#they should not have taken that long to respond and black armys were justified in calling them out

[5eokjin]

twt armys shut the fuck up challenge

[fandomficsnstuff]

Little Dragon - Part 8

Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.

High Valyrian is in cursive

You were listening intently to the conversations going on in the war room, so many faces that you wanted to remember, their names, their houses, their history, but for now you settled on staying silent and listening, “are you really sure we can discuss this around her?” your head snapped towards the accented voice, seeing a beautiful woman with olive skin, black hair and dark brown eyes, and you wanted to look to your mother for help, but decided that you couldn’t use her as a pillar forever “(Y/N) Targaryen, Lady…?” you couldn’t help your tone, you were not a little girl wearing a collar around her neck anymore, jumping at the slightest of sounds. You were still timid and childish with Daenerys and Missandei, because you knew you could afford it, but you didn’t know these people, they were allies of your mother, but you didn’t know them.

“Ellaria” she sounded tense as she responded, she probably hadn't known you were the daughter of Daenerys, but you merely nodded “well, Lady Ellaria, I would prefer that if you are done questioning who your Queen trusts, perhaps we could get back to planning the war we are currently in” you heard a short laugh, your eyes glancing to none other than Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns, and the only living Tyrell left. “Are you sure you did not birthe her? She has the spirit of a dragon that one” Daenerys did everything to not smirk proudly at Olenna’s comment, and even Ellaria looked a bit surprised at your response “now… I agree that a foreign army would send the wrong signal, but an army from Westeros, it would show that we are not here to raid and pillage, the Dothraki will not do so unless their Khaleesi orders and my mother never will, the Unsullied are obedient and loyal, so they won’t either, but we need Westeros with us, and showing that their own houses are turning on Cercei is a good way to win quickly and without a lot of losses, on either side”, you studied the map as you spoke, unaware of the impressed looks everyone gave you, Tyrion being the first to speak up “well… I agree” you glanced at him and sent him a quick smile, one of the few smiles you had offered him, but you didn’t really know him either, so it was justified that you didn’t treat him, or Varys, as warmly as the rest of your mother’s allies.

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You stood impatiently besides Daenerys in the throne room, and Daenerys couldn’t help the amused glance she shared with Missandei “alright go, but change before you do!” you barely even heard the rest of her sentence, you were already off, heading towards your room. In record breaking time you changed from your formal dress to a special outfit you had made for you. You had been riding Rhaegal much more frequently, and today were the day of the arrival of Jon Snow, King in the North, and you had promised to stay for his arrival and then ride Rhaegal after, but you couldn’t help fidgeting, and were more than happy that Daenerys excused you. You put on your leather trousers, securing them with a harness that was connected to them, ensuring that they didn’t fall down, not even an inch, you had a tunic under your harness, pulling a shortened cloak over your shoulders and tying it to the harness, making sure the knots were tight, the cloak was warm but light, it reached just below your hips, but kept you warm. Next you threw on a pair of gloves made from cloth on the inside and leather on the outside, and then your boots, they were high, they almost reached your knees, and you pulled the laces tight, so they wouldn’t fall off during the flight.

Your room had an open balcony, just like Daenerys’, and you approached the edge, grinning widely as you waited. You couldn’t help the excited giggle you let out as you heard him roar as he came closer, and in a leap of faith you jumped off of the balcony, you let out a little huff as you landed on scales, and a few moments later you got a good grip, holding onto Rhaegal as you flew away from the castle, going high up and then soaring, admiring the landscape below, seeing a ship you presumed belonged to Jon Snow, you flew towards Drogon and Viseryon who were flying on the other side of the island. You could still just about watch Tyrion greet Jon Snow, and saw them making their way towards the entrance.

A wicked smile grazed your lips as you got an idea, and somehow Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal knew what your plan was, Rhaegal let out an ear shattering roar as you held on tightly, flying towards Tyrion and the two men he were leading up the long stone staircase. You leaned forward as you flew closer to the ground, Rhaegal barely managing to not hit the small people below, something that made you laugh loudly and you couldn’t help but cheer, Tyrion seeing you on Rhaegal as you waved at him, and you could see him shake his head, but you also knew of the smile he tried to hide, he was probably telling Jon that he himself wasn’t used to the presence of the dragons.

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You heaved heavily as you ran into the throne room, your hair wild from the wind, your chest rising dramatically as you tried to catch your breath, standing besides Daenerys who did her very best to not smirk at you proudly, instead she tried to look as regal as ever, waiting patiently for this, Jon Snow, to arrive.

Rhaegal had barely managed to throw you off on the open balcony you jumped out of earlier, you almost bumped into a few tables on your way to the throne room, a fact that made you smile amused before trying to hide it. “Well, at least you made it back in time” her words could be mistaken as scolding, but you knew her better, and you couldn’t help the breathless giggle you let out “think I scared an inch or so off of Lord Tyrion” Daenerys let out a short, although quiet, laugh at your comment, shooting you a very poor attempt of a scolding gaze before looking back towards the large doors at the end of the throne room, making you straighten your back, your smile faltering and your hands placed in front of yourself, as you always did when you had attended any court meeting.

You watched the two strangers as Missandei went down the list of titles that your Queen had acquired along the way, something you took great pride in, she was your mother after all.

“And this is (Y/N) Targaryen, daughter of Queen Daenerys Stormborn, princess of the Seven Kingdoms and heir to the throne” Missandei finally ended, and the two men looked at you confused, giving you the impression that they didn’t know that much about your mother, and therefore you, they had probably only heard rumours, lies or other falsehoods, and therefore didn’t know of your existence, which was probably not a bad thing. You had heard of how the usurper King Robert Baratheon had sent assassins to kill Daenerys, even while she was pregnant, so who says they wouldn’t have been sent after you, back then nothing more than a little girl, had the usurper's children heard of your existence, and Daenerys’ love for you. You were snapped out of your day dream as Daenerys got up, approaching Jon Snow and his adviser, and first now you tuned in on their conversation, a small frown resting on your brows, hearing her words, but you couldn’t deny the pride it gave you, despite hearing all that she had suffered, “I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it. We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now, of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me, I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare. I've been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing, through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any god, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries, until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will, and so will my daughter.” Her gaze turned to you for a brief moment and you smiled proudly, one she proudly returned before turning back to Jon Snow.

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You frowned as you watched your mother study the map in silence, you wanted to say something, you really did, but what could you say? The Iron Fleet was gone, Yara and Ellaria had been taken prisoner and Jon Snow refused to bend the knee and instead only wants to hack away at some mysterious stone somewhere in a cave on the island, claiming that an army of undead people and giants are the true enemy.

You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, you being the only one to actually make a sound in the entire map room “maybe…” you dared a glance at your mother, not that you feared her, but more that you knew of the thin ice you were balancing on “maybe you should just let him mine this… ‘dragonglass’... it means nothing to you after all” Daenerys looked to you slowly, and for a second everyone in the room were praying to whoever and whatever that you hadn’t crossed a line, but when you received no response, you continued, “you didn’t know it was there, no one did… there are two options here, either he’s right, in which it doesn’t hurt you or your army or your dragons to comply, or he’s mad, and it won’t hurt you, your army or your dragons either. There’s no outcome here where anything bad is an outcome, you complying will also show that yes, you are to be feared, but you are also complying and reasonable, and allowing one man, one person to mine something of no value is a sign that you are with the people of Westeros” there was another second of silence, but eventually Daenerys smiled at you, walked over to you and placed a gentle hand on your cheek, looking at you with a proud look in her eyes before walking off.

“Where is she going?” Tyrion looked at you baffled and confused, but you simply shrugged “to allow Jon Snow to mine the Dragonglass” you leaned over the map table, studying the different areas, looking at the different highlighted places, such as King’s Landing, Winterfell, all the places you’ve only ever read about, you couldn't wait to see them for real.

[maxwell-grant]

Your Top Five Pulp Heroes that you wish were better known? By Pulp Hero fans, I mean. Since pretty much all of them except Conan and Tarzan are fairly unknown.

It’s actually quite hard for me to narrow it down to just five, because I’m having to choose between characters that are my favorites that I wish were more well-known and appreciated (which is all of them), and characters that aren’t quite my favorites but I very much think should have achieved great popularity for a myriad of reasons. So instead I’m going to pick some of each. These are not necessarily ranked by their importance or my personal taste, just 5 characters I felt like highlighting in particular. 

Honorable mentions goes to characters I already talked about prior and don’t want to repeat myself on. These aren’t “lesser” picks, just ones that I already talked about: Imaro (who in particular definitely feels like he could, and should be, a pop culture superstar if he was only more well-known), Kapitan Mors (who’s got a lot in common with one of my favorite fictional characters, Captain Nemo, but also has a lot of interesting things going on for him as his own character). Sar Dubnotal (a character that appeals a lot to me and I think should be included much more often in pulp hero team-ups). The Golden Amazon (again, definitely a character that feels like it’s just begging to have a pop culture breakout, even comic books rarely if ever have female supervillains this ruthless and over-the-top), The Mexican Fantomas (who absolutely deserves a better name than what I’m calling him here, because he’s incredibly awesome and leagues ahead of just being a knock-off). And of course my homeboy, The Grey Claw, whom I would consider Number One of the list if it wasn’t for the fact that his obscurity has left him untouched by copyright and I got plans of my own for the character that wouldn’t be possible if he was more well-known, so I guess I’m ultimately glad he’s obscure (even if I’m still bothered by how little he’s known). 

Allright let’s go:

Number 5: Sheridan Doome

Sheridan Doome appeared in fifty-four stories and three novels from 1935 to 1943. As chief detective for U.S. Naval Intelligence, Lieutenant Commander Sheridan Doome’s job was a grim one. Whenever an extraordinary mystery or crime occurred in the fleet, on a naval base, or anywhere the navy worked to protect American interests, Doome was immediately dispatched to investigate it. Fear and dread would always precede Doome’s arrival in his special black airplane. For, in an explosion during WWI, he had been monstrously disfigured. 

He was six feet two inches tall; had a chalk-white face and head. It appeared as though it had once been seared or burned. For eyes, he had only black blotches; glittering optics, that looked like small chunks of coal. His nose was long, the end of it squared off rudely. He had no lips, just a slit that was his mouth. His neck was long, as white and as bony as his face…. Sheridan Doome looked more like a robot than a human being. He was tall and ghastly; his uniform fitted him in a loose manner. Long arms hung at his sides; his face was a perfect blank. He had no control of his facial muscles; consequently, his countenance was always without expression, chalky and bony.

But behind the ugliness was a brilliant mind. Sheridan Doome always got his man. Before Sheridan Doome became a staple in the pages of The Shadow magazine, two Doome hardcover mysteries were written in the mid-1930’s by acclaimed hard-boiled author Steve Fisher (I Wake Up Screaming) and edited by his wife Edythe Seims (Dime Detective, G-8 and His Battle Aces). Age of Aces now brings you both books in one huge double novel, presented in a retro “flip book” style. This book is currently Out of Print.

I sadly don’t have any more information on the character other than this. The book is unavailable for me to acquire in any capacity, and the text above is taken from the Age of Aces website as well as Jess Nevins’s personal profile for the character. I’m not even sure if any of those 54 stories even exist anymore, since although he was published as a backup in Shadow Magazine, there doesn’t seem to be reprints of them anywhere, at least as far as I can find, and the original Shadow magazines have largely turned to dust by now. 

A character who combines aspects of The Phantom of the Opera and The Shadow, whose adventures are set in a backdrop that can easily lead to ocean adventures? That’s like, what, three of my favorite things in the world combined. I really, really wish I could at least read the stories this character stars in, but as is, this description is all I can provide. Again, time really has been cruel to the pulp heroes. 

Number 4: Harlan Dyce

This is another character I’ve only been able to learn about through Jess Nevins’s archives and have not been able to attain any further information on, which is sadly the case with a lot of pulp heroes that nowadays only seem to exist as footnotes in his Encyclopedia or records in libraries. I don’t post more about these characters because I really would just be copying the stuff he wrote without much to justify me quoting him verbatim, and I hate the idea of doing that.

I especially hate that in Harlan Dyce’s case though. Here’s his description

“Dyce had brains, taste, money, ambition, and a total lack of physical or spiritual fear. But—

“Dyce was thirty-three inches tall and weighed sixty pounds.

“That was all the world could ever hold against him. That was what had made the world, most of it, in all the countries of the world, stare at Harlan Dyce, billed in the big show as “General Midge.””

Harlan Dyce is a misanthropic and venomous private detective. He has an “amazingly handsome face,” and the aforementioned brains. But all anyone sees is his stature, and he hates that and turns his cold eyes and acid tongue on them. 

The only person Dyce likes and gets along with (besides his dwarf wife, a former client) is his assistant, Nick Melchem, a six-foot tall former p.i.’s assistant with bleak eyes and a strong body. Melchem ignores Dyce’s stature and treats Dyce normally, which Dyce responds warmly to.

Dwarfs may be the single most maligned group of people depicted in pulp magazines, even more so than the Japanese in the war years or the Chinese during the peak of the Yellow Peril’s popularity. Evil dwarfs, murderous dwarfs, sexually depraved dwarfs, they are all loathsome, ugly cliches that are, sadly, the only instances you see of dwarf characters being represented at all, with the only ones who are awarded any measure of sympathy are doomed henchmen or tragic villains.  Even outside of the pulps, the only other examples of heroic, protagonist dwarfs I can think off the top of my head are Puck from Marvel Comics and Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones.

I’m not gonna say Harlan Dyce is great representation because I’m not a little person and can never make that kind of claim for a group I’m not a part of, but Harlan Dyce may be the first time I’ve ever seen a dwarf character in pulp fiction who was not a villain or a murderous goon or a victim, but an actual person and a heroic protagonist, and that definitely counts for something. I’m not sure how popular this character was or could be if someone picked up the concept and ran with it (and I’m pretty sure he’s public domain), but I definitely think this is a character that should exist and should be popular. 

Hell, this character has Peter Dinklage written all over it, give it to him. Maybe then he will get to play a smart, fearless, cynical, misanthropic but good-natured and heroic character in something where he actually gets to keep these traits until the show ends.

Number 3: Audaz, O Demolidor

Audaz is a Brazilian character who was created and published by Gazetinha, the same publishers of Grey Claw as well as properties exported from elsewhere like Superman and Popeye, and much like The Grey Claw, he is also completely unknown even here. I’ll get to Audaz more in-depth sometime but here I’m going to provide a quick summary: 

Audaz, The Demolisher is a gigantic crime-fighting robot controlled and piloted by the brilliant scientist Dr. Blum, his close friend Gregor and the child prodigy Jacques Ennes, who pilot the giant robot from a massive laboratory inside it's head rather than a cockpit. He takes on a variety of ordinary human criminals, mad scientists, supervillains and invading armies, towering over skyscrapers and grappling with jets.

Audaz was created in 1939 by illustrator Messias de Melo, a year before Quality Comics's Bozo the Iron Man and 5 years before Ryuichi Yokoyama's Kagaku Senshi, and decades before the debut of Mazinger Z. Although he is not the first giant robot of science fiction, he is the first heroic giant robot piloted by human pilots, and thus the first true example of "mecha" fiction.

Number 2: Emilia the Ragdoll

This is another Brazilian character, although nowhere near as obscure as Audaz as even a cursory Google search can show. Although Brazil did not have a “pulp era” in the same way the US had, we’ve long gotten past the point of sticking to it as a definitive rule, and I’m including Emilia as a pulp hero because she’s a 1920s fantasy literature character who was created under a publishing company that released pulp stories, because she doesn’t quite belong in the mold of fantasy literature characters she takes after, and because I like her and if I was putting a bunch of pulp heroes together in the same story, I would definitely include Emilia in it. It’s not like she really has anywhere else to go, now that she’s public domain and she’s outlasted her franchise.

As you can tell by the above image, Emilia’s had a lot of variations over the years and that’s because the work she was created for, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo (Yellow Woodpecker Ranch/Farm), has become a major bedrock of Brazilian fantasy literature, one of the only works created here that you can find substantial information about in English if you go looking for it. Here’s some descriptions of Emilia’s character:

Emília is a rag doll described as "clumsy" or "ugly", resembling a "witch" that was handmade by Aunt Nastácia, the ranch's cook, for the little girl Lúcia, out of an old skirt. After Lucia takes her on an adventure and the doll is given a dose of magic pills, Emília suddenly started talking, and would never stop henceforth.

Emilia has a rough, antagonistic personality, and an independent, free-spirited and anarchist behaviour. She is rogue, rebellious, stubborn, rough and intensely determined at anything she sets her mind on, eager to take off on just about any adventure. She is often immature and behaves like a curious and arrogant child, always wanting to be the center of attention.

She is extremely opinionated even when she constantly and confidently mispronounces words and expressions. Her attitude often gets her into trouble, and she very often has to fight against the villains who attack her home on the Yellow Woodpecker Farm and mistreat her friends.

In the stories, Emilia often takes the role of a heroine who travels through different realms and dimensions, as the books include not only figures from Brazilian and worldwide folklore, but also several characters both real and fictional, such as Hercules, King Arthur, Don Quixote, Thumbelina, Da Vinci, Shirley Temple, Captain Hook, Santos Dumont and Baron von Munchausen.

She's fought scorpions and martians and nymph hordes, her arch-enemy is an alligator witch, she rescued an angel from the Milky Way and tried to teach it how to become a human, and once shrunk the entire population of Earth to try and talk the president of the United States into ending war forever.

To little surprise, she has become the most popular character and the series’s mascot.

It’s a little strange to consider Emilia underrated considering she is one of the most famous original characters of Brazilian literature, but hardly anyone outside of Brazil even knows who she is, and regardless of the quality of the original stories (and Monteiro Lobato’s views on race that tar much of his reputation), Emilia definitely feels to me like a character that should be a lot more popular globally. 

She is the only character from Yellow Woodpecker Ranch that has transcended the original stories, since she was always the most popular character and there’s been a couple of stories written about her that usually separate her from the ranch and just set her out on the world by herself. The latest story about this character has been a series called The Return of Emilia, that’s about her stepping out of the books in 2050 and discovering a Brazil that’s been ruined by social and ecological devastation, and traveling back in time via a flying scooter in order to try and prevent this calamity. 

Now that she’s public domain, I definitely think there’s some great stories that can be told with the character that just about anyone could get to, and I definitely think she’s a character that deserves more appreciation. Anything goes in stories starring her and it’s that kind of free-for-all freedom that I think can benefit future takes on pulp heroes. I would be very happy to place Emilia among them.

Oh yeah, and there was one time she kicked Popeye's ass by tricking him with a can of mouldy cabbage instead of spinach, making him sick and then beating him, which possibly puts her as one of the all-time badasses of fiction, except she would be pissed at not being number one and likely embark on a quest to beat everyone else just to prove she could, because that’s how Emilia rolls.

Number 1: Luna Bartendale, from The Undying Monster (1922)

Not necessarily my favorite of the bunch, but one who sort of epitomizes what you asked, a character who is both incredibly obscure and incredibly underrated in every sense. Despite the book being somewhat known, mainly thanks to the movie, the character is so obscure that I don’t even have an illustration of her to display here, not even fan art, just one of the book’s covers that I think best conveys it. Luckily, the book is also available freely online, so you can all go check it out here. The movie adaptation does not feature the character of Luna Bartendale which makes it pointless to talk about.

To not spoil it too much, The Undying Monster is a very fascinating book, ahead of it’s time in quite a few ways. You expect it to just be a detective story centered around a werewolf cursed, except the subtitle of the book is “The Fifth Dimension” and then it goes to talk about dimensions of thought and post-WWI trauma and love and hypnotic regression that travels through time and ancient runes and Norse mythology. It’s not exactly an easy book to get through in one setting, but I’d recommend it much the same if only because it’s got supersensitive psychic sleuth Luna Bartendale, literature’s first female occult detective, and she’s an incredible character who absolutely feels like she should have become a literary icon. 

She lives in London but is world-renowned for her many good deeds. She is a small, pretty woman, with curly blonde hair, dark eyebrows and a high-bridged nose, and a slight build. She has a voice described as a light soprano that "does not make much noise but carries a long way". 

Petite, bedimpled and golden curled, Luna is completely in charge of events, dominating every scene that she appears in with her welcoming disposition and cleverness. 

Bartendale has various psychic powers, including mind reading. She is well-versed in psychic and occult lore, is a “supersensitive” psychic, and has a “Sixth Sense” which allows her to trace things and people through both the Fourth and the Fifth Dimension. (The Fifth Dimension is “the Dimension that surrounds and pervades the Fourth–known as the Supernatural”).

Her extensive knowledge of occult rites and practices puts John Silence, Carnacki and Miles Pennoyer to shame, and she beats them all with her "super-sensitive" gift of being able to psychically connect with troubled souls and hypnotize them.

She uses a divining rod for various tasks, including psychic detection and tracking, and distinguishing between benevolent and malevolent forces. She has various (undefined) powerful psychic defenses, can carry on seances, and can even cure a person of “wehrwolfism.” And she can always rely on her massive, intelligent dog Roska for help.

Luna sadly doesn’t show up in the book as often as I’d hoped, but everything about this character is so delightful. In a lot od ways she hardly feels like a pulp hero, at least the ones I usually talk about. She feels like a lost protagonist from an incredibly successful kid’s adventure series where a kind and eccentric detective witch and her giant dog go around solving occult mysteries and encountering all sorts of weird supernatural beings while counseling and helping people, like Ms Frizzle meets Hilda. Like this character is just waiting for Cartoon Saloon to make a film about her.

Its not so much “this character should/could be popular but it’s clear why that didn’t pan out”, it’s more me being confused as “why the hell isn’t she super popular? This character should have had a franchise ages ago, holy shit put her in everything””

[ask-marcus-cally-and-ari]

Only Human

Chapter 9: Breather

As the van made its way through the forest, Marcus asked, “So what’s your deal?” 

“Doctor kidnapped me and a Sniper, cut us up, then put my head on the Snipers body,” Spyper shrugged. “I’ve been stuck as a hybrid ever since.”

Marcus winced. “Oh… wow. Uh. That sucks. What happened to the other head and body?” 

“The Medic made another hybrid. Sny. Me and him are good friends, although it does get kinda weird at times since...Y’know, he has my body. And we both have this weird tick where we’ll switch into the other's voice for a moment,” Spyper replied, gesturing to his neck. 

“Oh. What does that even feel like?” 

“Uh… It's hard to explain. Have you ever had sleep paralysis? Where you know you’re awake and you’re aware of what's going on, but you can’t do anything about it?” 

Ari nodded. “I know what that is.” 

“It’s kinda like that. My brain gets paralyzed for a moment and I can’t do anything when that tick starts going, even though I know it's happening.” 

Marcus winced. “That must suck.” Briefly, the teen looked up at the van ceiling, hand on his gun. 

“You okay, kid?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Bad experience with things above me.” Marcus relaxed upon seeing nothing on the ceiling. “You understand, right?” 

“Yeah, I understand. I once fought Brutal myself.”

“Oh, wow!” Ari beamed. “Did you win?” 

“I did. Cut his head right off,” Spyper chuckled, punctuating his words by sharply jerking his hand across his throat. 

Ari whimpered, suddenly very pale- and far less excited. 

“Hey, he was terrorizing a team, and I just happened to drop by,” Spyper shrugged. 

Marcus leaned over. “Real talk, man,” he whispered, “Please try not to go into detail with stuff like that. Ari… isn’t that kind of person.” 

“Oh, sorry. It’s not often I meet people who are faint of heart. Y’know, I hang around Freaks all day. ‘Faint of heart’ isn’t exactly common with us.” 

"That's obvious," Cally responded dryly. 

“Jester and Pure fit the bill, though,” Spyper added, glancing back at Ari and Cally. “Well, not so much Pure.” 

"Who?"

“Christian Pure Spy. He’s a priest that lives nearby.” 

“Who’s he running with as far as other Freaks?” Marcus asked. 

“He’s friends with me Intelligent, and looks after Chaos Kin and Jester. He’s also friends with Polite Spy...But uh...That’s about as far as his good connections go,” Spyper said awkwardly. 

“So he’s a good guy?” Ari asked. 

“By himself? Yes. But he has some… questionable friends outside of the ones I listed.” 

“Define questionable, please,” Cally requested. 

“He’s friends with Christian Brutal Sniper and Gentlespy,” Intelligent answered, looking up from the chessboard.

Marcus twitched, then sighed. “Yeah, let’s stay our @sses away from there.” 

“Yeah, good idea,” Ari winced. 

“What about that Jester person you keep mentioning?” Cally asked.

“Count Jester is their full name. They’re on the more lighthearted side of Freaks,” Spyper replied, clearing his throat. 

“Friends?” 

“Me, Intelligent, Chaos, Pure, Pancakes...A whole bunch of people, actually.”

“Who’s Chaos?” Ari asked. “Good guy?” 

“Chaos Kin? Yeah, she’s a good guy. A bit aggressive, but that’s really only towards people she doesn’t like.” 

“Can we trust her?” 

“Against Freaks like Brutal? Yeah, you can trust her,” Intelligent said. “She’s helped several good Freaks since becoming a Freak herself. She’s helped Medizard, Dr. Dum and Mr. Dan, SomeCleanTrash, Weaselcake, Bellatrix…” Intelligent listed off a handful of different Freaks. “If you asked her, she’d probably help you.” 

“How many Freaks can we trust?” Cally asked. “And is there a database for you guys?” 

“There is, but HECU are the ones who maintain it, and are the only people who can access it,” Spyper replied. 

Cally raised an eyebrow and pulled out her laptop. “Let’s fix that, shall we?” 

“Like you can get through HECU’s firewalls-” 

“I just did. Marcus, Ari. Check this out.” 

Marcus snickered at the look on Spyper’s face. “Impressed?” 

“How did you get past their firewalls!?” Spyper spluttered. 

“With my laptop. Alright, let’s see here...” 

“All you have is a laptop, and aren’t you 17? How on Earth did you get past the firewalls of such a heavily guarded agency?” Intelligent implored, taken aback. 

“The only reason whoever sent Christian Brutal Sniper and Gentlespy found me is because I got past the firewalls guarding the plan to cause basically the end of the world as we know it.” 

“How you got these skills, I will never understand.” 

“My parents used to refuse to feed me if I forgot to do something or didn’t do a good enough job. I had to make money somehow. Ethical hacking was a good way to do it.” 

Ari whined upon hearing this. “They what?” 

Intelligent and Spyper gave each other pale and mortified looks. 

“What?” Cally asked, tilting her head. 

“That is so beyond not ok,” Spyper grimaced. 

“Got me the hacking skills I’m probably gonna need.” 

“Jester has their work cut out with you,” Spyper sighed turning back to the road. 

Cally shrugged and went back to the laptop. 

** 

Rudra was bowed over her desk, hunched over her computer and rigorously scrubbing through every piece of footage of the three teens she could get her hands on. First was the viral video of them fleeing Brutal, then there was a series of videos from the motel they had stayed at, and finally, a very short clip of them fleeing that very motel at night. It wasn’t much, but visuals on the teens could at least help her agents pinpoint the exact people they were looking for. And this combined with the knowledge they already had would make the process of searching for and identifying these three when found all the easier. 

A knock at her door, along with a soft white glow, interrupted her process. 

Rudra sighed heavily and sat back in her chair. “I knew you’d show up eventually.” 

“I was given a tip that the Heart, the Brain, and the Body had awakened, so I came to talk to you.” A black woman in a white robe stepped in. “What can you tell me about them?” 

“All three of them are teenagers. Barely out of high school,” Rudra replied dryly.

The woman, who had been sipping a drink, choked on it. “What?!” 

“I was just as shocked as you are. Why do you think my agents are running around like mad trying to find them?” 

“This is preposterous! They were supposed to select ideal hosts!” 

“Well, I guess they took that a bit too literally. From what I can tell, instead of picking people who already possess the qualities the powers are best suited to, the powers decided to build ideal hosts from the ground up by literally joining with them in the womb,” Rudra sighed, rubbing her temples. “I mean, why else would the powers decide to join with literal children?” 

The woman put her head in her hands. “This is not how it was supposed to go!” 

“Was there no way to ensure the powers would go to people who already possessed the qualities they needed, Mercy?” Rudra implored. “Was there no way to ensure they wouldn’t go such an extreme route?” 

“Had I thought that this option was on the table, I would have forbidden it.” 

“And now three kids are stuck with having to save the world,” Rudra sighed incredulously. 

“Oh, bother. Do they at least show promise?” 

“They do. From the security footage we pulled from the motel they stayed at, we can see their powers activating. Most notably with Ari, the bearer of the Heart.” Rudra pulled up the video feed and turned the computer monitor towards Mercy. 

“Hmm. Ari did not take the negative emotion well. They’re tender-hearted, aren’t they?” 

“Seems like it. They’re an empath. Ari wears their heart on their sleeve. Literally. Look where the Heart’s mark showed up.” Rudra pulled up the feed from Brutals confrontation with the teens and showed it to Mercy. 

“The girl with the Brain. She has not used her powers yet.” 

“No, but she has already demonstrated intellect indicative of the Brain. She managed to get past the firewall that kept outsiders away from the plan to convert the Earth's population into Freaks. Her breaking down the firewall is actually how they even got into this mess.” 

“Given how I overheard a few members of your cybersecurity team panicking on my way here, I believe that’s not the only firewall she got past.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Apparently, within five minutes of the first breach, an attacker broke into your system and downloaded your Freak database before leaving the system. Your team is still trying to figure out what happened.” 

Rudra exhaled sharply and held her head in her hands, going silent. “I didn’t fight a war just to be saddled with this sh@t,” She groaned. 

“I didn’t get cut in half to handle this either.” Mercy sighed. “I understand why she did it, though. The Brain’s purpose is to gather information and utilize it correctly. Information concerning what she and the other two are up against would be a great help.” 

“My question is: Why didn’t they come to us for the information? HECU literally builds itself on protecting people from Freaks, why wouldn’t HECU be their first option as far as refuge goes?” 

“Perhaps paranoia. Given their situation, paranoia is perfectly justified,” Mercy pointed out. “I recall attacking you and the Legion at some point the first time you visited my hideout over paranoia.” 

“And the fact that I was at the forefront of the army should have tipped you in that we were not there to fight,” Rudra sighed, dragging her hands across her face in exasperation. 

“You have never liked me. Besides, it had been a long thousand years. Paranoia was justified given the situation. Speaking of new situations, how are the wife and daughter? Did she like the sword staff?” 

Rudra jerked her head up. “...Sword staff? I don’t even own a sword staff. Mercy, what did you do?” 

“I gave her a present. And trained her on safe handling. You knew the possibility existed when you asked me to babysit.” 

“I expect this from Hero, not you,” Rudra groaned. 

“We both know I have an affinity for bladed weapons.” Mercy looked around. “Does the bearer of the Body share that affinity?” 

“No. The only weapon we’ve seen him wield is a handgun he carries.” 

“Oh. Is he good with it?” 

“He is. And he’s cunning. He faked being shot to get Brutal to lower his guard, then shot him in the heart.” 

Mercy grinned. “Impressive,” she mused. “Mankind might actually have a chance.” 

“Now if only the powers didn’t choose a bunch of kids to be humanity’s saving grace,” Rudra groused. 

“Indeed. Or, as you mentioned being possible, create them,” Mercy sighed. “I certainly hope it never enters their heads that they are weapons if that’s the case.” 

“No. The last thing these kids need is to act like they’re weapons and nothing more. That’ll do more damage than it’ll help.” 

“I am aware. Especially the empath. When I think about it, perhaps the power to take on others’ emotions was not a good idea to give them without them first learning to control it.” 

“You think?” 

“I would have prepared for that had I known it would happen,” groaned Mercy.  “As it stands, I will keep close tabs on them. I suggest you do the same.” 

** 

In Spyper's van, the Trio was reading over the database. “So, Spyper, you have a clone or something? Or just someone created the same way? What is RED Spyper to you?” 

“An enemy. I’m pretty sure the doctor who made me created him too as a form of spite,” Spyper groused, scowling heavily. “He’s basically my evil counterpart. A doppelganger, kind of.”

“An evil twin? Like on TV?” Ari asked. 

“Eh...I guess.”

“Cool!” 

“Cool to you. Not to me! That Spyper’s been a pain in my a$$ for years!” 

“Oh. That’s bad.” 

Marcus glanced at Cally, who was staring at the screen, tattoo and eyes glowing pink, face void of emotion. “Uh… Cal? What’s going on?” 

“Is something wrong back there?” Spyper asked, looking over his seat. 

“Cal?” Ari whined. “Cal, cut it out! Say something!” 

No luck. Cally gave a noise akin to a computer hum. 

“Hey, hey! Kid, come on, snap out of it!” Intelligent urged, shaking Cally by the shoulder. 

Cally didn’t reply; she locked eyes with Intelligent, keeping at least one hand on the laptop. 

“Kid? Kid, can you hear me?” Intelligent implored, growing increasingly worried by Cally’s continued silence. 

Cally’s eyes shone, glowing pink voids, hungry for… something. And then, in an instant, the light fell away, replaced with the soft brown eyes she had normally. “Ugh,” she groaned, “my head.” 

“Cal? Are you ok?” Ari exclaimed, climbing to Cally’s side. 

“I- huh? What happened?” 

“You blacked out, Cal,” Marcus replied, crossing his arms. 

“Oh… crap,” Cally groaned. “Good to know. We need to get help.”

“And that’s exactly where we’re going. I’m bringing you three to HECU. In the meantime, you three should probably get some rest. It’s a long trip there,” Spyper said.

[ehyeh-joshua]

One of the hard parts of doing a WW2 story, is coming up with an end result better than the way 1939-1945 turned out with it’s resulting conclusions, while actually doing something.

You can’t get rid of Hitler any time prior to 1945 - without the hindrance on the German military Hitler was, they win the war outright any time prior to the capture of Dunkirk; had Dunkirk and the 300,000 men on the beaches been annihilated, that would have taken Britain out of the war, leaving all of Europe either subordinate to Hitler or conquered, giving the win to whoever attacks first between Germany and Russia. I favour Russia because Germany had nowhere near the military capacity that Russia possessed in 1941, it just got wasted fighting a different war to what the Russian war machine was intended for. After that, there is only a brief window when the USA is outright stronger than Russia, but after that window, we have the Cold War, only this time without the horror of Hiroshima and Nagasaki as warnings against the danger of atom bombs.

The breaking point for Germany was the loss of Stalingrad; Stalingrad, in 1943, is the turning point in the war in the east, because the losses suffered were catastrophic for Germany, and it rendered the short-term military advantage Germany possessed unable to overcome the industrial leverage Russia possessed. A competent commander would have realised the fate of Stalingrad much earlier and redeployed long before risking the loss of six armies. (and 22 generals, as there was at the surrender under desperate conditions; Paulus described having 18,000 wounded without any bandages or medicine, almost a tenth of his forces at the time of the end of the battle)

Further, while the war was lost here, it was not ended here - with competent strategy, Germany could have had a fighting chance at averting the eventual outcome by several years, likely meaning much of Germany would be destroyed by nuclear weapons.

Hitler’s incompetence however, meant the war in Europe ended earlier than it *should* have done.

Now, with Fallen-Star, there is the opportunity - this machine is one of thousands of ancient weapon systems left behind by the “departed ancient alien superpower” trope, designed specifically for the purpose of dealing with whole planets of hostile enemies, and has technological advances that are so superior that it is like comparing today’s military power against that of a horde of baboons; apart from the deus ex machina event of losing one of his thrusters and therefore the capacity to fly due to a lucky hit while cloaked (and therefore necessarily shieldless) this “war” could be wrapped up in a matter of days to eliminate all German resistance; there is no hiding from the sensors it possesses, not even on our technology. It’s only disadvantage is it doesn’t speak our languages, because if it could, it could intercept and track all communication worldwide; think of the scene in one of the Transformers films where the Decepticon goes on the internet, and then keep in mind this thing can track electronic impulses in the brain; once it establishes how to parse those signals, it is effectively able to read minds.

What does that all mean?

It means this thing, within seconds of finishing the scan of eastern Europe, understands all the raw data for stuff like the Holocaust; it knows where every train is, how many people it’s carrying, how many people are in the mass graves, how many people are in the gas chambers, their genetic makeups, what gas is being used, and topological and building layouts down to a precision measured in centimetres. Millimetres if it has more time to scan.

The only thing that justifies delay is having to confirm the level of evil that it’s sensors are telling it before response.

But, it can’t intervene; and not just because of the Hitler time-travel issue - part of the setting for this series is that fairly obviously, Humans are not alone; far from it, to draw on the Tolkien’s names for these tiers of beings, Eru forms many worlds, and Valar shape some of these worlds, and the Maiar bring the Elves and men (and the dwarves) out from Earth to the worlds prepared for them, and then the Maiar deal with the fallout of free will; and setting aside Tolkiensian, creating a galaxy wide war between two sides of the same species (or at least they started the same) one of which creates artificial slavelings to fight battles and the other creates Terminators. The crashed machine of Fallen-Star is one of them.

Now, when I was younger and I had the first thoughts about this particular Terminator, I just wanted him on Earth during WW2 and thereafter, eventually departing as a passenger back to his starship in either the US or Russian space programs.

Now, however, I have to think it through more thoroughly.

This machine has already seen stuff that makes the Holocaust look ok; it’s seen planets being destroyed and consumed for resources, it’s seen twenty sentient species created to be slaves or genetically modified to be slaves, and when it’s creators lost, it had to watch it’s creators destroy themselves in a black hole to draw in their enemies as bait while it and it’s fellow Terminators had to mop up the survivors, and then try to keep the surviving younger-races safe; it’s part of why this one has had a previous visit to Earth, because survivors of the evil side of the Maiar equivalent came to Earth and claimed to be angels and gods, and then used Humans in their experiments, creating the Nephilim; by the time he catches up, Noah has already been instructed to build the Ark, and the Terminator assesses the extent of the corruption and cannot think of a way to save Earth better than wiping it all out and beginning anew, despite trying after meeting an actual angel that explained the plan.

And it comes to Earth, and while it doesn’t understand everything, it comes in on what was supposed to be a routine survey mission (it does have the most advanced sensors in the galaxy) it’s first step is scanning for Humans, and knowing what happened last time, it runs a genetic analysis - it can clearly see the planet is still in a state of not far off global war, and it is facing the old memories.

Only now, it finds something worse; these Humans don’t have that explanation, what’s going on is all on them. It detects the concentration camps, the gulags, the internment camps, the mass starvations, the forced resettlements and most worryingly, it detects limited but active nuclear weapons research after scanning for the relevant specific isotopes; it at least has the relief of knowing the Humans have only just figured out how to go about distinguishing the necessary isotopes. It is facing the realistic possibility that one of the galaxy’s few “Gaia” worlds might have only ten years left before being rendered uninhabitable.

It has to respond; first step confirm the sensor results, and if those come back as truthful, it then has to act, it can’t stand by and do nothing. Not again.

But, what choices does it have?

Sure, it could just kerb-stomp them, but that would only mean installing an even worse dictatorship for the “greater good”, as either he fills the power vacuum, or someone else does. It doesn’t fix the problem, only delays it.

He can’t exactly side with one of the local powers either - he can already see none of them are innocent; while he doesn’t know the names, he can tell the Americans are imprisoning Japanese-Americans, the British are starving millions of Bengalis to death, the Germans are likewise conducting genocide, the Japanese are conducting experiments on the Chinese, the Russians are seemingly imprisoning and starving to death millions of their own population; that can be figured out from an orbital sensor sweep, nevermind in-depth research.

No, he has to somehow influence the Humans to do the right thing. And that creates a plot-hole really, because he can help, he wants to help, but he has to hold back because taking any kind of main platform will make it worse; all he can do is give aid to the Jan Karski’s in the world and decreasing the capability of the long-term threat from within.

When I was younger, I didn’t think about it - of course he comes down and gets stranded and can’t leave until the Humans develop the tech to enable him to do so. It just happens that way. But, now it’s an issue...

[affinityunbound]

Chapter 4: Con Te Partirò

The next day...

Yori left her house just as she did the day before, giving both her parents a hug and a kiss goodbye. Before she could get far, her mother opened the door.

“Yori, honey, please don’t do anything like yesterday. Being courageous is one thing, but that was just...” she trailed off.

Yori stopped in her tracks and turned around.

“I know, mom. I had Elric with me, though! I didn’t think it was that reckless. If I’m going to be a soldier, I have to get used to things like that.” she gave a smirk.

“Just... promise me you’ll be careful.” 

Yori could hear a sniffle being repressed. She walked back towards her and hugged her as tight as she could.

“I promise.” Yori leaned back and looked her mom in the eye. It seemed to satisfy her, even just a little bit. 

“I’ll be home later today, mom. This isn’t goodbye.” she spun around and began walking away with one more wave. 

Her mom stood in the door frame, silently. She closed the door and that was that.

Yori walked along the same road she and Elric did just before when she realized Elric was nowhere to be found. It’s not like he promised to meet her as he did yesterday, but it did strike her as odd. She continued walking, wondering what happened with him and Nortia earlier. 

“Yori.” a familiar voice called her from the side.

“Elric?” Yori turned to her left and saw him. She walked towards him, off the path she was heading.

“I presume you are on your way to see General Nortia, yes?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, aren’t you?” 

“Of course. I just wanted to visit my parents before we did.” Elric glanced behind him.

About a mile behind him was a black, metal fence that covered a wide, square shaped area. The center of the fence held an open gate, and above the gate was a sign.

Propietra Memorial Cemetery.

Elric wordlessly began walking towards it, Yori following just as silently behind. Before long, the two walked through the gate, Elric taking Yori right to where they needed to go.

He stood with both arms crossed, facing downward at what remained of his immediate family. Yori rested her hand on his shoulder, glancing upward with a frown.

“I brought the flowers earlier today, before you arrived.” Elric responded, not looking at her.

“They’re lovely.” she replied.

“Thank you. I may not have known either of them very well, but my aunt tells me Aurora loved tulips. Any kind would do. My dad was never fussy, so a simple tulip bouquet suffices.” he knelt down and ran his hand along the front of the tombstone.

“I think they would be very proud of the person you’ve become, Elric.” 

Elric didn’t respond for what felt like hours. He stood up straight and stared down at the tombstone. All Yori could hear was the sound of the wind blowing against the leaves of nearby trees. 

“I was only five years old when they left.” he said, expression unchanging.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It is not your fault. I am not here to grieve. I am here to remind myself of who I am.” Elric responded.

The wind blew a little harder, making Elric’s cape flutter in the wind. 

“I had my doubts about following you, Yori. About joining the military. I see now that it is more important than ever that I do.” 

“What makes you say that?” she asked, almost confused by his words.

“I have no plans to kill anyone. I will never make more orphans in this world, or parents without children. Everyone has friends or family.” 

“You don’t want anyone to hurt as much as you do...” Yori glanced away from him and down at the tombstone.

“I had said I am not here to grieve. I am here to remind myself why I still choose to join alongside you.” Elric’s face turned to face her.

“Why...?” Yori needed an answer. She turned to face him as well.

“I cannot let you join alone. The reason is twofold: I would feel guilty should something happen to you, and I cannot allow you to take anyone’s life.” Elric said, in what sounded like the most serious he has ever been with Yori.

“Elric...”

“Why are you joining, Yori? I need a proper answer from you. You could have a bright future in anything you choose. Why do you want to risk throwing your life away to the army? How could you put yourself in harm’s way?” Elric leaned in closer, almost too close for Yori’s liking.

“I... I have to. I don’t know what else I’m going to do with my life. I don’t have any skills that are applicable outside of, well, this. I’m a sharpshooter with keen perception. I spent all my life in school and I...”

“You need someone to tell you what to do, is that it?” 

“...What?” Yori was confused.

“You spent your whole life having people tell you what to do. You feel as if you cannot handle yourself on your own. What better way to have people tell you what to do than joining the army? Nevermind the possibility that you could kill someone innocent. Nevermind the possibility that you could die at any point and not even know who did it. Nevermind your parents having to bury their only daughter. Nev-”

“That’s enough!” Yori stepped back and shouted. She stomped on the ground in front of him, chest heaving and eyes slightly teary.

“Yori...”

“Elric, that’s enough. Please. Just... just give me a minute.”

Elric nodded and let Yori recompose herself. It didn’t take long, but to them it felt like an eternity of awkward silence. 

“Alright... alright. Elric, I can explain. Why do I want to join the army, huh...? I guess I wanted to prove I can fight just as much as anyone else. Not having an affinity was never easy for me, growing up. Always comparing myself against others, wondering why I wasn’t special like they were..” Yori trailed off.

“Is it as if you felt others had greatness thrust upon them, while you were left with nothing?” Elric asked.

“You could say that, I guess. I worked hard to make myself special from everyone else. How exactly can I make myself stand out when everyone else can manipulate things like space, earth, spirit, air... All I had was my gun and wits. I spent hours studying, practicing, pushing myself to my limits. I was clinging to a hope that I might end up having an epiphany and discovering I may actually have an affinity. I mean, some people don’t realize they have them until later in life! Maybe I’m one of those people!” Yori shouted.

“Yori...” Elric looked a little concerned.

“Is it not understandable, then, that I would wanna join the army? Yeah, I’ll be a private for a while, but if the only thing I’m good at is sniping and taking orders, then I may as well make use of it! Nothing else makes me want to try as hard as any of this!”

Yori wanted to say more, but her words were caught in her throat. 

“I’m so sorry.” Yori managed to squeak out.

Elric walked closer and hugged her. 

“I should be the one to apologize. I believe the conversation General Nortia and I had yesterday left me on edge. I should not have taken that out on you.” Elric patted her back.

“And you still want to join with me...?” she asked.

“Yes. You are not a killer. I refuse to allow blood on your hands. If I can stay close to you, then maybe you will never forget what is important.” Elric stepped back, letting go.

Yori took a few moments to process what he said.

“I think they’d expect me to do my job, Elric. What if the person in my scope is really... really evil? What if stopping them was the only choice?” she wanted to hear his response.

“I still do not believe any murder is justified.” he said sternly.

“Maybe you’re right. Even still...” Yori thought about it.

“We can talk more as we head back to the military base. We should go.” Elric held her hand and turned away.

Yori looked down at Elric’s parents’ grave one last time as he guided her away. 

“Thanks... Elric.” 

“Thank you as well, Yori.” 

FIRST | PREV | NEXT

[marymosley]

“I See Nothing Wrong With It”: Rhode Island Professor Defends Murder Of Right-Wing Protester In Portland

Most human beings were disgusted by the murder of Aaron “Jay” Danielson, the member of the right-wing group Patriot Prayer, in Portland. University of Rhode Island Professor Erik Loomis is not among them. Loomis defended the killing by Michael Reinoehl, an Antifa member who appears to have stalked Danielson before gunning him down.  Loomis insisted that any problem in gunning down right-wing counterprotesters was tactical not moral.

I testified in the Senate about the erosion of free speech and rise of violence on our campuses and in our streets. Antifa and related groups have succeeded in advancing anti-free-speech agendas as students and faculty justify attacks on those with opposing views.  Loomis has long espoused extremist views and violent language, including calling for NRA executive Wayne LaPierre’s “head on a stick.”

In his latest post, Loomis justifies the murdering of those who hold opposing views. He adopts the rhetoric used by Antifa extremists in labeling those on the other side of protests as “fascists” and then justifies any means to resist them, including apparently murder.

In his  blog post titled “Why was Michael Reinoehl killed?,” Loomis is outraged not by Reinoehl killing Danielson but the fact that police killed Reinoehl.  (Police say that Reinoehl pulled a gun when they were trying to arrest him). Loomis insisted that it was murder:

“Michael Reinoehl is the guy who killed the fascist in Portland last week. He admitted it and said he was scared the cops would kill him. Well, now the cops have killed him. I am extremely anti-conspiracy theory. But it’s not a conspiracy theory at this point in time to wonder if the cops simply murdered him. The police is [sic] shot through with fascists from stem to stern. They were openly working with the fascists in Portland, as they were in Kenosha which led to dead protestors.”

Loomis seems more concerned that he might be espousing a “conspiracy theory” than a justification for murder.  In responding to a comment that “Erik, he shot and killed a guy,” Loomis responded “He killed a fascist. I see nothing wrong with it, at least from a moral perspective.” He then added that “tactically, that’s a different story. But you could say the same thing about John Brown.”

So it is merely a tactical not a moral question to stalk and murder someone with opposing views?

Loomis has repeatedly referenced John Brown. Brown of course was not just responsible for the raid on Harper’s Ferry but the Pottawatomie massacre that helped triggered the period called “Bleeding Kansas” and involved the hacking to death of five unarmed settlers viewed as pro-slavery.

The most Loomis conceded is that “the problem with violence is that it usually, though not always, is a bad idea. That I agree with.” Yet, he then added 

“Yes, sometimes violence is necessary, say to avoid greater physical harm, i.e. self-defense, or to defeat a literal army of fascists who are trying to kill people. But, ideologically, I think the idea that violence is good if it’s against our political enemies is a core part of fascism, and so the ideological opposition to that idea should be its opposite – that violence as a general rule is bad, unless the specific context of that situation requires a violent response.”

The specific context in Portland is that Danielson went with a right-wing group to advocate for his own views, just as protesters from Black Lives Matter have been doing. He was stalked and murdered, which Loomis finds perfectly moral.

Loomis’ rhetoric and views are strikingly similar to those in the “bible” of the Antifa movement: Rutgers Professor Mark Bray’s Antifa: The Anti-Fascist Handbook. As I stated in my Senate testimony, Antifa bears strong resemblance to groups that emerged during earlier periods of attacks on free speech. Simply replacing anti-communism with anti-fascism does not materially change the same anti-free speech purpose of these movements. The purpose of governmental or non-government threats are the same in seeking to not only silence opponents, but to deter others from joining them. The absolutism of their goals is used to justify any means to achieve them. Specifically, Antifa’s categorical rejection of opposing views as worthy of protection is strikingly similar to the view of anti-Communists during the Red Scare. Antifa followers refuse to recognize the views of opponents as legitimate or “a difference of opinion.” Their goal is not co-existence but, as stated in the Antifa Handbook, “to end their politics.” Bray and other academics are liberating students from the confines of what they deem the false “allegiance to liberal democracy.” Once freed of the values of free speech and democratic values, violence becomes merely politics by other means. It is the very mindset that was once used against communists and Marxists in the 1950s.

What is so striking is how Danielson is no longer treated as a human being with family or even individual worth. Loomis seems to revel in the notion that such lives are now inconsequential and can be taken for purely tactical reason.  It is the liberating element of extremism.  Once uncoupled from the confines of morality, Loomis and others can assume a license for violence, even murder, to advance their agenda.

For an academic to espouse such hateful and violent views is particularly distressing.  There are likely many conservatives among the student body at Rhode Island who Loomis would also declare “fascists.”  Their lives would be equally fungible and worthless under this view. It is often hard to advocate for the free speech rights of people like Loomis when he justifies not just the silencing but the actual killing of those with opposing views. However, Loomis is the price of free speech.

Notably, however, few of his colleagues have come forward to denounce his statements. Indeed, when the University President last criticized Loomis’ violence rhetoric, he was attacked by other faculty for siding with the critics of Loomis. We have seen universities denounce academics who have espoused opposing views, but this academic can reportedly defend murder without widespread and immediate condemnation from his colleagues.  Indeed, academics have been sacked for declaring “All Lives Matter” but Loomis does not even generate immediate condemnation for saying that this life does not matter if actually terminated in the name of the greater good.  This was clearly made in his personal not academic capacity. Yet, that does not mean that other academics cannot stand against such hateful, violent views.

“I See Nothing Wrong With It”: Rhode Island Professor Defends Murder Of Right-Wing Protester In Portland published first on https://immigrationlawyerto.tumblr.com/