#this has been a message from your local council

[abronzeagegod]

Writing prompt: a flower in a garden wakes up one day, in a red dress.

[Thanks for the ask and the prompt! I know it took a while to get done but work has been kicking my ass lately. Also this one got away from me, as most of these things do! If anyone has any more prompts feel free to send them my way, i might not get to them in a timely fashion though.]

Well, she thought, this is not right.

One minute she was standing in the dirt, trees and sky overhead anxiously awaiting the dawning of the sun, of the warmth, the light, the energy all around her.

Now she's laying in the dirt, looking up at the trees and the sky and the bright sun of the early morning and instead of feeling alive and invigorated and bright and happy, she feels alive and warm, and kind of sticky and that's not very comfortable.

"DA!" came a sudden and loud voice from nearby. Before such a voice from the family that lived in the nearby cottage would be mere background noise, but now it was loud, screeching, and demanding attention. "There's a weird lady laying in the dirt outside!"

There was a pause of blessed silence before a new voice yelled from nearby.

"JONATHAN I'M FIXIN TA GROUND YA FER A YEAR!"

Immediately following this new declaration there was the sound of something loud and clanging, as the one in trouble tried to make good an escape.

A few moments later there came a cloud that covered the sun.

"Ok, up ya get," said the voice.

Standing over her was a man, dark skin, lovely looking, but tired.

The woman shook her head. She just kind of instinctively knew that it meant 'no'.

"Ya likely ta burn out here, let me fix ya something ta eat n drink and we'll fix ya right up."

"I can't move. My root are in the ground. I get my nourishment from the sun and the rain."

"Ya, that mighta been the case, but my daft son emptied the potion vat on ya pretty head and now yer a woman and not a plant. So up ya git. Come in the house, we'll fix ya up in a bit."

She knew her body was wrong, she knew that it had changed and was different, but she didn't want to acknowledge it until this moment. She wanted to still be a plant.

"Come on now."

Reluctantly, she tried to get the body to move correctly. It was hard and odd and getting used to having a body full of blood and muscle, sinew and bone, was not something that came easily. Coordination was tricky.

"Like trickin' a drunk to come home with a biscuit," muttered the man.

Getting into the small cottage and sitting down took entirely too long.

"Samuel," the father said to his youngest, "fetch some water and make our guest sommin ta eat. I hafta fix this mess."

The young boy ran off to fetch some water from the nearby well.

The woman sat (sitting was decidedly a strange sensation, so many things had to bend in just the right ways and they only bend in certain ways) at the table, and with a glass of water in front of her, was delighted. She needed water, she loved water. She stuck her hand in the glass and sat there contented.

"Ya don't absorb water like that," the father said as he worked over a small cauldron. "Ya hafta use yer mouth."

The youngest son had to then help the woman learn to use this stupid mouth appendage thing to consume water. How inefficient and gross.

"I must apologize fer my son," the father said. "His chores taday were to clean up after our business. We make n sell potions. Magic n such in the form of liquid. Tha other day, ya see, we had an order fer some potions of polymorph, tha magic of turnin things inta other things. Insteada disposin of it all proper like, my idiot spawn Jon was a wee bit lazy, an dumped it all out in ta garten, which had the unfortunate side affect of turning you from a lovely lil rose bush into this her young woman ya are now."

The youngest child also tried to show the woman how to eat some of the bread that they had made the day before. It was a bit of a challenge to be sure, but there was also something so special and delicious and amazing about the texture, the feel, and the taste of the bread that she had never before experienced.

"Right. This here potion to put ya back is going ta take a few hours or so. Wanna make good use of those legs yer got there and see the world outside tha garten?"

The woman who was once a flower was intrigued by the idea of the world beyond what her limited perceptions could see in her normal form. She agreed, and following the older man she followed him out of the house and beyond the realm of the garden that she had spent all of her life in.

The world outside the house and the garden was vast and strange and so deeply interesting. The trees were all different and interesting! There were more birds and squirrels and other things that she never could have imagined existing outside after she walked for just a little bit.

There was a small river with fish! They walked across a waterfall! They saw things of so many different colors! They even saw the man's neighbor who spoke loudly and with a strange accent that the woman could barely understand. The man had a horse with him that was so large and beautiful that if she was still a flower she would have been terrified of being trampled.

"The world is so beautiful," she remarked to the man as they walked back towards the cottage.

"Aye, it is. But it's also dangerous and strange and violent sumtimes. There's a great beauty out there. But also great pain."

"What if I didn't want to go back to being a flower?"

The man sighed, resting his hands in his pockets. "Aye. Well we could leave ya be. Teach ya how to live, to survive. Bein a human is hard. Ya can't just feed off tha sun, live off tha rain. There's work ya gotta do to live. It's hard."

He paused for a long time.

"The longer ya stay a human or a bird or whatever ya like, the harder it is ta go back. After a time ya can't go back. Ya saw more than you would have as a plant, aye, that's true. But with all tha good comes all tha bad. You love tha people you love, sometimes they leave, sometimes you leave. Sometimes nothing much happens but change occurs and ya aren't the same person they loved so much. With tha heat comes tha burning. With tha cold comes tha freezing. Ya grow, ya age, ya eventually die. It's not something I wanna put on you, just because ya saw some pretty nature outside yer little plot. Bein human ain't nothing I wanna put on another bein if they got a choice in the matter."

"So what is going to happen to me?"

"I think... I think... we're gonna put ya back. I think it's fer the best. And if ya still dream of bein a person, the next time we make some potion we'll save some fer ya and turn ya back." There was a long silence as they approached the house and the familiar garden. "It's always easy to see tha new and tha excitin as the best thing, but I wouldn't wantta ta make the choice without knowin how good yer old life will feel when ya return to the dirt."

"Yes, I can see how that would be nice."

"If ya'd like I can put ya in the house, so you can be close by and watch er whatever ya do."

"I think I'd like that. Thank you for everything. You didn't have to do any of this to help me. But I appreciate it."

"Of course," the man said. "Now let's get ya back."

"I hope it won't be too long before I see you again."

"If you come back, we'll be happy ta have ya again."

After the potion was administered and the woman returned to being a rose bush once more, the man worked on replanting her in a large pot.

"If you come back and fall in love wit either of me sons I'm gonna have ta turn ya right back inta a plant. Can't have this nonsense happenin again."

i have a kofi

[megabuild]

Here's Pixriffs' full post today along with links. ID/transcript under the cut.

Doctors Without Borders / WFP / MSF / IFRC

Today's Minecraft Survival Guide episode has been postponed in solidarity with a global movement calling for a ceasefire and end to hostilities in Gaza.I've been watching the violence unfold through the lens of media here in the UK, and conversations with my partner and friends - and while I try to keep my online presence light and entertaining, I don't want to turn a blind eye to this situation and I encourage anyone with a conscience to do the same.To be absolutely clear, I condemn the violent actions of Hamas and the rise of antisemitic sentiment in the wake of these events. With the same voice I condemn the disproportionate and shocking mass violence the government and military of Israel has brought to the civilian population of Gaza in their retaliation, the restriction of aid from Gaza with its continued assault, and the rising wave of islamophobia in the West Bank and elsewhere.

On December 8th the UN Security Council voted almost unanimously to demand a ceasefire in Gaza. Only two countries dissented - the UK, which abstained from the vote, and the USA, who blocked the call for a ceasefire with their power of veto. The last successful exchange of Israeli and Palestinian hostages came at the previous ceasefire, and with it came an opportunity for organizations to reach displaced Palestinian civilians with aid. Now any further ceasefire is looking increasingly unlikely, with humanitarian and aid organisations like Doctors Without Borders (MSF) calling this "a vote against humanity".

In recent weeks my partner and I have contacted our local member of the UK Parliament, who has been pushing for the UK to support a ceasefire and humanitarian aid access to Gaza. I encourage you to contact your elected representatives, and donate to aid organizations the UN World Food Programme (https://www.wfp.org/), MSF (https://www.doctorswithoutborders.ca/), and the Red Cross and Red Crescent (https://www.ifrc.org/), who are working to provide assistance to civilians on both sides of this conflict.

I recognize it's a huge shift from light-hearted family-friendly Minecraft videos to messages like this - but having seen the amount of families affected by this conflict, families who deserve a chance to raise their children in health and in peace, I wanted to share a message of compassion. I hope for a lasting and meaningful peace and will continue to support organizations which are working towards that goal. Survival Guide will return on Wednesday.

Much love.

Pix

[monstersdownthepath]

How much interplanar travel can a party engage in before they get noticed? If there is a 'frequency' limit? Writing / running a very long thing with a friend (challenge: Run through all of the Adventure Path stories and see how things shake out) and wanted to ask. All of the references I could find just involved 'volume / magnitude' of travel, like an outright interplanar invasion a la Worldwound that gets the wrong kind of attention from Inevitables, with no clauses for frequent but small-scale travel in the vein of a few people a day. Also wanted to ask how difficult it is to track people and find intel across planar borders - efforts have been taken to try and keep a relatively low profile, but that only gets you so far when you've annoyed an Archdevil who may be willing to feed the other enemies you've made information. For such a relatively low-stakes, low-impact AP (just one city, really), Council of Thieves has a weirdly high danger level in the post-campaign.

------

However much the DM allows before things get silly.

If you want a more solid answer, the question I have to ask is "how big is the trail of destruction the players are leaving in their wake?"

In the normal day-to-day, a handful of people using Plane Shift to get to a new plane with their friends and luggage is, on a cosmic scale, no more unusual than an American packing their bags and heading to Europe. The fact most Inner Sphere planes (and a few Outer Sphere ones) have designated areas specifically for interplanar travelers means that, despite the fantastical magic being involved, it's still considered mundane and not especially noteworthy.

However.

If your players are getting up to the level of shenanigans an average adventuring party typically gets up to when they're high enough level to be casually Plane Shifting around, it's very likely that their tomfoolery is going to attract a lot of attention from a lot of interplanar cops in short order! And I don't just mean the likes of Inevitables; if the party is making big enough messes, they may attract the attention of not only the Inevitables, but things higher up on the chain that are ready to put them in the Time-Out Dimension until they behave.

On more mundane notes, local genies upset with the party likely have access to Sending (which pierces planar barriers and allows brief 2-way communication) to put their friends in other planes on lookout, and the spell Trace Teleport exists and works against Plane Shift. If the caster has enough of a heads up (like, say, a message from the mentioned Archdevil, who can likely freely scry on the party since every Archdevil has Scrying at-will), they can track down the party and use Trace Teleport to find out where they've gone, then alert their allies (or enemies) in the area to the party's presence.

In a normal campaign, tracking someone across planar boundaries is basically impossible without some severe DM fiat or the aforementioned niche tracking spell. They are, after all, hopping into a new universe; just hopping onto a new planet would have been confounding enough. Planets are big! There's a lot of places to hide! But any demigod is a rough enemy to make, because once they know your face and name, it's very hard to hide from something that can scry at will.

[skepticalarrie]

This ask has me seething with rage lol. It’s not about being British, it’s about class and if you are not British working class then you won’t get it.

Firstly, you’re not comparing how British Harry and Louis are by talking about their likes and dislikes, I was raised on a council estate in Cheshire very close to where Harry was raised and let me tell you, he was very very comfortable before the band. I am not saying he was rich because there’s a massive difference between £60k a year and multimillions but he would not have had to think about money growing up, he lived in a very safe area, he was incredibly comfortable and that comes with a certain amount of financial conservatism regardless of how socially liberal you are, as well as general ingrained “snobbishness” which is not me insulting him, it’s just the culture.

Chavy would’ve been an insult to Harry’s family. Louis on the other hand was raised working class, again I’m not saying he was on the brink of homelessness, but definitely living paycheck to paycheck rather than with a buffer to fall back on if anything went wrong. The area itself was less affluent, less safe, more multicultural (Cheshire is white, especially 15+ years ago). His background and priorities and comforts from his youth are different to Harry’s, he has the working class camaraderie, he likes the pub (I could write an essay on Harry’s local vs Louis local but only British people could understand it lol) and football and fastfood and whatever else you deem trashy or chavy because he did grow up as what Harry’s peers would call a “chav” and he’s allowed to reclaim that. It is nice when you’ve been called a chav too to see someone like you not immediately distance themselves from the working class when they make it big and I suppose you either feel that or you don’t.

Also, imagine being from that background and then overnight you’re a millionaire. You can lose your identity. Again I could write more about why it was essential for Louis and Zayn to have each other so as not to totally lose themselves because you can’t take a working class northern teenager to Hollywood and expect them not to be psychologically affected, so I think it’s impressive that Louis has been able to combine those identities and carry his past with him whilst also obviously enjoying the finer things too.

That was an essay and I only got like half of my thoughts across sorry Allie, but basically what I want to say is stop policing how Louis identifies with the social class he grew up in. It’s not an act, he’s not deceiving anyone, he has expensive taste too and he’s not hiding that, he’s just proud of where he came from and it’s insulting when people can’t accept that he’s a multifaceted person.

Thank you so much, anon! I appreciate this message so much. When I used the argument that “Louis is just very british” and reclaiming his roots, I thought about developing the thought but I don’t think I’m in a place to do that since I’m not british in the first place. And you just did that in a beautiful way. I don’t think people fully realise how americanized their images were back then and how much the industry still keeps forcing artists on that. So when we see someone is so openly proud of something that is not american at all, that comes across as weird and forced. It’s a shame.

In reference to this and this

[wizard-news]

NEWS FOR THE WEEK.

OMENS AND PORTENTS SPOTTED

Clarkii Kelp

Seers and Doomsayers across the world have begun reporting omens of doom in various forms. One reports a graveyard with a single seagull standing on each grave, while another has seen strange shadows in their oatmeal. According to omenologist Handel Nahled this wide range of portents is very rare, and even potentially universe-destroying events do not give such results. Xe says that xe "shudder to think what could be the cause".

-

WIZARD NEWS BOOK OF THE YEAR

The Dark Tribunal

It was very difficult to choose our Book of the Year, especially considering the events.

In the end we did have to come to a decision. Ultimately we decided that we should focus on outsider perspectives this year, and that's why our Book of the Year is Why People in The City Of Towers Ought to Give Me $5,760 by Leomard 'Lem' the Red. A fantastically funny autobiography about Leomard's experiences adjusting to the noncapitalist realities of Wizard Society.

-

NOIRUS OUTBREAK

Gamping the Amphibious

There has recenty been a resurgence of Noirus in several communities. Noirus is a genre disease that causes infected locales to narrative and stylistic traits associated with the Noir genre.

Common symptoms are:

Ambiguous Morality

Continuous Rain

Increased Rate of Monologue

Dramatic Lighting

Existentialism

If you believe that your community is becoming infected, report it to your local Council representative.

-

THE SKULL

THE SKULL

THE SKULL

-

LICH IN INHERITANCE DISPUTE

Cam Camcam

Hagatorix the Wise recently rose as a litch, and is attempting to regain their castle, library, and wardrobe from their nephew and sole heir, Gahatrixor the Knowledgeable. Gahatrixor argues that, as Hagatorix is still technically dead, Gahatrixor is legally entitled to "all their old, dusty, crap". Gahatrixor apparently intends to "Refurbish and Resell" Hahatorix's estate. Currently the Wizard Courts are still deliberating on the case.

-

THE SUN WENT AWAY

Slod Mori

The wizard @nefarious-exclam briefly extinguished the sun. The sudden cold darkness caused the Ice People from time immemorial to rise from their hidden caverns and attempt to regain the world that once was theirs. The sun did get put back, but who knows what further consequences may come of these actions.

-

THE THIEF RETURNS

Corded Wyre

The Lost-Day thief has returned, and this time has left a calling card. The card reads:

THANK YOU To My Adoring Fans DAME D'LUNE

Accompanying the message is a scribbled drawing of a flute. We now know that the thief is this "Dame D'Lune", but that raises the question: Who is the Dame D'Lune?

[redcreekfm]

could i get some secret suggestions?

𝐇𝐈 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 this took a bit longer , but thank you for patience & your sweet message ! some of these secrets include locations , which you can find on our location page . — someone that is active in the church , but doesn't have any real faith in religion . — someone that accidentally started a fire ( sometime back ) in norwood street , a quieter and more friendly area compared to saber street , and has lived in constant fear that someone will find out . — someone that's been stealing from the locals and pawning them to the ghosts in the attic . — someone that abandoned their spouse and children and never looked back . — a butcher at amrak grocery store that actually has a criminal past and faked his papers . — someone that works at the red creek k-12 and has an affair with one of the children’s parents . this doesn’t have to be necessary someone that works there , but the  heartbreak motel  is the perfect place for secret affairs  ! — someone that inherited a lot of money , but hasn't told anyone else . — a drugs dealer that deals  secretly at  the warehouse  and maybe they steal the drugs from the pharmacy . — someone from the town council that steals money from the town . — someone that responsible for one of their parents going to prison . — someone that was involved in university black market and stole exam papers , selling them to others , or they never did and only cared about their own success . —  someone who doesn’t know that the sister / brother they have been “ raised ” alongside with is actually their parent . it's more of a family secret than their own . alternatively , your muse could be the parent of the child , but because they had their kid at such a young age and didn’t want a scandal , they have been acting like their siblings .  —  someone that lost all their money on bets and hides this from their family  . think this is especially fun if its someone older and has a family that they need to take care of . — a waitress at  lakeside grill  that steals from the tip jar and doesn’t share with her colleagues . this can also be a cashier at the  amrak grocery store  . — this one is a bit more embarrassing then angsty , but someone that visits the sisters of the moon , psychic shop for every big decision in their life , but won't tell anyone about it . — someone that was involved in a hit - and - run in a nearby town and fled the scene , this could also be a secret involving two people with both muses covering up what happened . — a muse that spend their teenage years ruining their friends' relationships for fun , and could still be doing that . — someone that npc alaina price ( reason utp ) , and now with her being murdered they've been very quiet about their previous dislikes . — someone that tries to capitalize off on their own family tragedy ( perhaps they were related to one of the npcs ) , and are trying to sell their story to a publishing company . — someone that bribed & influenced a prestigious university to get their child enrolled . #operationvarsityblues — someone that pretends to be wealthy , when they are not . alternatively , your muse could have been wealthy in the past , but lost it all , and still pretends to be well - off .

[rockitmans]

Blaine Anderson Vs Valentine's Day (5/14)

Summary: Blaine drunk posts on his Instagram asking for a date for Valentine's Day. He gets one.

Notes: Written for the @klaineccfanficlibrary Valentine Challenge. Today's song is You're The Best Thing by The Style Council

This one's for @cerriddwenluna who has not only been a wonderful cheerleader for this fic but also inspired this chapter with our mutual Elliott love

Read on AO3 or below

~~~~~~~

Blaine wakes up with his phone pressed against his cheek. He'd stayed up so late talking to Kurt that he'd fallen asleep in the middle of typing out a sentence. He can barely believe how long they spent chatting. They just clicked so instantly that everything felt easy. The conversation meandered with the joyful flow of close friends, helped along by the huge amount they seem to have in common. 

Blaine is slightly suspicious he really did manage to manifest Kurt into being through pure wish power. He's that perfect. Or maybe he has some glaring flaw that has yet to reveal itself. Maybe he thinks that Katy Perry is overrated. 

Blaine flips open his DMs, not really expecting much, but is delighted to see a new message from Kurt. 

Kurt: Good morning, sunshine ☀️

It's a simple enough message but it tells Blaine two things. That Kurt isn't interested in playing games with him, which is nice after the mental gymnastics he occasionally went through with his exes. And that Kurt woke up thinking about him. Which means Blaine isn't alone.

Blaine: Good morning. I have to go to my real person job today 😔

Kurt: Same here. Catch you later though?

Blaine: Absolutely 

*

Blaine's Real Person Job is at his local record store but he barely considers it work. He just gets to talk to people about music all day. He also gets to hang out with his favourite colleague, Elliott, who always buys him a morning coffee without fail. Angels exist in the form of Elliott Gilbert. 

"Morning, Bee," Elliott greets him, pushing a Starbucks cup into his hand. He peers into Blaine's face. "You okay, skipper? You look tired."

"I was up most of the night," Blaine admits. 

"Lucky you." Elliott waggles his eyebrows and Blaine glares playfully.

"Not for that. Um… Sebastian and I broke up actually."

"Oh." Elliott frowns. "Is it too early to admit I never liked him? Or are we still in the 'mourning and pretending he was wonderful' stage?" 

Blaine laughs weakly. "Insult away. He cheated on me."

Elliott stiffens. "Where does he live, again?"

"No. You're not killing Sebastian."

"Not even like a little spook? Some casual threats of violence?"

"No."

"Fine," Elliott sighs. "But seriously, how are you holding up?"

Blaine thinks about it. Waking up with thoughts of Kurt had kept the grief at bay. And, if he's being really honest with himself, Sebastian was always more fun than Forever. They were never going to be picking out paint samples or arguing over who would pay for the Netflix account. He just wishes Sebastian had told him the expiry was up on their relationship and that they had parted amicably. Not that he had fucked a random from the gym. 

"I'm doing okay," he says honestly. "More pissed off that he cheated than about the relationship being over."

"Understandable."

"And…" Blaine hesitates, wondering if it's too early to start talking about Kurt. 

"And?" Elliott echoes curiously. 

"Well… And don't judge me. I kind of started talking to someone else."

"Blaine Anderson, you slut," Elliott gasps, sounding thrilled. "Tell me everything."

"Not like that. Just. A guy messaged me on Instagram."

"Oh my God."

"I know, I know. But honestly it's all been very wholesome. We talked all night. It was kind of wonderful actually."

"That is… incredibly boring but I'm thrilled for you, truly."

"Sorry you can't vicariously live your sex life through me," Blaine says tartly. "I hate to disappoint."

"That's ok. I'm used to disappointment."

Blaine flips him off and Elliott laughs.

"Just be careful, okay?" Elliott adds more seriously. "Not everyone is who they claim to be on the internet."

"I'm being careful," Blaine lies. "It's not like I'm planning to meet him anytime soon." The dinner reservation at Di Fara set for less than two weeks away  flashes like a beacon in his mind. He could so easily invite Kurt. He ignores the impulse. 

Elliott hums doubtfully. He knows Blaine far too well.

*

Blaine makes it a grand total of four hours before he messages Kurt again. Which is fine and normal and completely chill, actually. 

Blaine: I'm on lunch if you wish to be bothered

It takes Kurt fifteen minutes to respond and Blaine spends the time bouncing his knee anxiously and reminding himself that Kurt actually does have A Life and it's not all about him. Unfortunately.

Kurt: Bother away 

Kurt: How's real life going?

Blaine: Extremely boring

Kurt: Mine too. No cute, half naked guys in my Insta feed today 😔

Blaine: Listen

"What are you smiling about so much?" Elliott interjects, wandering into the break room and stealing a bite of Blaine's sandwich. He looks at the phone in Blaine's hand. "Oh my God. Are you talking to your Instagram man right now? Your Insta-man?"

"Shut up."

"That's not a no."

"I thought this was a safe space," Blaine complains and Elliott cackles. 

"I'm not judging. You're adorable. "

"You say you're not judging but your tone says otherwise."

"Don't leave him on read," Elliott urges, waving him away and grabbing a magazine. "God forbid I get in the way of 'true love.'"

"I can hear the quotation marks," Blaine mutters but he glances back at his phone. 

Kurt: I'm listening intently 

Blaine: Sorry. My friend interrupted my flow to ask me why I was smiling so much

Kurt: Oh? And why ARE you smiling so much

Blaine: I've made a horrible mistake

Kurt: 😂

Blaine: I'm being bullied from all sides today

Kurt: No. I've been smiling all day too. Because of you, to be clear.

Kurt: It's going to be very awkward if you weren't smiling because of me now 

Blaine laughs, ignoring Elliott's pointed cough. 

Blaine: Don't worry.

Blaine: It was definitely because of you

[drdemonprince]

Related to your Instagram story about support group for ‘high functioning’/low support needs autistics, I’m really frustrated because my local adult autism support group specifies that it’s for people without learning disabilities only and I asked why it was so exclusive and they said it was the condition for getting it funded by the local council (I’m in the uk) because they were ‘already funding too many learning disability groups’. I don’t think I can do much to combat this because it’s a decision made a lot higher up than me but it’s really frustrating because I really want to be in community with all kinds of different autistic people and I think people should be able to decide for themselves if the group is relevant to them. I also help run the disability society at my uni but obviously that selects for the sorts of disabled people who manage to go to uni. I would classify myself as having low support needs rn but it’s changed a lot since I was younger and I still struggle a lot in ways where I don’t always relate to other autistics at uni, a lot of whom are late diagnosed and struggle a lot with unmasking. I’ve never really been able to hide my autism and I was diagnosed quite young so I often feel a bit alone. I don’t know if you have any advice/comments to this, but I really wish there was more inclusive community with all kinds of different autistic people with different needs because I think we need to have that solidarity. -S

I'm so sorry to hear that is happening, that really fucking sucks. I agree that you will benefit a lot from being in community with a wide swathe of types of Autistic people, as all of us can -- and your experience points to how limiting and oversimplified "support needs" labels really are. Though the term may have a more pleasant connotation than functioning labels, it still flattens the Autistic experience to the point of being nearly useless. Many people who are nonverbal are relatively low in support needs; some people who can mask have high support needs, and many of us fluctuate depending on the day or where we are in life.

I think you may want to look outside of formal institutional channels. Nonprofits and government agencies will approach Autism inclusion in a very dehumanizing bureaucratic way. What you need I think is a community space made by us, and for us. Look up any local ASAN chapters in your area-- and since you're in the UK, look up Neurodiverse Self Advocacy UK as well. Selfadvocacygroups.co.uk is another place to turn. See if you can find local groups run by these organizations, and try hopping onto sites like Meetup and even Facebook to see if there are ongoing Autistic social groups happening as well. there is almost certainly something. Eventbrite also has a lot of virtual community events these days, oddly.

I know that it's a big ask to tell you to create your own groups, but after you've gotten the lay of the land in your area and gotten to meet a few people, consider organizing small hang outs for people in the community -- movie watching parties, outings to accessible spaces, attending a parade or festival together, something like that. We take care of one another, and community is a thing we build, one relationship at a time -- it's not a thing we can trust powerful institutions to give us or grant us.

Thanks for your message.

[orassian]

/ FOREIGN SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED / / ATTEMPTING REMOTE SHUTDOWN PROTOCOL / / PROGRESS: ▓░░░░░░░░░ / / PROGRESS: ▓▓▓░░░░░░░ / / PROGRESS: ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓░░░ / / REMOTE SHUTDOWN FAILED: ERROR CODE SSE-RO/0 / / ORIGIN OF TRANSMISSION NOT FOUND / / SHUTTING DOWN CENTRAL PSI-VISION NETWORKS / / HOMING ONTO THE INCOMING TRANSMISSION /

Greetings, Orassian nation. It appears we have stumbled on some attempts to resist our scheduled newscast. Luckily, we have good people and allies working on countermeasures. And, unfortunately, not all of us will hear our message today, as no doubt the Matriarchy would've already shut down all psi-vision networks in highly populated areas to avoid the fiasco they can't tell you about.

But, more on that later. Let us turn on the visual feed.

/ ENABLING CATCH PROTOCOLS FOR VISUAL FEED /

That's much better. Good evening, once again, on 'People's News Republic', an independent news agency whose mission is to bring you unbiased coverage and deep-dives into the authoritarianism and lies propagated by the regular state media. I'm your hostess, Erhrdra D'Kara, also the HEO of the agency.

So, our today's story is regarding the previous transmission and the impact it had on the urban population centres. The nation has heard us loud and clear: and, oh dear, they've taken action.

Caption - Protests in capital city of Atêraghr are in full swing: citizens demand investigation into the Matron Council. Claims of government-sanctioned cloning are ignored.

With the protests underway, it's no secret that cloning in the Orassian space is illegal and is a felony. Our agency's stance on such matters is clear: this practice should be fully legalised and all ethical concerns related to cloning properly addressed by competent experts.

The Matriarchy's record relating to it hasn't been totally clean, however. At first, as shocking as it sounds, the first generations of Orassian clones were forcefully corralled and subsequently murdered by the Matron Council under false pretenses that these Orassians were "less pure". They were still people, and another victims of the Matriarchy's authoritarian enforcement machine.

What is concerning however is that the protesters stressed their woes about the the fact that the current government used cloning in general, rather than the Matriarchy's breaches of sapient rights by suppressing free will of clones.

As a news organisation, we take a stance in support of rights of clones and against any notion that they do not deserve all freedoms and protections that they do. The fact that the current government does not recognise it is deplorable and warrants condemnation.

As a bonus piece of news, local partisans in rural regions of Prophet's Promise and other colonies are currently being armed by private foreign groups. Though, by which I'm not at current liberty to say.

What I can say publicly is the current mood of those who are directly receiving the aid. From what the anonymous partisans themselves told us, "they've been the most helpful people one could have" and "the best buddies to get a drink with". That is a direct quote.

And, for tonight, I believe this is all. More coverage about the history of cloning and legislature of SOUL federation to regulate it is coming this weekend.

This has been 'People's News Republic'. Truth to the people. May it guide us away from the darkness towards the light.

/ TRANSMISSION END /

[happiestplacehq]

FESTIVE FEAST EVENT

It is no surprise that the people of Redwood Hollow love a good party, but as the festive season rolls in, it seems the Community Events Committee are making things a little more formal for their winter celebrations.

The people of Redwood Hollow are cordially invited to a town-wide feast. What better way to beat the winter blues than with a full belly and a full heart? Local businesses and caterers have been kind enough to offer a reduced rate on meals, and town's folk have volunteered their own cooking skills to put food on the tables too. The main celebration will take place within Town Hall, with seats reserved at the top tables for our most valued members of Redwood Hollow, including The Mayor and his Council, the founding families and lucrative sponsors including the illusive Mr. Borovsky, who has made recent investments in the town's local economy. The tables will spill out into Town Square, with heated marquees and fires to gather round and roast your chestnuts on.

While tickets are required to be purchased in advance, part of the price will go toward various local charities.

Our Festive Feast will take place on December 8th, with dinner commencing at 6 O'clock. Live entertainment will follow from 8:30pm, with a night ending with a Holiday Lights switch on and fireworks display.

                                                ——————

An OOC information post will be made shortly with OOC details for players, and will be linked in the source once posted. This event will take place between Friday 8th December and Sunday 7th of January OOC to give everyone a chance to take part during the festive period. In character, this event will have taken place on December 8th.

This event will be a kick off for the next phase of our plot. All players who have volunteered to be involved will be messaged shortly. If you would like to volunteer your character for any plot drop related business at the event, reply with their name!

Please like this post once you have read it.

[beardedmrbean]

FIRST ON FOX: A pro-life pregnancy center in Ohio was attacked by the radical pro-choice group "Jane’s Revenge," which tagged the building with messages to "fund abortion" and "abort God."

HerChoice, a pro-life pregnancy center in Bowling Green, Ohio, was attacked by "Jane’s Revenge" and hit with anti-Christian and pro-choice graffiti.

HerChoice, also known as the Bowling Green Pregnancy Center (BGPC), provides free pregnancy and STI testing, ultrasounds, parenting classes, as well as supplies for infants and toddlers.

DOJ CHARGES TWO MORE PEOPLE FOR ATTACKS AGAINST FLORIDA PRO-LIFE PREGNANCY CENTER

The center, along with the other over 100 pregnancy centers across the Buckeye State, provide $15 million worth of services to families in need.

Ohio Right to Life CEO Peter Range told Fox News Digital the people "who work at the BGPC are some of the kindest, loving and caring individuals you could ever meet."

"Knowing these individuals personally, this attack on their center will only strengthen their resolve to continue to love those in need," Range said. "A huge thank you should be given to the local Knights of Columbus council and the college students who came out to help the cleanup process immediately upon seeing the vandalism."

"They represent the Bowling Green community at its finest. In the broader context, though, there has been well over 100 attacks against pro-life pregnancy centers and pro-life organizations since last year," he continued. "Everyone in this state and nation, no matter their political affiliation or stance on abortion, should support centers and organizations that help mothers."

Range said he prays "local officials, statewide elected members and national leaders will all rise to the moment and speak out against these attacks to put an end to these senseless attacks once and for all."

The graffiti on the pregnancy center read "liars," "fake clinic," "fund abortion" and "abort God."

Additionally, the group signed its name – the calling card left behind on the other attacks linked to "Jane’s Revenge."

Last month, the Justice Department charged two more people for carrying out a targeted attack on a pro-life pregnancy center in Winter Haven, Florida.

The DOJ announced that a federal grand jury returned an indictment against Gabriella Oropesa and Annarella Rivera for engaging in a conspiracy to prevent employees of reproductive health services facilities from providing those services, along with co-conspirators Caleb Freestone, 27, and Amber Smith-Stewart, 23, whom DOJ charged in January.

The crew allegedly targeted a pro-life pregnancy center and vandalized those facilities with spray-painted threats, including, "If abortions aren’t safe than [sic] neither are you," "YOUR TIME IS UP!!," "WE’RE COMING for U," and "We are everywhere," on the building.

Those messages are consistent with those that the far-left group, Jane’s Revenge, took credit for leaving spray-painted on pro-life centers after vandalizing dozens of them following the leaked Supreme Court decision in the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization case that eventually led to the overturning of Roe v. Wade last summer.

DOJ said similar facilities in Hollywood and Hialeah, Florida, were also allegedly targeted.

[enkisstories]

Mutiny on the Steadfast (Ch. 1)

After the battle of Exegol, things are looking good for the Resistance as a whole, but less so for the individual rebels Poe, Finn and Rose, who got captured by the First Order.

To keep the prisoners on their toes and eventually break them, Chief Intelligence Officer Kandia puts them into a cell with the traitor Hux. But she has underestimated both the rebels’ ability to make allies and how far the former General is willing to go to spite anyone who wronged him.

The proud Steadfast being little more than a floating junkyard after Exegol isn’t exactly helping the crew's mood, either. The seed of discontent keeps growing...

(This starts on the same premise as my previous The Wrecking of the Steadfast, but will play out differently. Expect a few faces from the other fic to make a return, though.)

CHAPTER 1: The Stray

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot…

That was how this was going, on principle anyway. In practice the sequence became “searing pain, right foot, searing pain, right foot”. Their prisoner’s visible discomfort didn’t deter the stormtrooper trio from expeditiously marching him down a floor somewhere on the Steadfast’s administration level, where the First Order High Court resided. The capital ship was, after all, the heart of the nomadic First Order, that hadn’t named a planet or space station their seat of government. It had to be said, though, that for all practical purposes this mobile capital was a health and safety hazard at the moment.

Right foot, searing pain, right foot, searing pain, right foot, I should have gotten used to this by now, right foot, but I haven’t, right foot, I hate every last one of you, right foot…

The mind that was thinking those thoughts was housed by a brain in a skull topped with an unruly orange thatch and adorned by a stubble. Even before all other considerations, his current appearance wasn’t doing Armitage Hux’ mood any favors. After several days of captivity he was looking like a thug that the local law enforcement had captured, not like last sane person in the First Order, who had taken it onto himself to cleanse the organization from the Sith disease. Not as clumsy as late Domaric Quinn had tried to do it, of course (the idiot had questioned Kylo Ren during a council session of High Command), but with patience, meticulously planned and executed flawless… near flawlessly. Over the course of a year, Hux had leaked confidential information to the Resistance, bits and pieces carefully curated to ensure Ren’s downfall, while keeping the First Order as a whole as intact as possible. That hadn’t been an easy feat, and for that reason his treason now counted as one of the most satisfying projects he had ever undertaken in the former General’s memory.

The downside of being a mole, though? After compiling everything about your organization that you wanted to relay to the enemy, in case you got found out, your own folks would want you to state everything you revealed to the others to them now, too. To this end the troopers were taking Hux to interrogation like so many times before.

Should have made two copies of each message in the first place, one for either side, Hux thought in a fit of gallows humor.

Right foot, searing pain, right foot, hiss, cuss and right foot again…

Watching his booted feet hit the floor in always the same rhythm, Hux wondered for how long he was looking down already. He had lowered his head only to check on his injured leg, to see whether there was blood oozing into the bandage. But now he was walking for who knew how many steps already with his gaze cast down like an intimidated commoner!

Right foot, searing pain… Ouch, dammit!

There were no bloodstains on the bandage, the prisoner’s torn trousers or the pristine black floor. Wait a moment! If he could see all this…? All of a sudden Hux became fully aware of the fact that unlike all the other times the troopers had taken him interrogation, today he wasn’t blindfolded. And that in turn meant that it didn’t matter anymore what the prisoner saw or didn’t see, because he wasn’t expected to make the return trip! Armitage Hux was going to get executed by whatever means whoever was in command of this floating ruin had decided on. He’d die like he had lived: a weakling, a failure, ridiculed and humiliated. Only this time he wouldn’t be able to get even with his abusers afterwards.

In retrospect there had also been moments when Hux had been on the initiative: Who had finished the New Republic? Who had ensured Kylo Ren’s downfall? Who had…

Never mind. His victories would be forgotten.

Of course Hux could tell himself now that he’d show them how an imperial scion knew to die, but truth was, they’d make it so that he wouldn’t be able to look good in any way, shape or form. His end would be on their terms, not his.

Theirs… His First Order. When had it become “them”?

Suddenly the lights went out. Had the sparsely lit floor seemed dark, now the humans got reminded of what actual pitch black darkness was. The stormtroopers switched their helmets to nightvision and at the same time went into alert mode, as if unseen intruders had sabotaged the floor’s lighting, when in truth the lights had failed same as so many other systems tended to fail in the aftermath of the battle of Exegol.

“Squad?” Hux raised his voice. “Here’s my final order to you: FIRE AT WILL!”

And with these words he dashed forwards. The startled stormtroopers fired and would have hit the running target, only in the split seconds their energy bolts needed to travel, the “running” target had changed into a “falling” one and the shots went harmlessly over Hux’ head. He rolled to the side, found himself in a narrow floor that joined the main one here and scrambled back to his feet.

His heart was racing and since any direction was as good as the other now, he ran deeper into the side floor, muttering: “That blasted survival instinct!”. The idea had been to go out on his own terms, but now that he had escaped the initial volley of blaster fire, the escapee couldn’t bring himself to reveal where he’d gotten to.

On both sides of the floor doors were opening and closing erratically. Their hissing made Hux feel as if he was running through a menagerie, the giant snake creatures exhibit, to be specific.

SMACK!

The thing Hux had inadvertently run into very definitely was not a snake, it was not even alive in the traditional sense, but mobile and astute. Made of metal and plasteel, it was a protocol droid, one of the many units in use on this level for bureaucratic work and assistance in interrogations. Yellow eyes glowing in the darkness partially illuminated the grey droid chassis. They bore into the stranger, and him stumbling back already ticked “individual potentially not cleared to roam free in this section” on the droid’s internal checklist.

“Prisoner on the loose!” the droid concluded, when it additionally sensed the cuffs that were still binding Hux’ wrists together and for good measure it connected to them wirelessly, resulting in a sharp jolt to the prisoner. But of course… Wireless communication between two devices, aka the number one most unreliable tech in the whole galaxy – and he, Armitage Hux, had to find himself at the receiving end of it the one time that it actually worked.

Accompanied by a staunch “Back in there!”, Hux found himself get shoved into the closest cell. The droid seemed to assume that the power failure had unsealed that one’s door. Come to think of it, that wasn’t the worst turn this escape could have taken! Nothing like a sturdy door between Hux and his pursuers, especially with the troopers being none the wiser where he had ended up.

*

The prisoner had barely set a foot into the cell, when he already bumped against a barrier. It turned out to be a grate separating the two square meter space he was in from the actual cell. After the near-collision, Hux’ foot met something soft on the floor. The tiny space was already occupied, but the occupant had missed their opportunity to escape on account of being sound asleep.

Hux grabbed the bars in front of him with both hands to steady himself, then kicked the sleeper awake with his good leg.

“Huh…?”

A male voice, and a vaguely familiar one, too.

Hux quickly put his foot onto the man and said: “There’s not enough space in here for even one of us to take a nap. Get up!”

There was a rustle and movement and all of a sudden the universe had re-arranged itself into Hux getting pinned against the wall by the other man with him being none the wiser how exactly that had happened.

“What are you?” Hux gasped. “A full blown Jedi?”

He cursed himself for having jumped to conclusions too quickly. His assumption had went: It’s in a holding cell = it’s a captured rebel and therefore a temporary ally. But with reflexes and strength like his opponent’s, that one could just as well be a stormtrooper in detention for some minor misconduct.

“Well on my way there”, the other replied and this additional information in combination with the voice finally allowed Hux to identify this person as Finn. So in a way he had been correct on all fronts, the other being a rebel, a former stormtrooper and rumored to be force sensitive.

“Sorry for barging in here like this”, he said, despite being anything but sorry. “The guard droid thought I was you.”

Finn didn’t loosen his grip on the intruder. “You. Always complicating things”, he snarled.

“Says Mister “I can’t tell an arm from a leg”!”

Finn studied his opponent as closely as was possible in the almost complete darkness. The stubble, the bruises and the torn, unwashed clothes confirmed his first impression: That the General was a prisoner same as himself. There was no keycard or code cylinder to take from this one.

“What would happen if I called the guards?” Finn prodded.

“You’d probably get in trouble one way or the other, regardless of having done them a favor.”

“And in what way would you get into trouble?”

“Don’t call the guards, Finn”, Hux replied as composed as possible. “I’m done for, all I still want is to go out on my own terms. In fact, since you are already holding me, would you mind ramming my head against those bars to your left?”

Finn laughed.

“Huuux, your first instinct upon entering was to establish dominance over your cellmate! I get it, officer’s honor and all, but your actions speak a different language. You would resist. And when you’re weak enough not to bite and kick me trying to fulfill your “request”, I’ll be too weak to lift my own head, let alone yours. Face it, you want to live. Everyone does.”

“I…”

“See? Your favorite word! – Alright, General, I’ll slowly release you now. Try not to do anything too stupid.”

Hux kept standing with his back against the cell wall.

“I can’t”, he moaned. “I can’t let them recapture me!”

With a shrug, Finn slid down on his side of the tiny room. They could both sit in here, but not stretch out their legs, let alone curl up to sleep.

After a while Hux joined Finn on the floor, repeating his: “I just can’t!” followed by a hiss when he pulled his legs towards his body. No further sound escaped the man’s mouth, only his fingers clawed into his trousers and he inhaled sharply.

Never in his career as a stormtrooper had Finn expected to sit shoulder to shoulder with his General. And never in his time with the Resistance had he expected to sit shoulder to shoulder with the enemy General! But their incompatible worldviews aside, nobody who had it found in himself to defy the First Order, that had been his family up to this point, could NOT feel empathy with a fellow being that was in pain or distress. Even if that one was an enemy and responsible for atrocities of almost unfathomable magnitude. And so Finn decided to share something with his fellow captive:

“And you definitely want to live in this best of all timelines!”

“Best…? What are you talking about?” Hux wondered, reflexively turning his head towards the other. “Except… you DID defeat Kylo Ren?”

“Rey killed him on the water moon of Endor”, Finn confirmed, wisely keeping the rest of the story to himself.

Hux relaxed noticeably, almost leaning on Finn in the process.

“What else?” he asked.

“The First Order was defeated, too, utterly crushed, actually. This here is their very last ship, driven to the unknown regions of the galaxy and commanded by a skeleton crew of totally overwhelmed junior officers, because most everyone else has deserted. The ship is so battered that it is barely able to maintain an orbit over a barren world. Meanwhile back home the New Republic prospers. They keep us imprisoned out of spite in the face of all of this!”

“None of this is true. I mean, I give you the hapless junior officers, I had the displeasure of meeting an especially enervating specimen just this morning, and the Steadfast is somewhat less than fully operational, but the rest? At the very least Pryde is still alive. The Resistance, although in a better spot than it was before I started feeding you intel, is far from winning this war!”

“But I just told you”, Finn replied, winking.

“Can you prove it? Well?”

“Can you disprove my words?”

“Ey?”

“See”, Finn eventually relented, “In the absence of contact with the outside world, my truth is as valid as yours. If I was you, I’d choose my version of reality.”

Hux upgraded from his “Ey?” to a “What?”, still none the wiser.

“My head used to be full of your propaganda”, Finn explained. “Now it is filled with my own propaganda. It’s a mental construct, to stay sane in here. It works as often as it doesn’t.”

“Oh. Interesting. And that isn’t just a Jedi-thing you’re doing there?”

“Maybe it is, I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“What’s Dameron’s place in your reality?” Hux asked.

There was a drawn out silence before Finn answered: “Not included. I can’t lie to myself that well to picture him well, when I know for a fact that he isn’t.” Finn leaned forward and put his chin on his knees. In a muffled voice he added: “What a fine boyfriend I am, unable to daydream my partner happy…”

Suddenly Finn felt an arm slide across his neck and the next moment a hand was squeezing his right shoulder encouragingly.

“Don’t beat yourself up for that”, Hux said. “You’re the only one who remained loyal to me. My… knight?” The arm got retracted and Hux made a disparaging sound. “No, that method’s not working for me. I never… I mean, I always…”

I perfected trackerless hyperspace tracking after it was in development since pretty much the days of the Old Republic, with nobody else seeing how easily everything fit together. I built a better Death Star. The formations I invented reliably score the First Order fleets victories, as does the tactical network software I programmed. There’s a reason I was the youngest officer to make General, yet the elders deem me unfit for the position because they heard me misspeak like ONCE on the command bridge. By now they should have noticed that everyone who displeases me vanishes from the command chain, but, no, they’re too stupid to learn their lesson, yet have the nerves to call ME weak. I cannot lie to myself. I know my worth. The First Order is MY empire in all but the title!

And yet, despite knowing all of this by heart, there was that other voice, and it said…

HISSSSSSSS.

Wait, what? Oh, right. That was the door, not some inner voice. Finn with his metaphysical crap has already confused me to this degree, Hux thought.

The door opened and in the dim light of the restored floor lamps now stood the protocol droid Hux already knew, accompanied by Chief Intelligence Officer Tishra Kandia.

“I’m well aware you’re a people person, prisoner”, she addressed Finn, “but I’ll have you know that getting yourself a roommate still goes against the idea of solitary confinement.”

She then looked at Hux, what caused the droid to start chattering. Kandia waved her hand about at the droids’ longwinded apologies and explanation regarding the wrongly sorted prisoner, but all that did was to cause the droid to start over from a different angle.

“Shut the fuck up!” Hux shouted.

“How rude!”

“What do you expect from rebel-scum”, the former General muttered, both annoyed and intensely proud of himself. Even now nothing on this ship was working without him!

“Maybe you could tell the story to Ma’m Kandia in your own words to…”

“Shut the Kriff up!” Kandia barked at the droid only slightly less impolitely than the prisoner.

“Well, that’s new”, Hux snarked. “Those recent days you could not listen long enough to me gush about how I played you all for fools for the better part of a year.”

“And still have trouble believing any of that happened”, Kandia replied in a subdued voice. “You always were that model of a proper officer…” She stopped, considered and went on: “…provided we didn’t want you to engage with actual rebels, that is. What in a war against the rebel rabble is hard to avoid.”

“Can we stop…” Hux labored to get up, using the bars in his back to support him. “…with the trash talk and you shoot me? During a failed escape attempt?”

Kandia grabbed the prisoner by his upper arm and pulled him out of the cell, only to toss him into the arms of a waiting stormtrooper duo. In the brief moment his ear passed her mouth, she whispered: “Would’ve.” That didn’t exactly inspire confidence in the prisoner. Kandia admitting that she’d mercy killed her former superior, if all the First Order had wanted was to execute him, indicated that exactly that wasn’t the plan anymore. The plan had changed, there was still a use the First Order wanted to put the mole to, and that use most likely was connected to his accidental cellmate in some way.

After the first trooper had firmly secured Hux, the other entered the cell, handcuffed Finn and grabbed him equally tightly. They got marched off together, deeper into the cell block, towards an uncertain fate.

*

“We got upgraded to emperor class”, Finn joked, when the duo looked around their new cell.

Two bunkbeds were built into each of the opposing walls, with just enough space in between that a third, freestanding one, could have fitted seamlessly. Each of the bunks featured its own lamp and two narrow shelves to store personal possessions. At the right bed’s foot end a locker stood and opposite that one a door led to a separate refresher that granted the user privacy from their cellmates, albeit not from the ubiquitous surveillance sensors. Growing up, at times Finn had lived in dorms like this, maybe with an added table and two chairs, when he had been in a penal squad for this or that reason. His joke hadn’t been that far off the mark – these weren’t standard prisoner accommodations.

“They want to see what we’ll do, so they need to give us space to do something in”, Hux ventured a guess. “There may be “toys”, too… objects to interact with.”

Finn nodded.

“Can we agree to not let happen whatever it is that they expect to happen?”

“I…”

The door opened again and two more captives got tossed into the room, causing Hux to stagger deeper into the cell. He grabbed a rung in the ladder of the right bunk bed to steady himself, refusing to sit down as long Finn wasn’t doing so, too.

Meanwhile Finn had caught one of the newcomers, a human male shorter than himself, a little weaker, too, but equally enduring and with even better trained reflexes than the former stormtrooper. At the moment none of those qualities were showing, the man was disoriented and moving sluggishly. He could stand on his own only if he concentrated on keeping the balance.

“Poe!” Finn exclaimed, only to furrow his brows when the other didn’t immediately react to getting talked to. Poe stood there a little lost on his bare feet and only wearing a set of underwear. He was shivering, overtly from being cold, but on second glance his eyes were not fully focused, so something else had to be adversely affecting him.

With her back to the door, scanning the room with her eyes, stood Rose Tico. Her clothes were in disarray, her right cheek swollen and a blueish-black ring circled her right eye.

When Finn and Rose made no attempt to do anything useful, but only stared at each other, processing emotions of various kinds, Hux sighed, moved right between them and vanished into the refresher unit. He returned with a yellow mug in his hand, that he pressed at Poe Dameron’s lips.

“Wish it was rat poison”, he hissed.

Poe’s lips were thoroughly glued together from lack of water. Hux titled the mug a little and what didn’t spill finally served to moisten the skin enough for Poe’s lips to part. At this point the man’s senses seemed to have registered “Water!” and he instinctively took a gulp. Only then did he notice who exactly was holding the mug. Poe was standing in Finn’s arms, with Rose’s hand holding his, but the third person in the equation was most definitely nobody whom he’d wanted this close to himself.

“I’m hallucinating”, the prisoner concluded.

Finn stepped around his partner and looked him into the eyes.

“No, you are not!”

“And now I’m hallucinating my Finn…” Poe said in a sad voice.

When Finn reached out to caress Poe’s face, the other sidestepped and was now standing on shaky legs between the bunkbeds. His stance betrayed that he was ready to flee even farther, to the point of merging with the wall at the end of the cell, in order to not have to touch the “hallucination”. As long as Poe had no proof that the illusion was insubstantial, he could still make believe it was real!

“Birds of a feather, you two”, Hux grumbled. He stepped up to the shivering pilot, grabbed him and barked: “If I was a hallucination, I’d be controlled by whatever you’re using instead of a brain and replied something Dameron-like! But I didn’t, so what am I?”

“Rat… posion…”

“Argh, it’s of no use. He got drugged and needs to sleep it off.”

Hux pushed Poe, with the intent to park him in the closest bunk, but Finn took over again. With Rose’s help, he lifted the pilot into the upper bed, closer to an imaginary “sky”, claiming that Poe would want to “fly”.

“But of course…” Hux said with a sneer, while securing the lower bunk on the opposite cell wall. On principle he’d very much preferred the upper bunk, too, but his leg wasn’t favor of that.

Finn placed his shoes next to the bunk below Poe’s, then climbed up to sit next to his partner. Now that he could relax, Poe’s shivering hadn’t ceased, but in fact intensified, as one by one his muscles realized that he was protected by his friends now.

“Looks like we’ll be sharing, then”, Hux said to Rose, “to make this wonderful class reunion complete.”

“Good, uh, undefined point of the day- and night cycle”, Rose replied.

Eventually everyone had settled in. Finn had volunteered to take the first watch, Rose was lying on her left side, fervently trying to sleep, resulting in her growing less sleepy by the minute, and Hux was relaxing his leg, determined not to sleep in this room full of enemies. Was it even night already? Hux couldn’t tell. His aching body told him that he’d been awake for “too long”, but seeing that he was spending his days getting roughed up by Commander Kandia’s interrogation team, even (or especially) when he cooperated, the actual time that had passed might have been a lot shorter than the perceived one. Ironically it was Poe, who slowly drifted into restful sleep. It had been days since the man had slept in an actual bed, maybe also days since he’d slept naturally. He smiled in his half-awake state, snuggled up under the coarse bedsheet that slowly warmed him up. Not that Poe Dameron had much reason to smile, with the war still going on, him and his friends being captured and living for another day meaning another chance to break them for their enemies. But sometimes all one wanted was to drool into a pillow, with a (comparatively) soft mattress below oneself. Both had gotten provided in the most accidental way imaginable.

Full story: link

[ausetkmt]

Haiti's top gang leader threatens politicians as fires break out in capital

PORT-AU-PRINCE, March 14 (Reuters) - A powerful gang leader in Haiti has issued a threatening message aimed at political leaders who would participate in a planned transition council, as fires broke out amid a fresh surge of violence in the Caribbean nation's capital.

Nearby countries bolstered their border security and withdrew staff from embassies while plans to send a long-awaited international security force remain uncertain.

After unpopular Prime Minister Ariel Henry announced on Monday he would step down once the council was in place, the capital, Port-au-Prince, was initially quieter, but violence appeared to be flaring up again as of late Wednesday, with a shootout in one neighborhood and an attack on the police academy early on Thursday.

A fire broke out at the main penitentiary, emptied of prisoners by armed men earlier this month. Thick black smoke earlier billowed out from the facility, but the fire appeared to be out by Thursday afternoon, when local media showed heavily armed police entering the partially blackened site filled with mounds of trash.

Reuters could not immediately establish if any people had remained in the jail or what sparked the blaze.

A police union said the national police chief Frantz Elbe's house had also been set on fire on Thursday. It did not say whether anyone had been hurt or give details on Elbe's whereabouts.

Haiti is struggling to resolve a long-running political and humanitarian crisis. Heavily armed gangs have taken over much of the capital, and rights groups have reported widespread killings, kidnappings and sexual violence. Hundreds of thousands of people have been displaced.

Henry, who was never elected, had been appointed prime minister by President Jovenel Moise in 2021, shortly before Moise was assassinated. Henry repeatedly postponed elections.

The comments from gang alliance head Jimmy "Barbeque" Cherizier were recorded on Wednesday and distributed via a rambling seven-minute audio message widely shared on Thursday morning on messaging platform WhatsApp.

"Don't you have any shame?" said Cherizier, directing his remarks at politicians who he said were looking to join the council. "You have taken the country where it is today. You have no idea what will happen," he added.

"I'll know if your kids are in Haiti, if your wives are in Haiti ... if your husbands are in Haiti," he said in an apparent threat to their families. "If you're gonna run the country all your family ought to be there."

In his remarks, Cherizier said the resignation of Henry was only "a first step in the battle" for the island nation of around 11 million.

Haiti's government again extended a nightly curfew through Sunday, in an order signed by acting Prime Minister Michel Boisvert. Henry has been stranded abroad since trying to return from a trip to Kenya to secure support for a security mission.

Regional bloc CARICOM has detailed the political parties and other social sectors set to make up the nine-member transition council that will take over from Henry. Negotiations over the council were brokered by Caribbean leaders and U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken, but formal appointments are yet to be made.

On Wednesday, the leader of a party declined an offer of a voting member of the council, backing instead an alternate three-member transition council that would empower former coup leader Guy Philippe, who was recently imprisoned in the United States and is seeking an amnesty for gang leaders.

EMBASSY REDUCTIONS

With Haiti's political future in limbo and the timing of the long-delayed Kenyan-led security mission unclear, the already sparse international presence in Haiti has been further receding.

Canada announced a reduction to its embassy staff that will leave only essential employees in the country, and said the embassy was temporarily closed to the public. That follows similar drawdowns by the United Nations and at the U.S. embassy.

The country's main cargo port said that despite military reinforcements, it would not receive vessels until further notice, as it assesses damages to containers and infrastructure.

Major passenger cruise line Royal Caribbean Group also suspended for a week its regular visits to Labadee, its private resort in northern Haiti.

Fearing a spread of instability in the region, Britain said it was bolstering security in the Turks and Caicos Islands, an overseas territory, as did the governor of the U.S. state of Florida. The Dominican Republic, which shares the island of Hispanolia with Haiti, closed its shared border with Haiti last year and has regularly deported Haitians.

The U.S. southeast coast guard said, "At this time, irregular migration flows through the Caribbean remain low."

Dominican media reported that aviation authorities in a press conference rejected a U.N. statement claiming that an airbridge would be set up from the country to bring humanitarian aid to Haiti, maintaining the airspace would remain closed.

Aid group Mercy Corps said Port-au-Prince residents were being reduced to "forced nomads," seeking refuge from shootings in temporary shelters with family or strangers and battling constant uncertainty, food shortages, trauma, illness and overcrowding.

Marie Love Elucien, 25, who lost her home and shop due to gangs, told Mercy Corps that she was most afraid for her young daughter: "I'm worried she's going to have a fit and become paralyzed because every time she hears the shots she jumps and screams.

"She cries incessantly and no one can touch her; she becomes hysterical and uncontrollable," she said.

More than 360,000 people are internally displaced in Haiti, according to U.N. estimates.

Gina Antoine, a 43-year-old pregnant mother of three, told Mercy Corps that she was exhausted from moving between neighborhoods and could not run anymore.

"We face inhumane situations daily, walking among corpses. Gangs can attack at any moment," she said. "I have nowhere else to go. I wish everything could return to normal."

[bittybug-sunflower-blog]

Chapter summary: After their city is destroyed, Hunter finds Beka, who reveals she left the Jedi Order due to disillusionment and guilt over their relationship. Jetto confronts Beka, leading to a fight where he reveals he's a failed clone of Boba Fett. The group plans to go to Cloud City for a cure for Jetto, while Hunter’s team stays to protect Pabu.

Warning: injuries/blood

Word count: 2737

Rating: 18+

Extra: alternate universe story

…..

Chapter 7

"Our home," Lyana said, tears glistening in her eyes.

"We will rebuild," Shep assured her.

"Mayor, as compensation for the destruction of your city, I will have all buildings rebuilt and ensure credits are donated to those in need of any necessities," Jazzori said, stepping up to the mayor.

"Thank you, Ms. Dalear," Shep said, warmly shaking Jazzori's hand with both of his.

"Please, call me Jazzori; it's the least I can do," Jazzori smiled graciously.

"I think that's the last of the fire, Shep," Hunter remarked as he approached the mayor.

"Thank you, Hunter," Shep smiled warmly. As Shep went to attend to his people, Hunter approached Jazzori.

"Where are the others?" Hunter inquired.

"Jetto is assisting your team with the locals, Valree and the Thif twins are working on clearing rubble, Seneca is with your kid, and Beka is at the beach," Jazzori explained.

Hunter passed the shovel to Jazzori as they headed for the beach, her confusion evident in her gaze. He made his way to the beach and saw Beka. She stood by a pile of stones.

"Beka?" Hunter called out; his voice tinged with concern.

"It only seems fitting he gets a proper burial," Beka replied, her tone somber. "Finis may be a businessman, but he never cheated anyone once. He was an honest man, and his last act was trying to save everyone."

"Can we talk?" Hunter asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Might as well. I already know I must answer questions that I should have been prepared for," Beka sighed heavily, her steps slow as she made her way to a large boulder. She sank down onto it, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of the ocean, a reflection of the turmoil within her.

"Why did you leave the Order?" Hunter dove headfirst into questions, his tone earnest.

"I thought I gave you the answers in my goodbye message," Beka sighed, her voice tinged with resignation.

"Make it make sense," Hunter said, his voice laced with confusion and frustration.

"Our last battle on Saleucami, my Padawan was injured, your team barely survived the Separatist attack. When I was called to the council, I argued how they were willing to let clones just be expendable, even upset that my Padawan was told death was imminent, then I would have to let it happen. I couldn't believe how the Jedi's views of war started to cloud everything. Though not fully to blame, I know letting my emotions for you has caused the failure of our mission in the first place. So, I left," Beka explained, her words heavy with regret and sorrow.

"You left out of guilt?"

"Yes, and because we couldn't be a distraction to each other."

"I would have come with you," Hunter said.

"No, no you wouldn't have. I wouldn't have made you leave your team for me anyway. You would have been miserable," Beka said gently, her hand reaching out to touch Hunter's face, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips.

"When the Republic ended, and Jedi were ordered dead, I thought..." began Hunter, his voice trailing off, filled with the weight of unspoken thoughts and emotions.

"I thought of that about you when I left the council. I'm sorry, Hunter, for... for everything," Beka confessed, her voice tinged with sorrow and regret.

Their words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the challenges they had faced and the sacrifices they had made in the turbulent aftermath of the Republic's fall.

From a distance, Omega stared in confusion at Hunter and Beka, her expression reflecting her perplexity.

"Why is Hunter with Rebekath?" Omega began, her voice tinged with curiosity, seeking to unravel the mystery unfolding before her.

"The two have history," Crosshair said casually, sticking a toothpick in his mouth as he observed the scene unfolding before them.

"History?" Omega echoed; her interest piqued by the mention of something beyond their usual missions.

"Clone Force 99 was first assigned to us for a mission on Nal Hutta," Seneca explained, her tone reflective as she recounted past missions. "We all went on frequent missions after that."

"Different type of history," Crosshair corrected, his tone dry as he removed the toothpick from his mouth. "Those two had a secret relationship, not very secret though."

"Did you know?" Omega asked, her curiosity evident in her tone as she turned to Seneca for answers.

"I suspected. Jedi aren't allowed to have romantic and emotional relationships..." Seneca said, her tone tinged with a hint of resignation as she recalled the unspoken rules of the Jedi Order.

"Wait, wait, Hunter and General Rebekath have a secret relationship?" Echo asked with genuine surprise, his eyes widening in disbelief at the revelation.

"They did. This was before you joined our squad," Tech chimed in, offering additional context to Echo's astonishment.

"She left the Order because of it," Seneca added solemnly, her expression betraying a mix of understanding and regret as she spoke of Beka's departure.

"You don't seem mad about their relationship..." Echo observed, his curiosity evident as he glanced at Seneca, seeking to understand her perspective on the matter.

"It would be hypocritical if I was," Seneca smirked, a wry smile playing on her lips as she acknowledged the complexities of the situation.

Echo raised an eyebrow, silently contemplating Seneca's response and the underlying dynamics at play within their group.

"Seneca, all locals are okay!" Valree called out, relief evident in her voice. "What do we do now?"

"The Empire will come for us," Crosshair stated matter-of-factly, his tone carrying a sense of grim inevitability.

"Not you, her, and Seneca," Jetto interjected as he pointed to Beka in the distance, his words cutting through the tension with blunt honesty. "No offense, but Jedi are far more valuable than rogue clones."

The weight of Jetto's words hung heavily in the air, each member of the group silently grappling with the implications of his statement.

"I have questions about you," Echo stated, his gaze narrowing as he fixed his eyes on Jetto.

Jetto took his helmet off, revealing his face with a sense of resignation. "I'm sure you do."

Hunter and Beka soon joined the others, their presence adding to the tension in the air. "I'd like to know who you are as well," Beka added, her tone measured as she spoke, still holding the shovel in her hand.

"I bet you would," Jetto grumbled under his breath, his demeanor guarded as he braced himself for the inevitable scrutiny.

"Excuse me?" Beka looked at Jetto, confused.

"From what these guys tell me, you were once a great Jedi? The locals wouldn't have almost lost their home if it wasn't for you," Jetto accused, his words sharp with accusation.

"I'm sorry, but what did I do personally to offend you?" Beka asked, her voice tinged with anger as she confronted Jetto's accusation.

"You like to abandon those in need to pursue some petty dream of yours," Jetto continued, his tone accusing and unforgiving. "You're a coward."

Beka didn't respond, her silence a testament to her resolve not to dignify Jetto's accusations with a response. With a determined stride, she turned and walked away, refusing to engage further with his delusions.

"Jetto!" yelled Seneca, her voice echoing with frustration as she called out to him, her concern for Beka evident in her tone.

"No, people don't abandon their friends, especially when there's a war!" Jetto yelled at Beka, his frustration boiling over.

"That's enough," Hunter demanded, his voice firm and commanding.

"She abandoned everyone," Jetto insisted, his tone accusatory.

"You don't know the whole story, do you?" Beka said, her back turned to Jetto, her words carrying a weight of defiance.

"I know enough," Jetto angrily answered, his stance defensive.

"Do you know what it's like fighting in a war?" Beka challenged, her voice tinged with emotion.

"You up and left, how would you know about fighting?" Jetto retorted, getting into a combat stance as tension crackled between them.

"Jetto, don't," Seneca warned, her voice tinged with concern.

Beka turned around, facing Jetto squarely. She held the shovel up, pointing it at him, her stance unwavering as she prepared to defend herself.

"Seriously?" Jetto asked, looking at Beka with disbelief as if her weapon was a mere joke.

Beka hit the shovel on the ground, the spade part breaking off, then raised her makeshift bo-staff defiantly. "Seriously."

With determination etched in his features, Jetto lunged towards Beka, his movements fueled by a mixture of anger and determination. He aimed a series of punches and kicks at Beka, each one delivered with precision, but she moved with a grace that belied her Jedi training, effortlessly evading his onslaught. Beka's staff became an extension of her body as she skillfully parried Jetto's strikes, the sound of metal meeting wood reverberating through the air. But Jetto's attack was relentless, and with a sudden movement, a blade emerged from his arm, glinting menacingly in the light. With a roar of defiance, he swung the sword towards Beka with all his might. Reacting swiftly, Beka raised her staff in a desperate attempt to block the incoming blow, but the force behind Jetto's strike was too great. The impact sent shockwaves through her arms, and she felt the wood of her staff splintering under the force of the blow. With a resounding crack, the staff splintered into two pieces, leaving Beka momentarily defenseless against Jetto's ferocious assault.

"Should we intervene?" Tech began, voicing the group's concern.

"Nah, this is getting good," Wrecker smirked, his excitement evident.

"They shouldn't be fighting!" Omega exclaimed, her worry evident in her voice.

"He started the fight," Wrecker replied, his nonchalant attitude reflecting his perspective on the situation.

"My money's on Beka," Valree chuckled, her confidence in Beka evident in her tone.

"Seriously?" Seneca rolled her eyes, her skepticism clear.

They all watched the fighting unfold, Hunter impressed by Beka's skill and resilience.  With lightning speed, Beka executed a precise leg sweep, catching Jetto off guard and sending him crashing to the ground with a thud. As he lay sprawled on his back, Beka wasted no time, her movements fluid and purposeful as she positioned herself over him. Including unwavering confidence, Beka planted one foot firmly on Jetto's chest, pinning him in place, while the broken remnants of her staff hovered threateningly close to his face. Her gaze bore into his, a mix of determination and defiance shining in her eyes.

"You may not respect me, yet again, you don't know me enough to disrespect me." Beka's voice was steady, her words carrying the weight of her conviction as she extended her hand towards Jetto. "But I would like to have your respect for me earned." For a moment, Jetto hesitated to take her hand, but he saw something there that gave him respect. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and clasped her outstretched hand in his own. "Now, can I ask who you are?" Beka's voice was soft, but beneath the surface lay a quiet strength, a determination to understand the man before her.

As the others gathered around, Jetto sighed. "My name is Jetto Fett. Boba Fett tried to create his own clone. Without proper equipment and proper data, he was unable to make one correctly. Several of his experiments had unstable systems; either they exploded or shut down. Frustrated, he shut down the project. I was found by the bounty hunter Embo. He found me in that test tube. He trained me due to my rapid aging. I was able to adapt, learn, and acquire skills easily, but unfortunately, due to the lack of proper supplications, my body is shutting down..." Jetto began coughing, blood spilling on his hand from his mouth, causing the others to become concerned. "From what I gathered from the scientist who told me before his last breath, it was Boba Fett. Boba Fett was trying to recreate his father."

"What will happen when you find Boba Fett?" asked Valree, curiosity coloring her tone.

"I can find a cure for myself. I may be an experiment, but I'm a breathing living creature," Jetto declared, his voice brimming with determination and resolve.

"Fascinating. I can run some tests and maybe find a cure for your condition," Tech offered, his tone tinged with scientific intrigue as he contemplated the possibility of unraveling the mysteries surrounding Jetto's condition.

"We tried. Kamino is destroyed, so our only option is to figure out where Boba got the stuff to try to make clones," Jetto explained, his tone tinged with frustration and resignation. "His connections either went dead silent or... dead by him."

"I have an idea where Boba Fett might be heading," Valree interjected, her voice laced with determination.

"Where?" inquired Jetto, his curiosity piqued.

"Bespin."

"The Cloud City?" Jetto echoed, his surprise evident in his tone as he considered the implications of Valree's revelation.

"One of his armor pieces had the same designs as one of my daggers, which I got in the Cloud City."

"Then we will head over there," Seneca announced, her voice resolute as she affirmed their course of action.

"Plus, I believe a lot of the remaining Kamino equipment might have been sold to them," Valree added, her words punctuating Seneca's declaration with a note of urgency.

Jazzori, accompanied by the Thif twins, soon joined the group, her presence signaling a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. "I talked with the mayor; everything will be rebuilt, and I have Phee meeting my contact to bring supplies and medical assistance here," Jazzori announced, her smile a beacon of reassurance in the face of adversity.

"Thank you, Jazzori," Beka expressed her gratitude, her voice tinged with appreciation for Jazzori's efforts to aid the beleaguered community.

Jazzori nodded before walking back to the people, with the Thif twins following closely behind, their presence a silent testament to their commitment to rebuilding their shattered community. As the group settled into conversation, Wrecker's curiosity prompted him to address Jetto. "Where did you get your armor from?" he inquired, diverting the conversation's focus.

"Embo took me to Mandalore. They fitted me with armor. They understood I was not asked into this life, moreover, sympathy," Jetto elaborated, his words carrying a weight of gratitude for the Mandalorians' empathy in providing him with protection amidst his tumultuous existence.

Amidst the chatter, the group collectively deliberated their next course of action, each voice contributing to the unfolding discussion.

Beka's gaze fell downward, her expression tinged with a somber resolve. "We can't stay here, especially Seneca and I," she voiced, her concern for their safety evident as she glanced at her old Padawan.

"I agree with Beka," Valree concurred, her tone echoing Beka's sentiments with a note of urgency. "The longer we stay, the more we put these people at risk."

"You all go on ahead," Beka said, her gaze shifting towards Seneca's team, her voice tinged with a mixture of resolve and concern.

"Master, with all due respect, I traveled galaxies to look for you. We're not abandoning you now," Seneca declared, her unwavering loyalty evident in her words as she spoke with conviction.

"It's not abandonment. I can't risk you getting hurt or killed because of me," Beka insisted, her tone firm yet tinged with a hint of sadness at the thought of parting ways with her former apprentice.

"Don't let your fear overcome you; that's what you told me," Seneca reminded her, her smile warm and reassuring as she sought to offer comfort and support to her mentor in their moment of uncertainty.

"Look, it's settled. Beka, you'll come with us. We need your help; another Jedi on our team will even the odds," Valree smirked confidently, her eyes glinting with determination.

"We're a team?" Jetto asked, his tone betraying a hint of skepticism.

"We are now," Jazzori interjected firmly, her voice carrying a sense of unity and purpose. "Hunter, will your team join us?"

"Thank you, but no. We need to protect Pabu in case of another attack," Hunter replied, his tone reflecting his unwavering commitment to safeguarding their vulnerable community.

"Understandable, here." Jazzori extended a communicator to Hunter, a symbol of their alliance and support. "If you need us, don't hesitate," she added, her smile radiating reassurance and solidarity.

In a silent moment, Hunter and Beka's eyes spoke volumes, their souls intertwining in a wordless dance of love and longing, transcending spoken language.

[mediapen]

em your brain is sooooo big and youre so right lets talk about it. as someone from madrid (been here my whole life) trust me when i say that anyone who goes to the british council school here comes out with a very fluent british accent. if you ask a spanish person (esp in madrid) to speak english to you, youll immediately be able to tell if they went to a public/private spanish school (they have the typical spanish accent) or if they went to "el british council" as we call it (which youll have a british accent). so im genuinely interested to know if carlos deliberately chooses to make his accent more spanish in certain situations (its a very easy accent to imitate, hence it renders itself susceptible to very good impressions). i could genuinely write an essay about this i think, just analysing when he chooses to talk in certain ways its just so fascinating

YOU GET IT. kiss. KISS. genuinely thank you for the background - I assumed this based on most people adopting the accent they're taught second languages in but obviously didn't KNOW. and it makes it crazier honestly? like that everyone around him would've dropped the accent?! if he just spoke english as a second language I'd have nothing to say on this whatsoever, but going to a british council school and retaining your native LOCAL (!!!!!) accent in the second language but also being able to modify and drop it like he can? that's insane. like it absolutely indicates to me that it's a choice. also, I do think you can tell he's been educated in english - he has a big vocabulary and speaks really fluidly and easily, but again the heavy accent throws people off. idk it's really interesting.

I also think his default accent in english is the more spanish one - like, his radio messages are sometimes genuinely incomprehensible, and I don't think it's just the poor audio quality - I think the accent sometimes makes it hard to understand on first listen, especially when you don't have context as to what he's talking about. like... when the way he speaks isn't his primary focus, that's probably gonna be the more 'natural' accent.

++ re: impressions - I think he speaks english more slowly than a lot of spanish people, and the madrid accent seems to be less... idk. difficult for a native english speaker to copy? like, for ease of comparison - alonso sounds like he speaks with the front of his mouth. it's very light, he rolls every r but with the tip of his tongue, sounds kinda 'typically' spanish. and they're broadly difficult sounds for a native english speaker to imitate, right? but carlos sounds like he uses his whole mouth. he pronounces more of every word. all of which probably makes copying it easier? idk! obsessed!

[lunarcovehq]

THE SECRET IN THE OLD ATTIC

Lunar Cove's very own Nancy Drew...

It isn't a secret that the Historical Society has been on the hunt for any clue that could reveal what happened back in 1992. But, this week, the Coalition Leader, Ben Anak Bandi, invited local detective and banshee, Eren Öztürk, of Tower Treasure Detective Agency to help aid the Council in a number of interviews. They haven't discovered a clue from the interviewees yet, but a few individuals who have volunteered to help in the interview process are Kui James, JC Carvalho, Lyra Almeido Santos, and Meena Raja. These interviews will be held at Town Hall, but while these interviews are being conducted, Ben put together a small group of volunteers to scour back through the public archives to see if there was anything that might have been initially looked over or missed.

Low and behold, it seems our town has a resident Nancy Drew in our midst. While scouring relentlessly over documents, Selin Yildiz (@moonshincs), realized that the original article that the Historical Society had on file was slightly off from the copies that Catalyst scattered around town last summer. The Catalyst's version of the article happened to have some typos it in which, judging from the Historical Records, were never printed in the original. After circling each word with a typo in it in red ink, Selin realized that the misspelled words made up the phrase "its the Council's fault the mirage fell". But, what exactly could this phrase mean? We now look to the interviews in hope of elaborating.

REMINDERS

For the characters being interviewed: In the OOC discord, a thread will be created where the Council will be calling individuals in one at a time for their interviews to be conducted. When each interviewee enters the room, Eren (played by Pip), will use their banshee abilities to jog your character's past memories pertaining to 1992. That is when your character will receive a clue from the main revealing a piece of information that has been trapped in your character's subconscious up until now.

If you volunteered, but your character isn't mentioned above: We have messaged everyone letting them know which of their characters have been selected for plot drops. So, if your character's name hasn't been mentioned yet and you were selected as a volunteer, stay tune because your own plot drop is coming.

The above discovery is public knowledge, but these plot drops are not mandatory, so if you’d like to react to the above IC in threads you’re more than welcome to, but please don’t feel obligated include in your threads if you’d prefer not to.

The tag for these plot drops are lunarcoveplotdrop3. If you do react to any of the above, we ask you please tag everything under this tag.

This is the second of many plot drops like this throughout the month, so keep an eye out for them. We will be incorporating our volunteers into posts like these throughout the upcoming weeks.

Last, but not least, we hope you have fun!

WINTER WONDERLAND EVENT COMING DEC 14TH