#why does she have such a hard time granting other people human right and agency omg

[videoworm]

Janeways characteristics i most like and dislike is being bossy and being bossy lol

[ghooostbaby]

deeeep dive into why and how wei wuxian and lan wangji love each other, complete each other, are the inverse reflection of each other’s deeply hidden internal selves mirrored through the other’s external self, lan wangji’s inner wildness that he has to conceal and protect recognizing and loving wei wuxian’s outer wildness, wei wuxian’s deep, fuddy-duddy morality and values that he conceals with an elaborate subterfuge of jokes, mischief, and bravado, seeing and loving in lan wangji the ability to say no that it was never safe for him to express directly, “between you and me there is no need for thank you and sorry”

oh and a slight diversion midway through into a manifesto on WEI WUXIAN IS NOT INSECURE the whole story is about a society where being liked is ESSENTIAL for survival and it is actually completely perilous not to be liked, and his “people pleasing” is a skill and tool for his survival especially as an orphan and proven to be a necessary one when he stops doing it and STOPS SURVIVING

after the cut discussing the very interesting dynamics of consent in general in the novel, but not going into the consensual non-consent kink stuff till the last paragraph if you need to avoid for any reason.

I've been thinking about how Lan WangJi sees in Wei WuXian the exterior, unfettered expression of the wildness Lan WangJi holds in him and protects with rigid codes of conduct, propriety and outward dignity.

I have had this sense that these two are mirrors, either one reflecting the hidden, interior (and unallowed) self of the other. but it seemed more clear from Lan WangJi's side, especially knowing about his history with his mother and the spicy side that emerges when he drinks and in the extras.

I also - just... the way this whole story shows how romantic love is truly this longing for your self, to become yourself, to become the thing you're not allowed to be, seeing in that person the expression of whatever it is you can't become and longing for it, protecting it, joining with it as closely as you can without ever being able to let it live inside your own body.

On the surface it seems a lot more difficult for Wei WuXian to find a piece of his soul in Lan Wangji. I think its a bit too simplistic to see whatever draws Wei WuXian to Lan Wangji as a reverse-psychology sort of craving of acceptance from the only one who won't give it, pushing and pushing against this impenetrable boundary that he needs to break to feel assurance that no matter what he can make anyone accept him.

And he is SO drawn - in a mind boggling way, in the teenage flashbacks Lan WangJi rudely and aggressively throws him off over and over and Wei WuXian cannot keep away! Even when he talks about how boring Lan WangJi is, he never stops trying to be around him and talk to him.

I've seen discussions of the way Wei WuXian has always relied on the goodwill of others to survive, and that his placating of others to survive is a character flaw. Although that seems only halfway true. 

As a young child he didn't have anyone's goodwill for a while and he survived, and it seems like he can always find a way to survive from whatever means and sometimes very limited resources he has at his disposal. Doing what he has to do to become powerful enough to survive losing his core and being thrown into the burial mounds slowly costs him the goodwill of everyone around him - and what happens to him as a result shows how much placation was a truly necessary for someone without the protection of biological/hereditary family bonds.

(Don’t get me started on how his loss of his golden core and his development of demonic cultivation to give himself power by ‘unnatural methods’ through the use of a musical instrument is a metaphor for disability and the way ableist society sees the use of accessibility devices and tools. Actually please DO get my started haha.)

Wei WuXian is so charismatic and seems very used to getting what he wants and needs on the strength of that. He pushes a lot of boundaries and seems pretty confident and flexibly prepared to handle the consequences, whether beatings or harsh words. But he does work so hard to make others feel good, good with him, good with themselves.

When he is in the cave with Lan WangJi, Wei WuXian is described as "like one who forgets all past pain as soon as the wound heals". He can't resist coming up beside Lan WangJi and talking to him again and again after every time Lan WangJi pushes him off, only finally staying away when Lan WangJi bites him (and he still keeps trying to talk to him after a little bit!) and then calls him an awful person (!!! Bad Wangji! :(((( ). In the end, when Lan WangJi (very minimally) discloses what happened to his sect and his father, and even cries, because of all the defences/assaults Lan WangJi has put up Wei WuXian can't do anything or say anything to help and feels miserable.

Lan WangJi just absolutely refuses to allow Wei WuXian to take care of him - and I began to wonder maybe that’s what Wei WuXian actually really likes about him? Why he is unable to resist coming up to Lan WangJi again and again? Maybe because Lan WangJi refuses to let Wei WuXian appease him. He’s not trying to crack Lan WangJi to get to this impenetrable place of approval and acceptance. In a way he can’t quite understand, Lan WangJi is a respite for Wei WuXian from the constant work to be the one who pleases.

And  how different this is to how Wei WuXian is (or has to be) with Jiang Cheng when he wakes up in Lotus Pier after the cave. Jiang Cheng gets so down and really really needs Wei WuXian to do what he does so well (and wasn’t allowed to do with Lan WangJi) - chasing Jiang Cheng down while being injured and reassuring him about all his insecurities about his father's acceptance and becoming a sect leader and Wei WuXian's own abilities excelling his - and at first Jiang Cheng is pushing him away, but he really does need Wei WuXian to do all this to feel better.

Wei WuXian is described as not wanting to be lonely, and not wanting to see other people unhappy, and he keeps trying to push and pull with whatever he has to not be lonely and lift the mood for those around him. I don't think it's a kind of codependency or insecurity. It’s not that Wei WuXian is afraid to say no, in fact I would say he doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do, but he must always do it creatively, with humour. Similarly to Nie Huaisang, he uses a persona of foolishness to give himself a covert agency.

I also think I'm writing this because I don't like seeing this discussed as a sad bean character flaw for him to always need to be liked - its a strategy, its a tool, its how he survives and excels. Doesn’t the whole story prove how essential being liked is to a human’s survival? And he is so so good at being liked, in making others happy, even when he is refusing to do what others want from him that he doesn't want to do, he does it in a way that deflects criticism, with a smiling bravado that never says what it truly means and has people writing him off as shameless or foolish or just endearing himself toward them despite themselves.

He is always at work really, with jokes and flattery or mischief and teasing, to get the resources he wants and needs. Case and point, when he makes a big coquettish show for mianmian, definitely not being "people pleasing" for her, but the group of girls around them all find it funny and cute and in the end she gives him a perfume sachet which ends up being a valuable resource for later. Or the time he outright tells Jiang Cheng that if you give the girls some lotus seeds they'll remember you and return the favour in the future. (Also notice how his interactions with girls seen as flirtatious are actually strategic resource-gathering acts.) These are the skills he has developed to meet his own needs. (THIS IS NOT A CHARACTER FLAW. I REPEAT.) He takes what he needs and steals from the Lotus Pier markets knowing it'll be paid for, he lives like he never know when his next windfall will come from so he'll take what he can when he can find it. Like Jiang Fengmian said, if there is no guarantee of a meal in the future then today's meal should still be enjoyed. It’s how Wei WuXian said to Nie Huaisang at Cloud Recesses, you have to find ways to make your own fun out of whatever you have. So he gets kicked out of class, goes fishing, gets alcohol, he pursues his own pleasure. He actually is quite insistent of his own agency and right to choose, he just can never directly say no.

And that little detail that Wei WuXian always tucks coins into his clothes just in case, that makes him able to buy food when he and Jiang Cheng are on the run... breaks my heart and reveals so much about the way Wei WuXian is constantly at work on ensuring his own survival and never takes for granted whether he is safe (he knows he never is). 

I've seen some people talking about Wei WuXian sacrificing so much for his brother and sister out of a need to be accepted out of a chronic sense of insecurity. But isn’t this just true? Doesn't he live in a world where being accepted is absolutely essential for survival? Doesn’t this whole story show the cruelty of a social system based on networks of hereditary/biological family that closes out and scapegoats any outsiders, and that without biological family connections that can enclose around you, you can never truly be safe if not constantly working to earn acceptance? (And then beautifully ends with the way a gay romantic relationship that queers marriage/family/etc disrupts all this and creates safety and inclusion for Wei WuXian without needing a normative family.) (AKA romantic love does not resolve some internal personal problem in Wei WuXian but disrupts and refuses and rebels against the problem of SOCIETY.) (*breathes heavily*)

And that’s why Lan WangJi is magnetizing to Wei WuXian. Lan WangJi is always saying no. Although what Lan WangJi sees in Wei WuXian is an exterior wildness, Wei WuXian is not really out of control so much as he is playing and caring and supplicating and showing off and pleasing people to get the resources and the acceptance he needs to live his life. He has firm values and desires that he can never outwardly state, only creatively spinning plates to distract and deflect while he refuses what goes against his values, protects who he cares for, or takes what he needs to in order to survive/thrive. Lan WangJi embodies an exterior of resoluteness and direct agency that Wei WuXian doesn't have the luxury of. And he's so drawn to him for his ability to repeatedly say no, to refuse to get along, or make others laugh, make other people happy, but just simply follow what he thinks is right.

Wei WuXian’s outward wild movement protects an inward stillness. He is an exterior of people-pleasing around an interior of refusal. He is an exterior of youthful rebellion around an interior of unflinching morality. He sees in Lan WangJi the outward expression of his stillness, his morality, his resistance that he can't express, that he's had to protect.

FYI after the cut gets more into the dynamics of consent in the story, and the last paragraph directly talks about consensual non-consent kink play in wangxian’s relationship.

When Wei WuXian is with Lan WangJi, there is no work to be done. Lan WangJi cannot be swayed by him, and so there's no point vying for resources or favors. Lan WangJi will either give him everything or refuse him everything based on who he is, it does not matter what Wei WuXian does and he can't do anything that will change Lan WangJi’s mind. Someone he literally can't win over. After the resurrection, they are often in an adorable tug of war, where Wei WuXian tries to take care of Lan WangJi, while Lan WangJi won't allow him to but demands to care of Wei WuXian right back. Actually, Lan WangJi insists that Wei WuXian take everything he wants or needs from him and is even angry when he doesn't take or when Wei WuXian tries to offer a gesture in return, even something as simple as a thank you Lan WangJi won't accept. It’s kind of adorable how frustrated Wei WuXian is in doing this thing he's learned that he needs to do, and just... so confused by Lan WangJi, and has to find a way to please this person who aggressively refuses to be pleased and is ONLY pleased by Wei WuXian being pleased.

(Not to mention the way Wei WuXian delights in finding that Lan WangJi can’t say what he wants, and they have sort of these chaotic cohesive both-being-so-pleased-by-working-hard-to-please each-other moments where Wei WuXian is letting Lan WangJi please him by finding out what pleases Lan WangJi and giving it to him.)

The wildness Lan WangJi had always hidden within himself is something he sees as just as dangerous as Wei WuXian thinks of his desire to refuse. He saw his mother be socially alienated, shunned, and eventually die because of her wildness. His ability to survive in the world, aka to be accepted by his family, is contingent on him being able to control this inner wildness. From a young age (re: Phoenix Mountain kiss) he could only understand his sexual desires for Wei WuXian as something repulsive or dangerous that had to be repressed and controlled, and that the only way he could imagine his desires as possible was as non-consensual. His secret gay desires were never available to him as anything but something monstrous.

Importantly, it’s not like everyone else other than Lan WangJi are all vampires cruelly demanding Wei WuXian’s constant sacrifice. Wei WuXian is always vibrantly, charismatically offering so much, before anyone has asked. It’s Wei WuXian who creates this kind of relationship for himself again and again. It’s Lan WangJi who simply refuses - he refuses to charmed, to be cared for. And so in the end Lan WangJi becomes the one person who Wei WuXian feels doesn't need anything from him. When he says he's eating the corpse's fruit to save Lan WangJi money and Lan WangJi says that will never be necessary. Or when Wei WuXian asks what toy he should win for Lan WangJi at the market game, and Lan WangJi says anything Wei WuXian gets will be the one he wants. (XD stahhhhp it’s too sweet !!!) He really just wants Wei WuXian to be, to exist, to spend his life discovering his own desires and allow Lan WangJi to help satisfy them, he doesn't want anything from Wei WuXian other than him living - happy and safe.

It takes someone like Lan WangJi to refuse Wei WuXian’s aggressive generosity, it’s definitely not an easy thing to say no to Wei WuXian, dazzling or annoying people so chaotically before they even realize there’s something to say no to. The sacrifice he gives to Jiang Cheng, he never even offers a choice - and perhaps it would have been too much for Jiang Cheng to accept if he had the chance.

Lan WangJi’s statement "Between us there is no need for thank you and sorry" seems like one of the most important sentences in the novel, and you can’t help but noticed the way “sorry” and “thank you” is littered meaningfully through the book. What is owed, what the characters owe to each other, the give and take, touches every part of the story (down to wangxian's erotic explorations!).

When Jiang Cheng talks to Wei WuXian at the Guanyin temple he makes a lot of contradictory statements about what Wei WuXian owes, what he was given, what he took, what he (Wei WuXian still) is owed in return. Wei WuXian, according to Jiang Cheng, took everything from the Jiang clan, and paid them back with their deaths. The Jiang clan give him his life when they took him in, and he owed Jiang Cheng service for the rest of his life as the right hand to the sect leader, that’s what Wei WuXian had promised anyway. At the same time, Wei WuXian sacrificed everything (his golden core) to Jiang Cheng, by giving everything he was taking one more thing - Jiang Cheng’s right to even be angry at him. Jiang Cheng had taken everything from Wei WuXian. Everything that happened around Wei WuXian after could be said to be because of the loss of his golden core, which Jiang Cheng might be said to be responsible for. But he never asked for it, maybe he never would have wanted it. He wishes Wei WuXian told him, but Jiang Cheng never told Wei WuXian his golden core was melted while he was sacrificing himself to save Wei WuXian. He wants Wei wuxian to say sorry, but that makes him feel pathetic. And Jiang Cheng says sorry too. It’s a mess of paradoxes, and in the end somehow it seems like the scales are balanced in the most hollow, dismal way.

What is owed, what is given, what is taken ... Wei WuXian has never been part of a family. He has always had to say thank you and sorry for everything he's taken. Wei WuXian himself admits that he used "thank you" as a way to enforce distance between himself and Lan WangJi. Lan WangJi's point i think is that they belong to each other, Wei WuXian is his, and he is Wei WuXian's, unconditionally. The way that Jiang Cheng speaks of him in the Guanyin temple (admittedly I read a fan translation and this is very nuanced, related to slight variations of grammar), even when Jiang Cheng clearly is so broken by the loss of Wei WuXian from his life, he talks about Wei WuXian as an outsider. It is what MY family gave to YOU, never what you took from our family. But at one point Wei WuXian was part of their family - but he takes too much, and becomes an ex-disciple, not a brother. Wei WuXian’s inclusion as a Jiang was always conditional. 

Even when Wen Qing and Wen Ning leave him to go take the blame for qiongqing path they tell him "thank you and sorry", drawing a line between them and him, so he doesn’t even belong to these people who he sacrificed everything for. The way Wei WuXian acted when he was younger, he was always keenly aware of this - he always knew that he didn’t belong to anyone, no one is going to protect him unconditionally. And after first escaping the Burial Mounds, he is done pretending. When Lan WangJi warns him about what a demonic cultivation path will do to his heart, Wei WuXian replies: “After all, on the topic of how my heart is, what could other people know about it? Why should other people care about it?” He is done pleasing. Nothing has changed really, he still belongs to no one and is alone, but now he is angry about it, and instead of saying thank you and sorry he is going to become too powerful to be at anyone's mercy. And then we see in the story afterward what happens to people who don't say thank you and sorry.

The whole point I think is the impossibility of choice, the impossibility of consent in this society. If he didn't forgo the behaviour his social acceptance was conditional on, he wouldn't have survived the burial mounds. But once he becomes powerful enough to survive and get revenge on the Wens, he is socially outcast. Except he was already outcast from the beginning.

And so how do Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi find a way through all that to a life together where all their desires are possible, where Wei WuXian can say no while also being pleasing (safe) to others, and Lan WangJi can indulge in his wild desires while still being good? The answer is kinky sex!

It is kind of miraculous and beautiful how Wei WuXian finds a way to say no, while simultaneously pleasing Lan WangJi, giving pleasure, while taking it, saying no, and knowing his refusal is not just tolerated, but gives Lan WangJi pleasure, knowing Lan wangji and knowing the painful belief Lan WangJi holds within that his desires are unacceptable and unspeakable, and that Wei WuXian can take care of Lan Wangji in a secret little way and please him and give everything to him by craving this wildness in Lan WangJi while at the same time he gets to say no again and again , and it won't push Lan WangJi away, he can refuse everything while at the same time be totally pleasing and thus safe, and also for Lan WangJi, Wei WuXian's pleasure at saying "no" while still being held onto, that he genuinely wants to be fucked even while begging Lan WangJi to stop (and the many ways he does give his consent for this throughout, especially their first time), allows Lan WangJi the ecstatic feeling that this idea that his sexual desires are only possible through force are not just something his lover forgives him for but something his lover is SO turned on by, and that he has consent for his fantasies of non-consent, Wei WuXian has the same fantasies from the other side, he is doing what he is supposed to while doing what he shouldn't, and actually these monstrous feelings in him allow him to take care of Wei WuXian in a way that he needs - that they both need - and all these impulses that are so wrong with Wei WuXian become very right and a way to do good. And they are just both so perfect and perfect for each other and I love them and I am so happy for them to have a long kinky life together.

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

My Rumsfeld and Cheney story.

***

I am in my late 20s and have been at my job in the White House for several months. Despite my age, I have been handed the task of helping to organize and arrange the administration’s new initiative to expand the humanities in America’s schools. I have an Ivy League education but I know the real reason I have the job. It is because my father has been lifelong friends with the President and is one of his closest advisors.

But being this is Washington, my father has enemies. At the top of the list are Donald Rumsfeld and his acolyte Dick Cheney — notorious for their scheming, ruthlessness and ways to grab power at the expense of others, and they are eyeing up putting a knife in my father’s back.

I am walking down the hallway. There are two things in my mind. The first is career preservation. If my father is forced out by them, then my career goes down the toilet.

But the main reason is because of something I have finally admitted to myself — that they are both incredibly attractive, and I want to submit to them.

I see Rumsfeld’s hatchet face of a Secretary. She buzzes. I wait for a few minutes, hearing him laughing on the phone. Finally, he has me sent in as he peers over some files and is writing something on a notepad, not paying me any attention, giving me a terse, “How may I help you? I’m not sure I can be of any service to your program.”

I shiver.

“Well, Mr. Rumsfeld,” I say. He perks up a bit hearing the deference in my voice. “I did not come specifically to ask you that. I came today to tell you...” I gulp. “I came to tell you that I know you are coming after my father. And I want to tell you that I know you are going to push him. And that my full loyalty and allegiance is with you.”

He stops writing and looks up.

“I see,” he says, with no emotion at all. “You see, I know my way around Washington. And this is something that I find highly dubious. Some kind of trick. So, you may go, even though you are correct about your father’s fate.”

I knew he would doubt me. So I have him a file.

“Well, in advance of that, I prepared a briefing document for you. It is a lot of information you may find useful to destroy him. Not that you need my assistance.”

He opens the file, adjusts his glasses, and chuckles.

“Well, I know some of this already. But this... I will say, that this could be useful in making my job that much easier.”

He leans back and steeples his fingers.

“Of course, I still do not quite believe you yet.” He swivels his chair. “Come here now and kneel before me. Denounce your father and your entire family and beg me to accept your loyalty.”

I pace around the desk and get on my knees.

“I denounce my father and an ashamed of my family’s name. Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. I beg you. Please accept my allegiance to you. I promise I will serve you in any capacity that you wish, Sir.”

He lets out a Cheshire Cat smile and laughs.

“Very good. That is a good boy.” He then stands and beads to his belt. “Now there is one more chance to show your utmost loyalty. If you do this, and do this well... I will allow you the chance to serve me, as you put it.”

His pants and shorts drop with my assistance. He sits back down kingly, and I begin to take him in my mouth. His hand quickly moves to the back of my head, the weight of his Princeton class ring evident, as he steers me at the pace and depth he wants.

“That’s it. You’re starting to prove your worth to me. I assumed you were as worthless as your old man. But I can see what you think of me. Look up at me and tell me you worship me.”

I pant and look up at his smirking face.

“Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. I worship you like the superior person you are, and have done so since the first time I heard your name, Sir.”

He nods and forced my mouth over his cock again, now gripping my hair snugly and fucking my face. I am moaning as I suck away. Finally, I can hear him gasp a bit. Moaning, and I sense what is coming. He explodes all over my face, and then laughs.

“Let me look at you. The son of my arch-enemy, dripping in my cum.”

I let him look as he smiles at his trophy. Finally, he nods to the tissues, and tells me that I may clean myself up, he will be in touch, and I may take my leave. He then heads right back to his work, paying me no mind.

I head to the door and pause.

“Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. May I please say something before I leave?”

He looks up, nods, and tells me to be quick.

I walk towards his desk and am opposite it. I kneel once again, and this time cup my hands like I am praying.

“Thank you so much for letting me suck your cock, Sir. I know how lucky I am to be able to breath the same air as you, let alone to know I can pleasure you. I hope I have shown my allegiance to you, Sir.”

He looks at me with a stern and serious gaze, pausing as he does.

“You recognized your place and chose wisely to admit it. You’ll be able to rise up the ranks here so long as you remember that you are beneath me and you live to do as I order. Now you may take your leave.”

***

It is a few weeks later and he has finally been in touch. 7 pm. That night. His estate.

I arrive promptly. A maid answers the door. I head him laughing, and I am not sure who. The maid tells him that the guest has arrived.

I walk in and am paralyzed with fear. Flanking him to one side is Dick Cheney. To the other is his wife, Lynne.

“Well, there he is! The ambitious young man who will be a big help to us that I told you about.”

Their mouths drop a bit. Dick just stares at me coldly.

“Surely this is a joke,” Lynne says, hoping it is not the case. Rumsfeld tells her it is not, and then directs me to tell them both what I think about my father, especially in comparison to him, and what I wish for out of my life.

“My father is a pathetic excuse of a man and not even fit to shine your shoes, Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. The only thing I wish for out of life is to be your faithful servant.”

They both stare at me incredulously, although evil grins cross both of their faces. Rumsfeld smiles widely and orders me to tell them what I did to serve him. So I told them how I sucked his cock and was lucky to wear his cum.

“Now, boy. I want you to know something. It is very hard in DC to find people you can trust and actually respect. Dick and Lynne are the only two people alive I call friends and consider as my equals. And that means that you serve them, too. Do you understand that?”

“Yes. I understand that I also serve Mr. and Mrs. Cheney.”

“Oh, let’s see about that,” Lynne says, grinning as she leans back in her chair.

Lynne and I have crossed paths a few times in my past. I am tasked with the humanities project. She is in charge of the agency that issues our humanities grants. She does not like that I am running this program and let me know about this and has done all she can to prevent me from enacting it unless it meets her goals.

I turn to her.

“Now, I told you that you did not deserve the job you have. You probably thought it is because of your age or who your father is. But that’s not the reason why.” She pauses. “Tell me if you agree with me... but the reason why is because you are an idiot.”

I hear Rumsfeld stifle a laugh. But I have no choice, even though I hesitate.

“You’re right. I’m an idiot, Mrs. Cheney.”

She laughs and nods.

“I am so glad that we cleared that up. I am sure that from now on, you will do as I say. I will tell you the programs I support and how much I want them supported financially. You are going to meet with me once a week with a draft of succinct reasons why you now support exactly as I want, which you will then defend to the president. Of course, I know you lack the intellectual capabilities to perform something like that up to my standards, so you can expect me to red mark your work with a pen like a kindergarten teacher.” She smirks. “And I am sure your father will be in the room, too.”

“Now, there is more than just that. One thing I want you to do — anytime you enter my office, you will show me proper respect by kissing my feet. Why don’t you do that now?”

I steel myself, press my lips to her shoes, and then thank her as she laughs as loud as she ever has in her life. She tells me to stand up and then ask her husband what he thinks.

He just smiles at me. Before I can even say anything, he starts to speak.

“I am so glad that you have recognized this about yourself. It is not easy to admit you are inferior. But I have always seen a lot of potential in you.”

He continues to smile.

“It won’t be too long until your father is back home in Wisconsin where he will be buried. Once that happens, and I inherit his job, I am going to have a need for a chief aide. Usually, this job is in an advisory capacity. But for your role, I envision it more fit for your capabilities. Having me coffee ready. Shining my shoes before any important meetings. Not saying anything beyond ‘Yes, Sir,’ and ‘No, Sir,’ unless I tell you to speak beyond that. Any sort of errand or task me or Lynne or Don want, it gets done. Got that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Now, your peers and people who have worked for your father for a very long time are going to see you hold my coat or wipe off my desk for me. What do you think they will say about this?”

“They’ll mock me, Sir.”

“They will. But deep down inside, they are going to be jealous because each and every single last one of them wants to be in the position you find yourself in — dominated by your superiors.” I can see Rumsfeld not in agreement. “Now, you will also perform the same tasks that Don had you do... only I will not be so gentle. And I will also make sure Don keeps you on his calendar as well so you can continue to serve him as well, being that he made you his toy before sharing you.”

“And don’t worry. I will still find the time and ways for you to correct your work so you can try to come up to even half of our level.”

I meekly say “Thank you.”

Rumsfeld stands up, as does Lynne. He slaps me on the back,

“Just think that your epitaph is going to read about how you were the faithful servant to the most powerful three people who ever lived.” He and Lynne head to the door. “Now get on your knees before Dick.”

I do, and he chuckles and heads to his belt.

[honeybunhalo]

Day 22: Isolation (A late submission for DannyMay) (also sad clone hours time)

Y’all remember DannyMay2020. Well seeing as last month was really bad for me in general, I have only managed to post this now. Just trying to keep my brain occupied by something else. 

This page is Dani captured by the GIW. This is just a one off one comic page based on this story idea I had below. Look i know that this is different from the spunky Dani we all know but that's what kidnapping does to yah oops.

Story explanation: I (obviously) recently dove head first back into Danny Phantom stuff and I found a really unfinished script for a fan comic I wanted to make like two years ago tentatively titled The Facility. The premise was generally: the Guys in White find out Danny is Phantom and take him into custody (loosely based on this post). He is left in their care while his friends and family on the outside fight to get him out. The GIW is interested in other half ghosts and how they work. They are able to find Danielle and capture her as well. Both are in isolation but because Danny has people on the outside rallying for his human rights he is granted the regular visits of a psychologist (jazz’s insistence of course). He is also granted limited phone calls and letters. Jazz helped come up with a plan to insist one of their parents should be present at the facility at all times as a parent and scientist while they sort this mess out because damn human testing be fucked up even if they kinda dead tho. Maddie is the one who they choose to send. 

Danny is told there is another half ghost in the facility and after finding out it’s Dani he insists on seeing her. They also have to work to prove Dani should be released which is difficult with lack of paperwork for her proving she’s a real person. Other characters that are at least background characters in this: Sam, Tucker, Jack, Jazz, Valerie

The mood of it would be kind of serious given they are kidnapped children held against their will by a shady government agency. There would be hurt and comfort and some angst with a happy ending. Danny and Dani having a wholesome sibling relationship. Also an excuse for me to draw some angst and wholesome stuff. (remembering how to draw digital art is hard)

I have no idea if Vlad would show up in this or what his purpose to the story would be. I didn’t have much planned past that tho. Just some half cooked concept art. If anyone has any suggestions to boost the story I’m open to listening.

TL:DR; Danny is kidnapped/taken into custody by the GIW after they discover he's a halfa. It’s a reveal and subsequent coping story for those close to him who don’t know (ie his parents and Valerie). Dani is also in custody of GIW. Maddie Fenton plays a large part in trying to get her son and her new daughter out of the holding facility and coping with the revelation. Some angst with a lot hurt comfort and a good ending. Focus on family theme (pseudo found family theme for my clone girl) and trying for an equal amount of character analysis for both Danny and Danielle. 

------

Also this is separate from my other comic idea just FYI even if this also takes place post D-Stablized and without Phantom Planet.

My shading be off AF because I couldn’t decide how to shade ghosts but I might as well post this. I’m still going through my choices of the visual nature of this anyway.

Also I couldn't decide whether I wanted them in human form or ghost form but here I decided ghost form because why not. Also in human form they wear something like GIW issued prison-scrubs uniforms in the facility. Even if I did draw them in ghost form below. Yah so enjoy this unfinished concept art i drew a while ago (thus the style difference):

[ladybirdwithoutdots]

why Emma 2020 changed the proposal scene a bit?

I understand why some book fans don't like Emma bringing up Harriet in the proposal scene because, yes, in the book she thinks keeping Harriet’s embarrassing secret is the only thing she can still do for her friend. I get it doesn’t seem so canon compliant for her to tell him there; pointing that up is valid because you are just noticing a major difference between the book and the movie, and it might even seem contradictory for Emma’s character that she does the very thing that in the book she doesn’t want to do for a valid reason. However, I also understand why the movie makes this choice, and I think this is a case in point of what it means 'adaptation' and a creative team having to reconcile with the big differences between a movie and a book when it comes to storytelling and story structure. One major difference between a book and a movie is that in a movie, they show what happens in the story from an outside perspective where canon is limited to and defined as, essentially, only what the characters make you see, and what they explicitly say. If something doesn’t happen on screen then it isn’t real in the story.   A novel, on the other hand, tells a story from an inside perspective and is allowed, through a narrator (the author or the protagonist or another character) to make the reader actually know more than the characters in the story may know in that moment. The problem with a movie adaptation of this book in particular is that you can't read Emma's thoughts in a movie, and a lot of things about this book are based on her thoughts and a ‘narrator’ who can help you understand the motives of the character beyond what the character is explicitly telling others in that moment. That’s why, among other things, this movie chooses to make Emma’s feelings for Mr Knigthley obvious (on her face, in her reactions, in her jealousy) for us from the beginning, and regardless when she realizes them herself, instead of reducing it all only to the scene where Harriet confesses loving him herself, and Emma realizes her own feelings for him through the obligatory explanation scene with flashbacks, voiceovers or an added conversation between her and another character (though you could say that the added moment here where Harriet realizes, and thus says that Emma loves Mr Knightley too might serve that same function still).

I think that with the infamous proposal scene and its on screen adaptations, there are, surprisingly, two ‘issues’ a creative team may face:

1) The first issue is that, in the book, Emma is torn between her relief and joy that Knightley loves her back, and her anguish about Harriet for she doesn't know how she is going to face her and tell her that the guy loves her..and that she loves him back.  She takes her time and actively avoids Harriet because she feels guilty and that, for a time, ruins her own happiness a bit.

Given how many things still happen in the book between Mr Knightley’s proposal and the wedding, and the fact it’s near impossible for the creative team to put everything in a movie, if you only see Emma being happy about his declaration of love there (as if she doesn’t know Harriet wants him too) and then them getting married, it might seem like almost erasing her feelings from the novel a bit and make it seems she doesn't feel guilty about Harriet, or doesn’t care about her being in love with Mr Knightley too. That would go against her character growth a bit for she'd look, once again, selfish and lacking empathy and critical thinking about herself.

Of course, if you read the book you also know that she does think harsh things about Harriet after the latter tells her that she loves Mr Knightley (and she thinks he wants her too). Emma regrets including her in her circle, she thinks she has turned her into arrogant, vain girl for thinking Mr Knightley would really marry someone like her. However, all of that isn’t mutually exclusive with the fact she also matures, she does see her own responsibilities and arrogance and she blames herself for Harriet’s inevitable humiliation (the second!).

Too long don’t read: book Emma cannot be indifferent about the fact Harriet wants Mr Knightley too, and she isn’t.

In light of that, it’s easy to see why Autumn de Wilde changed things a bit in the movie and, in a way, tried to still insert that part of Emma’s thoughts from the book that would be very hard to include without a narrator’s voice. It’s also a change consistent with their own version and the fact they try to make Emma a better friend in the end ...

Emma really kind of gets everything she wants in the end, and we thought a lot about watching the movie after she behaves so badly and has this epiphany and she’s totally different now,” de Wilde said. “We really felt like we would not be able to enjoy it unless we saw Harriet transformed by their rift.” The solution: pushing Emma to actively make things right with Harriet and her best suitor before Emma can accept a much-desired proposal of her own.

Indeed, you could say that Emma gets it easier in the book than in the movie because in the novel everything works in her favor without her having to face Harriet and make any personal effort to help her.

This movie, instead, wanted Emma to really earn her happy end a bit more, and called her out on her faults in the funniest way possible during the proposal scene, well emphasizing her state of mind and conflict through the infamous nosebleed, that also ruins her perfect, poised appearance symbolizing her humanity and the fact that no matter how much she tries, she can’t keep a false control of everything and always be ‘perfect’ (and the beauty of that metaphor also lies in the fact that Knightley isn’t one bit grossed by what is happening, he still tenderly touches her face, he’s all love and concern for her. He’s the one person who always loved her with her imperfections too, he won’t love her less just because she’s human).

By making Emma reveal Harriet’s mess to Mr Knightley in that moment, not only you have a version of the events that is consistent to this movie, you also have an Emma that, in some way, is still consistent to the Emma you also read in the book, albeit just in her thoughts. It also emphasizes Emma's character growth all the more.

For sure, I agree with de Wilde about that. That said, if I want to play devil's advocate here I have to say that while Emma gets it easier in the book, their version kind of erases Harriet/Robert’s agency a bit for I prefer them finding their way back to each other (in the book) without any interference. I also maintain their ‘let’s do better for poor victim Harriet’ myopia results in them not really making Harriet act as a real friend for Emma, not even in the end, leaving their relationship very unbalanced simply because they didn’t realize that their Harriet, even more than her book counterpart, was wrong too and she too had to make amends and apologize for her own blindness about Emma’s feelings, and her selfishness and uncalled for anger when she realized Emma loved the same guy she wanted for herself. This is what happens when you have critical thinking about your main character, but not so much about the secondary ones; creative teams often forget that just because someone is the protagonist (and they get the happy end) and they may be wrong about something, it doesn’t mean they are wrong about everything.  I honestly feel really bad for Emma in that ‘I refused Robert Martin because of you’ scene in the movie because it really is the one moment where she is doing nothing wrong, and Harriet has no right making her feel like she’s the bad guy for loving a guy she had know since forever just because her ‘friend’ had decided she wanted him and deluded herself he wanted her too. If that scene is supposed to make me feel bad for Harriet they failed because it makes me find her annoying.  Maybe it’s personal experiences too for I well know what it means when you think you have a friend, but in reality that person doesn’t care about your feelings much, and just takes for granted that your purpose and your focus is just helping them. 

2) Another issue writers might find in adapting the confession scene from the book to a movie version is Mr Knightley's agency too.

Here’s the thing: her behavior in that scene is confusing to Mr Knightley for, in one moment she seems to not even want him to propose to her, but the next he understands that she loves him back. The poor man despaired, his heart broke when she seemed to reject him.

Austen, in her function of narrator, acknowledges this inconsistency in the book and she's like, yeah it must be very confusing for the guy but people rarely tell the whole truth to each other all the time and he's too happy in the end to ask himself why Emma acted so weird with him, and what matters the most is that he knows she loves him back and they can be finally together.

Still, he’s going to be all the more confused when, later, he tells her that Harriet has accepted Robert’s second proposal and where he expected Emma to be unhappy, given her oppositions to the guy before, he’s very surprised by her 180° and happiness for Harriet instead. He even says that.

Once again, I think if you are adapting the story for a movie where you don't have a narrator’s voice keeping the balance a bit and explaining what the characters can’t explain, it might seem like making this part of the story a bit unresolved for him (and him and Emma). It might not seem fully satisfying that he doesn't get an explanation and their misuranderstanding isn’t fully cleared up.

This movie resolves that by having Emma confess him that, basically, her confusing behavior was because she was scared he wanted to propose to another woman (because she loves him but she didn’t think it’s her he actually loved!), and then when he tells her that it's her he loves, she reciprocates but is also overwhelmed because there is still the issue of Harriet and it ruins her party in that moment because new Emma cannot be indifferent.

This Knightley can make sense of her behavior much better than in the book  and if he's still so happy in the end, it’s because he understands that Emma didn’t reject him for she actually loves him back, and in this version she needs to make amends with Harriet and Robert Martin before she can accept her own happy end. 

I also like what the director said about this scene, especially this point:

“I wanted to make that scene so romantic, and then just turn it on its head, because to say just like, they’re not perfect, they’re both just like a hot mess, and seeing Mr Knightley and Emma panic and try and solve a problem together is just as romantic as the proposal” 

you know what? I agree with her.

Let's be honest, btw, Emma trusts him. Book or movie, this is a fact. She may not tell him about Harriet there but I think even in the book’s canon, it’s not so impossible to imagine that one day, when it’s safe for her to because Harriet is happy with Robert etc, she may tell him the whole story to explain her behavior to him a bit more... and have a good laugh together about the absurdity of it all.

I shouldn’t need to say this but yeah, an adaptation doesn't 'replace' the book said adaptation is based on. It's not like this is the definitive story now. I just have no real issues with changes if there are reasons for them and they make sense with a particular version, and I don’t have issues with adaptations trying to find ways to include even those things that might actually be in the book too, but they seem impossible to convey in a movie. All things considered, this movie actually is one of the most faithful to the book and historically accurate adaptations of Austen ever made. When I watched it the first time, having read the book many times, I was really surprised by how much of the book’s text is included in this version and not really modernized or altered.

I maintain that this version of the proposal scene is as ‘valid’ as the others too. Given Austen doesn't write Emma's answer in that scene (you only know she makes him undestand in some way that she loves him back  and they agree to marry), it's fair to point up that all the adaptations had to create that part on their own to fill where novel doesn't tell you every detail (same thing with the dancing scene: Austen puts the proverbial fade to black there, and whether Emma and Knightley were overwhelmed by dancing together in the book, it is their business just like their honeymoon, or whether they make out during their  engagement...). Emma kissing him right there and then like it happens in other adaptations isn't a more likely scenario for a lady in regency era’s context than her getting a spontaneous nosebleed, just saying.  If anything, Austen’s depiction of her female characters was influenced by the fact that, at the time, while a man could be explicit and very emotional when declaring his feelings for  a woman, a lady had to keep her cool and couldn't tell a guy she loved him so men had to understand a woman recipricated them through their own subtle messages and codes. This isn't to say other adaptations are wrong for making them kiss there, and for adding more romance to that particular scene (just like it isn’t wrong for this adaptation to make the dance scene and what happens afterwards more emotionally charged than it usually is, and choose to also emphasize Emma’s own feelings for him a bit more), but it isn’t wrong for this adaptation to do something different and place a kiss in the other romantic scene instead (when he tells her he'll move to Hartfield) so that the romance isn’t resolved in his confession scene only.  Expecting all adaptations to be the same and interpret things in the same way means making things a tad too formulaic, tbh. And I don’t know why I should even want that. Personally, I like every version of that scene makes sense with their own adaptation, I don’t consider it a ‘flaw’ but a good thing.

I find it annoying when people reduce the love scene in this movie to the funny nosebleed thing only, anyway.  It seems like misrepresenting it a bit to pretend this adaptation is just silly things when it really isn’t like that (and even the nosebleed actually has a purpose for the director that is NOT ‘silly’ tbh).  Regardless the fact I actually like the whole scene including the funny twist in the end too, it’s still a romantic moment and his speech is actually delivered in a way that is very moving to me because Johnny Flynn makes the feelings of the character come across as so real on screen, and you can also see on Anya’s face (they are both crying!) all the confusion and love and amazement. I honestly have no complains about how the part that is written in the book, his speech, is delivered here because it’s really well done and the acting is on point. I really love the way they conveyed all the emotions on screen and I even felt like they conveyed some things about him better than previous versions.

[theredhairedmonkey]

Claudia—Just what’s so bad about Dark Magic anyway?

Ah, Claudia. Everyone’s favorite dorky Dark Mage. Even as she continues her journey to villainy, we can’t help but find her at least a little adorable.

She’s undoubtedly likable, which makes a lot of what she does even more unsettling. We’re used to villains like Viren, who are so obviously villains even if they have somewhat good intentions.

But Claudia? She seems to have a good heart and cares about people outside of simply what they can do for her. Even if she may not reciprocate Callum’s feelings, she’s still clearly fond of him.

In S2, she’s genuinely supportive of her brother, telling him that them being alive matters more than succeeding in their missions. She also comforts Ezran and even helps mend his relationship with Callum, reminding him just how lucky they are to have each other.

As I lay out here, Claudia very much resembles Callum in the earlier chapters; both are bookish nerds, adorably awkward, and with an affinity towards magic. And while Callum starts to move away from this resemblance, we can see why Claudia is so likable.

Claudia can be caring and sweet. That’s why it’s so tragic and painful to watch her continue to cross moral lines, to the point that she is now thoroughly antagonistic to Team Zym, with any hope of total redemption being slim at best.

Now, I can’t talk about Claudia without first talking about Dark Magic. You see, while Dark Magic is terrible, the show doesn’t explicitly lay out exactly why it’s terrible. It merely illustrates how it works, portrays people using it for a variety of reasons, and then lets the audience decide how it feels about it. This is all intentional—Aaron and Justin have expressly stated they didn’t want to push too hard on the point that Dark Magic is wrong, instead leaving it for fans to make up their own minds. As a result, some fans sincerely believe there’s nothing wrong with it.

And that’s why we have Claudia. Someone who is sweet and sincere, relatable enough that you picture being friends with.

Someone who also sees nothing wrong with Dark Magic, defends using it, and even tries to use it for supposedly good reasons.

Because there’s no explicit reason given for why Dark Magic is so uniquely evil, the onus is on us, the viewers, to figure this out on our own.

There have been several fan attempts at explaining why Dark Magic is so bad, but for me, at least, I always felt we were missing something.

It might be wrong because it requires Dark Mages to sacrifice innocent creatures. But then again, humans in the real world consume animals all the time.

The logical response to this is that unlike, for instance, eating, Dark Magic is not natural nor necessary. However, we do all sorts of unnatural things with animals as well. For instance, we’ve created animal glue, whale oil for lamps, and leather from cattle. We’ve used creatures as working animals as well as for their cells to develop cures and vaccines. Without arguing that Dark Magic is defensible, this just helps illustrate the larger point that there must be something else that makes Dark Magic worse than any of this.

Another argument I’ve heard is that it permanently destroys magical habitats. The reason why the Human Kingdoms are much less magical than Xadia is that Dark Mages have poached and pillaged all the creatures they could. This could all very well be true, but it’s also what human beings do on the regular in the real world; as a rule, wherever industrial civilization lays down its roots, animal extinctions follow, intentionally or not. If Dark Magic is supposed to be an indictment of the way our society works today and the ecological problems we’ve caused, then we deserve it.

But many of us (hopefully) are working to change that, even if it means making life harder for us. The solution to climate change ultimately comes in the form of learning to live sustainably and in harmony with the world around us. One day, we’ll find a balance to our way of life, but if we can, why can’t Dark Mages? Why can’t Dark Magic users learn to moderate and regulate their behavior the way we could, and sustainably find ways to use the same magic that elves and dragons take for granted?

It also doesn’t help that characters who hate Dark Magic the most are also hypocritical about it. Sol Regem argues that Dark Magic causes the death of innocent creatures…while threatening to burn down a city filled with innocent people. Perhaps he opposes Dark Magic, not for ethical or benevolent reasons, but because it shifts the balance of power too much in favor of these so-called “lesser beings.” So, we can’t take his assessment of Dark Magic with anything more than a grain of salt.

But, at the end of the day, Dark Magic is a bad thing. Even if we can’t place our finger on exactly why, we know there’s just something wrong with it.

And that’s where Claudia comes in.

She too doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with Dark Magic— Why should she? It’s no different than anything else humans do, it helps keep people alive, and keeps us from starving and being helpless. Whether you eat them or take their magic, they’re just a resource.

But over time, as she relies more on Dark Magic as her universal problem-solver, we see her cross more and more ethical boundaries.

In most of the first two seasons, Claudia’s uses of Dark Magic come entirely from whatever she happens to carry in her bag or little critters she finds here or there.

And, for the most part, she tries to do the right thing. Claudia understands how powerful Zym could one day become, and from her perspective, there is a risk that he could, in her words, reign “death and destruction down on all of us.”

Claudia honestly believes that finding the Dragon Prince and bringing the princes home is what’s best for Katolis. Initially, she believes that Rayla had kidnapped the boys, and later she still insists her actions are for the greater good.

She’s willing to cross certain lines, such as manipulating and betraying Callum and Ezran, but shows signs that she regrets doing so.

But she starts off at crossing these relatively smaller moral lines, before working her way to more reprehensible behaviors. By the end of S2, she crosses a line when she uses a living creature to cure Soren’s paralysis.

After this moment, we see that she’s willing to justify an ever-growing list of horrible actions without any regrets. Whether it’s overthrowing and imprisoning Ezran, wiping out Lux Aurea, or turning the entire army into mindless rage-fueled minions, and even possibly letting Viren’s illusion strike down Ezran.

By the time she resurrects Viren, most likely by using a poor unfortunate elf who stumbled upon her, she’s past the point of feeling remorse for what she feels she has to do.

And why?

She places all of her faith in Viren because he’s family. She values her family above all else, and finds that Dark Magic is an easy, reliable way to keep it all together.

As a result, her character’s arc helps show what’s fundamentally wrong with Dark Magic—because it’s such an easy fix to all her problems, Claudia is tempted to lean on Dark Magic in more unethical ways.

In Lord Acton’s famous maxim, power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

And Dark Magic is power incarnate.

Dark Magic is far more versatile than Primal Magic. Whereas Primal Magic lets a mage use spells by harmonizing with nature, Dark Magic is simply about harnessing power in its raw form.

It’s not merely a shortcut that lets you bypass having an Arcanum or a Primal Stone. Certain practices within Dark Magic are not possible elsewhere.

If Callum had mastered Sky Magic by the time Rayla goes to save Pyrrah, he could have made short work of Soren and his forces with his winged form, but actually freeing the dragon from its chains would have still been no easy task.

But with Dark Magic, all Callum needed was a spell. A single spell and the chains are turned into snakes. The soldiers are driven away, and the dragon is free.

You can’t do that with Primal Magic.

We haven’t seen a limit to what Dark Magic can do for you, provided you have the materials. It can swap souls.

Or take them.

It can provide safe passage across the Breach.

It could taint or even destroy sources of Primal Magic.

Dark Magic isn’t bad just because it relies on sacrificing creatures. It’s bad because it tempts users with the power to redesign and reorganize the fabric of the world around them, potentially at the expense of Primal Sources themselves.

Dark!Callum sums up this temptation perfectly:

“You can have unlimited power. And you can choose what to do with that power. You can make a real difference in the world!”

And sadly, it’s a temptation that Claudia falls for time and time again. Once Claudia wields this power, she’s tempted to abuse it, even if it just begins as an attempt to protect her loved ones. And the more she abuses it, the harder it is to stop.

She shows that the temptation to use Dark Magic and how it distorts the world is what makes the practice so terrible and so terrifying that it shouldn’t be used in any circumstance.

@batfamfan1(who gave me permission to bring up our conversation here) had argued that Claudia’s use of Dark Magic was different from Viren and Aaravos, because she at least uses Dark Magic for good (or what she sees as good). That is, she cures or protects her family.

However, I’d argue that it’s not as simple as that. Claudia indeed sacrifices a deer because she wanted to cure Soren, but had she ever considered what Soren wanted? There’s a reason why, for instance, doctors disclose all relevant facts and treatments to a patient and let them make an informed decision, even if the doctor believes only one of those treatments is the best option. It’s not just about a cure, it’s about the agency of the patient. This becomes even more important when it’s not a professional responsibility to a patient, but a duty to respect the free will of someone you love.

Claudia never respects Soren’s agency. Even when he’s come to terms with his condition, she has not. She wants to keep trying to find a cure even while he’s beginning to move on. And, when she does find a cure, she never tells him about it beforehand, never tells him what it would cost, and never tries to get his approval.

This is different from Rayla in 2x08 who, in spite of knowing it’s a bad idea to let Ezran leave on his own, lets him go. Or Callum, who, in spite of thinking that Rayla staying on the Spire is a bad idea, simply lays out all the relevant information to Rayla and lets her make the decision for herself.

This is because, when you love or care about someone, that has to include letting them make their own choices, even if you don’t agree.

Claudia never does this with Soren because, again, it’s not about him, but about her. She has a personal need, however tragic, to keep her family together and healthy.

She’ll do what she can to fill that need, even if she has to play goddess to do so.

For that reason, she isn’t using Dark Magic for someone else’s benefit but her own. Much like Viren, whose stated goal to defend humanity was really just a cover for his desire to be powerful, Claudia’s goal to protect her family is really about protecting her state of mind. To do that, she needs to become powerful as well.

Her inability to see just what’s wrong with Dark Magic, combined with her need to maintain this portrait of a healthy family alive, means she will always be tempted to try another Dark Magic spell that will simply cure everything and will never look back once she tries it.

This is different than, for instance, Callum. As I describe here, he’s seen the world that Rayla shows him and begins to see magic the way she does. It’s not a tool; it’s a phenomenon, a vibrance or a spirit to things.

He understands, at least in an unstated way, that there’s something fundamentally wrong about Dark Magic, because it threatens that vibrancy.

Interestingly, unlike Claudia, who sees it as an easy solution to everything, Callum is suspicious because it’s too easy:

“But that’s just it! Too easy! Even though I know it’s wrong.”

Because of this, Claudia’s character arc helps illuminate what’s wrong with Dark Magic, even if the show doesn’t go out of its way to tell us. It’s a temptation for people who want to be powerful, and it makes them just powerful enough to abuse it.

And before you know it, you’ve lost your way.

[swanlake1998]

Article: Tokenism vs. Representation: How Can We Tell Them Apart?

Date: January 19, 2021

By: Theresa Ruth Howard

Last year's Black Lives Matter protests jolted the ballet world into action. All of a sudden, things that once "took time" instantaneously became easy fixes, like it was an episode of Oprah's favorite things for Black people: "You get an opportunity, and you get an opportunity!" Much of this sudden, reactionary change has elicited high levels of skepticism, prompting the query: Is this true representation or is it merely tokenism?

There is empirical data that white people seldom keep word when it comes to BIPOC individuals. Social justice (especially when it comes to Black people) has almost always been a trend, a tool wielded to benefit white people more in the end, and there usually is an end marked by a lull and a slow, silent rolling back of the majority of what has been accomplished.

In the early stages of addressing systemic racism, until companies have a proven track record, it will always be a "damned when you do, damned if you don't" situation. Trust must be earned. Nothing done will be enough because it feels like trying to make an ocean out of a desert with an eye dropper.

That is not to say that there isn't meaningful progress being made. We are in the midst of a global shift. Power is being redistributed, rules and criteria are being altered. The standards of what was once acceptable, or enough, no longer suffice. People are no longer just "grateful" to have a seat at the table—not only do they expect to eat, they want to help plan the menu. The truth is, we lack a suitable metric to measure this progress because we have never been here before.

What is “representation”? What exactly is “tokenism”? 



The Oxford Dictionary defines "tokenism" as "the practice or policy of making merely a token effort or granting only minimal concessions, especially to minority or suppressed groups."

The complexity of the question "What qualifies as tokenism and what as representation?" rivals that of Blackness itself. There is often a conflation perhaps because representation is part and parcel of tokenism, making it difficult to discern one from the other, or at what point it shifts. What it looks like for the bystander may not be how it is experienced by the person in the situation.

It is important to note that the act of being the "only" or one of a few does not in and of itself amount to tokenism. Too often that assumption is made by the public and it is unfair, reductive and wounding to those holding those spaces. What determines tokenism depends more on why and how someone occupies the space.

This is where the process of diversification gets slippery, manufacturing conflicts of confidence for Black dancers who, like sacrificial lambs, may question the reasons they were hired, cast or promoted. Were they given an opportunity for their talent, or because they are Black, and in what measure? These are often the speculative whispers from colleagues, classmates, parents and patrons. It is a psychological head trip to which one will rarely get a satisfactory answer.

The way diversification is approached says everything. When the motivations are authentic, there will be respect, sensitivity and mindfulness; an effort to cultivate cultural competence will be made. This requires a great deal of humility. In order to be able to interact effectively with people of different cultures, racial and ethnic backgrounds, you have to admit that you have blind spots, and are ignorant of things and, more importantly, are desirous to learn. This requires engaging them as human beings, not just tools as a means to an end.

Faculty additions 

The recent hiring of full-time Black faculty members at Boston Ballet School (Andrea Long-Naidu), Pacific Northwest Ballet School (Ikolo Griffin), San Francisco Ballet School (Jason Ambrose) and School of American Ballet (Aesha Ash) all came to fruition during the COVID-19 crisis and the BLM reckonings. All four schools were part of the Equity Project's 21-ballet-organization learning cohort—the three-year partnership between Dance Theatre of Harlem, Dance/USA and the International Association of Blacks in Dance that aimed to increase the presence of Blacks in ballet, onstage and off. (Full disclosure, I was a member of the design and facilitation team.) There were a number of school directors in the room, including BBS director Margaret Tracey, PNB's Peter Boal (artistic director of both school and company), SFBS's former administrator Andrea Yannone and director Patrick Armand, and SAB's chairman of faculty Kay Mazzo.

One of the constant discussions was the importance of having representation on school faculties; it was drilled into their psyches. There were multiple conversations, and eventually the ball started rolling downhill. Unfortunately, the news of these faculty additions was only made public after last summer's social media protests by Black ballet dancers, making them appear reactionary.

The announcements began with a cacophony of press about Ash's appointment at SAB, which was met with underground backlash. Much like the overwhelming coverage about New York City Ballet's first Black Marie in 2019, which other companies had been quietly and consistently doing for years (without fanfare), the jump over contrition and bolt towards heroism for many soured representation into tokenism. In contrast, when Balanchine took Arthur Mitchell into NYCB as its first Black principal dancer, Mitchell asked that there not be a press release heralding the advancement. Instead, he wanted simply to appear onstage as a matter of fact.

When you wave a flag too hard late in the game, and are overly pleased with the little you have done over decades, you get no pat on the back. Though pleased for Sister Ash, inherent distrust has the Black community sitting with its arms folded, watching and waiting to be served the pudding that holds the proof of change.

This is the flip side of the representation coin. Organizations can dust their hands off and feel good about the progress they have made, while the actual burden and responsibility of "representing" gets laid squarely on these new Black hires. Ironically, these Black instructors return to the space of racial isolation they inhabited as dancers, with one major difference: Now they are expected to be an agent of change.

With the media blitz around her being SAB's first full-time Black faculty member, Ash is very clear when I ask her what her role is. "I am a teacher," she says. "I am not there to transform the entire structure. I was hired to be a teacher and I am hyper-focused on being the best darn teacher that I can be."

Her refrain sounds exactly like most Black ballet dancers who just want to dance, but whose very presence is a statement of silent resistance to a centuries-old system of whiteness. With this lack of representation, coupled with the increased visibility via social media—whether intended or not—they are instantaneously branded as "role models," and saddled with the pressure of expectations from the public at large, the Black community specifically, as well as their organization.

For these new faculty members, if and when their institutions make a faux pas, you can be certain the first question will be "Where were they?" When presented with this reality, Ash resolutely replies, "Let's make it very clear that I'm not the executive director or the artistic director of the School of American Ballet. But if I see things that don't look right to me, I'm absolutely going to feel very comfortable going in there and saying 'This does not look right.' " She sees her role as a long-time member of the Alumni Advisory Committee on Diversity and Inclusion as the space to do that.

Conversely, when asked what Ash's role is, Mazzo replies—along with giving glowing compliments about Ash's teaching abilities—"We feel that we hired an activist who wants to make more change," referring to her creation of her Swan Dreams Project. "We'll look to her for her perspective, her opinions or insights or feedback. It'll carry an enormous amount of weight as we continue to evolve and learn. I think she might not even realize what that means."

It could well be within this sliver of obfuscation that genuine representation can curdle into tokenism—the space where boundaries are unclear and assumptions are made. There has to be an agreement and clear boundaries with veto power enabling a person to control the way their Blackness, gender, sexual orientation or identity (in body and voice) are utilized both internally and externally for it not to wander into the realm of tokenism.

A person's desire to participate (and to what degree) should not be assumed because they represent a particular demographic. Having your thoughts, feelings, experience and emotional labor taken into consideration is something that is often not afforded to marginalized people. Being granted the power of choice with regards to participation, though not the norm, would be equitable. In this way the truest measure of whether something is tokenizing lies with the person in the experience: If they have agency and are empowered, it matters little how things appear.

In extending the invitation to Andrea Long-Naidu to join the Boston Ballet School, director Margaret Tracey was clear: "I need someone like this to hold me accountable. Knowing Andrea's commitment to supporting the Black student in the white ballet world made me think this is the kind of person I need on my team." The discussions between the two solidified what feels like a developing partnership.

Long-Naidu is looking for a space that will allow her to stretch into her desire to be a part of the change, and influence the field's push towards diversification. "I want to be at a high-level ballet institution where I am working with dancers, where I can make a difference," she says. Over the past five years she has been stepping into her power, both as an educator and as an advocate. "I am finding my voice in this work. I want to be a part of helping predominantly white institutions be more welcoming for Black bodies."

It helps that the two share history as former NYCB dancers, allowing for the uncomfortable dialogue necessary both for the learning curve and the strengthening of the new allyship. They align in their growth journeys: Tracey is prepared to receive radical feedback and Long-Naidu is ready to share. "Andrea is my first hire where I have shifted my focus from whether this outside person is a good fit for us to making sure that our environment is not stuck in a place that may not allow someone like her to fit in," says Tracey.

Casting and marketing

We all want to see Black and brown dancers rise through the ranks. What we don't want is Black dancers being cast when they are not ready, or prepared for a role just for a company to showcase it has them. This is the epitome of tokenism and sets dancers up to fail, a luxury, by virtue of their Blackness, they do not have. Blackness is held to a different standard so unlike their white peers, whose failings are their own, the "representation" Black dancers carry comes with the heavy burden of the entire race.

Artistic directors might not view it this way when casting, but being culturally competent would mean taking this into consideration. When fast-tracking a Black dancer, true equity would mean providing the extra support (technical and emotional) they might need to have them succeed. Hence, it's not about what is normally done; it is about what is necessary in this instance.

Tokenism in casting can stigmatize the dancer amongst their peers and the artistic staff, setting off the cascade of whispering echoes of "They only got it because they are Black." Even though white people have been getting opportunities because they are white for eons, it creates yet another level of isolation, stress and vulnerability in a Black dancer, potentially crippling both their confidence and their career.

Ballet organizations that have been actively working to educate and examine themselves, and are successfully expanding recruitment, increasing diversity in training pipelines, company rosters, faculties and administration, are grappling with how to best communicate progress without tooting their own horns too loudly. This is the space between a rock and a hard place; if they quietly go about their work, no one will know, and if they promote too heavily it could be perceived as pandering.

This culture shift demands transparency. Gone are the days of blind acceptance; the people demand receipts. Ballet has seldom had to explain itself, aloft at the pinnacle of the dance hierarchy, supported by centuries of tradition, the very act of "showing" deemed beneath it. Those days are on the wane.

The majority of ballet companies use the traditional rankings system. Star power is real, ballet lovers are loyalist, and marketing campaigns often follow suit by using images of principal artists or those performing lead roles. Hence, when most of your diversity (specifically Black dancers) resides in the corps de ballet, purposefully diverting from the marketing norms to telegraph the presence of nonwhite artists is by definition tokenism.

That is, of course, if marketing followed that hierarchy to begin with. When Tamara Rojo took the helm of English National Ballet in 2012, the company underwent a rebrand, highlighting ENB as a company that tells stories. Together with Heather Clark Charrington (director of marketing and communications since 2014), she transformed the promotional black-and-white backstage images into evocative art pieces capturing a moment, feeling or mood of a work. Together, Rojo and Charrington identify the dancer who can best capture it, regardless of rank or role. Many times there isn't correlation between the dancer on the poster and the principals on the stage.

Ironically, this nonhierarchical norm had gone unnoticed until 2018, when the breathtakingly stunning poster of Swan Lake featuring Precious Adams was released, and comments about casting and tokenism were raised. This is a prime example of when righteous indignation based on assumptions and lack of knowledge results in possible collateral damage to the very person you are advocating for. If companies are expected to do better by their artists, then the public needs to check itself, as well.

We need new procedures and practices to check our work. If your whole marketing department is white, perhaps consider enlisting the eyes of nonwhite members of the organization or cultivating external critical friends to look through a different lens to vet images and copy. The trick is you have to trust and listen to their feedback.

COVID commissions

The call to give Black choreographers opportunities was right up there with the call for ballet teachers, and the excuse was the same: "We can't find them." It seems that the glow from the world being on fire illuminated the field such that suddenly Black choreographers could be seen raining from the sky like extraterrestrial squids in Watchmen.

Black folk have been in the game long enough to know that the majority of recent commissions are purely reactionary. "Of course when I received multiple commissions, it crossed my mind that it was in alignment with the Black Lives Matter movement…and being a Black woman I tick two boxes," says Francesca Harper, who has eight commissions on deck. "I have been creating films since the beginning of my career—two of the companies came to me specifically because I can create something for film."

However, the nagging question of Blackness versus talent conjures uncertainty. "You wonder, Are they really looking at me?" asks Harper. "Are they looking at my work? That, for me, is always a painful moment."

Darrell Grand Moultrie is another of the numerous Black choreographers the ballet world is now inviting to take center stage, albeit virtually. While he has choreographed repeatedly on Atlanta Ballet, Colorado Ballet, Dance Theatre of Harlem, Cincinnati Ballet, BalletMet, Ailey II, Milwaukee Ballet, Tulsa Ballet, Richmond Ballet, Smuin Ballet, Sacramento Ballet, when American Ballet Theatre's Kevin McKenzie called to extend an invitation, according to Moultire, McKenzie apologetically said, "Unfortunately, I have not been exposed to your work."

Before Moultrie accepted the commission to choreograph in a bubble for ABT's virtual gala in November, he made three things clear: "First of all, I wanted this to be on the Met stage," Moultrie says. The second was a commitment to make that happen post-COVID. The third was he wanted to up McKenzie's "exposure" to Black choreographers in the game. McKenzie agreed.

"I think my commission with ABT is Kevin opening up to see who is out here," Moultrie says. However, that work should have already happened: Over the term of the Equity Project (which ABT was a part of), names of Black choreographers were often bandied about, including veterans Donald Byrd, Robert Garland, the overlooked Christopher Huggins, and Jennifer Archibald, who deserves a bump up, and Amy Hall Garner, who is on the come up.

The "it takes time" and "we can't find" mantras are to some degree the by-product of a lackadaisical attitude. One can believe that these recent gestures are earnest attempts to right a wrong. But the ease with which it could have been done before (and was not) is insulting, and makes it look and feel like tokenism.

It always feels like when Black people's houses are on fire, white folk can't seem to find a cup of water to fill it, yet when their houses are ablaze, here we come with buckets and hoses, always in service. At this critical time when the world is operating in crisis mode and on the learning curve of working remotely and presenting digitally, it feels like Blackness is used as a convenient tool to get out of the diversity doghouse. The fact that these opportunities are being given with anemic budgets cannot be overlooked and one has to wonder if these commissions offer parity.

Black people are too familiar with this type of post-woke euphoria, white guilt and shame married to a need to save face, creating just enough access and opportunity to smother the flames. Then, slowly, things begin to settle pretty much where they were before.

That being said, this time feels different (though we say that every time) because the landscape and the rules have changed. Increased exposure, transparency, the power of influencers' individual platforms and call-out culture all make it possible for anyone to write or contribute to the narrative. This collaborative quilt of divergent perspectives, which in time will become history, will now include more voices and experiences, forming a mosaic revealing a more comprehensive picture.

The work that ballet is attempting is a process, not a project. As to whether or not this is sustainable representation or mere tokenism, Moultrie sums it up this way: "We know what is happening right now is just a reaction. A good reaction, but only time will tell."

[magos-dominus]

FFVII: REMAKE Exists to Mock Your Pain

This is a post about Aerith Gainsborough.

If you are wondering, this is not a post about shipping.  It is also very long. 

I do talk about the love triangle from a narrative construction and game design standpoint, though. If that interests you, go ahead. If not, scroll on.

+++ Open Spoilers for FFVII (1997) and FFVII: REMAKE +++

So, my reading of FFVII’s infamous Love Triangle has always been that, in the text, there, uh…

Isn't one.

Not really.

The structure of the entire narrative and the trajectory of Cloud's and Tifa's character arcs are built around the two of them baring their vulnerabilities at each other in a rare moment of acceptance, connection, and understanding. You might argue that we never see them physically intimate, here them say those three little words, or even engage in a few PDAs, that the nature of their relationship isn’t clear.

But to be honest?

Who cares that we don’t?

Something we can learn from Good Omens is that, if two characters have to kiss or fuck or say ‘I love you’ to convince you that they’re head over heels for each other, the story is either poorly written or you don’t really understand the meaning of the word.

I have a higher opinion of this game than that, and I want to have a high opinion of you, gentle reader.

The Lifestream Sequence is the emotional climax of the game’s narrative. The rest is simply clean up and denouement. However, that fact does beg the question: "What then, is the narrative purpose of Aerith's attraction to Cloud?"

To start, it's not a connection to Zack Fair, given that in the OG he's more plot device than person. So, what is it then?

I'd argue, that through a combination of incident and design, the Triangle exists at the crux of two competing narrative threads, held in tension by the fact that, as an audience, we share our perspective with the POV character, Cloud in this instance, and the plot works through him to us, most of the time. These two narrative threads are:

Establishing and foreshadowing Cloud's romantic feelings for Tifa as present and important to him and his character.

Getting the audience, not Cloud, to fall in love with Aerith Gainsborough.

If you’ll allow me to put my Doylist hat on for a moment, I have some trivia for you.

As an interesting hiccup of human psychology, the wad of soggy bacon that is your brain is incapable of distinguishing, on an emotional level, between real people and fictional ones. This is why you can start to feel like, after watching the same streamer or listening to the same podcast for long enough, you might start to feel like the hosts are your friends, even if you logically know that isn't true. It is the fundamental psychological reason fiction can resonate with us, despite us knowing it’s, fundamentally, an entertaining lie. Video games, as an interactive medium, can dig into this phenomenon like no other form of storytelling. With Aerith, you might have spent 20 to 30 hours with her by the time you get to the Forgotten Capital. You’ve laughed and fought and maybe cried with her across two continents and a trio of plot arcs. She’s a person the audience has, via Cloud, shared a whirlwind, globe-spanning adventure.

The reason that its her death, out of all the other fictional deaths we’ve experienced, out of all the deaths within FFVII itself, that hurts the most, is because that, by the time she leaves the Temple of the Ancients on her own, she doesn’t just feel like Cloud’s friend.

Its over just when she feels like she’s become yours.

Not content to simply to explore the grieving process of its own characters, FFVII reaches out to take something from you, and have you grieve with them.

A recurring and oft-pointed-out design decision is the empty space left by Aerith after she dies. Holes in group formations, gaps in menus, etc. Places where she used to be. A reminder of the loss, or more optimistically, a commentary on how she’s still with the party in spirit.

I would argue that it might just as easily be you in that space. AVALANCHE is a rag-tag group of misfits bound together by their grief, and when you leave the Forgotten Capital, you’ve been blooded. You’re trauma-bonded to the group now, and you’re all there, shoulder-to-shoulder to do right by your fallen friend.

It’s a gimmick that appears on the ludic level as well. Cloud’s various panic attacks, out-of-body experiences, and struggles for control are experienced by the audience through the mechanics. Sephiroth manipulates Cloud by disrupting, blocking, and limiting your connection to him. he isn’t just denying Cloud agency, he’s reaching out through the fourth wall to deny you your own.

To personally victimize you.

Once you leave the Forgotten Capital, the dialogue choices vanish. You are no longer Cloud’s co-pilot. The trauma and grief has severed that connection you had with him. You can’t do anything to help or guide him anymore. He’s on his own and you, along with Tifa, have to watch him slip out of your grasp and into the hands of an enemy all three of you are powerless to fight.

Final Fantasy VII isn’t a video game.

Final Fantasy VII is an elaborate mouse trap masquerading as a late-90′s JRPG, and Aerith Gainsborough, part-time human, full-time hello kitty monster truck, is an insidiously crafted piece of fine Swiss Gouda. It is designed, from script to visuals to music, to fill your heart to bursting and then run it over with a sixteen-wheeler; then leave you reeling for long enough that you don’t hear the tell-tale crunch of rubber-on-asphalt as it backs up over your pulped torso for good measure.

Which brings us to REMAKE. Namely, why did they cut a lot of scenes from the OG’s script that heavily featured Aerith flirting with Cloud? Or suggested there might be something there, between them, to the audience? It’s for the same reason that Sephiroth no longer has his trademark slow-burn rise to the center of the stage.

Those plot points no longer served their narrative purpose.

REMAKE is, functionally, a pseudo-sequel. A retelling that exists in conversation with a past version of itself, and is constructed with the assumption that the audience is, at least passingly, familiar with its legacy. 

Sephiroth doesn’t get a mysterious build-up because everyone already knows who he is and what he’s about, he and Aerith are familiar with at least a broad-strokes version of the script because the audience already knows it by heart, Cloud gets headache flashbacks of scenes from the OG when we see something we know will be picked up down the line, and Aerith isn’t pushed as hard as a love interest to the audience because we’re already attached to her at the hip.

Aerith seemingly knows about her fate, and while the game leans heavily on suggesting Tifa and Cloud’s shared romantic feelings, even moreso than the original did in this segment, it still holds space for Cloud to pursue Aerith, should you choose. However, she all but talks past him and directly to the audience in her Chapter 14 Resolution scene, warning us away and signposting an oncoming tragedy so that we might brace for it when the time comes and spare us any unnecessary pain.

Her character development gets fast tracked too, through knowledge granted from the Arbiters, she grows quickly towards her late-disk-one identity as the Last Ancient. She gets a piece of the closure with Zack she might get at the Gold Saucer on her date with Cloud, a chance to say goodbye to the last bit of her normal life before she was able to fully embrace the fact that it was gone. She even gets the closing speech this time, last words usually reserved for the protagonist.

But that’s what she is at the end of REMAKE, isn’t it? The only one on the same playing field as Sephiroth and the only one who might be on the same page as the audience. Equal parts the Aerith that just left Midgar and the Aerith that we saw leave for the Forgotten Capital back in 1997, on a mission to protect her friends from the danger that lay on the path she knew she had to walk. 

All of us now get to walk that path on more time.

Maybe this time we’ll get to walk it with her. Maybe this time we’ll get that happy ending. Hell, maybe Zack makes it out fine too and we get that heartfelt reunion our hearts bled for when finished Crisis Core. Maybe yours is still bleeding.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

The Arbiters subplot exists to taunt us with these possibilities, to roll back our grief from acceptance to bargaining to denial, if we ever reached those stages to begin with. I can almost see our girl getting to go home this time, safe and happy and surrounded by her newfound misfit family, free of the crippling loneliness that’s haunted her entire life.

But to be honest?

All I can see is a better mouse trap.

[jackalgirl]

Exerpt

@damejudyhench tagged me for WIP Wednesday (thank you!), and now it's Thursday, whatever, I've been fairly* busy helping out the SCA with heraldic art and it's crunch time for this event, which is why I've been absent.

* Speaking of "fairly', I still have a couple of asks in from the @random-oc-questions-fairy which I will get to, I swear, they're just really good questions for which I don't have any quick responses.

Anyway, though, here's a bit from my ever-languishing draft of "the Journeyman". I think just about everyone I know has already been tagged, so if you see this and would like to consider it a ping, please do so -- I always love to see people's work in my feed!

----------------- Maximillian ------------------

“What does your corporation do?” Parvati asked. “What does it make? Weapons? Medicine? Food?”

“People,” the Captain said. “We make good people.” Max glanced at Parvati and Felix and saw that they were as nonplussed as he was. The Captain must have seen it, too, because she quickly explained further. “Perhaps it’s more accurate to say ‘education.’ We specialize in different ways to teach, to learn. We want to maximize everyone’s potential as a fully realized human being, but for that most part what we end up doing, usually, is take on contracts to train other corporations’ employees, that sort of thing.”

“You’re a teacher,” Parvati said, and Max noted the dubiousness in her voice. I have my doubts as well.

“Me? No,” said the Captain. “Not yet. I’m a bodyguard for the teachers. Or I was supposed to be, coming here.”

Parvati nodded. “That makes more sense. I never knew any teachers that shoot like you do.” Her brows knit. “Why do teachers need bodyguards?”

“Why indeed?” Max murmured.

The Captain tilted her head. “SEPA is dedicated to improvement through education, and we take particular care to be honest in our assessments of corporations’ training, capabilities, and limitations. Sometimes people, and especially corporations, don’t appreciate that honesty. Sometimes they attempt to disagree violently, or they think that removing or installing a particular executive or assessor will somehow change the assessment. Thus, bodyguards.”

“Why the need to be violent?” Max asked. “Why don’t they just…fire you?”

“The corporation has…well, had, I suppose…a considerable reputation for excellence and impartiality. It meant something, to be SEPA-certified in your training. Certification through an outside agency with a reputation for impartiality is hard, you see. The Earth Directorate required it for some contracts, as a kind of guarantee. When I think about it, our real product was the impartiality.”

“Big contracts?” Asked Parvati.

“Huge contracts,” said the Captain. “Systems-wide.”

“It sounds like a lot of money would be involved,” said Max. “And power.” That explains the bodyguards. And her skill.

“Do Halcyon corporations have any kind of certification process?” The Captain asked them.

“Uh,” said Parvati. “All my engineering certifications I ever got are Spacer’s Choice. I never heard of a corporation having to answer to any other corporation, just to the Board.”

“And the Board is made up of the corporations themselves,” said Max.

“Ah,” said the Captain. “That would certainly make things easier for them here.”

“How can your corporation maintain this impartiality over time?” Max asked. “With that much power and money, something has to give. The incentives to sell your impartiality…it would be immense.”

“I’d be naive to say it never happened,” the Captain said. “But our corporate culture is…” She stopped, looked up, looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure how to say this without it coming out completely crazy,” she said, looking between them. “Virtue is our core mission. It’s the backbone of the culture. It tends to suppress that kind of corruption.” She held up her hands in surrender. “Not prevent it entirely, I grant you. No one can be perfectly virtuous all the time. But the constant striving tends to suppress the temptation.”

“What do you mean by virtue?” Max asked.

“To do the right thing when no one is looking,” said Aethel. “I grant you that we could spend a year discussing what ‘the right thing’ means, but for the moment, that is essentially what it is.”

“Everyone in the corporation does this?” Again, Parvati sounded doubtful.

“Probably not,” said Aethel. “But people who don’t hold the same values tend to get weeded out.”

“Weeded out? You mean they’re killed?”

“What? No!” Aethel looked startled. “They find some other corporation to work for. The company helps them find a better fit elsewhere.”

“In the ground?” Evidently, Parvati was still skeptical.

Aethel’s eyes widened and she leaned back. “What kind of a place is this?”

Max held up his hands. “Parvati is exaggerating,” he said. A little. “I’m assuming you weren’t the only employee of your corporation to embark in the Hope. How many?”

“Twenty-two thousand.”

Parvati swallowed. “Gosh, that’s a lot.”

Aethel gave the smallest of shrugs. “We were meant to be first wave. To establish SEPA in-system.”

“Your parents?” Parvati wanted to know.

Aethel shook her head. “Of my biological family, only I embarked.”

Parvati’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, wow. I’m so sorry. The rest of your corporation…they’re all still in the colony ship?”

“Yes, among the rest of the colonists. They’re my family.” Aethel laced her fingers together. “So you understand why I am inclined to help out Dr. Welles.”

[tetsuwan-atom]

Holy Grail War - Unraveling

(So, this is basically something I’ve been meaning to write for weeks. It’s in a specific verse about a specific event that had unfolded, that was plotted out between a few people. I have decided to give this event a bit of a ‘conclusion’ from the perspective of my muse and canon, to show how the story could have gone, how it could have ended.)

~~~~~~~~~~~

It really was like hell.

It looked like it, felt like it, like this was the most evil place, in all of existence.

Another dimension, another world but not at the same time. An experience that would burn into the retinas forever. A world in a world, like you had stepped into the end of it all.

And it really did seem like it was the end, of it all.

You never expected the Holy Grail to look like this. A beacon of such evil, of apocalyptic catastrophe. The very symbol that brought such chaos, time and time again, feeding upon the greed, the selfishness, of those who sought to use it to it’s truest potential.

But this individual wasn’t here for that.

This person had fought through the war. He had faced countless forces, foes, enemies. How many had to die? How many brought no other option to him, despite his attempts to make it out of the war without bloodshed?

A wishful outcome, that was doomed to perish.

The many he did save, those who joined him on the cause. Those he had to leave behind at the very end. Despite the pleas of those who tried to remain, he knew, he had to take care of this himself.

Because, there can only be one.

And here he stood. He stared evil right in the face, like it was his destiny to face this. There could have been others that would have taken his place, the sibling princesses, the spiky haired schoolboy, the Sorceress Supreme, but in the end he took his objective right to this moment.

He knew he had to take care of this himself.

Bowen Chuuno, The Mighty Atom.

He stared at the embodiment of the Holy Grail. He knew of it’s power, it’s energy, it’s deceit. How it calls out to him even now to turn back on all of his goals and make a wish he so deemed to come right from the heart.

But he knew better than to give in.

Hands gripped his IDND, a step forward in stance. He’s ready. He’s about to take the matters into his own.

To put an end to this.

For goo-

“Oh! There you are!”

Eyes widen in surprise. The male hesitates, stops, lowers his device. He’s not alone after all.

There is someone else here.

A voice, he recognises. A man he knows.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Adachi Shiro.

A supposed detective of the National Police Agency, sent to Academy City to investigate the concerns that were happening literally during the time of the Holy Grail War. A very strange coincidence. One that the male took with quite a bit of suspicion at that, despite his cheerful character.

He only turned his head, to the man in question.

“What are you doing here, Adachi? How did you get in?”

“What do you mean? I just walked through. I was asking your friends where you were and they pointed me here. I gotta admit they were all acting strange. They didn’t want to let me pass, but I needed to see you. They can’t just interfere with police business like that.”

Adachi had been Bowen’s ‘sidekick’ throughout the war. Of course Bowen couldn’t hide it from him when the fighting started getting bad. Even he knew better than to lie to a cop.

“I’m busy. What you require of me can wa-.”

“Hey.” The man interjected. “Is this the ‘grail’ you’ve been looking for? Kinda looks odd for a piece of metal, doesn’t it?”

In case your wondering, yes, this man does get on Bowen’s nerves... especially right now, though he knew to remain calm.

“...........Yes. This... is the Holy Grail.”

“Aahhhhhhhh! Well done! I knew you would be the one to make it! Them bad guys got nothing on you, huh?”

His smile is just... why does it irritate him so much?

“...I guess...”

“So, what you going to do, huh? You said it grants a wish, right? I bet you planned this right from the very beginning, what you wanted out of it. I can’t believe I’m here to witness a man’s dream finally being granted!”

“I’m not going to give it a wish, Adachi.”

“You’re... not?” He looks surprised, for sure. “But you came all this way. I was there as you kicked those guys butts for the good of the world. Why would you come all this way if you weren’t going to make a wish? Weren’t you going to do something for mankind? Weren’t you going to save it?”

Bowen hadn’t told Adachi of his intentions, because he didn’t feel the man needed to know. But now, right at the last moment, when he couldn’t hide it anymore, there was no reason to lie.

“I am going to do something for mankind, I am going to save it.....”

The blonde grips his IDND, as if readying himself a second time.

“....By destroying the grail for good..”

“....”

There was this... pause. A silence, an awkward silence. How long did it last for? Probably a good ten, fifteen seconds, before some form of response was found from the arrival.

“Hmmmmmhmhmhmhmhm...”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!”

...That was an unexpected reaction, one which actually brought the blonde to turn around and face the other, still serious, but with confusion now mixed into his features.

Why the hell was Adachi... laughing?

“You, you really think I’d actually let you destroy this artifact of grand power?!?”

“What... are you on about?”

“Come now. You’ve got a good brain, you can figure this all out. Am I really a cop? Why did I actually hang around you of all people while this shit was going down, huh?”

“......”

”You know. I found it really weird that you showed up out of nowhere right at the start of the war. Then when things started heating up you reeeeallly didn’t act like I’d expect out of a cop. It was like you weren’t too caring when people were driven to death. You were also acting very strange when certain things were going on. I had a feeling you were in this war all along.”

There was this pause, but in that moment, the expression on Adachi’s face began to change... no his FACE began to change. It turned.. paler... in colour.. and his eyes.. they were turning yellow. A sort of... sickly... unsettling yellow.

“....”

“Well it doesn’t matter in the end, does it? I got exactly what I wanted. I played you to ensure you were the one at the very end. Nobody else could match up to you anyway.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy with me! You know exactly why. Your reputation precedes you far more than what you understand about it! While everybody else was distracted I kept my eye on the real threat. They were so worried about that dumb boy and that girl.. and then the others. They were all so useless. ”

The man then begins to circle the blonde, in conversation.

“Right at the beginning my eyes were on you. But it was quite a ride, wasn’t it? You were so good at minimising the work we had to do, putting people on side, finding some way to drop them from the war without killing them. But man everybody was making it hard, wasn’t it? I almost took advantage of that situation when the lucky kid got sent away. Can you believe it, a fake marriage just for the war! I knew it meant shit at the end of the day. More people, more mess, a whole Kingdom trying to get in on the war, those two princesses asserting their dominance. Remember how you reacted at first? You didn’t like them intruding, didn’t you?”

“...I don’t like getting others involved. But they were here for the same goal. As long as the initial plan was followed there wouldn’t be any problems.”

“But the younger one was such a real bitch about it! Making it out that it wasn’t all about you. You didn’t want to be playing second fiddle as others meddled in your objective... I can relate, for they were meddling, in MY affairs!”

“I had to take a breather after all that. I left Academy City for a bit while you cleaned up the trash. Some ‘fighter’ chick caught me talking to myself one day. I tried to downplay it cause I didn’t want more people coming into it but.. the stupid bitch nearly got sucked into it! It would have been soooo funny, seeing a tourney fighter getting wrecked by some loaded-ass Servant! More junk for the janitors to mop up!”

“But then too... I was laughing at the beginning. You got paired with Stacia Sequenzia! An ‘Atomite’ helping another Atomite! The irony there is laughable! You even tried to put her on the sidelines too, but you know, Servants are there to help their masters! I wonder if you ever had to perform a Mana Transfer on her!”

A laugh escaped the man. He wasn’t looking for an actual answer.

“Then there was that guy who just muscled in just to fight everyone, he wasn’t even IN the war. What a waste of fuckin’ time. And the Makiris, the Einsworths. Those fools were all bickering and bitching and making a mess of things. I nearly lost my cover when the war was to move to England.. but I got to pull some... strings and keep it here where I wanted. They were all so concerned about the lucky kid. I was ‘lucky’ I didn’t get to see Violent Violet or that Crowley moron come around to the war. I got to focus my efforts on you while the families shat on about their supposed ‘vessel’.”

“...Vessel... you mean... Index?”

“You dumb piece of shit. Index. Please. Everyone looks at her like she’s a fucking meal. No. She is not their ‘vessel’. Come on, think. Think reeealll hard. Do you remember a girl that the idiot took under his wing?”

“Her... you mean.. Akatsuki Miyuki?!”

“Mmm! Strange isn’t it? They were going to use her as a vessel. Too bad it wouldn’t have worked. I wasn’t interested. I don’t give a shit about humans and homunculi anymore. None of them lived up to my expectations. I wouldn’t have even used your girl either. No, I only had one person on my mind. I got what I wanted in the end, didn’t I?”

“....That’s... me... isn’t it?”

“Oh. No duh, what do you think? Of course I mean you. The Mighty Atom! The one with the power to change it all! It had to be you. The boy would have just been a candy bar. Those two princesses? I would have just killed them the moment they tried to walk through into my space! It was ME that made you an initial participant, it was ME that got you through right until the end. I knew you weren’t going to risk the suffering of those around you because maybe deep down you knew it had to be you, that anyone else would have died one way or another. They all underestimate my power... even those influenced by gods.. but not you. You knew what I can do... you knew it had to be you.”

“....But then... what are you... if you wanted so much.. out of me?”

“...Do I need to spell it out for you, boy? I AM the Holy Grail!”

That.. that was a bombshell.. he didn’t see that coming at all.

“...Y..you...”

“Yes. Me. But I’m rather an extension of the beast, allowed to roam in a body that people could lower their guard around. Nobody ever expected the beast would grow intelligent, to form a mind of it’s own. I’ve seen it, I’ve seen how greedy and malicious humans can get, for peace and for power. I was never surprised by how much they wanted to take over everything for themselves... I always enjoyed it when they were the ones losing right at the end. And then there’s those that want a ‘utopia’, but still kill, still maim, like any life is a sacrifice for the good of others. And then I kill and maim them, an eye for an eye, along with many many others. I loved playing on their wishes, lulling them in, bringing out their true nature, leaving them vulnerable right at the moment I strike! In the end they all get absorbed... ready for the next war. But.... no matter how powerful they are, it’s never... ever enough..”

“I’m bored of this game, this charade. I’m sick and tired of prancing around in a shit body. It’s still fun to prey on the gullible but, I have always yearned for something far... far greater. What I am... what I really, really am, they never suspect what I can really, really do, what they were playing with from the start. The power they were using. They thought they could play god... for their sick, twisted gains! Through their sick, twisted means!”

“But now I’m actually going to become one... thanks to you.. I’m going to be born, properly born! I’m going to burst forth as the being I should have become in the very beginning. Humanity will crumble as I consume anything and everything. Mark my words this will be the last Grail War because of you. You soul will be used to complete the process... it will make me... me! There was truly no vessel greater than you! Even now I’ve been slowly draining your energy away to grow, to develop... oh isn’t this exciting! You’re going to be a part of multi-universal history, the end of everything! Nobody will get in my way! Your power will make everything happen at once! You, responsible for the end of it all. The beginning and the end, death for life, the rise and the fall! Everybody shall die, your friend, your girl, your family, everything and everyone... and you will be the sacrifice that starts it all! It’s inevitable, boy. You cannot fight what has already happened, what was lead to happen. The game of cat and mouse is over. This is your fate. This is my fate. The less you struggle.. the easier it will be, for both of us!”

...Boy... this was a lot to take in. A LOT to take in.. and he didn’t even have the time to process it all, not when he was actually being affected right now. Inhale, exhale, carefully, gently. Remain composed.. then face the man head on.

“Adachi.”

"You know, as well as I do, I'm not going to willingly give in to you and just let this happen. You know what I am, what I do.. and what I'm going to be doing right here, right now. Your words have further influenced me in the belief that the Grail must be destroyed. And it will be destroyed. I made that promise to everyone, to Camellia, to Academy City, to my world, to Touma... to my beloved. I had an inkling I might have been targeted, that if I wasn't the one doing it, I'd be made to do it. I always had this feeling in the back of my mind that if I let others try ahead of me that they were only going to die in the end... turns out I was right."

His eyes began to glow. The usual process, close the eyes, then open them with sparks flying.

"So rather than causing more death, rather than beating around the bush, I'm going to take the matters as I was always planning to do. This was always my fight, because I was always the target. You wanted me. You have me... but man I'm not going to give up until I have no breath left. I have done so much for the multiverse, for Academy City. I never thought I'd be in a position where it all hinged in the balance like this. I know the stakes... I know what I must do. Whatever it takes, you will be destroyed for good, so that nobody can use you... so that you... can no longer use anybody. I won't let you live. I will not bring your birth. If I have to erase your very soul and existence to end this, then so be it."

“.... Well, so much for making this easy. I had a feeling your resolve was too great to kneel before me. No matter..”

“....But then there is no harm in having one last bit of fun before the next stage of life! And it would be better to wear down your.. rambunctiousness to make it easier for me to devour. Do not underestimate me... either way.. this.. will be your end!”

...And as the darkness swelled, the blonde readied his IDND again, at the man, at the embodiment of the Holy Grail. If this was to be his final fight, so be it.

This... would be the very fight that decides the fate of everything.

Of Academy City, of the multiverse, of everything.

So it shall be.

Game on.......

[anexplanationofunfortunateevents]

this is an alarmist post

This post might sound alarmist because I don’t know the respectable, non-alarmist way to put this. He’s going full final-days-in-the-Fuhrerbunker. I want to be alarmist. We need to be alarmed.

On one level, I’m pretty sure you know this. You can probably see a vague reference to “what happened in Portland” and know exactly what the writer means. Unidentified little green men in military-style fatigues deployed against peaceful protesters. Protesters kidnapped off the streets in “proactive arrests.” ordered by someone illegally acting as the head of DHS. Journalists attacked. Middle-aged women beaten and tear-gassed. The mayor of Portland tear-gassed. It was, of course, worse than it looked, and only the most telegenic of concurrent power grabs.

But it’s really hard to stay at the appropriate level of alarm for even three hours – and we need to stay there for the next three months. It’s exhausting no matter what, and nearly all of our current information environment makes it even more difficult than it needs to be.

Most of what the mainstream media has to say about the election isn’t reporting so much as it is fanfiction. Characters with familiar names and recognizable faces feature in an alternative universe where “normal” political forces (which were defunct ten years ago) apply. Sniping about “messaging,” pathologically boring lectures about “enthusiasm” – it would be annoying anti-Democratic concern-trolling in a world where a free and fair election could be taken for granted. In the real world of powerful and accelerating anti-democratic threats, it is both dangerous and bizarre, like dumping a fifth of vodka into a Super Soaker and trying to use it to put out a brush fire.

The mainstream conversation is so disorienting that it’s understandable why there are also a fair amount of influential progressive commentators who have burrowed themselves into the reverse narrative. It doesn’t matter what we do, Trump is just going to steal the election anyway; it doesn’t matter if he loses, he’s going to refuse to leave anyway. A subset of these fatalists swing all the way around to conventional Pundit Brain: Trump has already blown up all the rules of democratic politics because Democrats aren’t using the One Weird Trick that would make them good at democratic politics!*

Before jumping down the rabbit hole of whether these narratives are true, it’s important to emphasize that they are not constructive. We are in a crisis. In a crisis, you need to help people understand that something abnormal is happening AND that there is something they can do to make things better. Communicating to people that things are fine, as the mainstream horserace normal politics model does, isn’t helpful, because it helps people rationalize the false but comforting belief that everything is fine. Communicating to people that things are hopeless, as the doom-mongering counternarrative does, is even less helpful. If you’re acting normal about something abnormal, there’s at least the off-chance you’ll get lucky and unwittingly bluff your way through the short- and medium-term. But if you’re constantly getting the message that you’re screwed no matter what, it’s human nature to either a) go into denial and double down on an unproductive response, which is irrational but understandable or b) get cynical and give up, which is an entirely rational response to a situation that actually is hopeless.

Trump is already trying to steal the 2020 election. He has help from the henchmen he has put in charge of important federal agencies and from the white-shoe lifers in the Republican legal establishment. Anything you can imagine he might do, you should assume he has at least considered it. He will consider things that would never even occur to you.

He hasn’t succeeded yet. He can be stopped with overwhelming turnout. We know this because of the 2018 midterms. Autocrats who are successfully smothering a democracy do not allow the opposition party to win partial or full control in regional governments, take over half the federal legislature, and gain a foothold in the presidential line of succession. That’s not how autocracy works. If you come across a commentator who is under the impression that a burgeoning dictatorship just gives away that kind of power for the lulz, consider taking that person’s opinions on the subject with a grain of salt.

Thanks to the 2018 midterms, House Democrats have been able to foil some of Trump’s schemes and warn the public about others. Even with Individual 1’s desperate thrashing at the intelligence agencies, we’re getting a lot more specific information about Russian attacks on the election than we were this time in 2016 from the Obama administration.

One more important thing we learned in 2018: just because Trump would do something, doesn’t mean he will. Here’s the Once and Future Speaker a few weeks after reclaiming her title:

At least Trump “didn’t declare the election illegal,” Pelosi said. “We had a plan for that” — though really, she acknowledged, the only workable plan was “to win big. Had it been four or five seats, he would’ve tried to dismantle it.” In his news conference the day after the midterms, Trump spoke respectfully of Pelosi….

The Spectacularly Failed New York Times buried the lead as usual, but there are a few really important points packed in here. Democrats did, in fact, have a plan for that, which you’re going to need to remind yourself if you try to follow political commentary in the next few months. For whatever reason, a surprising number of supposedly anti-Trump writers are  eager to undermine Trump’s opposition with false claims that Democrats are bumbling naifs who in 2020 still haven’t realized that Trump might not respect the results of an election.** This demoralizing premise is, as you can tell from the Wayback Machine link, not true, but for some reason it remains a popular lie, so it’s worth debunking.

More importantly, we didn’t know about the plan until afterward because they didn’t need it. Trump has blinked before, so there’s no reason to assume he won’t blink again. We shouldn’t assume he will do the same thing in 2020 that he did in 2018, because it’s a different situation! Just that people who have assumed Donald Trump will act in a completely different way than he has in the past usually end up with egg on their faces.

My two cents – AND THIS IS JUST MY OPINION SO YOU CAN SKIP IT – is that any kind of post-election autocratic power grab would probably need decisive action from Trump within days, maybe even hours, of polls closing. That, in turn, would require Trump to absorb the narcissistic injury of a loss immediately, which he has been psychologically incapable of doing for the first 74 years of his life. Remember, he didn’t have to come to terms with the curb-stomping he received in the midterms right away. At first he could tell himself that Republicans holding onto the Senate (by the skin of their teeth when they should by all rights have swamped it, but whatever) represented a “split decision” and even a moral victory for him, so he could afford to go into, like, con man autopilot mode and try to charm “Nancy.” Everyone else adjusted to the Democratic victory the next day, and the next night, people got into the streets warning him not to try any bullshit. It was only after bigger districts finished counting and mail-in ballots were counted that it sunk in for him how badly he had lost and what the consequences would be. Then he soothed himself by shutting down the government indefinitely, which he seemed to feel was a display of his power – until “Nancy” pantsed and dog-walked him so he had to slink off and pretend it never happened.

If an election which was more or less as legitimate as the 2016 election (questionable but not Belarus) were held today, I think the most likely result would be a scenario a lot like the midterms: East Coast states make it clear which way the wind is blowing to most people, but Trump goes to bed at 3 AM thinking he’s close enough to fight it out in court. Over the next couple of weeks the mail-in ballots get opened, Miami and Philadelphia finish counting, and the real numbers start penetrating even his toxic bubble. Eventually someone reminds him that his armed Secret Service detail can escort him off the premises no matter what he does, so he loses what little nerve he has and skips Biden’s inauguration to go golfing at Mar a Lago. Or maybe Sochi.

But again, that is not a guarantee or even a prediction. The FACT is that anything can happen in the next three months, and Trump and his goons are putting a lot of effort into ensuring that everyone does happen. I spelled out my opinion of what seems most likely at the moment because it can get really easy to dwell on the worst-case scenario, which leads to fatalism and inaction. The least-bad scenario is actually more plausible than it’s been for the last few years, if we motivate ourselves to get it done. We can’t waste all our time and energy thinking about what he’s going to do, because we need to think about what we’re going to do. Voting is the core issue as always, but it helps to be more concrete.

If your state has early in-person voting, and if you can do so safely, vote in-person as soon as you can. Every state’s vote by mail infrastructure was going to be strained this year before these dirtbags decided to sabotage the postal service. If you can cast your vote early, you can help make the lines a little shorter on Election Day while leaving vote by mail resources for people who need them.

If you are a person who needs vote by mail resources for whatever reason, use them! Request your ballot now. Fill it out and return it as soon as you get it. You might not have to mail it back – your county may have drop boxes, or maybe someone can bring it to the local elections office for you. If that’s a safe option for you, please take advantage of it. If it’s not a safe option, mail your ballot back as soon as possible. You’re not helping anyone from the ICU.

If you and the people you live with are relatively low risk, or if you’ve survived COVID and your health care provider thinks you have immunity for the next few months, consider volunteering as a poll worker. Usually a lot of poll workers are retirees, who are by definition in a high-risk group. If enough of them decide to sit this year out – and that’s the smart, responsible choice – then polling places end up closing, which helps Republican voter suppression by making the lines longer. The more volunteers your area has, the more polls they’ll have open, which makes it that much easier to let people vote quickly and at a safe distance from each other.

This last one isn’t directly about voting, but it’s still pretty important: get used to pushing back on bullshit. There already is another effort to drive down turnout by inundating voters with disinformation. Last time we weren’t ready; this time, we have no excuse.

*Avoiding sources because this stuff is toxic. If you think I’m making this up because you haven’t seen it anywhere, good.

**Look, nobody*** is more sympathetic to The Men and their psychological frailties than me, but seriously, guys, some of you need to log the hell off for a few days.

***For certain non-traditional values of “nobody.”

[sage-nebula]

re: Amity, Luz, & Lilith

I’m just going to go ahead and make this post now to save some time in case things don’t go like a lot of the fandom seems to be expecting them to in upcoming episodes. And the main point of this post is:

Turning on the Empire / Emperor’s Coven / Lilith is probably going to be extremely difficult for Amity.

Many people seem to think that Amity is going to drop Lilith and the Coven as soon as she learns that they’re enemies of Luz, but I really don’t think it’s going to be that simple. (And I also think that’s the meta reason why Amity is benched for these two episodes; there’s simply not enough time to give her the attention she needs with everything else going on.) In fact, I think the upcoming arc is going to prove to be very rough on Amity psychologically, and I think that for several reasons.

1.) Amity has around fourteen years of brainwashing and deprogramming to break through.

As we saw in “Agony of a Witch,” the Empire operates through dogma that is put out not only by the Emperor’s Coven, but is also taught through dedicated instruction in the school system. (e.g. Hexside only let students study what would lead them to joining a single coven until very recently, and though he claims to be apolitical, President Bump clearly has to adhere to Empire standards in pretty much every way.) The propaganda is so steady and strong that we see that Willow and Gus are both very happily brainwashed, completely believing that witches “did magic wrong” until the Emperor came and dominated them. What this means is that anyone who is going to turn against the Empire is going to have to fight through programming that has been instilled in them since birth. Eda managed to fight it off, but her fear that Luz will succumb to it is why she was so afraid of letting Luz go to Hexside. And Luz hasn’t succumbed to it and doesn’t believe it, but that’s because she’s human, only recently arrived, and has Eda as her teacher. From what we see, pretty much every other student (except perhaps the detention squad) live and breathe the Empire dogma because it’s all they’ve ever known.

Now, both Willow and Gus wanted to help Luz cure Eda despite the fact that they, too, are brainwashed. But that doesn’t mean that they think that the Emperor or Emperor’s Coven is bad, and furthermore, while they have the same brainwashing that Amity does, they’re still a bit different from her in that they don’t seem to have any real desire to join the Emperor’s Coven. They think it’s cool, but with how much they love their current tracks, it seems more likely they’d want to join Plant or Illusion covens. So for Willow and Gus, while they still have programming to break free from, that’s all they have to break free from. It will still be incredibly hard, and I can definitely see them taking a “well, Lilith might be bad, but that doesn’t mean the Emperor is!” tack at first, but that’s all they would personally have to contend with. Amity, on the other hand . . .

2.) Amity looks up to Lilith with what looks like hero worship, and has set her entire future / identity around joining the Emperor’s Coven.

Despite Lilith using Amity to cheat during her duel against Luz, Amity still has a poster of Lilith up on her wall. She screams at Luz in the duel episode that joining the Emperor’s Coven is her future. All of her hopes, dreams, goals, and efforts center around this dream of hers, and while we don’t know exactly how long she has held that dream, we can surmise that she’s held it for a long time. Speaking from personal experience, when you hold a dream near and dear to your heart and spend most of your waking hours working to achieve it, it becomes part of your identity. You imagine it for yourself so strongly that you can’t see yourself doing anything else. That Amity forgave Lilith for using her to cheat during that duel, and that she still looks up to her and has that poster of her on her wall (her “shut up” seemed more like she felt judged for being bedridden by the poster of Lilith), speaks volumes to just how important this is to her. Amity felt humiliated during that duel, but she put all the blame on Luz and none of it on Lilith despite the fact that Luz had nothing to do with Lilith putting that power sticker on her. Lilith was the real reason Amity was humiliated that day, but it was easier for her to blame Luz because Luz wasn’t part of the identity that Amity formed for herself, so that’s what she did. And I’m not talking about “easier” as in “she doesn’t want to put the work in” (because Amity always wants to put the work in to everything), but “easier” as in “the psyche tends to protect itself however possible and will automatically take the route of least psychological damage, which is why denial is one of the earliest, if not the very first, stages of grief, for instance.”

Because here’s the thing: When you make something part of your identity, anything that threatens to damage or take that away from you deals severe psychological damage. When a star athlete is injured to the point where they can never play again, or a career track musician loses their hearing, or an artist loses their sight, it’s devastating. Not because they’re disabled, but because the identity they built for themselves—athlete, artist, musician—is now something they can no longer be, at least not in the same way. When something becomes an integral part of your identity and is then taken away, you wonder, “If I’m not [x], then what am I?” There’s always an answer, and that answer is usually “you are a human person and you shouldn’t wrap your identity around your future/current career,” but the fact is that while that’s the logical answer, people aren’t logical creatures, by and large. We’re emotional ones. And the emotion in that moment is, “I don’t know who I am / I’m nobody / I’m nothing / I don’t know what to do.”

In this scenario, Amity’s not being disabled in any way, and she could find a new dream or goal . . . but considering the fact that you’re either a criminal or in a coven, and that the only coven that allows you to use all forms of magic is the Emperor’s Coven, her options in the Boiling Isles are pretty limited. And even if they weren’t, again, this is something that Amity has decided on so firmly for herself that the mere idea that she was made to look foolish in front of the Emperor’s Coven at the covention led to her screaming at Luz about it. If being embarrassed in front of the Coven, something that won’t bar her from her desired future, is enough to make her freak out that much, how hard will it be for her to throw the entire thing away? To realize that her dream, something she’s worked toward her entire life, is actually something awful, something undesirable?

Lilith is someone she sees as a hero even now, even still, and so I think turning her back on Lilith will be very difficult, though not impossible. (As in, I think she’d try to find excuses for why Lilith capturing Eda is justifiable, and the only way to truly shatter the pedestal she has Lilith on is to actively witness Lilith trying to murder Luz, because murder is a line Amity can’t justify.) But turning her back on the Coven and Empire completely? When Amity has worked toward this and given everything she has to this for years? Yeah, it’s possible, but it’s going to be pretty emotionally devastating, particularly considering . . .

3.) She has emotionally abusive parents who have probably pushed her toward this goal since Day One.

I think it would really be selling Amity short to say that her idolization of Lilith and her desire to join the Emperor’s Coven isn’t something that she decided upon / truly wanted for herself. Amity deserves agency, and I think she exercised that agency by choosing who her idol is / willingly working toward her own dream.

But considering how obsessed with status her parents are, I think it’s also entirely possible that they taught Amity from a young age that she should work to join the Emperor’s Coven, particularly if the elder Blight siblings didn’t show the aptitude for it (because let’s be honest, they don’t have the right attitude for it). Joining the Emperor’s Coven gives you status that no other coven in the Boiling Isles can grant you, and I’m sure that having one’s child grow up to join the Emperor’s Coven would look favorably upon the parents. We don’t know what Amity’s parents do or what coven they’re in (though I doubt it’s the Emperor’s Coven, given that the only person with a face or name in the Coven that we know of so far is Lilith), but I’m sure that if they themselves weren’t able to join the Emperor’s Coven, they would absolutely want the status that one of their children joining would bring them. And so I’m sure that as soon as Amity was old enough to understand the concept, her parents impressed upon her that the Emperor’s Coven was the best one and therefore the one she should strive to join, and she soaked that in just as she did the Empire dogma that was spoonfed to her (and everyone else on the Boiling Isles) from birth.

And what this means is that realizing that the Emperor’s Coven is not at all what she thought it was and is not an achievable or actually desirable dream means not only disintegrating part of what she built into her own identity, but also going against her emotionally abusive parents if this is what they want from her (and while it’s speculation, I feel like it’s reasonably based speculation that it is what they want from her). We know that while Amity doesn’t always agree with her parents, ultimately she’s afraid of them and going against them is difficult. This is why she allowed them to force her to cut off her friendship with Willow. Amity has disobeyed her parents in recent episodes by trying to mend things with Willow and ditching Boscha and the others,  but there’s a huge difference from that and “actually, I’m not going to do this thing to bring you tons of status.” One will definitely piss off her parents more than the other and it’s not hard to see which one.

So, in conclusion . . .

I think Amity has a very hard road ahead of her, and it’s not going to be fixed as easily as “Luz is very cute and I like her a lot so FUCK the empire lol.” Like that’s great as a meme and the Power of Love is a heck of a power, but I think that the reality of what the Empire / Emperor’s Coven is is going to be a crisis of identity for Amity more than it is just about any other character, and while she’s absolutely crushing on Luz in a big way, there’s more than one way the word “crush” can be used with regards to a character and this is not going to be an easy road for Amity. So don’t be surprised if she doesn’t drop all of her ambitions and dreams the moment Luz says “they’re evil,” or if she tries to make excuses for why they’re not that bad and it’s a misunderstanding and she hasn’t actually been working to join the Evil League of Evil for her entire life. I have confidence that Amity will make the right decision and be all right in the end, but it’s undoubtedly going to be a bumpy road and it will take her some time to fully navigate it.

[starlene]

A long, itemized, soul-searching list of complaints

...related to theatre in Finland, and my personal relationship to it.

This has been brewing in my mind for a while, and I have to write this out somewhere or I think I’ll start wailing in frustration. I’m putting it on Tumblr, because I feel like now is simply not the right time to start airing my complaints about the Finnish theatre scene in spaces that people from said scene actually visit. But I still have to try to get this out of my mind.

So.

Seeing how theatres have been closed for over four months now, I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on my own relationship to Finnish musical theatre. For the past decade, it’s been the thing I’ve been the most interested in – which is why it feels so saddening to me to see where the whole scene seems to be going.

You see, for a country with only 5,5 million inhabitants, and only 18 people per square kilometer, Finland has a ridiculously robust network of state-subsidized theatres. There are dozens of them, most big and mid-sized towns have one. So far, so good, right? But then, when you look into this a little bit deeper, and figure out how musicals fit into the equation...

Well, here’s how it looks like:

1) Musicals are widely regarded as the cash cows of Finnish theatre. Put on Fiddler on the Roof and you’re guaranteed to get butts in seats. The most popular theatrical productions in this country are almost always musicals.

2) In so-called intellectual circles, musicals are widely regarded as worthless drivel that should not benefit from any public funding.

3) During the past... dunno, five years or so, a handful of our biggest theatres have been getting into this ridiculous ours-is-bigger-than-yours type of competition with their musical productions. They buy the rights to some mediocre new musical that ran on Broadway for a year and a half, promote it as a huge Broadway success story that is finally being brought to Finland, and come up with some way to make it bigger or otherwise more special than any Finnish musical production before – be it the biggest ensemble, the flashiest special effects, the most famous composer visiting the premiere, the most accordions added to the original orchestration (added accordion has seriously been used as a selling point over here)... And the productions themselves tend to be these replica-ish-but-not-quite, professionally made but artistically bland and devoid-of-any-deeper-meaning spectacles.

4) The ticket prices for these big musical productions have shot through the roof. I’m talking about increases up to 80% in ten years – increases that simply cannot be explained away with the overall rate of inflation. I’m talking tickets to Finnish state-subsidized musicals costing the same as tickets to Finnish commercial musicals (well, granted, we only have one theatre that’s making big scale commercial productions – but it’s not a good look that their prices match the state-funded prices), tickets to Swedish commercial musicals costing less than tickets to Finnish state-funded ones.

5) Did I mention a big percentage of the funding for Finnish arts comes from our state-owned betting agency? In practice, that means a big chunk of the arts funding comes from the pockets of poor people addicted to gambling. Seriously. 50% of the profit the agency makes comes from the most active 5% of gamblers, and almost 25% of the profit comes from people that have a gambling addiction. There is also some evidence suggesting the agency has deliberately been placing the majority of their slot machines in poor neighbourhoods. There is talk about dismantling this whole thing, but it’s a really difficult issue, since no one really has a realistic idea for an alternative way of funding the arts.

...and the more I think about this nasty circle of things I’ve written about above, the worse it makes me feel.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m 100% for state-funded arts, and I 100% believe musical theatre is a form of art on par with any other. But the way the funding works right now, the way the biggest theatres keep increasing the prices and, thus, pricing everyone who’s not well-off out... It really makes me furious. My family has always been well-to-do, but I could not have had the experiences I’ve had earlier in my life if I was born ten years later. I would not have the money to see all the musicals I got to see as a teenager if I was a teenager now. (And then they wonder why young people don’t seem to be interested in theatre.)

Of course, I know that no one needs theatre to survive. It’s a good thing to have, but it’s not at a matter of life and death, far from it. And that’s another big thing I’ve been thinking about. This spring and summer, four months and counting without theatre, has shown me that personally, I truly do not need theatre to survive. If it’s not available, I’ll just do something else.

So now that certain theatre people have been giving these statements about the importance of the arts and making the audience trust going to the theatre again despite corona (which is... it’s such utter nonsense, it’s not in your hands if we get a second wave or not – if anything, reopening theatres makes it more likely we will – and if we do, nothing you do or say can make us “trust” going to the theatre since it will not be safe to do so and that’s that)... I just can’t help thinking, are you actually as essential to our society as you like to pretend you are? Are you actually offering a public, accessible service? (On top of all this, add the fun fact that only 50% of Finnish arts organizations that are required by law to have an equality plan actually have it, and you get a picture of how important being equal and accessible actually is for the arts in this country.)

And once you see this stuff, really see it, it’s really hard to unsee it and to go back advocating for Finnish musical theatre.

It’s like the big theatres are hearing the criticism that musicals should not be subsidized at all, and to debunk it, they do exactly what the critics have been saying they shouldn’t do. I do love a big musical production every now and then – but I super do not love getting one every single year in all the big theatres, if that means that prices will continue to rise, and that more and more people who don’t have a lot of money to spare can’t see musicals at all. I do love a Broadway musical every now and then – but I super do not love that in 99% of the cases, the people in charge don’t even consider the world of musicals that exists outside of Broadway. (I also hate the nonsense argument of pitting original Finnish musicals and Broadway musicals against each other, but that’s a rant for another day.)

And in the end, I feel like the Finnish theatre scene in general is out of touch with reality. We have things like climate change and inequality and whatnot going on in here, and for the most part, it seems like they do not even notice – or if they do, it’s an opportunity for them to look good, not to do good. Common enough in corporate world, sure, but for a field that prides itself for being so humane and essential to human survival... yeah.

Of course, I’ve been personally let down by certain aspects and people of the Finnish theatre world, which partially caused my burnout, which in turn has had some severe repercussions I keep battling with to this day. I’ll be the first to admit that this experience will probably always colour my views on Finnish theatre as a whole, and if everything had taken a different turn some years ago, I likely would not feel this bitter now.

But as it is, I’m going to live my life with the memory of that disappointment and the shadow of that burnout, and I don’t think they take away the validity of my criticism.

It just feels a bit rough. I’ve been trying to speak for Finnish musical theatre for a decade, I’ve cared about it deeply, and it’s given me plenty of happy memories too – so, to examine the whole system, and to end up with this deeply cynical outlook of it all... it’s a bit sad. I know losing interest in things you used to like can be related to depression and things like that – but what if this is not that, what if this is how I’d be feeling in any case?

It’s just a bit sad, I guess.

It’s not that there are no directors or actors whose work I’m interested in anymore, there certainly are, and there are exciting things coming up. It’s just... with everything I’ve mentioned above, and especially when you remember the ongoing pandemic, it doesn’t feel so important right now.

I actually feel a bit queasy thinking of going to theatre in the fall since it doesn’t feel 100% safe. I really need to think that through before I decide to go or not to go. I mean – I know the corona situation in Finland is looking very good right now, and maybe this is just the future we’ll be living in from now on, but at the same time, the chance of being the person who got sick because she went to see West Side Story or whatever... Yeah. Doesn’t sound too good, does it.

So yeah, just wanted to write all this out somewhere. I know the arts have been hit really hard because of corona, so I can’t really go around criticising them in public right now, even if they 100% deserve it – now is simply not the right time. But all this is making me feel so conflicted and confused, seeing how much of my own life has been and still is entwined with these things, and not knowing what to make of it all, not knowing how to reframe the place Finnish musical theatre has in my in my life and in my heart.

Thank you for reading. If you have any thoughts, I’d love to hear them.

[yesbpdcatra]

4. iron

So, I’m back at my song analyses thing. The fourth song of the Catra(dora) playlist is “Iron,” Within Temptation, and it’s a top Catra song.

Left in the darkness Here on your own Woke up a memory Feeding the pain You cannot deny it There’s nothing to say It's all that you need to fire away

This is all about Catra’s vicious cycle of revictimization, abandonment issues, trauma and consequently self-harming tendencies. Let’s be more specific. She has been left, and not left in a position of safety and comfort, but in a dangerous situations where she would suffer the consequences of Adora’s defection and the general consequences of being alive and stealing someone else’s air, because apparently all she’s been taught is that she doesn’t deserve to be alive unless she proves herself worthy. From here, “left in the darkness,” in the worst place ever, full of hate and fear and pain, old or new. Moreover, she has been left not only by Adora, but by everyone she knew, by the end of S4. Both people she cared about, and people she had mixed feelings about. By everyone. People leaving her has become such a constant in her life that she almost doesn’t feel anything anymore, the pain is so much that has numbed her and she’s there, “on her own,” feeding it because it’s the only way to punish herself for what she’s doing and becoming. She’s arrived at the point where she ‘prepares herself’ for the moment a new person would leave, so that she’s not taken aback, but she “cannot deny it”—no matter what she does, she’s always taken aback and she always suffers the consequences of abandonment. Except she doesn’t want to be this way, this weak, because she lives in an environment where perceived projection of strength is everything, so she uses this pain. She even causes it to grow and rapidly expand by recalling memories and hurting herself, revictimizing herself in the process, so that pain would devour everything else and would make her numb again, ready to “fire away.” 

Oh damn, the war is coming Oh damn, you feel you want it Oh damn, just bring it on today

This is very clear. The war has always been there, but is now speeding up, and she’s gonna lead it as Force Captain. She “feels she wants it” because she feels betrayed and robbed of everything, she feels left behind and especially she realizes she feels dependent and vulnerable, that Adora’s presence was an anchor for her, and she doesn’t want to feel this way ever again. She gotta be independent, she gotta survive by herself. No more “you promise?” Also, she needs power, and war could grant her exactly that; she needs power not because she is greedy and elitist, but because in her experience power is the only way in this world to feel safe. She has never once felt safe, and she won’t feel safe with the whole Horde power in her own hands, but at first she deludes herself she maybe could. Moreover, she has to make it all worth the pain and the abuse and the suffering. There has to be a prize at the end of the road for those who stuck with the hard part and withstood everything. So fuck it, “bring it on today.” What else is there to lose?

You can’t live without the fire It’s the heat that makes you strong ‘Cause you're born to live and fight it all the way You can'’t hide what lies inside you It's the only thing you know You’ll embrace it and never walk away Don’t walk away

She can’t live without “the fire” because she has been fighting to survive since she was a child and she doesn’t remember any other way of existing that doesn’t imply some levels of ‘constant threat.’ The heat makes her strong because she has been taught by an actual child soldier training program that she is to exist merely to kill or be killed, and so she does what she can: she takes strength in knowing she can has a chance to prove herself, deluding herself to have some sort of agency over her life. That is why she thinks “she’s born to live and fight it all the way”—because it’s the only identity she has, without it she’s nothing, she’s lost. So, from here the desperate choice to stay in the Horde and not follow Adora in the Rebellion, not even understanding her defection, and the stern self-fabricated awareness that “this is what lies inside her.” She dives into darkness and chooses to embrace it, because it feels to her there’s no other viable, solid option. And that “don’t walk away” repeated many times is actually heartbreaking, because it could be either Adora miserably trying to convince her the Horde is not the solution, or Catra telling Adora not to abandon her, not to walk away.

Raised in this madness You’re on your own It made you fearless Nothing to lose Dreams are a drug here They get in your way That’s what you need to fight day by day

This stanza is very important because it underlines the essential flawed mentality in which Catra was raised. “In this madness” because the Horde taught nothing but hate, orders and unhealthy repression of human emotions to its recruits, resulting in Catra having a broken moral compass that couldn’t help her understand what was good and what was bad (this doesn’t apply to Adora because Adora got special treatment, the most vile parts of the Horde were a secret to her, probably because they were aware she’d have defected much earlier if she had known what was really happening), or worse, thinking she didn’t even have the right to understand the difference unless it was told her by someone higher in the chain of command. “It made you fearless” is almost a sarcastic line, because granted, we know Catra wants to appear fearless, but truth is that she lives in fear every single second of her life, precisely because of the madness in which she was raised, where no one owned their very life and couldn’t choose to walk away if they wished so, where her very peers thought it funny and acceptable to bully her because a scapegoat can always be bullied without repercussions. It’s true, instead, that she has nothing left to lose, at some point. She slowly becomes like a caged animal, with nothing to lose but a life they don’t care of living and a toxic environment of false victories and paranoia where it’s better to have yet another night terror than a dream because “dreams get in your way,” they give you false hopes and you can’t afford them, the collateral damage is too heavy. The only remaining thing is to fight, day by day, fight and fight again.

You need not fear us Unless you have a dark heart A vile one who preys on the innocent I promise You can’t hide forever in the empty darkness For we will hunt you down like the animals you are And pull you into the very bowels of hell 

This stanza is the most creepy thing ever sung, it’s threateningly whispered and I love it, because it really seem that your own head is turning against you, talking to you in your ears. I basically headcanon Catra having psychotic episodes during her mental breakdowns, especially the last ones in S4 where she was sleep deprived and likely food deprived too, and this is what she might hear. “Us” refers basically to her own conscience, to the many people she indirectly or directly killed during the war, who are now coming back for her, hissing in her brain like a virus composed of extremely high levels of self-loathing and self-sabotage. She blames herself for “having a dark heart,” for “preying on the innocent,” for driving people away, just like DT said. It’s like she’s somehow trying to punish herself. “You can’t hide forever in the empty darkness,” because your “villain mask” will fall down someday and everyone will see what a shattered wreck there is underneath, and you will have to deal with the consequences of your actions. “We will hunt you down like the animal you are” is such a violent, aggressive, suicidal thought to have... typical of a person who has reached a peak of instability and is now bordering the full-blown unhinged. Also, if you think about it, these might be things Shadow Weaver told her over the years. “We will pull you into the very bowels of hell” sounds like a classic ‘threat of punishment’ line.

[iatethepomegranate]

Homecoming Chapter 24

Masterlist (I’m going to experiment with internal links and see if tumblr will disappear this chapter from the tag if I do this)

Pairing: DickTiger

Rating: Teen (this chapter)

Length: 5.5k

Summary: Secrets in Wayne Manor rarely remain secret. Tiger has tough decisions to make.

Notes: I'm making up my own scraps on canon because I have no idea what canon currently looks like. And, honestly, canon sucks like 75% of the time anyway. So there.

Warnings: references to alcohol, references to mental health issues. These are mostly addressed in passing.

****

Chapter 24

Tiger used to be good at multitasking. His life had depended on it as a double agent for Checkmate. Now, trying to juggle Dick’s condition, Bruce’s knowledge that he’d shot Alia, his own guilt and the looming issue of Checkmate threatened to send him into a breakdown.

He was beginning to understand why Jason drank so much, and that made him increasingly grateful for his faith. It was the only thing holding him together some days. Taking time out to pray and read the Quran forced him to slow his thoughts and direct them away from self-pity and anxiety. Thus, Tiger found himself sticking to his prayer schedule much more diligently than he had in a while. He asked Allah’s forgiveness for his lapse, and the peace he found in prayer seemed to tell him that forgiveness had been granted.

Praying alongside Damian was the only time the world felt even remotely stable.

As soon as he stepped out of the room and Dick wasn’t there to bother him, however, the world turned sideways again. Even if Dick were awake, he likely wouldn’t have the strength to drag himself out of bed for a few more hours at least.

Damian pinched his arm. “Alfred will have begun making breakfast. We should help him.”

Tiger managed a smile. “Dick tells me your ‘help’ means sitting at the counter and criticising everyone’s cooking.”

“If a talentless nobody from Gotham can be paid to tell other people how to cook, why am I not allowed to do the same?”

Tiger had no idea who exactly Damian was referencing, but it didn’t matter. “A compelling argument. Lead the way.”

“I heard you shot Agent 8 before she could turn Grayson into a puppet,” Damian said as they walked.

“And where did you hear that?” Tiger was past the point of concern, since the worst had already happened. He was, however, curious.

“Todd and Drake are not as subtle as they think.”

“Is there anyone in this house who does not know?”

“No. Brown and Cain were eavesdropping as well. Pennyworth, of course, knows everything.”

“I see.” Tiger wasn’t sure if this made him feel better or worse. “And Barbara?”

“Gordon also knows everything. She was once an information broker.”

Tiger could feel the beginnings of a headache pinching his temples. “Do any of you have privacy in this house?”

“It depends.”

They reached the kitchen.

“Good morning, sirs,” Alfred said, whisking a bowl of batter. He asked Damian to chop some fruit and Tiger was tasked with cracking more eggs. They worked peacefully together for a while. Tiger had forgotten how good it felt to keep his hands busy and let his mind rest.

He was beginning to miss gardening. He hadn’t had the opportunity since the undercover mission in Gloria’s neighbourhood had ended. He was tempted to ask Alfred if he could help him in the garden but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Tiger could survive most social situations, but this family was not like most.

Cassandra arrived not long after Tiger had begun to grate cheese for omelettes. Alfred had her set the table. There was little discussion, aside from the occasional instruction from Alfred. Tiger found himself enjoying the peace of it… and then immediately wondered what was wrong with him.

Except for prayer time, Tiger did not consider himself the type of person to simply rest on his laurels. There was always something to do. Moments of inactivity were to be avoided whenever possible. And yet… he was quite content.

“Well, ain’t this fucking domestic.” Jason leaned against the kitchen door. He was paler than usual and the set of his mouth suggested nausea.

“Language, sir,” Alfred said mildly, dropping a fizzing tablet into a glass of water and passing it to him.

“Sorry,” Jason mumbled before immediately gulping down the whole glass.

Damian scoffed. “I thought Drake was being dramatic when he said you were indisposed last night.”

Jason rolled his eyes, and then immediately clapped a hand over them. “Ow. Bad idea.”

“I heard that, Damian.” Tim slid past Jason to grab a handful of cutlery from the drawer with the hand not occupied by a coffee mug. He smiled at Tiger. “Cass recruited me into table-setting duty.”

“Bribed you, more like.” Jason stole the coffee mug and downed its contents. Tim retreated to the dining room without acknowledging what had just happened. Tiger did not know what to make of that.

“Will Master Dick join us for breakfast this morning, sir?” Alfred asked.

“I am uncertain,” Tiger replied. Dick had been on the mend last night, but sometimes the fatigue after his migraines would linger and make it difficult for him to leave his bed.

Alfred sent him off to check on Dick. He passed Stephanie on the way, who pointed a pair of finger guns at him and made a clicking sound with her tongue. He did not understand, but it seemed friendly, so he nodded at her.

Tiger opened the bedroom door quietly, but he needn’t have bothered. Dick was sitting on the bed, fully dressed and tying his shoelaces. “’Morning, sunshine.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Mostly human.” Dick sat up. “And very hungry.”

“Breakfast will be ready soon.” Tiger helped him up. “You should eat.”

“That’s the plan.” Dick stepped closer and planted a kiss on Tiger’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

Tiger came very close to giving a kneejerk I’m fine, but Dick’s eyes narrowed and he instantly knew that was not an acceptable answer.

“I missed you this morning,” he admitted.

Dick sighed. “I know. I would’ve been there if I felt up to it.”

Tiger took his hands, squeezing gently. “I know. I do not blame you.”

Dick squeezed back. “So, where have you been?”

“Damian insisted we help Alfred prepare breakfast.” Tiger paused, wanting to say more but not quite knowing how to articulate the feelings swirling inside him.

“And?” Dick prompted.

“I liked it.”

“Tiger, are you telling me you didn’t realise you liked cooking?” Dick grinned, haltingly at first as if waiting for it to hurt. “Have you, like, forgotten everything that happened while we were fake-married?”

“I repressed it.” That wasn’t entirely truthful, but the face Dick made at him was worth it.

Dick snorted. “Of course you did. Come on. I need food.”

 Breakfast was weird. Jason was clearly hungover, so he wasn’t saying much, and Tim was preoccupied with his laptop. Dick was grateful for the quiet, since his head still didn’t feel quite right, but it was still disconcerting.

Then Steph went for the jugular. “Where were you last night, Jason?”

Tim sighed and kept typing.

Jason rubbed his eyes. “Mind your damn business.”

“Okay, just asking…”

Cass smacked her arm. Jason mumbled something about wishing he hadn’t gotten out of bed.

Damian rolled his eyes so hard his head moved. Mercifully, though, he just kept eating his omelette without adding to the conversation.

Last night felt like a bit of a fever dream to Dick. He wasn’t sure if it was coming off the migraine, or the fact Jason had spoken openly about his feelings that had done it. Both, probably.

Breakfast settled back into quiet, but an uneasy kind of quiet. Then the door squeaked open to reveal Bruce. Jason glared up at the ceiling before pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

Bruce took a seat and poured himself a cup of coffee. “How was your meeting with Duke last night?” he asked Tim.

Tim shrugged. “Fine. I talked to the Rows as well.”

“Did you ask that Cullen kid out yet?” Jason said.

Tim fixed him with a silent stare.

“What? He wants you to.”

Tim sighed. “I’m not having this conversation. Everyone’s doing fine, Bruce. Honestly, given how well they held the city the night we took down Spyral, you can probably afford to give them a longer leash.”

Bruce nodded silently and grabbed some oatmeal. “Anyone have something to report that we didn’t cover last night?”

“Oh, Catwoman’s showing her face again,” Steph replied. “Forgot to mention. I think she’s being a good girl, though.”

An exhausted look crossed Bruce’s face before he reset his expression. “We’ll see.” He visibly fortified himself with a spoonful of oatmeal. “Checkmate is increasing their presence in Gotham for the moment. I need everyone on alert.”

Barbara slipped into the room and took a seat.

“Has Helena given us any indication what they’re going to do with their Spyral prisoners?” Tim asked, looking up from his screen.

“They’re recruiting heavily,” Bruce replied. “It’s my understanding they haven’t decided what to do with Bannon yet. Bertinelli has strongly discouraged his recruitment, but her opinion may not matter.”

“I’ve spotted Helena a few times in Burnside,” Barbara added. “She doesn’t trust me at all, but she did mention she’s not sure Checkmate is listening to her about Bannon.”

Dick wasn’t sure what to do about that. Tiger could reveal himself as a Checkmate agent, but things were precarious enough already. But if he could convince them to avoid recruiting Bannon…

Tiger sighed. “I may be able to help.”

“May being the operative word,” Dick added. He didn’t know a huge amount about Tiger’s relationship with Checkmate, except he was trusted enough to undertake a long-term undercover mission in a rival spy agency on his own. That had to count for something, right?

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Is this about your affiliation with Checkmate?”

Tiger, to his credit, took that in his stride. “Yes.”

They stared at each other, and Dick was starting to wonder if an intervention would be required.

Jason cracked first. “Oh my fucking god just say something.”

“I need to report in to Checkmate regardless,” Tiger said. “They will ask for my report and I will have the chance to give recommendations.”

“Are we all just gonna skate over the fact Tiger’s literally been a Checkmate agent this whole time?” said Stephanie. “Like, am I the only person not keeping up?”

“Checkmate placed me in Spyral a number of years ago to stop them from finishing their mission,” Tiger explained flatly. “My goals aligned with Dick’s, even if our preferred methods did not. Fortunately, Dick was able to free Helena from Daedalus before I had to kill her.”

“Unfortunate for Agent 8 that she did not have the same opportunity,” Bruce said.

“We’ve already established Agent 8 was dead long before we got in the room,” Jason shot back.

A muscle twitched in Tiger’s jaw. Dick bumped their knees together.

“Can we focus on Bannon?” Dick said. “Tiger’s offering to explain to Maxwell Lord, and probably Amanda Waller if we’re being honest, that recruiting Bannon is a bad idea. Which it is. Shall I show off my scars? Or we could just wait until the next time I get a migraine?”

Bruce exhaled loudly through his nose. “Point taken. Tiger, if you think you can convince them, I won’t stop you. Do you intend to rejoin Checkmate?”

“No,” Tiger replied.

Jason raised his hands. “Well, that settles it. Now, out of respect to those of us with killer headaches, can we all shut up now?”

But Bruce was still watching Tiger. “You remained loyal to Checkmate for the duration of a very long undercover mission, which provided ample opportunity to defect. Ultimately, however, you carried out your mission and destroyed Spyral. Why not return to Checkmate?”

Tiger had somehow managed to retain eye contact. “Perhaps I have learned Checkmate is no longer the right place for me.”

Bruce just watched him.

Dick had to say something. “Yeah, I’d say going back to the organisation that wants to recruit the guy who tortured the shit out of both of us isn’t that appealing.”

“Even if I wanted to,” Tiger added, “it is unlikely I would pass their reintegration tests.”

“They just deputise people in the field most of the time anyway,” Tim said, tapping on his keyboard again. “Checkmate can afford to let an agent retire every so often.”

Tiger twitched a little at the word retirement. It was probably the correct word, but Dick supposed he hadn’t really thought about it like that. Or much at all. They had been preoccupied of late.

“We can always use more help in Gotham,” said Steph. “I think Tiger would look great in spandex.”

Tiger raised his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation.

“We’ve had that discussion already,” Dick said. “He vetoed the spandex.”

“Most of us don’t even wear spandex anymore,” Tim pointed out, frowning at his computer screen. “I think it’s safe to say Dick was the only one who ever liked wearing it.”

“Being able to bounce a quarter off my own ass isn’t any fun unless everyone else knows I can do it,” Dick replied. Tiger frowned at him.

“Is this another idiom? It is a bad one.”

“Is there such a thing as a good idiom?” said Tim.

Dick put a hand over his heart. “You take that back.”

Tim rolled his eyes and went back to typing. “I am very sorry, Dick. Please forgive me.”

Tiger looked like he had no idea what was going on. Which was fair. He and Damian shared a look.

It was probably for the best when Cassandra spoke up to bring everyone back on topic. “Tiger needs backup.”

Bruce nodded. “You have a point. Tiger, could you arrange a meeting if I provided a cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Do it. We will arrange backup once we know when you are expected.”

 It was a simple enough matter to call the external agent line and arrange a debriefing. Tiger didn’t typically use the phone line. It felt wrong to do it now. However, that was the technology Bruce had provided.

He was not sure what to make of this. He supposed it was not surprising to hear Bruce had known he was connected to Checkmate, but he still felt blindsided.

The matter of backup also had him on edge. He would have preferred Dick be on the mission, but that was not an option. Jason would likely not be chosen, either, especially now that his meeting had been scheduled during the day. He could not envision anyone from Dick’s family performing such a task in broad daylight.

Perhaps Helena was available.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dick had been lying in bed, watching the ceiling while Tiger had made the phone call. He had yet to fall ill today, but something didn’t seem… right. Tiger suspected he would have another attack tomorrow.

“I need to contact Helena,” Tiger said.

“For backup? Good idea. I’d go myself, but…”

“You are allergic to daylight.”

“Exactly.” Dick scowled; it didn’t suit him. “Fuck me… I really hope this isn’t permanent. I’m bored shitless. Seriously. I can’t even read.”

“Could you ever?”

“Oh, by all means, kick me when I’m down.” Dick pinched his leg. “This what they teach you at Checkmate?”

“Yes, we are trained to hurt your feelings. Yours specifically.”

“I can believe it.” Dick stretched. “You got a way to talk to her? I’ve got a communicator in here somewhere.”

“Yes, but Bruce may prefer to contact her himself… if he trusts her enough.”

“Ugh. I’ll talk to him.” Dick sat up slowly. “He’s probably down in the cave again.”

“The screens will give you a headache.”

“I’m already on the way to another migraine anyway.” Dick stood up and stretched. A joint cracked. “Ooh, that was nice.”

“Should I come with you?”

“Probably not.” Dick leaned down to kiss him. “I’ll be a few minutes. Probably. If you could go check on Jason, that’d be great. He’s been more off than usual since he and Bruce talked yesterday.”

“I am not the right person to address the problem.” Tiger knew very little about their problems, with the obvious exception that Jason died, came back and wanted the Joker dead.

“You don’t need to talk about it.” Dick crossed to the door. “Just hang out with him or something. Please?”

Tiger sighed. “Fine.” Saying no to Dick was hard at the best of times. So while Dick headed to the Batcave, Tiger knocked on Jason’s door.

“I’m not here,” Jason said.

“That is not how it works,” Tiger replied.

“Whatever. Come in.”

Tiger pushed the door open. Jason was sitting on his bed, twisting a screwdriver into the side of his grapple launcher. His face had more colour in it than it had this morning.

“Feeling better?” Tiger said dryly.

Jason snorted. “You really want the answer to that?” He set down the launcher. “Dick put you up to this?”

“Yes.”

“Well, at least you’re honest.” Jason patted the bed. “May as well come here. Should we braid each other’s hair? Talk about boys?”

Tiger sat down. “Are those normal activities for you?”

“Nah, I normally just scroll Grindr in my boxers while watching soap reruns.”

“Riveting.”

Jason shrugged. “Most of us aren’t one half of a battle couple.”

“A what?”

Jason laughed. That seemed like a good thing, but Tiger didn’t know him well enough to be certain. Dick would probably like it.

“You and Dick. Battle couple. You know, if you were in a movie you’d be standing back-to-back with a cool pose ready to kick some ass.”

That forced a single, bitter laugh out of Tiger without his permission. “Maybe we were like that before we left Spyral.”

“And now?”

“I’m not sure either of us will ever fight again.”

Jason lifted a knee to his chest and rested his chin on it. “Okay, so maybe if we can’t find medicine for Dick, or if he doesn’t get better on his own… he might not make it back into the field. But what’s stopping you?”

“Are you sure you want to have this conversation?” Tiger hadn’t even talked about this properly with Dick. He wasn’t sure where he stood.

“I asked.” Jason fixed him with a steady stare. Tiger had read his file; he was meant to have bluer eyes than this, but they were a disconcerting teal-green. Perhaps it was the Lazarus Pit. Either way, his stare was… penetrating. Tiger found himself answering.

“I don’t enjoy battle as much as I once did,” he admitted. “I am also experiencing… ethical concerns.”

“About killing people?”

“Yes.”

Jason sighed. “Look. I might not be the best guy to give advice, but maybe you should train more with Bruce. He’s a piece of work, but he’s a master of nonlethal combat. And maybe he’ll grow the fuck up if you spend more time with him. Hasn’t worked for me, but…”

It was worth considering, but that wasn’t the only thing on Tiger’s mind. He wasn’t sure he had the mental strength to work in the field anymore. It was easy enough to think it, but saying it was another matter entirely.

Jason was still looking at him. “I’ll be level with you, Tiger. We can always use an extra pair of hands here, but we’re not hurting for help. There are some new kids on the block who help out here and there. If you wanted to join us, I’d welcome you. But… it’s not for everyone. And, honestly? Every time someone successfully retires from this life, that’s a good thing. It proves to the rest of us that it’s possible. Because for some of us, the thought of not going out there every night is unthinkable. I mean, we literally don’t know how we’d cope without it. It’s a fucking addiction. So if in the end you decide you don’t want to fight anymore? Good for fucking you.”

“You’ve thought about retiring?”

“When I’m really fucking drunk, usually.” Jason groaned, rubbing his face. “And sometimes when I’m hungover. But I don’t think I’m ready for that. You talked about this with Dick yet?”

“No.”

“I get it. He’s got his own shit going on. You should talk to him, though.”

“I might, once we know if his migraines are treatable. I do not wish to add to his worries.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Dick likes it when you tell him shit. He’s like that with all of us.”

“Fine. If it comes up, I’ll tell him. If not…”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t know why I bother giving you relationship advice anyway. What the hell do I know?”

“Aside from how Grindr works? I have no idea.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, I set myself up for that one.”

 Dick almost took his sunglasses down into the Batcave, but then he wouldn’t be able to see shit. So he didn’t. Bruce was parked at the computer, frowning at the screen like he often did. He just looked like that, even when he wasn’t pissed.

“I used to think you were mad when you glared at the screen like that,” Dick said, leaning against a part of the computer that kept him mostly angled away from the worst parts of the screens.

“Hm.” Bruce pressed a button and the screens dimmed a little. “You did often ask what you’d done wrong when you were little.”

“Yeah, because I thought you were pissed at me.”

Bruce glanced up at him. “Stephanie tells me I have that kind of face.”

“Well, yeah. You do.”

Bruce’s concentration frown eased a little. “Better?”

“I mean, it’s like putting a band-aid on a bullet wound, but it’ll do.”

Bruce managed not to roll his eyes, but it did look like his soul left his body for a second. “Did you need something?”

“Tiger arranged a meeting with Checkmate. It’s during the day, so he was thinking Helena might make good backup instead of one of us. She’ll attract less attention.”

“And your thoughts?”

“I agree with him. Most of us are either too famous or too dead. And, I mean, a media frenzy about me taking my new boyfriend out on the town wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s ever happened, but I’m currently allergic to daylight, so…”

Bruce glared at his screen again, and this time he did seem irritated. “I’ll consider it. Cass or Stephanie are also an option.”

“We need Helena,” Dick said firmly. “If you want someone with her, that’s fine, but this is Tiger’s party. I think he should have a say in who gets invited.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine.”

“Okay.” That was easier than Dick had expected. “You know I get suspicious when you give in too easily, right?”

“I know.”

“I’m naming my next migraine after you.”

“I’m honoured.” Bruce typed something into the computer. “I imagine Tiger would prefer to contact Bertinelli himself, and that you intended to give him access to your communicator. You can give him one of the spares. Have Tim code it to give him a unique identifier.”

Dick would normally do it himself, but he couldn’t look at a screen for long enough. “Will do. What are you working on?”

“Updating crime files. Tim’s been playing with an electronic-paper display e-reader that you can use when your eyes are up to it. I’ll send some audio files if you like. The reader should nearly be ready for you.”

“Thanks.” That’d be easier on his head than a backlit screen, even if he still couldn’t use it when things got bad. “So.”

“Yes?”

“You knew Tiger was Checkmate.”

“Yes.”

“What gave it away?”

“Helena’s files on the Checkmate attack on Spyral were redacted, but I put the pieces together.” Bruce leaned back in his chair. “Tim may also have hacked into Checkmate’s systems temporarily. No identifying information, but it did confirm Checkmate had an agent inside Spyral. Tiger made the most sense, given all else I know about him.”

“So you didn’t actually know for certain.”

“I was certain enough.”

Bruce had been doing this work long enough to have developed a keen instinct for his things, so Dick couldn’t say that he was entirely surprised. He often uncovered the truth long before he had enough evidence to prove it. Dick had the same instincts, though he’d never claim they were as developed as Bruce’s were.

“Okay,” Dick said. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need some indication where your head’s at.”

Bruce switched off the computer screens and swivelled the chair to face Dick properly. “I don’t like being lied to. You know that. However, these past few months have demonstrated to me that a nuclear response is not the most effective.”

“No shit.” Dick couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice.

“So, he was going to kill Bertinelli?”

“It wasn’t personal. And he backed off as soon as I’d resolved the situation myself.”

“By taking Daedalus into your own head and kicking him out, yes. I read your report.” Bruce actually cracked a smile. “That sounds like you.”

“Believe me, I would’ve tried it again if I’d had the strength for it.”

“Hm.” Bruce rubbed his jaw. “That is the other problem. Whether it was intended or not, he did kill Agent 8 and lie about it.”

“No, he let us lie about it for him. It might not make a difference to you, but it does to me. And he did save my life, so…”

Bruce’s frown came back. “Yes. I’m aware. That makes it more difficult.”

“He wants to change, Bruce. He’s been trying. I don’t know if he even wants to do field work anymore, but he should train with us. Cass learned better. So can he.”

“I’ll consider it. After he meets Checkmate.”

“Fine. But I’m gonna tell Cass, and she’ll hold you to it.”

Bruce chuckled. “Clever.”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“I’m aware. I trained you.” Bruce got up. “How are you feeling? Up to some training?”

“Keep the lights down and we’ll find out.” Dick had missed the exercise, and it wasn’t every day he got to train with Bruce anymore.

It probably wouldn’t be a long session, but Dick could use some endorphins. Maybe a little adrenaline wouldn’t go amiss either. Lying around anticipating his next migraine had left him with a sense of lethargy. It took everything in him not to broadcast that to the world, but it was there.

Bruce kept the lights in the training ring dim, but enough to see by. They wrapped their hands and warmed up. Dick’s joints complained a little after so much inactivity, but they loosened up as he worked them.

“Tell me about Agent 8,” Bruce said once they were warm and facing each other.

“What’s there to tell that isn’t in my reports?” Dick jabbed lightly.

Bruce dodged. “I want to hear it from you.” He jabbed back. “Everything.”

Dick blocked; it hadn’t been a powerful hit. “Well, her name was Alia. She’s—she was—from Smallville.” He hit back.

Bruce blocked him. “And yet it appears she knew little of Superman.”

“He’d probably moved to Metropolis by the time she was old enough to think about it.” Dick dodged another strike. “I’m not sure of her age. Anyway, she was Tiger’s mission partner when I arrived.” He struck, and Bruce blocked him. “I worked with them on the Old Gun mission. This was before Tiger would give me the time of day.”

“Hate at first sight?” Bruce kicked.

Dick dodged. “Funny. I made some mistakes on that mission, so Tiger had to save my ass. He was… displeased. Alia yelled at me a bit, but we still got along pretty well. If you, uh, know what I mean.”

Bruce paused, sighing. “Really, Dick?”

“You have a literal child with Talia al Ghul. Don’t judge me.”

“Hn. Point taken.” Bruce increased the pace of his jabs. Dick was still keeping up, which was nice. “So, she faked her death at the end of that mission.”

“Yeah. And then Tiger and I got partnered together, which was, uh, not ideal. Until we worked it out.” Dick tried something a little flashier, ducking under Bruce’s punch and kicking the back of his knee.

Bruce stumbled but corrected. “Good work.”

“Thanks.” Dick had to dodge another punch. “Alia was working for Dr Netz and Daedalus the whole time. She masqueraded as me and killed spies who were meant to be off-limits. Helena thought it was Tiger doing it for a while, so I may have punched him in the face and abandoned him on her orders. But then Alia lured Tiger to Italy to kill him. I got there in time but lost the fight. She was still pretending to be me, so I hadn’t quite put it all together at that point. She used a Hypnos kill switch to take me down.”

“And then Tiger led Helena to believe Checkmate was behind all this?”

“Yeah. Not sure why. I guess he let Alia go so he could try to track her movements, or maybe she manipulated his affection for her.” Dick tried for another feint, but Bruce anticipated him and hit him in the stomach. Dick backed off, bending over to suck in air.

“When do you think Daedalus possessed her?”

Dick straightened, taking one last deep breath. “After she faked her death. Less scrutiny.”

“I agree.” Bruce adjusted the bandages on his right hand. “Had enough?”

“Normally I’d say no, but…”

“Better safe than sorry.” Bruce unwrapped his bandages. “You’ll need a good cooldown.”

Dick freed his hands from the wrappings and threw them at Bruce. “Duh.”

They stretched together, massaging aches out of their muscles as they went.

“One thing I don’t understand is how Tiger went from hating you, to, well…”

“Being here?” Dick laughed. “What can I say? I’m a charmer.”

Bruce just looked at him.

“Okay, fine. I’m going to redact some details because talking about sex with you is still fucking weird, but…” Dick lay on his back in a semi-supine position and took a few breaths to get his heart rate back down. “It’s a good story. Starts with me nearly falling out of a window, to being fake-married in suburbia, to the weirdest debrief with Helena I’ve had in my life. Get comfortable.”

Bruce and Dick weren’t really the type to talk about relationships with each other, but maybe that needed to change. Dick was willing to try if Bruce was.

So Dick told his story and Bruce listened.

At the end of it, Bruce helped Dick to his feet. They’d been down here a while.

“Tiger should ask Alfred if he can help in the garden,” Bruce said.

“That’s your takeaway?”

“I have a lot of takeaways. I’m just saying Tiger could use an outlet and he seemed to enjoy gardening.”

Bruce wasn’t wrong, but…

“I never thought you’d be giving mental health advice, Bruce.”

“I’m trying new things.” Bruce clapped his shoulder. “Look. I know I’ve dragged my feet on this matter. I don’t like change.”

“Everyone knows that, B.”

Bruce frowned at him. “Respect your elders.”

“Too late.”

Bruce threw that topic away and kept going with his original point. “What I mean to say is, I trust your judgment. Tiger has been very helpful in the short time he’s been with us. I’m not going to pretend I’m comfortable with his past, but I understand I have been harsher than I needed to be.”

Dick didn’t need to say anything. He could feel his opinions beaming out from his eyes, and Bruce was able to read them.

“Yes, I know I’m stating the obvious, Dick. I’m trying to say Tiger can stay here as long as he likes.”

“Good,” Dick replied. “Because if he goes, I go.” He smiled, and knew it was the most passive-aggressive smile he’d ever given anyone in this family. “Just so we’re clear.”

“Message received. Now stop smiling like that. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna take a shower.” But Dick paused halfway up the stairs. “Oh, and you might want to tell Tiger all this. I could talk to him, but he’ll believe it more if he hears if from you. Just saying.”

“We’ll talk when there’s time,” Bruce promised. “Now go drink some water.”

Dick rolled his eyes. It hurt a bit, which wasn’t a good sign. But at least he’d accomplished something today. There were enough problems without Bruce and Tiger being at each other’s throats.

He kept walking.

“Oh, and Dick?”

He paused.

“You were right to be angry,” Bruce said, barely loud enough to hear. “I did not anticipate I would suddenly be unavailable to you while you were undercover. That was an oversight, but I have always trusted you to think for yourself. You relied on your instincts to see you through to the end. I am proud of you.”

That was nice, but the delay stung. “It would’ve been nice to hear that months ago, Bruce.”

“I know.” Bruce looked steadily at him. “I’m sorry.”

Dick had hoped, but doubted, he would ever hear Bruce say those words. A small part of him wanted to reject the apology and wallow in his anger some more, but the more mature side of him prevailed. Dick could hold a grudge with the best of them, but it never felt good.

He breathed. “Okay. Thank you.”

[braincoins]

@tybunnythehellmoose

“You don’t mind if I record this, do you?”

“Of course not.” 

“Thank you.” The investigator from the United Kingdom’s Royal Society for Extrahuman Affairs started the recorder going on his phone and set it between them. He slid the file folders with him - Kairos’s DoVE folder was right on top - to one side and clicked his pen, setting it to the pad of yellow legal paper. “So, you are Kairos of Knossos, also known as Kairos Kineso, also known as Kairos Caine...”

“Ugh, I never use that last one anymore,” he groaned. “It was almost a joke to use it in the first place.”

The man arched an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Inside joke,” he added on, waving his hand dismissively. “And yes, I was born Kairos of Knossos, in the third year of the reign of Lycastus - in modern dating, 1653 BCE - in the fifth day of the reaping time. I was a scribe to Minos II in his palace before the Master turned me in 1630 BCE.” 

None of that was written down. “And this was the Bronze Age, yes?”

“Yes. Quite a long time ago.”

“You are one of those known as ‘the Firstborn’?”

“I am,” he agreed with a nod. So far, this was incredibly boring. Why am I doing this again? he asked Caitlin.

Grant says he was told to accommodate the man and aid in his investigation.

Investigation into what, exactly?

Firstborn, apparently. There was a sense of uneasiness that came with the message, and Kairos tried not to frown. Caitlin’s... status was hard to explain, and it was usually better to avoid it entirely. Most people assumed he had turned her and that she was, therefore, a Secondborn. He let them believe that, because it was the easiest way to explain how a woman whose birth certificate read “1985″ could possess so much power.

“Do you know the Watcher?” 

If his blood had been capable of such a thing, it would have gone cold at the question. “Most vampires know of the Watcher,” he replied carefully.

“Yes, ‘know of’. But do you know the Watcher personally?”

He wasn’t about to tell this random stranger the truth. “The Watcher is the mysterious adversary to the Master,” he answered.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“No one knows the Watcher, except the Watcher themselves.” Being philosophical about it kept him from lying. He would, if he had to, for Caitlin’s sake. Most of their kind viewed the millennia-long grudge match between the man who had made vampires and the Watcher as a kind of sporting event: amusing, but ultimately of little consequence. But he couldn’t be sure someone out there didn’t have a misplaced sense of loyalty to “the Master” and wouldn’t try to come after the love of his entire life and death.

This human could be in the service of such a vampire, or he could just be too nosy for his own good. Who knew what his plans were for the Watcher? 

The investigator snorted in annoyance. “Is the Watcher a Firstborn?”

"Who can say? We know of seven, and even most of those are lost to our knowledge. Perhaps the Master made more and we don't know." He dearly hoped he hadn’t made more. 

"Is the Watcher even a vampire?" 

"I've heard a great many tales, but, to me, the Watcher is an angel." He smiled innocently.

“An angel?”

“Not literally. More in the ‘better angels of our nature’ sense.”

The investigator frowned and scribbled some things on the pad before looking up. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“I’m hiding a great deal,” he agreed. “For example, in my day, we didn’t wear this many clothes.”

The man looked at him, eyes flashing with anger. Kairos simply sat there and radiated his own amusement. This man, well-fed and of good stock, stood near 6 feet tall and thus would have towered over him if they were standing. But he was human and facing a Firstborn, a vampire of singular power and strength. As the investigator’s anger increased, Kairos swapped his amusement for just the barest hint of warning. I could drain you dry before you could scream, had I the inclination. But that wouldn’t do anyone any good, least of all his brother-in-law, who was caught up in the DoVE bureaucracy and would not have a good time explaining to his colleagues over at RSEA about why their investigator was a desiccated husk.

The man sat back and stopped glaring. “Very well, let’s get back to you then.”

“Oh yes, let’s,” he said cheerily.

“You are currently married.”

“Happily, so don’t get any ideas.” He was having fun now.

The investigator said nothing to that. “And you have twins with your wife...”

“Yes, Ciaran and Brigid. Do you want to see photos?”

He went on as if there had been no interruption. “...who is also a vampire. How is that possible? We know that ova production ceases immediately upon death and that the uterus and remaining ova quickly become... inoperable.”

This was a truth he would have dodged with damn near anyone, if for no other reason than that he wasn’t sure how to explain it, really. Instead, he pointed out, “She wasn’t always a vampire,” and left it at that.

“The twins are dhampir, then?”

“Yes.” True, but, again, inexplicable.

“And you’re sure they’re yours?”

Anyone else might have been angry, but Kairos just burst out laughing. He probably should have been worried by the question, truth be told, because the implication was that a female vampire had somehow had children with a male human, which was thought to be impossible. That would point to some power or ability previously unknown, which would bring Caitlin back into the spotlight as a person of interest.

But Kairos was too amused to go through that train of thought. “You came here to interview me without doing the minimum of research? Or did you just forget?" He reached over to tap his folder on top of the stack. “I’m fully-registered with DoVE and all other relevant agencies in the countries where I do business -  including your RSEA. Did you read my file? My information is all right there, including my Gift.”

The man shifted in his chair. “Yes, I read your file,” he all but growled. “I know about your ‘expanded Sire’ Gift: you can Command all those of your bloodline, not just your Children. You can sense them, communicate with them telepathically at any distance, etc.”

“Did you miss the full implications of the phrase ‘of my bloodline’?” He had (mostly) stopped laughing - an occasional giggle escaped - and was in Patient Teacher Mode. “The twins are currently at school; I don’t even need to close my eyes to feel them there. So, yes, as they are ‘of my bloodline,’ they are my children, even though they are not my Children.” He smiled again, but more coldly this time. “Should I let them know you say hello?”

“That won’t be necessary. This is enough for now.” He stopped the phone recording. “I may want to interview you at another time.”

Kairos stood, and though he was not of impressive stature, the sheer power at his beck and call made him seem taller and more muscular. He was the founder and CEO of a worldwide import/export business, with seats on the boards of many other companies. He was a multi-billionaire who was on a first name basis with many powerful people. And, of course, he was one of the oldest and most powerful beings on the planet. 

He pulled all that power to him, wearing it like a mantle draped over his expensive business suit, and raised his chin just a little as he looked at the human.

“Mr. Kineso, sir,” the investigator added quickly.

He nodded. “Of course. I am at your disposal, day or night.” He added that last phrase on as a reminder: he was so old that even the noonday sun was a nuisance and not an immediate death sentence. 

The investigator gathered up his phone and the files and scurried out of the room...

...where Grant caught him. “So, how’d it go?” Before he could answer, Kairos’s brother-in-law (and head of the New York City office of DoVE) kept going. “You can tell me all about it at this great bar I know, right around the corner. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.” He all but pulled the man away from Caitlin and down the hall.

Kairos walked out and looked at his wife. He was the Fifth of the Firstborn, uniquely powerful, it was true. But he relinquished his mantle of power and smiled fondly at Caitlin Kineso nee O’Leary, his wife, the mother of his children, and the Fourth of the Firstborn, known to the vampiric world as The Watcher. 

“Do you think he’ll want to interview me?” she asked, more curious than afraid.

“Grant will no doubt convince him it’s a waste of time. Everyone thinks you’re Secondborn. What about Abrihet?” A sister Firstborn, and a friend of theirs.

“She’s conveniently on vacation, visiting Athanasia.” She wrapped him up in a hug. “I hear they might go to Crete.��

He hugged her back. “Oh good, she’ll finally get some culture then.”

Caitlin laughed, and his heart that had stilled thousands of years ago felt like it skipped a beat. “It’s unbecoming of a Firstborn to fight so childishly with a Secondborn,” she teased him gently.

“It’s unbecoming of a Greek Secondborn to try to tell a Cretan Firstborn that hers is the superior culture,” he shot back. 

She snorted. “But seriously, Kairos, what should we do about this? Is it really so big a deal to let RSEA or DoVE or all the rest of them know I’m the Watcher?”

“You want to have to explain all of that to them?” he asked. “Do you want them trying to figure out how you traveled through time so that they can manipulate it for their own ends?”

“They won’t figure it out. I don’t even know how it happened.”

“But if they know it’s possible, they’ll try to do it.” He tipped her face up to his. “You already spent millennia setting the world right so we could be together again, my dearest. Do you want to do it again?”

“I would,” she said softly, looking into his eyes. “For you, I would.”

He murmured his thanks in his own long-forgotten tongue, pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I’d rather you not have to. DoVE doesn’t need to know this, and neither does some limey Brit.”

She laughed again. “Has my Irish bloodline’s hatred of the British rubbed off on you?”

“No, I just like hearing you laugh.” And it was the truest thing he’d said all day, right up until he said, “I love you.”