mirror.

Narcissa Black had not and would not have been able to prepare herself for what she found when she casually strolled through the door she’d seen Riddle disappear behind moments earlier. She stood in shocked silence as Abraxas Malfoy and the mark she’d set for herself months ago engaged in a passionate embrace. Lips crushed fervishly against lips as they groped desperately at each other. Narcissa’s head dipped languidly to one side as she continued her stealthy intrusion into the intimate moment. Her eyes roved over the men and was disturbed when she felt a familiar heat awaken and coil low in her belly. It would have been easy for the young woman to back out of the room undetected. One might argue it would’ve been smarter for her to have done so.

Instead, the stranger in the room cleared her throat daintily — it was just enough sound to force the men in the room to push apart as if scalded. Narcissa stood her ground, staring innocently at the wizards who struggled to realign themselves as two separate people. She didn’t flinch as Tom Riddle’s eyes shifted to red, murderous intent etched into the sharp angles of his face. Her determination might have saved her life.

“Mr. Malfoy,” the blonde tipped her head toward the married man in the room without taking her eyes from the wizard that had captivated her thoughts, her voice too airy for the situation. “Mr. Riddle, I was hoping to have a moment of your time.”

If Tom Marvolo Riddle ever did something as undignified as to scoff, he would have done so at the young girl in front of him. “As you can see, I am quite busy at the moment, Miss,” he responded, his tone clipped. He still hadn’t ruled out torture or murder — in fact, the longer she stood there knowing his deepest secret, the harder it was to talk himself out of punishing her at the very least.

“If you would allow me just a minute, Mr. Riddle, I assure you I will not disappoint.” Narcissa squared her shoulders, holding herself as if a string was pulling her up from her abdomen. She held his gaze confidently, hoping to portray through her eyes how valuable she could be. Though the teenager had hoped to be valuable in more ways than just politically, Narcissa could work with a closeted gay wizard. She’d long since learned that her sexuality wasn’t something she could coast on her whole life.

Abraxas was staring at her as if she were insane, but she actively ignored him after her polite greeting. Riddle, however, turned to his lover with a question in his eyes. “Do you mind?” he asked, his tone clearly conveying his exasperation.

The wizard who would one day be her father in law simply nodded. “Of course, My Lord, what’s mine is yours.” Abraxas gestured toward the large oak desk in the corner of the room before turning toward the door. As he passed the young woman, Abraxas met her deep brown eyes. He searched her face for a clue of what she had up her sleeve, but after the brief glance, Narcissa’s full attention was back to the man now sitting behind the desk.

She stalked toward Riddle as the door clicked behind Abraxas and sat gracefully in one of the tall, thin chairs in front of the desk. She crossed her legs at the ankle, tilting her body to the side as she rested her hands in her lap. Narcissa held the Dark Lord’s gaze as if she were his equal. It disturbed him. “I trust that you will not speak of what you have seen tonight,” he said sternly, steepling his fingers under his chin as he glared at her.

“Of course,” Narcissa replied with a small upturn to the corner of her lips. “I’m Narcissa Black, sir, and I’ve heard grand things about you.”

Riddle sighed in frustration, glancing down at the top of the desk in front of him. “Ms. Black, if you’ve come to me — disturbed me — to flatter me, I promise I will make you regret it for the rest of your life.”

She chuckled low in her throat, shaking her head carefully as to not disturb her perfectly poised hair. “No, Tom,” she said, matching his stern tone. A muscle in his lower jaw twitched at the name, and his eyes flashed red once more, but she didn’t back down. “I’ve been thinking for a long time about what you hope to achieve,” her voice was steady, thankfully, and didn’t convey the nerves jumping around beneath her skin. “You should create a relationship with the monsters of our society, I think, if you want a chance at true power.” As his head tilted forward — she’d finally gotten his attention — her tone dropped lower. “The giants and werewolves — they’re disenfranchised from our world, and wizards are frightened of them. You could promise them the world, and they’d follow you. Even after that, they’d be fine with the scraps you have left over for them at the end, as it would be better than what they have now — nothing.”

Tom considered her as they sat in silence. She’d said her piece, and she wasn’t a rambler. He had to admit he was impressed. It was something he’d considered yet wasn’t sure if it would be worth the effort. But she was right, he hated to concede, they had nothing, so therefor they would be happy with anything. “Thank you, Ms. Black, for sharing your thoughts,” he said slowly. “You may go.”

Narcissa nodded once, knowing not to overstay her welcome when she wasn’t welcome to begin with. She stood and turned to leave before crossing her face over her shoulder. “And sir? You should tell people about your sexuality, if for no other reason than to keep silly girls like me from dreaming they have a chance.”

She didn’t expect him to respond, and she turned fully around to face him when he did. “The Wizarding World frowns upon such things, Ms. Black, you know that. I’m expected to produce an heir or watch my legacy fade away.”

One perfectly groomed eyebrow arched pointedly as Narcissa regarded him. “But sir, what ever would the purpose of an heir be when you’re immortal?” A smirk graced her lips as she watched the now familiar anger and murderous intent flash though his eyes, but she left the room before allowing him to respond.

As she disappeared, softly shutting the door behind her, Tom swivelled around in the cushiony chair in which he sat, facing the grand windows that allowed him to oversee the grounds of the manor. How many of his secrets did this young woman know? Who was she, really? The youngest of the Black sisters — he’d had the misfortune of making acquaintances with the middle sister, and she was a little too deranged, if he was allowed to say as much. But this wisp of a woman, one he hadn’t even noticed throughout the night, had proven to be more observant than any of the dignified men he’d been rubbing elbows with since his return to Britain.

It frustrated Tom Riddle three weeks later when he sat down to pen a letter to the intriguing woman he’d met at the Malfoy Christmas Gala. She’d been back to school for a few days, and his indiscretions with the father of the man she was set to marry were still a secret. It was that show of loyalty that made him decide to reach out to her. His troubles starting the correspondence proved to him that he needed to cultivate her and take her under his wing.

#thief in the night #narcissa black #tom marvolo riddle #abraxas malfoy #lucius malfoy #tombraxas #hp #hp fanfic #hp edits #d&o writes stuff #d&o edits

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wiremagazine · 5 years

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CALM DOWN, IT'S THE MTV VIDEO MUSIC AWARDS WITH OUR FAVORITE DIVAS, DIVOS & FRESH NEW ARTISTS!

By DJ FR8-O

The world's most unpredictable awards show just threw us another curveball. Hosting this year's hottest night in music is comedian and actor Sebastian Maniscalco. Yeah, never heard of him either, but the outspoken Italian is ready to bring the laughs and the chutzpah back into the VMAs. Joining him will be all our favorite divas, divos and fresh new artists who've been dominating our playlists over the last 12 months. This year's ceremony is going to be a battle of the pop princesses with both Ariana Grande and Taylor Swift snatching 10 nominations each. Who will take home the most Moon Persons is yet to be seen, but here are my top picks.

BEST NEW ARTIST Ava Max Billie Eilish H.E.R. Lil Nas X Rosalía

Lizzo It may seem like Lizzo just came out of nowhere and went straight to the front of the class, but she's been schooling her fans since she was 14 years old. In an industry that puts so much pressure on image and tries to hide flaws with photoshop and camera tricks, Lizzo celebrates her curves and literally puts it all out there. Her confidence is only overshadowed by her talent, with a stream of hits and sold-out shows over the past year.

BEST COLLABORATION BTS (featuring Halsey): "Boy with Luv" Lil Nas X (featuring Billy Ray Cyrus): "Old Town Road (Remix)" Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello: "Señorita" Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber: "I Don't Care" Taylor Swift (featuring Brendon Urie of Panic! at the Disco): "Me!"

Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper: "Shallow" As if she wasn't jaw-droppingly gifted all on her own, no one has ever brought the on-screen chemistry as Gaga and Cooper did in the big-screen blockbuster A Star is Born. The heat was so intense that it raised suspicions of the two being more than just co-stars. While those rumors have since been squashed, I still get a few raised hairs every time I hear their duet from the diva's Oscar-winning film.

BEST POP 5 Seconds of Summer: "Easier" Cardi B and Bruno Mars: "Please Me" Billie Eilish: "Bad Guy" Ariana Grande: "Thank U, Next" Khalid: "Talk" Taylor Swift: "You Need to Calm Down"

Jonas Brothers: "Sucker" Everyone has their opinion of what makes a great pop song, or in this case a great pop video, but I'm sure you would agree that Nick soaking in a claw foot tub and Joe tied up in his underwear would be somewhere at the top of the list. Not only does this earworm bury deep into your brain with its throwback vibe and razor-sharp hook, but watching these guys all grown up and having more fun than ever makes this clip as timeless as the track. Did I mention the bathtub?

BEST HIP HOP 21 Savage (featuring J. Cole): "A Lot" Cardi B: "Money" DJ Khaled (featuring Nipsey Hussle and John Legend): "Higher" Lil Nas X (featuring Billy Ray Cyrus): "Old Town Road (Remix)" Travis Scott (featuring Drake): "Sicko Mode"

2 Chainz (featuring Ariana Grande): "Rule the World" Is there nothing that Ari can't do? It's hard to tell who the actual guest artist is on this track, but are we really surprised? Even during her early days on "Bang Bang," she managed to hold her own with two powerhouse divas. Now it looks like she's the one bringing the noise.

BEST R&B Childish Gambino: "Feels Like Summer" H.E.R. (featuring Bryson Tiller): "Could've Been" Alicia Keys: "Raise a Man" Normani (featuring 6lack): "Waves" Anderson .Paak (featuring Smokey Robinson): "Make It Better"

Ella Mai: "Trip" After a 13 year absence from the show, the R&B category is back! Maybe it's because of the genre's resurgence into mainstream music; but whatever the reason, it's opening doors to a whole new pool of talent that may otherwise be overlooked, like this incredibly gifted and well-deserved artist.

BEST LATIN Anuel AA and Karol G: "Secreto" Benny Blanco, Tainy, Selena Gomez and J Balvin: "I Can't Get Enough" Daddy Yankee (featuring Snow): "Con Calma" Maluma: "Mala Mía" Rosalía and J Balvin (featuring El Guincho): "Con Altura"

Bad Bunny (featuring Drake): "Mia" Watching this video reminded me of growing up in Miami, and showing up at the impromptu house party that someone hosted while their parents were away. Of course, Drake never showed up to any of them, but of all the nominees, this one captures what everyday Latin life is really about, minus all the half-naked women.

BEST DANCE The Chainsmokers (featuring Bebe Rexha): "Call You Mine" Clean Bandit (featuring Demi Lovato): "Solo" DJ Snake (featuring Selena Gomez, Ozuna and Cardi B): "Taki Taki" David Guetta, Bebe Rexha and J Balvin: "Say My Name" Marshmello and Bastille: "Happier"

Silk City and Dua Lipa: "Electricity" Music trends will come and go, but classic house will never go out of style. These guys took the essence of "Show Me Love" and "Finally" and weaved it into a track that's as fresh as it is nostalgic. Throw in Lipa's sultry vocals weaving a hypnotic melody and you've got yourself a dance anthem that no one can resist.

VIDEO FOR GOOD Jamie N Commons and Skylar Grey (featuring Gallant): "Runaway Train" Halsey: "Nightmare" The Killers: "Land of the Free" John Legend: "Preach" Lil Dicky: "Earth"

Taylor Swift: "You Need to Calm Down" It can't be a coincidence that this category debuted the same year as this track. In a time when LGBTQ lives are being attacked – physically and politically – on the daily, it's refreshing and inspiring to see an artist take a stand and put her influence where her mouth is. Not only is the track brilliantly written, but I haven't seen that many LGBTQ icons together since the Tony Awards.

BEST DIRECTION Billie Eilish: "Bad Guy" (Director: Dave Meyers) FKA Twigs: "Cellophane" (Director: Andrew Thomas Huang) Ariana Grande: "Thank U, Next" (Director: Hannah Lux Davis) Lil Nas X (featuring Billy Ray Cyrus): "Old Town Road (Remix)" (Director: Calmatic) LSD: "No New Friends" (Director: Dano Cerny)

Taylor Swift: "You Need to Calm Down" (Director: Taylor Swift and Drew Kirsch) Okay, I know what you're thinking, "this queen must be a huge T-Swift fan, so he's voting for her in every category." Quite the contrary, actually. I've always been pretty lukewarm when it comes to the country-turned-pop singer, but any director that could wrangle that many divas in one video shoot and not end up on the nightly news deserves a trophy.

BEST VISUAL EFFECTS DJ Khaled (featuring SZA): "Just Us" (Visual Effects: GloriaFX, Sergii Mashevskyi and Anatolli Kuzmytskyi) Billie Eilish: "When the Party's Over" (Visual Effects: Ryan Ross and Andres Jaramillo) FKA Twigs: "Cellophane" (Visual Effects: Analog) Ariana Grande: "God Is a Woman" (Visual Effects: Fabrice Lagayette at Mathematic) LSD: "No New Friends" (Visual Effects: Ethan Chancer)

Taylor Swift (featuring Brendon Urie of Panic! at the Disco): "Me!" (Visual Effects: Loris Paillier and Lucas Salton for BUF VFX) I'd hand over the award for this vid just for the visual of a smoldering Brendon Urie alone, but if you've seen the clip you know the allure is more than just his pretty face. Reminiscent of a modern Moulin Rouge, the screen oozes with splashes of color, action and special effects galore, from start to finish.

BEST ART DIRECTION BTS (featuring Halsey): "Boy with Luv" (Art Directors: JinSil Park and BoNa Kim (MU:E) Ariana Grande: "7 Rings" (Art Director: John Richoux) Lil Nas X (featuring Billy Ray Cyrus): "Old Town Road (Remix)" (Art Director: Christian Zollenkopf for Prettybird) Taylor Swift: "You Need to Calm Down" (Art Director: Brittany Porter) Kanye West and Lil Pump (featuring Adele Givens): "I Love It" (Art Director: Tino Schaedler)

Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello: "Señorita" (Art Director: Tatiana Van Sauter) In a world where videos are trying to be bigger, brighter and bolder than the last, it takes a good eye to keep things in the background simple and let the singers take the spotlight. Subtlety is an art in itself, especially when it's meant to help a love story unfold before your eyes. My only note is that we need to see more of Shawn in his Calvin Klein's next time.

BEST CHOREOGRAPHY FKA Twigs: "Cellophane" (Choreographer: Kelly Yvonne) LSD: "No New Friends" (Choreographer: Ryan Heffington) Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello: "Señorita" (Choreographer: Calvit Hodge) Rosalía and J Balvin (featuring El Guincho): "Con Altura" (Choreographer: Charm La'Donna) Solange: "Almeda" (Choreographers: Maya Taylor and Solange Knowles)

BTS (featuring Halsey): "Boy with Luv" (Choreographers: Son Sungdeuk and Quick Crew) K-pop isn't exactly on heavy rotation on my playlists, but I must give credit where credit is due. Sure, the competition shows some beautiful moves of their own, but this vid is all about color, dancing, and more dancing. Don't ask me what they're singing about, but I could tell they were having fun while singing it.

ARTIST OF THE YEAR Cardi B Billie Eilish Halsey Jonas Brothers Shawn Mendes

Ariana Grande This may seem like I'm playing faves here, but if you take a look at all the work the other nominees have put out in the last year together, they still don't add up to the number of albums, singles, videos and collaborations Ari has checked off her to-do list. While it may not have been ground-breaking, and there's no doubt this award will actually go to Billie Eillish, no one can argue that this diva has put in more blood, sweat and tears this year than any other artist in the biz.

SONG OF THE YEAR Drake: "In My Feelings" Ariana Grande: "Thank U, Next" Jonas Brothers: "Sucker" Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper: "Shallow" Lil Nas X (featuring Billy Ray Cyrus): "Old Town Road (Remix)"

Taylor Swift: "You Need to Calm Down" Yeah, I'm going there again because this is an anthem we all need to hear and remember; not just this year, but for many years to come until the tables are turned, the planets are realigned and the haters finally take their seats for good.

VIDEO OF THE YEAR 21 Savage (featuring J. Cole): "A Lot" Billie Eilish: "Bad Guy" Ariana Grande: "Thank U, Next" Jonas Brothers: "Sucker" Lil Nas X (featuring Billy Ray Cyrus): "Old Town Road (Remix)"

Taylor Swift: "You Need to Calm Down" The same goes for the video! While others might have tried to battle hate with hate, Swift chose instead to take the high road, celebrate our community, shine a spotlight on some of our favorite LGBTQ icons and hold an honest mirror up at those with narrow minds. One little music video won't change the world overnight, but if it can inspire a new generation to think differently than the one before them, then that's something to get excited about.

The 2019 MTV Video Music Awards will air live from the Prudential Center in Newark on August 26th at 8 p.m. ET.

This was originally published in Wire Magazine Issue 17.2019

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