#so its invalidating to be 'left alone' when you used to have allies who could relate to your life choices/wishes haha

[fitzrove]

Not only have several of my former classmates gotten married, just found out that now one is having a kid?? 😭😭 just reiterating: i cant believe some people my age are doing that dklsldls. Where do they find time to work/study AND develop intricate crown prince rudolf headcanons once they do that

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ruth Ben-Ghat at Lucid:

The benchmark of democratic political systems used to be elections, and the practice of holding elections was often used to determine whether a country could be classified as a democracy. Today, as "electoral autocracies" take hold around the world, that's no longer the case. Many illiberal leaders come to power through elections, and then manipulate the electoral system to get the results they need to stay in office. As the U.S. election approaches, it’s useful to remember that the history of autocracy is the history of war on the idea and practice of free and fair elections. For authoritarian leaders on the right and the left, allowing a population to determine through their votes who is in government and for how long is unthinkable. Why should lesser beings decide the fate of the strongman, who alone can lead the nation to greatness?

Fascist dictator Benito Mussolini derided elections as a “childish game” that had “already humiliated the nation for decades.” Il Duce replaced democratic elections with occasional plebiscites. In 1934, as he prepared to invade Ethiopia and was dealing with increased internal unrest, he staged a vote. Italians were actually weighing in on a purge of the political class: a single list he had approved of nominees for seats in Parliament, with the choices YES or NO. The real point of the exercise was to show Italians and the world that he had popular approval for his governmental measures. To that end, voting was “assisted” by Fascist "poll watchers," (squadrists in black shirts, armed with knives), and the regime’s communications about the vote can be summed up as “vote yes or else,” in the Fascist manner. This propaganda piece, on the façade of Palazzo Braschi in the center of Rome, depicted Mussolini's face as a kind of death mask, suggesting what could happen to those who voted no. The result of the plebiscite --99.85% YES, and only .15% NO--suggests that Italians got the message.

Today’s autocrats may keep elections going, but they won’t hesitate to game the competition by finding ways to silence rivals. Here’s Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan in 2018 when CNN asked him if he was a dictator. "Here we have a ballot box...the democracy gets its power from the people. It's what we call national will," But in advance of the 2023 Turkish presidential contest, Erdoğan sentenced popular Istanbul Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu to several years in jail. That way İmamoğlu could not be the opposition candidate. The newer autocratic tactic, facilitated by disinformation, is to discredit elections before the election is held so the public will believe you when you say, in the event of defeat, that the whole contest was “rigged” against you or invalidated by fraud. If the authoritarian is able to marshal his party and allies into sustaining the falsehood in public, then the idea of an illegitimate election can gain traction. This is called institutionalized lying: when a lie that is particularly important to the leader and his survival in politics becomes party doctrine. Then anyone who wants to have status in the authoritarian party or state must perform the lie in public, or at least refuse to refute it. Propagandists know that a lie, when repeated with enough frequency, becomes familiar and eventually can be taken as truth.

[...] The outcome of this scenario In Brazil offers an example of gatekeeping as democracy protection. After President Jair Bolsonaro lost the 2022 election, he decided to try and replicate the Donald Trump playbook, claiming that the election was rigged and planning an insurrection for January. Stephen Bannon and Jason Miller were among his advisors. Lack of military participation was among the reasons for the failure of Bolsonaro’s insurrection. Brazil had a military coup in 1964, which led to a military dictatorship that only ended in 1985. Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva acted promptly to prosecute participants. In 2023, Bolsonaro was convicted of abuse of power in office and banned from running for office until 2030 for spreading lies about election fraud. In America, Trump, who incited a far bloodier insurrection, continues to maintain he won the 2020 election as he prepares to possibly contest the 2024 outcome. Trump has worked hard for almost a decade to get Americans to give up their quaint ideas about voting as a valued democratic right. He has conditioned them to see democracy as a failing system, and to view elections as an inferior and unreliable way to choose leaders.

Ruth Ben-Ghiat’s Lucid post on how elections are the enemy of the autocrat is a must-read.

[clairethecutepup]

Social Media Won't Fix Your Loneliness and Other Problems...

Social media, something we essentially can't separate from our offline lives these days-- whether we want them so or not. However, for all its benefits it may offer, very rarely can it ever be used as a problem solver... Case in point, it won't solve your personal issues of invalidity or loneliness-- despite the "social" aspect that allows engagement with others, including in "validating" manners. If anything, it can worsen those very problems or simply be enough to ruin your day. I know, it's nonsensical to lecture, "Don't do this!" or "Don't do that!" and leave it at that. So, I won't and actually tell you how to lessen it's hold on you, even if not completely. After all, I figured out my own way for my personal vices: loneliness from "stir-craziness," and a desire for peoples' attention and praise.

In fact, I'm starting to think that's exactly why I had some odd, emotional issues stemming from something like Corn Kidz 64: it hits a nostalgic nerve, taking me back to earlier days. When I was younger, I'd generally have school be my only time of having others to engage with-- if I didn't bother them-- or instead play with the younger children my mom took care of and had to focus on. When middle school came and I was old enough to be left home alone, it'd essentially just be me most of the time. Think of yourself repeating the pandemic's "stay at home" order every Summer, since you can't really leave the house and all that. Naturally, and being of age, social media would become a habit.

Likewise, it was around the time my creative desires were at an all-time high, and now I finally had the chance to share things I made. Unfortunately, being a beginner and eager kid, it wasn't the warmest reception. It wouldn't be until my first ever Deviantart account, around half a year later, that people would be a tad more supportive and friendlier (this was the early 2010's). Of course, not everyone was suddenly nice to me, I still got "called out" for making content of terrible quality. 

Naturally as a result, it led to developing my first social media vice: the need for validation, even all these years later. After all, you "gotta prove them wrong" and "prove I'm talented," prove that you can make your dreams of creating beloved content that's spread far and wide come true. Even though, you'll forever be resentful of your past self for not starting out as well and costing yourself a "head start" in achieving that goal, regardless of if achieved or not. Given how nostalgic CK64 is and how it generally feels like a game I would've also enjoyed in school, and even make content of back then, it’s no wonder it hits such a strong nerve. Honestly, thank goodness Bogosoft never went through with Final Freekend's 2011 release (the "prototype"), I would've probably subjected the goats and Ally to inclusion in less quality-filled content.

So yeah, again CK64 fandom (if any of you are reading this), I'm sorry for the past decree of disinterest in working on further content related to the game. If you're wondering what my discouragement problem was, it was probably that: being mentally transported back to days where I had to prove I could make good stuff, too, and feared possible annoyance at me for simply sharing what may not be "good enough" or I’m doing something to make me unappealing. I mean, I found out it was the truth with some people, but who honestly should care? It doesn't undo the past nor is it still the past, and it won't fix my vices to suddenly have everyone declare me their favorite person and that I make their favorite content.

No, only I can fix that-- just like you can, too, with whatever vice causes you to seek out social media. I can fix the loneliness, by spending less time within the room I rely on for digital work; I can fix the need for validation and all, by focusing less on completing things and more on making the process of completion fun or relaxing. I try to curb the habit of staying home as often as possible, learning to make myself go out there and actually feel ready to stay home for the day; I try to stay away from my phone and wane myself away from checking notifications.

True, there is no "cure" for such vices and we'll all still feel their emotional effects upon us, but we can weaken its hold. You also might not be able to have the solutions I do, like it being safe enough nor simply possible to just sit outside of your living space. But, you always have a solution that doesn't have to be a permanent escape from whatever mental, psychological or other type of torment your social media vices cause. If you can't go outside, you can instead use the internet to educate yourself, hone your skills-- things more enriching than "how many people 'appreciate' me and care?" They also have special spaces online dedicated to just chatting, if you find yourself strongly needing social interaction and the web is your only option. I believe Silverline has an online service as much as a phone one...? Or, you could always look up: "chatting spaces to avoid loneliness." There's also "offline" solutions, like traditional artwork or a good book. 

It may be hard at first, avoiding your "doom-scrolling" or need to see if ol' Claire here had "redeemed" herself, but it's not impossible. You only need to find the solution that works for YOU, and it can be whatever YOU want-- no matter how "pathetic" or otherwise it could seem to others, don't be afraid to do what makes you feel most comfortable and less likely to feel pushed into behaving drastically. 

Remember, don't make social media your world nor solution, only keep it as a means of enjoying what others share and especially enjoy sharing what you want to. Unfortunately, I'll be limiting my own "enjoying" of others' things, at least for the time being; but one day, when I get my issues fully sorted out, I'll be back to enjoying others' CK64 and other independent forms of fan-content and otherwise.

Good luck to you guys, too.

[worstloki]

Part 1

--[official naming and legal rights ceremony for Morgan]--

Tony: you know what would be really funny? Pepper: Tony... Tony: THINK about it Pep- how can you say no to this once in a lifetime opportunity? Pepper: Rhodey and Steve. We already decided. Tony: ok fine. FINE! I'll just give up the chance for our daughter to have two literal powerhouses watching over her Pepper: one of them isn't even alive! Tony, signing the paperwork: he was the dodgy one anyways! Pepper: oh g*d tell me you didn't Tony: too late. our daughter's got 1 thunderer and 1 deceased trickster listed as her ~*godparents*~ and no punishment you come up with will ruin this moment for me Pepper: its fine, this is fine, it wont even be legally binding since you can't have two male godparents listed so its invalid anyways, haha this is fine, everything is fine,,, Tony: i actually heard from Thor that Loki could be female if they wanted... Pepper: ... Pepper: TONY!! -- [later] -- Rhodey: dude did you seriously put LOKI down as a legal guardian for your kid instead of me Tony: well I wanted Thor but he insisted that I put Loki down too... something about honouring Asgardian tradition...? Rhodey: tradition is fine but isn't he DEAD? Tony: sure Thor thought he was dead 5 years ago, then again 4 years ago, and then again 2 years ago... but if he was alive he would have already, statistically speaking, shown up by now Rhodey shaking his head fondly: okay i forgive you for replacing me with Thor and his deceased brother, but the next kid has my name on it. I've already called dibs with no takebacks, okay? Tony: one kid is already keeping me busy enough, honeybear... 

---[3 years later]---

Tony: And. I. Am. Iron Man... *snaps* Thanos' army: *disintegrates* Tony: *taking his last breathes* Pepper: you can rest now... Loki: *shoves Pepper aside and pulls the gauntlet off Tony* Pepper and Rhodey and Peter who were standing around tony: LOKI ?!? Dr Strange: no SToP you cant juST do THAT- Loki, taking out the time stone: why not Dr Strange: if you change anything now it'll ruin the timelines!!! Loki, reversing time on Tony and bringing him back to life: that's not how time works, Dr. Supreme Dr Strange: It’s Strange, and- Loki: Yes, I agree, it is strange that you decided to let Earth's best hero die when literally every infinity stone is rigHT HERE Dr Strange: but its wrong to misuse their pow- Loki: Then it’s a good thing I'm evil and don't care Dr Strange: buT- Loki: no need to worry, I'm only helping you heroes out this one time because apparently while I was stardust Tony chose to give me partial ownership over his child so now i am bound to care for it  Pepper, remembering that Loki is legally Morgan’s godparent: oh my g*d   Rhodey: well, I bet Tony didn't expect this Tony, speaking in his sleep: frickity frackity Loki, looking at Tony disapprovingly: I agree.  --[a week later]-- Tony: okay, so like, i don't want to seem ungrateful for you saving my life, but i only wrote your name down to get Thor - Loki, annoyed: Yes I figured as much Tony: -yes but if you've saved my life I was wondering exactly how bound you are to help and how far you're willing to go to watch over her Loki: does this have anything to do with the 18+ end-of-the-world-celebration party at the end of the week? Tony: maybe Loki: *stares at him* Tony: ...okay, yES… do you think you could make sure Morgan is alive and well and safe while I go? It’s clear you don't appreciate being forced to be her godparent so if you do it I'll even get your name off the legal documentation by the end of the week and you can leave after Loki: If you so much as try to remove my name when it is THOR that has been neglectful of his duty and has been ignoring the implications of having a child under their name then I will have no choice but to hit you over the head with stormbreaker Tony: oh. okay. no name removing then that's cool i guess just please don't smite me or i'll dob to thor that you're going to try touching his shiny axe and have are regressing on your journey to goodness  Loki, pulling stormbreaker out of his pocket dimension: I’m afraid you’re too late to warn him about the potential theft of his favourite beer opener. I will, however, watch Morgan over both days of the party, IF I also get put in charge of the spider child and Wakanda's princess Tony, doing his best to ignore the huge axe: how do you even know about them, weren't you snapped for the past 5 years?? Loki: I understand that they're not allowed to attend the party either and will not have any parents or guardians available to care for them at the time... Tony: you're not going to try any funny business right...? even if you wont hurt Morgan how do i know you wont lay a hand on the others?? I cant just trust you to watch over a bunch of kids no matter how much bruce and thor vouch for your sanity Loki: you can trust I wouldn't risk scarring Morgan like that if you don't trust i wouldn't intentionally attack a bunch of literal children Tony: hmm okay I guess I’ll just cross my fingers and hope you don't relapse into villainy  Loki: wonderful. inform the children that I will pick them up 2 hours before the time of the party. Tony: need me to get you a ride? Peter lives close but Shuri lives just a tad bit out of walking range Loki: no thanks I'll be fine

---[at the party]---

Pepper: YOU LEFT HIM ALONE TO CARE FOR MORGAN?! Tony: he’s been doing a fine job of it while we’re around, and besides, it’s not like I left her with him alone or anything! Pepper: No, of course not Tony, that would be too simple, no, you left LOKI in charge of not JUST our child but also Peter, and the PRINCESS of Wakanda too Pepper: do you have any idea how badly this could work out?! putting aside the political disaster that would occur if something happened to Shuri the ethical considerations alone make strangling you very tempting right now Rhodey: Pepper, Tony would never do anything to put Morgan or Peter or even Shuri in danger... he knows they're kids, right Tony? Tony: Peter can benchpress a mag-lev and Shuri can design one in 60 seconds flat. I’m not concerned because they'll be fine even if he does try to pull off anything even 2% evil! Pepper: *not impressed* Tony: some sort of Asgardian binding magic was involved so he literally cant try to inflict any harm on Morgan, and that includes emotional distress just for the record, believe me, i checked Rhodey: what do you mean 'i checked', what did you do man Tony: Morgan wanted ice pops the other day so i told her to ask Loki Pepper: TONY he's a WAR CRIMINAL Tony: so anyways Morgan went up to the ally we’re kindly hosting - who literally takes residence on whichever couch is closest to Morgan by the way and it’s super funny to watch him move between couches every time she leaves the room - and he's reading when she asks if he'll get an ice pop with her Tony: and I've tried talking to him when he's reading and it does NOT end well Pepper: and you sent MORGAN to do it anyways?? Tony: and he said no at first, which was predictable, right? but then Morgan got sad and a bit teary-eyed and she asked again and when he saw she was sad he literally jolted in pain and he put the book aside and got up so fast to immediately lead her to the freezer to get some  Rhodey: so, what? he physically cant say no to Morgan or some wacky voodoo thing compels him? Tony: That is the conclusion I have come to with my findings, yes. It seems he can’t intentionally do anything to hurt her in any way. So Morgan and her new friends are completely safe, sweetie. Pepper: I'm leaving to make sure she's doing okay... Tony: I also installed cameras just to make sure no one gets murdered without thorough evidence to convict him, if that helps? Pepper: If you can get the live feed to go to my phone I'll consider staying Tony: deal.

--meanwhile, in Tony's house--

[Peter Shuri Morgan and Loki are wrapped up in blankets and watching The Hobbit. Loki is doing some paperwork and Morgan is drinking orange juice while Peter and Shuri share some popcorn] Peter: so are we going to talk about how we're watching a movie with the person who attacked New York with an alien army a few years ago or not Shuri: he was not acting of his own volition so i thought we were excusing that Loki, looking up: you are literally the first person to have mentioned that Peter: but Mr. Stark said that-- Shuri: footage of the 2012 attack conclusively showed that his eye colour changed before and after he had been subdued the final time, which was a phenomenon associated only with being under the influence of the sceptre containing the mind stone  Peter: he does magic though! it could be a trick or the cameras could've been too grainy to tell Shuri: They weren't. But the changes in his behaviour and speech patterns also indicate that he was being controlled or at least coerced to some extent. He's also sitting next to us doing paperwork and watching Bilbo sneak around a dragon. Loki: Congratulations, you are officially the only person from this planet for whom I can confidently vouch is not a- *covers Morgan’s ears* -complete imbecile. Shuri: Thank you. Peter: well, she is a genius Shuri: Yes I am, in fact I'm a genius that has the approval of Loki, which is even better, because I'm assuming he'll have some neat ideas on how to make a fool of T'Challa in my lab on camera more often Loki: I may have some experience in the making-a-fool-out-of-my-brother department Shuri: wonderful! we can brainstorm after the movie :) Peter: I don't have a brother to prank :( Loki: I can fix that Peter: ...what Shuri: yeah, what?? Loki: oh I meant that if you wanted I could legally become your godparent and then you'd have Harley and Morgan as prankable siblings Peter: you know what? I'm actually considering it Shuri: how angry do you think T'challa would be if I made Loki an official Wakandan by saying he's my godfather because I think that would get a hilarious reaction out of him Loki, nodding: According to Asgardian tradition claiming a godchild forms an irrevocable bond and he would have to accept that his sister has someone who pulls off legendary pranks keeping her safe from any attempts at his retaliation Peter: that’s so cool and i'm definitely accepting your offer Shuri: and I'm joining in because i have a folder filled with evidence that Loki was mostly innocent of the New York attack but some videos of us together pulling off harmless pranks would make fine contributions to it Loki: wonderful! Loki, holding out documents and a pen: just sign here, there, and there, Peter: wait you've been sitting next to us filling out godchild adoption forms this whole time??? Loki: well actually I started out filling out the godparent-removal forms because Thor is an irresponsible buffoon and i refuse to share custody with him Peter: do you think i could get ~*Thor*~ to adopt me- Loki: Nopity nope. Too late. You've already signed the forms so you're stuck with me, and I refuse to share any of my friends with him Peter: aww you called us your friends Loki: you have no proof i said that Shuri, pointing to the camera in the corner of the room: but that hackable camera does >:) [peter jumps over the sofa and is going to retrieve the camera for shuri to get the blackmail material when he gets hit by a pillow. shuri says 'hey that was not nice' as she hits loki with her pillow. peter throws the pillow he has at loki. morgan yells 'PILLOW FIGHT!!' before joining in, and by the time they settle down again all of them have missed the ending of the film and have to rewatch the last 20 minutes before drifting off to sleep together on the floor in a patchwork of all their blankets]

---[later at the party]---

Tony: sorry pal, I'm a certified genius and even I don't know how she managed to carry around and slip Morgan’s papers to you when that dress has no pockets and her purse is barely large enough to fit a small-to-medium-sized wrench Rhodey: it was probably the same way she switched your drink for Thor's godchild renouncement forms when you weren't looking Tony, whispering: I think she has CEO paperwork powers Rhodey whispering back: you're only noticing now?

[pepper and tony get home the next day]

Pepper: i still cant believe you left Loki near the kids Tony: and i still cant believe you didn't know how to check the live feed and decided to ignore me the entire night instead of bothering to ask. clearly deep down you trusted my judgement and the decision to leave the kids in Loki's capable, mischiefy, slightly-insane but apparently reformed hands.

[yelling is heard from the living room and Tony and Pepper run in to find Loki Peter Shuri and Morgan sitting around wrapped in blankets and playing Mario Kart and exclaiming their thoughts very vocally. when they are noticed all the kids freeze and stare at Tony. Loki mumbles something about telling Tony he lost the bet since he did in fact manage to keep everyone alive and at that point even Pepper is staring (glaring) at Tony.]

Tony, realising the kids have bonded™: oh no. what have i done.

[annoyinglyjovialbird]

Voltron: Next Generation

Eventful Days: I

Word Count: 2895

Despite the reactions of the Arusians, the crew of the Coeus was allowed to stay on the planet for as long as needed. Kova wanted to fight it, but Shiro had already thanked the Arusian King for his offer. 

For days, the crew of the Coeus set themselves up for success by preparing the Coeus. This ranged from restocking food and medical supplies to repairing recognition software and everything in between. 

Cake and Liz carried on with life as normal while Allie was worried about Kova and Caleb drifting away from the group. Caleb still trained with Red every day, even if they fought each other for control, but at least he was in the lion. Kova wasn't. Allie heard language coming from the others that she had never heard before. She didn't understand a word they said unless it was a word she had heard before and only because it was Altean. 

Days had turned into weeks and Kova had piloted the Black Lion maybe three times besides the first escaping the cavern in the sea. They were well stocked in supplies, and the Coeus's seemingly endless list of repairs had shortened. Everything was on track. Everything was seemingly perfect. Even Allie knew it wouldn't last much longer as she stood in front of Kova's room door. With a deep breath and shaking her shoulders and arms, Allie knocked on the door. 

"Were you going to stab me for disturbing you?" Allie shrieked.

When it opened up, Kova was wearing a dark purple t-shirt with black pants and boots. Her hair was down her back in a long braid, long strands framing her face. Much to Allie's bewilderment, Kova had a knife in her hand, making the poor girl jump back. 

"What do you need, Allie?" Kova asked. At least she spoke. With a quick tuck, Kova had made the knife's blade disappear into her boot. 

"I, uh," Allie stammered. "It's a, um, it's complicated to explain." Kova had leaned into the doorway of her room. 

"Try your best, Allie."

"Uh, um, well," Allie began. Footsteps approached the girls, making both look down the hall. 

"Dad wants us on the bridge." Unsurprisingly, Caleb had Kova's attention.

"Did he manage communication?" 

"I think so." The pair walked off, leaving Allie alone in the middle of the hall. She stood there quietly, in front of the now-closed door. She was always so soft-spoken. Who did she think she was? She can't do this. How could she do this?

"Allie?" She looked up. Kova was poking her head around the corner to stare at her. "The meeting is for everyone." Approaching the girl, they went towards the bridge without another word. 

The screen came to life as communication between the Coeus and Earth became more secure. The teens had filed in, taking their designated seats. Shiro was standing just below Kova's podium and Kenny was becoming one with the shadows in the corner of the room. 

On Curtis's end, he hadn't told anyone else about these meetings. He was worried the media would be on top of the story, or worse, the case files would be leaked. He did, however, reassure the Holts. Kenny was alright. In space, but he was alright. They immediately demanded he is to be brought back, so Curtis hung up. There is no way the Holts were making demands when the situation with the Fire is getting worse and Voltron is back. 

On the Coeus, the teens could see the image of an empty conference room. Liz and Cake were playing a game of cards (where did they get those from?), while Allie fiddled with the hem of her white blouse. Kova was setting stuff up for the meeting and Caleb was staring at the screen. Soon enough, Curtis appeared on screen, causing all the teens to stop their tasks and look directly at him. 

"Hey, Pops," Kova said so calmly. 

"Where's Ken?" Curtis asked instead. They all turned to stare at the corner Kenny was holed up in, where he stared at the screen with big eyes. He was holding a book in his hands, curled up in a chair. "Your grandparents are worried about you." Kova's snort went unnoticed by Curtis, but Shiro gave her a stern look. 

"Can we begin this meeting?" Liz had asked, leaning back into her chair. "This is the first time we've been allowed in here."

"There is sensitive information that has been classified to cadets and low-rank officers," Curtis explained. "Kova and Caleb are aware of that information because they're—"

"The Colonel's kids." Liz, Cake, and Kenny said in a flat tone. Allie wanted to laugh at the others' expressions. 

"Unless the situation progresses more than what I've been told, I see no reason to worry you all." Shiro turned to Liz. She nodded her head, resting her head on her fist.  "Now, we can share some information about it but we have to tread carefully to avoid complete exposure."

"And this is?"

"The Fire you are fighting against is a resurgence of a former resistance group," Curtis said. 

"We already knew this." Liz turned her chair to stare at Kova. "What's new?"

"The mission," Curtis spoke instead. "Years ago, when the Fire of Purification first appeared, they wanted to cleanse the universe of all inferior species until only the strong and purebred Galra remained. The inferior species included but were not limited to humans, half-Galra, and existing Alteans." 

Liz couldn't tell if the pictures on the screen were Curtis's or Kova's doing, but it helped illustrate the facts. The pictures showed the destruction the Fire of Purification had left behind. It was almost apocalyptic. The pictures of the resistances against the Fire of Purification also showed up onscreen, as well as the fighters who led those resistance groups. A third picture showed three people with small Altean markings on their cheeks underneath their eyes. One had dark skin with white hair that had been piled into a high bun. She had pretty pink marks and blue eyes. Another had pale skin and blonde hair tied in twin ponytails and purple eyes with green markings. Allie’s eye’s had widened at the sight, but she said nothing. The third figure was, as Allie had pointed out, Emperor Coran. 

"The Fire of Purification had seemingly died with their leader, Sendak." A picture of the deceased general had appeared. "About ten years ago, we discovered how wrong we were." All the pictures onscreen had dropped away, disappearing as three pictures appeared. All three were insignias. One was a rough purple shape with the words 'Vrepit sa' underneath. The other had the insignias of the Fire of Purification, it's strange V with a tail with lightning bolts on either side of it in yellow. The picture in between the two was of the symbol on the armor of the mechas they had fought earlier. 

"The Fire now is interested in fanning the flames of hate among the planets who helped form the Coalition."

"That's still a thing?" Liz asked, to which she got a dramatic reaction from Cake. Cake's dad had helped start it, after all. 

"Have any of you noticed any prejudice against any members of your crew?" Without meaning to, all eyes went to Kova. Even with the King approving of her, the Arusians were reluctant to accept her help in any way, shape, or form. Kova knew it was because of the ransom and the Arusians didn't want to get involved.

"He's asking about Allie and Cake," Kova said, her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. "He already knows my status."

"Oh," Allie turned to the screen. "The Arusians have accepted us completely." 

"Good." Curtis had a screen in front of him, typing away the information the teens were telling him. "How's the training been going?" Once again, Kova had all eyes on her. 

"The King has allowed the training of the Lions on Arus, and we are currently in the process of making a plan." Curtis and Shiro both stared at Kova. 

"That is the lamest excuse I have ever heard." 

"Red is fighting for control, Blue has an inexperienced pilot, Yellow has been headbutting a wall in hopes of making a cave, and Green refuses to form a bond." The teens stared at Kova as she gave her blunt statement. "Not quite an invalid excuse."

"What about you and the Black Lion?"

"Don't ask me about practice when you've been scheduling these meetings."

Liz pretended to be eating popcorn as the exchange was happening. Caleb looked bored, leaning his head on a propped fist while Kova and Curtis stared the other down. Cake had been 'stealing' from Liz's popcorn bag. Allie resumed her fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

"The Lions chose their pilots," Curtis stood to full height. "Practice with them more often and the bonds will be formed."

"Dad, tell him it doesn't work like that."

"Takashi, remind her I worked with Voltron during the war."

"They didn't know your name!"

"You weren't born yet!"

"Enough," Shiro said, stopping the two. "Kova, I want the training plan finalized by tomorrow and in-motion by the end of the week." 

"Yes, sir."

"Curtis, continue with the briefing."

"Fine." Curtis collected himself, tugging his coat down. "Your task is to continue to monitor the Fire and its actions." 

If Liz did have a bag of popcorn, it would have fallen to the ground. There was no way Voltron was back and they wouldn't fight against the group who had attacked them. 

"This has to be a joke, right?" Liz sat up properly in her chair. 

"Griffin," Shiro said. 

"No, I'm serious," Liz glanced at Shiro and stared at Curtis. "They attacked us first, and we can't fight back?"

"Griffin," Shiro repeated.

"They've been doing this for ten years!" Liz stood up. "They have to be stopped!"

"It's classified information," Curtis repeated from earlier. "I can't tell you anything."

"It's not that you can't, you don't want to." Cake muttered. 

"Until next time, team." With that, Curtis signed off. The screen turned off, leaving the team in darkness before the lights turned on brighter than before. 

"Everyone except for Holt and the Colonel, report to the training room," Kova announced, turning on her heel. The other teens stood and followed Caleb to the training room, a level or two below the sleeping quarters. 

The training room was painted dark gray with large, two-story columns lining the walls. The white floor was painted in a hexagon shape in orange. Kova walked over to an alcove opposite the door while the other four stood in the center, one more awkward than the others. Kova returned with small sandwich bags. Inside each bag, there were two rolls of tape. Handing one to Caleb, Kova handed three to Liz while she hung on to one. Liz handed one to Cake and Allie. Allie stared at the tape in the baggie, not noticing the others put on their tape with ease. 

"Allie." The small girl's head shot up, watching Kova's every move. "Here, let me show you." Kova had crossed the floor towards Allie and showed the girl how to tape her hands. While Allie was being taught, Caleb looked around the room. A balcony covered by glass sat directly above the doorway they used to enter. Above their heads, the room was being lit by a bright blue light. Strangely enough, it gave a white glow. With Allie taped up, Caleb and Kova trained their teams until dinnertime. 

At least they had mats. 

"The Arusians have invited us to dinner," Caleb said to his sister. She was standing in the doorway to the bay, staring at the door. "If you wanna come."

"It's fine," Kova said. Curtis was right, and she knew that. She had to form a bond with the Black Lion. What're a few missed dinners with a species that doesn't accept you because of a ransom on your head?

"You need to relax."

"And eating dinner with the Arusians is relaxing?"

"It should be."

"Caleb." Kova turned to meet Caleb's eyes. "It's fine. I'll be fine. Go." With a huff, Caleb turned towards the elevator closest to the bridge. Kova turned to face the door, and could've sworn she heard roaring in the back of her head. With a swipe of her hand, the door opened. 

When it turned dark on Arus, the teens had been returning the Lions to the bay to mark off spots. The Black Lion had miraculously fit with its wings. Now, Kova had to take it out again. With her suit on, Kova sat in the chair inside the Black Lion's head. With a deep breath and a minute of silence, she led the Lion out of the bay. 

As fast as it could go, the Black Lion took off for the star-filled sky. Turning around, it stared at Arus. The blue and green planet was covered in swirly and fluffy white clouds. Kova had been training for this since day one. She was told she would never see the stars, and yet here she was. She was here for all the wrong reasons, but she was here. 

"Let's get some simulations underway," She said through a tight voice. The screens changed to a traditional training course and Kova moved her head until her neck popped. She would spend the next few hours training with the Black Lion while everyone else returned to the Coeus and slept. 

The next morning, Kova had a plan ready to go for the others. Red and Blue were paired up together, while Green and Yellow were paired up, while Kova would be training under Shiro's plan for the Black Lion. 

This happened for a week. A rinse and repeat every day. Red and Blue trained with each other on attacks, while Green and Yellow raced around Arus. The next week, Red and Green switched places. The third week, Green and Red worked together, and Blue and Yellow did the same. The Black Lion's training was becoming more intense, with the Coeus firing blasts and Kenny had managed to get the mecha from earlier to become semi operational. The last week was spent, not with the Lions, but in the training room again. The teens had their bayards and were learning how to use them. 

"Thank you for everything," Shiro said. The teens and Kenny were lined up behind him. Kova and Caleb stood on either side of him, with Cake and Allie on Kova's side and Liz and Kenny on Caleb's. "Truly, thank you."

Cake's bayard turned into the minigun. Allie's bayard had morphed into a bow. When she pulled back the string, an arrow made of blue quintessence formed. When she let it go, the arrow flew into the furthest wall and left a dent, but the arrow disappeared. Liz's bayard had turned into a long staff, and when she pressed a button, green blades appeared on both ends. Caleb's bayard had turned into a gun similar to the ones they boarded with more sniper characteristics. Kova's bayard had turned into a long, curved sword. When moved, the blade glinted dangerously. At least she knew how to use it.

Shiro, who had been watching from the balcony, had made up his mind. It was time to go. 

"Thank you for giving us hope again." The King clapped his hands together and bowed before the crew. The Arusians behind him followed his movements, many of them staring at Kova. "Please accept these gifts for all the help you've given us." Three large baskets were brought forward to the front of the crowd. Two of the baskets were filled and piled high with food. The third was filled with silver and copper coins. With a look at Shiro and getting a nod of approval, Kova moved forward to grab the third basket. The Arusians behind the King jumped back as Kova reached for the basket. 

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Kova said, bowing her head as she knelt before the King with the basket in her hands. Allie and Cake did the same, reaching their hands forward to grab the other two baskets. 

"Watch out for the Fire, my dear," the King whispered. "There are many who would take the ransom money." With a nod, Kova stood. Cake and Allie stood too, not having too much trouble with the baskets. With a final goodbye, the crew returned to the Coeus. They were in the air not much longer after that. 

Shiro was standing in the middle of the floor, staring out the window. When Kova spoke, he turned around to find all the teens making almost identical puppy eyes. Even Kenny was roped into this. With a sigh and a smile, Shiro stared at the team. 

"Can we go to the space mall, now?" Kova asked after five minutes of flight. All the teens had settled into their comfortable routine in their chairs. The covers were finally done. Caleb's cover was unfortunately covered in ladybug print. Allie's cover had pretty Altean designs in blue. Cake's yellow cover was decorated with green Balmeran designs. Liz's cover was completely green with a giant orange G on her headrest. If only she hadn't angered both Caleb and Cake, it could've been avoided. 

"Set a course for the space mall." He said. The teens cheered as Liz brought up the screen to set the coordinates.

[tomakeitbeautifultolive]

Hey I was just wondering on your interpretation of Jonerys in the books? Because according to the bad leaks we will get Jon killing Dany, but in the book version its pretty clear that these two will marry and I don't necessarily see how those two things jive with each other, unless we get a literal repeat of the Azor Ahai/Nissa Nissa bs with them🤷🏼‍♀️ Thoughts? Because I have given up hope for the show and need some reassurance on the books after reading all of them plus the history books,,

Look, anon. Even in the fucking show these two have been paralleled to death - in a way that inextricably links their lives together, as seen here and here and here. When you learn that when Ian McElhinney (Barristan Selmy) confronted D&D about how he thought it was too early to kill off his character, it made them want to kill him more, out of spite… it makes it pretty clear what D&D are doing.

In their effort to adhere to shock and subversion… they’ve left mounds of unused foreshadowing all over the place (I’m still working on a master post of unused foreshadowing and plot elements). As you might’ve guessed, Jonerys foreshadowing is among those casualties - such as Dany mentioning she may have to enter in a political marriage at the end of season 6 before setting sail for Westeros, or the four different instances that challenge Dany’s belief that she can’t have children, that her family hasn’t seen its end, and that Longclaw will go to Jon’s children after him. As of right now, none of the leaks indicate that any of this meant anything other than dialogue filler. If it was never intended to amount to anything, then the writers should not have included these lines at all, especially in a show that was cut down from ten episodes to seven. Way, way too much emphasis was put on challenging the notion Daenerys can’t have children. It’s what a good writer might call ‘trimming the fat’ from the story, otherwise, it does nothing but muddy up the story unnecessarily.

Jonerys aside, D&D have killed so much foreshadowing in the series just to make a shocking ending (which by the way, makes no sense at all). I was flabbergasted when I read this quote from 2013:

When I asked Benioff and Weiss if it was possible to infer any overall intentionality to the upcoming 10 episodes, they sneered. “Themes are for eighth-grade book reports,” Benioff told me.

Uh, what?

As you may have seen, I already recently covered why Jon shouldn’t care so much about the incest aspect - in the comments I received, there was a great point about how Jon has borderline romantic feelings toward his cousin Arya (who he believes is his half-sister), tending to think of her when he wonders what his love interest’s (Ygritte) body looks like under all those clothes. In the original outline for the series, Jon and Arya were supposed to end up together or at least be involved in a love triangle with Tyrion.

As you see, in the books, Daenerys has already been groomed for the reality of being wedded to her brother, so her nephew won’t be some grand depature from this. She’s a dragonrider, and if the shows are to be believed, Jon will be, too - and if the majority of fans are to be believed, then there might be something magical about Targaryen blood that makes them different or unique or magical, hence the incest.

When you look at just how finely crafted this book series by GRRM is… it makes it really hard to believe that he’d throw out all of his foreshadowing for shock value.

“It’s easy to do things that are shocking or unexpected, but they have to grow out of characters. They have to grow out of situations. Otherwise, it’s just being shocking for being shocking.”—George R. R. Martin

I think we can all agree that season eight of Game of Thrones is all about futility, shock, nihilism. So, check out this quote:

Q: Early on, one critic described the TV series as bleak and embodying a nihilistic worldview, another bemoaned its “lack of moral signposts.” Have you ever worried that there’s some validity to that criticism?

A: No. That particular criticism is completely invalid. Actually, I think it’s moronic. My worldview is anything but nihilistic.—George R. R. Martin

It was George who said we’d get a bittersweet ending, not D&D. It was George who said he wanted a LotR-style ending, not D&D.

While there are many conflicting quotes out there about GRRM’s ending vs. D&D’s… This recent article published right after episode 3 had some interesting lines:

“Of course you have an emotional reaction. I mean, would I prefer they do it exactly the way I did it? Sure. It can also be… traumatic. Because sometimes their creative vision and your creative vision don’t match, and you get the famous creative differences thing — that leads to a lot of conflict.”—George R. R. Martin

My interpretation currently is that yes, Jonerys is real in the books…

(just as it was in the fucking show until they decided to abandon all preestablished groundwork and foundation) …and has been thoroughly foreshadowed - and not in a tragic way.

First of all, the series is called ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ - while this stands for many things from literal to metaphorical, I’d say it absolutely encompasses Jon and Dany. I have some very unpopular ideas that ice actually represents Daenerys and fire, Jon. Whether or not I’m right about that, we have some hints that Jon will ultimately accept his Targaryen identity…

Subtle clue about who he is, in one of his true house’s colors:

“The next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.”Jon forced himself to smile back. “It was always my color.”

He idolizes historical Targaryens:

“Daeren Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne,” Jon said. The Young Dragon was one of his heroes.

He’d pretend to be Targaryens while playing as a child:

“I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out.

For Daenerys, we get this curious line:

“Mother of dragons, bride of fire…”

Bride could also be metaphorical in some way, sure, but let’s just say it’s literal. Jon is the dragon, the fire.

Okay, so for the books, I’ll try to hit the bullet points:

First and foremost, the pair are incredibly similar, both stepping into positions of rule after immersing themselves into a foreign culture, adapting to their way of life before making allies. Both Jon and Daenerys make grave mistakes while wielding power, and they learn from their mistakes. They’re being shaped into rulers.

Both fall in love, yet still feel alone:

“Her captain slept beside her, yet she was alone.” / "Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone.“

Daenerys dreams of her lover:

“It was never Jorah Mormont she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow.”

Jon is described as a shadow:

“A shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain.” / “He would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows”

Daenerys also dreams of life as a wife and mother:

“In her dream they had been man and wife, simple folk who lived a simple life in a tall stone house with a red door.”

Both dream of children they will never have:

“I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms.” / "I will never have a little girl.“

From Jon’s first chapter, there are hints that Benjen knows his identity and that family might someday be important to Jon:

"You don’t know what you’re asking, Jon. The Night’s Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor. You are a boy of fourteen, not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up.”

“I don’t care about that!” Jon said hotly.

“You might, if you knew what it meant,” Benjen said. “If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son.”

We have those quotes from Maester Aemon, that hint that Jon might choose love or a child over duty:

“What is honor compared to a woman’s love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms … or the memory of a brother’s smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.”

While yes, Aemon hints that it is both glory and tragedy, we’re coming off a long, long line of tragic Targaryen love stories - the difference here being that one of these Targaryens is out to break the wheel that destroyed so many of these star-crossed, doomed Targaryens loves (Rhaegar/Lyanna, Duncan/Jenny, Daemon/Daenerys, Aemon/Naerys, etc).

Blue roses are linked to Lyanna Stark or even House Stark in general. In a vision, Daenerys sees:

“A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness.”

Meanwhile, there is foreshadowing that Dany will help Jon’s effort against the white walkers with lines like these:

“He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three.”

Daenerys, herself, has a weird moment with some ants while she wakes in the Dothraki Sea, brushing them off of her body as they swarm over a wall:

“To them these tumbledown stones must loom as huge as the Wall of Westeros. The biggest wall in all the world, her brother Viserys used to say, as proud as if he’d built it himself.”

Around the same time, Jon is killed, whispering to his wolf:

“Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. He gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold…

Meanwhile, after ‘opening her third eye’ with some berries, Daenerys hears the call of a wolf all the way over in Essos:

“Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely.”

We can extrapolate that this is, in fact, Ghost… as first, there don’t seem to be wolves in the Dothraki Sea, but also this line from Bran also provides context:

“Here in the chill damp darkness of the tomb his third eye had finally opened. He could reach Summer whenever he wanted, and once he had even touched Ghost and talked to Jon.”

Now that we know Jon’s true name (at least according to the show), this curious line from Daenerys also hints she might marry Jon:

“A crown should not sit easy on the head. One of her royal forebears had said that, once. Some Aegon, but which one? Five Aegons had ruled the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. There would have been a sixth, but the Usurper’s dogs had murdered her brother’s son when he was still a babe at the breast. If he had lived, I might have married him.”

Meanwhile, Jon is infatuated with Val, a woman who sounds an awful lot like a precursor to Daenerys, who is a warrior woman with silver-pale hair… Jon is also reminded of Val’s hips and breasts and that she’s 'well made for whelping children’…

“The light of the half-moon turned Vals honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. The air tastes sweet.”

“Lonely and lovely and lethal, Jon Snow reflected, and I might have had her.”

“A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.”

As for GRRM, he told a helpful clue to director Alan Taylor circa season one of Game of Thrones:

“Anyways, he alluded to the fact that Jon and Dany were the point, kind of. That, at the time, there was a huge, vast array of characters, and Jon was a lowly, you know, bastard son. So it wasn’t clear to us at the time, but he did sort of say things that made it clear that the meeting and the convergence of Jon and Dany were sort of the point of the series. So, I was happy that a big step forward was taken in the episode I got to do this season is where he has fallen for her both, you know, emotionally and politically I think.”

But that’s not all. I did write a meta about the mother goddess Danu and her parallels with Dany - and this, to me, rings much more true to who Daenerys is in the books rather than whatever impostor is parading around in Dany’s skin on screen in season eight.

There is a lot of proof that GRRM puts a LOT of thought and detail into his books - even down to the Starks ‘howling’ and ‘growling’ and the Lannisters ‘roaring’. I’ve uncovered a cool trend where many of the names he assigns to characters reflect their numerological gemstone house colors - and the names he chooses all shed some light on the characters they are given to, such as Bran meaning ‘raven’ or Sandor meaning ‘defender of man’ or Gendry meaning ‘son-in-law’.

I’ve done a lot of thinking about these things, and I just cannot see GRRM throwing out all of his foreshadowing or all of the clever little things he’s been hinting at since book once, all for the sake of shock value or subverting expectations… That’s not his style and he speaks out against it.

Bearing that in mind, the clear mad queen is Cersei, who shares virtually every parallel to Aerys Targaryen - the way she tortures parent and child chained just out of reach from one another, the way torture sexually excites her, the way she was tortured into madness, and straight down to her wildfire use. Daenerys better fits the archetype of an anti-hero rather than a straight villain. With only two books left and still no signs of madness… I just don’t see it going down this way in the books.

As for whatever just happened with Daenerys, I’ve been given a compelling argument that in the books, as she squares off with (f)Aegon Targaryen, or, Young Griff, in an effort to expose the Mummer’s Dragon, she might accidentally set off these wildfire traps that make her look just like her father, and perhaps she even goes a little mad with grief.

Especially considering that ASOIAF is so heavily based on Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, which share countless parallels, such as:

Norn (White foxes)  → The Others (White walkers)

Sithi (Dawn children) → Singers (Children of the forest)

Witchwood  → Weirwood

The Storm King → Night’s King

Ineluki → Azor Ahai

Sorrow → Lightbringer

Black iron → Dragonglass

Nisse → Nissa Nissa

Hayholt Castle → Winterfell Castle

Green Angel Tower → Winterfell Crypts

Simon Snowlock (secret heritage) → Jon Snow

Princess Miriamele (disguised as a boy) → Arya Stark

Warring brothers King Elias/Josua → Stannis/Renly

Tailed star → Red comet

Black priest Pryrates → Red priest Melisandre

Daenerys is suspected to be the Princess Maegwin figure, a woman who “is forced to watch as forces conquer her people and is eventually driven to madness in her desperation to save them.”

You make a good point about Fire & Blood and ASOIAF prehistory, too. Aside from the doomed Targaryen love stories I mentioned earlier, we get another history book that basically gives us a rundown of various Targaryen ladies who never got to be queen. I’d say this book has a strong feminist message - and might even hint that the last vestige of House Targaryen just might accomplish what her foremothers could not - finally becoming the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Lastly, I’ll leave you with a clip from the man, himself, about Dany:

“From my mother’s stories, I always had this kind of sense that I was like disinherited royalty. Here was this dock that my great-grandfather built - it wasn’t ours anymore. Here was this house that my mother had been born in - we didn’t own this house anymore. We didn’t own any house, we had an apartment. So it was like, ugh, I came from greatness - like Dany! And I will take back what is mine with Fire and Blood! I think on some level, that must’ve gotten to me.”—George R. R. Martin

I could be wrong about all of this, of course… but that’s my current take. 🤷

[teamoliv-archive]

I don’t have much for unpopular opinions, but I’ll try this instead: what’s your take on the whole situation regarding RWBY and their recent decisions in the latest season? (Frcstbxte)

send me controversial or unpopular opinions and I’ll tell you if I agree or disagree 🐸 ☕️

Hoo boy. People are going to unfollow me for this one guaranteed due to how may super strong opinions people have about this. This one’s getting a cut to avoid drama.

I do want to stress that I don’t want to devalue or invalidate anyone’s complaints regarding the show. Enjoyment is a highly personal thing and if you’re frustrated, upset, disappointed, or otherwise had negative feelings don’t let this convince you that you’re not allowed to feel the way you do about the volume.. My gripes are more on the mechanical and storytelling aspects of things and with the arguments used to criticize the volume. I only hope I can make my case on why the commonly complained about parts of the show don’t warrant the vitriol in my opinion. I likely won’t convince too many people, but I’d like to make my case here anyway.

I honestly believe a lot of the complaints about the latest season from a writing standpoint are short-sighted, lack scope, and/or just miss the point of what we’re looking at. From an overall storytelling perspective this was definitely the most well put together season the show has had so far and a lot of the complaints only address individual concerns that some fans had regarding things not happening the way they wanted to without a regard for the overall plot. This is why I think a lot of the complaints don’t measure up and where my actual gripes with the part lie.

1. Theme

You cannot consider yourself to have analyzed a work without first looking at its overall theme. RWBY’s structure doubles up on this as not only does the show as a whole have its overarching themes and plot, but each individual volume has their own to deal with as well. Here the theme is trust, as directly stated in the opening lyrics and it’s a common source of problems and solutions throughout the the show. 

From an overarching standpoint, we have Salem doing her darnedest to break apart any alliances that could be formed against her. I do not believe this is because she fears humanity in terms of tactical numbers. This simply isn’t that kind of show. The writers have said in interviews that they take most of their story and theme cues from the magical girl genre. You know, the same “love and friendship conquers all” magical girl genre that all those shows not named Madoka Magicka use as the basis for their protagonists. The silver eye power seems fueled by that exact sentiment and I think that’s going to be a huge factor close to the end. This is not a setting where pragmatism and strategic thinking will carry the day- keep that in mind.

2. RWBY vs. Ironwood

This is the part everyone’s been talking about and I think a lot of the hard-line side-taking in either direction is missing the point entirely. This conflict was always going to happen and both sides have fault to bear.

The two sides can be seen as having their own character arcs on a macro scale. Individual character motivations weren’t nearly as important as they were in previous volumes and it helps to see them mostly through the lens of Ruby and Ironwood. The basic core of the problem throughout the series is this, Team RWBY has decided to go along with Ironwood’s plan for lack of one themselves, but don’t trust him with the whole truth until they know how he’ll react to it. This is a man with an army and a paranoid streak after all. This, of course, is a decision that winds up instrumental in triggering Ironwood’s paranoid shitstorm later in the volume.

That said, I don’t believe the problem is Ruby’s decision making- It’s the narrative. The whole reason this comes across as weird and contrived is that we are never told the reason Ruby and co. don’t trust Ironwood with the information from the lamp. By all accounts up until this point there was no visible reason for them to do so and we’re simply never told WHY. Answering this simple question would have made the entire rest of the narrative make a lot more sense were she just given a believable reason to hold the info back, let alone any reason at all.

Now let’s bounce back to Ironwood. I’m going to just go out and say I grew tired of the “Ironwood did no wrong.” discourse pretty quickly because, again, people are missing the point. For this one, we have to look back into the theme- trust. When Ironwood has his breakdown, he not only turns his back on Ruby and her team for lying to him, but he goes right into his martial law plan also betraying the trust of the council, Robyn, and the people of Mantle who are now going to be sacrificed for the sake of salvaging his original plan. Despite Ruby and co’s actions making the situation worse, we aren’t meant to see Ironwood’s new solution as a better alternative purely on the moral cost of what he’s doing. This is what is called in screenwriting the “Moral Line” defined as a vision of right and wrong as told through the protagonists. We’re meant to sympathize with Ruby owning up to lying to Ironwood and trying to move forward despite the setbacks, not cheer for Ironwood calling them out and forcing out a more pragmatic path.

To me, I think this stems from a common sentiment shared in a lot of popular media and deconstruction of tropes that idealism is a naive and childish flaw and that proper strategic logic is what solves problems. Again, I predict that due to the genre inspirations of this story, this won’t be the case at all. Ironwood is going to fail because he turned his back on moral idealism, trust, and friendship in favor of planning and decisive action no matter the cost, not despite it. Harriet summarized the entire philosophy well during her fight with Ruby:

“It’s not excessive if it’s necessary!”

This line feels, to me, like a reflection of everything that Team RWBY is now fighting against and we should be able to understand as an audience from a moral standpoint why this is the way it is.

As a small aside, let’s cap this off with the RWBY vs. ACE-Ops fight. A lot of people called foul because the ACE-Ops lost and I just don’t understand why. The moment the fight started, I knew what the outcome was going to be purely because the story as it was set up simply couldn’t progress otherwise. Much like Mercury and Emerald in volume 5, RWBY matching and defeating the ACE-Ops shows the progression of the main characters. Them choosing to fight also shows RWBY the final stakes moving forward and symbolically shows them that the might of the entire Atlas army is now their enemy moving forward. 

With this in mind, I want to go back to Ironwood’s martial law plan and defend some aspects of his character that should be. Up until the point of Ironwood’s breakdown it was seriously and soberly treated as a last resort option with a clear understanding by Ironwood, Winter, and the ACE-Ops that they knew exactly what was it was going to imply. This does not make them evil and it’s important to understand that. However the Tin Man needs a heart and this brings us to Ironwood’s fatal flaw. The real bad decision was that the martial law plan was enacted despite already having the unity of the people of Mantle behind them. He lost far more than the stands to gain with his decision, thinking only from a tactical and strategic standpoint regardless of what he has to sacrifice to get there. Those sacrifices have already all but left him facing Salem alone. If he survives next volume, I’ll be surprised.

3. Qrow and Clover

For a few moments, I do want to discuss Clover and Qrow’s dynamic because it’s very important to Qrow’s story throughout the part. Regardless of how you choose to interpret their exchanges, the important takeaway here is that for the first time in possibly decades Qrow had a friend he can talk to as an equal and not have Ozpin’s plans or a generational gap in the way. 

Ever since we were introduced to Qrow, he’s shown himself to be a dysfunctional loner who is only just recently trying to seriously pick himself back up off his feet. I believe the fact that he was finally shown that he can actually have friends is a huge factor in this. His life has always been dominated by his feelings and doomsaying. He spends every interaction waiting for the other shoe to drop and uses his own semblance as an excuse to perpetuate that worldview.

And this is why I think Qrow’s fight with Clover makes total sense to have happened. He’s one of Oz’s main team and also has a fatal flaw.

The cowardly lion needed courage and he died for his cowardice.

The tin man needs a heart and lost all his allies in the pursuit of his goals.

The scarecrow needs a brain and his emotional decision-making cost him his friend’s life.

This is a genuine tragedy, literary-speaking in fact. Qrow’s awful situation was one of his own making and he knows it, but I can’t imagine him doing anything else. One thing that I’ve seen throughout the show about Qrow is that he’s never given up trying to stop Salem- he’s an idealist like Ruby and in my opinion has been subverting the mentor archetype beautifully. However, every time he’s made a major decision in the series, he’s done it on an emotional or practical level. No real thinking ever goes into what he does. When Clover calmly announces to Qrow what was just ordered and Robyn summarily attacks him, his first instinct is to try and stop the fight.

I’m going to break here to discuss Robyn’s actions at this moment- another common complaint. Would we really expect someone like her to have done anything different with the news that the city she’s worked so hard to work with all those years was just cast aside? This would have been seen to anyone in her position as nothing less than a double-cross given how just a few hours ago everything for the evacuation was moving apace. From a characters standpoint, I don’t get why anyone would fault Robyn for being furious��at this aside from “It’s not the smart thing to do right now.” No, it’s not, but I’m also very tired of seeing people complain about characters making non-optimal decisions. Not everyone things with perfect logic, strategy, or sense at every given moment. This is a perfectly human response to finding out your loved ones were just given a death sentence. She lashed out at Clover over lack of Ironwood face to punch.

With this in mind, Qrow’s decision to fight Clover is a bit more personal. He’s treating it more or less the same way that he treated Raven joining with Cinder a few parts ago. Qrow is clearly very much against the idea of leaving what’s left of Mantle to die and now has a lot of aggression to take out seeing how calmly and without complaint Clover takes the order. The only friend Qrow’s had in a long time chose his duty over him and he doesn’t know how to take that- so they fight. It’s safe to assume that Qrow is likely in a highly emotional state and, as we’ve established before, not thinking about what he’s doing. Robyn is passed out in the wreckage, Tyrian is left unattended, and they’re miles away from any real contact from anyone. Bluntly, he screwed up, he screwed up big time, but his character leads me to believe he wouldn’t really have done anything else.

Then we see Qrow in engage in a little something we in the literary community call “seriously fucking up.” In the heat of the moment, he decides to trust Tyrian at his word and it ends about as well as to be expected. Qrow made a mistake, one of the biggest mistakes in the entire series and one that looks plainly obvious and avoidable to the audience, but only when you consider it through the lens of someone who’s making calm and rational decisions. Yes, Qrow fucked up, I’m not defending his decision making; I’m defending the scene and why that faulty decision making was the only thing that could really happen. 

4. Winter and Penny

The biggest complaint regarding these two is Penny leaving Winter behind at the end of the part. Frankly, for this one I’ve got nothing so I’m not going to pretend I have an answer to the complaints. Much like Ruby early on, the show just outright refuses to give us the reason she left. Winter getting the maiden powers might have been part of the plan, but I don’t think Ironwood would be so inflexible as to not settle for Penny getting it instead. The only thing I can imagine that could be going through her head is that she still wants to try and save Mantle and live up to her title, trusting Winter can handle herself. However, again like with Ruby, I don’t believe that the character is to blame here, but the narrative just refusing to give us an explanation and leaving us to sit there in frustrated confusion. We might get it next part, but I don’t like that...

5. Can I Talk About Watts Now?

With that out of the way, I do have one really bizarre complaint regarding the part that no one else seems to talk talk about.

I am very disappointed with Watts. This is mostly just be griping about lost potential so bear with a small rant.

There was a lot of setup regarding Watts as a threat and when he got the codes. We’re told that given time he could control literally all of Atlas (because apparently two-factor authentication and dead man’s switches don’t exist but that’s a logical gripe for another day). My question is why this wasn’t capitalized on. I wanted a repeat of the mechanical soldiers turning on the Vale citizens. We could have had automated vehicles wreaking havoc, fights between people and robots, and all sorts of fun stuff. You can argue that Watts was distracted by Ironwood’s trap and didn’t have the time to really cut loose and I’ll accept that, but I just wish we could have seen more. Any Watts RPers out there who want some ideas, you’re free to steal this one.

[wayward-hatchling]

Another TED Talk About My Undying Support for Daenerys Targaryen

One of the only things I do enjoy about Daenerys’s arc on Game of Thrones is the conversation it has generated regarding governance, leadership, and morality. I’ve been reading and reading trying to wrap my head around this ending in a way that doesn’t feel so *ick*, and I’ve seen about a 50/50 split between camps of people who believe Dany represented war and violence in a story about how war and violence is very bad, and then people who think Dany represented revolutionary processes in a story about how central politics and nepotism will always reject sincere change. I think the conversation alone is profound enough for me to find some solace and closure in the finale.

Option 1 (War/Violence Dany) is *at least* satisfying in that it teaches us about the pointlessness of trying to bring positive change through violence. Even where we--the viewer--have had a full scope on Dany’s intent, background, and thought processes for almost her whole life, we know that there was a pointlessness to killing the entirety of King’s Landing (and potentially all of Westeros). We knew Dany could’ve just settled for taking the throne and engaging in revolution the hard way like she did in Slaver’s Bay, and we were all shocked and disappointed that she chose not to in the end--but narratively it can’t have been too surprising, because she absolutely hated the political process in Meereen.

We saw first-hand her hardship in trying the slow-burn method in Essos--a situation in which she was considered morally good because she was only trying to free slaves and create equality between classes. We saw how resistant the existing, remaining government was to change. We understood how messy making that type of change happen was for all involved (what with economic struggle, plagues, riots, coups, etc.), so there may have been a level of logic to trying her second revolution in Westeros a more ruthless way.

It was also made immediately clear to Dany that Westeros was not as interested in revolution as Slaver’s Bay was, since the poorest classes were technically free and independent and have consistently cared very little for their central government no matter what--this is a point made throughout the series and it was directly mentioned to Dany by Jorah Mormont.

"The common people pray for rain, health, and a summer that never ends. They don't care what games the high lords play."

In Essos, the poorest class was very emotionally invested in Daenerys’s success, which helped her launch her initial revolution. Add this into the fact that the smallfolk are much more invested in their nobility and local government, and that same local government consistently rejects any type of a central government to rule over them (Robert is killed by high lords plotting, Joffrey is killed by high lords plotting, Myrcella and Tommen are killed in the middle of high lords plotting, Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Margaery Tyrell and her family)....and well....Dany’s campaign would be a cocktail for failure if she tried to install herself as queen in a peaceful way. So instead, Daenerys asserting a forceful rule backed by a powerful, unstoppable weapon is definitely a way to bring the lords of Westeros to heel.  You can’t plot against a mothaf**kin’ dragon! What she fails to realize is that doing so alone and unsupported and misunderstood is what makes her tyrannical--the people she’s trying to “save” are not in on the plan, and inevitably reject her and remove her too, because they think she’s just trying to come to power for power’s sake. She’s given them no reason or evidence to think otherwise yet. The nobility would also never want her revolution if it means the destruction of the status quo, and the people don’t care what happens either way if it doesn’t affect them.

Option 2 (Revolutionary/Che Guevara Dany) is interesting because it leaves Dany in the role of a tragic, misunderstood hero even more so than Option 1. In this vein of thought, Dany offered Cersei the chance to surrender, and Cersei instead tried to display herself as a threat. She tried to use innocents and weapons-manufacturing to deter Daenerys, and Dany made an example of her--she sent a clear message to Westeros that nothing would save them if they did not fall in line. There would be no plotting against her, and there would be absolutely no mercy if they engaged in their old games. The wheel would be broken whether the existing lords liked it or not. Perhaps this is cruel and forceful, but it would prevent the high lords from using their smallfolk again (”a mercy to the future generations”)--and would help the smallfolk see the invalidity of their existing government (a government that uses its people as an ineffective meat shield against a dragon queen.) The lords may not ever love her, but they wouldn’t be using their smallfolk to maintain their own power ever again. That is what’s important. The Starks showed us that love and loyalty does not a leader make. Ned Stark, Robb Stark, and Jon Snow all inevitably failed their people and directly caused them long-term suffering via war and unrest (right before the Great War wiped out an already-weakened north, no less!) Even our “just and good” northern lords have not helped the conditions of the smallfolk at all. They are inept.

The stellar thing here is that all of these points are corroborated by the most stable and just king Westeros has had in generations--Robert Baratheon!

He knows how the incompetent lords of Westeros would react to a Targaryen invasion.

From the smallfolk wiki page:

When Cersei Lannister asks Robert why he is so worried about the prospect of a Targaryen-aligned Dothraki army, he explains that should the Dothraki cross the Narrow Sea, the nobles can retreat to their castles, but then a great many of the smallfolk would be slaughtered and those that are left will turn on their absentee king and possibly decide to join Viserys. 

He also knows how to keep them abiding by his rule:

"Honor? I've got Seven Kingdoms to rule! One king, Seven Kingdoms! Do you think honor keeps them in line? Do you think it's honor that's keeping the peace? It's fear! Fear and blood!"

Let it be fear!

I like this the most because it solidifies The Battle of King’s Landing as more-Hiroshima less-slaughterhouse--it immediately ended a long, horrifying war and prevented the escalation of worse types of warfare purely out of fear for an overwhelming weapon. This also implies that had Dany lived, she wouldn’t necessarily have to continue burning up cities, because the lords would already know what was coming for them. The central character perspectives in the finale made us believe Dany intended to burn other people, but that’s a relatively baseless assumption. (For example, she only crucified the masters when they crucified children to deter her campaign. She did not crucify masters when they revolted against her. She did execute one of them as a statement but could have slaughtered all of them to negate all opposition against her, if she were truly a mad, power-hungry queen. We also can’t even compare the two situations, since Daenerys was considerably less powerful at the time--having no Dothraki army, no extra allies or naval fleet, and no fully-grown, trained dragons yet. Her power at the end of GOT is enough to bring the lords in line on its own, without political statements and maneuvering.)

Furthermore, her disdain for the existing smallfolk of Westeros is explained when in comparison to those of Slaver’s Bay. These people really don’t give a s**t about making the world better, whereas the people of Slaver’s Bay follow Dany’s dream to the very end (and beyond).

The citizens of King’s Landing are completely indifferent towards supporting a disgusting human being like Cersei, whereas the people of Slaver’s Bay displayed passion and morality similar to what Dany is feeling. All these things together explain why Dany decides that “they don’t get to choose [what’s good.]” Because they just don’t care about good or bad for everyone else. They are the ones who let people like Joffrey, Cersei, and the Boltons take power with apathy. So only the people who do care get to decide what’s good for the world.

And FINALLY, for some additional thoughts, I like either of these points of conclusion for Dany’s arc and motivations because it helps create an idea of cosmic destiny. She was on the trajectory towards something massive and world-changing--the birth of her dragons, her visions, and epic journey full of magic and supernatural guidance all were pointing her towards some type of world change. It is the existing status quo--the darker, political side of humanity....the game--that kills her for it, despite her intentions and abilities.

(Perhaps there’s some divine intervention about to happen a la resurrection anyways!)

[unfolded73]

My Voice in Your Head (1/1)

Millian and Captain Swan, rated Teen for description of hand amputation, ~3750 words. No longer canon. This fic was written before 7x02 aired.

For the purposes of this fic, ignore the compression of events seen in 2x04 - namely, the fact that Milah was laid to rest on the same day they made for Neverland. Because I don’t like that, and I’m ignoring it. (Not a thing I do lightly. You know me, I like to work under the sometimes stupid constraints of canon. But not this time, bitches.)

Sorry, I don’t know what possessed me to write this angsty drivel.

A full-body shiver tore through him, and Killian clenched his jaw so hard that it ached as he tried to stop his teeth from chattering. His wrist felt like it was on fire, the pain seeming to radiate into a hand and fingers that were no longer there. He kept bringing the bandaged stump up to his face, convinced that somehow his hand had reappeared. His right hand gripped tightly to the neck of his flask, and he brought it to his mouth, tipping the last of the rum past his cracked lips.

“Mister Smee!” he shouted. The door to the captain’s quarters was open so that his voice would carry, and his new crewman quickly shuffled into the room.

“Yes, sir?”

“I need more rum.” He threw the flask, but it missed its mark and bounced harmlessly off the wall. Smee bent to pick it up.

“The helmsman said we should reach the next port tomorrow and gods willing, the Dark One hasn’t followed. We’ll fetch a doctor for you as soon as we can.” The man seemed to be averting his eyes from the stained bandage at the end of Killian’s arm.

“I don’t want a doctor.”

“Sir—”

“Just get me more rum,” he gritted out between his teeth. “It dulls the pain.”

“If you won’t see a doctor, then at least let Cook see you.”

“That butcher wants to chop more of my arm off. Tell him to stop sharpening his axe.”

“But sir, if it stops the infection—”

“I don’t bloody care, now get me the bloody rum!” he roared, levering himself a few inches up from his sweat-soaked sheets. Smee ran, and Killian dropped back down to his bed, exhausted by the small exertion.

“You wanted me to live, eh, Crocodile?” he croaked to the empty room. “Well, the joke’s on you; I won’t last the week.” He’d seen under the bandage, and he knew what those red lines on his skin likely meant. The infection would spread, and he would die. “A small mercy,” he whispered. There was something poetic about it, the way the creeping lines of infection were a slow version of the black tendrils of dreamshade that killed his brother Liam.

I’ve known you to be a lot of things, Killian Jones, but I’ve never known you to be such a coward.

The voice was hers, Milah’s, and it sounded incredibly real, but he wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t know it was a product of his fevered brain.

“You’re dead,” he said out loud.

And you don’t have to join me, she responded.

“I don’t have the strength to live without you, my love.” His narrow bunk seemed vast, empty without her to share it. The idea of a long life stretching out in front of him, filled with nothing but heartache, was utterly exhausting to contemplate. Mornings spent struggling to button his shirts or buckle his belt one-handed, nights returning alone to this cold bed, where he once held his lover in his arms. Where she’d made him happier than anyone ever had. He shivered violently, his teeth clacking together.

You should sleep. This fever will pass and you will heal. He imagined he could feel her cool hand on his forehead, brushing his sweat-damp hair back off of his face.

“I want you back,” he said, his voice breaking. “I want to go back and do it again. This time I won’t go near him, and we’ll sail far, far away from this part of the realm and never return. Please, let me go back and do it again.” His voice creaked as if he was crying, but no tears flowed. He was too parched.

That’s not within my power, love. He still felt her fingers gently stroking his hair. How about I sing you a song until you fall asleep?

The voice began to croon softly, a love song that Milah used to adore and would request of any bard they happened upon on their travels. He drifted, his shivering abating, and listened to the song.

How might a princess oh so fair, with lovely lips and flaxen hair, love a brigand such as I? I love her too; I cannot lie…

~*~

Milah’s voice became a constant presence in his mind.

It gave him someone to talk to as he mended, as the healing poultice that a doctor put on his stump while he was unconscious did its work. A surgeon closed over the wound, the infection abated, and Killian slowly regained his strength.

He knew she wasn’t really there talking to him, that it was just his own thoughts filtered through a mental conjuring of her voice. But imagined or not, it made him feel a tiny bit less alone. Talking to the Milah in his mind became a habit, easily transferred from the habit of talking to her when she was alive.

“This island is a trap,” he said as he stomped into his quarters. “That infernal creature is keeping the dreamshade from me.”

You knew he was a trickster and yet you insisted on coming here to Neverland, not-Milah said impassively.

“It’s the only way to kill the Dark One, you know that.”

He heard a sort-of sigh in his head, and he could see the way her shoulders would rise and fall so clearly that it startled him. You don’t have to do this. Vengeance accomplishes nothing.

He pulled his flask from his coat pocket to take a long pull from it. “I don’t know what else to do, Milah. If I can’t make him pay for what he did to you, then what kind of man am I?”

His mind had no response to that.

Killian shrugged his long, leather coat off and hung it on a peg. He disconnected his hook — he was starting to get used to it, to what he could do with it and what he couldn’t; he’d almost mastered using it to pull on the rigging, and was starting to feel a tiny bit less of an invalid on his own ship — and pulled his shirt off, unbuckling the new, stiff leather brace that he’d been outfitted with before they left Misthaven. He rubbed his stump, grimacing at the deep, tingling ache of damaged nerves.

It still pains you?

“Aye, but not terribly.” The memory of his hand being separated from his body flashed through his mind for the millionth time, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Traumatic as it was, he’d endure it every day if he could have Milah back.

I’m so sorry, Killian. It was my fault. If you’d never met me—

“Then I’d never have known love. So don’t say that. It’s not your fault.”

You can love again someday. Please don’t think that because you lost me, you’ll be alone forever.

He retrieved his flask and drank again, his silence a rebuke to the very idea that he could ever love anyone again. Love didn’t matter to him anymore. He’d figure out a way to get what he needed from this island of horrors eventually. After all, time didn’t matter in Neverland.

“I miss you,” he said after a long while.

I know, darling.

~*~

Killian’s head dropped onto his folded arms on the rough-hewn table in the empty galley. The room spun.

Look at you. You’re disgusting.

He raised his head, squinting his eyes to try to bring the room into focus. “What?”

You’ve been drunk almost continuously for weeks, Killian. You’re a disgrace.

“Milah would never say that,” he croaked. She wouldn’t, not with the way she herself had sometimes struggled with drink.

Who are you to presume what I would say? I died because of you.

Killian didn’t respond, putting his head down again and letting the room resume its nauseating revolutions.

Her voice was rarely a comfort anymore. It had become a way for his subconscious to point out all of his failings, to berate him for what a useless waste of space he was. His self-loathing had been twisted in his mind to become her loathing, even if she would never have judged him so harshly.

“Please, do go on,” he said to the table, his head too heavy to lift.

You were a worthless layabout when under your brother’s care, and as soon as he died, you lost what tiny scrap of honor he’d managed to instill in you. Now you’re not even a good pirate, trapped in this… this no-place on a fruitless quest for revenge. Allying yourself with a maniacal boy.

“I’m doing this for you!” he shouted into the empty room, the air fetid and stifling. He should go above deck, he thought, to get some relief from the heat.

I’m dead, Killian, there’s no doing anything for me anymore. There’s only you.

“Don’t I know it.” He let his head loll back on his neck. He thought he might vomit. “I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore.”

There was no response.

~*~

He stopped hearing Milah’s voice after that.

~*~

“Oh, can you pick up mac and cheese?” Emma asked, peering into the cupboard.

Killian’s pen hovered over his list. “Not that orange boxed stuff, love.”

“Yes, that ‘orange boxed stuff.’ I won’t make you eat it, it’s for me when you aren’t here to make dinner. Like when you’re at Dad’s poker game.”

He sighed and wrote ‘macaroni and cheese’ on the grocery list. “Anything else?”

“I’ve kind of been craving watermelon for some reason,” his wife said as she picked up her coffee mug and took a sip. Emma was dressed in one of her yoga outfits, sweat from her early morning workout glistening in the hollow of her throat. “Hey, I can come with you if you want.”

“You said you wanted to get started cleaning out the basement,” Killian said as he wrote ‘watermelon’ down. “And I think you did the shopping last week.”

Emma shrugged. “I know, but I thought you might want some company.”

Grinning at her, he stood up and tucked the list in the pocket of his leather jacket. “Your unwillingness to be parted from me is appreciated, darling, but I think I can manage on my own.”

“Suit yourself.” She walked over and gave him a peck on the cheek. His hand drifted without thought to her hip, and he gave her an affectionate squeeze.

“I’ll see you later.”

He walked down the sidewalk to the street and got behind the wheel of his car, putting it in gear and pulling away from the curb.

You’re truly a man of this realm now, Killian. Driving one of these automobiles.

Milah’s voice was so clear that he whipped his head toward the passenger seat, half-expecting to see her sitting there.

I’m still in your head, love. Same as ever.

He didn’t respond, trying to focus on driving. He was still a novice at this, with about as much driving experience as Henry, and the last thing he wanted was to have to telephone his wife to admit that he’d collided with a street lamp because he was distracted by his dead lover’s voice. He looked carefully in both directions and pulled out onto Main Street. Zelena was pushing Robyn in a stroller down the sidewalk, and she raised her hand in a wave. Killian waved back.

How is my grandson?

“If you’re a product of my imagination, then you should know,” he responded out loud.

Humor me.

“He’s brilliant. Nearly a man grown.”

He could see Milah smiling in his mind’s eye. I’m so happy you’re there to be a father to him, Killian. If Bae couldn’t be there, it’s wonderful that it’s you.

He felt tears press behind his eyes, and he shook his head to clear it. It was amazing that after so long, he could still imagine Milah’s voice with such perfect accuracy. Amazing and a kind of torture.

I told you you’d fall in love again. Didn’t I tell you?

“Aye, and it only took two and a half centuries,” he said with a watery laugh.

Better late than never.

Killian pulled into a parking space in front of Storybrooke’s supermarket and killed the engine. “Why now?” he whispered. “Why are you suddenly talking to me now, after all this time?”

She didn’t respond. After a moment of silence, Killian got out of the car and carried on with his day.

~*~

He turned the knob on the washing machine and pulled it up, hearing the water starting to flow inside. Opening up the dryer, he sighed at the sight of an abandoned, wrinkled pile of Emma’s clothes — left there for days, most likely. Closing the dryer door again, he set it to run for a few minutes to get the wrinkles out.

Your wife is a bit of a slob.

“So were you,” he muttered softly, the sound of his voice subsumed by the noise of the appliances in the echoey basement.

Only in comparison to your uptight naval habits. Even as a drunk, you were annoyingly tidy.

He chuckled. “I had plenty of other faults.” Noticing a laundry basket full of clean, unfolded towels, he started to fold them and stack them on top of the dryer.

Your life now certainly is different than it was in my day.

“Aye, I’m not pillaging nearly as many royal ships. Hardly any,” he said with a smirk.

Do you miss it?

“I’m no longer a villain. That’s not me anymore.”

I see that. Deputy Jones, husband and father and folder of towels.

His shoulders raised defensively. “Aye. What of it?”

He could almost see Milah’s skeptical eyebrow rise in his mind’s eye. It’s just different.

Killian continued to fold the towels, frowning. When the dryer beeped, he gradually added his wife’s jeans and cotton tops and socks and underwear to the neat stack.

“Going on a crime spree wouldn’t make me happier, you know. Abandoning my responsibilities wouldn’t make me happier.”

I never said it would.

“So why do you keep pestering me, Milah? Why are you in my head again all of a sudden?”

Something is coming. A time when you’re going to need my voice in your head.

Killian’s frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

~*~

“I need to tell you something,” he said softly as they sat together in the backyard, enjoying what would probably be one of the last warm days of the season. Emma swirled the wine in her glass as she sat in a lawn chair beside him, her bare legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

“What’s that, babe?” She was relaxed and happy, and Killian froze at the idea of ruining that. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. How could he phrase this in a way that wouldn’t hurt her? Emma picked up on his hesitance, and worry stole over her face. “Killian, what?”

He cleared his throat. “After Milah died, I used to imagine I heard her voice in my mind sometimes. For a long time, actually. It was one of the ways I processed her death, I suppose.”

“That makes sense.” She was watching him carefully.

“It stopped happening after a time. I still thought of her, of course, but it was no longer like she was with me. Until recently.” He swallowed uncomfortably. “I’ve been hearing her voice again.”

“Like, hearing it? Like she’s really speaking out loud?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s only in my mind.” He scratched behind his ear, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Emma.”

“You’re confessing to me like you’ve been having an affair,” she said.

He huffed with frustration. “Well, it’s not exactly something you want to tell your wife, that you’ve been thinking so much about…”

“Your first wife?”

Killian grimaced. “We weren’t married.”

Emma shrugged. “You might as well have been.” She tilted her head back on her lawn chair, staring up at the darkening sky. “I know what you mean though, about it being like your inner voice but coming through Milah. I used to imagine my parents that way. I mean, I didn’t know what my parents sounded like, obviously. But sometimes I would imagine my inner thoughts were being spoken to me by my Mom. Or Dad. It was comforting.”

“Aye, and that is an explanation for why her voice was in my head for a long time after she died. It doesn’t explain why it’s suddenly happening again.”

“Maybe she’s haunting you.”

“Swan, I’m serious.”

She set her wine glass down on the ground and pulled one of her legs up as she turned to face him. “So am I. Stranger things have happened in this town.”

“Yes, but you and I both know she’s not just dead. Her soul was…” He swallowed, his throat thick. “She was lost in the River of Souls.”

Emma shrugged again. “Who knows what King Arthur’s been up to down there in the Underworld. He was prophesied to heal a broken kingdom. Maybe he’s... strained her out of there somehow.” She shook her hands up and down as if she was holding something, and he couldn’t help but smile in spite of his heavy mood.

“What on earth are you doing, love?”

She looked down at her hands and laughed. “I guess I’m imagining that she’s spaghetti in a colander? I don’t know.” Her face shifted and she reached over and took his hand. “Look, whatever the reason that Milah’s on your mind lately, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me, but please don’t feel guilty about it.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Unless you’re planning to run off and leave me for ghost-Milah, in which case, feel guilty and also, that’s fucked up.”

He laughed with surprise. “You are an amazing woman, Swan.”

She snorted and leaned over to pick up her wine glass again. “I think you’re giving me a little too much credit just for not being jealous of your first love who’s been dead for hundreds of years.” Taking a sip of wine, she made a pensive face. “Why do you think it’s happening now?”

“It’s not because I’m dissatisfied with this life. I love our life.”

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t suggest that you didn’t, although I can’t help but think this is one of those protesting too much situations.”

“It’s just… I mean, it can get monotonous, all of the tasks of modern life in this realm.” Emma started to look genuinely worried, and Killian groaned. “I’m not saying this clearly. Please understand that I wouldn’t trade my life with you for anything. You make me deliriously happy. You know that, right?”

Emma nodded slowly, her eyebrow raised. “Yeah.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not occasionally… bored? Not by you, darling, just by… I don’t know. Work. Or laundry.”

Laughing, Emma leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “We’re all bored by that stuff, sweetheart. Not everything in life is exciting adventure. The boring things are part of life.” She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “Maybe we’re overdue for a vacation, though. What do you say, pirate? Should we pack up and set out on your ship for a couple of weeks? Recapture some of the swashbuckle that we’ve been missing lately?”

Killian grinned. “I love you.”

“I know,” she said with a slightly smug grin of her own.

~*~

Officer Rogers closed his apartment door and leaned against it. Another shift over, he dragged himself into his bedroom, pulling off his police uniform and changing into sweats. With a sigh, he regarded his overflowing laundry basket. Grabbing a beer from the fridge and the book he’d been reading from the nightstand, he picked up his laundry basket and made his way down to the basement, where the apartment’s dank little laundry room was located.

Finding it empty, Rogers’ shoulders dropped with relief, and he filled two washers with his clothes. He sat down in the room’s lone plastic chair, cracked open his beer, and turned to his book.

Doing laundry again, I see.

He looked up, confused by the clarity of the woman’s voice he’d heard. No, not heard. Imagined. Shaking his head, he looked back down at the page he’d started to read.

Don’t ignore me, love. You need me.

“Is someone there?” he asked out loud. In his mind, a brief image of brown, wavy hair and sparkling jewels flashed. The scent of tallow candles and perfume filled his nose.

This isn’t your life. You don’t belong here.

“Who are you?”

It’s not important who I am. You need to find your stepson. You need to get back to your wife.

He laughed, hoping no one was going to walk in and find him talking to himself. “I don’t have a wife. I certainly don’t have a stepson.”

He sensed sadness from the mysterious voice in his head. Does that sound right to you? Truly?

“I don’t…” He stopped. Did it? There was something about his life that had always seemed wrong, but he’d never understood why. The idea of a wife, it resonated somehow. Frowning, he shook himself. “I need to get out more. I’m lonely.”

There’s a girl, and she knows the truth. When you meet her, listen to what she has to say. Please, Killian.

“That’s not my name,” he whispered, his heart starting to race.

Promise me you’ll listen to the girl.

“What girl?”

Your granddaughter.

He laughed, and it sounded a wee bit insane to his ears. “Oh, now I have a granddaughter?”

Don’t laugh, she’s my great-granddaughter.

“Who are you?”

The sensation of a hand caressing his cheek felt so real for a moment that he brought his own hand up to his face, his book tumbling from his lap to land on the floor.

Just promise me, the mysterious woman’s voice said in his mind.

Officer Rogers closed his eyes. “I promise.”

[our-workis-never-over]

Antaedymn’s Nightmare

It is the middle of the night in Marlina. Natale Mortalis is asleep in his home in the capital when he is awoken by a call.

“NATALE! Please,” the hologram of Antaedymn yells, “I need your help!”

The call shot Natale out of the bed, and damaged one of his wings on landing. Barely able to see or move, he crawled his way to the other side and felt for the holophone.

“Your Majesty, please. It’s 1 in the morning. What happened at this hour?”

“I’ve just awoken from a terrible nightmare and I need your wisdom.”

Natale sighed. “Look. If I come over now, I’m not gonna have any clue what I’m saying. Write this dream of yours down for now, so we can both go back to sleep. I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon and we can discuss it then. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Antaedymn hesitated, “no problem.”

The next day, Natale lived up to his promise and met up with King Antaedymn in the castle. He is recognized as a Knight in the Marlinan Hierarchy, so getting inside was no problem. He arrived at the lobby before the King, so he admired the architecture.

“Natale, there you are,” called Antaedymn from down the hall, “good to see you again.”

“And you.” The two shook hands and began walking to a more secure location.

“You know,” Natale began, “I don’t know why you wanted my wisdom. There are people out there who are better at this than I.”

“I’m sure there are. But not only are you the one person who knows my full story, I have heard of your reputation with others. Just recently, you got someone out of a relationship-turned-power struggle, did you not?”

“I did, didn’t I?” Natale chuckled. After a brief pause, “Alright. Tell me everything.”

“Okay, here we go.” Big breath. “It takes place some years in the future. My reign is coming to its end and Zutara is ready to take the throne...”

Antaedymn is alone in his room, meditating, contemplating a conversation he had with the previous King Benedict Emeritus. Eventually, his thoughts got the best of him. He decided to take his father’s advice once and for all.

Meanwhile, back at the Brotherhood of Makuta Headquarters, Madilim is rushing frantically to Natale’s quarters, urging him to turn on the news. Apparently something horrifying has happening and he needs to hear about it. When he did turn it on, he was in awe at what he heard. It was a speech by King Antaedymn himself and he was talking about Natale.

“My friends, I come to you today with a dreadful announcement. I was traveling with a group of scholarly archeologists in No Man’s Land on a mission to map the region. While we were out there,” he said as he pulled a staff from stage left, “we stumbled upon this. This is the weapon of Princess Vivian Attarai. If you remember from some years ago, a note from her Knight, Natale Mortalis, alleged that he did everything in his power to save her from a hypothermic death but failed. As a result, he went into a self-imposed exile. This discovery puts pain to that claim. After finding this, the team had a new mission: To find the body of Vivian Attarai and confirm her death. We scoured every square inch of No Man’s Land to no avail. This leads us to the conclusion that the Princess did not die, but was murdered by her Knight. We now believe that he took her body and dumped her into enemy waters, where he knew we could not investigate.

“I’ve thought long and hard about what to do with the accused. Obviously, he should be rewarded as a traitor deserves, but killing him randomly in cold blood or combat will accomplish nothing. As Vivian’s successor, I believe it is my duty to avenge her. Natale is associated with the Brotherhood of Makuta, an organization who famously immigrated from Okoto over genetic experimentation. As a result, any Makuta who brings Natale in will be pardoned of any past crimes. To everyone else, Natale Mortalis is a traitor,” the last words came out like a dissonant harmony, not unlike playing a tritone, “bring him to me.”

Madilim turned to look back at Natale to see his reaction. His eyes glowed a brilliant blue, signaling intense fury. And yet, he also had a look in his eyes. Natale knew exactly what he was going to do.

Later that day, King Antaedymn was talking with other high-ranking officials in the main lobby when the large castle doors slammed open behind them.

“King Antaedymn!” The person shouted. It was Natale.

Antaedymn turned around to see the traitor. He was glad that Natale was here and how it happened so easily. With this, he inquired who brought him in.

“I came alone,” Natale replied.

“What?” Antaedymn stuttered, “What’s with you? Why would you give up just like that?!”

“Because I remember a certain detail about your message to the country. See,” said Natale, as he started walking to Antaedymn, “if I remember correctly, you told everyone that ‘any Makuta who brings me in will be pardoned for any past crimes.’ You’ve overlooked one thing, Your Majesty,” he said, stopping, “I am a Makuta.”

“Guards! Take him away!” Antaedymn was furious by this point, but Natale wasn’t done yet.

“Why? Are you afraid to live up to your promise? Or can you live up to your promise at all because you can’t pardon me for a crime I didn’t commit. Or,” looking Antaedymn dead in the eyes, “were you lying about your deal, just like you’ve lied about everything else.”

Antaedymn spoke no words, but his eyes said it all. Meanwhile, his guards watched in confusion, not sure who to listen to.

“You’ve lied about the fate of Zutara’s mother. You’ve lied about the reason you’ve closed off No Man’s Land. You’ve lied about how you’ve taken the throne to begin with. You’ve lied about who you are. You’ve lied to your country, your family, to me and worst of all to yourself. Am I wrong,” Natale paused as he chose his next word carefully, “Vivian?”

The name came out like another tritone. That was the name of Antaedymn’s former self. Once upon a time, he was Princess Vivian Attarai. He remembered the day that she and Natale’s cart got damaged in No Man’s Land. He remembered telling Natale that she hated being a woman and would gladly transition openly if she wasn’t worried about her country’s reaction. Together, they had devised a scheme that would allow Vivian to transition out of view from the public eye and Natale going into a self-imposed exile because he believed a patriotic life just wasn’t for him. What was this scheme? To fake Vivian’s death, from a certain point of view. Vivian is no more, now was the life of John Antaedymn. Hearing his dead name again prompted him to act swiftly.

In the blink of an eye, he shot out of his chair, drew his blades and swung both arms outward. The next thing anyone saw was a large X-shaped gash in his chest--not large enough to be lethal, but large enough for blood to start dripping out fast. After being stunned for a moment, Natale again peered into Antaedymn’s eyes. He knew there was no going back now. He unhooked his cape and let it fall to the ground. His wings opened up and spread out parallel to his shoulders. Lastly, he activated his blue-bladed sabercane. With that, the fight began.

The duel lasted for many minutes. It started off as dignified choreography in the lobby, but soon enough one of them began using their environment to their advantage. Antaedymn eventually realized that Natale’s wings put him at a massive disadvantage; while Antaedymn would have to worry about all the crap on the floor and hanging from the walls, such things were of almost no concern for Natale, for he could just fly/leap out of the way. With this realization, the King made a break for the nearest window and jumped out of it.

He was met with hordes of citizens, his people, looking on. Many had a face of disgust, others merely confusion. Natale lunged down at the King next, his eyes glowing a fierce sapphire shade. He rolled out of the way just in time to avoid his laser blade and was able to get back up. Both of them were panting, coughing, and struggling to move their legs by this point. In this brief moment of ceasefire, Natale wiped his hands on his sides to get rid of any sweat buildup that might cause him to drop his weapon. Meanwhile, Antaedymn looked around. The look of the people’s faces has changed. Gone was the initial shock of seeing him bruised and beaten; in its place was one of sadness, disappointment and bewilderedness  What would prompt the King to betray his best ally? They knew the answer to that. What would prompt his best ally to betray him? He falsely hoped that they would not find out.

Eventually, Natale forced Antaedymn to the ground again. No longer fearing his fate, and to the screams of the people, he pointed his blade at Antaedymn’s neck.

“Tell them the truth!”

“There is nothing to tell that they need to know!” This response sparked murmuring among them.

“If you don’t, I will. And you’re not going to like the version I tell.”

With that, Antaedymn relented and confessed his entire life story, a tale only Natale and the late Benedict Emeritus knew previously. The deception sparked outrage among the crowd, demanding for the King’s arrest. As he was taken away, some guards approached Natale.

“Sir,” one nervously began, “what are we going to do about his daughter? Is his bloodline invalid?”

“Well,” Natale responded, after thinking long and hard, “Zutara is a victim of chance. She should not be punished for Antaedymn’s lies. Let her take the throne. I will deal with whatever punishment comes my way later.”

“Yes sir.”

With that, the guard returned to his truck to take Antaedymn in for question. Natale shakily walked back to the Brotherhood of Makuta Headquarters, his fate uncertain.

Back in the real world, Natale had to take a step back.

“That was,” he stuttered, “quite the interesting dream.”

Antaedymn was still very shaky in his voice. Nevertheless, he tried asking again, “But none of that will happen, right?”

“It shouldn’t. In your dream, you met your destiny on the road you took to avoid it. You were the architect of your own destruction.”

“And you,” the next words were difficult to decipher; the fear has really gotten to him, “your character in it. Was that accurate?”

Natale thought carefully before answering.

“If I were to be dragged into a lose-lose situation such as this, I believe I would do whatever it took if it meant self-preservation. I don’t know if I would use your dead name, though,” as he was finishing, he ignored Antaedymn’s incredibly loud sigh of relief, “that would be going too far, even for me.”

“So what should I do?”

“You’ve done well so far. Benedict passed away a few years ago, so now I’m the only person who knows your full story. I would never betray you like that. You’re too awesome for that.”

“Thank you, Natale.” At that, the two embraced in a hug. While Natale’s face didn’t change much throughout his meeting that day, Antaedymn’s face looked like a child’s on Christmas. With their business done, they said their goodbyes and went on their way.

That night, Antaedymn couldn’t find himself sleeping at all. On most nights he could blame it on his wife’s snoring, but not this time. He was thinking about his father again. He walked to the Hall of Kings and found his father’s picture. He circled around it as he pondered the conversation that haunted his dream.

“Would Benedict really have supported me for who I am? Or would he have rewritten history for the sake of preserving sanctity in the bloodline?”

Antaedymn marched back and forth around the painting muttering himself before coming to a cold stop. He believed he had his answer. With this, he quickly spun around and slashed. One half of the portrait stayed on the nail, spinning furiously. The other half flew to the floor and shattered. After a moment, Antaedymn returned to bed and fell soundly asleep.