#would actually commit crimes to defend her honor

[bonefall]

the ShadowClan talk made me look through Brokenstar's BB Tags, and. a) is Lizardstripe still related to Finchflight, if you are keeping Finch-Dawn as a couple (with Dawncloud's age redux)? b) i keep seeing stuff about Snowtuft and killing kits, but i cant find anything actually detailing on that on the blog, and one of the older posts also mentions that Blizzardwing is either his son/grandson AND that Lizardstripe's mother was the kit he couldn't kill. what is all that about, im dying to know.

This is info that's scattered across a bunch of different posts, plus more deets and changes I haven't had a chance to dive into. Snowtuft committed an atrocity which would torment his victims and descendants for generations, for both its legacy and its trauma.

SO I wanna put as much of it as possible into one place for now, so you don't have to go guessing based on older posts. Especially since some of those posts are long outdated, but I haven't contradicted them yet.

To start the story of the two families, it begins with Snowtuft and the bloody end of the Crusade Era.

CONTENT WARNING; this is one of BB's darkest tales. It involves depictions of xenophobic violence, child murder, war crime, PTSD, abuse, and kidnapping. BB!Snowtuft's a bad kitty!

SEE: Kitten Stealing

(Also: After writing it out, I kinda realized this would be great as a BB entry on its own. I should come back and clean this up someday.)

PART 1: THE LAST CRUSADE

Cedarstar inherited the Crusades from Houndstar, continuing them more out of respect for her legacy than true zealotry.

He had actually been chosen as a deputy because he would run the Clan while she was off gallavanting.

He wasn't a pushover or anything, just prefered logistics. Him and Pinestar were tragically ahead of their time.

...but like other cats of his time, he was from a culture that didn't extend personhood beyond the Clans. So, he continued the Crusades.

Even though they weren't getting easier.

Crystal of Chelford had already used a new tool to carve a red future for the cats of the town...

and what were once defenseless little targets began to unite into organized, armed response teams.

Non-BloodClan "zones" got rarer and rarer.

The territory and underlings of an influential cat named Jay were among the last holdouts, so it's where most of ShadowClan's raids were launched.

And on one of these raids... it happened fast.

Snowtuft turned an alley and was ruthlessly attacked. He defended himself.

In the confusion, another assailant ran towards him. He acted swiftly.

It was reflex! Instinct! He couldn't tell what was coming at him. It was a split second decision.

He couldn't undo what had happened. The kitten was dead, next to its mother.

And the others were screaming, crying, terrified.

Snowtuft doesn't remember what he did next. He doesn't want to.

But Puffballburr does.

She used to see it every night.

She remembers her name, too-- Pixie. And her mom. And her littermates.

And the look that washed over his eyes when he realized the ragged flesh at his feet was a kitten.

Raw shock, electrifying shame, the dawning horror of knowing you've definitely done something that you're going to get punished for.

And when his white, blood-splattered face turned slowly towards her and her wailing siblings, she recognized that emotion too.

It's a very childlike response, really.

He needed to cover up his accident.

And he almost did, too. It was dumb luck that stopped him as he grabbed her tail and dragged her out from her hiding place. One of his clanmates heard the awful racket, and Pixie had survived just long enough.

PART 2: ONE OF US

They took her away, just like any other "honor kitten," but the Clan cats believed this was different somehow.

Something about the naked horror of what Snowtuft did, maybe. Impossible to ignore.

But it's not like he faced any real justice for it, not that Puffballkit could remember seeing. So clearly it wasn't very different at all.

His mate left him, and the older warriors regarded him with a distant sort of "shame." He was ostracized from many circles.

But Puff's siblings had not been "clan cats" so the Warrior Code did not apply to them. He faced social dishonor, not legal.

Ever-merciful Cedarstar did not want to "ruin" more lives.

"Not when the kit is far too young to even remember what happened," he said. But she did remember.

And her name. Her mom. Her littermates. That face.

She just knew, growing up, that she couldn't know about it.

Because Snowtuft was always right there, just around the curve of the den, just behind the cover of the rose bush thorns, listening.

They're ALL Snowtuft.

To admit she remembers it is to admit she isn't one of them. And if you're not one of them, the law does not apply to you.

As a kid, she couldn't articulate it. But she understood it.

Deep down to her brittle, kittypet bones. Her filthy, stillwater blood.

The ungrateful heart that beat in her chest.

Fear expressed as a constant, calm obedience of authority. A permanent dread, as if living in a pack as a sheep in wolf's clothing

So she was quiet, notoriously so.

Whoever her foster was, Puff was like a little white shadow. It's where the warrior name came from, eventually-- a puffball clinging to someone's fur. (after writing this though, half of me wants to start calling her Lambfur or Lambfrost.)

ShadowClan plunged into the Campaign Era with Heatherstar's invasion of the Mothermouth Moorland, and the massacre of some kittypet family became awkward history. Those old enough to remember still kept a distance from Snowtuft... but war took its toll.

War means death and those older members of the Clan are not replaceable.

Younger cats weren't there to see the horror of what Snowtuft had done... and time would make him bolder.

Finding growing sympathy in his apprentices, spurred on by the hardening of the culture in tandem with the official birth of Thistle Law, Snowtuft started to change history.

The official Educator of ShadowClan (still unsure who this was) had one story, and Snowtuft had one too.

"Details" were quietly changed in his. They weren't "kits" but "young cats." They charged out to aid their mother. Then maybe she wasn't their mother. Who knows.

Pullball's name was left out of these stories, on both sides. No need for the kittens to know that she wasn't one of us.

And if she was? That's a good thing for her. Living the life of a Clan cat.

He wouldn't share if "he wasn't asked," but all of his actions, his language, was a silent plea to be asked.

He wanted to forget the whole thing, because of his nightmares, his constant shame and punishment, how hard the whole ordeal made his life-- but he couldn't so it was constantly coming out of his mouth.

There was a deep resentment on his end, towards Puffballburr. How she was part of the Clan now, always reminding him. Like it was her fault.

In the end, Snowtuft didn't blame himself. He blamed everything else. The guilt was killing him a little bit every day...

But not as much as that WindClan cat's claws did. Those killed him a lot in one day!

But Snowtuft's death didn't bring Puffballburr any peace. She just felt... annoyed. Which was strange to her-- she should feel relief, but, she didn't. She was just thinking about how the next battle with WindClan would be harder without an extra set of claws.

PART 3: GOING HOME

Puffballfur is the queen of low empathy, and her emotions are... hard to predict.

Not in a chaotic sort of way, but in a "Huh, interesting, I didn't think that of all things would get me going" sort of way.

She both lives in constant "fear" but also a persistent banality. It's kind of like being in a cage with a chained tiger, but you've marked the exact spot on the floor where the tiger's chain ends.

Imagine getting nightmares that stop you from sleeping, but you know that they aren't going to come true. So you lay there with a throbbing heart, mostly feeling annoyed that you're going to be tired in the morning.

That's her life.

Sometimes when she couldn't sleep, she'd roll on her back in the nest and critique the assassination attempt in her mind.

Did he think his dumb plan through? Or did he just react without thinking? It was going to be obvious he killed a bunch of kids, whether she survived or not.

Or maybe he would have just said that the rogue killed her own kits to prevent them from becoming Clan cats. They'd probably believe that.

Either way it was sloppy. Could have had more kits if he didn't kill her sibs.

She had connections within the Clan. A foster, hunting buddies, apprentice. She was kind to them, especially when they were useful. But...

It feels like she's not like them. Like they have variables to their behavior that she doesn't. Drives and desires that are pointless, sometimes even frustrating.

Like the concept of "honor." Ridiculous. Every single person who talks about it is hypocritical about it in some way, and it causes unnecessary fights in the camp and on the border because of ridiculous ego.

She just performs it because the other cats value it-- and when people like you, you get what you want.

I'm not sure who her mate was, or if it was even just one. In any case, when she found herself pregnant, she declared Queen's Rights. I feel like she might have had a fling with someone, but got annoyed by their clingy behavior.

When her daughters were born, Bracketkit and Lizardkit, she felt pride.

Because... they didn't belong to someone else. They weren't even really ShadowClan's. They were hers.

For the first time since her mother and littermates had been taken away from her, she felt like she was looking at family. People who would always be with her.

But that didn't last...

...because a chance encounter only a few moons later reconnected her with someone who remembered her.

Not a littermate, but an older sister. Marmalade. She couldn't believe that Pixie was alive.

This is a WIP zone because I'm not sure, yet, if I'm keeping Hal's attack on ShadowClan. In any case, they continued to reconnect for moons.

The fact that she was remembered, that she could talk openly about what happened, and that Marmalade wanted her and her kittens to come home made Puffballburr's stomach flutter with excitement. She felt valuable.

And with the war getting worse and worse, this was absolutely the best choice for her kittens as well. They would be safer with BloodClan than they would with ShadowClan.

No longer would she be Puffballburr. Her name was Pixie.

ENTER: LIZARDSTRIPE

Puffballburr wasn't a bad mother, but it would feel a lot better to be Lizardstripe if she could have the simplicity to just say she was.

Her earliest memories of her mom and her sibling were outside of the camp on a cool, clear spring night, laying in soft marshgrass. Puff was laying on her back with her hind legs bowed out, a kit tucked under each paw, pressed to her fluffy, warm chest. Her face was turned upward, quietly, at the moon, as her daughters slept peacefully.

She's not sure how long after she'd opened her eyes that this memory took place, but Lizardkit looked up towards the bright, starry sky... and she remembered that the light hurt.

Her needs were always taken care of, but Puffballburr hated explaining things.

You learned quick to treat your questions like a valuable resource, and to listen carefully.

Lizardkit was sharp, much sharper than her sister. She caught onto the way that her mother viewed relationships in a very transactional sort of way-- and stayed aware of her balance.

And had to consider the cost of doing the things her mother was fond of, versus what the other kittens and queens in the nursery expected of her.

What Puffball didn't realize when her children were born was that they were family, but they were also ShadowClan. Even if this was not something she had ever felt a connection to.

Deep down, it didn't truly click with her that her children were not extensions of herself.

And when Lizardkit was a child, learning history from the Educator and getting involved in more of the Clan's goings-on, Puffballburr spent less and less time with her. Because she was reconnecting with Marmalade.

When Bracket and Lizard had their apprentice ceremony, Puffballburr was not there.

Lizardpaw's mentor was the infamously powerful, chaotic fighter, Finchflight. Bracketpaw was assigned to Brackenfoot. (There is an earlier post suggesting that Lizi and Finf were going to be related. I decided to make them mentor/apprentice instead.)

Finchflight immediately began to stress the importance of loyalty. Being one of the younger cats who had sympathized with Snowtuft and knowing the secret behind Puffballburr's beginnings, he nurtured a pain within Lizardstripe. Encouraged her to let the distance between her and her family grow.

Eventually, Puffball told her children that they were going to leave ShadowClan. They had family in the town, would be safe there, could start a brand new life together.

And Lizardpaw was shocked.

It was like everything Finchflight had said was true.

And they were going to leave her.

She reacted violently to the suggestion, attacking her mother. Told them that she was going to expose them, lead a patrol right back to their new hiding place, bring them "back home."

In defense of Puffballburr, Bracketpaw brawled with her sister. They fought viciously, until their mother separated them with a desperate, devastating whack to Lizardpaw's head.

Laying dazed on the ground, she heard an apology before passing out.

When she woke up, she was safely protected within a blackthorn bush-- with a nick on the outside of her ear.

She stayed out there for hours, not knowing what to do, where her family had gone, or what she was going to say when she got home.

But, looking at her reflection in a puddle of water, she became so angry at the idea of this being her first scar that she ripped the other ear, on the opposite side.

When the search party found her, they asked what had happened to her. If she had seen her mother or her sister, or if something had gone wrong.

"Nah. Took a nap to get away from them. Ripped my ears on the thornbush."

Later, when she would be interrogated or questioned by people she didn't want to lie to, she would tell a half-truth;

"I did it to myself. Liked how it looked. Last I saw of Puffballburr and Bracketpaw, they were upset I'd done it and left, so I took a nap."

She didn't mind that her Clanmates thought this was weird. She didn't care about whispers that it was all done for attention, or that it was dishonorable to do such a thing and they probably met a predator after storming off, and she didn't even mind the gossip guessing at the "real" reason behind her ripped ears.

The only people who ever got the whole truth were the Forget-Me-Nots. After their disappearance, Lizardstripe didn't talk about her family for years, insisting upon having no further details. Even if it meant that mystery and suspicion would hang around her like a cloud.

BLIZZARDWING: KIN OF SNOWTUFT

Snowtuft's daughter was named Lilyfur. She was a kit when her father slaughtered Pixie's family.

When her mother left her father, she also distanced herself from him. This was something Snowtuft was outraged and saddened by.

But Lilyfur's mother couldn't stand the idea of a kitten-killer trying to stay close to her daughter. How could he look at little babies, the same age as his own child, and kill them?

Lilykit grew up very conflicted. She remembered how much she loved her dad, understood that he was a kitten murderer, but he continued to be so kind to her into adulthood.

It was hard to think of him as someone who could do something so horrible.

Earlier draft had Lilyfur die and her kittens were raised by their kin, Snowtuft, but I'm currently leaning towards Lilyfur being alive but just letting him be an active part of their lives-- in spite of her discomfort.

Because the more time he spent in her life, paradoxically, the more obsessed he became with all the "time he lost out on."

Which ended up including entertaining a lot of conversations about how he'd never done anything wrong, ever, and everyone was mean to him.

Lilyfur: "ok maybe he's not evil but my dad is really annoying <:/ but he's really lonely. He needs me. and i cant take him away from his grandkits"

From this, what Blizzardwing absorbed was the idea that love and forgiveness was always tolerating your family no matter what. This would express itself in his toxic relationship with Hollyflower.

But Blizzardwing now has a sibling. I haven't settled on a name yet-- but I'm playing with him either being Angelshade or Silkflower.

I really like the name "Angelshade" as a reference to the notoriously deadly white mushroom, the Destroying Angel. But also. someone in the audience asked if I could give the prefix "angel" to a cat because it's their name, and I feel a little bad about giving it to a character who is going to be one of the nastiest little background characters in all of BB lmaooooo

i'm so sorry angel (positive), is it okay if there's an angel (derogatory)

ANYWAY, Untitled Blizzardwing Sibling grew up adoring his grandpaw.

Radicalization can be a slow creep. He loved peepaw, so if he was asked when he was young, he would happily repeat the adjusted version of history he was taught.

And then when Snowtuft died, he wanted to remember him fondly. The story slowly changed, becoming more "accurate," just getting more comfortable with the idea of dehumanizing outsiders.

So what, if he killed some kittypet? And if some kits had already been indoctrinated into their kittypet life? It was still a gain for ShadowClan, in the end.

One summer day, without warning, he came home with two little kittens. One was white, one was brown, both had the pinkish tinge of poorly cleaned blood.

He grinned playfully at Brokenstar, and claimed Queen's Rights in a singsong tone.

Because of that rite, no one could ask where he'd gotten those kittens from. But everyone knew he'd done something grim.

Those kits, Whitewater and Brownstone, grew up under the crescendo of Brokenstar's reign, both taking part in the WindClan Massacre.

Whitewater's bloody story includes joining Mudclaw's Rebellion, giving birth to three kits, a souring relationship with her son, condemnation to the Dark Forest, ends in the Battle of the True Eclipse after killing her grandson.

Brownstone's tale includes a relationship with a WindClan cat during the bloodiest period in the history of their two Clans.

And their father's story ends in Chelford, after being exiled from ShadowClan by Nightstar. His canon counterpart is the Unnamed White Rogue from Rise of Scourge, who tries to order Scourge to be his personal servant.

(the other two cats are Braketail, the "Offbrand Brokenstar" pale tabby, and Pirateheart, the gray rogue with green eyes. Glitch Warriors for the pile!)

[eggs-attorney]

[<<< First] [< Prev]

Eggman: We now convene for the trial of Yanshu Dryll the Mole. I trust the prosecution is ready to commence?

Payne: The prosecution's been ready for days, your honor.

Eggman: And is the defense ready to proceed?

Reiker: Yes, your honor.

Reiker: (Yeah… Ready. No evidence, no alternate theories… Guess I should just pay attention and do my best.)

Payne: Seems the murderer finally gathered enough funds for a private defender. How'd you do it? Kill another robot? Rob a casino?

Eggman: Actually, this man is our new public defender. This will be his first case.

Payne: Oh, how precious… I bet he'll be running out of town with his tail feathers between his legs after we confirm the guilty verdict.

Reiker: (… Is he serious?)

Eggman: We’ll see, now… Let's not keep this waiting any longer than we already have. Prosecutor Payne, your opening statement?

Payne: The solution to this case is so obvious that no private defense attorney would even pick up the case! In fact, I almost feel sorry for the poor sap standing across from me.

Reiker: Can we get on with it instead of gloating?

Payne: So eager to face your own demise? Very well, then…

Payne: The crime took place around 8:45 PM last Wednesday. The victim, Flash Driver, is a new member of the doctor’s E-5000 line.

Payne: The victim was found with his legs battered and multiple components taken out of their rear hatch. We cannot obtain camera footage due to the parts being missing, however, we have multiple reasons to believe it was the mole standing before us today.

Reiker: Wait, his legs were battered?

Eggman: This is basic information, did you not read the autopsy report!?

Reiker: With all due respect, you never gave me the autopsy report, your honor.

Eggman: Hm… I suppose in this instance your ill-preparedness is somewhat understandable. Don't let it happen again.

Payne: Feh. Here, fledgling - your first piece of evidence. Please try to keep your gape-mouthed self from drooling all over the pages.

Strait: … I think I’ll be fine, thanks.

Autopsy Report (Flash) has been added to the Court Record.

Reiker: (I should take a closer look at that. Remember, Strait - evidence is a lawyer's best friend! Good thing I keep it Pinned at the Top of my mind!)

Reiker: I notice you haven't mentioned a motive, or why my client is your prime suspect. Was she even near the crime scene at the time of the murder?

Payne: Listen, kid, I have this case down tight. Your defendant there is one of 10 people who could have possibly committed the crime at hand.

Reiker: … One of 10? How do you figure?

Payne: Let's just call them the tools of the trade. Specifically, the tool set a Robo-Tech like her uses daily.

Eggman: Ah, you must be referring to the Omnitools, no?

Reiker: Omnitools?

Eggman: You're familiar with the concept of an army knife, correct? Imagine a compact device like that, equipped with every screwdriver, wrench, and key needed to access all the technical parts of my machines, including Robians. This one is assigned to her.

Yanshu's Omnitool has been added to Court Record.

Payne: No one could have accessed the stolen parts without those tools, not to mention that Yanshu was the last person to meet with the victim, during a routine maintenance checkup…

That was anything but routine!

Eggman: Uh... Interesting. In what way was it not routine?

Payne: Well, the perpetrator is right here. Why don't we ask her? Miss, let's start with your name and occupation.

Yanshu: Eep! I, um… M-… My name is Yanshu Dryll. I'm a Class C Robo-Tech, f-for the Main Division…

Payne: And if I'm correct, you assisted the victim…

On the day of the murder!?

Yanshu: W-well, yes, but that doesn't mean I killed him!

Eggman: The court will be the judge of that. Now, if you could please testify regarding this maintenance appointment you had.

Yanshu: Y-yes doctor- I mean, sir! I mean-… Y-yes, your honor!

Testimony 1 - The Maintenance Appointment

1:) I had been assigned to Flash to do a routine checkup, scheduled for Wednesday at noon.

2:) All the required checks were proceeding as normal, and the appointment was rather short.

3:) My boss came by and signed off on my maintenance sheet…

4:) … And shortly after that, Flash left, just like he usually does. That was the last time I saw him.

Reiker: (Hm… Not much to work with... At least that old cat has just as little information as I do.)

Reiker: (But if that’s really the case, why does he look so confident…?)

Payne: … Really? That's all you have to say?

Yanshu: Y-yes, and it’s the truth! Wh-… What more could you want?

Eggman: I will kindly ask the prosecution to not badger the witness. Now, defense, are you ready for the cross examination?

Reiker: (I need more information… Just gotta dive into the old Thought Pool and figure out what to ask. Maybe I'll glean some new information! Once I think I've got it down pat, I can Present an idea by connecting a Statement with an Item in the Court Record!)

[Next >]

[dippedinmelancholy]

TW for spoliers for Dragon Age Inquistion (I guess????? It't been 10+ years guys) I keep seeing a lot of people talking about Solas and how horrible he is ( keep my wife's name out of your mouth, I love him your honor) but like, honestly as someone who fell in love Dragon Age Inquisition, it triggered my entire love for the whole series . . . people are missing something huge. Literally all of the main companions, and honestly all of the Advisors, are morally grey, fucked up people. Cole - Literally a spirit/demon. Kills people to 'help'. Varric - Bro is in a long term affair with a woman he can't/won't commit to, is constantly running from responsibility. Sera - Claims to be on the side of the small and helpless, could not give two fucks about the elves at all. Is obscenely racist and cruel, especially if you're playing Dalish. Doesn't seem to give any fucks for how her actions make others feel. Cassandra - Seeker/Templar. Thedas cop. Doesn't care that the mages are regularly abused and violated. Blindly believes in the Chantry, and even after she is given evidence of their fucks ups, cannot pull herself away. Iron Bull - Once again, massively dangerous, worse than a cop. Warrior/master spy. Openly infiltrates your group, sees no sin in how the Qunari operate or stripping people entirely of rights. Blackwall - War criminal????? Fucks you in a barn and leaves???? Takes on the identity of a Warden all in hopes that he can pretend hard enough to be a decent person. Again, dude fucks you in a barn. Jail. Gross. Vivenne - Hungrily plays the politics of Orlais. Believes in keeping the mages in Circles, regardless of the abuse, and is constantly out for her own gain. Her reasonings are wholly selfish. Dorian - Bro defends slavery like five minutes after meeting you. The need for gay rights doesn't fix that my guy. Solas - Doesn't see anyone in the world as people unless/until you change his mind. Sees the Iquisition as a means to an end, and your Inquisitor as someone to manipulate to get to his end goals. Cullen - Reformed Templar, fighting addiction and his past crimes. Abused, violated, he didn't believe mages were people. Josephine - Was a Bard in Orlais. Sounds nice, actually murderous. Killed a friend, is haunted by the act. Though sweet, plays the Game as ruthlessly as anyone else. Leliana - Assassin, murderer, has no problems with being brutal and manipulating everyone for her end goals. Every single one of them are terrible. They are people who have done terrible things, brutalized others, and yet have chosen to stay with the Inquisition. From all corners of Thedas, and yet dedicated to protect the world. Even Solas. His goal to tear down the veil isn't a desire to destroy the world. It's to save the very crumb of his people that remains. And in all of these characters, YOU shape them. You help them choose to be better or worse. That is the beauty of Inquisition. When the world is falling to shit, the sky is literally caving in and a would be god is trying to destroy you all out of spite, PEOPLE come together. They want to protect the world. If you're going to apply a cold, unmoving and non-understanding moral compass to Solas, you better be prepared to do it to every single one of them.

[iamnmbr3]

harry potter #15 :] very interested in hearing your thoughts on this

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done

Excellent question. I'm going to give two answers - because one is a scene I hate and usually ignore. If we go strictly by canon, then in my opinion hands down for me Harry's darkest moment is the bit in book 7 when he uses the Cruciatus Curse on Amycus Carrow to great effect and without any remorse. I actually loathe this scene and find it to be very poorly written resulting in it feeling jarring and ooc to the point that I usually pretend it didn't happen (though I think it had potential if it had been handled better).

Let me explain. A really notable moment in the series comes in book 5 when Harry is unable to effectively use the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix even though he's just seen her murder Sirius because even though he's angry, he isn't able to truly enjoy seeing another human being suffer and thus struggles with the spell. And if ever there was a moment when even a very kind and compassionate person might be tempted to enjoy seeing someone else suffer, you'd think facing someone like Bellatrix, who has committed innumerable heinous crimes, right after watching her murder a loved one might push them over the edge. But even such extreme circumstances don't do it for Harry. And then in book 7 it all changes because he witnesses Amycus Carrow...being rude...to Professor McGonagall. Listen. I love Minerva McGonagall. But if Bellatrix murdering Sirius in cold blood wasn't enough to enrage Harry then having THIS be the thing that sets him off feels like too much of a stretch.

The thing that really kills the scene for me though is everyone's reactions...or rather, non-reactions. Remember that this spell is absolutely agonizing when done correctly - equivalent to the agonies produced by the worst and most painful conventional Muggle torture. It's so bad even using it once carries a life sentence in Azkaban. It's so bad repeatedly using it on someone is enough to drive them insane. And Harry knows just how awful a spell it is since he himself has been a victim of it.

And when he uses this horrible, heinous cruel spell on another human being what's the reaction? Nothing. He doesn't feel guilt. He doesn't question himself at all. He doesn't think about it. Well ok. This could be an interesting, dark moment for his character. It could be a chance to explore how the war has changed him or how angry and frustrated he's feeling in that moment or to suggest that perhaps the Horcrux fragment is corrupting him and lots could be done with the fallout as he deals with what he's done and as other characters react to it.

But no. Because no other characters react as though he's done anything wrong either. McGonagall isn't disturbed or horrified or concerned. She actually compliments him and says it was "gallant" of him to defend her honor in that way. Uh. What?! No it wasn't. He could've just used a Stunner to defend her. Instead he did something that no one should do to anyone - something that is considered deeply taboo and awful even in the rather dystopian wizarding world. And no one cares. The narrative doesn't even remark on it. We're just supposed to all go "yayyy hero!" and move on. So at that point, why even include it? If he'd stunned or disarmed Amycus it would have had the same narrative impact. I know why the scene is really there. It's to try to tease the possibility that he will use the Killing Curse since he's used the other 2 Unforgivables by that point. But that's cheap and stupid.

The moment is dumb and ooc and none of the potential that could make it work and be actually in-character is explored. Consequently it feels like a very badly written ooc plot hole. So normally I just ignore it. Book 7 has a lot of lazy writing and while I can fix some of it, this moment and the retcon where suddenly people can be their own Secret Keepers are two moments that are just too bad for me to even bother with so I straight up ignore them.

But if we consider this part canon then it's definitely Harry's darkest and worst action, even if it's not given the narrative weight that it should be.

If we ignore that scene then his worst act is forcing Lockhart to go first into the Chamber of Secrets, knowingly putting him at risk of being killed and eaten.

In my opinion not putting more effort into working towards freeing Kreacher is also horrible but that's more of a bigger issue with the narrative where JKR retcons Harry's original horror at discovering Dobby's predicament and tries to convince the readers that most house elves are happy and benefited by being enslaved (no; they are not. Slavery is disgusting and inherently violent and harmful). Presumably Harry does free Kreacher after the war. But yeah. I find the whole way the story handles house elves to be quite repellent. And I hate that Harry originally had the right attitude and then JKR retconned it.

Send me a character and a number.

[toweringclam]

Paramount City: The Metropolitan Defenders

(click here for part 1)

"Truth, peace, and prosperity."

Summary: The big superhero team missing their Superman.

It's no exaggeration to say that when Paragon appeared, the world changed. She was a beacon of hope for a city suffering under crime, corruption, and the aftermath of the first Rift War. People called her the first superhero, and though scholars think supers had existed for a long time, they were never so public. So inspiring. Shortly after, many others followed her example, but Paragon stood alone.

However, the second Rift War saw the rise of supervillains. People of evil intent, who used their powers not for the greater good, but to prey on the weak and enslave people to their will. Paragon realized she could not fight them alone, and for the first time, teamed up with other like-minded individuals to fight the rising tide of darkness.

Thus, the Metropolitan Defenders were born.

The original and most storied team, to this day they remain the example for others to follow. The Defenders are what you think of when someone says "hero." Yet they've suffered many losses over the years. All the original founders have either passed or retired, honored with great golden statues in the Hall of Heroes.

Most recent and most devastating was the loss of Paragon herself. During the Phyrexian Invasion, she used the last of her strength to wrest control of the Rift from Lord Riven and cleanse the world of Elesh Norn's corruption at the cost of her own life. Now, for the first time since their founding, the Defenders are under new leadership. While an impressively heroic figure in his own right, Paragon II struggles to live up to his namesake's legacy.

The Metropolitan Defenders are centered on White as their ideals are focused on peace and justice. However, Blue mana pulls in the direction of institutional justice, while Green pulls towards social justice. In the civic unrest following the Phyrexian Invasion and Paragon I's death, these divides are deeper than ever.

The Peacekeepers are centered in Blue. They believe that law and order are paramount. A society need stable and trustworthy institutions, not just feel-good platitudes about community and togetherness. While they intervene in riots (often by subduing both sides), they also work to get better laws passed and restore infrastructure lost in the war.

The Gardeners are centered in Green. They believe that protecting people is more important than protecting institutions. While they're troubled by all the riots and protests, they believe the solution is found at the community level. People who are fed, housed, and secure don't commit crimes, they say, though the existence of Lord Riven and his ilk seems like a contradiction.

Most Defenders don't fall neatly into one of these camps, either trying to balance these opposing philosophies or ignoring them altogether in favor of their own moral compass.

Notable characters:

Queen Kevnor (WU, merfolk) hails from the undersea kingdom of Cantergellod. She is able to walk on land and breathe air unaided, a rare mutation that would have had her ostracized if the throne had had another heir. A thought leader among the Peacekeepers, she is sometimes criticized as a foreign interventionist, but she was actually born in Paramount City and sometimes feels more at home there than with her own kind.

Cyronia (WG) is heir to a long tradition of druids and healers, passed mother to daughter since ancient times, though she was cast out of the circle for "illegitimately" inheriting her power. She grew up on the streets, using her powers of healing and growth to build a following among the poor and destitute. As leader of the Gardeners, she helps establish clinics, community gardens, shelters, and other resources for people left behind by the rest of the city.

Intellectus (UG, Vedalken) is a strange visitor from another world who appeared in Paramount City just in time to warn of the impending Phyrexian invasion. Initially held in Omega custody, he was rescued by the Defenders and decided to lend his psychic powers to their cause. When moving about in public, he projects the illusion of private investigator Ken Badel to hide his alien features.

Paragon II (GWU), previously known as Gatewatch, is the Defenders' new leader. Tall and muscular, with a chiseled jaw and long, flowing hair, he certainly cuts the profile of a hero. However, he only appeared a few years ago, with no memory of who he was or how he got to Paramount City. Although he projects confidence, he's plagued by self-doubt, and regrets that he can't even remember. Yet Paragon appointed him as her successor, so he will do his best to fill a role that seems oddly familiar.

[vintagebiker43]

Episcopalians on Facebook

Hayden Vaughn  

President Trump,

1. Much like those who do not want you to be president, you do not get to decide whether a bishop’s office is legitimate. She was chosen by the people of her diocese to be their bishop. Then, she was granted consent to be a bishop by other bishops and standing committees of our church’s dioceses. Beginning by calling her a “so-called” bishop is an obvious low blow to discredit her as a person, rather than what she actually said that you disagree with. The Episcopal Church was legitimate enough to hold your third wedding, the funeral of Melania’s mother, and the baptism of your son, Barron. Barron also attended an Episcopal day school. Now you have an issue with how we do things when it doesn’t go your way?

2. You didn’t have an issue with politics being brought into the church by the ministers who spoke at your inauguration, or by yourself for that matter. They were blatantly partisan, crediting God for your political success: “Mr. President, the last four years there were times I'm sure you thought it was pretty dark, but look what God has done," Graham said.

3. She wasn’t nasty in tone, plain and simple. I can’t remember ever hearing a homily given in such a gracious manner and calm tone. If you disagree, listen to her speak. You may disagree with what she said, but her tone was in no way “nasty.” Additionally, insulting her intelligence, rather than quoting what you disagreed with, is a very typical play coming from a narcissist.

4. The vast majority of people who have committed crimes in the U.S. are U.S. citizens. Defending yourself about being asked to have mercy on immigrants by saying a “large number of illegal migrants came into our country and killed people” is a gross misrepresentation and does not make sense. By that logic, we should be locking up or deporting all Americans because the majority of crimes were committed by citizens. We do need to improve our immigration system, but scripture commands us as Christians to have mercy. Mercy is a central tenet of our faith. Matthew 5:7 says “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Leviticus 19: 33-34 says, “When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God.” If you have a take issue with this, take it up with God.

5. Saying the service was boring and uninspiring is a move to discredit the event, rather than what specifically was said. However, it’s worth mentioning that the purpose of a service is not to be “exciting”. There are several purposes for our services, such as honoring God, bringing us closer to God, and being in community with one another. Being “exciting” is not one of them. As far as inspiration goes, that is in the eye of the beholder. You get as much out of it as you put into it.

6. The bishop does not owe you an apology. Our church does not owe you an apology. All you were asked to do is what scripture directly asks us to do. If you could quote one thing she asked of you that isn’t asked of us in scripture, we would apologize. Someone recently reminded me of something I often heard growing up in church. If you are offended by a minister’s sermon or feel that it was a personal attack, look to see if you can find anything they said that was out of line with scripture and the teachings of Jesus. If you can’t, that feeling is what we call, “being convicted of your sin”. The fact you are so offended by what was said shows you know there is truth in it. To your supporters who also feel offended by it, the same goes.

E dopo quel post Mariann Budde dovrà guardarsi le spalle in ogni minuto della sua vita pubblica. Soprattutto con i criminali dell'assalto al Campidoglio rimessi in libertà e desiderosi di vendetta.

[daydreamerdrew]

Comics read this past week:

Marvel Comics:

Black Widow (2016) #1-2

These issues were published across March 2016 to April 2016. They were written by Mark Waid and Chris Samnee, drawn by Chris Samnee, and colored by Matthew Wilson. Both were 20 pages.

I’ve actually already read this series before. It was one of the first Marvel comics I read when I was getting back into broader Marvel comics after getting into the Hulk served as a gateway. So this is the first Black Widow comic I ever read.

I remember not liking this series back then. I felt that very little happened in its 12 issues, and also the emotional climax with Bucky didn’t do anything for me as someone with no prior experience with that relationship.

I really enjoyed these first 2 issues and read them each twice. I can see where I was coming from in the story being slow-going. In the first issue Natasha steals something from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the entire issue is her process of escaping, with no context given to what she stole and why. But this time it worked for me. Chris Samnee’s work is really great and enjoyable to read, and the way characterization is reflected is how she fights is more apparent to me now, which made it more interesting.

Now that I have read a good amount of Natasha’s comics, I am invested in her character and the changing portrayal of her backstory. I’m not sure yet if the rest of the series and particularly the portrayal of the Red Room will work better for me now.

Captain Marvel (1968) #5

This issue was published in June 1968. It was written by Arnold Drake, penciled by Don Heck, and inked by John Tartaglione. They replaced the previous creative team of Roy Thomas, Gene Colan, and Vince Colletta. It was 20 pages.

In this issue Mar-Vell is accused “of the ultimate crime of being- un-Kree!” Roman the Accuser says of the trial, “we carefully weigh the fate of one who has served our cause in the past- and may in the future!” I thought it was interesting that the Kree would be so pragmatic even in regards to an accusation that’s so significant to them.

After it’s decided that a decision can’t be made at this time and Mar-Vell will be given the opportunity to “Go forth and prove to us that you are no traitor born,” and then will be judged on his future actions, Yon-Rogg thinks, “And still your star rises to threaten my own, Captain? But I swear you shall yet know an Earthen grave!”

The villain of the issue, the Metazoid, parallels Mar-Vell. His backstory is that he was an ordinary Soviet Union citizen, was convicted of “anti-state activities,” and then was offered “life- and honor” in exchange for being the subject of an experiment “to advance our space research” by making him able to “withstand the alien conditions of almost any planet!” No information is given to indicate whether the man who became the Metazoid really had committed anti-state activities. The experiment making the Metazoid so invincible contrasts to, as Una explained when defending him at his trial, how Mar-Vell “alone went forth to risk an alien atmosphere!- A world that would destroy him instantly, if he were unmasked!” And the villain’s backstory contrasts in that the experiment made the Metazoid look monstrous, so people don’t assume he’s a human being, whereas Mar-Vell is an alien but is easily accepted as a human being.

At the time the man who became Metazoid said, “I will do… anything you demand!” But in the present he thinks, “Here walks the most miserable of living beings! Neither man nor beast, I live only to do the bidding of those who have made me thus! For, once done, I am promised liberation from this ugly guise- and the return of my own face and form! But, is the evil I must now perform an honorable price for some selfish share of happiness?” This is reminiscent of Mar-Vell's conflict between his mission and his feelings about Earth. His mission is to observe Earth for his superiors, who will determine from his findings if the Earth is a potential threat to the Kree Empire that must be destroyed. While Mar-Vell is conflicted because he sometimes cares for human beings, he is not nearly as negative about his mission as the Metazoid is about his or the mere circumstance of having to follow orders. And Mar-Vell has not yet framed his continued obedience to immoral orders as dishonorable or selfish.

For example, in issue #4 Mar-Vell thought of the “mind-wrenching truth” of his reason for being on Earth and questioned, “But, why should the fate of one tiny world, out of all the infinite cosmos, plague me so? Am I not a man of the Kree? Have I not learned from birth that only my own far-distant galaxy matters? Perhaps I’ve been stricken by that strangest, most treacherous of emotions… that which Earthmen call… conscience! Always my beloved Una and I have felt that, in this, we differed from our fellow beings!” And back in issue #1 Una thought, of her inability to convince her fellow crewmates of Yon-Rogg’s corruption, to “overcome their years of training- training in the necessity of blind obedience to their leaders,” that “For some mysterious reason, Mar-Vell and I have always seemed different from the others of our race.” Yet, Mar-Vell and Una don’t frame them being different from the other Kree negatively, Mar-Vell has repeatedly reaffirmed his commitment to the Kree way.

Later in issue #4 Mar-Vell was ordered to ensure a germ bomb went off near New York City for an experiment “to gauge its susceptibility to germ warfare!” This is not what Mar-Vell wanted to do, but, “No matter what my personal feelings, I must overcome them! Above all else, I am a man of the Kree! And what my superiors command… Mar-Vell must perform,” and so “I have no choice but to follow Yon-Rogg’s orders- and see that within the hour, the germs are released- and millions of Earthmen perish!” In the end he prevented the bomb from going off, but only after he’d found a way to make it look like that wasn’t what he was trying to do, because “If Yon-Rogg is observing from afar, he must think I tried to obey orders!”

It stands out that the Metazoid’s goal is “liberation,” which would also mean losing his powers that make him useful for these types of missions. Whereas Mar-Vell is, at this point, primarily only trying to function within the Kree system without getting caught for acting un-Kree-like, with following his own personal moral instincts being less of a priority; as well trying to as survive Yon-Rogg’s attempts to get him indirectly killed, which Mar-Vell similarly can’t openly fight back against without committing treason. And it’s significant that the Metazoid’s salvation is in “the return of my own face and form,” meaning being human again, while Mar-Vell’s is really in him rejecting being what is considered a true Kree and leaving the Kree empire, though he hasn’t figured that out yet.

The Metazoid is tasked with capturing the Dr. Walter Lawson, and he thinks of this mission, “They have sworn Lawson will be treated well- not forced to work against his will- and that his efforts will only be used in the defense of our nation! But they have not fooled me with their empty vows! I have fooled myself! I chose to believe them! Because it makes it easier- easier to commit acts that I know are purest evil!” This contrasts to that Mar-Vell’s superiors have not tried to mislead him about what his mission is, and he is not nearly so disillusioned with the Kree Empire or critical of himself for following orders. His disillusionment is limited to his corrupt immediate superior officer, Yon-Rogg, who Mar-Vell knows has been trying to get him killed. Though it could that said that Mar-Vell has also “fooled” himself in how he’s repeatedly reminding himself of the insignificance of the Earth in order to justify his actions for his mission. His belief in the righteousness of the Kree is partially selfish is not wanting to deal with the consequences of being a traitor. And Mar-Vell is also said to have “a record of loyalty and resolve!” He is a respected captain and there’s nothing to indicate that he has had any qualms about any of his previous missions.

Also, at one point the Metazoid thinks, “My form has changed again- even more hideously! The changes are now totally beyond my control!” This made me think of the monitor that was implanted in Mar-Vell’s wrist in the Captain Marvel story in Marvel Super-Heroes (1967) #12, which was also beyond his control and similarily motivates him. The wrist monitor can be used to monitor him, so he never knows when he is and isn’t being observed, and with it he also “can be contacted anywhere- any time- so long as I live!” And, “Once it is fastened, only the Colonel can have it removed,” so to him “This means I can never be free!”

Ultimately the Metazoid has the opportunity to kill Mar-Vell during their fight but hesitates, thinking, “would not that rob me of my final spark of humanity?” And, “Must I end another human life- merely to save my own?” He decides, “No! I am still more man than beast!” He narrates his actions as, “I twisted my body beneath just before the crash, to absorb the impact- so he only was stunned! Perhaps this small good that I have done will outweigh the evil that I must yet perform- the abduction of the scientist- so that I may trade his soul for my own!”

Mar-Vell wonders if that move by the Metazoid was intentional, but then dismisses the question, thinking, “I must clear my head of sophomoric sentiment!” He attacks again, and finds the Metazoid dead afterwards, though, “I didn’t intend to kill it- only to defeat it!” He then wonders if “it, like Captain Mar-Vell, was on some grim and ghastly mission at which its soul rebelled?” And, “Was it… or he… a mere pawn in some larger, deadlier game- a victim of men more ruthless but less courageous than he?” I really like this theme in this series about being in the military. But then Mar-Vell dismissive again, thinking, “Forget such things, man of the Kree! They will not accomplish your mission!” And he ends the issue declaring, “Will you let a few brief moments with your feet upon the soil of an alien world rob you of your proud identity? You are a man of the Kree! And that- you must never forget!”

Early on in the issue there was narration describing Mar-Vell as being “alone and unwanted” on Earth and states that, though he has “every protective device of the supreme science and technology of the Kree,” “nothing can protect him from the carbon wheel of loneliness that may grind even a steely Kree soul into dryest dust!” I think that, rather than being apart from the Kree allowing Mar-Vell’s worldview to significantly change, his loneliness is making his identification with the Kree empire even more important to him. And I think the fact that he can be monitored at any time, so he can’t ever act as though he’s free of his superiors’ control, makes it feel as though the Kree empire is still with him, and is also contributing to Mar-Vell’s time on Earth only minorly de-radicalizing him.

Interestingly, the narration at the end goes the opposite direction from what I would have expected, saying, “No, Mar-Vell, you cannot cast aside your heritage! The blood that binds you to the mighty Kree must forever dictate your true allegiance! Beware this rising tide of understanding and sympathy for your enemy-by-edict! For, in those surging waters, you yourself may well be drowned-!!”

This issue also had a theme of evolution. In this issue Mar-Vell indirectly criticizes humanity in how he emphasizes the importance of being Kree and his pride in it, and he refers to the Earth as a “strange, primitive planet” In the Captain Marvel story in Marvel Super-Heroes (1967) #13 he said, “The Earthmen are light-years behind us… in virtually all vital aspects of missile research! But, they are still fledglings in matters relating to space flight… and, so rapid is their rate of technological progress… that they may one day challenge the Kree themselves… if they are not stopped!” And in this story he remarks on “What base irony” it is “To be assigned to subvert the growing military and scientific power of an advanced people” only to end up fighting “a monstrous brute that has barely stepped from the dark cave evolution!” So humans have potential but are primitive, but are advanced in the context of the Metazoid. Yet it is the Metazoid, and not Mar-Vell, that ends up doing the right thing in following his conscience and not killing his opponent. And while, as I said above, Mar-Vell thought negatively of the human trait of having a conscience in issue #4, having morals is often what is thought of as separating humans from our primitive predecessors.

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

Butch’s attention snaps towards the stairs the moment footsteps come booming up them and before they know it, an angry woman he can only assume is the owner of the establishment or something akin to that threatens them with the authorities. Oh yeah, right. He had technically just committed a crime, hadn’t he? But wait! That fella committed a crime too! Before Butch—the cowboy would even go so far as to say he deserved it and he opens his mouth to speak up but before he can contest, he feels the redheads hand clap upon his shoulder before he clumsily climbs to his feet.

Surprisingly, Jonas is the one to speak up, and Butch watches, completely caught off guard yet again as the redhead defends him. His words may have been all over the place but at the core of it all, Butch can tell the other is defending his honor and their safety. He’s ranting but there’s such passion in how he delivers each of his words that Butch can’t help but recall an old saying. What was it—? A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts? Yeah, that’s it!

Jonas isn’t shy about calling that prick out on his bullshit, he makes it known that his actions weren’t okay, and that they hadn’t been for a long time. It sounded to him like poor Jonas had been holding this in for a while and he relishes the pleasant swelling of pride within him as he lets loose. This lady wasn’t exactly deserving of a verbal thrashing but hey, she had asked what happened, hadn’t she?

Butch’s face goes red as Jonas tumbles off topic and onto the topic of him and how heroic he had been. It was awful sweet of him to even bring him into the conversation and he has a feeling that the alcohol is partially responsible for derailing his point entirely. Even so, he’s not bothered in the slightest—quite the opposite actually! He’s incredibly flattered, watching Jonas with a crooked smile, and his stomach flutters a bit just before Jonas is interrupted by the woman before he goes a little too far.

The woman threatens them but Butch can tell there’s a silent understanding on her part judging by the time she’s giving them to skedaddle. She didn’t have to tell them twice! She stomps off and Butch quickly climbs to his feet, hand rubbing at his throat where he’d been rushed into the wall earlier. Jonas apologizes after a moment and the cowboy scoffs.

“Jonas, y’didn’t do shit but knock that fucker on ‘is ass like he d’served.” He says rather bluntly, a hand coming to giving one of Jonas’s arms near his shoulder a squeeze. “An’ y’didn’t ruin my night at all. M’always achin’ fer a good ol’ fashion tussle!” he laughs a little, trying to lighten the mood. He moves closer and his arm drapes around Jonas’s shoulders comfortingly.

After a moment, his bright expression falls. “I’m… jus’ sorry that happened t’ya, here’f all places. What a good fer nothin’ snake that fella is.” He should have killed him. He should have killed him. He should have killed him.

“B-But, yer fine! An’… don’ worry. I won’t let nothin’ like that happen t’ya ever again, l’right? I—… I know what it feels like. Bein’ alone while it happens don’t help.” He admits with a stoic expression, his tone far more serious than before. He doesn’t go into detail. “…Now, let’s get on outta here b’fore th’ coppers try t’ spin this story diff’rent!” He suggests, his demeanor changing into a more chipper one almost instantly.

Just going to bury those thoughts!

Jonas blinked slowly. He was dimly aware of Butch talking, saying something to him but why did he sound so goddamn far away...

Then he felt Butch's hand on his shoulder rubbing it and Butch's face came into his vision, blue eyes carefully searching him over, both hands on his shoulder and his mouth moving as he talked away. Oh. Oh there he was. He was...what was he saying? His brown eyes slowly looked down at Butch's mouth, his brow furrowing a bit as he tried to focus on the cowboy, picking through the words jumbling around in his brain.

Butch's beautiful strong hands cupped his face suddenly and his focus was lost again. He leaned into his touch instead, his abused mouth opening slightly as Butch's thumb touched his lips ever so gently, wiping away the blood. He felt his heart thudding so strongly in his chest it physically hurt.

He closed his eyes briefly as Butch pressed the bandanna to his mouth.

Far below them, there was quite a bit of activity going on, between some of the patrons trying to assess the damage done to Cooper and others just milling around. Conversation floated up the stairs and then a tall tattooed woman who had the look of 'furious manager' written all over her stormed up the stairs, stopping in front of the two of them with anger reddening her face.

" You fuckers wanna explain yourselves before I call the police on your asses? " she ground out between her teeth. She gestured down the stairs and turned back to them, placing her hands on her hips. " What the FUCK went on up here? "

Jonas's eyes snapped open at her words. He looked up at her, over at Butch and suddenly it was as if a dam had been breached, such was the rush of emotions that came over him.

" Hold on...Butch..." He placed his hand on Butch's shoulder and staggered to his feet once more to face the woman. He took a deep breath.

" This-this fucking beautiful cowboy saved my goddamn life, lady, " he croaked out and once he started talking he found he couldn't stop. " Do you know I-I brought him here 'cause he's such a fucking treasure of a man and deserved a nice fun night out and-and I WANTED to give him that ok but-but then that...abusive asshole of an ex of mine down there with his burnt-ass face who's been f-fucking stalking my ass...and-and do you think the police would give an honest shit about that they SURE fuckin' haven't before and-and he basically curbstomped this nice evening into the dirt and fuckin' threatened me if I didn't come up h-here later. I didn't want to I didn't want to, I'm s-sorry Butch..."

His white-rimmed eyes turned briefly towards the cowboy and then back to the woman as he rambled on, " But I KNEW that shithead I knew how h-he'd try hurtin' Butch in retaliation or some shit and-and I thought-I though m-maybe if-if he hurt me an' got what he wanted he'd at l-least leave Butch out of it but then we were dancing-me and Butch not the shithead and-and then we kissed and it was such a goddamn amazin' good kiss too I love kissing this cowboy, Butch, you're such a fuckin' good kisser ok? but then I had to leave but I was gonna-gonna tell Cooper to piss off and he-then he-I dunno uh the fucker bit my lip...not Butch he's the one I kissed did-did I say what a smokin' hot kisser he is ok maybe I did but-but anyways and then Butch comes in like the-the fuckin' goddam amazing wonderful hero cowboy he is just-bam!- busts the d-door down and I dunno I don't-ugh-I don't remember too good I just know there was fighting I couldn't do shit I mean ahaha fuckin' look at me? That shithead d-down there was gonna break me in half and I dunno there was fire-there was fire? There was? "

Again he looked over at Butch in utter bewilderment and then babbled on, " There was fire and-and he just...whiff! lassoed th' bastard that was so fuckin' awesome and I dunno but he-he's not th' one to blame ok, he's the fuckin' HERO here the goddamn uhhhh...ridin' in on a white horse or some shit do you realize-goddamn this man, this beautiful man I am s-so fuckin' grateful I-I would do so-so many things for this handsome fuckin' cowboy right now goddamn do you have any idea I-I'd grab his h-hand right th' fuck now take him back in-into one of these rooms an'.."

" Ok ok. I get it you don't have to say anything else, " the manager interjected quickly before Jonas got much further on that thought. She gave Jonas a critical look and then glanced over at Butch with a hard frown on her face.

" You and your little boyfriend here got ten seconds to clear out of my bar and then I'm calling an ambulance and the police. But if you're quick enough I ain't gonna see you go and I don't know who you are either, ok? Also ya'll ain't welcome back. Don't want my place going up like a bonfire..." she grunted at Butch before she turned around and left them both.

" I r-really fucked our evening up, I'm sorry Butch... " Jonas mumbled after a moment's silence.

[hcrexcellency]

Joanna -> Mars, Uranus

MARS

is   your   muse   subtle   when   it   comes   to   things   they   want   ?   

Not even in the slightest. If she shows any kind of discretion about anything that goes on inside her head, it's probably because she is still making decisions. But once she knows exactly what she wants, she pursues it relentlessly.

are   they   passionate   about   the   things   they   do,   so   much   so   it   could   come   off   as   aggressive   ?   perhaps   obsessive   ?   

It is not secret throughout all of Europe, by now, that Joanna's soul is bathed in fire and passion. Aggression ( though she would call it pride ) is the hallmark of what makes her so memorable ( either for good or bad reasons ). She would not call it obsession, though many others would.

what   gives   your   muse   passion   ?   what   makes   them   competitive,   what  gives   them   courage   ?   how   do   they   express   these,   by   words   ?   actions   ?

Independence and adventure gives her passion. Anything that breaks the rules and allows her to feel more free to make choices solely on her own merit and not because of what law and duty say, those are the things that really give her passion and drive. Anyone who tries to outshine or snuff out her fire makes her competitive. She has a natural courage about her, something she's always had since she was a little girl. She is the most expressive of her passions, how she chooses to express them depends on the moment.

 what   is   your   muses   sexual   energy   like   ?   are   they   a   sexual   person   ? 

Undoubtedly, yes. Her sexual energy is not unlike her true nature; ferocious and raw, yet tenacious and passionate. Tapping into that is one of the easiest ways to rebel, as it gives her the perfect excuse to give in to this type of vice. There is also something so sinfully sweet about being primally desired, a want that is free of thought and process, that simply just is. Especially when it's from someone she cares deeply for, she can become addicted to that mutual desire.

URANUS

this   particular   planet   is   the   planet   of   sudden   inspiration   and   change,   so   how   does   your   muse   handle   unpredictable   changes   ?   how   do   they   handle   planned   and   known   changes   ? 

Quite chaotically, actually. This is why even her own sisters tend to keep secrets from her, because there's no telling what kind of strife her reactions could cause. When it comes to planned changes, she throws a bit of a temper tantrum at first, but she will eventually settle with enough time to process and adjust.

what   about   inspiration   ?   do   they   do   whatever   inspires   them   in   that   moment,   or   is   their   inspiration   something   that   takes   time   to   develop   and   build   ? 

She heavily motivated and inspired by the same things; influence, attention, love, or greed. She can always pick herself back up off the ground for at least one of those four things.

what   makes   your   muse   special   ?   what   makes   them   different   and   eccentric,   if   they   are   ?   where   do   they   create   the   most   change   ? 

Joanna is special for somehow being likable despite her intense pride and stubbornness. When she hand-picks which people she'd like to keep, she is the most loyal friend and will even commit crimes for those she especially cares deeply about. She would fight for anyone on their behalf and defend them until the end of time. What she does, she does with honor and truth, even if it comes off terrifying and/or annoying.

[pupvivi]

favourite things about vivi?

Her personality.

Her selflessness.

The way she interacts with everyone in a nurturing way. The way that when asked questions that would seemingly downplay where Loona shines, she never focuses on the negative, but instead how they can improve collectively.

There's also the way she smiles when listening to her other members. She's so focused on their words, nodding along, and when they get emotional she's so supportive of them. Rubbing their back, or patting their head. Never doing more than she needs to, but also goes above and beyond to be a supportive pillar for Loona.

She's so sweet as well. Like her voice is like honey, her voice? Amazing, I really wish people would stop discrediting her ability to sing. She debuted before members who were trainees longer than her and shorter than her. She likes 2nd Gen groups like 2NE1, and recently fangirled on FAB about it and it was cute to see.

She blushes when asked to do cute stuff, even though it suits her. Her being labeled Matnae is very funny to me, because yeah she's THE UNNIE but she knows how to play up to her cute strengths very well.

She leaned a language and debuted in a country she's only visited what? One or two times before becoming full time to being an idol. She doesn't get to visit home, and has lamented about not being there to see her brothers grow up, but she also gets to see fans from home telling her they're proud of her, and that she's inspires other foreign idols to also debut (See the video for context)

There's honestly so much to love about her, but I don't wanna start crying while typing this so I'll just link some more stuff haha

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Also I'm so sorry if you were just expecting to say something about her fat ass, like yeah she's my bias first.

[cleoluvrr]

The Last Days of Summer VI (Rafe Cameron x Heyward!OC)

Warnings: violence, underage drinking, drug use, verbal abuse, jealousy, forbidden relationship, enemies to lovers, gaslighting + manipulation

Synopsis: Stuck in a situation she never dreamed of, Neriah Heyward blurs the line between Kook and Pogue; Rafe Cameron a witness.

masterlist

word count: 4.8k+

↠━ღ◆ღ━↞

Rafe ditched me sometime that night, leaving the party to run off with Kelce and Topper.

I didn’t complain, actually very relieved that I didn’t have to pretend in front of his family, nor keep my head on a swivel to make sure he didn’t catch me alone again. Londyn and I left eventually as well, opting to go back to her house for the night. We were beat, the long day leaving us essentially useless. We fell asleep almost immediately after arriving, barely staying awake long enough to get ready for bed.

His sudden confession filled my mind for the rest of the night, brain struggling to understand where any of it came from. How did he know all of those things about me? Why did he wait so long to say anything? Why did he think I would suddenly fall into his arms and accept his so gracefully?

I left early the next morning, my father calling me home as some sort of punishment for my brother running off last night. I didn’t argue with him, bidding my farewells to the Woods’ before getting in the car Londyn’s mom ordered for me.

I didn’t get a moment to myself when I stepped foot into the shop. My father immediately sent me to work, ordering me to deliver groceries to people in town. I rode around Kildare on my dad’s boat with everyone’s orders, the deliveries were seemingly endless. Eventually I arrive at Kie’s parent’s restaurant, The Wreck.

I hop out of the boat with groceries in hand, dragging my feet towards the entrance. I enter the shop, tempted to just leave the groceries by the door and leave, and spot my brother and his friends gathered at a table nearby.

“And where the hell did you go last night?” I say, grabbing everyone’s attention. “I had to face the wrath of our dear father this morning, no thanks to you.” I cut my eyes at JJ as well, who sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“You don’t get to be mad at me, Riah.” Pope rolls his eyes at me. “You went to that thing with Rafe Cameron. If anything I should be the pissed one here. Matter of fact, I think I am.”

“I’m so sorry that you have no idea how to fight back against some bullies, and your sister had to step in to save your weak behind. Twice.” I set the groceries down on the counter before walking over to the table, crossing my arms across my chest as I stand in front of my body.

“I didn’t ask your dumb ass to do that. Now we’re both in deep shit.” He says. I scoff.

“I’m sorry that I risked everything I’ve worked for to defend your honor.” I continued. “I had absolutely no idea that almost sacrificing my scholarship and risking jail time was not worth defending your ungrateful ass. I’m sorry that you have a poor choice in friends that just can’t seem to stop committing crimes.”

“Don’t talk about them like they’re not there.” Pope says, actually looking up at me now. He looks more than a little irritated, his jaw clenching as he speaks. “Do you think you’re better than me because you hang out with Kooks?”

“No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” I laugh dryly. “I just think you’re an idiot because you destroyed a thirty-thousand-dollar piece of property, no thanks to JJ once again, had some white boys posted outside of our house trying to intimidate us, and almost got arrested. You’re lucky JJ is a good friend or else your ass would be fried.”

“Thanks?” JJ says, not sure if I was giving him a compliment or insulting him.

“Didn’t you beat Rafe Cameron with a golf club? How is that any better than what I did?” He stands up, getting in my face.

“Because I’m not the one running around Kildare getting into bullshit everyday! That’s you!” I shout, shoving at his chest. Kiara moves to get in between us, but Pope doesn’t move. He just stares back at me just as angrily as I do him.

“Okay, I think you need to chill.” John B says to me.

“Shut up, John B.” Pope and I say in unison. The boy raises his hands in defense.

“Clearly none of you are talking sense into him, so I guess I have to.” I look around at the rest of the group, all of them avoiding eye contact with me. 

“I make my own decisions, Neriah.” Pope mumbles, sitting back down in his chair.

“Well they aren’t smart ones.” I knock Kie’s hand off my shoulder. “There are people that care about you, Pope. More than the people in this room and you seem to forget that. Or maybe you just don’t give a damn.”

With that I walk away, making my way towards the door. The restaurant is silent for a moment, everyone taking in what I just said.

“We care about him just as much as you do.” JJ says, briskly walking up to me before I can get to the door. I chuckle humorlessly, giving the blonde a tight-lipped smile.

“Then act like it.” I say, pushing the heavy door open. His eyes shift down to my neck, widening slightly as they catch mine again.

“What happened to your neck?” He inquires, voice low enough for only me to hear. He reaches up to touch it but I push his hand away, zipping up my jacket all the way and ignoring his concerned eyes.

“See you at home. Or not.” I give my brother a final glance before turning away.

With that, I exit the shop and go back to our dad’s boat. I drive down the marsh, not looking back at the building despite feeling all of their eyes on me.

Pope never came home that night.

My parents waited for him for a while, but they went to bed sometime after one in the morning. I went to bed as well, knowing better than to expect anything different from my brother. He still wasn’t there in the morning when I woke up, the sun high in the sky and no Pope in sight.

Londyn and I decided to waste the day together, meeting Brye on the way. The two of them could sense my poor mood the minute they set eyes on me. The entire time they tried to cheer me up. After an hour of gossip and cracking bad jokes I’d finally had enough.

“You guys know better than to think telling terrible jokes is going to make me feel any better.” I finally speak after spending the past hour moping to myself in silence.

“We knew that at some point you’d get annoyed enough to finally say something. Which you did!” Brye says, nudging me obnoxiously. I roll my eyes, standing up from my seat.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” I mumble as I walk away.

I wash my hands in the bathroom, watching myself in the mirror above the sink. The bruise on my neck has only gotten worse, the dark purple splotches peeking out of the top of my shirt. I’m visibly tense, my eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched unconsciously. My teeth have started to ache from the unintentional grinding. 

I shut off the water, gripping the sides of the sink as I take a deep breath. 

My brother and I each have our own lives. Very opposite lives. He would never do the things I do and I would never do the things I do. He’d sooner walk barefoot across broken glass before hanging out on Figure 8 willingly to be quite frank, which I understand. But sometimes I wish he would be more responsible. He actually has a future off of this island, but he never thinks of how easily that opportunity could be lost.

I have nothing again against his friends. I think Kie so desperately wants to defy her parents in any way she can, John B has a lack of true authority figures to guide him, and JJ is a klepto with a penchant for violence and alcohol. But that doesn’t make them bad people. They’re always there for my brother, they’d do anything for them, and I could ask for nothing more.

Except for them to make sure he doesn’t do the same stupid shit they do.

I sigh deeply, stepping out of the bathroom after drying my hands. I keep my head down as I walk, mind busy with things I need to say to Pope the next time I see him. I almost don’t hear the person calling for my attention.

“Excuse me. Excuse me, girl!” An older white woman dressed rather tackily calls out. I look around, wondering who she’s speaking to and furrow my eyebrows in confusion when she waves me over. “God, are you people deaf or something?” She says annoyedly, looking me up and down.

“Excuse me?” I ask, puzzled.

“Refill my drink. And make sure it’s light ice this time.” She shoves her empty glass towards me. When I don’t take it she looks at me expectantly. “Hello? Can you hear me? I said to get me a drink.”

“I don’t work here.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” She looks me up and down in disgust. “I didn’t know they let your kind of people into the club.” The other women she’s seated with giggle, each of them picking me apart with their eyes.

“What do you mean by that?” Feeling quite offended, I scrunch my face up at her. “Actually, I don’t care.”

“Did you sneak in here? Do I need to call security?” She says, smirking as she prepares to wave the guard over.

“She’s with me.” A familiar voice sounds out, footsteps approaching behind me. “Is there a problem, Carolyn?”

“Oh!” She says, dropping her hand back into her lap with a nervous smile. “Of course not. I just-”

“You ladies have a good day.” The voice says before placing a warm hand on my back and leading me away.

As soon as we’re out of the women’s line of vision I shove the hand off me, backing away quickly. I shiver at the way Rafe looks at me, the view of him genuinely smiling at me making me feel uneasy. It seems like I run into him more and more as the days go by.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“You're welcome.”

“I didn’t need your help.” I cross my arms, pushing past him to go meet my friends again.

“It looked like you were about to be removed from the property to me.” Rafe says condescendingly. 

“Maybe all the coke is affecting your vision too.” Before I can make it very far, the Cameron son grabs my bicep and pulls me back to him. I try to snatch my arm away, but he doesn’t loosen up. “Don’t touch me.”

“Y’know, you really should be more grateful.” He looks down at me, still holding my arm in his grip. “You would be in a very bad position without me.” I scoff.

“I’m already in a bad position.” Roughly pulling myself away from him, I squint my eyes at him. “Leave me the hell alone, Rafe. I’ve already done what you wanted, and whatever you want to happen between us is not happening.”

“I don’t know…” He hums, tilting his head. “My side hurts a bit. My leg too. Maybe you can kiss it better for me?” He walks towards me, pretending to limp. I shove him away from me and he laughs.

“Fuck off, Rafe. I’m not in the mood for you today.” His laughter dies down slowly, eyes falling below my jawline. The feeling of his heated stare on me all of sudden has me shifting from foot to foot nervously. 

“Did I do that to you?” He asks, eyes still fixed on the large, finger shaped splotches of purple decorating my neck. I pull up the collar of my shirt in an attempt to cover my exposed skin. “Don’t cover it. I want to look.”

“Rafe. Do not piss me off right now.”

“I’m being serious.” He steps forward, reaching to lower my hand. “They look pretty on you.” I scoff, swiping his outreached hand away.

“You’re a dick.” I say as I storm away from him, hearing his laughter and feeling his gaze on my back as I retreat.

I make it to my friends after a short walk, ignoring their questions about what took me so long. We sat in the sun for a bit longer, drinking lemonade and talking about how sad we are about the summer coming to an end soon. 

I watch Rafe in the distance, talking with Topper and Kelce. Topper looks quite distressed, arguing with his two friends for a moment while they try to calm him down. I haven’t seen him with Sarah since Midsummers, and even then they looked a bit distant. At least Sarah did. I wonder if that’s what has him so upset.

“Rafe Cameron!” A voice calls out.

We all snap our head in the direction of the sound. I spot a shorter man get out of a car and walk towards the gate very menacingly. I watch as Rafe and Topper approach him, the younger confused as the man confronts Rafe very aggressively. 

“Who did he piss off this time?” Brye asks, watching the ordeal disinterestedly. 

“Who hasn’t he pissed off?” Londyn adds, causing me to throw my head back in laughter.

“Am I just some little bitch?” The shorter man asks rather loudly. “Is that what your family looks at me like?”

Rafe tries to calm him down, looking around at the crowd that’s started to gather. He looks just as confused as the rest of us, as if he has no idea why the man he seems to be quite familiar with has shown up to confront him.

“Okay, so why is your little sister and her little surf rat friends running around stealing $25k out of my house?”

Sarah? Surf rat friends? Stealing?

Sarah Cameron wouldn’t pick a penny off the ground for good luck, what the hell does he mean she stole twenty-five-thousand dollars from him? Sarah Cameron has more money than anyone on this island. And what Pogues are running around with the Kook princess? The only Pogues Sarah has ever spoken to willingly are me and John B.

John B. Surf rat friends. Pogues. John B. Sarah. John B.

Shit.

The confrontation turns violent when Rafe puts a hand on the man’s shoulder. The man shoves him roughly, yelling something that I can’t make out. Topper steps in and breaks up the altercation, separating the two.

“Sort this shit out with your sister.” The brunette man says.

“Alright!” Rafe says panickedly.

“Imma get my money. If it’s not from you, it’s from her.” The man backs off, walking towards his car. “Remember that. I’ll see you boys around.”

Rafe and Topper talk for a minute, the two of them looking equally as stressed out. Everyone else has stopped watching, including my friends who have gone back to their previous conversation, but I keep my eyes on the two. Eventually the boys get on their bikes, pulling off quickly as their engines rev all the way down the street.

How deep are Pope Heyward and his friends?

“You stole twenty-five-thousand dollars from a drug dealer…and spent it all on a hot tub?” I yell angrily. “Have you lost your minds?”

“To be fair, it’s a nice hot tub.” JJ says. I look at him incredulously. 

I came to JJ’s house the next day to find my brother and confront him about the things I overheard the day before. I nearly passed out when I saw the large jacuzzi sitting in JJ’s front yard, knowing that only he’d be irresponsible enough to buy something like that with stolen drug money.

“How did you even find out?” Pope asks.

“He was yelling at Rafe about how his baby sister was running around with some Pogues robbing people.” Pope looks even more confused, jumping out of his chair before coming up to me in the middle of the yard.

“You were hanging out with Rafe Cameron?” I scoff in disbelief at his audacity to be upset with me.

“No, I wasn’t hanging out with him, and even if I was, that’s not the point.” I push past him to go stand on JJ’s porch next to Kiara. She looks at me sheepishly and scratches her head. “There is a man out there, multiple men, that want your heads.”

“Neriah, don’t worry. We got this.” JJ says walking up to me. He tries setting a comforting hand on my shoulder but freezes midair when I give him a deathly look. He backs off with his hands raised, going back to what he was doing before.

I spent a while at his house, stressfully thinking about the trouble my brother can’t seem to stay out of. The rest of them return to whatever it was they were doing before I arrived. I watch as Pope lifts Kie into a tree with a large bucket, and JJ sits in the hot tub under the shade of the tree. I have multiple missed calls from Rafe, surely about my brother and his friends running around with Sarah.

I’m so deep in my thoughts that I almost don’t notice John B. The boy speeds past me into JJ’s house, the rest of the group following after him. I don’t go in, letting them handle whatever his problem is on his own. 

I hear stuff clattering around and muffled voices through the door, but I pay it no mind.

“John B, what do you need the gun for?” I hear JJ raise his voice. I stand up immediately, entering the house.

I briefly see the brunette push my brother into the table, walking so fast out the door that I almost miss him. I follow everyone out the house, watching as they chase him down. He speeds off on his bike, disappearing down the dirt road. I don’t ask them what’s going on, this being something that must be deeply personal.

I leave shortly after that, the atmosphere far too tense for me to feel comfortable there. 

I return home, locking myself up in my room for the rest of the day. I only come out to shower and grab food, leaving my parents to wallow in their misery alone. Pope hadn’t been home in three days, and while I’m used to it, I don’t think my parents ever stop worrying. I hope he’s smart enough to come home tonight considering he has a once in a lifetime scholarship interview in five hours.

My hopes come true when I hear the front door open.

“You waited up.” Pope says to my father. The man had been sleeping in the living room since the night his son left, waiting for his return.

“You left?” Heyward asks. “Because I hadn’t noticed.”

The air is silent for a moment, tension replacing the sound of voices. I turn over in bed, slipping on my earbuds to drown out the sound of a lecture. I watch my bedroom door open slowly after a few minutes, behind it a tired looking Pope.

We look at each other for a moment, neither of us saying a word. He looks down at the floor before backing out of my room and closing the door behind him.

“Goodnight.” I whisper into the darkness of my room.

My dad and brother leave together early in the morning, away to Pope’s interview before I’m awake to see them off. Our dad wouldn’t be back until later, saying that he had to handle some business at the airstrip for the Cameron’s.

Pope didn’t come back that night either.

I spent half of the next day roaming around the south side, something I hadn’t done in a while. It was very comforting to know that I wasn’t an outlier here. Nobody thought less of me because of how much money I did or didn’t have, I was just another person here.

It also distracted me from my parents slowly going insane from Pope’s blatant disrespect and irresponsibility.

The house felt stuffier than the sticky, summer air outside sometimes, the wedge between my brother and our parents growing larger as the days go by.

As I peruse around midtown I people watch, residents running errands and tourists looking around like this is the most interesting place they’ve ever been. I end up near the dock, the ferry bobbing in the water next to the wooden deck. Everyone buzzes around, colorful clothes a blur in front of me as I watch mindlessly.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot a familiar car. I turn towards the car, squinting at the vehicle parked across the street. 

My eyes widen when I spot the people inside. 

I storm towards the car, everyone inside distracted with a heated conversation. 

“Pope. Heyward.” I say when I reach the open driver's side window, my voice dangerously calm.

Everyone’s head snaps towards me as the words leave my mouth. Pope runs his hands over his face, looking even more stressed than he did a moment ago. Everyone looks scared and anxious, tension in the car high.

“Hey, Riah…do you think you can save the lecture for another day?” JJ says, leaning out of his window to speak to me. “We really don’t have time for this.”

“Kiss my ass.” I cut my eyes at JJ wh retreats back into the car. 

“Neriah, we really don’t have time. Seriously.” Pope sighs, looking at me irritably. 

“Oh, you wanna talk about time? We can talk about time.” I smile at him tensely. “You know what I spent my time doing last night? Convincing our father not to throw your shit out on the street. I should’ve let him do it considering that’s where you’d rather be nowadays.”

“Neriah, please.” Kie says, looking out the window anxiously. 

“Shut the fuck up. I’m talking.” I snap.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Pope snaps as well, hitting his hands on the steering wheel. “What is your problem?”

“Not only did you vanish, again, you ran out on a once in a lifetime opportunity. To do what? Hang out in your friend's car smelling like dope?” I ask motioning at the car. “You have officially lost your rabid ass mind.”

Pope snatches a piece of paper out of Kiara’s hand and shoves it at me, the wrinkled paper hitting me in the chest. I snatch it away, smoothing it out before reading it.

My eyes widen, eyes raising to finally see John B hiding in the backseat next to JJ.

“This! This is why I’m with my friends right now!” Pope shouts at me. I stare at the picture of John B’s face and the bounty over his head in shock.

“Not only are you majorly irresponsible, you're harboring a fugitive?” I whisper the last part, not wanting anyone around to hear. “I should turn your ass in. Maybe then my brother will stop roaming the streets like he doesn’t have a home.” I say to John B.

“God, Neriah. You just don’t get it, do you?” My brother’s voice drips in frustration directed at me. I sigh, throwing the paper back into the car.

“No, I get it.” I back away from the car. “I’ll be sure to tell mom you aren’t dead. Now go, before somebody recognizes you. Fucking idiots…” I mumble as I briskly walk away from the car, silently praying that they come up with something.

[dramatic-squirrel]

Daminette December Day 29- Membership

@maribat-calendar-events

Stars lit up the window, creating a view like none other but, more eye catching than any other star, was the sight of Earth, floating there in all of its various hues of blue, green and brown. It was so gorgeous that Ladybug zoned out of the conversation as she thought of how to best depict the colors of Earth in an outfit. 

“-bug. Ladybug!” Superman’s voice finally brought her out of her trance.

She jumped slightly before responding. “Yes! Sorry, what is it?” 

Superman gave a little chuckle because all new timers were like that at first. “We were just saying congratulations on becoming a member of the Justice League.” He expected awe, happiness, maybe even a little shock. What stared back at him was none of those emotions.

“What?” Her head tilted to the side as she tried to understand what was going on. “Why am I being inducted into the Justice League?”

Superman looked at Wonder Woman. This wasn’t something that happened often and he wasn’t sure what to do. Knowing distress when she sees it Wonder Woman stepped in to explain. “Because of your valor, sharp wit, selflessness, and abilities, the core members have decided to offer you membership into the league. Be honored Little Ladybug,” she placed a hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “You’ll stand amongst the greatest warriors of Earth in order to defend it.”

Ladybug stepped away from the duo before trying to ease the tension gathering on her forehead. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Did none of you talk to Batman or Robin before deciding this? I thought I made my stance on this very clear to them.”

“They’re dealing with a lot of Rogue problems in Gotham right now, so we excused Batman and his team from any decision making for the time being.” Superman explained. “Why, what’s the issue?”

“I’m not joining the league, now or ever.” This time it was the two of them who were confused. “First of all, I just entered college and the league is a full-time commitment I do not have the energy or time for. And secondly,” she held up her hand when Superman was about to protest. “The miraculouses are not meant to be governed by an external force.”

“What do you mean, Ladybug?” Wonder Woman questioned.

“I mean, that I can’t work under someone, when I have to take responsibility as the guardian of the miraculouses. If I join the JL, there will be the expectation that the Justice League has control over the miraculouses, who wields them, where they are stored and so forth. Not only is that a ridiculous amount of power, all controlled by one group, but you all have no clue how to properly deal with the miraculouses.”

“That's a big assumption on your part, Ladybug. We can give you full autonomy over the miraculouses as that is your duty. Joining the League will give you greater access to resources to help you solve crime.”

She shook her head again. “I’m willing to be allies, but how will the rest of the world react to you gaining such powerful magic? The world needs to understand that if the Justice League is compromised, I can step in to save people. Batman agrees with me on this.”

Superman sighed as Batman once again made his way into another failsafe against the League. “Well, we can’t force you. But I thought you would have been happy, being in the League with your fiance.”

“Please. We see enough of each other already. If I had to fight crime with him too, on a regular basis, I think we’d get sick of each other.” Wonder Woman and Superman shared a look, was she dense or simply too close to see how much Robin actually cared?

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 21 - ao3 -

When he woke, Lan Qiren expected to find everyone talking about what had happened.

He might have even preferred that, despite the cost it would undoubtedly do to his personal reputation; instead, he found that the entire incident had been largely covered up, with even Lan Yueheng uncertain as to what had caused Lan Qiren’s injury other than that it involved some sort of dispute with his brother. That a mangled version of the story had not spread was as sure a sign as anything that He Kexin, whatever her faults or reckless willingness to act on assumptions with little base in reality, had in fact explained what had really happened, and that his brother had decided that he wouldn’t permit her reputation to be tainted by her actions.

Anyone might have expected the honorable Qingheng-jun to have apologized to Lan Qiren at that point for his own reckless assumptions, but his brother had not. On the contrary, he had left orders for Lan Qiren to be punished for breaching the rules of hospitality in striking an honored guest, and for violating several other rules not publicly specified. 

Lan Qiren could imagine which ones his brother had in mind.

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Lan Qiren said to his teachers, blankly staring down at the punishment order, written in his brother’s hand. He hadn’t even been given the courtesy of being told about it to his face, as anyone might have expected, nor allowed the opportunity to defend or justify himself; he had been summarily sentenced in a note. “I really didn’t.”

His music teacher and his swordsmanship teacher both looked uncomfortable and awkward, each one clearly aware of the breach of protocol taking place – and, given their position as sect elders and honored teachers, very likely the actual facts of what had occurred. They knew that the only thing he was being punished over was for having the misfortune of being selected as the tool for He Kexin’s scheme, and his brother’s order – vastly excessive for a breach of the sort listed as the reason, given the usual standard of punishments – was due only to his own embarrassment and chagrin, and maybe his jealousy that Lan Qiren had unwillingly gotten even a little of the attention he so greatly desired and could not have. And yet, despite that…

“He is your sect leader,” one of them, the latter, said, and if his voice was a little regretful, it was also cold and passionless. “He has issued punishment. Are you defying his order?”

Lan Qiren’s hands were like fists on his knees. “Where is my brother?” he asked. He didn’t think an appeal would be a good idea, even if he were technically entitled to it – it’d be futile, unless his brother abruptly realized how foolish he was being – but he would be fine with it if only the answer wasn’t…

“With Rogue Cultivator He. She has agreed to give him another chance.”

Lan Qiren bit his lip and looked down. He did not like He Kexin, and not only because she had so grossly transgressed against him in an obvious attempt to convince his brother not to like her any longer – an attempt that, given the extent of his brother’s love-madness, probably wouldn’t have worked even if Lan Qiren hadn’t been utterly repulsed by the idea of bedding his brother’s prospective bride – and the idea of her giving his brother another chance at this point, even after having done so much to try to make him go away…

Perhaps she liked men that fought over her, he thought bitterly. Or perhaps it was only that she appreciated how much of his love she had for him to treat his younger brother as nothing on her behalf - though if that was what she was thinking, she was sorely mistaken. 

“Something will need to be done about my brother’s behavior,” he said, looking up at them desperately. “You must know that this is not sustainable, honored teachers.”

“That is not your concern,” his swordsmanship teacher said, while his music teacher merely looked sad and helpless, as if what was happening was a force of nature that could not be quelled or diverted, and not merely a single man’s inappropriate behavior. “Will you accept the punishment? Or do you intend to defy the sect leader’s order?”

Lan Qiren shook his head mutely, and went to the discipline hall.

Afterwards, Lan Yueheng scurried in after him, shoving a healing pill into Lan Qiren’s mouth and holding his mouth shut until he swallowed it. “You should go,” he said, glancing around anxiously. “You don’t want to be here any longer than you have to.”

“You assume I don’t have to,” Lan Qiren said, still shaking from the pain. He’d never gotten that many strikes all at once, not in his life; he could barely stand unaided, and leaned on Lan Yueheng gratefully. “I’m supposed to kneel and meditate on my actions for three days –”

“You can do that somewhere else!”

Lan Qiren shook his head.

But for once Lan Yueheng was right and he was wrong. On the first two days of his punishment, he saw his brother pass by the discipline hall in an excellent mood, his ‘second chance’ with He Kexin going better than he had hoped – according to the gossip Lan Qiren overheard, apparently she did like it when handsome men fought for her and believed in her, and moreover apparently one of her friends had intervened on his behalf – but on the third day, just as he was about to complete his penance for crimes he had not committed, his brother returned suddenly in a fury over some setback. In a bout of bad luck and bad timing, he saw Lan Qiren just as he was making his way out of the hall, and in a fit of temper he had extended his order from one set of strikes to two, even though such a retrospective revision of punishment was contrary to both the letter and spirit of the rules.

He was the sect leader, though. According to the rules Lan Yi had set down so many years ago, as sect leader, he was entitled to vary the rules if he felt the need to do so.

This time, when the punishment was done, Lan Qiren hauled himself out of there, using the wall and sheer willpower to force his shaking legs to carry him, and stiffly announced to the teacher supervising punishments that he planned to meditate in penance in the Cold Spring instead of the discipline hall.

It was technically against the stricter interpretations of discipline, since he’d been punished to kneel, not meditate, but the Cold Spring was known to have recuperative and pain-easing properties as well as acting as an aid to cultivation; his teachers, which had overseen his punishment for the second time with tightly pressed lips signifying disapproval that meant nothing if they were unwilling to take any action to stop it, did not dispute him, and with a nod his freedom was assured.

Lan Qiren had a brief moment of disquiet when he got there and realized that he would have to strip off his clothing in order to bathe – he’d only had enough time to wash himself since the incident with He Kexin, and a quick scrub in the cold air did not leave time to worry about who might try to find him while he lacked a protective layer of clothing – but with a deep breath he reminded himself that he, unlike his brother, would not allow his life to be governed by He Kexin’s whims. Anyway, it would be unhealthy to wade in with all his clothing on; the wet cloth would serve only to make him feel colder and get less benefit out of the water’s healing properties. Even if his golden core was strong enough to resist most of the negative effects of catching cold, there was no need to tempt fate.

He put his clothing somewhere he could easily see it, tucking his access token into the clothing in such a way that summoning the token would drag along the robe as well, and then unsteadily entered the water, wincing at the bracing chill as he sank down until he was neck-deep in the water, settling himself in the proper position to meditate. Or, well, to sit blankly and wait for there to be a little less pain: even putting aside the severity, it was also the first time he’d ever been subject to back-to-back punishments in such a reckless fashion. Lack of treatment after a punishment was fairly standard if the sentence also included kneeling – technically, Lan Yueheng shouldn’t have given him a pill to encourage healing, and Lan Qiren shouldn’t have accepted it, although doing so was not a major breach. Moreover, given that the teachers had ignored it rather than adding on any additional punishment, it might even be seen as having been subtly countenanced.

Lan Qiren rather wished he had one now.

Or Lan Yueheng, for that matter. Or even Cangse Sanren, far away in Yunmeng, or Lao Nie, or someone, anyone, who would be friendly and take his side, even –

“Lan Qiren?”

Lan Qiren blinked, surprised to note that the angle of the light had changed considerably; he must have fallen asleep or otherwise drifted off. Or perhaps he was still asleep, because why else would he be hearing Wen Ruohan’s slow drawling tone saying his name in the middle of the Cloud Recesses?

“Ah, little Lan,” the man himself said, gliding out of the mist that surrounded the Cold Spring like a wraith. “There you are.”

Lan Qiren stared at him mutely. “You’re – here.”

It didn’t feel real. How could Wen Ruohan be here?

“I am,” Wen Ruohan said, his lips curved in his usual arrogant expression, the one that said I don’t care what you think of me. “Or am I expected to await your invitation in the future?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, because he felt even less in control of anything to do with his sect than he had been when he’d been its second young master, even though he was now the presumptive heir. His vision of Wen Ruohan blurred and briefly doubled; he blinked to clear it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Even if it was true.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes briefly widened, and then he smirked, looking delighted by the admission. “So you missed me after all,” he said, his voice low and intimate; one might almost call it a purr. “Ah, my stubborn little brother…”

Lan Qiren briefly closed his eyes. Had his brother ever referred to him directly like that? He couldn’t remember if he had.

He wished that it had been some single moment in time, some rash act, that had driven his blood brother, born of the same father and mother, so far away from him. He even wished that it was something that he had done so that it could be something he might fix, might repair with apologies and penance, but he knew that it wasn’t.

When he opened his eyes again, he found that Wen Ruohan had come closer, prowling along the edge of the Cold Spring with his red eyes fixed on Lan Qiren. His pace, as always, was slow and steady – it felt inexorable, unstoppable, and Lan Qiren did nothing to stop him, watching blankly as he came forward, crouching down right beside the place where Lan Qiren was sitting beneath the water.

“Little Lan,” Wen Ruohan purred. “My little Lan…”

He reached out, his long-nailed fingers tracing down along Lan Qiren’s cheek, as light as snowflakes, and down to his chin, catching it in a strong grip and turning his face to look up at Wen Ruohan.  His thumb brushed against Lan Qiren’s lips.

Lan Qiren swallowed. It had been, he thought, too long since he had felt the touch of someone who wished him well, or indeed anyone at all; he had missed it more than he had realized.

Wen Ruohan noticed, and his smirk widened.

“I heard a rumor that you had been caught in attempted adultery,” he remarked. “I didn’t believe it, of course, and no one else did, either – but I had to come see for myself.”

“I didn’t,” Lan Qiren croaked. His voice felt strangled and inexplicably hoarse, and he found himself absently calculating distances in the back of his mind: Wen Ruohan must have left the Nightless City for the Cloud Recesses the very moment he received the report from his spies on what had happened in order to be here now. “I really – didn’t.”

“I believe you,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding cool and amused. “It didn’t really seem like something that my little Lan would do. My little Lan, who missed me so…”

Lan Qiren tried to turn his head away, not wanting to see the smug satisfaction in Wen Ruohan’s voice and face and manner – Wen Ruohan hadn’t won, he thought stubbornly to himself. Lan Qiren hadn’t given up on his conviction that such torture was wrong or that Wen Ruohan was wrong in engaging in it. It was only that Lan Qiren was tired and in pain, and willing to accept comfort from just about anyone.

Wen Ruohan wouldn’t let him turn away, though, and overpowered his weak movement easily.

“Don’t fret,” he said coaxingly. “I missed you, too.”

That sounded nice.

“I must admit, I tried not to. I thought to myself that if you were so foolish as to turn away from me, the consequences should be on your own head, nothing to do with me. But despite my best efforts, you were never far from my thoughts…”

Wen Ruohan’s hand released Lan Qiren’s  chin and drifted down to his throat, lightly pressing his nails against his skin as if examining how the color changed when he did. He moved closer, too close for Lan Qiren to see him clearly given the mist and the angle; his second hand fell upon Lan Qiren’s shoulder, while his first continued to drift down, skating along his collarbone, drifting over to his side –

His touch slid across one of the stray bruises left over from his punishment.

Lan Qiren flinched.

That was a bad idea, of course. The involuntary reflex moved his body too quickly, straining all his other cuts and bruises, and the spike of pain from that made him gasp and instinctively curl up. His vision briefly whited out, and he struggled to control his breathing, keeping it slow and shallow to let the pain pass over him.

After a moment that felt overly long, his vision cleared. When it did, he became aware that Wen Ruohan’s fingers were pressed to his brow in the place between his eyes, transferring warm qi to him in such a torrent that it almost hurt; Lan Qiren lifted up a hand to stop him.

Wen Ruohan was faster than him, though, and he pulled away his hand and caught Lan Qiren’s, pulling it up to examine the bruising that was already appearing on the back of his arm – stray marks, in the main part, since the majority were on his back, between his neck and thighs. “What happened?” he asked, voice sharp. “How did you get these wounds?”

Lan Qiren looked at him in bewilderment: was this not the same man he had seen twist human beings into shapes their bodies could not bear, burn them with fire and slice them into bits? Why would he care so much over a few bruises and cuts, the marks left behind by unyielding wood when it struck flesh, instruments of discipline used a thousand times over in every single sect? 

“You know already,” he said, unable to keep the slight tone of plaintive accusation out of his voice. “You said you believed me…”

Wen Ruohan stared at him, expression strangely blank, and then in a single gesture he pulled Lan Qiren up to a standing position, waist-deep in the water and choking on the pain of it, back bent forward like a bow, the worst of the marks now visible to Wen Ruohan’s burning gaze.

“What is this?” he demanded.

It wasn’t really a question that needed answering, and he wasn’t really asking, not anymore, but Lan Qiren responded regardless: “Punishment.”

Wen Ruohan’s hand was tight on his wrist.

“For what?” he snarled, and he sounded furious. Lan Qiren didn’t know if he’d ever heard Wen Ruohan sound this angry - he didn’t know if anyone alive had heard him be this angry, and if they had whether they’d survived the experience. “It is impossible that you actually bedded your brother’s lover. So what possible reason could they have for punishing you?”

“He’s my sect leader,” Lan Qiren said groggily. His head was starting to hurt; he had exited the cold water too quickly. “Does he need a reason?”

The hand on his wrist tightened still further. Lan Qiren would probably have bruises there in the morning as well, equally undeserved - but he minded these far less. 

At least Wen Ruohan was angry on his behalf.

“Qingheng-jun is daring indeed,” Wen Ruohan said, his voice as smooth as silk and as dark as a moonless night. “To think he can act with impunity to anyone he wishes, even going so far as to harm one with whom I share an oath –”

“…do you?”

Wen Ruohan stopped. “Share an oath with you?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said. His head lolled a little, and he found that somewhere along the line he had been drawn into Wen Ruohan’s arms, making it easy to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder. Wen Ruohan was overly warm, as always; his sect always preferred cultivation techniques involving yang energy and fire – it wasn’t a surprise, not really, but it was unexpected how pleasant it was. “Need a reason.” He shook his head a little. “You hurt people, too.”

“You are not just any person,” Wen Ruohan said. “You’re my little brother.”

“I’m his little brother, too.”

He felt Wen Ruohan’s hand, blazingly hot against his water-chilled body, come to rest on his hair.

“You were born with poor luck in brothers, little Lan,” he said, his breath warm against Lan Qiren’s ear. It was as if all the heat in the world was contained in his body, and Lan Qiren capable only of leeching off of it. “Not just him, but me as well; we each fail you in turn. I will not apologize for having bound you to me, for I do not regret it – but I will endeavor to make it up to you.”

Surrounded by all that warmth, Lan Qiren drifted off to sleep.

[foxglow-diner]

The Iliad Book Five

I think I need to make a tally of how many times I’ve cried while reading the Iliad. So far I know damn well that I cried over Pandarus.

That shit hurted. 

He was screwed over by Athena twice. The first, she tricked him into shooting Menelaus. Instead of his shot being fatal, she prevented the arrow from hitting a life threatening area. The second time, Athena guided Diomedes’ spear, thus killing Pandarus. He tried to repair his honor after being the one who was goaded into shooting Menelaus. For that he was killed by the same goddess. 

When Aeneas tried to protect Pandarus’ body, he was hit by a boulder that Diomedes began to use. It shattered Pandarus’ hip, tore flesh, and made his vision go black. 

This leads to another point I want to discuss. One that I also want to somehow address in my thesis. The Trojans and the gods, versus the Argives and the gods.

It can be summarized as such: While the Trojans are trying to genuinely fight this war–––this statement includes the gods helping them–––the Argives are committing atrocious war crimes. 

Aphrodite is a rough topic in the Trojan’s defense as is Paris. That situation cannot really be defended on their behalf. Helen most definitely didn’t deserve what happened to her, and Aphrodite and Paris’ treatment of her is abhorrent. 

Diomedes actually mentioned this when he stabbed Aphrodite, but then ended up trickling into how she shouldn’t be saving her son, even though Diomedes himself, was super charged by Athena at the time. 

Now, Apollo, Ares, and Hephaestus are trying to provide support to the Trojans without being completely overbearing. Ares only stepped in when Apollo advised. Ares did, however, stay out of battle at the beginning of Book Five because Athena told him to (for her personal gain, I may add). When he stepped into battle, he didn’t advise, he didn’t imbue anyone with power. He gave one rousing speech or two, then helped fight. Hephaestus saved his own child. As did Aphrodite for Aeneas after Pandarus was killed. Apollo solemn appeared at this time, but he still offered aid where and when he could.

Meanwhile, Athena and Hera are going balls deep interfering. Athena super charged Diomedes, and even gave him the order to attack Aphrodite if they crossed paths. She eventually–––when Ares was back in the fight–––lifted that rule, allowing Diomedes to attack any god. Hera prior to this change in rule, went to Zeus, complaining to do something since Ares was ‘participating’, and it would be unfair if she couldn’t.

I know damn well that the only two reasons why Zeus agreed was for two reasons: the biggest is that he had to crush the Argives, so until that time came, he had to appear fair, and the second is that he didn’t want to deal with Hera arguing with him. 

In Book Five, there was something peculiar about the way it was written. Now, this might be simply explained by my translation, I’m not sure. Any time an Argive dies, he is provided insight about his life–––such as his lineage, parent’s lives, the dreams, and people he wanted to see after the war–––and was quickly avenged. When a Trojan died, he would be given significantly less. On one page, a Trojan died and got a single paragraph, while two Achaeans died, and received a long block of text, that could be broken into four paragraphs.

I have one large reason to explain the unfairness displayed. Homer himself didn’t want to tell a story that shed the majority of the gods’ favorites, and the gods themselves, in a nasty light. Which can be a front for the actual truth: Homer felt for the Argives, knowing how they were fighting for a multitude of reasons, even losing sight of the main one. Helen was a shoe in reason, and often told as the second reason or the cover reason as to why an Argive was fighting. 

From the Trojan perspective, they were fighting to survive the brutal Argives, to protect their remaining city, Troy itself. Hector had brothers, blood brothers, on the battlefield with him, and was trying to ensure his and their royal dignity maintained, even Paris. Hector was doing the most in every military and human department. And he was killed by Achilles. His body was famously mutilated for all the surviving Trojans to see. 

For the reason to explain the verses favoring of the Achaeans, Homer was doing it out of pity. He said that this is the fury and unfortunate might of the Argives. No matter how noble you are, they will crush you if they’re determined enough.

It is the rough, meticulous crafting that Homer spent on the details of his characters’ behaviors that draws me into the tale. And again, I’ve expressed interest of this particular area of The Iliad for my thesis. I need to pull it all together after I finish my reading. 

[shadlad24]

The Jinn of War

So, I was going to do another cracksubs episode last night and randomly chose “Crusader.” When Najara first offered control of her army to Xena I was like, “LOL. Ares, iz dat yuu?”

...

...

😨 IS that Ares???

But the more I watched, I thought, no; if anything, he would only have influenced her by pretending to be the jinn and lent her power throughout the episode.

Hear me out:

Ares wasn’t in the fourth season of XWP, except thousands of years after Xena’s time with the finale, I guess to honor his and Xena’s contract (“Soul Possession”). But, of course, the god of war rarely let honor get in his way and probably missed Xena too much to stay away from her for long. Perhaps Ares just got a little smarter and didn’t reveal himself for once? And, maybe, he chose to do the opposite of what he usually did—try to lure Xena back into her darkness—by showing her how being 100% light-committed can actually be a bad thing. Conversely, he might have won Xena over to his side if Najara succeeded in seducing Xena to the way of “righteously” killing all who opposed her.

Najara’s first move was to take down Gabrielle. Ares would do anything to get rid of “the annoying little blonde,” hence his setting Xena up to be wrongly imprisoned for his crimes and thus separating her from the bard (“The Reckoning”), tricking Xena into thinking a hostile town had murdered her father so that she would turn away from Gabrielle—not to mention reverse-psychology’ing Gabrielle into leaving Xena of her own accord—(“Ties That Bind”), allowing Callisto to take over Xena’s body and thus kill Gabrielle and/or manipulate Gabrielle into losing her virtue that had such hold over Xena (“Intimate Stranger”)… helping Gabrielle betray Xena nearly to the point of Xena’s death (“The Debt”/“Forget Met Not”)… playing a part in inciting Xena to murder Gabrielle (“The Bitter Suite”), on and on until he got Gabrielle to kill herself for Xena’s sake the last time he saw her (“Sacrifice II”). But maybe the real jinn interfered just in time? Hmm…

Xena froze or shivered whenever Najara got close to her or looked her in the eye. That’s totally her thing with Ares.

Najara offered Xena her army, which Xena immediately accepted. This is Ares’s dream come true, but something that only worked for him once post-series premiere, in “Ties That Bind” …whilst he was pretending to be someone else. Also, one of the main reasons that scheme fell apart was because he revealed his true identity (though, in this case, it’d be involvement) to Xena too soon. Perhaps he learned his lesson then?

If I remember correctly, then Najara was the only mortal to ever defeat Xena so thoroughly in combat. It would seem that she’d have to have supernatural help to pull that off. The only other times Xena got nearly beaten to death by humans were in “The Gauntlet” and “Who’s Gurkhan?”, when she intentionally walked into those situations and didn’t defend herself even a little bit, right? Related to this, Najara displays abilities very few other characters—most prominently Xena and Ares—possess, like grabbing arrows out of the air with her bare hands.

After that near-fatal beating, Xena got the crazy look in her eyes, odd child-like mentality, and consuming bloodlust of Warlord-Xena, Ares's protégé. Again, this is what happened in “Ties That Bind” after her father got assaulted.

Like the other people Ares tried to control, Najara went her own way in the end. She abandoned Ares’s plan to chase what she really wanted, Gabrielle. And like her predecessors, she failed. In “Ties That Bind,” Kirilus didn’t want to step aside for Xena and give her his men, fought with Ares about it, and then lost. Callisto couldn’t just wait for the body-swap with Xena to become permanent, like Ares told her to do in “Intimate Stranger,” but instead attempted to burn Cyrene and all the people of Amphipolis to death too. She, of course, did not succeed.

…I’d add pictures from the other referenced episodes to go along with each point, but maybe you all could use a break from the overabundance of images too? I’ll come back to this later? :”) Either way, why does the god of war keep taking over my posts? Is this the ninth Ares-centered one now? Halp! I dun even like the guy very much. heh

What do you guys think of this theory?

[mollysfoundfamily]

What are the epithet erased folks like when they're drunked?

Oh ho ho ho this is going to be fun! ( alcohol and drunk Tigger warning though)

Molly: No. No. No. No. no alcohol for the baby. EVER! Percy doesn’t even anything that even looks like it get close to her and her young still forming brain!! the others have kind of an unspoken rule about it to. SHES. JUST. TOO. PURE.

she hasn’t told them that her dad used to let her drink pumpkin spice beer at thanksgiving yet.

Sylvie: Don’t tell percy but Sylvie drinks wine the most respectable and classy of all adult beverages when he’s at office parties. The others are reluctant to let a 15 year old do it but he insists he‘s more then responsible enough. It’s purely to study the complex flavors anyway (he’ll never admit it but they all taste like expired cough syrup to him) not to get totally inebriated for the sake of it.... that part happened on accident. It only takes about one glass to do it and He goes into beef beef sheep mode but as a drunken out loud ramble. He comes up with alot of “ground braking theories“ when he gets like this too. He was once convinced that motion wasn’t real it‘s just an illusion our brains cook up to help us cope with our frozen world!!! He’ll just keep rambling and hiccuping for hours every once and a while admitting something very very embarrassing like How he doesn’t know what half the big words he uses mean or that his coffee is actually just chocolate milk until he eventually passes out on top of a pile of very tipsy sheep sucking his thumb.... which is usually fallowed by a visit from a very very glitchy beefton Who has fish fins for some reason because drunk dreams apparently aren’t as stable as regular dreams.

Giovanni: Gio doesn’t even really like alcohol (mostly because of Debby) but sneaks into bars every now and then because underage drinking is a major crime!! He can’t stomach anything unless it’s drowned in sweet strawberry staved ice or a million different juices and of course a tiny umbrella and it only takes one of those to get him waisted... His whole face flushes totally red even his ears! He’s somehow even louder and more obnoxious then usual! Dancing on tables swinging form ceiling fans yelling at strangers who don’t tip or harass The bar tenders and getting into fist fights with them which he usually loses (making out with crusher that one time) his few inhibitions completely out the window along with the Bar‘s jukebox.... it’s the only time he’s ever committed any kind of real crimes. Then on the second on he just Starts maniacally laughing and crying at the same time. Its actually pretty scary to witness so thank goodness Bear trap ain’t around. Until It eventually just becomes crying about all the mean stuff he did and how great it is but how it’s awful too and how he doesn’t wanna be mean but you have to be mean to be a bad guy so does that mean he doesn’t wanna be a bad guy? and really feels like he should have taken that four year baseball scholarship to the city’s top medical College!!

Mera: She’s a little harder to get waisted mostly Because she has to be really careful not to brake the fancy glasses her drinks come in. When she does it only makes her get more grumpy and makes her start scream ranting about how terrible life is and how terrible people are and just how much everything and everyone sucks all the time... expect for Indus

her affection for him is turned up a hundred fold she’ll throw herself on top of him and nuzzle into him like a kitty squeezing his muscles! She’ll ramble on about how he’s the handsomest sweetest person in the history of ever and how she doesn’t deserve him and just wants to kiss his big dumb face and from there it trails off into.... pg 13 territory untill she passes out and a very red faced indus has to carry her home.

Indus: Indus is also pretty hard to get drunk since he’s so huge it’s only ever happened once. It was from one to many of those wooden pints of ale at this theme bar because of course it was. Everyone there thought he was an actor or something and kept asking for selfies because he kept singing broken warrior drinking ballets and challenging people to drinking contests which only made things worse. After winning about 5 he couldn’t say too words without braking into giggle fit or hiccuping his head off. It would have been kinda cute if he hadn’t also lost all motor control, completely forgot how strong he was and smashed almost everything and everyone he came in contact with. He hugged about 7 people into the hospital, smashed a hole on the bar. and then tried to fight a forklift. But he probably would have done that last one anyway.

Percy: (aka the one you’re all waiting for) Has only ever taken a drink once in her life. Ramsey thought Champagne would be a good way to celebrate after closing a big case together... he has never regretted anything so much. She took one sip and she was immediately completely intoxicated a Drunken delinquent unable to control her own actions or the already rapidly forming addition she was suffering from. But she would work as hard as she could to get sober and decided to check herself into the nearest rehab center. He tried to stop her but she was determined to go strait there but she wouldn’t allow herself to operate a motor vehicle under such conditions so she decided to walk there right through the middle of heavy traffic. Once again totally unable to control her rash decisions. He eventually got her to come back thankfully without getting hit. Only for her to run straight into a stop sign. She got back up again immediately and acted like nothing was wrong even though blood was pooring out of her swelled up nose! He tried to take her to the hospital but she insisted on staying to defend her honor again the offending sign as irrational displays of strength was a common drunken activity. But electrocuting it was probably not the best idea since it sort of acted as a lightning rod and fired the underground wires the ran underneath it blacking out the next 5 city blocks. The video of the whole thing when viral and Percy uses as an example of the dangers of alcohol For the kids.

Ramsey: The man can afford freaking gold laced Champagne but chooses box rosé in the basement watching Adam Sandler movies like the king he is.

But somehow with out fail he will always always always wake up the next morning in the master sweet of a yacht he just bought with a bunch of passed out strangers half of which are furries in a giant pile of money totally unable to move his face because of the back ally Botox he got done. wearing nothing but his boxers, gold chains with a little gold rats on them, and solid gold crocks still holding that box of rosé....

Zora: We’ve done drunk Zora art here before she’s pretty much exactly what you would expect downing whisky and beer left and right just to see how far she can go!! Her competitiveness goes through the roof and she’s challenging anyone to anything darts, arm wrestle, poole, russian roulette, jump rope, anything she was one of the said people Indus got into a drinking contest with and the only one he lost too! She really isn’t that much different then her usual self since she drinks pretty regularly and has the highest tolerance out of everyone.

extra because I had too!!

Howie: It seems like its impossible to get him drunk. His worker bees get him to try and loosen up a little because like it or not he needs it. But he’s already downed 10 giant beers and seems totally the same.... until he gets a call about a new job gets up and walks right through the wall of the bar leaving a Howie shaped hole behind him.