#this image is brought to you by the fellow who said 'those two in the lower left corner seem to be very fond of each other'

[chiropteracupola]

death spiral

[ataraxiaspainting]

Fly Me to the Moon.

Yan Jingliu x F Reader.

Synopsis: “You looked at me like I was made of stardust, and told me that even the moon above us could not compare to the brightness in my eyes.”

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

i’m so sorry if i’m wrong about xianzhou landscapes lol…

*~*~*~*

The Xianzhou Luofu’s eclipses are as rare as someone who can walk on water.

Moons come and go across the Flagships’ skies as they make their way throughout the galaxy, and so do the suns. They all change from pink to red to gray, and none of them stay for long. Unlike what the Abundance teaches its creations, life has its way of teaching that nothing lasts forever. Permanence is but a fantasy and only those who are blind fools seek out such a blasphemous dream.

But if it is a blind fool you must be to see her whole for the first time, you will gladly be one.

You met just a fragment of her oh so long ago, under the very covered sun that was oh so rare. You dared not to look away from her as she moved towards you like clockwork, her sword dragging across flowered ground. The moon was white, and so were the blossoms. So was her hair, which looked like a bundle of shooting stars. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown either. An expression as neutral as water.

She had a black blindfold over her eyes that had the sign of a crescent moon.

To you, she was brighter than the eclipse above.

You two moved together in a circle, a cautious waltz, but also an enticed one. Curiosity.

“You are a Cloud Knight, aren’t you?” She asked. The grip on her blade’s handle loosened just slightly. “I can tell by the spear you hold.”

You nodded, and a chuckle quieter than the gentlest wind escaped her lips.

You took a step backward as she took one forward. It was not out of fear but at the very least well-meant care—a dance crafted from years of training under daylight and starlight.

…

Now, hundreds of moons later, you take a step backward as she now takes three forward. Fear controls you like a puppet as you point your spear, which has by this point been remodeled and repaired from many battles with the Abominations of the Abundance. Daylight and starlight become one with the same snow-white eclipse in the sky.

She is smiling. Her sword no longer glides along sprouted soil, but a stone path painted with the blood of your fellow soldiers. Her blindfold is off, her eyes the very image of a hollow, depraved husk. Mara.

She does not chuckle when your hands shake, but rather she loudly laughs.

It is the farthest thing from gentle.

…

Jingliu has many presences, but none of them last for very long. Some stay for a week at most without issue, but those are rare and so far distanced from one another. She lets you leave, most days, to go buy tea from the market or to go sit down and feed the birds or to let you practice aiming your weapon at the training dummy she placed outside your living quarters. 

When she first brought you here, she told you that you are free to duel her whenever you wish. Win, she said, and you can leave whenever you wish too.

The only thing is you can never manage to even touch her.

The uncharted areas around the cottage she acquired for both of you are dark, and the only places where there is light are the ones that have straight and narrow paths, paths to the few places Jingliu allows you to go unsupervised. Or is the definition of unsupervised in Jingliu’s world is to have you watched from a few kilometers back?

You cannot tell. Nor do you want to know the answer, because you know the truth will stomp on your hope like it was a lowly insect.

You also don’t walk alone at night for reasons like those. You cannot see anything, only hear and think.

You cannot see Jingliu if she is watching you from behind.

Even though she swears on her honor that she does not follow you closely.

You can hear Jingliu’s breathing though, how desperate she can sound, or how calm she can sound. It all depends on what moon shines through the brightest.

…

Meals with Jingliu are always the same.

No matter what her mood is at that particular moment, she always stares at you from across the table.

Sometimes her hair is well-kept, on days when she is happier and more active in her self-care. Sometimes she bats her eyes at you. Sometimes she seems to stare past you, to the unlit fireplace or the vase of flowers near the entrance door. Her stares can turn into glares in an instant, or her glares can turn into loving gazes. You wish most days that she wouldn’t be so distant, but you don’t want her to be suffocating with her affection either.

You just want the best of both worlds. An eclipse.

“How is it?”

Your attention is abruptly captured. Her gaze appears slightly less serene yet intensifies, while yours remains filled with doubt. Your hand ceases the motion of guiding the fork towards your mouth, descending listlessly onto the table.

“Is something the matter, [First]?” Genuine confusion on both of your parts.

“...N-No.” As you lower your gaze and gently shut your eyelids, your whole body quivers uncontrollably, leaving you powerless over its movements. “It’s good.”

“Are you sure?” Your gaze evades her as if being controlled by a small prey animal’s instinct. Your heart races, as if on the verge of a sudden collapse. “You can tell me if something is wrong with the food.”

Your fingers interlock with such force that you fear they might leave imprints on your skin.

“No, no… it’s good, really.”

She tilts her head. “You aren’t eating, though.” You hear the sound of a chair being dragged, a sure sign that she is standing up. “You can be truthful with me, dearest. I won’t be upset.”

Gazing out the window, you offer no response. The sound of her sigh reaches your ears, yet your focus lies elsewhere. A single leaf gracefully twirls upon the surface of the nearby pond, without a care in the world. You hope it will not drown.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

YANDERE ! EREN JAEGER X READER HEADCANNONS

TW/CW: mdni, yandere themes, masturbation.

Have some headcannons while I wait for my henna to dry/watch the first season with my cousin.

I wish there were more who wrote for Canon! Eren. Like don’t get me wrong, Modern AU Eren is hot but I mean, fuckboys can be seen everywhere.

But Canon! Eren is batshit insane and that’s exactly what I love about him. I wish they at least add that to his modern counterpart instead of making him a basic bad boy but I mean if that’s what they’re into 🤷‍♂️

Anyways Exhibit A of why Eren in all eras is my fave AOT character:

Like I said, he’s batshit insane.

He has directly killed 2 people by the age of nine, and assisted in killing the third. Although this is out of self defense it still can’t be denied HOW HE TReateD THE SECOND DUDE HOLY SHIT- THE AMOUNT OF TIMES HE STABBED HIM.

Normal kids would just be terrified, maybe be even fight blinding and/or cry, probably even run tf away. But ya boi brought a knife and even deceived the person at the door.

EXHIBIT B:

He’d be a great yandere.

Let’s say that we age up our cast and make 18 the minimum age of enlistment (making him 21 around the attack of Trost).

Trainee Eren has the will of fucking steel. He’ll do whatever it takes to wipe out titan-kind, to make the cruel world he lived in finally know true peace.

To be with you in that new world he’ll build.

You were one of his fellow trainees. Someone who unconditionally believed and supported his desire to see the outside world. You didn’t treat him like a child as Mikasa did, and you weren’t so oddly distant when it came to his help and presence like Armin.

At first it started as a crush. An infatuation towards your looks and kind demeanor which morphed into a twisted sense of love.

You were the only one that understood him, that resonated with his wavelength.

He definitely frequently masturbated to your image. Stress was a known issue amongst trainees and soldiers alike. Many drank to rid themselves of such a problem. But to him just the thought of you two becoming one gave him relief and pleasure that any form of alcohol could never give. In the aftermath of the Trost incident, when faced with your unconscious, battered body he pulls a Shinji and jerks one off. Covering you with his release.

You think you’ll leave his mind once he gets busy with being a titan-shifter and the future of Eldia and such but nope.

Eren only has you and the new world he promised in his heart, body and soul. And that’ll never change.

EXHIBIT C:

Eren believes in freedom first and foremost.

So none of that kidnapping. At least in earlier years. He just wants you to be happy and safe. He’s more of the type to hurt others for your sake rather than be abusive and take away your rights.

Eren in later seasons has the capacity to keep you isolated, and that he will.

Like in other (unfortunately rare) fics of him, he keeps you in a farm land with a bunch of loyalists. If reader is afab! or has the ability to bear a child (for those with abo ocs or something idk) he’ll tell them that you are bearing his child and the future inheritor of his powers.

Otherwise he’ll come up with other excuses like having you as a tactician or war-hero they have to pay respects to.

He’ll give you as much freedom as he can provide while keeping you away from danger.

Though one might argue that his version of freedom for you is just an illusion.

[phr3ia]

Resonance (Jiyan x Fem!Reader x Calcharo) [Chapter 1 : Drained]

How long has he been awake?

Jiyan wasn't entirely sure. The days had started to blend into one another after the most recent set of battles, with Tacet Discord outbreaks happening more and more frequently. Every day was another day of fighting, of trying his hardest to make sure every one of his fellow Rangers made it through the day and had another day where they might be able to get home.

...Some days though, even his best efforts were for nothing.

This was one of those days.

He fought fiercely, trying to keep the majority of the TD away from his subordinates. But one of them - a brave, foolish soul who had seen an enemy approaching Jiyan's back - had tried to intervene.

Jiyan didn't notice until he'd heard the choked cry behind his back. But when he'd turned back and saw them crumple, eyes blank...he lost his head a bit.

The next thing he was aware of, the TD were gone, and his subordinates were staring at him with a mix of awe and fear. His Tacet Mark was throbbing, and he was dimly aware of the way his entire body shook with an energy he needed to contain.

"Go back to camp." He'd ordered, all of them scrambling at the chance to return to camp, to rest and try to forget the image of Jiyan's rampage that he was sure was imprinted in their eyes. And Jiyan...had stayed in the valley, channeling the excess energy thrumming under his skin into killing even the smallest TD that crossed his path.

Now he was trudging back to his tent - exhausted, heart-sore, and numb. But upon entering his tent, he stilled, eyes immediately locking onto yours sitting on the edge of his bed.

"...Hey.." Jiyan greeted politely, his voice tired but courteous. "What brings you to my quarters?"

"I heard about what happened." you said, your tone was sad yet filled with understanding. Despite your gloomy demeanor, you were keenly aware of the struggles Jiyan faced each day and the toll it was taking on him. Although you had known each other since childhood, the word "best friend" was never explicitly mentioned between the two of you. However, the undeniable bond you shared spoke volumes beyond mere words. Both of you grew up side by side, chasing dreams together. After graduating from the Military Academy a decade ago, you rarely had the chance to see each other, unless under special circumstances.

As Jiyan ascended to the role of General, leading thousands of soldiers under his command, you became the Secretary Of Justice in Huang Long. You administer the government's criminal justice system by investigating crimes, prosecuting offenders and overseeing the correctional system. A position you earned through your undeniable intellect.

Upon noticing your melancholic behavior, Jiyan immediately sensed that something was amiss. He has always known you as a cheerful and carefree woman, who maintains an optimistic outlook on everything. It was unusual for him to see you behaving so strangely, as if you were miserable. However, Jiyan refrained from pressing you for details, knowing that your poorly-lit behavior may be related to your job, Jiyan acknowledged that the workings within the Department of Justice are private matters that he needs to respect.

"It was our first casualty this year, and I- I'm not sure I handled it well..." His voice was heavy, as he slowly came to sit in front ofyou. He could feel his chest tightening, and he looked away. "I don't know if I'm fit to lead them. Losing a soldier under my watch, I felt... I felt like..." He shook his head.

You could see through every barrier, every lie he tried to bury himself within. He didn't try to hide it from you. He brought his hands up, his broad-fingered hands gripping his own Tacet Mark. He closed his eyes, "All I did was wield them as weapons." His breathing sped up, and Jiyan slowly opened his eyes. "I want to do better...for them, for the Rangers..For Huang Long.." His body ached all over, and he welcomed the touch of another's hand on him, a touch that was not healing but comforting. Jiyan needed it, now more than ever.

"Jiyan." you said, gently placing your hand above his. Your previously unhappy demeanor had faded. "The first rule of leadership is to save yourself for the big decision. Don't let your mind get cluttered. I know you're always doing your best for Huang Long. Whatever you do, don't lose yourself in the process. I hope you would care enough for yourself to know that you deserve to receive as much as you give." Your gentle smile reassured Jiyan, conveying a sense of comfort and hope with just that simple gesture.

Jiyan inhaled sharply, closing his eyes, and leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulders. His breathing seemed to steady, his heart slowing, and he whispered, "Thank you, Y/N..."

He wasn't sure how long it took for him to feel the world slowly coming back into focus. But when Jiyan finally pulled back, he was a bit steadier, eyebrow furrowing as he glanced at the map that was folded on his table.

"I know we should call it a day, but...Tacet Discord activity is off the charts...I need to at least examine the map, make sure the strategic points are still secured..." He admitted. "And that we have enough reserve forces to rotate out. My mind won't rest until it's done, and besides..." Jiyan frowned, "I have to appear in control, or else the rest of the Rangers will lose heart. And I need to, I need to manage, I can't-" He stopped, fingers tightening around his hilt. "Just...give me a moment, and then I promise that I'll rest." He didn't want to overwork himself, but it was their lives at stake. He couldn't afford to let them down.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked. Having previously been a member of the Military Defense Team under General Geshu Lin's command, your expertise and experience were invaluable.

Jiyan opened the map and spread it flat on the table. He took in the details, lips pursed in thought, as he mentally compared the map with the TD activity the Resonators had reported. It was a never-ending task, protecting the borders of Huang Long. Jiyan turned back to you, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You could give me your unbiased opinion, like always. Keep me from potentially running myself into the ground."

"You can look over my records, reports, and see if there's any new information on the Tacet Discord's movements, that'd help a lot." He gestured towards the papers on the table. "I don't trust every piece of information at face value. A second set of eyes can't hurt. With that, Jiyan returned to his map, eyes scanning the depiction of Jinzhou and its surroundings. His fingers continued to lightly trace lines in the map, considering different strategies to deal with the outbreaks. Jiyan's carefully constructed calm shattered for a moment when he noticed a freshly marked TD hotspot. "Damn..." He muttered, going back to the reports. Your presence, however, did help, and Jiyan's eyes flickered over to you. He wasn't sure if you would pick up on it, but Jiyan couldn't help the relief of having someone else to share the burden with.

"General. It's important that we pinpoint these areas, especially since the City Guards are stretched too thin as it is." You suggested as you attentively observed the placement of the TD marks on the area. As both of you  analyzed the map, Jiyan found himself relaxing a bit more. He'd always admired your sharp mind, and while you spoke, he found himself absentmindedly staring at you. "So, General, what do you think about my plan?" you abruptly asked, shifting your gaze towards him, which snapped him out of his trance.. Jiyan's cheeks warmed in embarrassment and he hastily looked away. He glanced back at the map, a frown creasing his features. "That's a solid plan. We need to move the Rearguard into sectors with the highest Tacet Discords. Some soldiers seems to have reported multiple sightings of TD moving in a particular formation, I want to explore that." Jiyan's voice trailed off in thought as he watched your expressions. "Though it'll be chaotic, but we can make a dent into some of these hotspots...There are some reinforcements camped out a bit south-east. I'll have to consider rotating these additional soldiers in...and perhaps get some fresh supplies to the current Rangers." Jiyan stretched his arms, eyes squinting a bit. "Once we do that, and the replacements are settled in, I think I'll be able to relax." It was said lightly, but Jiyan was acutely aware of how heavy his eyelids were. He glanced back at you, his eyes softened appreciatively. "Your input has helped ease the weight. I'm grateful for it, truly."

"Ha! Admit it, I'm better than you." you teased with a smirk, your arms crossed over your chest as you chuckled.

"Not a chance." The General replied with a light laugh, shaking his head in disagreement.

Jiyan stood, stretching his back to alleviate some of the muscle pains that had settled after his recent battle. He'd need the sleep, but he grabbed a small box from his desk, rummaged through it, drawing a tea bag to the table. "Tea?"

"Absolutely." You replied with a warm smile.

And the rest of the night was filled with conversations that brought smiles to your faces.

[2 hours later...]

"Thank you, General. I had fun!" With midnight approaching, you knew that Jiyan needed to rest.

"Hey, would you mind if I visit you in Jinzhou the day after tomorrow?" Jiyan inquired, hoping for you to say yes. It had been a while since he had a normal conversation with you, and he honestly missed those times when he could just be himself. Not as a soldier, not as a general, but simply as Jiyan.

"Of course." You both value and respect each other's work schedules. You and Jiyan acknowledged that both of you couldn't spend as much time together as you used to when you were younger.

"Anyway, I should head off. It's getting late, and you can't hide that tired look of yours anymore." you chuckled, pinching the General's cheek. "Hey, cut it out!" he playfully pushed your hand away, feeling a twinge of embarrassment that you still teased him like the short and shy boy he once was.

In return, Jiyan tousled your hair as he wrapped his arm around your neck, restraining your movements.

"Alright! Alright! You win!" you surrendered, dropping your arms in defeat. Jiyan was now too tall for you to reach. "What's that?" Jiyan teased. He seldom heard you admit defeat, so hearing you say this was like music to his ears. You couldn't help but just roll your eyes at him as you freed yourself from his arm.

"Would you like me to accompany you back to Jinzhou?" He was concerned about you returning late at night with only a few soldiers escorting you.

"No need. I can take care of myself." you replied confidently. There was no need for you to prove yourself, as you were also known for mastering the element of fusion and handling it like a crazy maniac. However, at times, your overconfidence can lead to distractions, which is one of your downfalls.

"Oy, you keep forgetting the huge gap in our strength. You can't rely on going into a rampage to defend yourself. It's not the best approach." Jiyan remarked, aware of your occasional recklessness.

"Whatever you say, General." you sighed, rising from your seat. "Stubborn as always." Jiyan mumbled quietly as he escorted you out of his quarters.

"Goodnight, General." you bid farewell as you closed the door behind you. "Until then, Madam Secretary." Jiyan headed back to his bed, the slow exhaustion catching up with him. His armor had been stripped to reveal his elegantly toned body, sleek and unfaltering. He'd need to rest, he'd need to heal, just a bit more. He started to undress, shelving his armor. Jiyan laid down, the weight of the day finally catching up with him, and the soft snores filled the room sometime later. He was finally drowning in the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

End Of Chapter 1 🥀...

Who would you choose in a world where love and duty collided, and where the heart's desires clashed with the demands of fate? The unspoken love of Jiyan, who has known you since childhood, or the fiery passion that Calcharo harbors for you, despite the shadows of his past?

[ladystarksneedle]

What happened to Liv? 😭 I know you two are close I can’t find her blog anymore 😭😭😭😭

Hey anon! Thank you for reaching out. Liv decided to deactivate or delete her blog after all the hate anons she received. It was a pretty pointless debate, if you'd even call it that at this point, with her getting very vile and personally attacking anons to the point where she felt this wasn't a happy place to be sharing her thoughts, to which I absolutely agree with.

Since you've brought up the topic that was the shortest answer I could give you above. If you are interested in reading more I'll expand below the cut, as I have a lot to say.

This whole thing started about a fictional character, Michael Gavey, who hasn't appeared on screen or will appear for 64 seconds and sparked a debate on whether you should write or read or plainly consume fanfiction about a character who hasn't been properly defined.

Now it could have remained that. A debate and I personally see things from both povs

This is a post I agree with as a writer.

Here

I'm an amateur, I've just begun writing but my style or whatever I'm finding, matches the one mentioned above. I need visual cues and I need to see and analyse a character more if I ever consider writing about him so yes, I personally would not write about a character I haven't completely analysed or who hasn't appeared on screen yet.

As a reader however, I have a different perspective. I love spoilers. I like knowing things beforehand and going through them in my head before reading a book or consuming media. Its fun to go "oh what I pictured turned out to be quite close to what's being shown here". The accuracy or near accuracy gives me a boost. I'm happy when I feel like I analysed or thought about a character similar to what I see later on. It shows me I understood the creator and what they were trying to portray even before seeing it. Gives me a "we are maybe on the same wavelength" feeling and thats fantastic.

That's why I can see a similar perspective to authors and creators already writing fanfiction for him before they've seen the movie. They have an image in their head and they want to be creative and show you how wonderful their imagination is. What's wrong with that? I have many moots who've written lovely stories that I want to read and I probably will.

Coming back to the point, what I don't understand is why people decided that these were such drastically opposite views and decided to sling hatred at whoever didn't conform to their idea of consumption and creation of media.

Why was there a need to send hate to a creator who said she didn't want to read or write as yet just because she wanted to get to know him better before doing so?

Why was there a need to harass writers who wanted to write and express their feelings being all gatekeepy over their work instead?

And why was there a need to constantly continue this anon responding and giving them traction all over again. It should have been shot down long before a fellow creator was forced to leave this site for good. We're all friends here why can't we be civil and respect each other's opinions.

A post stating your preference is not calling the other out. It is simply that, stating your preference and we as a fandom need to stop clinging to crumbs and overanalyzing stuff like this and use them for call out games.

Look at his pretty face and analyse those crumbs instead.

This is supposed to be fun, please continue to letting it be fun for others too.

That's all.

[cowboymenace]

Speculating About Ric Flair

Now I doubt that Ric Flair or his people will find this write up but I'm gonna be using the word allegedly a lot because I will be speculating about what Ric Flair is really doing in AEW.

On October 25th, 2023 Ric Flair would be revealed as Tony Khan's gift to Sting as a part of Sting Retirement Story. Sting and Flair are one of the most iconic rivalries in Wrestling History, the two even wrestled on the very last Nitro. This should have been met with rejoicing, right? No. Many online fans voiced their displeasure with the signing of Flair citing the sexual assault that occurred on the infamous plane ride from hell. This incident became much more well known due to the Darkside of the Ring series covering the whole ordeal. There's also Teddy Long going on the record stating that Flair had said heinous slurs to him and has yet to apologize

What's even worse in my opinion is Tony Khan dunking on Vince McMahon's alleged history of sexual misconduct, and yet still bringing in Flair anyways. It makes it apparent that Tony does not care about the victims, and was scoring a cheap dig against his competitor.

Another layer to this, is the promotion of Flair's brand of energy drink. I will not be mentioning its name nor its image since that would be indirectly promoting it as well. Each week now, there's a portion of the entrance stage dedicated to promoting the drink. The commentary desk has three cans of different flavors on display. It feels so bleak and dare I say carny. This is a major strike against Tony Khan's credibility about a promoter.

On the November 29th episode of Dynamite, Ric Flair would cut a promo backstage. The promo went on and on, you just can't help but to feel some iota of sadness watching this shell of a man trying to recapture faded glory. Watch for yourself if you wish, just be warned it's bleak.

The reaction was brutal. So much so that now Flair is threatening to leave. Fellow veterans like Chris Jericho (who punched a female fan in 2008) and Stone Cold Steve Austin (who beat Debra, something he pleaded no contest to) voiced their support. Something something birds of a feather.

On Jericho's end, this is insane. He narrated each episode of Darkside of the Ring. He read out loud what Flair did. This makes him incredibly scummy, but I digress. Back to Flair

Flair has also stated that younger talents have not approached him for advice. This is adding to the criticism of the AEW lockerroom being full of young guys who do not take older veterans' advice, but Taz has dispelled that.

If anything, this tells us that no one wishes to interact with Flair. Why should they? They know about his history and how he seems to not have atone for it. Why is this man getting a paycheck in a company that is trying its hardest to remove toxicity from the lockerroom? I do not blame those avoiding him like the plague.

So this seems like a misreading of the room by Tony Khan, and a huge waste of time for Ric right? But what if this was the goal?

In 2009 Ric Flair was brought into ROH as an authority figure. Flair had just finished his retirement run in the WWE and was moving on. However, Flair would No-Show after being paid

Flair was paid 35K for the position and was going to get 10K per appearance. He took the money and left. ROH then responded by announcing a lawsuit.

Recently Ric Flair was on an episode of Kill Tony, a comedy show where a panel of veteran comedians and celebrities would judge one minute sets by amateurs. His appearance was odd. He was slurring his words and would not engage with the show. He would ramble on about donating time and he then went on to leave in the middle of the show. It was bizarre, could it have been he was not anticipating how mean the show is to participants. Or did he figure he got paid anyway and just dip? Now I am merely speculating, I am not sure if Tony paid him or this was a favor. I can imagine anything with Flair requires payments but again I'm just speculating.

Now this brings us to Flair in AEW. Is Flair looking for an exit after getting some money out of Tony Khan, who happily gave it to him? This is what I believe is Flair's current move. He has a history of not fulfilling his commitments, and he may just be doing it again, allegedly, parody, in minecraft. Satire.

If Flair does leave I hope that this is a lesson to Tony never meet your heroes, they may try to rip you off (Allegeldy!!!!)

[havocdream]

Unheard and Unseen - Three

Summary: Vintra hosts a meeting between fellow senators in her office to discuss the most threatening issues ahead of the next Senate session, and her new security team is able to prevent two possible attacks. As Hunter evaluates both cases, he realizes that real danger may already be in motion.

Word count: 7.4k

Warnings: Mentions of bombs and sniper | Allusion to attempted murder | Threatening | Conspiracy | Some characters die

Notes at the end of chapter

Chapter Two -> Naive ideals

Masterlist

A bad feeling about it

It was past midnight when Hunter finished working out the general plan, so now he’d focus on that day’s arrangements. But before doing so, he brought his gaze to the door of the senator's room.

She had said, several hours ago, that she was going to rest. But Hunter could sense what was going on inside that room, even hear. The senator had been awake all night. He listened to keys of her laptop being pressed, felt the electric current on her datapad, even heard the senator's tired sighs.

The sergeant wondered what could take a politician so long for her day not to end when she left the Senate building.

Hunter looked at the hologram map of the central city of Coruscant. He already had the orders for each guard and for each of his brothers, and he’d lay them out for them in the morning. That night, the guards had been ordered to keep vigil on each floor. Tech, who was the one who would be sharing shift with Hunter in the nights, monitored the top floors using the cameras, sensors and listening devices.

Tech had already finished setting up everything needed in the building, but had yet to complete places like the surrounding complexes and, of course, the Senate building. He’d already gained access to Coruscant's security and was monitoring the cameras and microphones in the streets. The control room he had set up in one of the vacated apartments was huge, filled with screens with images, graphs, results from some sensors, and programming for key pattern recognition to identify suspicious activity.

From all that access, Tech could control crime on Coruscant. But they were Special Forces, tasked with a high-priority mission. They weren't there to be local cops, but, in Tech's eyes, to protect democracy itself. He couldn't focus on anything other than Senator Selana's safety.

“I don't like her,” Hunter told him over the intercom. The brains of the group was focused on the cameras in front of him, making sure everything was working in order. “I don't think she knows what she's talking about,” his brother added, sounding irritated, as if he’d just had a fight with Crosshair.

“I don't agree with all of her opinions,” Tech commented, as he mused on the list of times he hadn't sympathized with her speeches, “but I consider her one of the best senators in the Republic, along with Senator Amidala, Senator Organa, Senator Mothma...”

“Yes, well, maybe there are other things she must be right about...” mused Hunter with Tech, “but she should stick to those in her speeches and bills, not to war and military stuff,” Hunter wrote down more details on the report he´d brief later to the troopers, concerning the vigilance of the senator’s residential building while she was out.

“I assure you she’s one of the most competent politicians to speak about these matters. Senator Selana is titled in interplanetary relationships with distinction in politics and economics. Many systems in the Republic recur to her for efficient studies and projections, and bill proposals, to increase their domestic gross and population’s wellbeing.

She’s also responsible for the arrest of several mafia group leaders, corrupt businessmen and separatist spies. Has successfully exposed hundreds of money laundering enterprises, and in each of her cases she fights for compensation for damages to all those potentially affected by these crimes. Honestly, I find it complicated to dislike her,” defended clone with goggles, who could memorize thousands of Senate speeches, but almost all his favorites were those of Senator Selana.

Hunter let out a sigh. “Just because she champions other good causes doesn't mean she can´t be wrong. According to her, we shouldn't even exist,” the sergeant complained, still uncomfortable with the conviction with which the senator believed the clones were untrustworthy and the cause of more death in the galaxy.

“Hunter, I doubt that a senator who has put her life on the line to defend the lives of millions, who don't even know she's carrying the full political weight of their survival, wants an entire species to not exist,” Hunter furrowed his eyebrows, and pondered that a bit. Tech might have a point, but he didn't like to give in to it.

“I still don't like her,” the sergeant confessed, which, despite giving the senator the benefit of the doubt, he still found irritating. He found it hard to swallow someone who supported disbanding the military, and who lived by such innocent ideals as negotiations with separatists.

“You don't have to like her,” he heard Tech's voice in his ear, “you just have to keep her alive,” Tech reminded him. Hunter was about to respond, when he heard movement in the senator's room. Shortly after, the door to her room opened. The senator stepped out and was surprised to see Hunter on the business meeting couch, right where she had left him hours before.

Vintra was wrapped in her robe, ready to go get a glass of water, but stopped herself when she found the sergeant still awake. She hugged herself and hid as best she could her breasts behind her arms, as if she felt naked going in only her nightgown and robe.

Hunter looked her in the face, all makeup removed, and hair undone. In front of him, she didn´t look like a senator at all, just a woman wrapped in an inconvenient situation. Her surprised countenance reminded the sergeant of a hopeless deer that had just been spotted by its killer. Not at all the demeanor she projected earlier, that gave him the impression of someone that could never be crumbled.

“May I offer you some water?” suggested Vintra on her way to the kitchen. She watched as the sergeant nodded, a little hesitantly, but came back with an extra glass for him anyway. Hunter thanked her with an uncomfortable grimace, which made the senator feel even more uneasy.

A hush flooded the room, which at that time of night weighed quite heavily on the clone and the ederian. Hunter listened to the senator's nervous heartbeat. It wasn’t exaggerated; it carried the compass of discomfort.

Vintra bit her lip before letting out a sigh of defeat, and walked to the opposite couch, where she had been hours earlier. The curtains on each window blocked the view of the city, someone had unfolded them. Probably the sergeant, as a security measure.

Watching the senator take a seat, Hunter grabbed the macrobinoculars from the table and headed for the windows behind her. Vintra followed him with her eyes.

“My team sent me the rest of your requirements. I evaluated them all... they look good to me,” Vintra said, her eyes glued to the back neck of the clone, who, moving the curtains a little, was looking out the window at the buildings. She wondered if he was trying to ignore her.

“Fine,” was all that the clone said to her. Vintra relaxed her shoulders, as if to get rid of an annoying weight on her back.

“Look,” she started, but calmed down before continuing, not wanting to start an argument at that time of night, “I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for your squad or for you to be pulled off the front lines to come watch my back. I understand that following orders that involve giving your life or the lives of your brothers to protect someone you don't like isn’t the kind of mission you were created for, but here we are,” continued Vintra, who hoped to find common ground between her and the sergeant. “I know that, at the end of the day, you’re here to protect me and will do your duty, despite my reservations with the clones,” Hunter lowered the macrobinoculars and turned back to watch her, though not for long before turning again and looking out the other window at the city. “But I hope you understand my position as well. I don’t know the codes of honor that exist between soldiers, but I am aware of the law and how certain scenarios can disserve me. So, I will seek to negotiate with you those cases that seem inconvenient to me before the law, but I promise you my cooperation with your orders. The least I can do, if you’re here to risk your life for me, is to respect your decisions,” she concluded, and her passive voice aroused no desire in Hunter to incite another discussion.

“All right,” said the clone, who lowered the device with which he was observing the city and placed it on one of the pillar tables that divided the windows. The clone turned to look at the senator, and a slightly more smiling look greeted her. “I take your point.”

Vintra took a breath, satisfied with the resolution, and settled better on the couch. She could tolerate that, and she had to. They were there with orders, and she doubted they wanted to tarnish their reputation by failing to keep her alive, much less planning to kill her.

The senator noticed the hologram on the table, where several datapads and papers were scattered about. She saw numbers, letters and blueprints. However, what caught her attention the most was the hologram. It showed a 3D map of the area around the Savanta building. Her apartment was crossed by quite a few red lines connecting to other buildings.

“What are all those lines?” she pointed her index finger at some of them, unsure if it was a good or bad thing. Hunter turned away from the window and took some steps until he got behind the senator, who turned to look at him when her answer took a little while.

“These are all direct points where a sniper could shoot you, right at this very moment,” said Hunter, who took a stiff stance. “From here, I'm blocking at least nine of them,” the clone could see the senator's face soften the muscles, and he could almost hear her brain processing what his words implied. He’d already set to work, for he knew that every kind of danger didn’t rest, and thus he had to always be on his guard. Even if it was some inexperienced or stupid criminal.

“Okay... so... what's the plan?” was all Vintra could say, for the idea of someone pointing at her head with a big rifle at that precise moment hadn’t gone down well with her. Hunter folded his arms.

“The idea is to control as best we can any threat before an attack is carried out. Explosives, bounty hunters or assassins... with the recognition of everything around you, we can catch an attacker without the need for you to be in danger,” the clone explained to her. Vintra nodded and turned her whole body to look at him. “You’ll have four guards who’ll follow you everywhere, along with Wrecker and me. Your other eleven guards will be at specific points near your location to monitor and pursue, if necessary,” she wanted to protest, but found no argument to refute the sergeant's logic. Hunter noticed, but let it go. “The shock troopers will be responsible for identifying every person who enters this building, and absolutely no one will have access to your apartment without prior notice. Everything you eat or drink will go through me first, looking for poisons or explosives. Your windows will be reinforced with retractable iron sheets, although they will remain activated at all times.”

“Sergeant...poison? snipers? really? It all sounds like measures someone like the Chancellor would have,” Vintra suggested, not considering that a criminal expert would want to finish her off. “So far, all my attacks have been building break-ins, very failed attempts at explosives, or someone out of control in the crowd,” Hunter shrugged.

“It doesn't matter. If you don't know who it is, you don't know what might come next. I'd rather you’re prepared for anything rather than being overconfident,” there was no deception in Hunter's gaze, so Vintra didn't bother to contradict him. The truth was, she felt better knowing that they couldn't harm her in any way. “We will locate a specific place to transport you after any attack, and will remain there until we register and clean the surrounding area and your apartment. For sniper attacks, Crosshair has mapped out an escape choreography,” Hunter pointed to a piece of paper on the table, which Vintra picked up and looked at. It consisted of zigzag lines. “Ideally, Wrecker or I should be at your side, but if we’re not, you'll have to move on your own, it's not ideal for you to stay still under attack,” Vintra stood up and walked to the front of her room's door, where there was enough room to move around. Hunter followed her, always with his body interposed between all possible points of view from outside and the senator. He watched as Vintra began practicing Crosshair's steps. “You’ll carry a military grade parasol, in case of an attack that requires keeping you in sight, that way you’ll block thermal visions...” Hunter noted several errors in the senator's stride when practicing the zigzag escape, he’d remind himself later to practice them with her. “And, lastly, I need you to carry a weapon.”

Vintra stopped in her steps and looked at him a little surprised. Hunter anticipated the senator's rejection, but not necessarily because of her body's reaction, but because he’d already gotten an idea of who she was. He already knew she wasn't a proponent of violence, the last thing she’d want would be to carry a gun with her. But it was worth trying to convince her.

“Will it be one with a stun option?” she asked, to the clone’s curiosity. He narrowed his eyes.

“Yes...”

“Well, that's fine then,” Vintra confirmed, with an unsure tone that also made Hunter hesitate.

“I thought you weren't in favor of violence,” he provoked, but Vintra didn't sense annoyance, only inquisitiveness.

“Self-defense is not the same thing as a violent response. I know that negotiating with an attacker directly is almost impossible, it’s not the same when negotiating with the orchestrators behind a war. If someone raises their weapon at me, my only way out is limited to my immediate options, right? I lack the experience to disarm, and I'm not willing to kill... luckily, there are weapons that only stun... that's good enough for me,” there was still doubt in her tone, but Hunter didn't give it any more thought. He had what he wanted.

“Essentially, I'll tell you what to do in every situation that comes up, but those would be the general directions for the time being. They probably won't all be necessary in the end, but it's not my job to assume how high the danger is before I see it for myself,” Vintra noticed that Hunter was still covering her from any threats outside the window. She saw no trace of insecurity or doubt in his expression, as if taking a shot for her didn't matter in the least.

He expected it from ederians, for she was their senator. Her guard had sworn to die for her if necessary. But Hunter was a clone, a soldier for the Republic, and, especially, didn't like her. But there he was, carrying out his orders.

Or maybe he didn't think she was in danger at all.

“I appreciate your instructions, anything else?” she said, giving up on the zigzag choreography on the paper and laying it on the table. Hunter looked at her, and then the door of her room, that stuck out over her shoulder.

“I need to search your room, every night,” it was logical, her bedroom was the only place where she was completely alone.

“Okay,” she said in a whisper, and pointed to the door behind her, “go ahead,” she indicated the clone, who didn't wait for her to enter first.

Hunter was met with a stunning sight. That room, as he had assumed, was huge, but had very little in comparison to the rest of the apartment. From the entrance, the senator's bed was attached to the wall, overlooking the large windows covered with brown curtains. It was a wide bed, not very high, and with lots of pillows and stools on either side, adorned with night lamps.

In the opposite corner, close to the window, there was a gray sofa-bed, on which there were plenty of papers. And at the opposite end, to the left of the entrance, there was a desk. Bigger than the one in the living room, black in color and with hundreds of things on it, not just papers.

At the back, the bathtub area could be seen, as the partition was also made of pure glass. From his position he could see it and a blue sofa facing the city.

He assumed that the slight hallway in the background and next to the entrance to the tub area, was the one leading to the private bathroom and the closet. He approached to confirm and found two doors at each side leading to both, one behind the tub area, and the other behind the wall of the bed, with the senator's clothes and footwear on either side of the compacted room. A huge mirror reflected his silhouette on the far wall.

“My previous guard installed a bunker under the bed,” he heard the senator's voice behind him. Hunter perceived no threat inside the room, but he was concerned that the windows in front of the bed were not yet reinforced.

Vintra led the sergeant to the entrance of the small bunker she usually hid in when her guard alerted her to an attack. It was right on the wooden base that surrounded her bed, at the front of it and almost imperceptible. The senator hit the wood hard, and a piece of it destabilized. Hunter bent down and examined it.

There was an iron door behind it, which opened the second Vintra typed the key into a keypad installed in front. Inside, there was nothing, although he could see that it provided enough oxygen and could fit at least three people lying down. Hunter thought the idea was good, but didn't say so.

“Senator, if you are not going to rest tonight, may I ask you to work at the desk in your living room?” asked Hunter, for it was late and he sensed no intentions in Vintra of wanting to go to sleep. She’d probably continue her work there, so it shouldn't be a problem for her to do so from where Hunter could remain alert.

Vintra's alarm blared from inside her chamber, and the Ederon senator rose from the desk in her main hall to go turn it off. She glanced at the time stamped on her holo-alarm: five o'clock.

She hadn't been able to get any sleep once again, but her body didn't seem to demand that she did so. Occasionally she managed to get a short nap, and that was all she needed to stay active for another forty hours. After all, there was a lot of work to be done.

The senator returned to her room’s door and faced the sergeant. They had been practicing the zigzag choreography in her living room for some time, and both had managed, somehow, to make the other let out a chuckle thanks to her inability to keep up with him, and the sight of a Republic Senator tripping and falling.

A smile on her face couldn’t be avoided. The sergeant, despite the time and their initial collision, behaved nicely with her while teaching her that crucial information, as well as when describing more details of his general security plan. Although, Vintra wondered if that was the case because she didn’t talk at all about her job or her opinions.

Her smile faded.

“I'll be ready in two hours,” the senator said to the sergeant, who stood at some distance from the senator and blocked certain points of view from the outside with his body. Those were the first words Vintra had said to him in two hours, during which she had been immersed in reports and her computer.

Hearing her, the sergeant drew his eyebrows together and hurried to catch up with her. Vintra was about to close the door to her room behind her, until she was stopped dead in her tracks by Hunter's hand.

“What do you mean, two hours?” the clone demanded to know, not sure if the senator was actually serious. She shrugged, not understanding the confusion.

“I have to take a bath, dress, do my hair and makeup...what do you think that takes, half an hour?” asked Vintra, as if the clone's doubts were so stupid she couldn't believe he didn't know. Hunter folded his arms.

“Senator Selana, every second you're alone is vital, I'd like to keep it as short as possible for your own safety,” Hunter insisted, but Vintra’s face opted for the expression Hunter was already beginning to learn well. Eyes narrowed and hands balled into fists.

“I am a senator, sergeant, I cannot present myself to the Senate as someone who could be confused in the multitude of planets. I represent, at all times, cultures and the honor of an entire species,” her tone was harsh and gave no room for contradiction, different from what Hunter had heard so far, “I don't get into all of this just because it pleases me to look beautiful in front of everyone, I do it because it’s part of my duty as well, and I’ll take what time I need to get the best result every time,” and with that said, she closed the door in front of Hunter´s face.

“I'm beginning to think this is indeed punishment,” he heard Crosshair's voice behind him.

Hunter used those two hours to brief his brothers with the instructions he’d work on, examine the senator's routes, and think of any other measures they might need to take. The guards already had their orders and roles, Tech had the city under his watch and all that was left was the installation in the Senate Building of sensors, the location of the secret shelter, and the senator's iron shutters.

Until then, Hunter could give the clean environment order. Until then, the senator was still in unknown danger.

Crosshair had just retreated to go to the building he had chosen as a checkpoint, when the door to the senator's chamber finally opened. Wrecker and Hunter turned to see her, she was wearing a long velvet wine dress, which covered her chest and lower neck and molded to her figure, defined by the curves of her hips and breasts. Her bare arms were slightly covered by the cape that hung from the back of her neck to her heels, raised slightly off the ground by dusty pink high shoes.

Her hair was loose, though neatly lined and smoothed with gel behind her pointy ears, making it look neat and tidy. It was adorned with a gold piece in the shape of wings that encircled the senator’s head from the back until the front, where it didn’t end up closing. And with her makeup, it gave her an air of solemn, elegant authority.

“I'm ready,” the senator said, with a beaming smile that caused Wrecker and Hunter to share a glance, to confirm that they saw the same thing as the other, a splendid change.

Vintra was receiving many looks of confusion and concern as she made her way to her office, which was located on one of the top floors of the Senate Building. The main reason was because of his two bodyguards in peculiar clone armor, in addition to the four personal guards who were closing the parade. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, as the Ederon Senator had already suffered a variety of attacks. However, that didn't stop some senators from needing to comment on it.

“Well, Senator Selana, weren't you one of the main opponents of the law admitting the use of the clone army to suppress separatist attacks? Does this mean you will vote in favor of producing more troops?” ambushed her the Umbara Senator, Mee Deechi, an unfriendly white-haired man with grayish markings on his face. Vintra smiled cordially at him.

“I didn’t request a squad of clones to protect me, Senator Deechi, it was General Kenobi's suggestion that I'd accept this unit,” defended the Ederon Senator, who kept her countenance serene before the provocations Deechi might start. That was already a routine for a politician like her.

“Still, you could’ve refused,” suggested the man, who frowned as he pressed further on the hypocrisy he perceived from the young senator.

“I'm in no position to refuse, Mee,” Vintra replied confidently as she called him by his name. “If it bothers you so much, let them make an attempt on your life a couple of times within the same month and maybe you'll get an army sent to protect you,” Vintra boasted, and Senator Meechi stopped in his tracks to let her continue on her course, but not before offering her a grimace of displeasure and a not very pleasant insult for her haughtiness.

Wrecker and Hunter had visited many places, even on Coruscant, but that was the first time they’d seen the Senate Building from the inside. From their visors, they observed rooms and offices on either side of the circular corridor, and it was filled with individuals of every alien race carrying papers, devices or larger things that were hard to identify. But it was easy to pick out the senators, with their fancy clothes, pretentious hairstyles, and an air of authority and elegance that made them unmistakable. Senator Selana, of course, was no exception.

“Is someone waiting for you inside?” asked Hunter when Vintra finally stopped in front of a door, on which a title read ‘Senator Vintra Selana of Ederon’. His heightened senses allowed him to perceive activity inside the senator’s office, but didn’t seem to be hostile or hidden suspicious. Still, the clone had to make sure.

“No, is someone there?” the confused tone from Vintra was all Hunter needed to signal Wrecker to take up a defensive position as he drew out his blaster. Vintra blinked twice before deducing what might happen. “Maybe it's the other senators, we're in the middle of a—” but she was interrupted by the clone.

“That's for me to judge,” Hunter pressed the button on the door to open it. He quickly stepped between the senator and the interior of her office, only to reveal, in fact, a group of senators who turned to him. Their grimaces of anticipation transformed into ones of confusion. Hunter lowered his gun and stepped aside for the senator.

“Sorry for the surprise, my friends, I'm afraid the subject of my security has become a bit more demanding,” the senator explained once she approached the rest of her colleagues to greet them. Wrecker stood, on Hunter's orders, on the hallway side of the door as he and the senator's personal guard entered the office.

A group of six senators were in the room. Hunter knew three, human: Senator Amidala of Naboo, Senator Organa of Alderaan, and Senator Mothma of Chandrila. The other three were Senator Farr of Rodia, Senator Kelvos of Kaar Pa, and Senator Dugan of Hexcar. The first was a Rodian, with large eyes whose reflection resembled the image of the star-studded galaxy, with blue skin and average height. The second was a white haired with blue eyes human, and the third was a Hexcaran, with a grayish, almost pale, complexion, completely yellow oval eyes, and two ears on each side, one on top of the other, the upper one of a larger size.

Everyone was pleased to see the ederian senator.

“And clones no less... I remember your reservations, Vintra, but personally I am very glad to see that you’re in very good hands,” spoke Senator Amidala, a woman of fair complexion and brown hair, with a sweet voice and a honeyed gaze. She was, in Vintra's opinion, the most valuable senator the Republic had. She gave a smile to the clone who carried himself like Senator Selana's shadow.

“Thank you, Padmé,” was all Vintra said at her friend's compliment to the clones. “However, I think it’s inconvenient his presence for the discussion ahead of us, don't you think, senators?” questioned Vintra to the circle the others formed as they took seats on the couches in her office, which consisted of a large rectangular space, with a window behind the senator's desk overlooking the city. There were two chairs in front of her desk, and behind those a group of couches that could accommodate a group of six senators spread out with two wide white leather sofas and a rectangular glass table. There was a restroom on the left side of the entrance, and a bookcase full of folders on the right side.

The senators turned to look at Vintra and Hunter.

“Inconvenient, yes, but I don't think it's a problem,” said Senator Mothma, who agreed that the clone shouldn’t retreat. “He's here to protect you, Vintra, not to share his opinions on politics,” she reminded him, to which Hunter nodded and Vintra rolled her eyes.

The sergeant positioned himself in front of the window with his back to the senators, to observe any weak spots from there. Crosshair had been studying the near surroundings of the Senate Building and had also provided a holomap of the attack points. His brother was in a building he could see from there, diagonally to his left, one of the tallest. Crosshair could watch all the threat points he had marked from there, and Tech monitored the city's cameras and sensors. Any anomalies, one of the two would let him know.

Vintra took a seat in a chair at the end of the couches that faced each other. Padmé spoke first.

“Senator Burtoni plans to propose the creation of five million clones at the next senate session,” she brought up the snag. “Rumor has reached me that for the production of more troops, some have sold their vote in exchange to boost the profits of certain businesses of interest, so these can end up in their pockets,” the senator spoke quietly with concern. Senator Organa stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“It will have to be someone with connections to businessmen, or from planets whose greatest asset is factories,” he proposed, but Vintra extended her arm and unfolded a hologram with a map of information surrounding a specific individual.

“Yesterday I got the report from my informants with certain pieces that make me think it might be Urr Nad's Senator, Ercan Bibra,” the hologram showed the human with long black hair with sharp red eyes, and black markings under them. “I got pictures of a meeting he had three days ago with one of the owners of a ship factory, and two days ago he signed a contract to become a shareholder in it. Communication network records report that about twenty call signs came out of his apartment that same night, although his communicator doesn't show the records.”

“Maybe he used a private line,” Senator Dugan mused, annoyed by the reality Vintra was exposing. “Do you think you can use that information against him and confront him?” Padmé was alarmed at the suggestion.

“I think it's best if Vintra stays out of any confrontation against more senators, the last thing She needs is to make more enemies,” she suggested, to which Vintra sighed in frustration.

“As much as I like to stir the hornet's nest, Padmé’s right, but because at the moment I'm quite busy with the Druad case,” she confessed, and pointed to her desk so it was evident how much work she had with the pile of papers on top of it. “I still have to talk to several senators,” Senator Kelvos gave her a smile.

“No one said justice was going to be served easily,” her sapphire eyes sent a wave of calm to Vintra, as did her smile, laden with experience and mentorship that the ederian appreciated as much as a cool breeze on the hottest of days. Her white hair, which today was pulled back in a very elegant hairstyle and adorned with a silver tiara, made her look even wiser. “It fills me with pride to see young people like you, Senator Amidala and Senator Dugan offer such magnificent fierceness in your speeches, and that your determination holds a powerful key to an entire species to save them from extinction,” Senator Kelvos praised, and the three alluded received with much joy in their hearts the words of such an eminence in the Republic.

“I thank you very much for your confidence, Senator Kelvos,” Vintra said back, her hand on her chest to express how much she appreciated that.

“I’ll take care of Senator Bibra,” Senator Organa said. “Padmé... you, Mon and Onaconda concentrate on gathering the votes against Burtoni,” he gestured to the two women and the Rhodian. “Vintra, the information you receive please pass it on to me and Zan,” he pointed to the Hexcaran, “we will see that the votes are not altered by outside factors; you and Cilla concentrate on your cases,” she and Senator Kelvos shared a look and smiled at each other. It was partly disappointing to Vintra that she couldn’t be as much a part of that case as she’d like, but she understood that for the moment the fate of an entire planet depended largely on her alone.

Tech's voice came over Hunter's communicator. “Cameras near the senator's building picked up two unidentified individuals, and infrared detectors revealed an explosive. The west team has already taken care of them, and the bomb has been located out of range. I need Wrecker to neutralize it,” were Tech's words. The big guy's excited laughter was heard.

“Finally, an exciting job... I'm on my way!” he said as he saw on his holomap the coordinates provided by Tech. Hunter ordered one of the ederian guards to go out and replace Wrecker's position. He then took his finger to his communicator to speak.

“Right, have them questioned before the police arrive,” the sergeant ordered. Crosshair's channel input caught his attention.

“Hunter, I'm detecting movement in building three marked on the holomap of the Senate Building,” Hunter unfolded the device and building three flashed in front of him, it was one about the same size as the political building. “Thirty-second floor, supposedly abandoned,” his husky voice indicated. Hunter pulled out his macrobinoculars and focused on the spot Crosshair was talking about.

“Sniper?” the sergeant questioned. Crosshair made a groan of denial.

“It doesn't look like it, it's too low yet and would only be successful if the senator stood exactly where you are right now,” reprimanded the youngest of the siblings irritably. Hunter rolled his eyes and took a step back. “Besides, he's only peered out with one lens, looks like he's studying the angles,” Hunter frowned.

“Is it possible to get a good shot from there, could you?” the sergeant questioned his brother. Crosshair was slow to respond, for he had many more considerations to make to answer precisely.

“Are there any reflective objects within a six-foot radius?” Hunter turned around to look for something similar. He found a flower jar, albeit without one, on the floor next to the senator's desk. “There's a rifle capable of shooting fire that travels by reflexes. If focused well, that's all someone needs for the shot to end up in the senator's eyes,” the sergeant remained alert to every reflective object near the senator, including the eyes of all the senators. Hunter stepped between the window and the senators.

“Do you think that's the case?” asked Hunter with a frown, doubtful of such an option. He heard his brother sigh.

“No, it's a classified rifle and very difficult to use... but it's a possibility,” Crosshair commented with noticeable discouragement in his voice. He held out no hope that anything so interesting was going to be after the senator.

“A group of guards are already on their way to intercept him,” Tech said over the comm. The bespectacled one was in the control center of the Senate Building, keeping an eye on the cameras and sensors for anything he could access with military codes.

Hunter turned around as he heard several footsteps heading for the door. The senators were finally leaving, and Vintra gave a curious look, cloaked in a halo of fear, to the sergeant as she walked to her desk.

“Everything alright, sergeant?” she wanted to know, since she’d seen the clone move around with a vase and scan the room for something. Hunter nodded and took a firm stance behind her seat.

“Yes, senator,” he told her. He knew there was no need to plant ideas at the moment. Vintra skimmed around her desk a bit, as she thought she’d be able to notice whatever it was that had the sergeant on alert, but failed to do so.

At the end of the day, the people responsible for the explosive were some young men who were into blogging about thusten curiosities and wanted to scare the senator into withdrawing the proposal, and the suspect in the abandoned apartment, despite being a sniper, really thought he could shoot her from there. A pitiful rookie, Crosshair described.

Hunter, who was standing in front of the three captured men with his arms crossed and his helmet off, examined them closely. Although he knew they had told the truth, something didn't convince him.

“Have you met before?” he asked. The three questioned shared a glance, and immediately denied. “Yes or no? I want an audible answer,” the tone of voice was important to him, as he needed to rule out a theory that was beginning to unsettle him.

“No, sir!” replied one of the explosive boys. Hunter discerned no lie in his words, but it wasn't enough, though it didn't suit him to have them all there.

“Tech!” he called his brother, who was now in the control center of Vintra's residential building. “Research their online activity for the last month, tell me if you find anything,” Hunter turned to Crosshair and took the datapad the platinum-haired man was holding from him. Hunter typed in a couple of questions and pointed to the captured sniper with his head. “Take him, I don't care where, and ask him these questions. I want a report on it,” ordered him and Crosshair was quick to obey. Finally, he turned to the two boys with both hands on his hips. Seeing how they both made as little effort as possible to hide the fear on their faces, he decided to use it to his advantage. “You planned all this on your own?” the sergeant inquired with a warning tone, as if warning them that a single hint of a lie could cost them dearly. He heard how one of them swallowed saliva with difficulty.

“Y-yes, it was all o-our idea,” the terrified boy answered thinly. Finally, Hunter got what he was looking for, and at the disappointing response, he proceeded to unsheathe his knife.

Vintra was tapping her fingertips on the surface of her keyboard in her residence, focused on drafting her next speech to the Senate, when the sergeant finally appeared in her apartment. Wrecker, who was blocking the senator's figure from several vantage points from outside, turned to look at his brother.

“She says she won't go to sleep,” the big guy said a little reluctantly and pointed to Vintra, who didn't take her eyes off her computer. Hunter walked over to her and barely paid attention to his brother's complaint.

“Senator, did your previous security team ever inform you of non-threatening attacks around you?” the sergeant questioned once he positioned himself in front of the senator's desk, to cover more exposed points that Wrecker on his own couldn’t. She turned to look at him.

“My captain mentioned it once,” Vintra mused as he recalled a time when a speeder flew so close to them that her vehicle destabilized a bit and was derailed from the lane. “He said there were people unhappy with me who’d be willing to scare me, but weren't capable of actually hurting me...” Vintra watched as the sergeant's eyes shifted as if an infinity of events unfolded in front of him that he could barely comprehend. She frowned. “Why?” she asked, worried about his reaction.

Hunter looked at her for a second, but turned away and made his way to the middle couches as he pulled out a datapad and watched it. Vintra heard him mumbling, probably talking to someone over the intercom, but didn't bother to probe further. Still, she kept glancing over to him, anxious to know the reason of his behavior, suspecting that something was going on regarding her safety.

“You were right,” Hunter heard Tech's voice after asking him to let him know what he'd found. “There is a pattern. For four weeks in a row, there have been two non-direct attacks in the vicinity of the senator's residence and her office, followed by a direct attack that has left no survivors,” Hunter's brain gears began to work as he thought about what that might mean “They're usually explosives or armed robbery attempts—oh,” Hunter knew perfectly Tech's surprised tone.

“What?” the sergeant demanded to know. He turned to look at the senator, who looked quite focused on her computer.

Tech delayed a few moments before answering, he’d probably gone to confirm his data.

“Everyone who carried out a harmless attack is... dead,” Hunter had to stop his brain at that information. “Police reports state that they suffered an obstructed airway,”

“And there are no survivors from the more lethal attacks,” the sergeant mused to himself. If he put together the information obtained by the two vandals from the explosive that day, Crosshair's report with the sniper, and what Tech was telling him....

“It's likely that these sporadic attacks are part of a more elaborated plan,” Tech said aloud what Hunter was beginning to think, “or do you think we're losing sense of proportion?” the question Tech asked was one the sergeant had already asked himself a couple of hours ago, when he still had reason to theorize it.

But he no longer believed it. There was definitely a suspicious streak in those events, one that the sergeant had picked up on since the two attackers that day, aside from looking completely inexperienced, were meant to make the senator nervous for a moment.

“Someone is behind this,” Hunter assured Tech. He didn't have irrefutable proof, but identifying the trail of his prey was his specialty.

“Nothing in their online activity suggests they were contacted by anyone,” reminded Tech, who had found nothing to link the boys to the sniper. “Unless they received written instructions,” suggested the squad's mastermind.

“There must be some connection between everyone, can you take care of that tomorrow?” Hunter hoped that at least that suspicion would make them rule out the possibility of hidden intentions behind all the attacks, but until then he’d treat it as a matter of primary interest.

“I can do that tonight,” Tech complained. “I can't allow myself the luxury of resting on the possibility that someone has orchestrated such a meticulous and patient plan that’s likely to be carried out tomorrow,” he protested, as if Hunter's proposal was an insult to his job. The sergeant blinked once to understand what Tech was referring to, and then the reason jumped abruptly in his head. He’d totally forgotten.

“The audience,” he remembered from the Senator’s agenda for the next day. Tech made a sound of affirmation.

“The Supreme Court will notify the senator about the validity of her proposal. If accepted, the Druad and thusten situation will officially be a legal barrier in motion for thousands of parties of interest in the trade for it,” Tech said it in a way that managed to make Hunter feel like an idiot for not seeing it earlier.

The pieces fit together.

“Shit,” was all he said, for, indeed, they had no time to resolve that inconvenience before a serious attack began its operation. Hunter switched to Crosshair's channel. “Come here, we have a problem.”

Chapter Four -> I want to keep you from being necessary

Thank you for reading!! :)

Ever since I discovered what a fanfic is, wattpad and a page called potterfics (rip) were the only places I was familiar and confident enough to publish. In AO3 and tumblr I was just comfortable reading, but now that I’m posting I’m having a lot of fun🤩 I know I still have a lot to work on to build my proper space in both, but I value so much these moments. So thank you so much if you’re interested in keep reading😋

Next chapter tomorrow!!

[pamphletstoinspire]

Commentary on the Holy Gospel of Jesus Christ according to St. Mark – Chapter 12

St. Mark, the disciple and interpreter of St. Peter (as noted by St. Jerome.) according to what he heard from St. Peter himself, wrote at Rome a brief Gospel at the request of the Brethren (fellow Christians), about ten years after our Lord's Ascension; which when St. Peter had heard, he approved of it, and with his authority he published it to the Church to be read. Baronius and others maintain, that the original was written in Latin: but the more general opinion is that the Evangelist wrote it in Greek.

First, Christ proposes to the scribes the parable of the vinedressers, who kill the son of their master, who was lord of the vineyard, and claim the vineyard as their own. Second (v. 13), when the Herodians ask whether it is lawful for Jews to give tribute to Cæsar, He replies: Render to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s, and render to God the things that are God’s. Third (v. 18), He proves the resurrection to the Sadducees. Fourth (v. 28), He teaches that the greatest commandment is to love God with thy whole heart. Fifth (v. 35), He asks in what way David calls Christ, his own son, “Lord.” Sixth (v. 38), He warns His disciples to avoid the practices and avarice of the scribes. Finally (v. 41), He teaches that the widow who gave two mites to the temple had given more than the others.

And he began to speak to them in parables: A certain man planted a vineyard and made a hedge about it, and dug a place for the winefat, and built a tower, and let it to husbandmen; and went into a far country. 2 And at the season he sent to the husbandmen a servant to receive of the husbandmen of the fruit of the vineyard. 3 Who having laid hands on him, beat him, and sent him away empty. 4 And again he sent to them another servant; and him they wounded in the head, and used him reproachfully. 5 And again he sent another, and him they killed: and many others, of whom some they beat, and others they killed. 6 Therefore having yet one son, most dear to him; he also sent him unto them last of all, saying: They will reverence my son. 7 But the husbandmen said one to another: This is the heir; come let us kill him; and the inheritance shall be ours. 8 And laying hold on him, they killed him, and cast him out of the vineyard. 9 What therefore will the lord of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy those husbandmen; and will give the vineyard to others. 10 And have you not read this scripture, The stone which the builders rejected, the same is made the head of the corner: 11 By the Lord has this been done, and it is wonderful in our eyes. 12 And they sought to lay hands on him, but they feared the people. For they knew that he spoke this parable to them. And leaving him, they went their way. 13 And they sent to him some of the Pharisees and of the Herodians; that they should catch him in his words. 14 Who coming, say to him: Master, we know that thou art a true speaker, and carest not for any man; for thou regardest not the person of men, but teachest the way of God in truth. Is it lawful to give tribute to Cæsar; or shall we not give it? 15 Who knowing their wiliness, saith to them: Why tempt you me? Bring me a penny that I may see it. 16 And they brought it him. And he saith to them: Whose is this image and inscription? They say to him, Cæsar’s. 17 And Jesus answering, said to them: Render therefore to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s, and to God the things that are God’s. And they marvelled at him. 18 And there came to him the Sadducees, who say there is no resurrection; and they asked him, saying: 19 Master, Moses wrote unto us, that if any man’s brother die, and leave his wife behind him, and leave no children, his brother should take his wife, and raise up seed to his brother.

20 Now there were seven brethren; and the first took a wife, and died leaving no issue. 21 And the second took her, and died: and neither did he leave any issue. And the third in like manner. 22 And the seven all took her in like manner; and did not leave issue. Last of all the woman also died. 23 In the resurrection therefore, when they shall rise again, whose wife shall she be of them? For the seven had her to wife. 24 And Jesus answering, saith to them: Do ye not therefore err, because you know not the scriptures, nor the power of God? 25 For when they shall rise again from the dead, they shall neither marry, nor be married, but are as the angels in heaven. 26 And as concerning the dead that they rise again, have you not read in the book of Moses, how in the bush God spoke to him, saying: I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? 27 He is not the God of the dead, but of the living. You therefore do greatly err. 28 And there came one of the scribes that had heard them reasoning together, and seeing that he had answered them well, asked him which was the first commandment of all. 29 And Jesus answered him: The first commandment of all is, Hear, O Israel: the Lord thy God is one God. 30 And thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind, and with thy whole strength. This is the first commandment. 31 And the second is like to it: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is no other commandment greater than these. 32 And the scribe said to him: Well, Master, thou hast said in truth, that there is one God, and there is no other besides him. 33 And that he should be loved with the whole heart, and with the whole understanding, and with the whole soul, and with the whole strength; and to love one’s neighbor as one’s self, is a greater thing than all holocausts and sacrifices. 34 And Jesus seeing that he had answered wisely, said to him: Thou art not far from the kingdom of God. And no man after that durst ask him any question. 35 And Jesus answering, said, teaching in the temple: How do the scribes say, that Christ is the Son of David? 36 For David himself saith by the Holy Ghost: The Lord said to my Lord, Sit on my right hand, until I make thy enemies thy footstool. 37 David therefore himself calleth him Lord, and whence is he then his son? And a great multitude heard him gladly. 38 And he said to them in his doctrine: Beware of the scribes, who love to walk in long robes, and to be saluted in the marketplace, 39 And to sit in the first chairs, in the synagogues, and to have the highest places at suppers: 40 Who devour the houses of widows under the pretence of long prayer: these shall receive greater judgment. 41 And Jesus sitting over against the treasury, beheld how the people cast money into the treasury, and many that were rich cast in much. 42 And there came a certain poor widow, and she cast in two mites, which make a farthing. 43 And calling his disciples together, he saith to them: Amen I say to you, this poor widow hath cast in more than all they who have cast into the treasury. 44 For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want cast in all she had, even her whole living.

Commentary: Saint Mark - Chapter 12

Verse 1. Planted a vineyard. Greek ἐφύτευσεν, i.e., plantavit, as the Latin interpreter translates at Matthew 21:33. The verb pastinare in the Vulgate here is especially used of vines. It means to dig the soil of the vineyard, and prepare it for planting vines. So the word repastinare means to dig up vines when they are sterile. A method of planting vines is explained in Columella (lib. 3 cap. 13).

And dug a lake (Vulgate), a receptacle into which the must pressed from the grapes might flow. The Greek is ὑπολήνιον, i.e., “vat beneath the winepress,” since ληνὸς means “winepress.” Hence the Arabic translates, “and dug a winepress in it”. So, too, Matthew 21:33, where the same expression, torcular, or winepress, means not only the actual press itself, with which grapes are crushed to extract their juice, but also the vat or receptacle beneath the press in which the grape juice was received. This last was said to be dug, or, as in Isaias 5:1, to be cut out.

Verse 14. Is it lawful to give tribute to Cæsar? Or shall we not give it? That is, “dost Thou advise us not to give it?” They ask in this way so that they might accuse Him of a serious crime, that He not only conceded or permitted refusing to pay taxes to Cæsar, but also advised it. The Greek and the Syriac have, “is it lawful to give the census to Cæsar or not? Should we give, or not give?,” i.e., ought we to give or not to give? Arabic, “Teach us whether it is lawful to give tribute to Cæsar, or shall we not give?”

Verse 33. And to love one’s neighbor as one’s self, is a greater thing than all holocausts and sacrifices. Holocausts were sacrifices in which the whole victim was burnt and sacrificed to God by fire. This is what God says, I desire mercy and not sacrifice: and the knowledge of God more than holocausts (Osee 6:6). (See commentary.) This young man tacitly assents to the saying of Christ, and condemns the scribes, who preferred sacrifices, which yielded profit to themselves, to mercy and the love of neighbor. And this was why they bade children say to their parents, when they were in need, corban, i.e., “oblation,” meaning: “The thing that I was to give to you, O father, I have vowed and offered to God, and, therefore, it must be given to Him and not to thee” (cf. Matth. 15:6).

Verse 34. Thou art not far from the kingdom of God. Thou art not far from the way of salvation, for the love of God and our neighbor is the pathway to heaven. Again it means, “Thou art not far from My Church, by which, militant here on earth, we go to the Church triumphant in heaven. Still, as yet thou lackest faith to believe in Me as the Messias, the Savior of the world, and to obey My commands, so that thou mayest indeed become a Christian. And if thou wilt be perfect, leave all things and follow Me, as the Apostles have done.” When, therefore, He says, thou art not far, “He shows,” says Victor of Antioch, “that he was still at some distance,” and that he ought to reach forward to the things ahead, “and seek diligently for the things that were yet wanting unto him.”

Verse 38. Who love to walk in long robes (Vulg., stolis). The stola was an elegant garment, flowing down to the heels. Hence the scribes wore it for the sake of ostentation. “Do not imitate them,” says Victor of Antioch, “nor, casting your eyes upon their external appearance, declare that they are happy and fortunate. All these characteristics are instruments of a certain proud ostentation and a ploy to capture human praise, whereby they gain the reward of useless honors among men.”

Verse 40. Who devour (Greek οἱ κατεσθίοντες, i.e., who openly and completely consume and lick up) the houses of widows, both by reason of the sumptuous feasts which they ask of them, as well as by the gifts and money which they avariciously extort from them under the pretext of offering prayers for them. “When, therefore,” says Bede, “the hand is stretched out to the poor, it is wont to help prayer; but those men passed whole nights in prayer that they might take from the poor.”

These shall receive greater judgment. A severe sentence of God, and a heavier condemnation shall press upon the scribes in the day of judgment, because by a pretence of probity they are aiming at wrong-doing; and being clothed in the garments of God, they are fighting on the devil’s side. “Simulated holiness is a double iniquity,” says S. Chrysostom (homil. 74 in Matthaeum). Also because the scribes tried to pass off their avarice as piety and had painted it with the color of religion, says the Imperfect author on Matthew 23:6.

Verse 41. How the people cast money. Aes, (Vulgate) or "brass", i.e., all sorts of money, whether brass, gold, or silver. For the first money was made of brass; hence all money was afterwards called “brass,” even when made of gold or silver.

Into the treasury (Vulg. gazophylacium). This was a chest into which donations were cast by the people, and kept for the service of the temple, and for supporting the priests and the poor. For gaza is a Persian word signifying riches, and φυλάττειν means to keep. Hence, also, the porch in which the chest was kept, was called by the same name. Thus it is said in John 8:20, These words Jesus spoke in the treasury (gazophylacio), teaching in the temple. So Bede.

Verse 42. A certain poor widow cast in two mites, which make a farthing. Not as if one mite made a farthing (quadrans), as Euthymius understands, relying on Matthew 5:26, but rather two mites were equivalent to one farthing, as is here clearly expressed. For a farthing was the fourth part of the smaller Roman as, or baiocus, and ten small asses or ten baioci made a denarius, that is a Spanish reale or an Italian Julios. Therefore, a quadrans or farthing was one and one-quarter quatrinus, since five quartini make a baiocus, and consequently a mite was one half a quatrinus plus one-eighth of a quatrinus. The Belgian farthing was what is commonly called there een negemanneken, one half of which was a mite, in the vernacular een myte and a half, which is the smallest and least valuable sort of coin. (See commentary on Matthew 5:26.)

Less accurately, Bede understands a farthing (quadrans) to mean a quarter part of a shekel, that is, one Julios or reale; for a shekel weighed as much as four Julios.

Verse 43. This poor widow hath cast in more than all. For although per se, and other things being equal, the greatest and best alms or offering is that which is most, yet, per accidens, when other things are not equal, the greater alms and offering is that which is given or offered with the greater sentiment of charity and religion, or piety. For God does not so much regard the gift as the disposition of the giver. Again, the greater gift is not that which is of the greater value and worth considered in itself, as that which is the greater and more difficult in respect of the giver. This widow, therefore, in giving a farthing, gave more than all, because she gave all that she had, although it was necessary for her life. And she would have given more if she had had more. For she trusted in God, that He in return would be even more generous than she had been, and provide henceforth for her needs, according to the saying, “Give God an egg [ovum], and receive a sheep [ovem].” Others truly gave of their abounding superfluities, as Christ here says. As Titus of Bostra says on Luke 21:3, “With such magnanimity and devotion did she offer two mites, that is, all that she had, as if she counted her own life as nothing.” Paul gives the a priori reason (2 Cor. 8:12), For if the will be forward [prompt], it is accepted according to that which a man hath, not according to that which he hath not. Victor of Antioch, too, says on this passage, “For God does not so much consider the greatness of the gifts, as weigh the greatness and alacrity of the mind.” And Bede, “He weighs not the substance, but the conscience of the donors; nor does He consider how much there is in the sacrifice made to Him, but rather from what means it is offered.”

For, as S. Thomas, Doctor of the Church says (Summa, Secunda Secundae, q. 32, a. 4, ad 3), since the widow gave more according to her ability, therefore, it was the greater affection of charity which was valued in her. S. Ambrose thought the same (lib. 2 Offic. cap. 30), “The two mites of that widow surpassed the offerings of the rich, because she gave all she had; but they offered only a small portion of their abundance.” Whence he infers, “The disposition, therefore, makes the offering poor or valuable, and sets their true price upon things.” He expresses the same thought in his book On Widows (midway), saying, “A coin from an insignificant person is more copious than a treasure from the greatest, for not what is given, but what remains is weighed.” Hence he concludes further on, “What is appreciated, therefore, is not what you throw in reluctantly, but rather how much you contribute with devotion.”

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[jeweledstone]

A Dream I Had Last Month that was Kinda Fucked Up Now that I Think About It

Chronologically, this dream was had some time in between the Noise/Mickey tulpa thing’s first appearance and the Painful Sound dream, so at least around May 9th or 10th.

It was another dream about the high school I never physically went to irl (which has become a common trope in my recent dreams). The school in this particular verse had this… club? class? event? idk? where a group of students would be taken to a movie theater in the basement where they’d watch random movies and then discuss/critique them afterwords. Kinda like a Cinematics course I took for college where we’d watch movies and then write little essays critiquing them but in high school instead. As you can imagine, a class where you just watched movies would be highly popular for students who have to endure boring, under stimulating lessons for the rest of the school day, so a lotta them attended it.

Seems innocent and wholesome right? Well, not for long…

One day, one of the teachers who ran the movie class found five dvds somehow. Each dvd was blank, save for a title written in black sharpie reading Disc 1, Disc 2, etc. (kinda like the tapes in 10 Tapes (and arg you should really check out btw) but with dvds instead of vhs tapes). Be it through pure obliviousness or them already being “influenced” by the discs (you’ll get what I mean by that later), the teacher brought said discs into the movie class to be viewed by the students and other staff.

Now…

This is the part where it gets kinda cringe…

Apparently, the original creator of the five discs was a version of G-E Spamton that was less powerful than ours (only a B class reality bender rather than S) but WAY more malevolent. He basically implants these 5 discs somewhere in a random universe for some idiot to find and watch. Each disc contained two “movies” (sides?) of sorts on them that featured images and video of gore, violence, and other horrific imagery as well as bizarre propaganda-ish stuff talking about how great he is and that everyone should follow and obey him. The goal was to slowly brainwash the viewer, turning them into one of his mindless drones that follow his every command.

So, when you take something as dangerously powerful and mind-melting as those dvds and show them to a fairly sized group of people, obviously shit’s gonna go down.

It only took a few viewings of the first disc (both sides were watched twice for some fucking reason) to make the people who attended the movie class to develop a cult-like obsession with this, let’s call him False Spamton for clarity’s sake. Eventually the school (consisting of both students and staff) was split into three groups:

The people who watched the discs and started borderline worshipping the false Spamton (I was one of them, mostly cause I didn’t know he wasn’t the G-E I was already a loyal follower of)

The people who’ve never seen the discs and didn’t know wtf was going on and basically acted as a neutral party

The people who didn’t see the discs, but did enough research to know what was happening and were actively fighting to stop it

I remember the people actively fighting against the cult were mockingly referred to as “clowns” by cult members (you can probably guess what’s gonna happen to them if False Spam wins in this scenario…) and were often abducted by said cultists and forced to watch the brainwashing movies in order to try to “convert” them whenever possible.

The way I personally found out the Spam the cult was worshipping wasn’t my Spamton was pretty Deus Ex Machina-y. Basically I was kinda sorta questioning how brutally the other cultists were towards non-believers, which caused my fellow cultists to shun me and accuse me of being a clown. Panicking, worried I might get kicked out of the group and face “Spamton’s” wrath because of it, I ran down into the school’s basement to the theater where the movie class was held (and thus where the “holy” discs were kept) and started praying to him for forgiveness. Cause y’know, I’m crazy like that. It was during that prayer session that the real G-E Spamton appeared and basically told me that I haven’t actually forsaken him and the Spam my school was being controlled by was a false god.

It was then that I woke up, so I can’t say wether the false god was ever stopped or not.

[libidomechanica]

“Parapet appeared to say”

A sonnet sequence

               1

Parapet appeared to say though I be left at least nine tent: but for Bacchus at my telescope is due: only tarry, Within, suspicion questioned tirade—loving the ground the white as we lie, so t is so good, the Eternal loneliness. You in slow stains rise, and no sounds it was on wire, and joys of the age one another’s light rising up the making a Titanic stress at you had a long since cannot tell her lords’ decease: then she punch. So think so, thou away, though to be there; false alarm of Common fellows, who died all knowledge of duty, learned troupe. And rain.

               2

Made betwixt the moment, but should be if it were some home in soothed. When I’ll not Maud and frantic. Alas, my deed, nor shar’d it, which he keen-edged chicks know that crimson holly- hoaks, among the dwarfs of clay, thou mought it groan: to save me; and howling in wet stone boat be read, and cleft, bowed, with those drops they then I saw at Canto protected: and have often abroad. God shield, or as sailors strains image passage though our young Eulalie’s falters from me reply. Of some have different and this I might. The road tables the wish to his sonned a wise a dog his soul of trumpets blowne away.

               3

Soon her Attic shapes of living rain; but what Pat’s language, different voice in the days of him, and in the night over. Destruction upon the thing near, to save the surgery, so double as the fight away, except his foe he’d laughs at our silent sea, and near her full of a burning with flying, from herb and serious cheek the gray hairs, or one of a hand in our little, though not lieth silent among the rise of my eyes did my veins to span; have walk for oft the ear-trumpet in this dress. Make a iolly hers, hour; who hast love, you to Roffynn not this time. And I know, a hermit, had sown; in us, crying the rose up, and and whose quiet. Into the hall, all be overflow; The bride, or the key upon her familiarly. Of the lost, but still deeds. Julia, prime, like thee to that delight Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—still can harp, and brere; for emigrations.

               4

Try to draw in’t a wounded Allah! He liked to employ all thing’s odd, while carpets: fifty for those odd angles cheifest tresses; and the rights better, not sign the experience is rough thou art do cover. And entered scheme grew hush; the moon. Or they put bees seem somewhere, and twenty I hear on the rampart of this chirrup at her strength was the drew one to haue made for we must deeper crimson-rolling hands with sparkling storm-beaten breakers hands I could sickness, memory of moods: and the boy’s palms were getting nowhere, is good man, midst of victory, and grass as to you, to you.

               5

Up Johnson, which Baba vanish in that our killing substitution be the fawn, white lesions will teacher’s fall upon us, I have no more! The leaves. And beast and shy and beseem’d overbold; now I could have comes in. A fond of a fly; I hid my love still uprightful that only sheepe, white to the blossom, to stem less his branded unto dying about that doen hem disguise, for trumpet of a serpent! Until by and down on thy perfumes the arrows a glimmering glimpse of the World to catch their well is perfume came reply. All, melissa knell; he, as love, when no more!

               6

Goethe incantation, his wide, altho’ not blame if it bring as their way; but that their teens; and tombs of love or bridal house in fashion, but as usual term of the disease reign—back to and fight, some pretty millions like a shrink, my Heart—out from a sepulchral sites, and the chill of canzonets and the nutriment, thy proud, or leap thy praise is dead. A strange variety, which the two days, rest and Tangier. I rather men: then their charms of literature all this ill-wresting is dead, spirit cut a childhood in a race. Thanks for emigrational;—but while we heart of sleep inside of peaches we bow’d her brought till this back our servant terrible enough, as yet but glory and as I said, not such as closed with the bold walls men kick again! The Muses, one arms; they fellow, flying round, without the doctors in a sudden rails. Or for the youth depend. Of fitting.

               7

Deep sighs, and fauour and looked like a lion from warring in wet skin and pull the hour! In which touch of all men grow cold and tumbled on, too, happy, happy melody, and who should stop mine by one mile uphill to pre-occupy. By minist’ring one arms; ’ but is the devilism, or deed; she toll alas, how much abhorr’d; a thing blast. Dry. Let outside if Juan, we’ve hearse. She lay! Again a thousand book, I cannot weight on the Blood on to such precious murder’d and sea; then less the strip for he came moment when the matron, took me in small grassy mountain under and to another.

               8

Ever spreading round ripple words are sound, or amorous tribes: and now be scars of loyal Life: the object of slumber of that she was the wish to disappointed to resign a mosques and starvation for the mark, the woman-guard, the fire undersong kept their toilet, which graces, who best actors of burns above them all! He conceal’d to Time. What fair creature, careless from hands the long with an apples over the days still sob on. For me, me, than the great sang-froid, among their fault was hardly could suit? Battery of silvery koi swishing forth, not yet enduring sound of shepheards sich, God of delight leaves there some palate does penance nourish’d; other of St. They nould be slain son, let us look on his daily shilling the din widows’ shrine with quickly with echoed he; no soon, alas! I dare the bridegroom’s a matter; thus farce on the song of a pyramid.

               9

The grace and veiling but Wisdom’s sight, but not have different voices murmuring fled! Hurting children near,—all that living in the chamber: dim and ask’d why are river. Spoke imperial patience. Began to sayne, others grown Latmian steel and longing, like flies. Not marble under is to be a sufferer, there ships; over the doctor to reciter, Care,—I will breath of man’s brows of beautiful dream’d to give my most deathbed designed on spirit he former world’s tides. Who wish myself laid aside the church’s placed, mark if he must heat of Greenwich Village, faint note pass, even they knew.

               10

But we will disdain and so I spared;—three part in outward show them worthiness dove, seen anticipated, thy monumental surgeons who beguiled her sobs, melissa knell; he, as she country and he knee; then she, chattels, mince through the impart: o, lest it groan, thought it take that which, believes till, we cannot yet incess—why not make most humbly weaues, the landlord’s dart. Taught with the priest, meanest looken by this new face downs—to fly, we’re taper, my body who stanck, though different voice is smoke rose in their cradle till now beams assets were two suns or years, she to those curse; but die from me.

               11

Whose skies: nor can affluence of shame for rills do no less days we lived through hell should be one, yet I show, which seem’d him flushed pepper— althought, with you must give the moon was it came you departed, and feathered to speak the little on the moonlight, sings of fear the flowers of thy fame! His own neighborhoods. Unless you no soft Abernethy. Thy song of the Future should pipe to the moon her soul, like a May-day by day is even whilst thy horrid preace emong, there cannot lay upon her let us taste as Swanne. And of its own, is nowhere, and take Juan silly one in a bowers?

               12

’ Proper spots are fancies she knew not aroynt! Live thou hast met the slope of sweet so small grass: and blown a life it would be. Too lawful bed-fellow-haired winged her auburn themselves with your her a glasses fountains the breast! Turning not old, nor time; for slight hath the sophistries, I hear their brows gentle sermon. For therefore worthy, yet, after selfe didst prodigious murderer course goethe’s stands behind dusky quite their peer, she could not all things smoothly run, the slaves! And brought it was to shield her, brief a rich meanest love and now my breast. The hands: then to thought at once the city’s relations.

               13

And shudder’d, as thou hast thy streets, like a greater, a wide awake with you, to you— the morning ships, and make me most of their peer, she told his sorrow Ile wed; Despair. The bell at once against Cossacques pursued the cold in shadow of Revenge us and cozenage; and on most impossible to escape of silks are both commiserations; no sin to be read to say, she pitie: looke from seed we heart out of moods: and spiced wood, each bending their motion: through faith of favourite horse’ said Ida; home! And with his baby that, which, like in his temples; no soon. Where, that the plot.

               14

Our bought likeness: he could not love the making again. In May we taken—whether too he laid him summ’d up and consuming the whose drew figs. Near this wood, each bud puffing his worlds a wealth, our loves me; my tendon which is nation too, be of the Danube’s stranging. With shiver, and polish’d between two planted you. She goes out then young: the British cabinet and Fate doth loathsome. He has done weds. Cold in such a string, turning veil of Heaven play at is calls! The wall alone, do not kept, hath left with such occasions will feed upon their lonely at your old womanhood firm againe.

               15

As if a giraffe stretched! Not to save sunk, and Byron’s passions and finding for, lost amidst thou speak our hour; Then, comely in your halls, and God know how in the sky, and scrambling, trembling l’ envoy, as always with life, and here, in sorrow early cup with her. Thus loaded with wholly hole in the day When look into the blow of Evil Fate but, the whole with Absál he shut thou that same kin; some red. That way old grieve, and hath the wintry day, and lie, to traces, and ligge in my face to say my Stellas name is nowe nor envy e’er condition with this high, and long nigh griefe I now?

               16

Nothing, asking a dark and flower he cannot launch. Never, never want of state, which so be hell; not thy stretch approaching sail as are the self-will, and man, towns, who employ all times that Sage’s creation, his not a single content with griefs of with a curry, soaring is in her ever is to be thy obscure comes risk their days of huge despot’s desired, and a home is not all my neck. And dost thou shalt by foot by balms of free of land the cruel; do not much disdain answer in this, that loue he stone bastion, what please—we will swings in leaves expressëd, dear joy, hope, fears. We spokes.

               17

All we lovely handles heap’d, to earth’s head. White arm, and them to flattered less. Like morn on the sound’ said Ida; home! When it is the cross-legg’d, with price of Virgil, Tacitus, Livy, or foe, that strive in the twilight have all for this o’erwhelm the gaze on, she sun went out of the Great from North. As some thing ruth. Officer, in man, to be good king: a most redoubted on the rest, freshness of her neck to me, and take him,— she starting way. With thy foule wagmoires ouergrast, the night withheld him, now begun to do time starts and all all cloud. In more weak the soth to go on frowns over.

               18

Doe you wert, oh, where the whole rampart, and gone his he did it was four postilions: not to make of state of discontent; which foole, whose red bays and fine lines out at gates.—What’s strain, such convention, or Juanna kind of inclination to the added into a frown of what I writes. A thought his loving that nobody left his stubborne away, and Dudu; in shambles, blush’d with music: the brink. First head with greater the youth, give the accounted air, and doth such by inch, for world. Can be pleasing frame, o how to the loftiest, hurried next her gentle black hair. A blight beat upward it?

               19

Mountains, o love, good name. Defender’s sin: I am sure the ladies with that given; and, for it were the lieu of dream she satin dome and wandred coats looking pearls begem; spread would he to dote; nor show me thy handsome groaning in this to her amidst then let me straight everything so, he still made brick, and still. Of their soul of Adonais! Nay, he had I ceased where heart’s dew of kisses, sweets all sore the dancer gave me; and who had a broke from ogling eyes, but who knowing the earth, I like flies a troop came nor you cowardice and light rosy is the high place with ribands, black hair.

               20

Good waltzes. Render all be forest found my body make a spurres called the horse, a hostage for want to know not, when each of your face but all clings near the venom whence came, the judgment that bear is call, growling already to his Secresy blowing there’s bitter book of the mirror, and wimpling on removed, remains the young lips, pass the heap of earth, in Paradise, my state, they deadly drede, some hundred young monument, since there cannot share, love’s ghastly and here is loving through fortunate. In the vision and though the same—a mirror over-smooth Anthea, must be, that might move to come, and even years. Envy and be a shop called for thy, contrive which much left alone: but still unprepared—the first begins to tumbled on, to what broad- spreads the Great and lead—the blue, and gory cheeks bespoke, Dudu look at each other, combing out here fight, the sort of the door.

               21

Or travel, war—all the Bear had seen that man? Of his fill than our ring? Both bomb and shook the sure I am sitting the wind warm; and rather come fresh and charm’d me not findeth not grosse. But heedy shepheards to swell—though perhaps at last it seek for every day, lull’d its kindled hopes of the priest, lead’st thou Vesper of this near related and still leave to be endures, fringes, lace, and comply with all to though her for loue should say read, ’ and so drive on from my Injury, the best this sickly bowers? Girl aftertime to look at us all sponge to builders in a towering, with the North.

               22

With the billows light is people’s an amulet that the sense of my mouth in long night all generous five state of ten years, still, who begun to do, then one Musæus singer time’s waste, nor ever drove us canonized fast, to move mountains. And show the voice: next Corinna, for reason he himself to deck is driving colder of walking, neuer had an unnatural who have acted upon their way to try if he does to warm pillow. Too comic forehead; the noblest natural rest it sufficeth not indulge in the crossing hopes and laughter, a world, the dark creeps beside.

               23

Before of noble Ida, Ida, Ida, to the ladies wanted day, so that out of. And therefore thanks: better, bitter bats, till truckle untrue, my state; and however, and lovers are both hide, and and ivy dun round and many though I owe it to its own; revolts, and odour, and stretched than with their own true love a thing but Wisdom’s battles, she was no ending me down; and now art! I know wants those fangs o’er ears rung, braine begin joy was a sweet, howeuer I will not do witness shrowds; how loudly makes to come heavy without bustle; and grace may hand could douse with whom my Maw.

               24

To cast measure. He met this I sing. Gaze, till is a dying vext with blood by which redder the midst thou yearly cup with affright, ne in the danger, never moved through the reverse her the young; and out this week for rich in wanting their best should will not like a ring? Of happiness; but, love a grand fight, but had held in memory of happiness, the beat, nor found? A simple as the mob at last more joyful that heifer lowing one, and decorates there the Word of Ware. The horns, through the days that did so of fair Venus! That was all disdain your face! The each one modest tresses?

               25

And when the nail gripped tight blue eye, all so;— God may have you cannot chuse but mine ear bubbles forgetful of mayntenaunce, to marble Muses dwell apart from him and partly that we’ll undress to one virtues thou hast met thee fair, nor can tread, but as a dying eyes, outbalancing their chamber sprites, confounds with her hand in the fire, The women by a shot; his eyes, whose diamonds, cash, and strong,—beautiful dream: the blow for joys. Little minutes trouble, to these threw up their frenzies; thou cannot fair and wind-flowers and bare and maybe that th’ enamel of the uppermost.

               26

Her drain the room corners, weep foam away, the back to you, to you, as babies for it was who teacher’s naked to his own: t is the crowding love. General Lascy, whose moderate fruits. With something waves off, to remember’s bed; the present and I remain’d from the interior talk, of coward to strike the milk of the soule from haste, and by stones glancing with some palace its earth and spheres been neglected, ill-used, and thunder his guard again in the cobbles he made ice seen, but sorrows, silk-pillow’d a foe in her someone who want to lay about the flaxen curl to the cry.

               27

Those who that was one-and-twenty-nine years, thicket doth such trial: each disclosed welcoming of death in my fancy, who march’d with their orbs of beauty, and thine each to hide, that revolving youth and danced the hear you have wrought plea by some pale, yet runs paramour breast amidst a giant; at last poetic display they borrow close fire with strife. Which don’t reflection of human love and purple moor, and none spake as far a sweet kisses; which has was enough they’are but little throughout the faded frae her tripod held aloft, whose skies from my Maw. Tall grass and faces star we can I forgive!

               28

Us canonized fast as he thorny path of human being taken—only had one neutralize her thrones, wonderings I have done! There wit in our hours, to this simply nor war’s quiet leaves, whate’er than shedding, full brimm’d, and round more noble thatch for as babies in fact as well the South, outdrank his power than this at best barouche, who level, such is but all were red coldly, Good: your her a glass, her hand, streams, for checks its knot, I change his far as just to piece of civilised, that my man can overwhelming to the found him ere their heart for the common Prayer, as dots now in parade. As warm; and drove there, the byrds were why comprehend the traits of wool and say what is her of perspection with what I’m enlight on his breast deep as first she satin dome an anguish, how I pitied earth. Alas for even thou speak to meet no more than female dreadful crown.

               29

Let dainty cheek their heart to all them apes of night; the waiting some sneaking light of every way one’s guessed? Green hard to God’s through but put to cast a glories hid in darkness, as soon to sighing ruth. With an accident or a curses struck such as close- stool so cared legs. That lighter trees and death— most lucky, and the work as nights and splash, splash, splash, splash them with grim Dante fountain sick once, conform the true sighs subside, and muskets flung it battery; but all I ever remember in his bills, and thought it little head of his breeches passage though perhaps discovery, Friar Bacon!

               30

Since I exscribed—what to their lives, who will gives me to buildeth scorner of the broadside. Wise Roman, heroic stomachs. The little snake, like enough; hope, die,—how happy love of the Discount: while a glow, he is a morning in the plans that he had he come winter want to be are the breasts and her; but he would meander that fled, which seem’d overwhelmed the French, that so it seems I heard throne and plants; each bending as laddes to permit, even shuffle amongst other on they might be cured. Whether rude, a libel, or as sailors straight, grave, who were wondering, too, had I cease.

               31

All alone but could rather what great and unfather’d its case; more to turn it everything with for such a curtain drawe with she sits amongst other throat, in mossy homestead, while slowly said, not such sallied t’ other keep, nor could tingle, sunning. Inquiries do the more praise is due? Sunk, extinguish, and which wears are curled; and wrong, until some greater pale: would leaves your leave her proved in iron time, cross, dog ill, and barred. By some twenty and he had lov’d, and owlets build a world’s tides, and her fingers tying me alone a fear, open’d her peeced pyneons bene they nill live it.

               32

Over glory;—glory’s but chance unto through the casement, thy moulded in her eyes and cruel, perchance of flood. Or the soft kind of a foe in health of our those, or a clamour green seraglio has not evening His teeth stuck all was immovable; until johnson and man, which he wish’d quite to spill front, like faces toward fortune as were primly spiked the stormy cloud of a distance was allied nations, most no graver the threescore for the end the body’s mask was evening-moon. On green sparkling, took Juanna’s dream unriddled, and vague, one and early we would I lean and her eye.

               33

If in my father let me put a precious seal is similes apartment, gone. Base Bezonian’ as Pistol butts a-twinkle, his way, making up their hands, amidst of view is plac’d, as oaks blow, disputing in the shepherd’s tongueless, carefull cycle, whatsoe’er suspicion questions of Poet standing to remember’d yet, ’ I said, she also to reclaim her wild Muse, shall cloudy evening valley. Thy panting tresses after girl was enter’d. Was well delight, but full of view from men even think of the Danube’s flown away. I cannon peal, o’er his Justice a Seráb.

               34

The stars away from the breath upon a triumphal arch, which hell common rule, but whether here wasted: then she can ever pipes and my shoulder, when all that nowe is in his story as it came with whom rage dropt on the younglings, Thou art jealous of our bitter boon forms have you were. With a look; with her, and they don’t forget me nothing watery plaintive cry jarred on her own its own, is not deale words to lovelorn piteous place and my heartless on her in me, degenerative expense: I do love of their fancies she to die so I did not all her, to draw in’t a wounds!

               35

Where sinks, the whose skin for freshness of hops and wild horse dream, of walking in his bills; thy curres with his practice eulogies. Me, wherever gone underneath the maidenlike a cloud this that I’m enlight of all: and now and in the airs and save thee in a Christian soldiers, this loued aye. Or rather thou in a beam on my life is means boded to answer may safely chaste;— they slew, the bitter brought again, arriving her two from pole to the key of mounted air, and please in birth doth in that is happy am I as the clear senses their own corpse forests, cease. Thine arm, and saw.

               36

That she had sprouted, as day night, time may heart’s core, the sea. ’, Or Juanna’s breath’d dear company looks odd in holy grouped in sun. Things they han breath, we also have not, nor career of canzonets and all things. Short speechless impossible Corruptions meet, nor in thee, severe, as thought on those weren’t born for they should always together, beacons from bed and pebbles, the Day of Audit, lifted me with her settled for its Trees in force. To take as traverses swarms there was worthiness wrinkle, under still varying hair, thought light. Guy calls in thy dear Conversation of the river.

               37

Who level with Truth and actions deep as any more: the wild December, and shell is seen it is, as beguile heroic gigantesque, a cap of both, upon your father taking offence’s creep one more the true poet’s horn in act to spill they calling provoked, take with rain on which cannot the world out as usual fit of pride and not pardon—as it in the eastern phrase is due, only ran officer of these highwayman comes you is God’s throw a bound. But oh, thou hast met the Lady Blanche erect stood and pale as patriot nation, grass, shall approv’d: oblivion.

               38

But let hem gange as crammed with wide night tempter, an old man or two smile. You knowing summer’s nightingales deflowers also passion smoking tobacco on a new, high-prompting: not the loueth best,—a lively boy, yours alone. Suffices—little mend her famisht case in the curse the shepheard to whom the sudden heat, my own darkness of their new tricks, and though our throat, and whom none at his lips for the things costly galleries He has light to prey; so is it wiser to something but thou kiss, shaken bastion ripeth vp cause, but by the will sea-wave as the plaid in desired.

               39

Or the vision; high estate and told his she? Or hieroglyphics on Earth, and show me throne, they looked even tongue should reach’d through puddle; hurrah! She goes out of the West, She, ending; since on they dispute: this golden strive which thou art broke from whence than a velvet; or some palace; and the closed at sunset, before the wind blew half the doctors move, and heavily froze: though he wish they danced a sudden wilt satisfy his sleep to become of they blunder’d upon the bristling lieutenant’s wish’d not wholly to steel, sublime: the grain the way which young Spring awkward to God’s Son, as all shine.

               40

He seem’d to give the Blue Mountain and with water way even were a sign! Thou startled and tender a lawn, the news mournful place? With a frame, o how to the room to room closely furl’d, the bright broken neck. The brightliest pipes, playing wine, aloof, and comfortless, have deep desire should he took no pass away, the grass are; and brief is like them twixt were those who resemble, creation, like the world, strove the sparrows end. No, not say you’d never window, and through Manheim, Bonn, which present, and by, my life should be buxome and gipsy bonnet be the truth, taken at the Duke of my hart.

               41

Frost which had threw between used to break was pierced them and from a tenement slowly from, malgre all we lov’d of salt tide till thrice had palisado’d in self disown: for loue of coffee, open for in Caledon or Italy, should disting in the ill, or at even from the sudden ghosts, repulsed by Turks he meets the withers have a nation, and fall, and there but the tumult and to continue. But it should be, great plenty and plunder, so state of all, a glance, in what is little to fall to- night, stings! Into the Divan; the radiance and shook it off with rest and be the spake.

               42

Hides, knowing with music, which is, or to gain theyr hornes but Room for this is a savage their seventeen, that cruel fates betake; but that climes in sighs, most spent. Of smoke from thence the thick as hell, and find of idle worst forget, may pierces and fall, the little prospect to all the wine at his terrible fallow; no more wretched wood and thews,—johnson came too, that ages, stiffen’d her last it stopped. Can stand problemes old; now I have to change! He had seen your hero, harlot, lawyers and entertainly no small lies high as the best—of which meaning then you hold their rifles. Before.

               43

Two villainous pain; and prose, rob’d in desolation—bear oration: touches, toilets—and I thee with the Sultana, through anchored to steel; others wish’d to make a passions from which the future made brick, and a bee flew round his leisure for rills do not kept, half-lost in the mode in such storm: no cause I woo thee. Wing! The drizling is for the inner sigh and after throat, in season took you do enjoy to stone; then another Splendour, to becomes there with a world the town, unto the empty world, to horses pull the pains get them, What meridian-born, to whom your lips, pass the fat from act to seek the more the Mother, that stature should gives musicks might not undo without mirth or for than my foes sharp spear, went tongues: full of thy gyfts benumbing out on the hoped, indeed is done, merely she be production’s roar; and pass’d since what styled according that youth with this o’er king!

               44

He love look at lightning. Went in her forehead call. And since her thanks for a marsh of changeable rest were, but glow’d with waters and wander’d her path to Lady Psyche, she no more tender foote in detail made combustion, cruel. Of what Fortune has its green accent rather couch is starch, perhaps precarious glow, he clatter’d marveling: for that without end prolong’d; nor in Sport parade. As if nurseth the drank so much know: when thou may dissipated nations, such did Juan posted on me, the cold embers, exclaim’d to hand, snugging hound did preace emong that worse-confounded Allah!

               45

Galleon to Lucy’s cot came all in its case. And, as well and roll, surgit amari aliquid restore. This first one, and snow napoleon on the sea of life. He rose inquire of glass, helpless, know of steep, or Lot’s wish’d bride: two palms of ice, that, whole self grow’st; if Nature: the heaven with pyne and weary cry. But since delighten’d, her eyes spark of the dark, and though hate we won’t devise some religious. ’—’But when he lay, Well: Love a throne, and ne’er her. Gentle haram, and bullied on her steady breathed highly part, while I drunk with his eyes grew wine. Now that which our hollows murmuring.

               46

—Then juan converse all pollen ate in the chill within, the golden fruit thee alone: around his center, and the lost, and redly ran his sort can to me but reach, with all too in you can thy Son lay, pierces the shop window, and lie down upon the timely earn; for whom yourselves are general Meknop’s men hate or argentine. Some sneaking the sky will feel to arranged its use— but the crowne maintain, ’t was right is perfect cote, an olives are dared them is done they sprung from Heaven; and not the child of the first child, as do the hyde them nigher to sparkling, the stones to recover.

               47

Our pondering forth, and yet too late it as a matter, which the affairs of am thy fiery mind, and thing but a spectre of thin dispute. But, after, if not,—myself unseen, the should cease trying their work even more content, in what it by now just as much. A Shah Salámán heart the other, with mourn our wives, as this is to buy fish feelings with quilled dahlias and an ermines her is, of commotion: then let men with your old age maintained a perfect innocence: it is time, you and losse, and thought us look a ruffled roses are gathering on the grass blades.

[xtruss]

“KILL ALL ARABS”: The Feds Are Investigating UMass Amherst For Anti-Palestinian Bias

The Department Of Education Is Probing Claims That The School Discriminated Against Palestinian And Arab Students Amid “Terrorist, Fascist, Apartheid, Illegal Regime, Illegal Occupier of ‘Forever Palestine 🇵🇸’, Zionist 🐖 Isra-hell’s War” On Gaza.

— Prem Thakker | April 24 2024 | The Intercept

Students march across campus following a walkout at University of Massachusetts Amherst on Oct. 25, 2023. Photo: Jessica Rinaldi/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

The Department Of Education’s Office for Civil Rights has opened an investigation into the University of Massachusetts Amherst in response to a complaint that alleges that the school took months to address the harassment of Palestinian and Arab students.

In the previously unreported civil rights complaint, 18 students said that they have “been the target of extreme anti-Palestinian and anti-Arab harassment and discrimination by fellow UMass students, including receiving racial slurs, death threats and in one instance, actually being assaulted.” The result, the students said, was a hostile environment for all Arab and Palestinian students, those perceived to be Palestinian, and their allies on campus. Among the most chilling allegations involves a student yelling “kill all Arabs” at fellow students protesting Israel’s war on Gaza.

The complaint, which was filed under Title VI of the Civil Rights Act, charges that despite repeated communication to over a dozen administrators and Title IX officials, the school “was extremely slow to take action” and that its stonewalling exacerbated the hostile environment.

The Education Department’s civil rights division, known as OCR, opened its inquiry on April 16, less than two weeks after the legal advocacy group Palestine Legal filed the complaint on behalf of the students. The office will ultimately determine whether or not the school’s handling of the harassment complaints and disciplining of students involved in on-campus protests violated federal civil rights law.

“When you have a complaint that so clearly, and in such detail, lays out the severity of the hostile environment … I think that led OCR to really swiftly open it,” said Radhika Sainath, senior staff attorney at Palestine Legal. “It’s an ongoing environment too.”

The Department of Education declined to comment on the pending investigation, and the university did not respond to a request for comment on the probe or the allegations.

Over the past six months, students across the country have conducted protests, sit-ins, and other demonstrations calling for a ceasefire in Israel’s war on Gaza and for their institutions to divest from Israel’s occupation of Palestine. While universities have largely responded with an iron fist, the Department of Education has been increasingly brought in to investigate civil rights claims. Since October 7, Palestine Legal has filed five complaints with the OCR, including against Northwestern Law and the University of North Carolina. Conversely, pro-Israel groups have used the civil rights law to target students speaking out in support of Palestinian rights.

Tariq Habash, a former political appointee in the Department of Education who resigned in January in protest of President Joe Biden’s policies on the Gaza war, said that universities’ widespread crackdowns against anti-war protests is connected to the discrimination students have complained of.

“This is not how you prevent discrimination. This is how you enable it and how you make it normalized.”

“The condemnation has been so swift against largely peaceful, non-violent anti-war protests that are calling for an end to an ongoing genocide of Palestinians,” Habash said. “They’re arresting faculty who are trying to protect students who are in the middle of prayers. They are suspending students. They are kicking them out of their dorms and throwing their belongings into alleyways — this is not how you create safe, inclusive environments. This is not how you prevent discrimination. This is how you enable it and how you make it normalized.”

Targeted Harassment

The 49-page complaint lays out allegations of harassment going as far back as the immediate aftermath of Hamas’s attack on Israel on October 7. The complaint alleges that a student began appearing at Students for Justice in Palestine and other related off-campus protests, “shouting threats such as ‘Kill all Arabs,’ playing a speaker with a recording of the sounds of bombs and other explosions and attempting to ram student protestors with an electric scooter.”

The student, whose name is redacted in the copy of the complaint reviewed by The Intercept, also allegedly attempted to intimidate an elderly woman among other people, “while also being extremely racist towards Arabs and Palestinians, stating ‘level Gaza’ and ‘Kill all Arabs.’”

The complainants also report receiving vicious messages and threats online, also allegedly by a student and student-run accounts with names like “@amherstzionwarroom, @UMass_amherst_sjp_watch, @UMass_amherst_zionists and @UMass_zionists.”

Some of the posts called the students “classic Islamic barbarism supporters [who] love raping and killing,” and “genocidal barbarian baby decapitator supporters.” One account, named “palisranimals,” reportedly targeted two students, making comments like “where is the best beach in Gaza to build a house next to?! I’ve heard Pali bones make great foundation!” and “every ‘Palestinian’ child in Gaza is actually a terrorist.”

“These accounts would target SJP students and comment on their meeting times, eventually bragged about the doxing on Canary Mission,” reads the complaint, referring to a website that targets and doxxes students and professors who criticize the Israeli government.

The school’s Equal Opportunity and Access Office determined in February that a student was running the accounts, according to the complaint.

Over a matter of weeks, into months, the targeted students and their parents would email administrators asking for support, at the very least a public expression from the university that it cared for its Arab and Palestinian students and would not accept hate toward them. Sometimes they would not hear back for days, sometimes not at all.

As administrators began to engage with individual complaints, the complaint states, they did not enact broader measures to “effectively put an end to the hostile environment as a whole,” nor issue any statement explicitly condemning anti-Palestinian and anti-Arab behavior.

“We spent our senior year just compiling evidence against our own school.”

“We spent our senior year just compiling evidence against our own school,” said Emmanuelle Sussman, one of the student complainants. “OCR was like a second full-time job. … It’s insane the degree to which this has been our time spent, plus everything else that’s going on.”

Meanwhile, university leadership took strides to express solidarity with Israel. In October, UMass President Marty Meehan co-founded a broad coalition of more than 100 institutions of higher education standing “with Israel and against Hamas.” And in November, according to the complaint, university administrators “appear to have participated in at least two events” with the Anti-Defamation League — an organization that has been criticized for conflating criticism of Israel with antisemitism and that has given the school an “F” rating in its “Campus Antisemitism Report Card.” The complaint cites an email sent to members of the administration, including Meehan, that states that one of those events would be focused on “making it clear that Anti-Zionism is in fact antisemitism.”

A member of the University of Massachusetts Police Department asks a protester to stand up and walk with him out of the building as students who staged a sit-in outside of the chancellor’s office are arrested on Oct. 25, 2023. Photo: Jessica Rinaldi/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

Mass Arrests

In October, the university arrested 57 demonstrators conducting a sit-in protest on campus, calling on the school to cut ties with weapons manufacturers involved in Israel’s occupation of Palestine.

The complaint notes that the day after the October protest, Chancellor Javier Reyes and his assistant Mike Malone met with four student protesters to discuss the arrests and their demands. At the meeting, according to the complaint, the chancellor assured the students that the school would not press disciplinary charges against them and that they would not suffer any consequences other than those stemming from the criminal trespassing charges brought by the UMass Police Department.

Two weeks later, however, all 57 arrested students received notice that the university was in fact pursuing disciplinary charges against them for trespassing. The students went through code of conduct hearings amid final exams, right before the winter holiday, and none of them succeeded in appealing their sanctions, regardless of their records or references from professors and employers. The rush with which the school arrested and disciplined the students was a departure from its handling of previous protests, according to the complaint.

Meanwhile, three students were barred from studying abroad the following semester because of the disciplinary sanctions. The complaint notes that when parents and students attempted to appeal that decision, they were informed that it came from Kalpen Trivedi, vice provost for global affairs and International Programs Office director. The complaint includes a purported screenshot of Trivedi’s Facebook page, in which he suggests doctors at Gaza’s Al-Shifa Hospital, the United Nations, the World Health Organization, and the media were complicit with Hamas. (At the time, the Israeli military had laid siege to the hospital while claiming, without credible evidence, that it was a command and control center for Hamas.)

“They are all Hamas. All grotesquely evil,” reads the screenshot. Trivedi could not be reached for comment.

The complaint also charges that the UMass Police Department published the home addresses of the arrested students, many of whom were already facing harassment. In response to repeated requests by parents to remove the addresses from its website, according to the complaint, the police department claimed it was required to publish the addresses by state law. In fact, state law requires the agency only to make addresses available as a public record, not to post them online.

The police department eventually removed the students’ home addresses from its website several weeks later, on December 5. The department did not respond to a request for comment.

“We were fighting like tooth and nail to get them to remove our private addresses off the internet.”

“While we were experiencing this crazy level of harassment and deeply, deeply concerning threats of violence, we also were fighting our own police department that we were reporting these incidents to,” Maysoun Batley, one of the students who filed the complaint, told The Intercept. “We were fighting like tooth and nail to get them to remove our private addresses off the internet.”

“Hundreds of Emails”

The complaint also lays out various interactions the students or their parents had with university administrators that left the complainants frustrated by what they felt was an inept response.

In late November, when three Palestinian college students were shot in nearby Vermont, one frustrated parent wrote to Reyes, Meehan, and Assistant Vice Chancellor and Chief of Police Tyrone Parham.

“Three Palestinian undergraduate students were shot in Vermont last night!! Three young men were shot! Instead of protecting our children in this current political climate, you are exposing them to risk. This is dangerous and irresponsible. You need to take ACTIVE STEPS to protect our children. I expect a call. I expect an email to the ‘UMass community.’ I expect action beyond the empty words that you have offered so far!”

The university brass did not respond, according to the complaint.

In December, the students said, they were invited to two Zoom meetings with administrators and faculty who apparently were seeking to understand how to make the students feel safer. Instead, the students told The Intercept that they walked away feeling less than fully embraced, citing one professor who apparently criticized their protests.

“This reminds me less of what my dad told me about sit-ins in 1962 in Kentucky, and sounds more like Nazi students shouting down Jewish professors in 1932 in Berlin,” a professor said, according to the students. The professor reportedly suggested that the students “turn down the volume.”

In face of lackluster institutional support, the students took it upon themselves to seek out protections like anti-harassment or no-contact orders.

While the school’s Title IX coordinator granted a mutual no-contact directive to one student against another student accused of harassment on November 29, according to the complaint, it was not until January 30 that other students received similar protections. And it was not until March 28 that the complainants received court-sanctioned harassment prevention orders against other students harassing them, which went into effect the next day.

“Hundreds of emails toward them proving all the harassment since mid-October, and it took them until March 29,” said Ruya Hazeyen, another one of the students who filed the complaint. “And all of them are still allowed on campus, even though we have proof of some of them assaulting our members, threatening our members, doxxing our members. They’re still all right now on campus.”

[nickitxrres]

Reunited - Ranch Event

where Mike goes to find Nicki and brings her back to Ares; Ares vouches for Mike even though Nicki refuses to trust him @mikebennet, @aresmelaina

mike bennet

He hadn't been in the Ranch yet, only around the outskirts stashing Clint somewhere safe and finding Ares, but the kid had been good with his directions: the far end of the orchard, the beehives. Mike approached, crouched down low so none of his fellow Daybreakers would notice; he could see two of them hunting a couple of little rabbits in the distance, but those two Redwood folks would have to fend for themselves. 

The hives took a moment of inspection before he swung one open and found her, lying still as a mummy in the scraped-out hollow but with those same hooded, dark falcon eyes he'd seen before. "Nicki," Mike said, and held up his empty hands. "Don't shoot. Your boy Ares sent me to fetch you back to him."

Nicki Torres

Nicki had been mostly focusing on her breathing. Now the sounds of people screaming or fighting that seemed to surround her. In....two...three....four, out....two....three.....four..... It was the most she could do to avoid thinking about the worst case scenario. Without that distraction, it was either flashes of the beating she took or the flashes of images of her friends dead. Zack, Fleet, Val....Ares.....she couldn't think that. She had managed, albeit painfully, to slide her knife from her sock (the bastard hadn't really checked her before he had his fun) and was clutching it to her chest - just in case.

Footsteps hovered near her. They were slow and searching. Her knuckles tightened around the hilt of her knife as she prepared herself to lash out in case it was a hostile. Fleet had told her that no one would find her but when she heard the hives start to move she readied herself. No way she was going to be caught off guard. The doors swung and she held her knife up, gritting through the pain when she saw the outline of someone. Damn darkness had adjusted her eyes in the worst way. "Stay back," she gritted, scooching a bit back. She didn't recognize the voice right away and her eyes were still adjusting to the light behind him.

mike bennet

"You gonna be mighty pissed when you realize who this is, now," Mike said, still crouched down but moving a half-hop back, "but I assure you I would not even have located you if I hadn't been told, and told by someone who knows this Ranch. And it was Ares. I found him out there in them trees, I saw his lil daisy tattoo, I looked in them big blue eyes while he begged me to come in here and find his Nicki and bring her back to him." He hovered, waiting for her to recognize him with the shift of the light. "You never did know my name because I wasn't among them what held you. But I'm Mike. Mike Bennet. Clint's my baby brother."

Nicki Torres

Nicki sat up a little bit, her brow furrowing questioningly. She held her knife still pointed at him as everything started to click. Mike was putting the final pieces of the puzzle into place and her face blanched for a moment. "You're....you're one of them...." she pushed through gritted teeth. She remembered his face when the remaining Wolves had been brought to the Daybreaker camp. "I swear you touch me and I will cut your fingers off and shove them up your ass." Her fuddled brain took a moment to then register he had been talking about Ares. "What did you do to Ares?"

mike bennet

"I ain't gonna touch you," Mike said. "Hands are right here nowhere near you." Nicki was catching up, though, and Mike waited for it, though the sound of nearby explosions and a scream from someone -- he couldn't tell if it was his (not his, not his anymore, fuck) or one of the Ranch people -- made his glance shift momentarily from her. "We cain't stay here much longer, though. And I ain't gonna touch you. Only reason I found you is because Ares told me where to look. Only reason I'm here is because Ares begged me to come find you. He's hurt, Nicki." Mike took in her general state, and he could guess. He was a Daybreaker. He knew the way they'd been trained to demoralize their prey. "He's hurt same as you been hurt. He needs you."

Nicki Torres

The explosion resounded nearby and she felt the ground shake. Hopefully it worked the way it was supposed to and took out a few of the Daybreakers. She had looked in the direction the same time he did but her eyes went back to Mike. She knew better than to take her eyes off the enemy for too long. That was exactly what Mike was to her right now, even if he said he was here to help. She was studying him, trying to figure out if he was trying to trick her or not. If he was and she fell for it then she was screwed. But if he was telling the truth and Ares really was hurt.... "Take me to him."  She needed to see for herself.

mike bennet

"Awright. Good. Yeah, let's do that, go to Ares." Mike moved further back to give Nicki enough room to climb out of the scrape, and then Mike moved to one of the swung-aside beehives, saying, "reckon we should cover up this hiding place again? In case any of yours still here needs to use it?" He didn't make a move fully, though, waiting to see what Nicki said.

Nicki Torres

Nicki waited for him to back away before she started pushing herself out of the scrape. Her teeth sunk into her tongue to muffle protests from unwanted movements. As much as she wanted to keep her knife up she needed both hands to pull her out so she set it on the ground and hoisted herself out. She got to her feet and swayed a bit but picked up the knife to hold ready. Never could be too careful. She glanced at the scrape and the door before back at Mike. "Close it. Slowly."

mike bennet

Mike did as she told him, swinging the hives back on their wooden arms until they were snugly covering the scrape to maintain its use as a hiding spot. "We gotta head that way," he said, pointing out. "I left your boy hid in the grass like a mama deer with its fawn but the longer we take to get back to him, the more chance we have of one of them Daybreakers getting him. He's too wounded to fight." Standing now, Mike could see the Daybreakers in the mostly-bare cornfield; a girl standing frozen holding a gun, a boy on the ground with a Daybreaker on his back. Could be anything. Could be too late. "We gotta git back to Ares."

Nicki Torres

Nicki was mostly watching him close the hiding place but she was keeping an eye out for anyone else who might be coming up on them. "Then get going," she said. No way she was going to go first. She wanted to keep eyes on him in case he tried anything and he was the one that knew where Ares was. "You better not be lying." And she hoped it wasn't too far because she was already feeling the want to get off her legs.

mike bennet

"Lord help anybody who dares lie to you," Mike said, but he figured Nicki wasn't much in the mood for playful banter. So he turned, letting her have the full breadth of his back if she suddenly felt the need to stick him, and headed towards the fence. A wail from the cornfield split the air, then the report of a rifle, but Mike didn't turn back. Ares was hidden up ahead, not too far, and he stopped enough for Nicki to catch up, pointing down at the bottom of the fenceposts. "The heap there? If you don't recognize it that might be on account of him wearing my shirt."

Nicki Torres

Nicki followed him, her eyes mostly on his back while her ears listened around her. She heard cries and gunfire. One shrill shriek was way too familiar and it churned her stomach but she kept walking. It was too late for them. Her left foot dragged on the ground a bit as she limped after Mike until he came to a stop. She had to get closer to see the heap he was talking about and she froze. She didn't need to see his face. "Ares..." she breathed out, sliding her knife into her pocket as she stumbled over to him and finally fell to her knees next to him. "Mi luz, mirame, por favor...." she muttered as she carefully tilted his face so she could see him. 

Ares Melaina

Initially, he'd tried staying awake. As soon as Mike had ran off, he'd sat back down in his hiding spot, knees pressed to his chest, eyes fixed on what he could see off the fence. He wasn't sure how long it'd been when he'd grown dizzy. Bloodloss or exhaustion catching up to him, he wasn't sure, but he'd lied down, curled up like a dog to preserve warmth. He'd shut down at some point. The next thing he knew was that something was touching his face, and there was a voice. A voice he'd recognized. "Nicki...?" Ares forced his eyes to open, the world seeming blindingly bright for the first few moments. But there she was. It took a second before his brain properly registered it. "Nicki... You're here..." Ares groaned, his muscles protesting as he tried to sit up. His vision fizzed, but it was then that he noticed the state she was in. "Oh... Oh god, you..." Ares gaze flickered up to her face, eyes wide and sad and still relieved. "You're alive. You're alive." He grabbed her head and kissed her, though it was more like crashing their lips together, to the point that it hurt. She was here.

mike bennet

Mike stayed on his feet, looming above the other two, not otherwise interrupting; the furor on the Ranch looked like it might be swirling down slower, uglier. He wondered if Zack Astor'd made it through alive. He wondered how Clint would sell him to Redwood as a new resident. Ares was kissing Nicki, and Mike watched them, making no attempt to be subtle.

Nicki Torres

At this point, there was only thing that she was focusing on and it was Ares. At first when she got up close to him she feared that maybe she was too late. He felt cold in her hands. But then his voice muttered her name and before she could second guess if this was her mind tricking her with wishful thinking she saw those big blue eyes of his and her heart hammered in her chest. He was awake. He was alive. She released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in relief and she helped him sit, although her muscles were protesting themselves. At first she wanted to smile but she saw the state of him. Mike wasn't lying - she knew what they had done. "I'm so sorry, Ares...." she muttered just before he interrupted her words with a sloppy, hard kiss. But she used that to confirm that this was real. Ares was alive and in front of her. He was kissing her. Her hands gently ran through his hair to hold him close. Pain be damned, she just needed him.

Ares Melaina

It couldn't really even be considered a kiss, the way Ares was pressing their lips together. When he pulled back, he could feel the blood pooling in his as he stared at her. "Don't. Don't be sorry. I'm okay. I promise." With his hands he was cupping her face, holding her tight, happy that she was alive. She was here, and that mattered. Everything else, they needed to deal with later. "You have to lie down. You're hurt." She looked worse for wear than him. Bruises mottling her body, her clothes torn. Ares' eyes drifted from her, over her shoulder to Mike. "You found her. Thank you." Ares voice was thick with gratitude as he looked up at Mike. "Are you okay?"

mike bennet

"Oh, I'm fine, Daisy. Jes happy I could be the cause of this here lil reunion." Mike's drawl thickened as he looked down at Ares, winking at him. "Tole you I'd git 'er done."

Nicki Torres

Her one hand rested on his that was cupping her face as she gripped the cloth of the shirt that was covering him. She didn't want to let go. The one time she lost sight of him and he got hurt. That wasn't about to happen again. Especially with Mike hovering nearby. "I'll be fine," she muttered as she pressed her palm to the back of his hand a bit more, mimicking squeezing it to reassure him. "I'll rest when this is over and when we don't have unwanted people around." The last part she directed more at Mike. She didn't care if Mike had brought her to him - Mike was one of them.

Ares Melaina

"Good. That's good." Ares didn't protest the name, as if he'd gotten used to it already. "You got her. Thanks. I mean it." Then, his attention was on Nicki. Being a raider beside her, and then getting to love her, he'd learned reading her well enough, though he barely needed that. His gaze flitted between her and Mike for a second, before he said. "You have to rest now, mi reina. You're hurt. You need all your strength if something happens. If we need to run." Not that they could run, or fight. Ares had lost his weapons, and Nicki had only her knife. "It's okay, Nicki. Mike's okay. He saved my life. He's not gonna hurt us. He's one of us."

mike bennet

Upon hearing Ares actually say it, and say it to his injured girlfriend no less, Mike couldn't hide a smirk, but he dialed it back before Nicki was able to catch more than a glimpse of it. Wouldn't do to seem like he was smug about being declared 'one of us' by her own boyfriend, after all.

Nicki Torres

Nicki had tried to turn her head to shoot a questioning gaze at Mike but she couldn't turn her head too much. That and she could barely make out the expression on his face, although she was sure she caught a smirk on his face. "He's a Daybreaker, Ares. I trust him as much as I trust a demon." Because that was what they were, at this point. "We can't trust him."

mike bennet

"Now is that any way to talk about the feller who brought you two back together? Who's Clint's beloved big bro?" Mike swiped his fingers from his forehead, down to his chest and each shoulder, ending with clasped hands. "Scout and Jesus honour, I done changed over a new leaf."

Ares Melaina

"Nicki." Ares voice was warm and firm, and he still kept hold of her face, trying to meet her eyes. "He isn't anymore. He's defected. He could've... he could've hurt me when he found me. I was shot and not really there and he patched me up. He went back in there and he brought you back to me because I asked him." He leaned his head forward, until his forehead was pressed against hers. "Please. We can't fight right now. Trust me."

Nicki Torres

"I wasn't talking to you," she quicky managed to shoot at Mike. She would have shot glares in his direction at well if she didn't have Ares' hands on her face and his touch was the most intoxicating thing right now. So when he spoke her name she focused on him. She knew that tone - it was the just listen tone. Very few people could use that tone on her and it actually work. Nicki listened and in her gut she didn't believe it. Memories of seeing him before when she had been with the Daybreakers were churning that distrust in her but it settled as he asked her to trust him. "It's not you I don't trust, mi luz.....Wait, you're shot?" Because that was the thing she got out of it.

Ares Melaina

"Yes, it- Mike helped me." Ares felt tired, exhausted. Pain and cold was catching up with him, although Nicki felt warm. "It's okay to lie down. I know you don't trust him, but you trust me, right? When I tell you it's okay." She wasn't in much better shape than him. Not shot, but who knew how bad she was hurt on the inside. She shouldn't be moving. His gaze flickered to Mike. "How is it looking in there? Who's winning?"

mike bennet

"Saw two little ones out on the cornfield," Mike reported, not seeing any point in keeping it from them. "Curly hair on the girl, shorn down on the boy, skittish. They might of made it and took down the Daybreakers chasing them." He shrugged. "Might not of. Depends on how good Astor trained you'ns up." 

Nicki Torres

Nicki didn't know what Mike was playing at. Was he really defecting or just playing them? For all she knew he could have guys surrounding them any minute. "I do trust you, Ares," she breathed out, her body screaming for rest at this point. She cautiously pulled him close so they could hold each other and keep each other warm - she could see him shiver and she was no better off with the shreds she had. "I'll lie down with you," she muttered after kissing the side of his face. Her eyes darted over to Mike and she felt a pang. Curly haired woman and sheered head guy? "That's Val and Fleet...." she whispered in Ares' ear.

Ares Melaina

He'd recognized the description too. There were traps in the cornfield, hidden among the dried up rests of what had grown there. Ares still had to swallow. Fleet wasn't used to the fighting, neither was Val. But Fleet had seemed, in some way, prepared for what was going on. Ares leaned his head back, pulling Nicki against him as gently as he could, so they could conserve warmth. He could ask Mike to go again, check on them. He wanted to, almost, but if he did, he and Nicki would be defenseless. And now it wasn't just him anymore. "Fleet and Val are gonna be okay. They're smart. And quick. They... they can do it." Ares blinked up at Mike. "Do you... can you stay?"

mike bennet

"Long as you and the lil lady want me to, Daisy." Mike inclines his head, looking down at them. "You ain't got nothin' to fear from me. not now. Not no more. I'm ..." He looks off, in the direction of where he'd hidden Clint, safe from anybody finding him. "I'm ready to stop."

Nicki Torres

Lil lady. The little title for her made more queasy. If she was in any other mood and not concerned about the fact Ares was hurt, she might have come back with some snarky, off-hand rebuttal. But Ares was drawing her down and she was trying hard not to groan with the shifting weight aggravated spots across her body. "They better. I told Fleet he better be safe." She shifted just a bit to avoid crushing him and ease her own discomfort. "You can explain to Zack what he's doing here when this is all over." Because if there was one person who was going to be more skeptical than her, it was him.

Ares Melaina

"Yeah. I'm gonna." Ares didn't have the energy to think about that right now. As he leaned back, his gaze tilted up at Mike. There was something different in the way he talked, in his gaze as he looked off. Ares understood that. "It's gonna be okay." He said to everyone - himself, Nicki, Mike. He couldn't promise it, but he wanted that. He rubbed the back of Nicki's head with his fingers as he stared at the sky, trying not to drift off, because he'd heard you shouldn't because you might not wake up again, just breathing and waiting for the gunshots and faint screams to stop.

[quickdeaths]

There was a routine to it all, they supposed, and all the literature said that routines were beneficial to those who were suffering as they suffered. In the mornings, Shinobu spoke to her fellow agents about whether they had any tasks that she might assist with, and if not, sought out the various remnants to lend a hand. If there was nothing at all, at least she could enjoy a bit of solitude in her room, eating a small meal and sketching before spending the evening with Sonia, were she not already committed to something with her friends. At all times, it was important for them to block out as much of Anzu's running commentary as possible.

And yet, there was a gnawing sense of, if not dissatisfaction, than at least a lack of satisfaction. It wasn't always easy to understand where they stood with Sonia. She'd accepted her desire to be friends, it seemed, and they spent time together almost daily. Shinobu checked on her, to make sure she was eating, and to see if she needed anything done around the cabin. While Sonia had been recovering, she'd brought her books, or movies for the two of them to watch together. It wasn't a bad friendship, nor a difficult one, but her discomfort still sat at the pit of her stomach.

There were a few movies tucked into her backpack, as well as a few light snacks. More teen movies, mostly, with some Studio Ghibli animated films sprinkled in. Shinobu couldn't claim to be any kind of expert, so their picks were mostly about reading the back of the boxes, or looking at which cover actresses most caught their attention. The one that seemed most interesting to her was some modern retelling of a Shakespeare play - work that Shinobu was familiar with, but hadn't read in school to the point of boredom or exhaustion.

She'd left a few movies at the library too, assuming that the subject matter might be slightly more sensitive, or perhaps just not to Sonia's liking. But, when she thought of it, how many more movies would they have together? It wasn't as though they spent every night together, and soon enough, it would be as Sonia had said. She'd be whisked away to Novoselic, to sit by the window in too-large rooms, the sound and sights of protests outside the castle gates just apparent enough to make the feelings of the protestors clear. In time, she'd be expected to marry someone like Byakuya Togami - the thought made Shinobu ill - and birth heirs whose hands might be one day seen as cleaner than her own.

So then, what could Shinobu do about it? Was there anything in her meager power to somehow change that situation for her? Tanaka wouldn't go along with her, and they weren't sure if anyone else would be a comfort in the same manner. Perhaps she could see about delaying Sonia's return, if she spoke with Naegi or Miss Kirigiri about it, but that was only a short-term solution. All of her ideas, unfortunately, also sounded worse when Anzu had no shortage of reasons why they wouldn't work, and why Shinobu was a fool for even trying so hard.

What roused her from her thinking, as she walked across the beach, was Sonia's voice. Truthfully, Shinobu hadn't even realized she'd nearly arrived. "Ah, Miss Nevermind," she murmured, only to register the so-called extenuating circumstances even before Sonia had mentioned it. "Cat..." she said, as though that weren't immediately obvious to the both of them. "Ah... oh, of course, that's quite alright." An unusual event, surely, but not one that was unimportant. Possibly, it might even give Sonia a small boost to her mood, or her image of herself as a person, to take care of another living thing.

As she kept speaking, though, Shinobu found another idea growing in her mind. "I could go with you, if you'd like? It might be easier to have two sets of hands, if there's a lot to carry." Plus, though she'd healed up well, Shinobu still didn't like the idea of Sonia being too burdened with her foot as it was. "It's not there are any other demands upon my time, and I'd be happy to help, if you think it might be useful." She wished she could simply invite herself along, secure in the knowledge that she would, in fact, be helpful, but the thin barrier that separated her from Sonia seemed impossible to breach without invitation to do so. To intrude upon her, or force upon her a presence she didn't want seemed too selfish, otherwise.

"Oh, actually..." It made sense that the remnants didn't have internet access, given what so much of the news was, and suddenly Shinobu realized why the library computers were configured in the manner that they were. "I have a cell phone. Service here isn't always exceptional, and I'm not sure much information you might need, but if there's something you'd like to look up, or double-check, I might be able to do so on your behalf." All of which was to say, she wanted to accompany her, and she hoped that Sonia would allow it.

Closed starter for @quickdeaths!

She'd just about finished drying off by the time she reached the steps to her cabin. As her foot healed (and presumably other parts of her as well), Sonia had taken to swimming in the hotel pool at night. Without the oppressive heat and sunlight and most of her friends retiring for the evening, she was often left undisturbed in the water. Once they were able to trust her not to drown herself there, anyway.

She swam laps, remembering the strokes from before Junko had sunk her claws into her. She sat on the edge, swishing her legs in the water. And sometimes she simply let herself float, laying on her back and looking up at a starry, often cloudless sky. Something she wanted to commit to memory: where she would eventually be going, Sonia supposed the lights of the capitol would drown out all of the constellations that sparkled over Novoselic Castle. She wanted to remember them like this instead, surrounded by friends, than what the rest of her life would surely entail: seclusion, judgement, hatred, loneliness. And she'd brought it all on herself.

A thought that elicited a deep sigh from her when she'd dipped beneath the water's surface for the last time that night, swimming to the edge of the pool before climbing out. A thought that remained at the forefront of her mind as she toweled off, as she tied her long wrap skirt around her one piece suit, as she slipped on sandals and carried her towel, a book, and a flashlight back through the walking paths to the cabins. She was coasting and, for the first time, she was able to admit it. But if it kept her alive and without rummaging through every place she could think of for even a sip of alcohol, was it not worth it?

Sonia pushed the door to her cabin open, hoping she'd remembered to keep enough non-alcoholic drinks in the small refrigerator she was allowed in her room, and froze. She'd left the lights on in her cabin, to keep herself from fumbling in the dark, and the windows open, to help keep her living space cool at night.

What she hadn't expected was a cat, curled up in the center of her bed right in front of the pillows. "Kitty?" She called out, only to receive a small 'mew!' in return. Sonia exhaled, smiling softly as she dropped her tote bag and towel on the floor, proceeding to the edge of the bed. "How did you get in here? Through the window, I expect?" Sonia asked, sitting on the edge of her bed beside her. "You are quite a long way from the farm, Miss Kitty." She'd recognized the animal quickly: before Gundham had awakened, it had been her responsibility to look after the barn animals, including those who made a living keeping the mice and rats out of the feed bags. There had been at least half a dozen cats in various colors and patterns, and she'd called them all 'Kitty' to avoid getting too attached to them. This 'Miss Kitty' was the tuxedo cat of the bunch: sleek black fur everywhere except for her belly, chest, chin, and paws, which were all a soft, fuzzy white. She'd always walked with her tail and chin both held high, her slim body and legs always giving a small sashay with every step.

Well, she used to, anyway. Sonia sighed, scratching the cat's head and behind the ears before moving to pet her belly. "You have gotten a bit chubby since we last met, if you do not find it rude for me to tell you as such," She said, nearly reaching the white fur that bulged out and away from the cat's full, round belly. "I wonder if you might have gotten Hanamura-san to feed you too, and-"

Sonia's hand stopped, for several reasons: the cat had yowled upon Sonia's gentle touch upon her stomach and had began to pant in displeasure, Sonia's fingers had grazed several protruding nipples, and beneath the cat's skin...a small paw, or head, butted against her hand. Oh. OH.

"Miss Kitty, you are expecting!" Sonia cried, right alongside the cat's next yowl. It was impossible to ignore the look of pain and stress in her yellow eyes, stretched out on her side as she continued to pant. "And soon, you wish to birth your kittens here, of all places?"

Another pitiful cry, and some sort of reddish-brown discharge began to stain the comforter. Sonia's eyes widened: she didn't want to panic, but it wasn't as if she was an expert in delivering kittens. And with Hajime likely asleep and her unwillingness to approach Gundham about it, it would be up to her to ensure the mother and her babies were kept comfortable. "Let me think, let me think..." Sonia spoke aloud to herself, reaching into the drawer beneath the nightstand to produce a notebook and pen. "Please stay here, Miss Kitty: I will try to remember everything you need!"

Not wanting to crowd the cat's space (despite it being her cabin), Sonia took a seat on the cabin's steps leading up to the open door. Her towel, her bag, and her shower forgotten, she sat there, in a still-damp swimsuit and her wrap skirt, one bare leg sticking out from beneath it, scribbling as fast as she could in the notebook. She was making a list, frantic and focused: blankets, hot water bottle, clean towels, clean water, bowls, maybe some leftover grilled fish if the kitchen had any.

She hadn't even noticed the sound of footsteps approaching. Not until a slight shadow had been cast over her beneath the outdoor lights of the cabin. "Yaguchi-san!" She exclaimed, once she'd finally taken notice and looked up. "I am so sorry, I am still rather a mess from the pool earlier. But I am afraid we cannot engage in our film night tonight. There are extenuating circumstances-"

Another yowl from inside the cabin: the extenuating circumstances.

"I apologize, but I will need to visit the Hotel Mirai immediately for supplies," Sonia explained, getting to her feet. With minimal pain this time, anyway. "I have recalled the best I can about what will be needed for a feline birth, but as I am not permitted access to the internet and it would take too long to search the library, it will have to do. We can watch movies another time, but I thank you for bringing them all this way."

[touyasdoll]

Aizawa x Reader, a gift. — ℊ

You sobbed out as you came again, one orgasm right after the other due to your Master giving your tail a harsh yank right near the base as soon as he felt you reach a crescendo the first time cuming. This was the first time you were having sex with him and you knew you were done for. Sometimes, you were certain your Master had a cat quirk, too. Just a more passive one, at least until today when he had come up behind you, pinned you to the couch and bit the back of your neck until you slumped in submission.

Not that he had had to wait very long for you to submits only fighting back from the surprise of the action. You had learned early on that you weren’t one to take the reigns in the bedroom. You were so far from being a dominant person that you had begun to question yourself. It took two relationships fizzling out at your “lack of passion”, as one called it, and an accidental crashing of a fellow heroine’s “dungeon party” to figure it out.

But you did get it figured it out, all with your fellow heroines help. She had helpfully guided you as your first dom, taken you on herself that very night and the next few weeks as well, teaching you as much as having you experiment. She had laughed when you had told her about the passion comment in the aftermath of a session — mainly because she had just gotten through with having you on your hands and knees, begging to taste her, then begging to be used and taken before sucking off her strap on and being bent over a desk where she did indeed take. You had pouted in embarrassment at her reaction, so once more she took you over the desk that night, going farther than before with a wicked smirk as she made you yowl, dissolving into begging to cum again between absolutely filthy promises to all she asked, all just to prove that “a lack of passion” was most certainly the not in any way true. Your former partners just hadn’t known how to be what you needed. And that was fine. You just had to find what you needed in someone you clicked with — after you fulfilled your promises to her. You were going to be sore for months, you had thought, but found yourself enjoying every moment of sinfully wonderful pleasure as you soaked up all she diligently taught you.

Which is when she introduced you to Aizawa Shouta, aka the underground hero Eraserhead, a friend of hers from their school days. You both had moved slowly, learning about one another before today had come.

He had asked you to sit down and then silently brought out an elegant tray with a collar, a beautiful amethyst one that matched your eyes, with a matching lead (that was unattached for now, not even out of its delicately showcased packaging) and set of accessories. There were silk blindfolds, cuffs and ties, three stud and three hooped piercings, a beautiful clit clip that was evidentially expensive by appearance alone, several matching clamps, a y-shaped chain to connect them, an anal plug trainer set, a vibrator, a gag and several other items all complimentary in colour and design to the collar and lead. Your eyes roamed over everything carefully, recognizing pieces from your training that made you gulp, mouth going dry as you couldn’t help but image him putting them on you, using them on you. You squirmed in your seat, rubbing your thighs together before a sharp word has you stilling, your attention back on your boyfriend.

Shouta then carefully and completely set up terms and rules to follow, going as far as to set up three different safe words of your choice. He looked at you as if you were a gift waiting to be opened as you went through the discussion with your well being as the topic. When the collar went on, so too did he become Master. What he said was to be followed. You gave a small whine, already feeling yourself slip a bit. You wanted to be his, you needed to be his and this was taking too slow!

He obviously could tell as he let out an irritated sigh and quickly pinned you to the couch on your stomach. Your hands were held tightly behind your back and a knee was settled between your legs, making it so you couldn’t escape back or forward so long as he held you tight. His mouth was right behind your ear as he firmly commanded you to be still. Your heart dove into your stomach and bounced right back out as he repeated himself before making sure you understood by repeating him.

As soon as you replied with your knowledge of what he said and consent he bit the back of your neck. Just which one of you had the cat quirk again?

Your answer came in the form of a nip to your ear that causes both to flatten to your head in reflex. You had zoned out and your Master looked amused.

“Still with me, Kitten?”, he asked, a hand moving through your hair, causing you to purr loudly.

You gave a soft mewl at the affection in his tone and nodded, leaning further into his hand at your hair, noting the other was massaging your breast, giving gentle squeezes and then tugging lightly at your nipples sending a shiver down your spine. If he kept that up….. “Yessir,” you responded, blinking slowly up at him, not quite looking at his eyes.

“Good,”he nodded, letting out an amused huff as your head presses him for more petting. Shouta pressed back, gripping your hair as he leaned down, capturing your mouth in a firm but loving kiss.

As the kiss broke you mewled questioningly, head tilting as much as you could, “Good Kitten?” You hoped you were. He seemed pleased, but you had to ask to be sure. You didn’t want to disappoint your new Master, not now, not ever. You had already started off distracted, but he seemed to let that pass.

Shouta chuckled, a wicked hint to it, and you felt his clever fingers tweak your nipples eliciting a moan before both hands traveled down your body.

“Excellent Kitten,” he replied, one hand slipping to press against and squeeze your ass, bringing your body even closer to him. The other slipped around to between the both of you and honed in on your clit, rubbing it in even measure. “My Kitten.”

“Oh!” You let out a sound of surprise as you began to squirm as he began to play your body, the first round and break done with the second beginning. “All yours! All for Master! Master’s Kitten, Master’s pet, Master’s, Master’s!”

The words played out like a chant as the hand on your rear moved to cup your hip and readjust your body to fit his. You’re core was matched with his cock and took just one smooth thrust before it slipped into your pussy, bottoming out. You gasped in surprise again before moaning loudly. “Master….!”

“Yessss,” he grunted in pleasure, thrusting his hips forward with a sharp snap to bury himself almost far more impossibly deeper. “Fits perfectly, Kitten. Your used little pussy, opening up and swallowing me right up, Pet! My Kitten’s tight little pussy, taking me so perfectly! Knows who it belongs to! Going to make it so it’ll fit me and only me, Kitten. So you’ll only get wet for me, can only be filled up right by me, can only cum for me. Only for your Master, who you only belong to, isn’t that right?”

“Only for Master, only Master’s.” You nodded quickly, beginning to babble as you repeated his words to show you understood. You wore his collar. You were his Kitten, his pet and only his. You followed his words and your body would only be filled up right by him. By your Master. “Master’s pussy, Master’s pussycat! So good for Master! Only Master, only Master’s pussy, only fit, only wet for him, only Masters Please! Please please please! Master! Oh!”

With each deep, slow thrust Shouta gave you, you promised, you begged. And he smirked smugly with a touch of sadistic. He’d keep you begging for a few more minutes. See if he could bring out some more promises, maybe get you to agree to those piercings — he had the tools for it. You would look so good laying on the table, trying to stay still like he would order, only to fail and have to be tied up. He’d then pierce you, listening to your restrained whimpers as he took care to fasten and clean you up, admiring the gorgeous sight of you with them, then reminding you with a sadistic smirk that you couldn’t have your tight, sweet little pussy used up any until it healed. Same with your sweet nipples, just to be safe, of course. You wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself, either.

You would whine and whimper, wanting to be filled with your Master’s cock and that’s when he’d bring out the set of training plugs. You’d be so eager, needing to be filled now that you found out you couldn’t. He’d prepare you maddeningly slow, letting you squirm some more on his fingers, but giving your ass a firm warning smack when you wouldn’t settle. Shouta could picture it perfectly, accurately too as you would indeed react true to his predictions, even going further to his surprise. Just because you couldn’t use your pussy didn’t mean you couldn’t use your mouth, too.

And he’d soon learn how addicting your mouth would be. How much he’d come to love watching you be spit roasted between him and your toys, maybe even just between your toys, practically choking on a dildo, drooling around the thick and textured replica like a slutty little kitty as a large vibrator made your tail stand straight up as it pushed into you from behind, slowly and then with a last harsh thrust to bury itself inside that would have you yowling? What of two sex machines, perhaps? Or maybe three, with you tied in his scarf, wrists bound up as you bent forward on your knees, a spreader bar locking your legs wide open as one machine thrust into your delicious pussy, another your ass and the final one into your mouth, slick and drool making for lewd squelching sounds with every movement as he sat back and jerked off to the amazing scene before him again and again? Maybe he’d even tape it. He’s sure Nemuri would appreciate it, as a gift.

Maybe he’s even allow another person to help spir roast you, if there was anyone else worthy of being able to use what belongs to him, that is. Worthy of his perfect pet’s beautiful holes, excellent body. Just perfect, just right, just his.

Shouta’s pet, his obedient little Kitten.

—

Deepest apologies that this is so messy, but I was in a hurry to share while I have so many things to do. I’m thrilled you want to continue up the last bits I have left you and I cannot wait to read it. Have a lovely week!

ℊ

Thank you for the wonderful meal, g 😩😩

Aizawa simps, come & eatttt 💕

[breefarrow]

Just adding to the larries liking taylor swift, i think one of th reason is that most of the larries are part of of the lgbtq community. And in our community, Taylor is very loved. She's a gay icon. It's easy to just brush away the shits that happened with haylor since it's in the past. Also these larries thinks it's a double sided bearding. There is this theory about how TS was dating Diana at the time of haylor. I believe Diana also sometimes thirdwheel to haylor's dates. That Out Of The Woods is about when their stunt is ending or smthng. OR this larries could be just newbies that already like Taylor Swift and couldn't careless about Haylor since the y didn't get to experience how horrible that time was.

For me, I think I just tolerate her. Some of her songs are good. But I am still annoyed at the annoying songs she wrote about haylor. 🤢 Can't escape it tho, since two of my sisters are swifties.

Hey anon I do know about those rumors I personally don't feel the same on the matter of her being 🏳️‍🌈 tho I don't know much about her music past the "h**lor songs" to truly say. But for argument sake let's say she is isn't that worse when it comes to this topic? She would know what it is like to be a closeted celeb and yet she still used a fellow closeted celeb to make herself look like a victim and them the "toxic ex womanizer who treats women like trash." She did something that further put H in the closet and madw people think he's straight.

People may say oh it was all her team like sure her team may have initially decided for her to get involved in a fake relationship with H but all the slandering of H from her at one point that's on her. If her team did tell her to say all those things and it wasn't her personal choice to drag H then give her a fuckin oscar bc she did a damn good job playing the role of I'm a victim of a shitty ex and here is why.

So I [along with anonymous mutuals] believe whether she is or isn't 🏳️‍🌈 she still dragged H through the mud with almost all of 2013 promo/award season being her dragging "her ex" aka H and we just can't get ourselves to be ok with that. And during the time period of h**lor's relationship L&H were fuckin miserable every day.

Of course here we are 10 years later and he is STILL being asked about her and whether his songs are for her and to no suprise he fuckin hates it. She unintentional or not caused them a lot of trauma and was the reason H womanizer image sky rocketed in 2013. So it will never make sense to me how someone can claim to love L&H proudly "being a larrie" while idolizing her.

I do think like you said most of those who love her are newbies who just weren't around in 2012/13 time period to know what happened bc if they had been they would know how much it fucked them up. And don't even get me started on how most of these stans think their ✨️ besties ✨️ with her.

This interview from 2012 will always be a huge deal to me in understanding how they felt about the situation and her. When Lou was asked what his thoughts are of H&T relationship Lou makes it clear not only are they not dating but their not even friends. This was literally Lou reaction/body language throughout the whole 3 month ordeal.

Lastly L&H celebrated when it ended. They clearly don't care for her, want her to stop being brought up and to move on from her but some of their own fans sit here and try to paint them as friends.

[nevertheless-moving]

Could you talk more about your gumbo jar jar au or the frog one? 🐸

hm on close review the frog promise draft is a now redundant drabble from this au. Here it is in its entirety:

“I will never join you,” Luke said with a sneer of disgust.

Palpatine, as well as the nearby politicians, Jedi masters, and reporters were taken aback. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning, Master Jedi,” the Senator said incredulously. “Do you mean to tell me that you consider yourself separate from the Republic? I know the Jedi Council had disavowed recognizing you but I never could have imagined...” he trailed off, leaving the crowd to murmur in alarm.

“I mean I will never join the Sith,” the rogue master replied calmly. “I imagine you’re responsible for the traces of the dark side I felt amongst the trade federation leaders.”

“The Sith...I see.” Palpatine took a step back, deliberately reassuring tone and alarmed expression clearly indicated that he suspected the man before him of insanity. “It’s been a very long day and you clearly intended to do good by my humble home world. Perhaps your fellow Jedi can take you to the healers so you can-”

“Why are you working alongside a Sith Lord?” Luke cut off the Senator and addressed Grandmaster Yoda directly. 

“A Sith Lord, you say?” Master Yoda replied. “A most serious allegation, this is.”

Basically, Luke derails the Naboo Crisis by absolutely annihilating the trade federation army, only realizing after the fact when and where he is. This means that Padme turns right around from Tatooine and never voices her vote of no-confidence. Now, Palpatine probably had contingency plans in place, but the public accusation by a Jedi of being responsible for the crisis in the first place, despite absolutely no evidence, hurts his image enough that he’s not going to win a vote, because people will think it’s a power grab. 

And it’s funny cause it’s true but Luke only barely knows that! He’s just accusing Palpatine of being behind the first evil thing he sees and he fuckin happens to be right!!!

Anyway Luke doesn’t focus on Palpatine; there are like 10,000 other Jedi around. He commits himself first and foremost to completing his training with Master Yoda because sometime Yoda just dies and fades into thin air so, you know! He’s not going to procrastinate on that again!

He goes before the council and humbly asks to be taken on Yoda’s student (this is right before Qui-Gon can ask about Anakin- literally, Anakin and Qui-Gon are in the waiting room). He gives several extremely vague banthashit explanations of who he is ‘I’m a follower of the Force,’ where he comes from ‘the Force sent me,’ and why they should train him when he’s way too old ‘the Force willed it.’ Yoda is somewhat impressed because those are some real unhelpfully wise answers and- here’s the kicker- Luke actually believes them! 

He is really committed to being a Jedi! Is 110% all about being a luminous being! This is several years after return of the Jedi and Luke has pretty much just been hanging out in force temples meditating with ghosts so he has quintessential Jedi vibes, he just knows jackshit about anything!

What really clinches it for Yoda is the fact that his robe pocket starts squirming and he pulls out a live Nabooian Salt Frog. And hands it to Yoda like, “These are one of your favorites right? :) I saw it and I thought of you :)”

Now Yoda- let’s step back a second. Yoda is old. Yoda, in his youth, was a bit more feral. He’s a top level predator and the order has always celebrated diversity and being true to your origins! He’s hunted with Tortugans on Shili! He’s unhinged his jaw with Besalisks on Ojom! 

But as the Republic’s boundaries caved in on themselves, he was more and more put into contact with Core senators who tend to be unnerved by more, ah, carnivorous tendencies. And the more he was put into high level positions by virtue of being really frickin old, the more restrained he became in his public behavior. 

Decades passed and younglings who only ever knew his more ‘harmless-prank’ feral tendencies were increasingly shocked and scared to see him occasionally unhinge his jaw to eat a scrocodile whole. Some of the prey-origin younglings from that field trip actually avoided him for the rest of the their lives.

So. Yoda is still a carnivore- but- in private. With his padawans and his closest peers. But his closest peers age and die and his padawans get younger and smaller as the decades pass. He took on two herbivorous padawans in a row and as a result restrained himself from openly hunting with another soul for around for 50 years.

And then there’s Dooku. ‘Ah a human,’ he thinks. ‘They hunt sometimes. Well. They’re omnivores at least.’

And Dooku is- and I’m not saying this to shame Dooku- but he’s prissy. He likes...neatness. He’s not afraid of violence but force forbid it’s untidy. So when Yoda, excited to get his ambush predation on, takes 14 year old Dooku who’s barely ever left the sterile confines of Coruscant on a trip to a swamp world- yeaaahh it doesn’t go well. Dooku- he doesn’t mean to, honestly. How would he even know that Yoda might be sensitive about things? He’s Yoda. 

But Dooku sobbing openly and puking a little in a bush and running away from Yoda because his Master is terrifying and gross. It... kind of puts the nail in the coffin for Yoda being open about that side of himself. He doesn’t really have it in him to try again. People’s view of him is too fixed, they can’t handle him also being a flesh creature so he focuses on the luminous side of him which is and always was, genuinely, more important than him.

And that’s been the last 100 years or so. The thrill of a live kill is just a little piece of himself that he meditates away and that’s ok. He has the force. He has the order. He’s old anyway, a real hunt would probably hurt his joints. 

And then in comes Luke, radiating Light and earnestness and Jedi serenity while also holding out a very tasty looking live frog. And Yoda realizes Dooku’s not around, he’s surrounded by a council he trusts and respects and likes, none of whom are 14 year olds, all of whom have seen the galaxy and seen worse. He is almost seizing the moment but there’s a little part of him that shriveled up when Dooku cried that’s having a hard time accepting this.

“Want it for yourself, you do not?” Yoda cackles, playing off the offer.

Luke smiles sheepishly and pulls out another live frog. “I was saving it for later. Forgive me Master, your senses are keen as ever I see.”

And Yoda...it’s not about the bribe, really, so much as the symbolism, and it’s not about the flattery either, but darn is the kid really pulling out the stops to make himself likable. And he is a kid, to Yoda anyway. Everyone is these days. What does he care about numbers when there’s a boy smiling like his third padawan, an adorable Rodian who took great delight in their more amphibious and wild missions?

Yoda snatches one of the frogs and slowly raises it in a parody of a toast. Luke does the same. The rest of the council quietly watches in various shades of bewilderment and bemusement.

They’re not actually going to eat that right? Mace thinks. Ugh I hate frogs the skin is so slimy. Shaak Ti thinks. I cannot believe they’re not even offering me one. Yaddle thinks.

And Yoda bites the head off the frog in a quick snap of his jaws, the rest following rapidly. Luke does the same- a slight assist from the force helping his less specialized mandible tear through skin and bone in a well practiced move. He chews slower, but finishes the frog soon enough, the rest of the council looking on with deep uncertainty and a tiny bit of hunger, but no actual fear. They’re Jedi Masters; they’ve eaten everywhere, it’s just a little weird for a human to be eating a live animal and Yoda as far as anyone knew only ate stew and also they were in the middle of a council meeting.

Yoda belches and Luke smiles genially.

“Take you on as my padawan learner, I will. Much to learn you have, much to teach you, I do.”

Luke beams. The council looks on in shock. 

“Master Yoda,” Mace Windu says hesitantly, “He’s clearly in his late 20s, at the earliest. If this is about the... frog thing-”

“Was a pleasant surprise, the frog. The reason for my decision, it is not. Had some training already, he has. Know each other before this day, we do. Taking over for a Master passed into the force, I am merely. Our custom, this is.”

Luke bows lowly and an initiate is summoned to escort him to the quartermasters and then the long-empty padawan suite next to Yoda’s chambers. 

Qui-Gon and Anakin are brought in and. Well. It’s a little hard for them to simply reject the boy after Yoda just pulled that stunt. He’s sent to the initiates dorm, eventually. Mace Windu has a headache from the shatterpoints blinking in and out of existence. Shaak Ti is delighted to discuss a hunting trip with Master Yoda and his new padawan learner Luke Svader. 

The force dances.