#realising who emile is?

[randomnameless]

Does that mean Mercie and Supreme Leader could be distant cousins potentially? Guess it might be an idea in that 10000 year lore.

You have no idea how many cans of worm this AU opens anon -

AU where Dimi marries Mercie, and the resulting Blaiddyd heir has... a crest of Seiros :(

No one understands why, maybe it's a Hresvelg curse for destroying Adrestia?

With time, the Crest of Seiros is known as the Crest of Hresvelg (to Rhea's chagrin) and is now seen, in the Kingdom's folk legends, as a curse that befell humanity when it became too greedy.

AU where it's Papa Martritz's line that is a branch line from the Hresvelg House -

Ionius not managing to roll for crested heirs with his different wives jumped on the occasion to destroy House Martritz (even if it has a heir! in the over, but it exists still!) and put an end to eventual pretenders to the Imperial throne, if his "lady friends" can't give him an adequate crested heir :(

And even if the baby survives, it has a chance of not getting a crest of Seiros, and by virtue of not being a noble born baby, people might believe it's just a random bastard and not a legitimate threat to his dynasty

(Imagine if Baron Bartels got his seiros crested bby with Mercie though - hopefully, Emile made sure that plan would never see fruition!)

Ultimate combination AU : Mercie and Emile can tolerate Zanado fruits

Just like Constance!

Somehow, before being turned in a pincushion, lizard!Lycaon befriended Lamine's 9th daughter, who returned North when he "suddenly died" and Hildegard I (who descends from Willy's human children, the ones he got when he had his crest but from human women!) took his succession.

The resulting kid had no pointy ears but was "human passing" enough (only 1/4th Nabatean!), then said kid got kids - sometimes with a crest of Seiros, sometimes with the crest of Lamine - and their kids got kids - and they ended up in Adrestia, becoming Mercie's mom family.

Mercie will notice something strange because her parents recipe (that was influenced by her mom's cooking) always featured putting slices of fruit in the shape of a star on his various cupcakes - but then, those disgusting fruits Flayn, Seteth and even Lady Rhea nibble on occasion, when sliced, look like stars ? Granted, she never tried to eat any since everyone knows they're inedible! She tried to put a slice on a cupcake and ate it, to Annette and Dedue's surprise, she didn't threw up like everyone else, nor collapsed, even if Annette scolded her "Mercie, what are you even doing?! Those things can't be eaten!"

Overhearing Mercie's recipe history, Seteth frowns like never before - Lycaon used to hold hands with a scion of Lamine who joined their side (he told Seiros the Warrior to watch out because he was too young to hold hands, she ignored him, again!).

This will make Billy start to question themselves, if Rhea considered Mother like her daughter, and Mercedes is the child of the child of the child of the child (etc) of Rhea's son, is Mercedes their sort of nephew?

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!

Devika Rani (Achhut Kanya)—She was grandniece of Rabindranath Tagore (laureate). She was sent to boarding school in England at age nine and grew up there. After completing her schooling, she joined the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) and the Royal Academy of Music to study acting and music, at a time when aristocratic women did not enter showbiz. She studied filmmaking in Berlin. It is well known that she underwent training at the UFA Studios in the art and technique of acting under Eric Pommer, and other aspects of film production including costume and set designing and make-up, under eminent directors like GW Pabst, Fritz Lang, Emil Jannings and Josef von Sternberg. She is also reported to have worked with Marlene Dietrich. She had a multi-faceted personality and took on many responsibilities of film production at Bombay Talkies, a studio that she co-founded with Himanshu Rai in Mumbai in 1934. She often took care of hair and make up, supervised set design and editing, scouted for new talent and mentored them. She was the face of Bombay Talkies, and also the reason behind the political and financial backing the studio received, at a time when even women from red light districts refused to work as actresses. She was the first recipient of the Dadasaheb Phalke Award, when it was instituted in 1970.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Deborah Kerr:

I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.

Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.

Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.

Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!

Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"

She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS

Devika Rani:

Achhut Kanya (1936) is the only one of hers I've seen but hot DAMN

[yorusposts]

IT HAPPENED TWICE… TWICE!!!

I’m gonna focus my attention in one of the lackeys here.

Ok, I had this idea a long time ago and I’m sure other people thought what I gonna explain because of the comments I saw on Twitter, for example. So, in order to explain it with my own words, let’s see this scene from episode 7 in the anime.

Exactly, that’s the scene where Anya apologises to the second son and Damian gets his love filter and confirms (here rather us 'cause lil Desmond is a tremendous tsundere) he has a crush on her. So of course he is blushing so bad because he’s looking at her as the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. However… if you can see…

He’s not the only one blushing. One of the lackeys, on his side, has a little blush too. And we can see it a bit better here:

We know Ewen don’t give a damn, so he looks serene. Of course Tomato Desmond, I mean, Damian is redder from head to toes. But look closely and you can see sweat on Emile's cheeks' left side and a little blush on the right.

And if we look at this next scene from the chapter 3 of Spy x Family anime Part 2:

BOTH DAMIAN AND EMILE ARE BLUSHING!!! JUST WHEN THEY SAW ANYA SMILE!!!

Nothing bout one being redder than the other one or anything. NOOO!!! The two of them: the one whom we know has a crush on her and denies those feelings and the other whom we know almost nothing about and the mangaka could create a big drama with. GOSH!!!

In addition, look now at this video here (credits to this account on Twitter):

Of course, Damian reacts when he heard his crush's name, but then… second later… Emile does the same. He could’ve stay looking at the other names like Ewen is doing, but no… he turned and even speaks to her first, even though it was a bad comment, but he did it. Gosh.

I think Endo could surprises us in the end and I know, I’m aware this is a very crazy idea, but think about it (based on what I read on Twitter): until now we all know Damian is the only one who has a crush on Anya. However, what if Endo add a new love interest or something? As far as we are aware of, the mangaka (and the anime) focus on the little details, and we indeed saw little details for an Emile with a possibly crush on Anya. I don’t know if we’ll see more about this in the future, but I’ll still have this hypothesis.

Imagine: Damian realising there is another one who is interested in his crush. He’d act as if it’s not of his business while in his thoughts he’s having a battle with himself because he wants to know who’s the person to warn him to stay away from her, not knowing that the person in question is one of his closest friends. Again. GOSH!!! DRAMA!!!

[girlactionfigure]

It was a "small" act.

But, at the time, she didn’t realize she was making a life-changing, and life-saving decision, not only for her but for hundreds of Polish Jews during the Second World War, helping save them from Nazi execution.

Only when she died last year, on April 8, 2022, at the age of 107 did the rest of the world learn of her courage.

She was born Carmen Koppel in Vienna, daughter of Frieda and Emil Koppel. Her father, an opera-loving grain merchant, chose her name after Bizet’s Carmen,” according to The Guardian, “She studied languages at the University of Vienna, taking shorthand to help with her note-taking.”

She said “My mother had insisted that I learn something useful, so I learnt to type.”

“In 1936 she married Josef Weitmann, who owned a curtain-making business in Kraków, and the couple settled there and had a son, Sascha.

“After the German occupation of Poland in 1939, the administration wanted to re-establish Kraków as Krakau, a German city. As Jews, [she] and her husband were forced to live in the Kraków ghetto, established by the Nazis in 1940. Its inhabitants were allowed to leave and return only with special permits. Josef was killed while trying to escape; Sascha was smuggled to relatives in Hungary.”

According to the New York Times, “in late 1944, as a slave laborer in the administrative offices of the Plaszow concentration camp in Poland, [she] typed an important version of the manifest of prisoners bound for [a] munitions factory in the area of the Czech Republic then known as the Sudetenland.”

“It was in those offices” that she also added her name and the names of two friends to the list, indicating her profession as “schreibkraft,” according to writer Alex Mindlin.

By typing that list, she almost certainly saved her own life, the lives of her friends, and many others, according to Mindlin.

That “list” “saved them from the gas chambers of Auschwitz, where most of the other Jews from Plaszow were deported,” according to The Teller Report.

Years later after the war, she would meet again the man who had made that list possible, the man who employed her.

She had a different last name by this time, but he still remembered her by her nickname. [She never liked the name “Carmen”, so close friends referred to her after a character in “La Bohème”.]

'It must have been around 1953,” she said. “I had gone to Vienna and I was walking along a street with an uncle. We were passing a coffee house where there was a group of people sitting. This large man ran across and hugged and started kissing me, saying: ‘Mimi, Mimi…’

“It was then that I realised that it was Schindler sitting with some of the Jews he had rescued.”

“The documents that [Mimi Reinhardt] worked on were made famous by Thomas Keneally’s 1982 novel . . . and by the 1993 Steven Spielberg movie ["Schindler's List"], both of which detailed the extraordinary lengths to which [Oskar] Schindler went to save the lives of some 1,200 of his Jewish workers,” according to the Times.

Other sources cite the number of lives saved even higher. According to AFP (Agence France-Presse) and The Times of Israel, “The lists which Reinhardt compiled for [Schindler] helped save the lives of some 1,300 Jews at considerable risk to his own life.”

“Austrian-born Reinhardt (sometimes spelled “Reinhard), herself a Jew, was recruited by Schindler himself and worked for him until 1945.”

This is a new story for the Jon S. Randal Peace Page. The Peace Page focuses on past and present stories seldom told of lives forgotten, ignored, or dismissed. The stories are gathered from writers, journalists, and historians to share awareness and foster understanding, to bring people together. And, as such, the stories are never relegated to one single month - they are available all year in the Peace Page archives and on this page each week throughout the year. We encourage you to learn more about the individuals and events mentioned here and to support the writers, educators, and historians whose words we present. Thank you for being here and helping us share awareness.

~~~~~

Reinhardt, then known as Carmen Koppel, “survived the final liquidation of the Kraków ghetto in March 1943, when 2,000 Jews were slaughtered, because the Nazis deemed her language and secretarial skills useful,” according to The Guardian.

At the time, the Red Army was approaching Poland and workers in Plaszow were being sent west to death camps,” according to The New York Times.

Reinhardt was a “prisoner at a concentration camp near Krakow, Poland during WWII in 1944,” according to the World Jewish Congress, when Schindler recruited her for a job in the camp's administrative office.

“Schindler and his Jewish accountant Itzhak Stern, who had helped to motivate Schindler, prepared the 'list' of essential workers - all of them Jews - for relocation to his new factory,' according to writer Peter Beaumont.

As Schindler’s secretary, Reinhardt “drew up the lists of Jewish workers in the Polish city of Krakow to work in the factory of her German industrialist boss”, according to writer Caroline Frost.

“This was a highly risky enterprise but is estimated to have saved . . . [the] workers from deportation and almost certain death in Nazi concentration camps.”

Reinhardt also “added the names of friends and her own married names until Schindler's quota negotiated with the SS was fulfilled: "Weitmann, Carmen, January 15, 1915, typist" is number 279 on the list.

“The rescue almost went awry” according to The Teller Report.

“On the way to Brünnlitz in 1944, the train carrying Schindler’s workers was diverted to Auschwitz,” according to The Guardian. “Death seemed inevitable. But Schindler used his military intelligence contacts to stop the diversion, claiming that these workers were vital for his armaments factory.”

“They had to stay in Auschwitz for two weeks,” according to The Teller Report.

“Mimi Reinhardt later compared the time to Dante's ‘Inferno’.”

“At the war’s end, [Schindler’s] workers were liberated, and Mimi was reunited with Sascha.”

Reinhardt “settled for a time in Morocco and then New York, where she lived for 50 years,” according to The Guardian. “She kept in touch with other ‘Schindler Jews’ whose lives had been saved by escaping the Plaszów camp under Schindler’s protection, but did not speak publicly about her earlier life until she moved to Israel in 2007.”

In Israel, she joined “her only son, Sacha Weitman, who was then a professor of sociology at Tel Aviv University,” according to The Times of Israel.

Schindler died in 1974, when he “was named by Israel’s Yad Vashem Holocaust museum as a member of the ‘Righteous Among the Nations’, an honour for non-Jews who tried to save Jews from Nazi extermination,’ according to Frost. “He is buried on the Mount of Olives just outside Jerusalem.”

The story of Reinhardt’s “small act” came to light when she was being interviewed by the Jewish Agency for Israel. (Note, “Reinhardt wasn’t directly portrayed in the Schindler’s List film,” according to News18.)

Reinhardt “expressed regret that Mr. Schindler, whom she adored, did not become a household name until after his death in 1974,” wrote Mindlin.

“He would have loved it, the attention,” she said.

She added in another interview, "I saw a man who was constantly risking his life for what he was doing. He was human. He must have had a heart of gold."

Reinhardt spent her last years at a nursing home north of Tel Aviv.

She is “mourned by her son and his family, as well as the thousands of people whose parents and grandparents she helped escape certain death,” according to the Jerusalem Post.

She has three granddaughters, nine great-grandchildren and two great-great-grandchildren.

In the image attached, Sasha Weitman, son of Mimi Reinhardt, holds an old photograph of his mother in Herzliya, Israel, (AP Photo/Ariel Schalit).

Of her contribution to history and assisting Schindler in saving hundreds of her fellow Jews, Reinhardt said, “I was just typing the list.”

~ jsr

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

[akuma-tenshi]

waves my silly arms around who wants to help me out ((descriptions of the fics under the cut))

context / descriptions of the fics:

To Discover, to Love, and to Be Set Free — Dragon Hunter x Fugitive, multi-chapter. The Dragon Hunter receives an invitation to participate in a gladiator-style arena as its newest fighter, overseen by an untouchable queen and her quiet warrior king. Over the course of his stay, he meets his fellow fighters and begins to discover the cracks in this seemingly-perfect kingdom's facade, becomes entangled with the king, and may even become the piece that makes it all fall apart.

Those Who Carried On — CoA7, multi-chapter. In a fungus-infected apocalyptic wasteland there are bunkers scattered about, built to keep the last vestiges of humanity safe and help them weather out the destruction. Frederick has been kept in one such bunker by his father, forbidden from leaving to see the sky. Struggling day in and day out for inspiration, he finally forms a plan with two other residents to escape and find freedom in the wastes. In the desolation, they meet allies, fight off the infection encroaching on the land... and perhaps even catch a glimpse of the brave new world beyond.

Starlit Steps — Seastar (Phantom Sail x Luminary), single chapter. It's been years since Frederick drowned while he was alone on the deck, but Emil still struggles with seeing him out there, so close to the railing. One wrong move and he'll find himself at the bottom of the sea again; and though Emil knows he won't die, the anxiety that churns in him never calms. Still, Frederick insists on staying out there, watching the seas for any sign of the mirage he caught sight of the night of his death. Emil wants to find a way to draw him away from his vigilant post — perhaps asking for a dance will help.

Eternity Awaits Us — Seastar (Phantom Sail x Luminary), single chapter. They've been together for a long time now, sailing the seas, exploring the world, nobody but each other to keep them company. They share a bed, share a life, have pledged eternity to each other without saying a word about it. All that's left to do now is seal the deal with a ring — over the years, Emil's become sure he wants to marry Frederick. Though... acquiring rings as a ghost with no source of income may be difficult. It's time he formulates a plan.

Life Hasn't Spared His Gentle Lover — Canon divergence / roommate AU, single chapter. It's a beautiful morning, and Emil's taking an opportunity to do some gardening. All the better when Frederick decides to join him, allowing Emil to help guide his hands and introduce him to his favourite hobby. Yet their peaceful morning "date" makes way for quiet contemplation of just what brought them to this point in their lives — and instills a new curiosity in Emil when he notices odd patterns of calluses on his lover's hands.

A Collection of Peculiar Dreams. — Frederick x Luminary, single chapter. Recently, Frederick has been having some strange dreams. Dreams about a peculiar pale-haired stranger with gentle, callused hands and eyes filled with scattered stars, clothes woven from the night sky and a smile that makes him melt. Yet each time he wakes, he's left grasping for any memory of his dream, of his nighttime visitor. The more he learns about his late-night lover, however, the more he begins to realise this stranger isn't so unfamiliar after all. (Does contain some NSFW scenes.)

[marimayscarlett]

I've just seen a photo of Khira and Emil (Paul's son) and thought it was super cute. Then I realised how close the whole „Rammstein camp" is and I almost cried a few happy tears.

Photos of Kira and Emil.

Paul and Oli together on holiday with children.

Schneider spending time with Khira and Till's grandson. Ulrikes and RZKs „birthday twin” picture.

Khira DJing at an event organised by Ollie's wife.

Selfies of Mareike and Schneider's wife.

Photos of till hugging Sophia’s mum last year.

Mareike, who is good friends with both Ariele and Nikki Landers.

The fact that Mareike has been practising in Fehrbelliner Strasse for years.

It makes me realise that they are all so much more than a band. Friends, some of whom have known each other for over 40 years and are almost like family. I think that’s so beautiful. Like imagine knowing some of your friends for more than 40 years ❤️ (and would love to be a fly on the wall when they all hang out together and talk about the good old days 😭❤️)

Hi 👋🏼

I must say, these constellations cross my mind quite frequently, especially since last year. A band which worked and created musical monuments together, rose to unbelievable fame together, went through hardships together for three decades and band members who knew each other even longer isn't the norm - so many bands out there exist only up to now because of numerous line up changes, to the point where only a small percentage of the original founding members are still present. It's also not totally the norm that family members of the band are this close to each other, support each other (like you mentioned Khira Li doing a DJ Set for Marie Riedel), spending time together so naturally. In my mind at least, all this can be viewed as signs for the band being so much more than just the work place of six creative minds who found each other 30 years ago - it's like a living space of vastly different characters, who stick together for better and for worse and have like a tightly knit support system out of their families around them, which are then again connected with each other. Of course I'm just speculating here a tiny bit on the closeness, but there really seem to exist several deeper and quite friendly connections between family members; and this whole net of support which is woven around the band is such a comforting concept to me 🤍

I didn't find pictures to all of the connections you mentioned (would honestly love to see a selfie of Mareike and Uli), but here are some photos, first up the 'birthday twin' picture of Richard and Ulrike (both having their birthday on the 24th of July:

Khira Li, Merlin, Emil and a friend of theirs, maybe enjoying the fact that Richard has a pool on his roof:

Schneider being a guest on Khira Li's birthday as well as during an excursion (even though I think the child is Maxime and not Till's grandson, I'm not entirely sure):

I'm very sure that there are more pictures like these out there, but that's enough digging for now 😇

[sy-on-boy]

Okay, so Ch69 was a BOMBSHELL (and I'm going insane)

SSS appearing at the beginning makes me think Yuri might take on the case, meaning he might meet Anya (Anya's not supposed to know about Yuri's job) and Damian

It would also make sense since the Red Circus was taken on by Yor (Ch17.5) and it would be funny to see the two siblings deal with the same enemy while preventing the other sibling from knowing about it

Damian is sitting with George. You would've expected him to sit with Ewen/Emile, but he let them sit together. This is very curious to me because George literally tried to get Damian expelled, and only failed because Anya stood up for him (the teacher wouldn't believe E&E). Damian, sweetie, this is a boy who tried to frame you as a smoker and sent a spy to change your grades. Good for you that you don't hold it against him, I guess

I do think Ewen and Emile are very devoted to Damian (see the boys' field trip) but maybe Damian doesn't want them to fight over who gets to sit next to him?

Anya and Damian also sit in the same row on the two sides of the bus. Knowing how Anya wants to approach Damian (and how Damian notices Anya), it's probably intentional.

Bill makes a reappearance, which is a welcome surprise. Damian sounds like a classist (literally) with his comment that the school should've at least given each class their own bus. Huh, didn't know Damian liked his class that much (or hated the other classes so much)

"Shut up. Who told you Wald hall kids you're allowed to talk to me?" ??? Is Damian still salty about losing the dodgeball match?? Does he think Cecil hall is superior? Is there a hierarchy at school? Or does he just not like Bill?

"All you other classes are our rivals" Damian bestie your classes could change next year. According to what Becky said, they're going to be divided by grades. Damian sure has a lot of Cecil hall loyalty / pride for some reason

I love Anya's impression of Damian. He's a silly, snot-faced crybaby. Like, it's really evident from the artstyle that Anya thinks of herself as "totally adorable" (with Becky nodding in agreement, aww) while Damian is just a goofy scion.

NOTE: in Anya's imagination, the teacher says Damian is "an uggo on the inside". And Anya also says, "Sy-on boy isn't ugly, he's just a piece of crap"

So Anya doesn't judge from appearances, unlike Damian who repeatedly calls her an uggo and a runt, and it's possible Anya thinks of herself as "superior" to Damian because she doesn't think he's ugly, she just thinks he sucks in general LMFAO

So Anya doesn't think Damian is ugly. Maybe. She probably thinks he looks stupid though

By the way, Anya makes herself look prettier in her own filter. Damian also makes her look prettier in his filter

Anya throws a crumbled up piece of paper to get Damian's attention. This is exactly what Damian did when they first met and he wanted her attention

Damianya violence arc omg. Damian seems to be blushing less as the chapters go on, and they have a fun sort of semi-rivalry.

DAMIAN GOT THE CAKE FOR ANYA!! "I should just hand her the stupid cake and be done with it" Awww he genuinely got her cake! And it's the crunchy sort which she likes!

And Damian let E&E eat it (it doesn't look like he ate any himself) while being all flustered and annoyed. He's a good kid, deep down

A reference to the macaron arc! Lots of references to so-called Damianya (aka school) chapters, with 1) Bill + dodgeball, 2) George and the macarons, 3) Handkerchief + cake (+ Bond's kibble which was a gag in the handkerchief chapter)

Anya offers dog food to Damian. This is hilarious because she sounds so innocent and genuine, but Damian is furious.

"Cecil hall kids sure are noisy" Whoops, even Wald hall knows about Cecil's reputation. Damian and Anya probably argue every day at school. They're going to be Those Two

It's interesting to see that Anya isn't reading minds this chapter. She didn't realize Damian got cake for her and she didn't seem to have realised the driver was a terrorist? Missing Damian's thoughts is normal because it was a fleeting thought, but the terrorist was probably concentrating on the hijacking for like, the entire bus ride. Anya, you good?

And then the bus is hijacked. Woo! Action! Drama! Wow!

I'm super excited for this arc because of how much potential it as. It's giving me the vibes of Cruise Arc but with the Eden kids. It also feels like a fanfic to me, particularly my fic when Anya saves Damian from an assassination lol. Here's a dump of my thoughts:

Damian might be a main target. We know about his dad and his influence in the political sphere. Bill says "chairman's son Damian", which might be a nod to the fact. The terrorist guy also mentions "as the nation's elite, you've probably figured out what's happening", and Damian is an elite among the elite

This will focus on the subplot of Damian and Anya's friendship. As I said earlier, this chapter has multiple references to past Damianya chapters. There's also the theme of friendship going on currently, with Loid telling Anya to treasure her friends. Anya is also desperate to go on with Plan B because she feels threatened by her mom befriending Melinda. And Damian indeed buys Anya cake even if he never agreed to it in the first place lol, showing a bit of development. Anya also fantasizes about purposefully getting Damian into trouble and saving him, and now the entire bus is in trouble (and Anya can save him maybe?). So maybe we'll have scenes of Anya saving Damian (furthering his debt to her, which is mentioned in the chapter) or Damian saving Anya (paying her back since he never got to give her cake)

The adults might come in too. The possibilities:

Yuri, as I mentioned earlier, might be one because the SSS knows about this. I know this is a stretch but we might get Demetrius debut with Yuri (or after this arc). In a previous post I noted that the Forgers and Desmonds meet in pairs of fathers, mothers, and children. Demetrius is Damian's brother and Yuri is Yor's brother, so maybe the brothers might be a pair?

Yor was previously involved with the Red Circus, and I can see her coming back to tie up loose ends. And possibly going batshit because Anya is in danger. This might end up with Yor meeting Damian, which I think certainly makes sense after the Yorlinda chapters and Yor acting shocked that Melinda doesn't seem to care much about Damian.

Twilight would be interesting because of his dynamic with Damian. I analyzed the panels during the Twilight-Donovan face-off and you can just see Damian is standing with Twilight instead of his actual father. They get along fine and I think Damian likes Loid well enough.

Obviously, all three will have to conceal their identity from Anya (and the other Eden kids), so we might get one-sided interactions (such as Twilight saving Damian but Damian thinking he's just been saved by a random man)

And even funnier would be to have multiple adults on the scene (for Anya) and they have to hide from each other. Iconic Thorn Princess x Twilight teamup maybe?!

Anya (and the rest) might get Stellars. This time, if she saves them, she'll have an entire bus full of witnesses, unlike the Ken drowning incident. This could drastically affect Anya's reputation at school and her relationship with Damian. We might also get the Cecil 5 (+ Bill and George since they're sitting close to them) working together, which will be fun.

I do think Damian might give up the "our classes are rivals" thing if the two halls end up bonding / working together

And since I have the brain of a fanfic author, imagine if Damian is in trouble and Anya has to save him and vice versa... this is going to be the first real danger the kids have been in

I know this is a bit chaotic and messy but this chapter is scratching the itch lol. I'm going to be insane for the duration of this arc.

I'm so excited. I cannot wait for the next few chapters <3 Endo really went all out on this one with drama, action, humor, and there's so many ways this one could go!! <3

[justforbooks]

The actor Lou Gossett Jr, who has died aged 87, is best known for his performance in An Officer and A Gentleman (1982) as Gunnery Sergeant Emil Foley, whose tough training transforms recruit Richard Gere into the man of the film’s title. He was the first black winner of an Academy Award for best supporting actor, and only the third black actor (after Hattie McDaniel and Sidney Poitier) to take home any Oscar.

The director, Taylor Hackford, said he cast Gossett in a role written for a white actor, following a familiar Hollywood trope played by John Wayne, Burt Lancaster, Victor McLaglen or R Lee Ermey, because while researching he realised the tension of “black enlisted men having make-or-break control over whether white college graduates would become officers”. Gossett had already won an Emmy award playing a different sort of mentor, the slave Fiddler who teaches Kunta Kinte the ropes in Roots (1977), but he was still a relatively unknown 46-year-old when he got his breakthrough role, despite a long history of success on stage and in music as well as on screen.

Born in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, Louis was the son of Helen (nee Wray), a nurse, and Louis Sr, a porter. As a child he suffered from polio, but became a high school athlete before a basketball injury led to his joining the drama club. His teacher encouraged him to audition professionally, and at 17 he was on Broadway playing a troubled child in Take a Giant Step, which won him a Donaldson award for best newcomer.

He won a drama scholarship to New York University, but continued working, in The Desk Set (1955), and made his television debut in two episodes of the NBC anthology show The Big Story. In 1959 he was cast with Poitier and Ruby Dee in Raisin in the Sun, and made his film debut reprising his role in 1961. On Broadway that year he played in Jean Genet’s The Blacks, in an all-star cast with James Earl Jones, Cicely Tyson, Roscoe Lee Brown, Godfrey Cambridge and a young Maya Angelou; it was the decade’s longest-running show.

Gossett was also active in the Greenwich Village folk music scene. He released his first single Hooka Dooka, Green Green in 1964, followed by See See Rider, and co-wrote the anti-war hit Handsome Johnny with Richie Havens. In 1967 he released another single, a drums and horns version of Pete Seeger’s anti-war hymn Where Have All the Flowers Gone. He was in the gospel musical Tambourines to Glory (1963) and in producer Mike Todd’s America, Be Seated at the 1964 New York World’s Fair.

His plays became more limited: The Zulu and the Zayda and My Sweet Charlie; the very short run of Carry Me Back to Morningside Heights, in which he played a black man owning a white slave; and a revival of Golden Boy (1964), with Sammy Davis Jr. His final Broadway part was as the murdered Congolese leader Patrice Lamumba, in Conor Cruise O’Brien’s Murderous Angels (1971). Gossett had played roles in New York-set TV series such as The Naked City, but he began to make a mark in Hollywood, despite LAPD officers having handcuffed him to a tree, on “suspicion”, in 1966.

On TV he starred in The Young Rebels (1970-71) set in the American revolution. In film, he was good as a desperate tenant in Hal Ashby’s Landlord (1970) and brilliant with James Garner in Skin Game (1971), taking part in a con trick in which Garner sells him repeatedly into slavery then helps him to escape.

In 1977, alongside Roots, he attracted attention as a memorable villain in Peter Yates’s hit The Deep, and got artistic revenge on the LAPD in Robert Aldrich’s The Choirboys. The TV movie of The Lazarus Syndrome (1979) became a series in which Gossett played a realistic hospital chief of staff set against an idealistic younger doctor. He played the black baseball star Satchel Paige in the TV movie Don’t Look Back (1981); years later he had a small part as another Negro League star, Cool Papa Bell, in The Perfect Game (2009).

After his Oscar, he played another assassinated African leader, in the TV mini-series Sadat, reportedly approved for the role by Anwar Sadat’s widow Jihan. Though he remained a busy working actor, good starring roles in major productions eluded him, as producers fell back on his drill sergeant image. He was Colonel “Chappy” Sinclair in Iron Eagle (1986) and its three dismal sequels.

But in 1989 he starred in Dick Wolf’s TV series Gideon Oliver, as an anthropology professor solving crimes in New York. And he won a best supporting actor Golden Globe for his role in the TV movie The Josephine Baker Story (1991). He revisited the stage in the film adaptation of Sam Shepard’s Curse of the Starving Class (1994).

Gossett twice received the NAACP’s Image Award, and another Emmy for producing a children’s special, In His Father’s Shoes (1997). In 2006 he founded the Eracism Foundation, providing programmes to foster “cultural diversity, historical enrichment and anti-violence initiatives”. Despite an illness eventually linked to toxic mould in his Santa Monica home, he kept working with a recurring part in Stargate SG-1 (2005-06). A diagnosis of prostate cancer in 2010 hardly slowed him down.

Most recently, he played Will “Hooded Justice” Reeves in the TV series Watchmen (2019), in the series Kingdom Business, about the gospel music industry, and in the 2023 musical remake of The Color Purple.

His first marriage, to Hattie Glascoe, in 1967, was annulled after five months; his second, to Christina Mangosing, lasted for two years from 1973; and his third, to Cyndi (Cynthia) James, from 1987 to 1992. He is survived by two sons, Satie, from his second marriage, and Sharron, from his third.

🔔 Louis Cameron Gossett Jr, actor, born 27 May 1936; died 28 March 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[karahalloway]

The Highwayman: Part III - The Highwayman Comes Riding

Fandom: TRR (Historical AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: On a dark, moonlit night, a highwayman's luck runs out...

Masterlist: The Highwayman

Chapter Summary: Drake arrives, but it's too late...

Word Count: 4,100

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, physical violence, murder, grief, suicidal thoughts, main character death) Do not read if you are triggered by any of these things!

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: As with Part II of this series, this installment is also quite grim and dark. So read at your own peril. There is no happy ending. As before, I have made some changes to the original, but hopefully, these are for the better.

A/N2: This is my third and final submission for @choicesprompts January 2024 Song Rewrite Challenge. The song I chose to rewrite is The Highwayman by Loreena McKennit.

Part III - The Highwayman Comes Riding

The crack of a musket explodes out into the night.

I duck instinctively, pistols primed and itching to return fire...

...until I realise that the shot had come from the casement.

My throat constricts. "Harper..."

But she has vanished behind the plume of powder smoke that now obscures her window.

"Shit..."

I'd known something was wrong the moment I laid eyes on her. She'd been too tense, too still, sitting on that ledge, more akin to a doll than a flesh-and-blood woman...

...but I'd spotted the silvery gleam of the barrel too late, and now all hell has broken loose.

Fucking Beaumont.

I should never have let my guard down.

Heedless of the preservation of my own skin, I leap forward, fingers on triggers, desperate to reach her.

Another flash of orange...

...and my hat sails from atop my head as a bullet goes just wide of its mark.

I raise a weapon, volleys of lead peppering the thatch to my left and right...

...but I am quickly forced to confront the obvious.

I cannot risk it.

The darkness, in combination with the smoke screen being kicked up by the 'Coats flintlocks obscures my sight into the room, and Harper's location within.

And though I desire nothing more than to dispatch each and every one of Beaumont's whoresons to the depths of hell, the truth is that I'd be firing blind. And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if my bullet found Harper instead of a dragoon.

So, I have but one choice.

Flank the bastards.

Spinning 'round, I dash back down the length of the roof, bullets nipping at my coattails. Diving to the side, I return a pair of retaliatory shots in the general direction of the inn — careful to avoid the actual window — so the 'Coats are under no illusion as to the direction of my retreat.

Sliding down the thatch, I push off from the roof to land bodily atop the muck heap.

Not the most graceful of my escapes, I have to admit, but beggars can't be choosers. And I am pressed for time that I do not have.

Rolling off the pile of shit, I quickly sheath my spent pistols and lope towards the barn with sabre drawn instead.

Emile, the stable hand, had paid back my previous generosity by making me wise to the unsavoury nature of the guests that had descended on the inn. So, instead of hitching Drogon and the new palfrey up in a stall, I've taken the added precaution of hiding the horses out in the gorse.

But where I erred was thinking that the Greencoat patrol had sought the inn out for benign purposes. Because it sure as hell hadn't been me who'd plotted the course for them. In fact, I've always taken care to ensure that my tracks never led directly back to Harper.

Which begs the question... How the fuck did I end up walking into an ambush? With Gale strung up as bait?

My grip tenses on the hilt of my sword.

Someone had let the cat out of the bag. They must've. There's no other explanation.

Who? I have no clue. As there are a grand total of two souls who are privy to the secret that I frequent The Crown, and neither would betray me.

Not willingly, at least...

But, first things first.

Skirting along the shadow of the structure's perimeter, I arrive at the stable doors.

It appears quiet. But after being greeted by gunfire once already this eve, I am loath to take further chances.

Pinching up a handful of peddles, I toss them through the doorway. Only when no shots fire in reply, do I dare slip inside.

"Sir?" comes the hesitant query from within the shadows. "That ye? I heard musket fire an'—"

My sabre slices through the night. "Thought I'd be dead?"

The boy's countenance morphs into a mask of horror as the blade comes to rest 'neath his jaw. "Nay, sir! I'd never! I—"

"Care to swear on that?" I interject with a dangerous edge.

"On a tower of Bibles stacked on my parents' graves, sir!" Emile vouches with a tremble to his voice.

I assess the lad under the pale light of the moon. His face is ashen but his eyes glint with steadfast surety.

I lower my blade. "The 'Coats have Harper..."

The hand emits a gasp of disbelief. "Sacré dieu...!"

"...and I could use your assistance," I add, moving to the closest stall that houses a mount bearing Greencoat livery.

"Anything, sir," he proclaims earnestly. "Yerself an' Mistress Harper ha' always been good t' me!"

"Fetch a bag of oats," I direct as I grab the reins of the bay gelding. "And a length of rope if you have it."

"Right away, sir!"

While Emile sets about his task, I lead the Greencoat mount out onto the gangway. Reaching for the girth, I tighten it back up before slipping the bridle off and tossing it into the straw.

"The things ye requested, sir," huffs Emile, reappearing once more.

"Good," I approve, taking the sack of feed from him. "Now, help me lash this to the saddle."

Working in tandem, we quickly secure the decoy atop the horse. Shrugging out of my justacorps — on top of the retribution for Harper, that cunt of a Beaumont also owes me a new hat and coat — I sling the muck- and bullet hole-ridden covering over the sack to complete the trick.

"Think'll fall for it, sir?" asks Emile as he meets my eye from across the horse's neck.

"Better pray to God they do," I reply, slapping the mount on the rear to send it galloping out into the night. "Else this might very well be our last meeting."

Emile's throat bobs in consternation. "Best o' luck to ye, then, sir."

"Christ knows I'll need it," I accede, grasping his palm to press a gold ducat into it. "Now, make yourself scarce afore the dragoons show up."

With a quick nod, the lad disappears back into the gloom of the barn.

Withdrawing from the stables once more, I skirt 'round the far side of the building, careful to keep to the shadows. Hopping the low fence of the vegetable patch, I make my way towards the low door that leads into the kitchen.

Trying the handle, I find it unlocked. Pulling the heavy wooden door back, I slip warily inside.

The crash of boots above me confirms that the Greencoats have fallen for my ruse. But there is no guarantee that every last one of their dastardly lot plans to depart the inn.

Belvedere Beaumont may be a godless dog, but he is by no means a fool.

Which means I'll need to keep ahold of my wits... and weapons.

Pausing at the bottom of the short set of stone steps that lead up to the main hall, I spare a moment to quickly reload my flintlocks.

Slotting one gun back into my belt, I grasp the hilt of my sabre in one hand, and the second pistol in the other before ascending the stairs.

The hall is dark... and quiet.

Whatever patrons there may have been must've made themselves scarce upon the discharge of the first shot.

Honestly? I cannot blame them. I certainly would not wish to be caught on the wrong side of the dragoon's crossfire.

I clench my eyes shut. Please, let her be safe...

Moving through the hall like a ghost, I arrive at the main staircase.

Cocking my pistol, I proceed onto the first step with as much care as I can muster, even as every fibre of my body is raring to dash upwards as quickly as humanly possible.

Sticking to the wall, I inch my way slowly towards the second floor, flintlock before me, on guard for the faintest sound or movement.

Reaching the landing without incident, I am greeted by the wanton destruction left in the wake of the dragoon besiegement.

My jaw piques in ire.

This had been punition — pure and simple. The setting of a heavy-handed example to put the fear of God into the hearts of all those who may cross paths with Beaumont and his men.

A warning of what will befall those who dare defy the letter of the law.

I shake my head. I should never have involved—

A shadow moves in one of the rooms to my left.

Flattening myself against the wall, I sneak a peek through the doorway...

...and what I see roils my guts.

Robert Gale — the inn-keep — is hunched over the chest standing in front of the large, four-poster bed, his hands bound behind him, his shirt and hair matted with sweat. A dark puddle of blood pools at his feet.

Two 'Coats root through the things in the room, pocketing anything that catches their eye and fancy, sniggering amongst themselves.

A hiss of chagrin escapes me. "Putain de merde..."

There is punishment, and then there is persecution. And Harper's father is — without a shadow of a doubt — a victim of the latter. The extent of his wounds provides ample proof of Beaumont's abuse of his authority.

And I cannot allow myself to stand idly by in the face of this atrocity.

I step out of the gloom and into the doorway.

A floorboard creaks beneath my boot.

One of the dragoons glances up...

...but by the time his faculties have clocked the fact that I am foe, not friend, I have already splattered his brains onto the wall behind him.

His compatriot meets the same fate half a breath later, as he fumbles ineffectually for his musket, his body thudding to the floor as the second of my bullets also finds sharp and swift retribution.

Robert Gale's voice croaks out from the foot of the bed. "Ye should'a left them alone, lad..."

But even that simple act is too much for his broken body, and he starts to hack violently.

Taking three quick strides 'cross the room, I manage to grab the old man 'fore he keels over. "Easy now..."

He heaves a shuddering breath 'gainst my breast. "Now, we'll be strung up fer sure..."

"Nay," I counter softly, reaching behind him to loosen the bonds that secure his wrists. "You just lay the blame at my feet. Where it belongs."

Robert twists his neck up to regard me with bruised eyes and cracked lips. "Yer him... The Raven Rider..."

"Amongst other things..." I admit, lowering him as gently as I can to the floor.

The inn-keep hacks out a strained laugh. "Aye... I can see why she likes you..."

"Have you seen her?" I demand, shrugging out of my waistcoat to press it to the wound at his side.

"Nay," Robert replies hoarsely. "Not since they found the gold in her room..."

The icy hand of dread grips my heart. "Sweet Jesus...How the bloody hell did they even know where to look?"

"Théo..." comes the raspy confession. "He... He heard—"

I nearly choke on my own breath. "The window..."

We never closed the damn window...

Springing to my feet, I dash from the room, heedless of the sound of wood striking wood as my booted feet pound the length of the hallway.

How could I have let myself be such a careless fool!

Not only have I tarred the woman I love by virtue of our association, but I've unwittingly led the bastards right to her! And if they found out about the gold, then...

I cannot allow myself to even think on that.

Skidding to a stop in front of the last doorway, I throw myself inside...

...and skid to an abrupt halt as I lay eyes on the horror spread out before of me.

"No..."

The dogged denial slips from my tongue in a whisper.

But my lack of acceptance does nothing to assuage the merciless truth of the reality that assaults me like a thousand knives to my chest.

Harper lies prone in the moonlight, bound and gagged, her golden tresses soaked in the slick crimson of her blood.

"No... No..."

My feet carry me unthinkingly to her listless form beneath the casement — the window of which sits still ajar — and I crash to my knees at her side.

Grasping her by the shoulders, I pull her to me with trembling hands, praying under my breath, hoping against hope that it's a mere trick of the night, a cruel misjudgement, a sordid nightmare that I have somehow stumbled into, soon to awake from...

...but even though her skin still feels warm to the touch, no breath issues from her chest and those hazel eyes that once sparkled with magic and love now stare dully out into the night.

My nails dig into her flesh as my body bows over hers. "Oh, God... Please... No..."

But if the Almighty Lord hears my plea, He is either a heartless bastard or an impotent fraud because He ignores my beseeachment. And she remains unmoving 'gainst my heart.

"NO!!!"

The delegation roars forth from my chest with a force that is naked in its brutality. The heathen keen echoes out into the night as the bitter taste of anguish engulfs my throat and my soul shatters 'neath the stars.

I am too late. And she is dead.

Shot in the heart and left to bleed out on the cold floor like a dog. Alone. Without any assurances or prayer.

All because I'd allowed my heart to sway my head. Convincing myself that despite all my prior misdeeds, I could nevertheless steal a future for myself. A future I had no right or claim to. A future that was more akin to the spectre of a mirage than any flesh-and-blood destiny. A future that was doomed from the start.

Yet my covetousness knew no bounds. And blinded as I had been by the promise of the lie I'd weaved not just myself but Harper as well, I'd led us into the mire of disaster.

"It should've been me..." I rasp into her neck as anguish blurs my vision. "It fucking should've been me..."

I hear the floorboards strain behind me. But I care not. I have no words or sentiment left. And if it's one of Beaumont's enterprising men come to shoot me in the back? Well, then at least they'll be doing me the favour of putting me out of my luckless misery.

Because the knowledge that I have doomed the woman I love cuts deeper than any mortal knife could.

And I've lost the right to live anyway.

"Imma sorry, lad..." says Robert Gale, laying a calloused hand on my shoulder, his own voice cracking.

I shrug the gesture off. I don't deserve his pity. Let alone his succour. I am the one holding the body of his dead daughter in my arms. If anything, he should be setting on me to tear limb from limb in payment for my sins.

Yet, he does no such thing.

"Had I know afore tonight 'bout ye..." He heaves a hoarse breath from above me. "But I s'pose we all had our secrets... And I know it inna any consolation as of now, but we'll bury her 'neath the oak tree. Next t' her mother. That way ye can—"

"Them," I bite out through clenched teeth.

The old man shifts. "What do ye—?"

"She was with child," I grit, reaching up to pull the bloodied gag from her face.

Robert falls into deathly silence beside me.

"So, raise your hand," I tell him bluntly as I pull her eyes gently closed. "Beat me. Wring my neck. Kill me, for all I care. For this is the only opportunity I'll afford you to exact your just vengeance upon me."

"Ye must think very little o' me, if ye think I'd strike a grieving man," rebuts the inn-keep with a hint of steel. "Let alone one who loved my daughter so."

"Then you are a better man than me," I reply solemnly, leaning in one last time to lay a kiss on her lifeless lips.

"Imma'n older man," he corrects as I gently return Harper's head to the floor. "Who's stood where yer standin'. So, I can afford some clemency. 'Specially in this bitter hour."

"You might come to regret your choice," I reply, forcing myself back to my feet. "As I bring nothing but death. And our paths will not cross again after tonight."

"Where ye goin'?" comes the flummoxed query as I push past him.

I throw my reply carelessly over my shoulder. "To exact vengeance of my own."

"They'll kill ye, lad!" Robert calls after me as I stride from the room. "They'll hang ye fer murder! And her death will've been fer n—!"

"I'm a dead man anyway."

Without caring to look back, I let my boots carry me back 'cross the corridor to retrieve my weapons from where I'd left them in the master bedroom.

Reloading the pistols on the fly, I stash them in my belt and I beat a determined path back to the lower level of the inn and out into the night.

The crash of the door 'gainst the wall catches unawares the pair of dragoons that had been left to stand watch on the exterior. But by the time they turn towards me, I have already run both of them through.

Leaving the sods to bleed out in the mud, I plunge into the darkness rising before me.

The cold, winter air whips through my hair, stinging my eyes and my lips in sharp contrast to the hot blood slithering between my knuckles.

But I pay it no need. For I have but one goal. One mission.

To take every soul I can into the night.

Because death? It is all but assured for me. As whether I go by my own bullet or a Greencoat's, it is simply a matter of choice at this point. For I have no reason left to live.

My world turned to ash the moment she died. And there is nothing left to salvage.

Coming to a halt some ways off from the inn, I shoot a sharp whistle into the depths of the murk. A shadowy form raises its head from the gorse, and in the next instant, Drogon is trotting eagerly towards me, the new palfrey in tow.

"Change of plans, mon gross," I advise as he comes to a stop in front of me, breath steaming in the moonlight. "And I don't think you're going to like it..."

The Merèns regards me for a moment, as if sensing the shift in my soul, before letting out a world-weary sigh.

"You always were far too opinionated," I tell him dryly, reaching up to untether the palfrey from his saddle.

Turning the bay towards the stables, I give it a slap on the rump to send it on its way. With Harper gone, I have no further use for the horse. And Emile will ensure it is well cared for.

The stallion shakes his head at me as I swing myself onto his back. But I allow him no further opportunity for protest as I gather the reins in one hand, and point him north.

"Hue!"

Upon command, Drogon leaps forward, and the night becomes a blur as we fly across the moor, like an ill wish upon the wind, seeking our quarry 'neath the path of the stars.

I have no clue for how long we ride. The silvery eye of the hunter's moon casts an eerie pall over the land, distorting any earthly sense of time or distance as its lunar magic stretches shadows and swallows minutes.

Eventually, though, from out of the darkness and the mist appears a ghostly glow, bobbing on the brow of the hill.

"Beaumont," I growl, watching the company ride closer.

They must have caught the horse and realised the nature of the ruse they had fallen prey to.

But it matters not. The time for tricks and cons has passed. There is no more running... No more hiding. No more trying to cheat or contrive our fates. The last of the road has run out.

It is judgment hour.

Wrenching the flintlocks from my belt, I press Drogon forward, down into the valley, down into the well of our doom.

Yet a strange sense of calm blankets me as we draw level with the oncoming troop. Perhaps because my heart already stopped beating the moment I laid eyes on her. And this last, earthly act is merely a formality. Or, I'm so drunk on the potent potion of grief and bloodlust that swirls through my veins that I've become numb to all else.

Either way, I am a shadow of the man I once was. And welcome the sweet promise of release.

The reins slip from my fingers as I raise the pistols to sight my shot.

The figures of men and horses coalesce from out of the gloom, torches borne aloft.

I reach the edge of the sphere of light...

... and let the first shot fly.

The lead dragoon's eyes widen in surprise as the crack of flint 'gainst frizzen ignites the black powder in the pan, splintering the calm of the night.

The lead round explodes out of the barrel in a flash of smoke and fire, hurtling through the air to imbed itself in the soft flesh of the man's cheek, shattering teeth and bone as it goes.

The shock of the impact causes the 'Coat to jerk back on the length of his reins, pulling his horse into the path of its neighbour.

Taking advantage of the confusion, I fire another round into the heaving mess of bodies, catching a horse in the shoulder, causing it to throw its rider from its back.

Cries of horror and surprise rise up as the precisely stacked formation careens into itself, turning both man and beast into a maelstrom of panic.

Slinging the spent weapons into the night, I whirl Drogon back 'round, his hooves rearing into the air as he seeks to redirect the sharpness of his momentum.

Whipping my sabre from its sheath, a hellish howl erupts from my throat as I point the tip of the blade across the narrow divide in vengeful promise.

"BEAUMONT!"

A glint of gold flashes in the middle of the fray as my target snaps his head up at the sound of his name.

"Shoot him, you whelps!" screams the captain, grabbing for his own pistol. "Blast him dead!"

But I am already charging forward.

Shots crack out into the night as I bear down upon my mark...

...and there is but one prayer on my lips.

"I am coming, mon coeur..."

I am almost upon the wall of dragoons when I feel Drogon stumble. Another round pierces my gut a breath later. A third lodges in my shoulder.

But still, I urge the stallion on...

...until his knees give way in the face of the desperate volley of bullets and he careens into the mud, taking me with him, mere steps from my goal.

A thousand pounds of horseflesh crashes down on me, pinning my leg 'neath the weight. My sabre clatters from my hand to vanish into the tangles of the gorse beside me.

The back of my head collides with the ground, and I find myself staring up into the black expense above me, my body broken, my senses reeling.

Drogon lifts his head briefly, attempting to pull himself to his feet, before succumbing to the inherent futility of the exercise with a mournful sigh.

"It's alright, mon gross," I whisper, attempting to comfort the wounded beast lying atop me, even as my vision skips and my lungs struggle for breath as a familiar wetness drenches my shirt.

This is not the way I planned to go. But it seems I left what remained of my luck in that cramped room where my love had blossomed and then died.

Fitting, really...

A pistol clicks above me.

With the last of my strength, I reach beneath my shirt, where Harper's talisman lies coiled 'gainst my heart.

Twisting the damp silk 'round my finger, I close my eyes with a final exhale.

…look for me by the moonlight.

They say that in the depths of the dark — when the moon is high and full — that the sound of hooves may be heard, galloping 'cross the moor...

And though you may not glimpse it, a ghostly rider's there. Searching for his love, they say, who gave her life for his...

If he finds her, 'tis not known; but he made a solemn vow to her. And a promise bound in blood and silk, is a promise that must be filled...

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[opera-ghosts]

Nipper and His Master’s Voice

The famous Nipper picture as revised for the Gramophone Company, from an oleograph

For much of the 20th century, one of the world’s most famous trade marks was a picture of a small terrier staring into the brass trumpet of a primitive gramophone.  “His Master’s Voice” read the caption.

The picture was painted, probably in 1898, by the Huguenot artist Francis Barraud; the dog, ‘Nipper’ (he tended to nip people’s legs), had belonged to his elder brother Mark but was inherited by Francis on Mark’s death.  Nipper himself had died, in 1895, before the picture was painted.  Originally, the dog was shown listening to a cylinder phonograph, on which the user could record his own voice; thus, Nipper could have heard the voice of his master emerging from the trumpet.  As Gramophones played only pre-recorded discs, a dog could hear only a master who happened to be a recording artist.

The story goes that Barraud offered his picture to the Edison Bell company (responsible for the phonograph in question), but they rather sniffily turned their nose up at the idea.  Then a friend suggested that Barraud improve the picture with one of the brass horns used by the new Gramophone Company, so the artist approached them at their offices in Maiden Lane, off the Strand, for the loan of a brass horn to copy.  “Yes, certainly”, was their response, “and if you replace the phonograph with a Gramophone, we will buy the picture.”

The Gramophone Company took delivery of the revised picture in October 1899; they paid Barraud £100 (£50 for the painting and £50 for the Copyright).   Barraud had copyrighted the original painting in February 1899.  No one knew what sort of phonograph was in that picture, until in 1972 the late Frank Andrews, of the City of London Phonograph & Gramophone Society (CLPGS), realised that Barraud’s copyright application would have been accompanied by a photograph. Searching through a box of applications in the Public Record Office in Chancery Lane, he found that photograph, showing the dog in front of an Edison Bell phonograph with a rather ungainly black horn.  An illustrated booklet was published in 1973, The Story of ‘Nipper’ and the ‘His Master’s’ Voice Picture, written by Leonard Petts, then archivist at EMI, with assistance from Frank Andrews.

Francis Barraud talked of how “It suddenly occurred to me that to have my dog listening to the phonograph, with an intelligent and rather puzzled expression, and call it ‘His Master’s Voice’, would make an excellent subject” but recently two possible sources for the title, at least, have been put forward in For the Record,* the journal of the CLPGS.  In 1888 a painting was exhibited by Sir William Orchardson called Her Mother’s Voice. It is in the Tate Gallery, a typical Victorian narrative picture of a widower listening to his daughter singing and reminding him of her mother.  A more probable source is an engraving which appeared in the magazine Black & White in 1891, of a scene in which members of the Browning Society listened, a year after the poet’s death, to a recording of his voice. It was captioned ‘Listening to the Master’s Voice’. Barraud is likely to have been aware of this scene (its title might in turn have been inspired by the Orchardson picture).  (*FtR 52, 2014 and 76, 2020)

In 1950, a party from EMI, with two members of the Barraud family, went to a courtyard in Kingston-upon-Thames where it was said that Nipper had been buried.  Excavations near the stump of a mulberry tree in what was now a garage parking area revealed no bones that could be definitely identified as those of Nipper, but the site, then behind a bank, is widely regarded as Nipper’s resting place.

The picture, without its title, was registered by The Gramophone Company as a Trade Mark in December 1900 (it had been registered in the USA in July by Emile Berliner, the inventor of the Gramophone).  In later years, up to his death in 1924, Francis Barraud was engaged to paint copies of the picture for the Company’s various offices; the original remained in the EMI boardroom for many years, and close inspection shows the pentimenti where the phonograph was overpainted.  The picture was reproduced in Gramophone Company publicity from the outset, but did not replace their existing ‘Recording Angel’ trade mark.  In the USA, the Victor Talking Machine Company, which was affiliated to the Gramophone Co, made more use of it as a trade mark. The two firms divided the world between them (Victor supplied the Americas and Far East; Gramophone supplied Europe and the British Empire apart from Canada) and thus Nipper and the Gramophone became a worldwide emblem very quickly.  Ultimately, it was the British company which used it most prominently, for when a court decided in 1910 that the word Gramophone was no longer a proprietary name, the company registered the picture with the title ‘His Master’s Voice’ and the title alone as Trade Marks. ‘His Master’s Voice’ then became their brand name. It was a clumsy epithet, but public usage soon abbreviated it to HMV, as eventually, after WW2, did the company.

Take-overs, sell-offs and globalisation of products caused EMI to drop the Nipper trade mark by the end of the 20th century, and it was sold to the newly independent HMV shops in 2003.

The famous Nipper picture as revised for the Gramophone Company, from an oleograph

Nipper (photograph by Barraud, Liverpool and Oxford Street, London)

The original picture, with a phonograph, as shown in Barraud’s copyright photograph of 1899 (National Archives: Copy 1/147)

His Master’s Voice, cartoon by Victor Gillam, 1903; already, the picture was well enough known to attract a political cartoonist.

Blue plaque at 126 Piccadilly, London, the location of Francis Barraud’s studio in 1899

Nipper needle tins, 1902-1960; the embossed tin (top left) is the earliest, 1902-3.  Top right is a cardboard packet from WW1, and bottom right, one of the many ‘clones’, mainly from overseas, trying to cash in on the dog’s popularity without infringing the trade mark

Copyright Christopher Proudfoot 12 March 2024 via huguenotmuseum.org

FRANCIS BARRAUD (1856-1924) English artist with a version of His Master's Voice painting which he originally completed in 1899

[cassianandfenrysaremyboyos]

Some scenes I'd love to see from Casteel's pov in his book

The scene where he's introduced as Poppy's new guard and see's her unveiled for the first time. You know he had a "holy shit she's the most beautiful person I've ever seen" moment.

The rise scene! Just an oscar emmy pulitzer winning scene. One of my favourites.

Also I wouldn't mind the library/ledge scene. Seeing Casteel's reaction to finding Poppy mysteriously gone from her room, and having no idea how she got out?? All the way to finding her out on the ledge lol

The willow scene. Because Casteel led Poppy out to the garden that night, specifically to take her!! And I need the conflict of his mindset going "This is it, I'm doing it, I'm taking her tonight" to "I'm not taking her! I can't do it!"

Him keeping a bedside vigil while Poppy is drugged/sleeping after Victor's death, as alluded to by Poppy in this passage "I had this weird impression that I hadn’t been alone while I slept. There was a sensation of callused palms against my cheek, fingers brushing hair back from my face. I had the faintest memory of Hawke talking to me, whispering when the room was filled with sunlight and when it had been taken over by night."

The stables/betrayal scene. Because the angst! I can't wait to get into his head during that time where he's acting all nonchalant and charming but on the inside is dying that he's hurting Poppy!! 💔

When Poppy gets stabbed. I wanna see Casteel's worry and his guilt and his pain (when Poppy says "it hurts" and he thinks she's talking about herself but she's talking about what she feels from him! *cries* 😭) And all the anguish of him knowing that he's the one that put her in that position and that it's his people who hurt her. And getting to see what he feels when he gets stabbed. Which again, more angst and pain but also Casteel just being Casteel about stabbing 👀🙄

When he pulls out Landell's heart. I just love that scene and love Casteel's "Nobody insults my wife" moment! I mean sure they're not married yet, but *Ben Wyatt meme* it's about the energy!

Honestly just need like the whole time they're in New Haven, in general. Seeing all of Casteel's internal conflict and his thought process as his feelings for Poppy deepen and his whole plan unravels and he struggles with what to do. And how he goes from I'm gonna use her to I'm gonna marry her. The poor simp!

The emotional argument he and Poppy have in Spessa's end where they finally start to hash things out and he says "I didn’t plan on being drawn to you. I didn’t plan to want you. I didn’t plan on risking everything to keep you. I didn’t...." and he get's interrupted by Emil. Because I KNOW he was going to say I didn't plan on ... LOVING YOU!! I know it! And even if it turns out he wasn't gonna say that, he was!

When they first return to Atlantia and Poppy leaves to go see the temple of Nyktos. I wanna see Casteel's reaction to the sky starting to rain red and all the Wolven suddenly shifting and tearing off towards the temple and him being like "Poppy!" and his panic realising something's happening and she's in trouble. And I need to see the moment he comes up the temple stairs and see's her and realises what she is and bows 😭

When Poppy gets hit with the bolt. Because again, the pain, the drama, the angst, Casteel crying!!

And the number one scene that I absolutely need from Casteel's pov... When he wakes up from the poisoned arrow and finds Poppy gone and GOES ABSOLUTELY FERAL, to the point where both Kieran and Casteel's father have never seen him like that before!!

[randomnameless]

I'd almost buy Edel's "fuck your feelings. toughen up" speech towards Byleth to be about her motivating them to find a goal and put aside their grief if she also didn't say "promise to reach for my hand when I need to move forward uwu". And at the point, it becomes clear what this is ultimately about. Her disliking others' weakness especially when it hinders her.

I'd say,

This "tough up" method is oddly consistent with what we know of Supreme Leader and how she considers Billy.

FEH got a ton of flak for the 4 Koma, but Flamey tries to recruit people with "low sense of selves", which means, Flamey tried to recruit Billy because Flamey thought Billy had no sense of self, and was/felt so detached that they would be willing to be only used as a weapon.

This is what Supreme Leader tells them in Tru Piss, with the delicacy of a hammer, to her, Billy is someone "like her", someone who is detached from the others (when we know it's not true, and how much Billy craves for bonds and companionship and how they hate the detached self they present to the world and the fitting nickname "Ashen Demon").

So maybe Supreme Leader thought she got a good read on Billy : they are someone without any sense of self or goal, so to prop them up, she gives them a new goal : help and assist her.

It is a bit self-centered (but what can you expect from Adrestia's head??) but it sorts of work, and it also makes me wonder about Emile - apparently Supreme Leader was fully aware the Death Knight existed, but didn't give a fuck as long as she could use the DK to reach her goals, even if we know Emile doesn't like "being" the DK.

I think I started to see Emile under a sort of new light (even if it's stil subdued because kittens and ice cream) in Nopes, through his Catherine Support. Basically Emile (who defected) doesn't care about dying, and Catherine refuses to help him with his death wish. Emile is disappointed, because he thought Catherine could kill both him and the DK, and she's merciless for telling him to stop looking for death, but look for life instead.

But when Emile was the DK under Supreme Leader's command? He wanted to find powerful foes to fight with, until one of them died - far from making Emile realise he can still look for something else than death (thus giving him a reason to live), Flamey is content enough with having a powerful peon without any sense of self or preservation at her command.

And in a way, considering Tru Piss and how FEH depicts her, I'd say she had the same plans in store for Billy - but without any malice because I think Supreme Leader genuinely believes serving her IdEaLs is a good calling for anybody!

[chilapis]

hello i saw this genshin image get posted and wanted you to see ⬇️

I LOVE HIM? He looks like such a distinguished gentleman… the hand in his pocket, the outfit, the colour palette; I’m so obsessed with his hat especially; the accents and detail in it… I love when they customise hats like so, giving them certain decorations to represent something, such as his mask in this case. Oh how I adore him <3 Also his little brother? He looks so excited to be there I could just cry. Men who are good with children have my whole heart and Ajax is devouring it whole as we speak. Thank you for this lovely gift.

Also, Hi Emile!! Hello, I hope you’re well, and that you’ve been seeing to your needs: hydrating, resting up, stretching, everything. I just realised I never mentioned this publicly but I’ve been slowly getting into HSR, I started it maybe two days ago per the insistence of a friend. Which mean that (eventually, as I reach your guy’s part) I’ll be able to bother you in your inbox as well. So ! Watch out for that. <3

[sizzleissues]

Thoughts on conformation and recreation

Going to put heavy spoilers and theory stuff under a cut but just starting off saying I liked it. I do feel negative about certain aspects but I’m 90% certain that was intended. We’re supposed to be going ‘wait a minute’ about this ending.

The action was amazing and the animation gorgeous in parts. I really like BugNoire’s design.

Overall it didn’t disappoint me which I feel is the only thing and ending shouldn’t do. You can happy, mad, sad etc. about an ending but those emotions are most of the time intentional. But if it comes with disappointment then something has gone wrong. (Excluding minor stuff)

Anyway time to get specific

I love the mystery we still have with all that happened. I think it’s concluded what needed to end and left us with questions to answer in the following two seasons.

Are we supposed to think this was a ‘good/happy’ ending?

What’s up with Gimmi?

Will Marinette tell Adrien/ will Adrien find out and how will it impact both of them?

Is it Emilie or Amelie?

Who the heck visited Lila at the end?

What’s going to happen next?

Those are the questions I see people asking and trying to answer. None of those questions feel unanswerable and it’s plenty of fodder for speculation and fics in the coming year as we wait for season 6. I do want to know whether the special is pre or post season 5 because that will definitely affect things. I can’t see the reveal happening in a special but it’s certainly something to think about.

I think what made the finale special is the many layers it has, things that at first viewing you might miss. For example I saw someone in the last hour point out Marinette quite literally had a nightmare about what would happen if she reacted harshly (aka killed that motherfucker gabe) towards Monarch. Even though Marinette is shown to be an empathetic character and would probably try to talk it out anyway if she saw victory through it, that nightmare definitely pushed her to be more trusting.

In a way it worked. I believe that Gabriel’s wish was to trade his life for Nathalie’s and be able to join Emile. Marinette’s passion sort of proved to him that there were people who cared about Adrien still around even though he’d run out of time by the time he’d realised that neither Emile or Adrien wanted this.

He’s still a villain, he died a villain but that minor change of heart (as he said to Gimmi for his desire to simply read his heart) ensured Adrien would have Nathalie as a parental figure, maybe even bringing Amelie over to take more active care in her nephew and the freedom to be with Marinette, a girl who proved in Gabriel’s last moments that she would love Adrien no matter what. He’s still a villain in that his narcism demanded Marinette not to reveal the truth, remade the world to praise him for his sacrifice and probably a whole bunch of other issues that will unravel in season 6.

(In terms of him and Emile ascending, I don’t believe Gabriel got to go to ‘heaven’ or dragged Emile down to ‘hell’. He just got to be with her and got to have a peaceful death where they can be buried side by side. He isn’t getting an eternal reward for this.)

((If turns out to be Emile alive we’ll just have to see))

Whatever happened, there is obviously something wrong with this new world. It goes against all the motifs set up in previous episodes. I agree with the consensus that we are not supposed to feel entirely good about this ending. Uneasy for the future, nervous for Adrienette, curious about how it’ll unfold.

My feelings about the finale will probably change with season 6 coming out.

(Istg if when Lila-moth is taken down it’s not both Adrien and Marinette I will scream. Let them defeat her together. I get why they couldn’t be together for Gabriel, Adrien would still freak (especially with the nightmares) and he’s still under Gabriel’s control. I’d hoped they’d make it work but I think all the previous reveals/endings proved they couldn’t both take him down. Adrien would be made too fragile and Gabriel is difficult to reason with. I think the only thing that made him a little bit more able to listen to reason was because he was dying so the wish would have had to fix that too etc.)

[dailyanarchistposts]

J.3.8 What is anarcho-syndicalism?

Anarcho-syndicalism (as mentioned in section A.3.2) is a form of anarchism which applies itself (primarily) to creating industrial unions organised in an anarchist manner, using anarchist tactics (such as direct action) to create a free society. To quote “The Principles of Revolutionary Syndicalism” of the International Workers Association:

“Revolutionary Syndicalism is that movement of the working classes founded on the basis of class war, which strives for the union of manual and intellectual workers in economic fighting organisations, in order to prepare for and realise in practice their liberation from the yoke of wage-slavery and state oppression. Its goal is the reorganisation of social life on the basis of free communism through the collective revolutionary action of the working classes themselves. It takes the view that only the economic organisations of the proletariat are appropriate for the realisation of this task and turns therefore to the workers in their capacity as producers and generators of social value, in opposition to the modern political labour parties, which for constructive economic purpose do not come into consideration.” [quoted by Wayne Thorpe, “The Workers Themselves”, p. 322]

The word “syndicalism” is an English rendering of the French for “revolutionary trade unionism” (“syndicalisme revolutionarie”). In the 1890s many anarchists in France started to work within the trade union movement, radicalising it from within. As the ideas of autonomy, direct action, the general strike and political independence of unions which where associated with the French Confederation Generale du Travail (CGT, or General Confederation of Labour) spread across the world (partly through anarchist contacts, partly through word of mouth by non-anarchists who were impressed by the militancy of the CGT), the word “syndicalism” was used to describe movements inspired by the example of the CGT. Thus “syndicalism,” “revolutionary syndicalism” and “anarcho-syndicalism” all basically mean “revolutionary unionism” (the term “industrial unionism” used by the IWW essentially means the same thing).

The main difference is between revolutionary syndicalism and anarcho-syndicalism, with anarcho-syndicalism arguing that revolutionary syndicalism concentrates too much on the workplace and, obviously, stressing the anarchist roots and nature of syndicalism more than the former. In addition, anarcho-syndicalism is often considered compatible with supporting a specific anarchist organisation to complement the work of the revolutionary unions. Revolutionary syndicalism, in contrast, argues that the syndicalist unions are sufficient in themselves to create libertarian socialism and rejects anarchist groups along with political parties. However, the dividing line can be unclear and, just to complicate things even more, some syndicalists support political parties and are not anarchists (there have been a few Marxist syndicalists, for example) but we will ignore these in our discussion. We will use the term syndicalism to describe what each branch has in common.

The syndicalist union is a self-managed industrial union (see section J.5.2) which is committed to direct action and refuses links with political parties, even labour or “socialist” ones. A key idea of syndicalism is that of union autonomy — the idea that the workers’ organisation is capable of changing society by its own efforts, that it must control its own fate and not be controlled by any party or other outside group (including anarchist federations). This is sometimes termed

“workerism” (from the French

“ouverierisme”), i.e. workers’ control of the class struggle and their own organisations. Rather than being a cross-class organisation like the political party, the union is a class organisation and is so uniquely capable of representing working class aspirations, interests and hopes. “The syndicat,” Emile Pouget wrote, “groups together those who work against those who live by human exploitation: it brings together interests and not opinions.” [quoted by Jeremy Jennings, Syndicalism in France, pp. 30–1] There is, then, “no place in it for anybody who was not a worker. Professional middle class intellectuals who provided both the leadership and the ideas of the socialist political movement, were therefore at a discount. As a consequence the syndicalist movement was, and saw itself as, a purely working class form of socialism.” Syndicalism “appears as the great heroic movement of the proletariat, the first movement which took seriously” the argument “that the emancipation of the working class must be the task of labour unaided by middle class intellectuals or by politicians and aimed to establish a genuinely working class socialism and culture, free of all bourgeois taints. For the syndicalists, the workers were to be everything, the rest, nothing.” [Geoffrey Ostergaard, The Tradition of Workers’ Control, p. 38]

Therefore syndicalism is “consciously anti-parliamentary and anti-political. It focuses not only on the realities of power but also on the key problem of achieving its disintegration. Real power in syndicalist doctrine is economic power. The way to dissolve economic power is to make every worker powerful, thereby eliminating power as a social privilege. Syndicalism thus ruptures all the ties between the workers and the state. It opposes political action, political parties, and any participant in political elections. Indeed it refuses to operate in the framework of the established order and the state. It “turns to direct action — strikes, sabotage, obstruction, and above all, the revolutionary general strike. Direct action not only perpetuates the militancy of the workers and keeps alive the spirit of revolt, but awakens in them a greater sense of individual initiative. By continual pressure, direct action tests the strength of the capitalist system at all times and presumably in its most important arena — the factory, where ruled and ruler seem to confront each other most directly.” [Murray Bookchin, The Spanish Anarchists, p. 121]

This does not mean that syndicalism is “apolitical” in the sense of ignoring totally all political issues. This is a Marxist myth. Syndicalists follow other anarchists by being opposed to all forms of authoritarian/capitalist politics but do take a keen interest in “political” questions as they relate to the interests of working people. Thus they do not “ignore” the state, or the role of the state. Indeed, syndicalists (like all libertarians) are well aware that the state exists to protect capitalist property and power and that we need to combat it as well as fight for economic improvements. In short, syndicalism is deeply political in the widest sense of the word, aiming for a radical change in political, economic and social conditions and institutions. Moreover, it is political in the narrower sense of being aware of political issues and aiming for political reforms along with economic ones. It is only “apolitical” when it comes to supporting political parties and using bourgeois political institutions, a position which is “political” in the wider sense of course! This is obviously identical to the usual anarchist position (see section J.2.10).

Which indicates an importance difference between syndicalism and trade unionism. Syndicalism aims at changing society rather than just working within it. Thus syndicalism is revolutionary while trade unionism is reformist. For syndicalists the union “has a double aim: with tireless persistence, it must pursue betterment of the working class’s current conditions. But, without letting themselves become obsessed with this passing concern, the workers should take care to make possible and imminent the essential act of comprehensive emancipation: the expropriation of capital.” Thus syndicalism aims to win reforms by direct action and by this struggle bring the possibilities of a revolution, via the general strike, closer. Indeed any “desired improvement is to be wrested directly from the capitalist” and “must always represent a reduction in capitalist privileges and be a partial expropriation.” [Emile Pouget, No Gods, No Masters, vol. 2, p. 71 and p. 73] Thus Emma Goldman:

“Of course Syndicalism, like the old trade unions, fights for immediate gains, but it is not stupid enough to pretend that labour can expect humane conditions from inhumane economic arrangements in society. Thus it merely wrests from the enemy what it can force him to yield; on the whole, however, Syndicalism aims at, and concentrates its energies upon, the complete overthrow of the wage system. “Syndicalism goes further: it aims to liberate labour from every institution that has not for its object the free development of production for the benefit of all humanity. In short, the ultimate purpose of Syndicalism is to reconstruct society from its present centralised, authoritative and brutal state to one based upon the free, federated grouping of the workers along lines of economic and social liberty. “With this object in view, Syndicalism works in two directions: first, by undermining the existing institutions; secondly, by developing and educating the workers and cultivating their spirit of solidarity, to prepare them for a full, free life, when capitalism shall have been abolished. “Syndicalism is, in essence, the economic expression of Anarchism.” [Red Emma Speaks, p. 91]

Which, in turn, explains why syndicalist unions are structured in such an obviously libertarian way. It reflects the importance of empowering every worker by creating a union which is decentralised and self-managed, a union which every member plays a key role in determining its policy and activities. Participation ensures that the union becomes a “school for the will” (to use Pouget’s expression) and allows working people to learn how to govern themselves and so do without the state. After the revolution, the union can easily be transformed into the body by which production is organised. The aim of the union is workers’ self-management of production and distribution after the revolution, a self-management which the union is based upon in the here and now. The syndicalist union is seen as “the germ of the Socialist economy of the future, the elementary school of Socialism in general” and we need to “plant these germs while there is yet time and bring them to the strongest possible development, so as to make the task of the coming social revolution easier and to insure its permanence.” [Rocker, Op. Cit., p. 59]

Thus, as can be seen, syndicalism differs from trade unionism in its structure, its methods and its aims. Its structure, method and aims are distinctly anarchist. Little wonder leading syndicalist theorist Fernand Pelloutier argued that the trade union, “governing itself along anarchic lines,” must become ��a practical schooling in anarchism.” [No Gods, No Masters, vol. 2, p. 55 and p. 57] In addition, most anarcho-syndicalists support community organisations and struggle alongside the more traditional industry based approach usually associated within syndicalism. While we have concentrated on the industrial side here (simply because this is a key aspect of syndicalism) we must stress that syndicalism can and does lend itself to community struggles. It is a myth that anarcho-syndicalism ignores community struggles and organisation, as can be seen from the history of the Spanish CNT for example (see section J.5.1).

It must be stressed that a syndicalist union is open to all workers regardless of their political opinions (or lack of them). The union exists to defend workers’ interests as workers and is organised in an anarchist manner to ensure that their interests are fully expressed. This means that an syndicalist organisation is different from an organisation of syndicalists. What makes the union syndicalist is its structure, aims and methods. Obviously things can change (that is true of any organisation which has a democratic structure) but that is a test revolutionary and anarcho-syndicalists welcome and do not shirk from. As the union is self-managed from below up, its militancy and political content is determined by its membership. As Pouget put it, the union “offers employers a degree of resistance in geometric proportion with the resistance put up by its members.” [Op. Cit., p. 71] That is why syndicalists ensure that power rests in the members of the union.

Syndicalists have two main approaches to building revolutionary unions --

“dual unionism” and

“boring from within.” The former approach involves creating new, syndicalist, unions, in opposition to the existing trade unions. This approach was historically and is currently the favoured way of building syndicalist unions (American, Italian, Spanish, Swedish and numerous other syndicalists built their own union federations in the heyday of syndicalism between 1900 and 1920). “Boring from within” simply means working within the existing trade unions in order to reform them and make them syndicalist. This approach was favoured by French and British syndicalists, plus a few American ones. However, these two approaches are not totally in opposition. Many of the dual unions were created by syndicalists who had first worked within the existing trade unions. Once they got sick of the bureaucratic union machinery and of trying to reform it, they split from the reformist unions and formed new, revolutionary, ones. Similarly, dual unionists will happily support trade unionists in struggle and often be “two carders” (i.e. members of both the trade union and the syndicalist one). See section J.5.3 for more on anarchist perspectives on existing trades unions.

Syndicalists no matter what tactics they prefer, favour autonomous workplace organisations, controlled from below. Both tend to favour syndicalists forming networks of militants to spread anarchist/syndicalist ideas within the workplace. Indeed, such a network (usually called “Industrial Networks” — see section J.5.4 for more details) would be an initial stage and essential means for creating syndicalist unions. These groups would encourage syndicalist tactics and rank and file organisation during struggles and so create the potential for building syndicalist unions as libertarian ideas spread and are seen to work.

Syndicalists think that such an organisation is essential for the successful creation of an anarchist society as it builds the new world in the shell of the old, making a sizeable majority of the population aware of anarchism and the benefits of anarchist forms of organisation and struggle. Moreover, they argue that those who reject syndicalism “because it believes in a permanent organisation of workers” and urge “workers to organise ‘spontaneously’ at the very moment of revolution” promote a “con-trick, designed to leave ‘the revolutionary movement,’ so called, in the hands of an educated class … [or] so-called ‘revolutionary party’ … [which] means that the workers are only expected to come in the fray when there’s any fighting to be done, and in normal times leave theorising to the specialists or students.” [Albert Meltzer, Anarchism: Arguments for and Against, pp. 82–3] A self-managed society can only be created by self-managed means, and as only the practice of self-management can ensure its success, the need for libertarian popular organisations is essential. Syndicalism is seen as the key way working people can prepare themselves for revolution and learn to direct their own lives. In this way syndicalism creates a true politics of the people, one that does not create a parasitic class of politicians and bureaucrats (“We wish to emancipate ourselves, to free ourselves”, Pelloutier wrote, “but we do not wish to carry out a revolution, to risk our skin, to put Pierre the socialist in the place of Paul the radical” [quoted by Jeremy Jennings, Syndicalism in France, p. 17]).

This does not mean that syndicalists do not support organisations spontaneously created by workers’ in struggle (such as workers’ councils, factory committees and so on). Far from it. Syndicalists have played important roles in these kinds of organisation (as can be seen from the Russian Revolution, the factory occupations in Italy in 1920, the British Shop Steward movement and so on). This is because syndicalism acts as a catalyst to militant labour struggles and serves to counteract class-collaborationist tendencies by union bureaucrats and “socialist” politicians. Part of this activity must involve encouraging self-managed organisations where none exist and so syndicalists support and encourage all such spontaneous movements, hoping that they turn into the basis of a syndicalist union movement or a successful revolution. Moreover, most anarcho-syndicalists recognise that it is unlikely that every worker, nor even the majority, will be in syndicalist unions before a revolutionary period starts. This means new organisations, created spontaneously by workers in struggle, would have to be the framework of social struggle and the post-capitalist society rather than the syndicalist union as such. All the syndicalist union can do is provide a practical example of how to organise in a libertarian way within capitalism and statism and support spontaneously created organisations.

It should be noted that while the term “syndicalism” dates from the 1890s in France, the ideas associated with these names have a longer history. Anarcho-syndicalist ideas have developed independently in many different countries and times. Indeed, anyone familiar with Bakunin’s work will quickly see that much of his ideas prefigure what was latter to become known by these terms. Similarly, we find that the American International Working People’s Association organised by anarchists in the 1880s “anticipated by some twenty years the doctrine of anarcho-syndicalism” and ”[m]ore than merely resembling the ‘Chicago Idea’ [of the IWPA], the IWW’s principles of industrial unionism resulted from the conscious efforts of anarchists … who continued to affirm … the principles which the Chicago anarchists gave their lives defending.” [Salvatore Salerno, Red November, Black November, p. 51 and p. 79] See section H.2.8 for a discussion of why Marxist claims that syndicalism and anarchism are unrelated are obviously false.

(We must stress that we are not arguing that Bakunin “invented” syndicalism. Far from it. Rather, we are arguing that Bakunin expressed ideas already developed in working class circles and became, if you like, the “spokesperson” for these libertarian tendencies in the labour movement as well as helping to clarifying these ideas in many ways. As Emma Goldman argued, the “feature which distinguishes Syndicalism from most philosophies is that it represents the revolutionary philosophy of labour conceived and born in the actual struggle and experience of workers themselves — not in universities, colleges, libraries, or in the brain of some scientists.” [Op. Cit., pp. 88–9] This applies equally to Bakunin and the first International).

Given this, we must also point out here that while syndicalism has anarchist roots, not all syndicalists are anarchists. A few Marxists have been syndicalists, particularly in the USA where the followers of Daniel De Leon supported Industrial Unionism and helped form the Industrial Workers of the World. The Irish socialist James Connelly was also a Marxist-syndicalist, as was Big Bill Haywood who was a leader of the IWW and a leading member of the US Socialist Party. Marxist-syndicalists are generally in favour of more centralisation within syndicalist unions (the IWW was by far the most centralised syndicalist union) and often argue that a political party is required to complement the work of the union. Needless to say, anarcho-syndicalists disagree, arguing that centralisation kills the spirit of revolt and weakens a unions real strength and that political parties are both ineffective when compared to militant unionism and a constant source of corruption. [Rocker, Op. Cit., pp. 55–60] So not all syndicalists are anarchists, leading those anarchists who are syndicalists often use the term “anarcho-syndicalism” to indicate that they are both anarchists and syndicalists as well as to stress the libertarian roots and syndicalism. In addition, not all anarchists are syndicalists. We discuss the reasons for this in the next section.

For more information on anarcho-syndicalist ideas, Rudolf Rocker’s Anarcho-Syndicalism is still the classic introduction to the subject. The collection of articles by British syndicalist Tom Brown entitled Syndicalism is also worth reading. Daniel Guerin’s No Gods, No Masters contains articles by leading French syndicalist thinkers.

[cemetery-irises]

Not being able to process language sometimes, needing it repeated several times to get it

There's something so visceral about this imagery. The sun is bright and warm but also bad and scary. So is the world. It's spinning, I can't keep myself upright. Does the last line mean a muzzle? (Since several of them had parts that fit in your mouth to shut you up?)

(enumeration is pretty much listing things separately) The lyrics are seemingly nonsensical here but there's definitely a through line. Probably a collection of different memories. Specifically of the plan (eating and handcrafting theory) playing piano (fingers crawl across and playing) and the lobotomy (dyed [with blood and/or medicine] and used it for an infestation)

Very confused as to whether they're a dog by now or not. Treated completely differently by staff and patients, maybe it's just easier to be a dog that obeys than stress yourself about what everyone else is doing.

Guess who didn't realise the lobotomy made them worse until things got VERY bad! The doctors! (Help)

She wanted to escape with him. We're happier with anyone else. Frazzled nerves and pale skin slip out of the asylum one night and never return.

Ah, stimulants. It was not pleasant. We thought of her the whole time. Maybe she'd be there to torture us with that damned whistle again... Be careful not to let the staff catch you. They might break you even more.

Did they die that night, when the doctors broke us? With how broken the memories are, it's likely. That's the way it is, they said. It really wasn't.

Bewildered at freedom, and yet happy all the same.

emil for a song that was. iirc entitely ai generated. you fit this so well shaking you rn