#seventh pay scale

[celestefox13]

So..... can we talk about how Sphene is a foil to Shadowbringers G'raha?

Like, under slightly different circumstances, or if he started to doubt his plan having a chance at success, he could've distressingly easily become like Sphene.

He admits to how he tried everything he could think of to save the WoL on the gondola ride. And the unspoken part, that perhaps even he doesn't consciously realize or want to acknowledge, is that he did everything he could think of without violating his morals. He held onto lines he wouldn't cross.

But what if he hadn't? What if his poor heart finally broke and he decided the means were justified if it meant saving the one person he wanted to save?

Or what if Emet got to him and figured him out sooner and managed to get the idea in his head that an umbral calamity would be a small price to pay if it meant saving the WoL?

The scale is arguably smaller, and much more intimate and close to the heart, than Sphene, but the steps to lead to that alternate timeline where our precious G'raha Tia burns the world and beyond if it means saving us was probably a lot closer than we ever dare consider.

The fact that he managed to endure and save everything that he did while going through all of the research about what leads up to the WoL's death in the world he woke up to, and didn't lose his morals in the pursuit of saving the WoL is an impressive display of mental and emotional fortitude.

But his poor heart. All those years of stress and frustration whenever a wall was hit, or an idea didn't work out when applied even in theory.

Their desperation levels even reach similar points. Because on every try to pull the WoL to the First, there IS desperation in his voice, increasingly so with each attempt. The try that finally works, he rushes to where they land because he has to be sure. He has to see with his own eyes to confirm that this plan that he finally landed on after YEARS of hard work and research is at least working on step 1. That he's finally gained a foothold on his goal.

And what a blessing that that plan didn't end up like Sphene's. That he never hit a point where the thought of "by any means necessary" truly meant by ANY means necessary. But now I wonder and worry about how close he may have been to that edge.

"This tragedy, even greater than the Seventh Umbral Calamity, must be undone. If history must be unwritten, let it be unwritten." - G'raha Tia about his goal to save the WoL

"For them I will do anything. If bloodshed will save my subjects, I will become history's most brutal Queen." - Sphene about her goal to save the Endless

[cursedonyx]

Hii! I saw your ideas for one shots you posted recently and I would absolutely LOVE to read all of them, but especially the one with Ominis, where Garreth slips Ominis his new potion and MC is helping Ominis with its 'hard' effects 🤭

So if you have time and if you'd want to write it, I would love to read it! ❤️

I have FINALLY gotten around to doing this ask, and as I’d had this in my drafts for ages I thought why not make it an eleventh-hour post for Kinktober too? I would have done more for Kinktober but, like our favourite old faithful that hasn’t been charged in a while, my smut battery was firmly depleted for quite some time.

This doesn’t follow any specific Kinktober prompt, but what the hell, hopefully you all enjoy this little tale of poor Ominis being utterly humiliated and thoroughly fucked.

Masterlist

Don’t Drug Your Friends

(Unless They’re Ominis and in Need of a Good Fucking)

Synopsis – After a multitude of experimental potions and a variety of undesirable effects, no one at Hogwarts wants to be a guineapig for Garreth’s new brews. In desperation, Garreth resorts to underhanded methods in order to test his newest concoction, and slips it into Ominis’ tea. Unfortunately for the poor Heir of Slytherin, the effects are both humiliating and unconquerable until the woman he’s secretly been in love with for the last two years offers to help put the proverbial basilisk back to sleep.

Word Count – 4.9k

Warnings – Female MC, House unspecified, NSFW, MDNI, dubcon, drugging, masturbation, handjob M!Receiving, oral M!Receiving, PIV, and a very embarrassed and needy Sub!Ominis.

All characters aged 18+.

Happy Kinktober.

Springtime at Hogwarts was a time for most students to pretend they were studying, as they instead dreamt about who they were going to ask on a date to Hogsmeade for Valentines, gossiped about the latest scandals, or got hyped for Quidditch. For the seventh years, it was a time to begin to panic about their upcoming exams and pretend they weren’t.

For Garreth Weasley, it was more a struggle than for most. Since the end of sixth year, when he’d convinced Lucan Brattleby to try his latest potion, and the poor lad had ended up in the Hospital Wing with scales, feathers, and the ability to burp luminous, sausage-like bubbles that took days to pop, the entirety of Gryffindor House had put a blanket ban on accepting so much as a biscuit from him. The other houses learned very quickly after this that no matter how much gold he offered, no matter how many favours, no matter how much he begged, it just wasn’t worth spending a week in hospital for.

But Garreth knew the only way to discover ✨The Perfect Potion™✨ was to practice, practice, practice, and in order to make sure his experiments actually achieved what he thought they should, he needed to test them. He always made sure he had a few poison antidotes on hand just in case, so he wasn’t entirely sure what all the fuss was about.

So it was that Sebastian and Ominis found themselves accosted by the boisterous redhead one early February morning in their seventh year, in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Seriously, Sallow, I’ll pay you fifty galleons. Fifty! Think what you could do with that money!”

“Fuck off,” came the terse reply. “I said no eight times already, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“But if I can get this to work ahead of Valentines-”

“Unclog your ears, Weasley, he said no,” Ominis said, using his wand to pour a cup of tea with the cool indifference only a Slytherin pureblood seemed able to master.

Garreth narrowed his eyes. “I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance, Gaunt. Heard your family’s fallen on hard times.”

“It’s no secret,” Ominis said, supremely unbothered. Then, a tiny smirk touched his lips. “That said, I’m surprised you’ve got fifty galleons to offer in your entire family’s account.”

Unlike Ominis, Garreth was just a little bit touchy about his family’s fortunes. He needed to make this potion work ahead of Valentine’s so he could sell it for a huge profit! It would be so popular and he’d be rich and famous and would be able to make sure all his family were comfortable, what was so wrong about that?

Perhaps this was why Garreth decided to do what he did. Maybe he was just in a bad mood and wanted to cause a bit of trouble. Or maybe, just maybe, he was having withdrawals from seeing his potions at work and was determined to do anything to get his creation tested. He pretended to see Peeves causing havoc on the other side of the Tower, and when Sebastian turned to look, he upended the tiny, pink potion into Ominis’ tea.

He shared a grin with Leander, and groped for a notepad as Ominis picked up his cup.

“Alright, fine, suit yourselves. But it would have made an absolute killing, and I’d have given you commission for your help,” he said, trying to be nonchalant.

“Whatever.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I’ve enough to be worrying about without dealing with beetles falling out of my ears, thanks.”

Ominis shook his head and sipped his tea, closing his eyes at the warmth that slid past his lips and down his throat. He let his mind wander a little, and as it always did when he let it have some form of free reign, it landed squarely on the most incredible woman he’d ever known, the Hero of Hogwarts, for whom he had harboured a secret, burning love since their ill-fated trip to the Scriptorium.

A slim line appeared between his brows as the warmth from the tea seemed to settle under his collar, before spreading over his chest, creeping down his torso to pool between his thighs, and something began to stir.

Ominis, like any other man of his age, was no stranger to random bouts of wilful disobedience from his personal basilisk, and so he elected to ignore it, crossing an elegant leg over the other, hoping no one else had noticed. He took a slow breath and another drink, wondering vaguely why this particular standing to attention was coupled with something that felt concerningly like arousal. Yes, thinking of her certainly fired him up him like nothing else did, but he hadn’t been thinking of anything particularly ungentlemanly. He was in public, after all.

His hands tightened on his cup as the unspecified heat began to intensify, his half-mast blooming full, and as he heard Garreth leaning forward in his chair, and the scratch of quill on parchment, he began to put two and two together.

Uh-oh.

“Soooo…” Garreth said, in a voice so overly casual that it sent a thrill of fear through anyone in the vicinity that had recently had a drink. “How are we all feeling today? Normal? Bit hot under the collar? Thinking of anyone in particular?”

Ominis faced him, quite certain that steam might be curling up from under his shirt as his heart began to pound.

“What have you done?” he managed.

Garreth laughed. “Only what I had to. Don’t worry, the effects won’t last more than a few hours. I think.”

There was a clatter as Sebastian lunged across the low table, followed by a smash as the teapot shattered. Garreth yelped as Sebastian gripped handfuls of his robes and wrenched him out of his seat.

“What did you do?” he demanded, snarling.

“I needed to test my potion,” Garreth said, shoving him back. “Just slipped him a bit, that’s all!”

“What the fuck do you mean, you slipped him a bit!?” Sebastian barked. “What the hell is it meant to do?”

“I’m not sure yet, that’s why I needed to test it,” Garreth said, proudly. “It’s only a variant of a love potion that’s meant to make anyone you like want you in bed, nothing to worry about. Gaunt, tell me exactly what you’re feeling, spare no detail.”

“Are you insane?” Ominis hissed, hunching forward as his arousal twitched, nudging insistently against his belt and threatening to pop right out over the top of his waistband. “You better have an antidote for this, you cretin!”

Garreth gulped and edged behind Leander as Sebastian drew his wand, aiming it at his nethers. “Antidote? It’s only in the testing stages, I’ve not had time to-” he yelped as Sebastian fired a curse at him, and Leander had to put out a small fire on his robes.

Ominis felt his cheeks sear as another thrum of unspecified interest surged through him, his mouth drying. There was an insistent, needy ache growing in his lower abdomen, and he got the feeling that if he didn’t take care of it soon, he was going to be in serious trouble. It didn’t help that he could sense his friends staring at him, Garreth’s lack of subtlety and his shortening breath all but confirming the state he was in.

“Undercroft,” he managed to growl to Sebastian out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t follow me.”

“You okay?” Sebastian asked, as Ominis tugged his robes tight about himself and rose.

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, trying to stand as casually as he could without revealing his significantly growing problem. “Do try not to kill that little bastard while I’m gone, I’d like to do it myself.”

The cool of the Undercroft’s stone walls did little to alleviate the heat in his body as Ominis shouldered his way through the hidden entrance, his pace increasing as he half ran towards a stack of crates at the back, positioned deliberately to hide a pile of cushions and blankets for the rare instances when he just couldn’t ignore his body’s needs. Ominis hissed between his teeth and turned his wand about the Undercroft, hoping that she wasn’t down here. Merlin, he’d never live it down if she saw him like this.

Hell, it was embarrassing enough to be in this predicament, but for his friends to know as well! The thought scalded him, making him cringe. It was worse that they knew why he’d gone off by himself. Yes, everybody did it, but that didn’t mean everyone should bloody know about it when he did! It was hard enough to find alone time as it was, but for anyone else to know… Ominis groaned. With the way gossip spread, the whole bloody castle would know that the infamously stoic Ominis Gaunt had needed to dash off and have a wank by the time he reemerged, if his past luck was anything to go by.

No matter. The state he was in, it wouldn’t take long, and then he could try and forget about the whole, sordid mess. After he’d murdered Garreth, of course.

He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth, bracing a hand against the wall as his mind flooded with thoughts of her, as it always did when he needed to attend to himself. He focused on the faint brush of her hand against the back of his when they studied together, her fingertips cool as she handed him a book or stack of parchment, each light touch sending sparks through his skin that never failed to stiffen his cock. He whimpered softly as he recalled those few times he let her embrace him, his attention always zeroing in on how her ample breasts pressed against his chest, his hands resting just above the curve of her hip. What he wouldn’t give to feel these things without the cursed barrier of her clothes…

And Merlin, the sound of her voice, low and rich, some sultry note always winding about underneath it, as if she was but a moment away from singing or whispering nothing but sinful filth into his ear, her dark chuckles, the freedom of her laughter never failing to set his heart to racing.

Then the scent of her hair… citrus and exotic blossoms from some far off, sun-drenched land infused his mind as he wished and wished he knew what it was like to have those silken strands fall over his face as she rode him.

Ominis fought with his belt and the fastenings of his trousers, unable to stop thinking about her, imagining all those things she could do to him that would only ever be in his mind. She was too good for him, too perfect, too glorious, but it never hurt to imagine. Imagination never hurt anyone. His lower lip found its way between his teeth as he took himself in his hand, instinctively setting up a rapid pace that, when he’d been this worked up before, had brought him blissful relief in little under a minute.

But something was wrong. He could feel his hand sliding along his length, feel the pressure as he tightened his grip, but it brought him about as much relief as sticking it in a jar of numbing potion would have.

“Oh, come on,” Ominis hissed, gripping himself tighter in a vain effort to evoke some of the promised euphoria such an act usually provided him, even going so far as to spit in his palm, but it didn’t work. To his horror, it served only to heighten his need, and brought him no relief.

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

Almost an hour later, Ominis emerged, limping and red-faced, his breathing ragged and his hair dishevelled, his cloak pulled tight about his body.

“Well?” Garreth asked, eagerly, quill and notepad at the ready.

“Piss off,” Ominis snarled. “If you can’t get me an antidote in the next five minutes then what good are you?”

Sebastian shouldered Garreth out of the way and leaned in close.

“No better?”

“Fuck off. I don’t want anyone near me.”

“What about New Girl?” Leander piped up, clearly enjoying himself far more than was appropriate for the Slytherin’s suffering. “Bet you wouldn’t mind her being around you right now.”

Ominis spat a string of violent curses in Parseltongue at the thought of the Hero of Hogwarts assisting him with his predicament once again, before he tried to push away the idea as it sent another painful thrum of arousal through him. Unfortunately, the idea of her didn’t want to be banished and remained stubbornly inside his head, doing things no self-respecting woman would ever do, let alone to him.

“She hasn’t been new for two years,” Sebastian said, placing his foot firmly on Leander’s hip and shoving him away as Ominis clung to the wall, biting his tongue to stop himself groaning. “If you’re not going to help, then sod off.” He gripped Ominis’ shoulder, leaning close, and Ominis wriggled away, hissing as his skin tingled. “Mate, maybe he’s got a point. She’s good at potions, maybe she could do something about this? Plus, you like her, and she likes-”

“Never,” Ominis growled. “She can never hear of this.”

“Okay, then maybe we should get Professor Sharp, he’d be able to-”

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone I will kill you myself!” Ominis snarled.

It was getting decidedly hard to think, and Ominis huddled against the wall, bent almost in two as wave upon wave of rising need threw itself about his insides. If he didn’t do something soon, he was either going to explode or go completely insane. It was all he could do not to grab at himself, despite the fact that he was in public and he knew that it wouldn’t help one bit.

Sebastian shared a worried look with Garreth, whose eagerness to see the effects of his potion in action had worn off upon seeing how decidedly uncomfortable Ominis was. Yeah, it had been kind of funny to see him so embarrassed, but this was a problem. How could he sell his potion if the effects were this drastic, and didn’t wear off quickly?

“Maybe just… I don’t know, try and sleep it off?” Sebastian suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry mate, I don’t know how else to help you.”

“I know a way you can,” Leander laughed, and quickly shut up as both Sebastian and Ominis glared at him, drawing their wands.

“Go up to the Room of Requirement,” Sebastian said, giving Ominis a little shove between the shoulder blades that made him yelp. “Garreth, you go too, there’s potion stations up there, and you better get to work on an antidote, or I’ll hang you off the Astronomy Tower by your balls.”

With a barely restrained whine, Ominis disillusioned himself and all but ran for the stairs, the outline of his figure vanishing as he rounded the bend. Garreth took one look at Sebastian’s murderous expression and followed, jotting notes on his parchment as he went. No sooner had he vanished than Sebastian took off, pelting through the castle, seeking the one person he hoped might be able to put an end to his brother’s suffering.

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

“How long’s he been like this?” she asked, matching Sebastian’s pace as they hurtled towards the Room of Requirement.

“A bit more than an hour or so, I think,” Sebastian panted, struggling to keep up. “It’s really bad.”

She cursed under her breath, her long, dark hair swishing to and fro. “What did Garreth say it was meant to do?”

“Turn people on so they’re easier to get into bed,” Sebastian replied, glowering. “Or words to that effect. He wants to sell it ahead of Valentine’s Day.”

She made a face, her small nose wrinkling. “Creep. As if it wasn’t bad enough having to worry about love potions. Poor Ominis.” They slowed as they reached the seventh-floor corridor, and she glanced at him. “I presume he’s… um… tried the usual methods?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I guess so. Didn’t ask, he’s embarrassed enough. He’s going to kill me when he finds out I’ve told you.”

“Me in particular?” she raised a brow, and Sebastian hesitated. It wasn’t a secret to those who knew him well that Ominis was madly in love with the woman before him, but he hadn’t thought she’d figured it out. His silence seemed to be all the answer she needed, and a little smile touched her lips. “Leave it to me. He’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

“What are you going to-” Sebastian began, but she’d vanished into the Room of Requirement before he could finish. With a low sigh, he crossed his fingers, counted to ten, then followed, finding the large space mostly empty, save for a sweaty Garreth standing before a table of five cauldrons, each of them hissing different coloured steam. His nose was bleeding.

“What happened there?” Sebastian asked, and Garreth glowered.

“That cow just punched me,” he said, thickly. “Didn’t say a damn word and ran off to the bedroom.”

Sebastian grinned. “Can’t say you didn’t deserve it.”

Garreth wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Shut up and help me with these, would you? Whatever she’s planning, I hope it works, because none of these antidotes look promising right now.”

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

Ominis twisted and writhed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His clothes lay discarded on the floor of the small room, the light satin sheets of the bed dragging across his fevered skin as he desperately sought some form of relief from the blazing need surging through his body. But no matter how much he rutted against the mattress, no matter how fervently he beat himself, he couldn’t break through the barrier between desperate desire and the enduring numbness that denied him, over and over.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed. He couldn’t say how long he’d been tangled in these sheets, moaning softly as he chased a high that tormented him as it danced away, again and again. His mind was fragmented, consumed by a primal, visceral need for relief, for this aching agony to end, for the heavens to open and just please let him come.

So scattered was he that he barely registered the door opening, the footsteps hushing over the carpet as he gripped handfuls of his hair, curled in a ball on his side. But he heard the sharp intake of breath, smelled that torturously familiar scent that was so deliciously her, and his tormented mind took on a crystal clarity as pure, unadulterated panic flashed through him.

“No, no!” he gasped. “No, not you!”

She pulled up short, her brows drawing together a little as Ominis struggled to pull the fraying threads of his brain back together.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” he whimpered softly as another agonising pang of need surged through him, intensified by the fact that it was her standing there, and he curled up tighter, his hands tensing in his hair, trying to hide his shamed face as he tried to burrow under the sheets. “I… I don’t want you to see me like this.”

She was concerningly quiet for a moment, then her footsteps sounded once more as she approached, and Ominis bit down on a high-pitched whine as she settled on the bed, her weight pulling the sheets tight against his skin. He fought not to writhe, every nerve ending on fire as he curled up tighter.

“Please… please leave,” he begged. “I-I c-can’t…”

“This needs to be fixed,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Ominis, you can’t go on like this. I want to help you.”

“Then get me a fucking antidote,” he spat, his limbs trembling as he fought to remain still. He didn’t care that he swore in front of her, something he vowed never to do in front of a lady, he was too concerned with retaining some miniscule shred of dignity. Shame and humiliation burned a torturous path through his body as he bit down on another low whine, his cock throbbing at the thought of her being so close to him, her beautiful scent, her delicious voice sending waves of primal desire through him.

She couldn’t be here. She had to leave, or he was going to do something they would both regret.

It seemed she either couldn’t sense the danger, however, or she didn’t care. She slid closer to him, a cool hand finding his shoulder, such a simple touch making his hair stand on end as he fought with himself not to grab at her. He had to maintain control, no matter how difficult. He was a gentleman, he was proper, he wasn’t one of those base louts that thought with their dicks and followed wherever they pointed, he was… he was…

Fucking hell. He was desperate for her.

Her hand tightened on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and little by little he uncurled enough to reveal his face, his skin flushed, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“You poor thing,” she murmured. “Will you let me help you?”

Her hand slid over his shoulder to his chest, and Ominis bit down on a whine. How often had he tormented himself with fantasies of this exact thing happening? It almost made him want to weep with the frustration of it all, because he knew all too well that nothing would come of this but further humiliation.

“P-please… don’t,” he whimpered as she peeled the sheets back, moving closer to him as she trailed her fingers over his stomach, the muscles contracting at her touch. “It won’t… it won’t d-do anything… I c-can’t feel-”

His next words were cut off by a yelp as the heel of her hand grazed the aching head of his length through the sheets, sending a surge of pleasure so powerful through him that it snapped his head back.

He could feel her touch.

His hands flew out, one latching onto her wrist, the other winding into her hair. She came to him willingly, her lips brushing his hesitantly for a heartbeat before he crushed his mouth to hers, moaning helplessly as she found his aching steel through the sheets, her palm curving around the shape of him.

Ominis launched up, hooking an arm around her neck, his free hand shoving at the covers. There was no longer room for hesitancy or fear or embarrassment – any last shred of lingering dignity had been eviscerated by her kiss.

All Ominis knew is that he needed to be held, to be kissed, to be touched, and to be fucked. Right. Now.

He shoved at the sheets covering him as her lips moved from his to lavish attention on the side of his neck, her hand travelling down his chest sparking through his nerves. A high, desperate whine escaped him when she showed no hesitation and wrapped her hand around his fevered length, the soothing cool of her skin a balm to his burning flesh.

Even through his maddening haze of desperation and need, Ominis was dimly aware of the inexplicable skill she displayed, each swift, twisting stroke of her hand designed by some omniscient power, it seemed, so perfectly did it make his body sing. Her pace was steady, her grip firm but not tight, and his mind went to pieces. In all his furtive, shameful imaginings of being with her at last, he had never once suspected that she would know just how perfectly to treat him.

She murmured gentle encouragement to him, her words a song of sin and fire as her touch sent him ever higher on a glittering ladder that seemed heaven bound. Ominis bucked helplessly against her, his hands alternately clutching and tugging at her clothes, knowing in some deep, primal way that the simple touch of her hand, no matter how glorious, would never be enough.

It seemed she understood this as well, for her lips left his neck, trailing down his body, each press of her lips tensing the muscles they touched. Something in the back of his mind set up a wild protest, the part of him that was still human underneath his frantic desire screaming that he would never live this down, but even this stubborn part of him was silenced when a searing heat enveloped him from head to base, hard at the edges and so deliciously soft in the centre, something long and dexterous winding about his entire length.

The sensation of her mouth on him in such a way pushed a yell that was almost a scream from deep within his lungs, flying up his throat so harshly that it roughed the edges of his voice, his hands flew to her head, winding his fingers into her hair and driving himself as deep as he could. He didn’t care that he might choke her, that he might make her wretch, he just needed more of that sensation, more of this heavenly feeling of pure euphoria.

She didn’t choke, and she didn’t retch. She tightened her lips, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard, her throat closing over the tip of him as he threw his head back, yelping in wordless ecstasy. Her arms wound around his waist as his legs fell apart, anchoring them together as her head bobbed at a steady, rapid pace, and if Ominis had the gift of sight, he would have seen the entire cosmos.

"Fuck... yes..." Ominis gasped. "Right there... don't stop, please don't stop..."

And yet it still wasn’t enough. Though each swipe of her tongue drew a whining moan from his lips like silver thread, the pulsing of her throat in time with his racing heart, his body stubbornly refused to fall over the edge upon which he teetered. Almost rabid, Ominis gripped he hair, pulling her back up to crush his lips to hers, tugging at her clothes so forcefully that her blouse tore.

In response, she pinned his wrists over his head. He had no time to protest this as she straddled him in the next moment, leaning down to capture his lips with hers once more, holding him tight with one hand as the other slid down, grasping him firmly and angling him up.

Ominis could never have imagined the euphoria that he experienced next. One moment, he was aching, spit-slick and cool in the empty air, and the next he was enveloped in searing satin and silken fire. If her mouth had been the cosmos, this was heaven itself. He could barely draw breath to moan as she seated him fully inside her, and even through his primal haze, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t understand it, that he, Ominis Gaunt, was being loved by her.

He thrust up with abandon, garbled pleas and frenzied, worshipful praise flowing from his mouth between urgent kisses, his hands held firmly above his head as she rode him like a graphorn. Her hair swung down, the silken tresses brushing over his face and chest like he’d always dreamed of. He began to feel a delicious, prickling heat pooling at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, his skin tingling as he ran full pelt towards the edge. Something within him knew he needed to savour this, to commit each and every detail to memory as she herself released a soft, breathy moan, but that single sound, the knowledge that came with it being that he was making her feel good was too much for him.

"Fuck... fuck... FUCK! YES! YES!"

The spell was broken, the potion overcome as Ominis’ entire body went taught, his balls drawing up tight as he finally, finally came like a fucking hose. His head snapped back, his moans rising to echoing yelps as his back arched, his hands pinioned above his head as he writhed, the sensation so much more intense than anything he had ever experienced before, going on and on and on until he was certain he might go mad. But end it did, and he fell back, utterly boneless and exhausted, his breath trembling as his body quivered, the warm weight of her comforting as she settled to lie atop him, her lips soothing once more at his neck.

“Are you alright?” she asked, after some small time had passed. Ominis could only mumble non-words, his mind still scattered, his not quite feeling his body as he should now that there was this sudden absence of primal need. Little by little, the last few hours came back to him, and he felt his chest grow tight. Wincing as fresh shame burned a path through him, Ominis turned his face away.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he managed, his voice cracking. “Y-you shouldn’t have… my behaviour… I never should…”

“Hush,” she brushed his hair back, pressing a delicate kiss to his temple. “I was happy to, Ominis.” She pulled him closer, a hand at the back of his head, and he curled into her automatically, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The lingering ache in his body melded with his utter humiliation, contrasting bizarrely with a feeling of purest bliss. He held onto it, onto her, knowing that once she left this bed, this room, she’d never want to speak to him again. She had helped him, yes, but that was what she did. It wasn’t because she liked him. How could anyone like someone as depraved as him?

As if she could read his thoughts, she gave him a little squeeze, her lips brushing his ear.

“You know, I’d be happy to do this again,” she murmured, and he felt her lips stretch into a smile against his skin as his heart leapt. “With you, and only you. Only… let’s leave the experimental potions out of it next time, hm?”

Ominis was only too happy to agree.

[thespectrehauntingfodlan]

I feel like a lot of people, and this is really more for Usamericans than those from other countries who don't have any exposure to the internal affairs of this particular nightmare country, truly do not grasp the scale and significance of the problems and horrors here?

Literacy will be mentioned and downplayed, but a full 20% of people living here are illiterate to a degree where they cannot interact with even basic writing. That's one in five people, or almost the population of the entirety of the United Kingdom. And that's only the population that either cannot read any words at all or cannot parse sentences, an equally large amount of people can only read at a very basic level, and can't interpret and extrapolate information from text that's not direct. This is not some cry about media literacy, this is about basic functioning in society and how many are left behind from a society that increasingly isolates and diminishes them.

Manufacturing will be mentioned, and the thought most will have is that American production has been gutted and outsourced (usually leading to hostility to places like China or Vietnam), which has some truth but much of American industry has been transfered from "free" workers to prison slave labor, with some states not paying prisoners forced to work at all and the most ""generous"" states paying them a seventh of the already laughable federal minimum wage, and with the government actually subsidizing this by giving corporations a $2400 tax credit per prisoner they "employ"

Prison will be mentioned but the sheer inhumanity and brutality will never be grasped even when people recognize elements of it (usually for what passes as comedy) the totality of it will never register. One out of five of all people incarcerated on Earth are in prison in America, subjected to conditions which regularly and frequently kill them or break them, and there's not even a consistent reporting measure for people who die in prison or jail, to say nothing of the police killings which dwarf the amount of people executed by the state, which has even less of a standard for reporting. One county was simply burying the people they killed in unmarked graves nearby and never reporting it or recording it, only being discovered after years almost on accident.

Homelessness is rampant but the numbers and methods for assessing the size of the unhomed population are pitiful at best and laughable at worst, regularly undercounting and diminishing the severity because those who are homeless are barely considered people to not just the government but in the perception imposed by society.

And none of that is touching on the scale of the imperial war machine which ravages the rest of the world, how there's no way to even know how many bases the US even has, how many people it kills, how many wars it fights, who it even supports. None of us touching on the non-military methods of support and control the US provides to its proxies and cronies who prop up its hegemony.

The scale of it all is just mind breaking and I have seen excellent writing and interrogation of parts but I don't feel like the overall picture is ever even glimpsed.

[hanakou-often]

12. Swap au?

AU where Kou becomes the seventh mystery and Amane becomes his assistant (In retrospect his assistant probably should’ve been Mitsuba but I was on a Hanakou ROLL)!! I enjoy this concept a lot but I'll admit its not the most thought out idea so don't expect much lmao

Kou is now Number 7 of the roof top: Nariko-San! Hanako said not many people know how to summon him but I think it’s pretty lame excuse? I mean if getting a wish granted was as easy as knocking on a bathroom door I feel like way more people would do it yk!! The more powerful the apparition, the harder it should be to summon. So to up the ante, Nariko’s rumor is ‘if you go out on the roof top on a rainy day and lean over the railing while chanting ‘Nariko-San, Nariko-San, save me' She just might make your wish come true' and of course the "price to pay" here is the risk of losing your life yk

Amane is crazy enough to be the first to summon him. His wish is something along the lines of him wanting to ‘live among the stars' or something equally as emo and blah blah when he finally summons him, Nariko appears in a streak of lightning and instantly pulls Amane back in. Amane expected a more grim figure with a matching God-like disposition but Nariko shows immediate concern, dispelling any previous expectations.

I'm not exactly sure how or why but eventually instead of a mermaid scale Amane swallows a bird feather? He turns into an owl and Nariko has to fight off a harpy, stating those are "angels" who use avian creatures as their 'eyes'. When the harpy is finally gone, Nariko eats the other feather and makes Amane promise not to randomly fly off and leave (because people care about him yadda yadda). Now anytime Amane gets flustered/agitated or sneezes, he turns into his owl form.

Teru is Nariko’s Tsukasa so to speak. His personality is sort similar mother Gothel from Tangled where he's more emotionally manipulative than violent/extreme like Tsukasa. Anyways Tiara grows up without her siblings. One of the only things I’ve written for this AU is Nariko grappling with that guilt so stay tuned for that <3

I’ll be so honest I was only here to max out on the shipping potential so I didn’t think about other characters' roles though too much lol. I've been aching to write the beginnings of this au so I can cash in on the weird Teru and Nariko dynamic later but as you can tell my ideas are a little scatterbrained with some bits of info missing here and there.

[timeagainreviews]

Up the Killjoys!

Growing up in a flyover state, I got used to missing out on a lot of events. Bands would skip the City of Fountains in favour of St Louis or Denver. Road trips were necessities among my friends. When David Lynch’s Inland Empire came to theatres, I was already saving up for the trip to Denver. I had never seen a new David Lynch film in the theatre, and I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity. You can imagine my relief when a tiny ad in the local paper announced Inland Empire would be playing at the local arthouse for one week. In my excitement, I may have overdone it. Over the course of that week, I saw that impenetrable enigma of a three-hour film three times! A bit much, I know, but give me a break. I was in my twenties and used words like “cinema.” It’s ironic then, that watching the Criterion Collection’s recent digital upscaling of the film on my laptop helped me connect with the movie on a deeper level than three viewings on the big screen could manage.

There are purists out there who say that digital upgrades of old material are blasphemy. The Star Wars special editions remain a sore spot among old people like myself who wish they would continue offering the original versions. But in the case of Doctor Who, these digital updates can help stories rise to the greatness of their writing. While the quaint effects of classic Doctor Who are charming, they can also be distracting. Simply put, “Snakedance,” is far more engrossing when the snake doesn’t look like shit. I can suspend my disbelief, but I connect to the material so much more when it’s not necessary. “The Happiness Patrol,” is one of the latest stories to receive such an upgrade, and it’s the one I’ve been most anticipating. If ever there were a story that could benefit from widening its scope, it’s this one.

The “Doctor Who: The Collection,” series has been a must-buy for me. I’m not being a shill, it’s simply the truth. They announce them, I pre-order them. However, season 25 is a unique moment in the collection as it marks the Seventh Doctor era as the first completed era of a single Doctor. It would have been Colin Baker, but “The Twin Dilemma,” remains unreleased as it was still a part of season 21. It’s not surprising that Seven’s time in the TARDIS should be the first completed. It’s only three seasons, and it’s also very beloved. Many consider the Seventh Doctor era as a turning point, where Andrew Cartmel’s role as script editor started to pay off. Although the show was never able to regain the audience numbers lost during the hiatus of 1985, the show was something of its old self again.

Despite the reappraisal of the Seventh Doctor era, “The Happiness Patrol,” remains controversial among fans of the fuddy-duddy variety. Alright, maybe some of them have a point. After all, I did say I was anticipating this release, and not without reason. Three of the most common complaints revolve around the poor use of soundstages, the Kandy Man, and the Pipe People, in that order from most egregious to a minor quibble. It’s lucky then that the soundstages get the most attention, which lends credence to the other two.

As settings go, Terra Alpha is like many other Doctor Who planets- an entire planet with a theme and one language and government (other than the native Pipe People, of course). However, we receive very little in the way of establishing shots. There are no scale models of the city, no model of the planet itself. Instead, we open on soundstage dressed to look like a city street at night. Were it not for the street lamp, you could be excused for mistaking this as an indoor location. While it may have looked acceptable on a 1988 television, on Blu-ray, the illusion is lost. However, through the miracle of digital compositing, the new special edition opens up the skyline a bit. So when the camera pans down from the neon-signed horizon to the street level, it feels like a natural extension of a cramped city. The geography of Terra Alpha demands to be understood better as it can be rather confusing with little to no establishing shots. Even still, there are moments where the city feels shunted together. There’s even a moment where Ace casually wanders into the Kandy Man’s “Kandy Kitchen,” laboratory because why not? Why would a totalitarian regime lock the doors of its evil torture lab?

The government of Terra Alpha has outlawed feelings such as grief and anguish in favour of happiness and smug superiority. Led by a Thatcher cypher named Helen A, the Happiness Patrol roam the streets in golf carts whilst armed to the teeth with pink weaponry matching their hair and uniform. Nothing and no one is allowed to be blue, not even the TARDIS which they partially paint pink to bring it up to code. People vanish after Routine Disappearances where undercover agents pose as sympathetic ears to the plights of the downtrodden citizens of Terra Alpha. Muzak pours from tannoys on every corner in an attempt to liven up the city with cheeriness. The effect, however, feels more like Eraserhead or Auschwitz, where music fails to cover up the misery and danger permeating the atmosphere. Despite all of this, a resistance pocket of Killjoys put on demonstrations protesting the forced frivolity. Cutting through all of that muzak is the soulful harmonica of Earl Sigma, an outsider turned reluctant resident. As a visitor to Terra Alpha, Earl is given the designation of Sigma to indicate his outsider status.

Speaking of outsiders, the Doctor and Ace are questioned upon arrival due to their lack of badges. They’re designated Sigmas and told to stay within visitor boundaries, but the Doctor presses the matter of their lack of documentation as a means to get captured. I rather liked watching the Seventh Doctor purposely getting himself arrested. While McCoy’s portrayal as the Doctor in season 24 was whimsical and clownish, season 25 introduces a more Machiavellian side to the Seventh Doctor which lends him a far more nuanced quality than a man who purposely hangs himself off a catwalk from his umbrella. Now I say arrested, but nobody is actually arrested on Terra Alpha as there are no jails. At least, not by their definition. This is the waiting area. Don’t let the armed guard or the booby-trapped escape vehicle fool you.

Wordplay is a key aspect to Graeme Curry’s script. The Happiness Patrol finds inventive ways to redefine the world using language. It’s a chilling reminder of the ways our own government can redefine what a person is, what legal immigration looks like, or even where a country's borders begin and end. It’s impossible to get ahead when they keep moving the goalposts. Throughout Terra Alpha, Helen A’s propaganda can be seen far and wide. She transmits video feeds addressing the city directly through fruit machines with “jokes,” meant to undermine and dehumanise Killjoys. What is a Killjoy exactly? Well, anyone who disagrees with Helen A’s myopic view of the world. Anyone who might make Helen A feel sadness. Anyone who might make Helen A feel alone. Anyone who might make her question her moral code. While Curry’s messaging isn’t exactly subtle, it never winks and nods at itself. It strikes a balance of obviousness without insulting the viewer’s intelligence. Instead, Curry saves the groan-inducing dialogue for puns, of which there are many.

While in holding, the Doctor and Ace witness a public execution of a Killjoy. Some sources have claimed that the executed Killjoy is a queer-coded individual, but I fail to see it. I’ve seen people claim he is wearing a pink triangle, but thanks to the miracle of 4K digital restoration, you can see that the pink triangle is actually the result of a pink shirt under a partially zipped jacket. The only other pink triangles are the flags hanging from the cheery bunting. Don’t let me yuck your yum though. If you prefer the gay allegory, don’t let me stop you. What’s super weird about this scene, however, is the means by which the man is executed. A large metal tube is lowered over the man’s body and a deluge of liquid strawberry fondant pours into the chamber. It’s hard to tell what exactly kills him here. Does he drown in the fondant? Was the liquid scalding hot? Was it diabetes? It’s not entirely clear, but it is most definitely bizarre.

Bizarre and surreal are two words I would use to describe this serial. Perhaps the most surreal aspect at the chewy centre of this story is the Kandy Man himself. Full disclosure, but the first time I watched the Happiness Patrol, I had a hard time with the Kandy Man as a concept. I didn’t mind that he looks like Bertie Bassett as it fits Helen A’s bizarro brand of cloying cuteness, but the fact that he is made out of actual candy is baffling. Sure it’s weird to make a kill bot that looks like candy, but using actual candy is just poor craftsmanship. Call me crazy, but I feel like one of the first rules of building a robot is that its components should be non-perishable. They do mention the sugar beet fields of Terra Alpha. Perhaps sugar is easier to source than metal? No, there’s metal everywhere in the city. It’s just weird.

The Kandy Man’s body does seem to have a bit of reasoning to it. Gilbert, the Kandy Man’s assistant/creator mentions that the Kandy Man must keep moving or he will solidify. It seems like a design defect, but it really just makes Kandy Man more relatable. I too turn into a brick of toffee when I become too sedentary. What’s that? He’s also a moody artist forced by the government to use his talents for evil? Literally me. It reminds me a bit of how our own bodies are constantly warding off disease and decay. In a way, it makes the Kandy Man more than a machine, but something living. That and his human mouth painted blue which I had never noticed before seeing it in hi-def. Thanks to the Blu-ray upgrade, you can see the Kandy Man’s metal grill as clearly as Ace’s Batman earrings.

After watching their fellow non-cellmate get murdered by Helen A, the Doctor and Ace defuse the armed golf cart and escape. However, during the chase, Ace and the Doctor are separated. The Doctor is almost caught by an undercover agent named Silas P of the Happiness Patrol only to be rescued by Earl Sigma who knocks Silas P unconscious. When the patrol find their way to Silas’ whistle, they assume he’s the target and kill him, reminding the viewer that there is no safety under fascism. There is no way to be the perfect citizen. We will always fall short of unreasonable expectations– even you. Free from immediate danger, the Doctor and Earl make their way to even more danger. The Doctor wishes to find the Kandy Kitchen so that he may confront this confit hatchetman. Meanwhile, Ace ingratiates herself with a sympathetic member of the Happiness Patrol- Susan Q.

Susan Q, or Suzie Q as I like to call her, is disillusioned by Helen A’s vision for Terra Alpha, illustrating how even the converted can see the cracks forming. She was even demoted from Susan L to Susan Q after she was caught owning a blues record. She didn’t revel in the shooting of civilians and she expressed sympathy for the Killjoys. Because of this, she attempts to help Ace with her Happiness Patrol auditions, lest she becomes the next victim of the Kandy Man’s fondant surprise. Upon realising Ace couldn’t fake happy even when her life depended on it, Susan allows Ace to escape, thus endangering her own life. We stan Suzie Q in this house. She’s a good one, our Suze.

The Doctor and Earl get captured almost immediately. Gilbert and the Kandy Man tie them up in barber chairs in preparation for experimentation. The Doctor questions the Kandy Man and learns that the fondant tubes can be redirected. Remember how I said it’s weird that the Kandy Man is made of real candy? I believe this scene is why. You see, to trap the Kandy Man, the Doctor tricks him into knocking a bottle of lemonade to the floor. As the lemonade mixes with Kandy Man’s sugary feet, he’s locked into place and unable to move. The Doctor and Earl use this as an opportunity to escape into the underground of the city. The Kandy Man can only call out to Gilbert to come and set him free.

I’ve heard that the scenes within the Kandy Kitchen were originally supposed to be black and white with the Kandy Man in colour. Think Pleasantville but with a killer candy robot. However, the effect was scrapped most likely due to the limitations of technology and/or budget. You can see the concept of the idea in the black and white painted backgrounds which evoke a sort of “The Cabinet of Dr Caligari,” vibe. Part of me was hoping they would attempt this effect with the special edition, but I understand why they didn’t. It probably would have upset more people than it would have made happy. Even still, it could have been a cool extra to throw in.

As special editions go, the Doctor Who upgrades are usually very clever. While they do occasionally take a perfectly serviceable model shot and render it into an unnecessary CGI shot, they usually make good decisions. You younger people won’t really get this, but there was a time when special effects in television changed dramatically. After Jim Henson realised you could use latex skin over an animatronic to achieve Yoda, the industry standard for puppets and makeup changed overnight. Ten years later you started to see aliens and monsters in Doctor Who that were starting to look fairly believable. Sure, the concept of the Kandy Man is weird, but he never doesn’t look like a robot made of candy. And while not the most impressive puppet, Helen A’s pet Stigorax “Fifi,” was completely serviceable. Even the Pipe People look great. This is all to say, I am glad they didn’t try and change things for the sake of changing them.

While traversing the underground, the Doctor and Earl discovered Chekov’s sugar avalanche built up in the pipe. One wrong toot on Earl’s harmonica (Do you toot harmonicas?) and it could all come pouring down. They also meet the Pipe People who realise fairly quickly that they are allies through a mutual love of the blues and Ace. Throughout the story, the Pipe People do a lot of spying from manholes. Ultimately, however, they do very little. They’re a bit of an afterthought. While I do like their makeup, I totally forgot they were even in this story until they showed up. This is a fairly common complaint about them as many people forget about them. I chalk this up to Andrew Cartmel’s inexperience as a script editor. The Pipe People could just as easily have been rolled into the Killjoys for as much development as they get. I understand Graeme Curry’s desire to introduce a native species to Terra Alpha, but for as much impact as the Pipe People leave on the story, they may as well have saved the money from the makeup budget and put it into building better sets. However, they have a handful of fun moments like when they think Ace’s name is Gordon Bennett or when they orchestrate the Kandy Man’s death.

Sadly, one aspect of soundstage that can’t be improved with CGI is the frequency at which they reuse locations. Had they been able to shoot a story on location, they could have found numerous spots and angles to keep things fresh. Instead, the story reverts to a lot of the Doctor or Ace getting captured and escaping. It all sort of starts to blend together. It’s weird because they have to be so economical with the shortened time of a three-parter, and yet they have to keep coming up with new reasons to reuse a set. It’s possibly one of the messiest aspects of the story. The only workaround I can see if if they had scouted a location to stand in as Terra Alpha’s streets while maintaining the interiors on a soundstage. That or do a different story all together. But then we wouldn’t have this unique adventure.

The Pipe People help Ace escape, once again. Oh, did I not mention Ace got captured again? Only this time in the waiting zone, Ace is joined by Susan who has been discovered as a sympathiser. Their cruel jailor, the sadistic Pricilla P relishes the idea of their upcoming executions. Ace is sprung out of jail by one of the Pipe People and she absconds to the underground, sadly leaving Susan Q behind. But don’t worry, Ace is going to get captured again. I know you were concerned about that.

At this point, the story is all over the place. Helen A sends Fifi into the tunnels to hunt down the rebellion while the Doctor meets a census taker named Trevor Sigma. Because, sure, why not? The scenes between the Doctor and Trevor, while entertaining, are another addition to an already overstuffed story. I even took an inventory of the characters with my boyfriend and he had completely forgotten the existence of Trevor after having seen the story only two days prior. The Doctor then takes another excursion to stop a pair of snipers from taking fire on a group of Killjoys. It’s odd because the story is already experiencing bloat but I wouldn’t delete this scene for a few reasons. Firstly, it’s actually on theme. The Doctor is taking the time to humanise the dehumanised by closing the gap between sniper and target. It’s easy to take a life from a distance, but can he shoot the Doctor at point-blank range? It’s also great because it’s such a badass moment for Sylvester McCoy. There’s something about the Doctor begging to be annihilated that just gets my jollies. It’s truly one of his coolest moments as the Doctor. And lastly, at least they’re shooting a different set, or at least another angle of the same set. I’ll take a win when I can!

Ace stops Fifi with Nitro 9 only for Fifi to die later by sugar avalanche. It’s an odd choice when you consider the fact that they could have killed her with the Nitro 9 and left out the entire avalanche aspect altogether. I get that it’s a cool idea for Earl to resonate the sugar crystals until it caves in, but maybe pick one? I will say they did a good job on the puppeteering of Fifi running. I did giggle a bit at the way it was shot. They use such a wide angle that it makes Fifi appear very small inside that giant pipe. It undercuts her ferocity when you’re like “Awww puppy!” Maybe they were going for more of a scurrying look than a lurching look. Either way, I love Fifi’s mournful howl. I like that it evokes wolves or cats, but also sounds like its own creature looming in the distance.

Sheila Hancock dazzles as the contemptibly cheery Helen A. In just three short episodes, she sells herself as one of the 7th Doctor’s most memorable enemies. And as he would say- "You can always judge a man by the quality of his enemies." Doctor Who has had its fair share of evil men and women giving edicts from behind a desk, but there’s something about Helen A that sticks with you. She’s up there with Graham Crowden, Beatrix Lehmann, and Trevor Baxter - single-story actors who leave their mark in big ways. I love a Classic Doctor Who actor who throws themselves into their role. She’s having fun, and by extension, so are we. I also like that Helen A appears to be the only one allowed to wear red. That’s toxic girlboss energy and I love that for her.

Having the Doctor waltz into Helen A’s office is an unexpected pleasure. I like the way the Doctor is playing with the artifice that is Helen A’s rule. There are no prisoners on Terra Alpha. Why wouldn’t the Doctor be allowed in Helen A’s office? She has nothing to hide, after all. And he’s not an enemy of the state. All is well! Eat sugar, paint yourself pink, and carry on. The Doctor also learns of Helen A’s soft spot for Fifi. This somewhat ties back to my comments about Nitro 9 vs Sugar Avalanche. They establish Helen A’s love for Fifi to both the audience and the Doctor on numerous occasions. I may be wrong, but Helen A’s doting over a wounded Fifi undercuts her shock over Fifi’s death. I find it hard to believe she would send Fifi out again after such a close call. Then again, Helen A probably doesn’t love Fifi more than she loves herself. One thing I did find interesting about Fifi's bandages is that they seem to heal her. I wondered if these weren't maybe the same healing bandages the First Doctor wore in "The Edge of Destruction."

Having helped Ace escape, Susan Q is sentenced to death by fondant surprise but the Doctor stops the execution by trapping the Kandy Man with lemonade yet again. Worried that his insides will solidify into toffee, the Kandy Man releases Susan from her sticky fate. Once again, I am baffled by the Kandy Man’s design. He’s like one of those fish that stops breathing when it stops swimming. Or maybe it’s like how God gave me combined ADHD because he knew I would be too powerful without it. Gilbert’s little failsafe he built into the Kandy Man just in case he ever reached beyond his station. The Doctor unfreezes the Kandy Man and the Kandy Man stays true to his word and spares both Ace and Susan. What a day everyone is having.

One of the strengths of Graeme Curry’s script is that he’s able to keep all of these different balls in the air, with set-up and call-backs repeatedly paying off. Sure, there are moments when the Doctor feels like he is teleported from one location to the next, but everything has its place. Take Trevor Sigma, for example. I mentioned earlier that he’s yet another element in a fairly stacked narrative, but he turns out to be one of the most pivotal characters in the entire story. Due to his thorough census, there is now a paper trail for every person Helen A has disappeared. The holes where they used to exist paint the real portrait of a murderous despot. The paintings of Helen A plastering Terra Alpha are but a facade on her factory of death.

The death of the Kandy Man, brought on by a truly surprising wave of fondant, is the beginning of the end for Helen A. The remains of the Kandy Man flush down the tube like a blasting cap in sugar water. She had the sugar, the power, and the women, but she lost it all. What’s worse is those bloody Killjoys learned to beat her at her own game by adding cheeriness to their demonstrations. The Doctor, Earl, and the rest of the Killjoys disrupt Ace’s sure-to-be-fatal audition at the Forum with a public outcry of joy and merriment. Rubbing salt in her wounds, Helen A’s husband Joseph C and Gilbert M have stolen her ship presumably to open a bed and breakfast. I wish them both many years of happiness together. With uprisings all over Terra Alpha breaking out, the walls are closing in for Helen so she begins packing. However, while absconding, she is stopped cold by her beloved pet Fifi. Cradling her in her arms, Helen grieves while the rest of Terra Alpha laughs.

The special edition's ending differs from the original broadcast version's ending in a very simple yet effective way. As the TARDIS dematerialises, the camera now pans up to a neon sign that says “Keep smiling,” which then goes dark, implying the end of Helen A’s reign and the Happiness Patrol’s stranglehold on Terra Alpha. It’s such a better ending and so on theme that I don’t even care that the font they chose looks like it says “Keep sniling.” It’s a great example of how digital compositing can be more than set extensions. They don’t shy from making creative choices. The term “LOL,” was not heavily used in the 80’s, but having a sign that says “LOL POPS” makes the story feel retroactively modern, which feels wibbly wobbly timey wimey. And if you don’t like that, then just chalk it up to a burned-out “I” in “lolipops.” And then chalk it up to the signmaker not knowing how to spell lollipops. Maybe it’s the same guy who made the “Keep sniling,” sign.

If you’re a fan of the Seventh Doctor era, you owe it to yourself to check out this boxed set. It’s worth it for the special edition of “The Happiness Patrol” alone. Sure, sometimes the digital effects sit weird next to the video footage of 80’s Doctor Who, but you’ll soon forget that distraction a lot sooner than you would forget the distractingly tiny sets. It’s obvious this was a labour of love. They went big on this one and I appreciate them for that. But the real heroes are the original cast and crew for finding such an entertaining way to deliver some hard truths. Politicians who smile while stripping you of your rights are as relevant today as ever. It’s important for us that fiction be allowed to explore concepts like dehumanisation. If our politicians have more enemies than policies, maybe they’re only out for their own selfish means. No matter what happens, we all have to find our own happiness. Stay safe, and keep sniling.

[littlemoonastrology]

All About: LIBRA ♎︎ - The Zodiac Signs

This post will cover all the basic information needed to understand Libra, the seventh Zodiac Sign!

Take a look at my other posts to see information on: Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo and Virgo!

Ready for the next one? Because Scorpio is coming next!

If you feel like this post has helped you feel free to Follow, Reblog or Repost (as long as I'm credited! I'm relatively new to Tumblr so I'm still learning about how all this works)!

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Libra ♎︎

Date (Only applies to Sun Signs): September 23 - October 22

Symbol: ♎︎ - The Scales

Associated House: Seventh

Associated Degrees: 7°, 19°

Associated Energy: Masculine

Planetary Ruler(s): ♀ Venus (Modern and Traditional)

Element: Air

Modality: Cardinal

Keywords: Fair, Confident, Open-Minded, Grateful, Analytical, Aesthetitian

Libra! This placement brings a natural affinity for justice and fairness, they're the ones that set the expectations! This placement makes someone a great peacemaker (and debater!), easily able to tap into the needs of others and see all sides of a situation. Someone with this placement may come across as quite polite too or friendly, maybe even a good aesthetic eye which shows with the way they dress, their makeup or something else. Libra placements have a reputation for being quite slow or "dumb", but remember Libra is an Air sign - they also need some kind of mental stimulation and can be highly analytical individuals, able to judge situations very accurately! As friends, Libra signs are the ones which will make sure you don't settle for less than you deserve!

Whilst Libra placements are quite open-minded, in situations they are passionate about they may have a tendency to take sides and be quick to judge things as good or bad (depending on the situation) which can lead to them getting involved in drama they really shouldn't be getting involved with. In this kind of situation it can cause some sort of consequence, blockage or argument and results in a loss which isn't the kind of life a Libra needs - they need to be able to be a part of something and use their brain. This can also happen if they start to lose appreciation for little things and lose the bigger picture.

When a Libra's life feels stagnant, like they're being blocked or don't have anything to dedicate their brain to they may start to overthink a lot or develop some kind of anxiety... maybe even worrying about the way they come across in certain situations or picking situations apart to figure out what is going wrong. In fact a Libra placement might get so preoccupied with this that they start to lose certain aspects of who they are, feeling lost in life and like they don't have much of a purpose. They might start to come across as very withdrawn or perhaps erratic, aggressive (or passive on the other end of the spectrum) and have trouble opening up (or just completely overshare).

When Libra feels like they have choice and freedom, they may have trouble picking between multiple situations, maybe because they're overthinking but sometimes it's because they feel TOO comfortable, like they can do anything. For this reason it's important for someone with this placement to weigh situations logically - but also pay attention to what they want for themselves as well. A Pros and Cons list may work or something similar!

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Notes/Keywords/Phrases

Zodiac Sign

Each of the Zodiac Signs are a constellation. The Zodiac Sign shows how a Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House is being represented and expressed. Once a Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House falls into a Zodiac Sign, it adopts the energy of it.

For example: if Mercury falls into the constellation Sagittarius, Mercury adopts Sagittarian traits. If the 6th House falls into the constellation Aquarius, the 6th House adopts Aquarian traits.

Associated House

The Houses in Astrology are dependent on the time and location of birth in a Natal Chart and there are 12 different ones. Each of these 12 Houses are then assigned to a Zodiac Sign and 1 or 2 Planetary Rulers. The Houses in Astrology show you what area of life the energy of the Zodiac and Planets/Asteroids/Fixed Points is appointed to and helps provide depth into the chart.

For example: Capricorn's Associated House is the 10th House.

Associated Degrees

When a Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House falls into a Zodiac Sign constellation, it will be appointed a Degree. This Degree shows how far along the Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House is in a Zodiac Sign. Each Degree is also associated with a Zodiac Sign, meaning when this Degree comes up it can nuance the way the Zodiac Sign of a Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House is being represented.

For example: Mars is 6° in the Zodiac Cancer, 6° represents Virgo - therefore the Cancer Mars also takes on Virgo traits. The 2nd House is 23° in the Zodiac Scorpio, 23° represents Aquarius - therefore the 2nd House in Scorpio takes on Aquarian traits.

Planetary Ruler(s)

This phrase refers to the Planet(s) that rule a Zodiac Sign. When a Planet falls into the Zodiac Sign it has rulership over, the energy of both the Planet and the Zodiac Sign is amplified.

For example: Pisces' Planetary Ruler is Neptune.

Modern / Traditional

These words are associated with two kinds of Astrology: Modern Astrology and Traditional Astrology. Traditional Astrology refers to Astrology that was practiced before the 19th century, whilst Modern Astrology refers to Astrology that is practiced now. Some people choose to practice Traditional Astrology, some people choose to practice Modern Astrology, whilst some others might practice both types or combine them together.

Element

Each Zodiac Sign/Planet/House/Degree is associated with an Element and this covers certain traits which are unique to the Zodiac Sign/Planet/House/Degree they correspond to.

These Elements are: Fire, Air, Water and Earth.

Modality

Much like an Element, each Zodiac Sign/Planet/House/Degree is associated with a Modality. The Modality describes what the focus of a placement is and how the energy is expressed.

There are 3 different Modalities: Cardinal, Mutable and Fixed.

[corneliaavenue-ao3]

Freeze

written for @hinnymicrofic Day 2 | 320 words. Muggle AU

The door jingled, alerting all 2 people in the frozen yogurt shop that they had another customer.

It was probably the seventh or eighth time Ginny had been in said shop this past week alone. Sure she liked fro-yo, but not enough to eat it for a straight week. Instead she kept coming back because of one person.

There behind the counter stood a very attractive boy with messy, black hair and bright, green eyes accented by his teal t-shirt that was a uniform for the shop. His handwritten name badge displayed the name Harry.

He was the reason she has a sudden craving for frozen yogurt.

She grabbed a cup and self-served herself a healthy portion of the strawberry flavor and added in a select few toppings.

"Can't stay away from me, can you Ginny?" he teased as she put her cup on the scale.

"Something like that, Harry," Ginny said, paying for her dessert. She took a spoon from the counter and immediately took a bite.

"You know, you don't have to keep getting shitty yogurt to come see me."

Ginny choked, wincing as the cold yogurt hit the back of her throat and chilled her entire head.

"Sorry, brain freeze," Ginny mustered out.

Harry leaned across the counter, "You know if you stick your thumb on the top of the roof of your mouth, it should do the trick," he said, demonstrating as he spoke.

Ginny stuck her thumb in her mouth to relieve the pain. "You're a lifesaver, Harry."

He grinned, "Always happy to save a damsel in distress."

"So Harry," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at his comment, "Would you be willing to betray your loyalties to frozen yogurt to get real ice cream with me later this week?"

"I get off in 20 minutes, you can throw out that fake stuff, and I will happily buy you the real deal then."

"It's a date."

[holystormfire]

How can I recognize manipulation in myself and others?

2 Corinthians 12:16-19

Some of you admit I was not a burden to you. But they still think I was sneaky and took advantage of you by trickery. But how? Did any of the men I sent to you take advantage of you? When I urged Titus to visit you and sent our other brother with him, did Titus take advantage of you? No, of course not . . . Everything we do, dear friends, is for your benefit.

Taking advantage of others for our own benefit is manipulation. A manipulator tries to gain things at others’ expense.

Proverbs 12:20

Deceit fills hearts that are plotting evil; joy fills hearts that are planning peace!

Jeremiah 9:5

They all fool and defraud each other; no one tells the truth. With practiced tongues they tell lies; they wear themselves out with all their sinning.

1 John 4:6

But we belong to God; that is why those who know God listen to us. If they do not belong to God, they do not listen to us. That is how we know if someone has the Spirit of truth or the spirit of deception.

Deceiving someone to get what we want or to make ourselves look good is manipulation. If we find ourselves twisting the truth to get what we want, we are probably being manipulative.

Amos 5:11

You trample the poor and steal what little they have through taxes and unfair rent. Therefore, you will never live in the beautiful stone houses you are building. You will never drink wine from the lush vineyards you are planting.

Amos 8:5-6

You can’t wait for the Sabbath day to be over and the religious festivals to end so you can get back to cheating the helpless. You measure out grain with dishonest measures and cheat the buyer with dishonest scales. And you mix the grain you sell with chaff swept from the floor. Then you enslave poor people for one piece of silver or a pair of sandals.

Cheating is often a form of manipulation. It is a plan to take something we don’t deserve because we feel entitled to it. It changes the landscape of fairness.

Mark 12:40

But they shamelessly cheat widows out of their property, and then, to cover up the kind of people they really are, they make long prayers in public. Because of this, their punishment will be the greater.

Hypocrisy —when what we say doesn’t match what we do – is a form of manipulation. We pretend to be a better person than we really are in order to get something we want. If we need to put on a façade for others, chances are we are being manipulative.

Nehemiah 6:9, 14, 19

They were just trying to intimidate us, imagining that they could break our resolve and stop the work. So I prayed for strength to continue the work . . . Remember, O my God, all the evil things that Tobiah and Sanballat have done. And remember Noadiah the prophet and all the prophets like her who have tried to intimidate me . . . They kept telling me what a wonderful man Tobiah was, and then they told him everything I said. And Tobiah sent many threatening letters to intimidate me.

Intimidation is a form of manipulation. When the manipulator can’t entice, he may try to intimidate or pressure you into submission.

Galatians 4:17

Those false teachers are so eager to win your favor, but their intentions are not good. They are trying to shut you off from me so that you will pay attention only to them.

Isolation is often a form of manipulation. We should cautious when someone tries to isolate us from Christian influence. Whether it is an intentional attempt to manipulate us or not, it can have a dangerous impact on our faith.

Judges 14:15-17

Samson’s wife came to him in tears and said, “You don’t love me; you hate me! You have given my people a riddle, but you haven’t told me the answer.” “I haven’t even given the answer to my father or mother,” he replied. “Why should I tell you?” So she cried whenever she was with him and kept it up for the rest of the celebration. At last, on the seventh day, he told her the answer because of her persistent nagging. Then she gave the answer to the young men.

Emotional pressure, nagging, and guilt are often used to manipulate. If we use these weapons, we are guilty of manipulation. Instead of these, self-control, encouragement, and forgiveness should be our tools for building relationships.

Romans 16:18

Such people are not serving Christ our Lord; they are serving their own personal interests. By smooth talk and glowing words they deceive innocent people.

Proverbs 7:21

So she seduced him with her pretty speech. With her flattery she enticed him.

Jude 1:16

These people are grumblers and complainers, doing whatever evil they feel like. They are loudmouthed braggarts, and they flatter others to get favors in return.

1 Thessalonians 2:5

Never once did we try to win you with flattery, as you very well know. And God is our witness that we were not just pretending to be your friends so you would give us money!

Psalm 12:2

Neighbors lie to each other, speaking with flattering lips and insincere hearts.

Flattery is often used to manipulate. It can be difficult to tell the difference between a sincere compliment and a false one. This is why we tend to be so vulnerable to flattery disguised as compliments.

Daniel 6:5-7

So they concluded, "Our only chance of finding grounds for accusing Daniel will be in connection with the rules of his religion." [6] So the administrators and high officers went to the king and said, "Long live King Darius! [7] We are all in agreement-we administrators, officials, high officers, advisers, and governors-that the king should make a law that will be strictly enforced. Give orders that for the next thirty days any person who prays to anyone, divine or human-except to you, Your Majesty-will be thrown into the den of lions.

Pride makes us particularly susceptible to flattery. King Darius was manipulated into endangering his most trusted advisor, Daniel, because of his pride.

1 Thessalonians 5:11

Proverbs 27:6

Proverbs 28:23

Love and truth form the difference between flattery and encouragement. Encouragement finds the good in others and inspires them to greater good. Flattery says what makes others happy with us—not necessarily what is true. It is better to inspire a friend with hard truths than leave them lost with gentle lies.

Proverbs 21:14

A secret gift calms anger; a bribe under the table pacifies fury.

Exodus 23:8

"Take no bribes, for a bribe makes you ignore something that you clearly see. A bribe makes even a righteous person twist the truth.

Proverbs 15:27

Greed brings grief to the whole family, but those who hate bribes will live.

Bribery is a dangerous form of manipulation, because it seems well-intentioned. Sometimes, to avoid an awkward rejection of a gift, we simply take it. But gifts and other benefits tap into our natural and good desire to respond in kind—which tilts our judgment at a deep yet subtle level.

Matthew 7:15

“Beware of false prophets who come disguised as harmless sheep but are really vicious wolves.

Beware of false prophets who come disguised as harmless sheep, but are really wolves that will tear you apart.

Jude 1:8

Yet these false teachers, who claim authority from their dreams, live immoral lives, defy authority, and scoff at the power of the glorious ones that pretends to be the Good News but is not the Good News at all. You are being fooled by those who twist and change the truth concerning Christ.

False prophets and false teachers are manipulators. They pretend to have good news for us, but they are really seeking to take from us.

[dragonscanwrite]

GoS: Prelude

I wrote this as an army intro for the first game of Warhammer 40k I will be running later this week...

------

The observatory array had taken ten solar cycles to construct. Chief Engineer Hyan-Ty's design for the mobile pylons had been ingenious but difficult to realise. Vast swathes of jungle and industrial ruins had been levelled and numerous lives lost in the expedited building process. But the work and the sacrifice was paying off. After only a few solar cycles the faint trace of magic induced artefacts of the lost Slann were being detected. Tik'ol'tec, the Great Starseer of New Lustria, having overseen the construction and commissioning of the array, turned it over to his best Star Priests and Astrologicians to refine the searches.

It was a day in the third season of the seventh solar cycle after the search began that news reached the Sun Temple in the city of Sotzalzan. Tik'ol'tec's contemplations were interrupted by a messenger sent from the Observatory Array that an artefact had been located. The coordinates put it in a far distant part of the galaxy, but it was a definite point in space. The Starseer summoned his retinue of retainers. Preparations were to be made immediately.

For many in Sotzalzan and beyond, it had been the first time they had heard the war-drums sound. But sound they did, from the top of every temple. For many others though, it was a sound not heard for many, many years. The Itzatecah, the lizardmen, from all walks of life though were drawn by instinct to the central plaza, gathering in their thousands. Skinks and Kroxigors huddled in chittering groups, Saurus followed the silent call of their spawn-siblings and gathered in their regiments and units. They fell silent the instant the drums stopped and the proclamation of war was read aloud.

"For countless years we have wallowed on this planet, isolated from our kin and without a great purpose. We have busied ourselves as best we can but without clear direction. But now! I bring forth a plan, a great plan to unite us once again with our great and powerful Starmasters. We have purpose, we have direction. We will now strive forward into the cosmos to complete this great plan!"

Tik'ol'tec paused for a moment, looking out over the crowds that had gathered in the plaza before the Sun Temple. He looked towards the heavens and continued.

"There are those who will stand in our way. There are the forces of Chaos and disorder out there. But they will be crushed under our unrelenting will. The great star canoes we have constructed will extend our reach into the heavens to take back what is ours and show that we, the first, the Itzatecah are the true masters of the stars!"

The response was almost deafening even from the top steps of the temple. The roar gave way to chants of conquest. That evening, an impromptu festival was held throughout the city with processions and feasting and fireworks. Everywhere there was music and dancing. They had a purpose once more. The next morning was a stark contrast, they city was entirely occupied with preparations for the great journey ahead. Supplies, weapons and equipment were being loaded into the Star Canoes at an industrial scale.

In less than one lunar cycle, the ships had been filled, the rituals had been completed and they were prepared for departure. Ka'rah took one last look around the city and jungle before boarding, followed by Ruq-Gar and the rest of her unit. This had been their home for their entire lives. The prospect of marching off to war, to do what they had all been created for was exhilarating but it was tainted with a small sense of apprehension for what would lay ahead. Old-Blood Xi-Boc, the oldest of the Saurus generals to have made it out from the cataclysm of the Old World stood in his small contemplation chamber on board the Star Canoe. He observed his feelings of anxiety and certainty. The forces they would face would be entirely unknown and his own forces were largely inexperienced. There would be great losses and defeats ahead but there was no other way. To fight the enemy was to learn from the enemy. Any loss that could be walked away from represented a learning opportunity, and the foundation for victory in the future. Still, it was going to be a steep learning curve. Even for him.

[forathousanddays]

Iron Maiden - Seventh Son of A Seventh Son (REQUEST)

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son (hereafter shortened to just Seventh Son because wow is that long) is Iron Maiden's seventh studio album, inspired by the novel Seventh Son by Orson Scott Card, which was in turn inspired by the folklore concept of the Seventh Son, who, in an unbroken line of sons, is destined to inherit mystical abilities. The abilities vary on different tellings, such as clairvoyance, supernatural healing, or even ailments like lycanthropy or vampirism. Seventh Son is Iron Maiden's most successful steps into power metal, a soaring and esoteric concept album following the titular seventh son of a seventh son. There's a wide variety of sounds and atmospheres in the tracklist, which really helps the feel of an epic quest, or a life of significance. This one comes with a special kind of difficulty in reviewing, because I need to pay close attention to the lyrics to follow the story. We'll get into that more below the cut.

TRACK 1 - MOONCHILD

We don't really get any time to acclimate before Seventh Son dives straight into its themes and overall vibe. The lyrics are roundabout with a general aesthetic of "lots of occult words," and allegedly come directly from Satan himself. He accosts the mother of the Seventh Son, promising her he'll make her child serve him. The synth line after an acoustic opening very quickly sets our tone as a power metal epic, and everything to come in after that just keeps elevating the sound. There's a minute and a half of mostly just sound before the main melody and lyrics come in, and it adds a special something to the scale of the story.

Excellent introduction to the world and sounds, just alright as a song. The synth opening is the best part, but the solo's good too. 7/10.

TRACK 2 - INFINITE DREAMS

This is our first song from the Seventh Son (the first one) himself, recounting the torment he feels from his clairvoyant dreams. As is customary with power metal concept albums, no two songs blend together; the tone and scene of Infinite Dreams is a much more intimate and proggy experience next to Moonchild. This song very nearly lost a ton of points purely by virtue of putting "unbeliever" and "neither" in consecutive lines, but not pronouncing them with the same inflection on the ie-ei syllables. That one hurt my feelings.

Every part of this one is a treat, even with that glaring issue. 9/10. The guitar never stops moving, and never rests on the same feeling for any prolonged time.

TRACK 3 - CAN I PLAY WITH MADNESS

This one feels most like your standard late 80s heavy metal, with a lot of major chords and hopeful tones. The Seventh Son (still the first one) visits a prophet to inquire about the impending birth of his seventh son, but he's not really saying anything decipherable. My personal theory is that what he sees in his crystal ball is incomprehensible, and impossible to communicate beyond "yeah, dude, you're going to hell."

I'll always have a soft spot for that nostalgic late 80s heavy metal sound I grew up on, 8/10.

TRACK 4 - THE EVIL THAT MEN DO

Like I said before, no power metal epic has two songs that start the same. The Evil That Men Do has a slow, ambling intro, with some of the most evocative playing on the record. The song is about God and the Devil both wanting to claim the child as their servant on earth for his powers, hence the lines about balancing on a razor's edge. This has some of the best lyricism on the album, and is arguably the most immediately "Seventh Son of a Seventh Son" track, if that makes sense.

Bonus points for the Shakespeare quotes. 8/10

TRACK 5 - SEVENTH SON OF A SEVENTH SON

Lo, the miraculous cataclysm of his birth is upon us! Title track! As a power metal record, there's an obligation for at least one nine minute song with very few lyrics of substance. This isn't a complaint, it's a staple of the genre and I'm glad it's a thing. Seventh Son of a Seventh Son marks a turning point, both in the story and in the structure of the record itself - we've just passed the halfway point out of our eight songs. The chugging guitar and powerful vocals do well to communicate the air of significance this song holds in the story.

This is probably higher than it should be. Favourite solo on the album at the end of the third minute, saving it from receiving a 5 or lower. 7/10

TRACK 6 - THE PROPHECY

The title here bothers me, because the first, like, three songs were also a prophecy. That being said, this one's different! The Seventh Son (of the Seventh Son) manifests his supernatural abilities, and foresees a disaster coming for the village. The intro solo is awesome, and another one comes in after the first chorus. By the start of the second verse, it's clear this solo was representing/happening in conjunction with the disaster he prophesized. The second verse is his true realization that his abilities are a curse, not a blessing.

Thematically great, but the sound isn't anything to write home about outside of the intro. 4/10

TRACK 7 - THE CLAIRVOYANT

The Seventh Son can now control his visions, and is a fully-fledged seer. It seems that Iron Maiden have foregone the traditional legends about the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son as a healer in favour of clairvoyance, which is much less prominent but still has its foundations in folk concepts. This song has an ironic tinge to it, with the general concept being that for all his power and insight, the Seventh Son can't foresee his own death. This foreshadowing doesn't really set anything up, though.

The sound is occasionally great, but it's aimless. The tone and style change frequently, and without warning. This should have been multiple songs. 3/10

TRACK 8 - ONLY THE GOOD DIE YOUNG

The Son realizes that his service will stay thankless, and for every prediction he makes, he'll receive only more blame from the village. He's foreseen more calamities, and he knows he can stop them, but to do so would mean a great sacrifice. The title here alludes to his decision in this song; he'll die young, but only if he stays good. He leaves the village behind to live a life of indulgence and comfort, presumably never using his abilities again. The good in him died young, and his sinful and selfish side carries on living. The song closes off with the same mantra the album opens with.

I suppose that's our answer to the argument at the start of the album, about whether he'll be claimed by God or by The Devil. 6/10

RETROSPECTIVE

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son has a lot of great ideas, but the execution is a little rough around the edges. The story is prioritized over the sound, and the album as a whole suffers for it. Investment in the story is a lot harder when songs like The Clairvoyant are a slog to listen through. The highs are very high, but the lows are genuinely difficult to sit through on their own. I can and will listen to a lot of this album again, but the songs that don't hit really don't hit.

If you're interested in the story, I'd just recommend reading the lyrics over listening to the album the whole way through. It's more good than bad, but the bad is really hard to look past, unfortunately. I'm still comfortable giving it a 7/10 for the opening half, but I can't see it going any higher than that. This hurts me more than it hurts you, Seventh Son. I really want to love this record!

[mariacallous]

PARIS — European elections are meant to be worthy but boring exercises in centrist coalition building. Not this time.

A surge in far-right populism in France provoked President Emmanuel Macron into calling a high-risk national election that could determine the future not only of his country but of the European Union itself.

Across the Continent it was a good if unspectacular night for center-right and far-right parties and a terrible one for liberals and especially greens.  

But in France, the far-right National Rally, led by Euroskeptic and NATO-skeptic firebrands, completely crushed Macron’s liberal Renaissance and all other contenders.

The National Rally is on course to win 31.5 percent of the vote — more than twice the 14.7 percent projected for Macron’s liberal Renaissance party.

In a high-risk gamble to regain the political initiative, Macron bet that voters will turn back the far-right tide and show Marine Le Pen’s National Rally cannot win at a national level.

“France needs a clear majority in serenity and harmony. To be French, at heart, is about choosing to write history, not being driven by it,” Macron said.

Mujtaba Rahman, Europe head at Eurasia Group, a risk consultancy, reckoned the bet would pay off. “It will almost certainly put a brake on Le Pen,” he said.

Le Pen declared her party “ready to exercise power,” and told her ecstatic followers: “I can only welcome this decision.”

The far-right surge in France was replicated elsewhere in Europe on a dramatic night of upheaval in EU politics. In Berlin, Olaf Scholz’s ruling coalition parties were beaten by the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party, which came second to the conservatives. Far-right parties were also on course to make gains in Austria, the Netherlands, Spain and Italy, according to early estimates.

In France, the National Rally’s performance in the upcoming snap election on June 30 and July 7 will be closely watched as a harbinger of whether Le Pen — long the also-ran of French politics — can ride her party’s momentum into the presidency in 2027.

As president of the world’s seventh largest economy, Le Pen would almost certainly rock the EU to its foundations, prioritising patriotic interests over international collaboration. Celebrating her party’s win in Sunday’s EU vote, she said the result should send a message to Brussels and “put an end to this painful epoch of globalism.”

Accused of flirting with the Kremlin, she has both vowed to yank Paris out of NATO’s integrated military command and would challenge the authority of the EU executive, which she once called to abolish.

Like Macron, Le Pen suggested France had come to a historical turning point.

“Tonight’s message, including that of dissolution, is also addressed to the leaders of Brussels,” she said. “This great victory for patriotic movements is in line with the direction of history, which is seeing throughout the world the return of nations.”

Macron’s snap decision to dissolve the National Assembly was met with disbelief by his supporters, with several people screaming “Oh no” as he spoke to a crowd in a televised address from his party headquarters in Paris.

In contrast, jubilant supporters of the National Rally party celebrated as Macron announced the dissolution of parliament, something the party had called for as the scale of their victory became apparent.

They sang “Dissolution, dissolution!” as they watched Macron at an electoral event where Le Pen took to the stage.

Le Pen spoke on stage next to the National Rally’s lead candidate for the EU election, Jordan Bardella. As she finished speaking, the audience of several hundred sang the French national anthem, the Marseillaise, waved French tricolors and visited the buffet to get more drinks.

The lead Socialist candidate Raphaël Glucksmann responded to the triumph of the far right by saying: “Everywhere in Europe, we are witnessing a wave that is shaking our democracy.”

[heldflesh]

TALES OF SABRY — FAIRUZ IBRAHIM.

──  (  tamino.  genderqueer,  he / they.  )  recently  seen  trapezing  across  a  lone  stage,  spotlights  dancing  off  beaded  sweat  –  audience  a  crowd  of  one,  half - asleep  or  otherwise  dead,  spirit  rising  from  still  body  in  a  chant;  encore,  encore!  bravo!  at  verve:  enter  FAIRUZ  IBRAHIM  SABRY.  twenty  six  years  old  &  a  scorpio,  usually  observed  in  tits  out;  slivers  of  chainmail  barely  concealing  loving  shark - bites  alongside  rib,  fishnet  your  only  true,  loyal  companion  –  starfish  spurs  against  heeled  boots;  aquamarine  could  never  ;  fairuz  is  a  devotion  visitor  known  within  their  circle  as  MADCAP  +  GRANDIOSE,  a  perpetual  hum  of  knife  prty  by  deftones  on  salted  mouth.  something  of  the  HUBRISTIC  +  CAVALIER  follows,  regardless  …  something  to  do  with  an  incessant  need  to  entertain  and  please,  for  oneself  and  for  others,  one  complete  theatrical  act  ,  perhaps  ?  strange,  what  a  SIREN  can  get  up  to.  they’ve  been  heard  waxing  lyrical  about  a  dream  they  had  recently,  a  strange  tale  of  lightning  against  stark  red  sea;  no  tell  of  morning  from  night  –  only  fools  dare  to  cross  the  threshold;  scaled  body  wrapped  around  splintering  wood,  ichor  flowing  from  lip  and  chest  –  harpoon  a  stake  upon  self  .  pay  no  mind  to  fanciful  star  -  gazing,  though:  rather,  mind  the  tangible.  focus  on  defense  being  a  performance  in  itself,  accusatory  points  towards  a  faceless  jury  and  judge  in  the  checkout  line  of  a  mini  mart  –  i'm  innocent,  your  honor!  hear  my  pleas,  hark  my  –  cue  one  dragged  away  by  smoothed  heels,  threats  brimming  lips  /  insatiable  hunger  and  the  habit  of  playing  with  ones  food  –  thoughts  bubbling  mid - air,  tom  and  jerry  sequence  of  cat  and  mouse,  mallet  to  head  –  cuckoos  circling;  almost  as  satisfying  as  the  kill  /  and  bone  an  accessory  –  so  sustainable  chic!  –  fish  spine  piercing  cartilage,  ribs  lining  lobe  –  cuffs  of  mysterious  vertebrae,  drilled  and  filed  and  –  .

... mentioning themes of IMPLIED MAN - EATING, SLIGHT BODY HORROR, INJURY, DEATH, and RESURRECTION. proceed with care.

with palms held out.

full name — fairuz ibrahim sabry.

nickname(s) — ruse, in a poor attempt to give himself a nickname ( did not stick ); pretty boy; puck ( perked up chee– ); narcissus, after method acting too hard– austin butler who?; others yet to be seen.

date of birth & age — october 29th, 19xx, physically twenty6.

gender / pronouns — genderqueer; he / him & they / them preferred, all welcomed.

sexuality — bisexual.

typing — siren, slut of the sea ( affectionate ).

occupation — unfortunate thespian; one man act; professional ( ? ) clown; cashier at oracle & oddysey.

astrology — scorpio sun, aries moon, leo ascending.

interests — cheap thrills. spotlight - induced sweat. anything that gleams or sheens, skin included. red meat & red wine & red lipstick in a very real, very french way. fishnet for more reasons than none. garnering attention. burlesque clowns. being a burlesque clown. six seas, don't bring up the seventh.

aversions — "deep" feelings. "deep" conversations. forced intellectualism, you can be pretentious and stupid! skeptics & nonbelievers. taxes. tax collectors. attention seekers, there can only be one ( it's them ).

next in queue — girls on film, mindless self indulgence; pain, boy harsher; slow, depeche mode; talking in your sleep, the romantics.

notable features — what's not to notice? knife - like teeth and an old scar where they nip into bottom lip every too - wide grin & lazy clown make - up; a triangle beneath every eye ( only two, for now ).

general disposition — too grand and generally delusional, but they wear it very well.

last known location — lifting himself back onto the rocks in a siren - dwelled cave like a baywatch wannabe, only to slip upon the surface and back into the water. hasn't emerged since out of hurt ego and deeply hitting embarrassment.

scrying mirror & kindred — mercutio ( romeo & juliet ), dorian gray ( the picture of dorian gray ), oberyn martell ( game of thrones ), theodore laurence ( little women ), emma woodhouse ( emma ).

what lurks in the past...

time is trivial beneath the ocean's surface; light no longer refracting, only vast blue encasing the young. first memory - first consciousness, an array of bubbles; thrashing and struggling, god mother's serpentine body wrapping around and around until all is still once more, until only bone is left to drift further down the depths.

their behavior is pack - like, school of sirens circling coasts like sharks, symbiotic and one; homes made of shipwrecks and reefs, underground caves and trenches, close to docks and ports and harbors, convenience - store runs for sailors and captains. it's rare that they break surface, walk among humans - entertainment best between selves and their food; happy meals best accompanied by toys.

fairuz is both alike and unalike them; a penchant for the finer, rawer things in life, metallic tang behind each sharp tooth, and a growing boredom, tree - like in their sternum. branching, rooting - blooming dissatisfaction with each coast they distance from. the sea felt stagnant, while every breach of ripple upon surface revealed new buildings - years meaningless to them, but everything to land dwellers.

curiosity, was all it was; curiosity all that killed them. separating from pack, intrigued by talks of a circus near - shore, a different sort of spectacle than drama between sister sirens ( they gave a mermaid's purse to you? but they gave one to me! you slu - ); fairuz became enthralled with the faeries who spun from silk, the witches who swallowed fire only to shoot fireworks from tongue - the ringleader whose smile pierced through every one of fairuz' hearts.

their visits upon land became more frequent, trailing the traveling troupe whenever able; need an incessant itch beneath their scales, a match against their ever - growing hunger. quick snacks became one, then two - doubling with each town or city swam across.

fairuz never heed the warnings of a red sky, human paranoia no toll upon their body; still broke surface, that fateful day, lightning serving them well - ship an oyster cracked wide, ready for taking. their hunger barely satiated when a whistle sung from behind; not a warning, but the sound of air tearing as a harpoon spit from its gun and ripped into their scaled flesh.

the sky was no longer red; no longer anything, the ocean's pressure luring them into their endless slumber; reminiscent of their youth, when they welcomed the sea's warm embrace like their own mother's. comfortable. warm. safe. do you wish to live, siren?

voice clear as day; like a whisper into their ear, soft and urging. you can live forever, if you please. if their consciousness was still awake - fairuz would've found the humor in being siren - called; instead, their spirit stirred inside them, hands pressed upon their former living shell. let us save you. let us free you. just say yes.

sirenkin, their family: the choice to leave was no one's but fairuz', one of their few regrets in life; visiting sirens of devo, do you know this fucker?

righteous fishermen with penchants for revenge: slow your rolls - fairuz' is just a little guy, a little fella! and they should be dead! right? ... right?

...comes to light in present...

five years resurrected, five years given to delphinium's traveling, theatrical circus troupe and one would've never guessed; a puzzle piece fitting just right against an entirely wrong picture, the epitome of a live, laugh, love sign hung crooked against a contemporary farmhouse kitchen wall - fairuz dazzles all. or pisses them off - either, or - all of the above; attention is attention, and fairuz craves it almost as much as they crave fle-

they awake the same everyday; a life - rattling exhale of breath, gasping and hoarse like the first time they reopened their eyes; almost comedic, hand trailing to the star - like scar upon their chest - a tale better left unsaid, in accordance to delphinium. they know best - better than fairuz, at least; knows what secrets are best kept, while fairuz spills open at any given moment, at any curious glance.

he's all emotion; nothing cool, nothing collected - only extravagant, demanding; eyes on them at all times. dramatics started at the blink of a single one of those eyes - constantly performing for an unknown audience, never caring if others are swept up by his current. takes good intentions and swallows them for his own benefit; you wouldn't trust a god, would you?

the circus settled in devotion just short of a few months ago; no signs of leaving yet - performances weekly, each and every weekend and occasionally wednesdays, if audience demands then who are they to gatekeep? fairuz lurks beneath the sea's rippling surface some days - sleeps behind the counter of oracle & oddsyey's other days; a siren needs a little spending money, after all; especially him, pockets usually barren and closets overflowing. otherwise can be found wherever there's a crowd.

traveling circus troupe [ menacing voice from behind, hey sis- ]: fairuz' found family. faeries and witches and humans and sirens and nymphs alike, all welcomed as long as they harness talent. don't ask why fairuz' is there; only delphinium knows.

a horde of angry lovers: a necessity in every town, devotion no different. fairuz is more wrong than right, would rather end up in a second grave than admit it.

...and carries into the future.

how long can a corpse walk for, before their magic runs out? before they've stolen all the energy left inside, until blood is shed once more - theirs and others, and others and theirs. prophecies tell of moon falling back into sea and never - rising once more, fallen on unwilling ears - fairuz' mostly, forever pig - headed, too busy gazing upon reflections.

how many enemies, can one make? scorned lovers of lovers, scorned friends betrayed for the slightest whim, abandoned on impulse. scorned family - sick of antics, of fairuz' thoughts that only revolve around himself.

fairuz never worries of the future. but perhaps they should.

prophecy - spewing nymphs: they heed not their warnings, demise be damned - you'd think fairuz would know better by now.

friends to enemies: a eventual happening, slow at first, but like all fire - the more it grows, the farther it spreads.

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

Hello! I am the anonymous person who wrote on October 24 that I finally saw Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One. And I did it in the cinema (finally) Initially I was going to limit myself to the first two paragraphs, but then… I'm terribly sorry, hahahaha

TLDR: I really enjoyed the movie, but I have questions about it.

I must say right away that it's completely useless for me to evaluate Dead Reckoning Part One without the upcoming eighth part. This is a movie where a lot of things happen and nothing happens at all 😄 Christopher McQuarrie and Tom Cruise put the characters in their places throughout the film, and now absolutely everything depends on the eighth part: if it fails, then the seventh part will fail. Chris and Tom have been saying lately that whenever they release a new film, they always want to outdo themselves with a new film together. Well, let's see what they will do with the eighth part, because splitting into multiple parts is something new for them.

That's why I can't say anything about Ilsa Faust: it's weird and sad and the most monstrous moment in the entire franchise, but at the same time we have no context at all. As I said, a lot depends on the eighth part. In the worst case scenario, only the first six missions will exist for me.

What bothers me most is the camera choices in this film. I mean, I get why they chose digital cameras, given the difficulties of shooting the Train Scene, the Motorcycle Jump, the Rome Car Chase. But if Fallout looked large-scale and majestic, DR didn't give me that feeling. However, I appreciated the dynamics during the conversation scenes. And these action scenes are freaking amazing. And I just love Dutch angles. I just hope the eighth film will give us great scenes on IMAX cameras like Fallout did, or at least we will see an improved version of the seventh film.

Mission Impossible wouldn't be Mission Impossible if it weren't for a bunch of small details that I would like to return to this franchise for. In this regard, the seventh film was no exception. Three things that have come to my mind right now:

In my opinion, Dead Reckoning Part One has a cool way to create dynamics by splitting into two moods: there's a dark direction in one scene, and Ghost Protocol-style humor in the next one. Humor is once again used to poke fun at the rules of the franchise (the Shea Whigham thing is great. How come they didn't think of this before)

Vanessa Kirby is amazing as Hayley Atwell, lol. This episode reminded me the little scene where Benji pretends to be Solomon, but when Henry Cavill figures it out, Sean Harris starts acting like Simon Pegg which is one of the hilarious things in Fallout.

During the scene where Gabriel makes a comically pompous speech, the sound went off in our cinema hall for a second. People were like, “Huh?”, but then the sound came back. I think that was The Entity broking into our cinema and breaking the fourth wall, lol. But seriously speaking, did you pay attention to the sound of the Entity after the closing credits? I wonder if it's just a reference or something more? I won't mind if it turns out that the Entity hacked the seventh movie and somehow Ilsa is alive.

So, I'm looking forward to the eighth film for which Tom and Chris will have to shoot the biggest stunt in the franchise: the reasonable return of Ilsa Faust.

Hi! Glad you watched the film and really happy you enjoyed most of it. Thank you for sharing your thoughts! I agree about digital cameras and since they are getting 3 weeks of IMAX for MI8 hopefully it will be shot for IMAX, the feel is definitely different. And yes, of course, hopefully things get explained and expanded in the next film so we can see the whole picture and decide how MI7 ranks in the franchise.

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 7.7

“I’ve only been in… I’d guess six or seven really serious, dangerous situations, since I awoke this spring,” Avery told Laila.

I'm reminded of things I've seen from Worm, can't remember if canon or from fanfic, about the ridiculously high combat and death rates in Brockton Bay

“But I’m going to use a tortured sports metaphor here…”

of course you are :)

“I like how you started talking about sports as a thing in general and immediately went to ‘ice’.  It’s obvious what your favorite sport is.”

I enjoy that Verona dunks on Avery for being a jock as much as I do

“Says the girl who barely pays attention in ninth grade gym, or eighth grade gym, or seventh grade gym,” Lucy cut in.

oh big mood. Though actually I stopped having to pay any attention after eighth grade, since my high school was illegally not enforcing state PE requirements

“Gotta use these moments,” Avery told Laila. “I think that’s the difference between top practitioners and lesser ones."

going to be honest, this would not be reassuring

I’d even say it’s a good thing for mankind. Even if the deals are unfair, it’s a chance for those who had none. None at all. For most, the station of life was a crushing, unavoidable pressure. Born a peasant schlub, die a peasant schlub. No time or chance to do anything else. The deals gave a way.

Somehow I doubt the school or practitioners would tell it this way

“They get their payment or pretty much nothing,” Lucy said.

is there a way for them to pay off the brownies? I'm not sure what they would offer though

"Knife throwing?  Did an Oni teach you one or two tricks and you made that your entire plan?” “No,” Reese said, defensive. “…four tricks.”

only four tricks, and they get weaker every time he uses them, and he'll have trouble with standard practices...

But that’s good to bring up, Reese, boy.

honestly, Toadswallow seems like a good teacher. I had assumed his work involved more demonstrations of what goblins get up to, but this is a good lecture, and Liberty clearly adores and respects him.

Goblins are random but you’ve got a nice matching collection?  Must be meant to be, so you better get on board, little nuggets.  Then the more they believe it…” “The more it actually happens?” Avery asked.

Love that magic in the Otherverse works on the principle of "If you build it they will come" (they being magic)

“You’re smart, you’re good, you’re strong. We’ll get you squared away. But for right now I want to hear from these others you’re working with."

please remember your supporting cast.

But yeah, I think they're so used to working either just the three of them, or calling in allies as support and council but not as part of the decision-making process, that they're mostly ignoring the other students

The brownies are going after the headmaster and they’ll be coming back our way. While they’re doing that, they’re not cooking. Kids are going hungry.

probably not helping planning meals that Shellie said she'd order in while disguised as Durocher, and I'm assuming has not followed up on that

Lucy was nodding, seemingly satisfied that Avery had laid down the law.  It felt good.  Avery just wished she hadn’t needed the go-ahead to do it, this time.

small steps. Also, I think Lucy is quicker to step in than most people, which is making this harder

“Laila Throop.  Large-scale curses.  I can’t use them on the staff or students, really.  Bristow would expel me and my parents would- it wouldn’t be good.”

hmmm. That doesn't sound great

“I guess I like a bad situation to feel under control.  John’s like that.  Reliable.” “Would you take him as a familiar?”

Lucy was also thinking about this earlier, that having John as a familiar would insulate her from having to take on a more direct combat role herself. I think it could be neat! He seems really dedicated to keeping them all safe, and I think he'd appreciate the sense of purpose Lucy brings.

“I can’t do it anyway, until you guys have made your choices for the big three.  It unbalances things.”

but yeah :( Just for narrative reasons, I don't see this happening

“If he takes over as Carmine, pretty much everyone seems to think he won’t hold that spot for long. Maybe, um, if you take him as familiar, it rules him out for that?” “If it does, you two are going to need to decide fast,” Lucy answered.

oh interesting. I like that Lucy would clearly choose John as a familiar if it would keep him safe. I wonder if that would be the case for other Others of Kennet? Would one or another of the girls offer to make them a familiar? Because apart from Alpeana, I don't really think so.

Other option is that it wouldn't keep him from being chosen, in which case I'm curious to see what would happen from having one of the judges of the region as a familiar.

“Set up the right sort of duel with the right terms… you can take next to anything you want as a prize.” “Including someone’s implement?”

that would explain what the Musser's are doing, though I'm assuming you need a particular setup/diagram/ritual to make it work, otherwise everyone would be doing this. I wonder if it works in reverse? Like if Reid tried to get Lucy's earring in a duel, but she won, would she get his nine implements? Or maybe only one would be at stake.

“Feels less like he’s been that knowledgeable about stuff all along and we’ve ignored it, and more like he’s been keeping a lot up his sleeve.” “Seeing more of this world like we are, I’m feeling like it’s a necessary thing for survival,” Lucy said.

probably a lot safer for a goblin to be just a bit smarter and more knowledgeable than standard around new practitioners, rather than let them see how experienced he actually is

Bending down was starting to make her arm and upper chest hurt, where Shellie’s whip had slashed her across the collarbone. It felt like she was pulling at it.

just realized Avery has not been thinking/noticing her injury at all this chapter before now. Not sure if it's just a minor hurt or conservation of detail, or if this is something closer to how Verona's chapters often skip over her emotions.

one tall and stylishly dressed in a way Avery sorta wished she could emulate

I think she's talking about Musser here, went back and checked the description from a few chapters back, and he's described as looking like a hollywood agent, blazer+tshirt combo. I can see that for her, sort of casual dressy masc?

My way?  It does work.  It does give us the organization and means of stopping what needs to be stopped, and building what needs to be built.

incredibly ominous coming from a guy like Bristow

you’re an equivalent to barbarians, at the same time I’m trying to bring civilization to the practice

... I would love to see a mundane AU where Bristow gets fired from his teaching job after being canceled on twitter after a clip of him talking like this goes viral

Laila ran for a gap between the brownies.  A pretty obvious trap.

I'm assuming this is what Kevin did

She used what she’d picked up in Zoomtown to slip between them, used her shoes for boosts of speed when she was confident she wouldn’t hurl herself into a tree trunk or branch.

a) I like the Zoomtown benefits, they're coming in handy b) still keeping an eye out for the moment those shoes fail, and worried about how much Avery is relying on them

Avery didn’t go.  She looked back, watching as Tashlit laid a hand on Laila, then pulled it away.  There was no glow, there was no healing. Tashlit shook her head.

oh. oh fuck. I didn't expect anyone to actually die, not this early, not in such a mundane way.

[endlessrise]

As you all know if you have been paying attention. The Tsufruian lives on the same planet as my Saiyan race. They provide to the planet great intelligence and, as such, the planet has advanced technology and science beyond most of the planet within the sixth universe. But, there is more to them, as they have evolved a bit differently from the one in the seventh universe. They happen to have more intelligence than their counterparts of seven and two and a body adapted to the use of ki as well as the combat. They have evolved to be equivalent in fighting potential to my race of Saiyan.

But that's not all. In addition to having gained a body and a fighting potential equivalent to that of a saiyan. They have access to all the functions of their super brain. Meaning that they have access to telepathy, telekinesis, and psychokinesis arts. It is even possible that the most potent of them can unlock their physical and mental potential due to mental manipulation. Then come the other changes, like their lifespan. A lifespan of 475 years, white hair and bright eyes. Like the saiyan, they can reach 243.84 centimeters at most.

They possess a serpentine and reptilian constitution, somewhat similar to my saiyan. Therefore, it is extremely hard to pierce their skin in general. In the past, they had scales and a tail. Enough to be often misunderstood for a saiyan by the outsiders. It would be impossible to take the current generation of Tsufruian for a saiyan, as they are different inside and outside.

[murder-popsicle]

@darkkssiren

Jane had been in Gotham for almost two weeks, after spending nearly a year tracking down HYDRA agents across the globe. She’d dealt with the high profile targets in Gotham months ago, when she had been free of HYDRA’s control for only a few weeks, but as she’d traveled to other cities and collected more information, she’d learned the identities of more agents whom she’d missed the first time around. Now she was back to mop up those people who were left.

It might seem counterintuitive, given the number of potential witness in a crowd, but Jane had always found it easier to go unnoticed in the city. She’d grown her hair out since escaping from D.C., and she wore it loose under her hat so that it fell forward and helped hide her face. Really, her biggest problem was the temperature; it was May now, and the weather was warming up. But despite the heat Jane had to keep her jacket and her gloves on, to hide her prosthesis. There was no way she could blend into a crowd with that on display.

With her head tipped downward and her hands in her pockets, she ambled through the streets. They were dark, but hardly empty; Gotham had a vibrant nightlife, and there were often clusters of people on the sidewalks in front of the restaurants and bars. To them, Jane was just another passerby, an anonymous shape not worth paying any notice to.

That was exactly what she wanted.

After a few blocks, she turned left and then left again, heading into the shadows between two office buildings. Both were dark – no one was working late today – but that suited Jane’s purposes just fine. It meant that there was no one there to see her as she scaled the side of one, climbing up until she could swing herself onto the fire escape.

She continued her way upwards, stopping on the seventh floor. From here, with the help of her scope -- no rifle, just the scope -- she could see across the street and straight through the windows of Kelly Phillips’ apartment.

If the records Jane had found in the base under that warehouse in Boston were correct, Kelly Phillips was the financial manager of Gotham’s biggest HYDRA cell. And Jane had every intention of killing her eventually, but first she wanted to collect as much information as she could. She’d need to search the apartment, and for that, she needed to know Phillips’ habits and routines.

Did she live alone, or did she have roommates? Did she perhaps have a family? Did she have any pets? What time did she leave for work? What time did she get home from work? What time did she go to bed? How often did she go out? Was her apartment alarmed? Staking the apartment out would answer some of those questions.

The Winter Soldier had been a professional. And Jane might not be the Winter Soldier anymore, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to use the skills that she’d spent seventy years honing.