#you just know his name is pronounced like Jeanne

[michelangelos-last-judgement]

Good morning to everyone except who pronounce Jean like gene

[tartrat]

Unnamed Coaches' Name Headcanons!

Random unnamed coaches and the names I’ve given them. I decided it would be funny if i gave each quotes and quests. I also just gave them all the classic rarity because it would've looked weird without. theres 9 maps and 10 coaches.

1. Freed From Desire: Garnet. I mentioned this in my other drawing of her. I just felt like her being named after a gemstone was fitting, like she just has that air to her. The gemstone itself is believed to bring emotional balance and self confidence, which i think fits with the map.

2. All The Stars: Vega. A while ago I was thinking about avatars for other coaches and I remembered her. Vega is one of the brightest stars in the night sky. maybe she comes from a long line of coaches who use the stars, so she was named after one of the brightest. Side note but i accidentally gave her robes the beta colours, they should be like a purple instead of red.

3 & 4. Love Story: Just straight up Romeo and Juliet. I thought about giving them names that are similar to Romeo and Juliet, but realistically that's what they would be named. I just wanted to draw both of them since Love story is one of my favourite 2022 maps.

5. Blinding Lights extreme: Jayyce Sway but friends and family call him Jayy. I can’t get the idea of him being Talia Sway’s father and him settling down in Wasterra out of my head, plus "Sway" as a last name just sounds futuristic to me. Jayyce is just a corruption of "Jace" that i thought would look futuristic with two ys. I just think he's cool and would be a great father. (you can't really see it but he is smiling here)

6. Giddy On Up: Belle. Another map i miss, its just really fun trying to do those high kicks. Other names i was thinking for her were Andrea and Laura ( after Laura Bell Bundy), but neither sounded country enough for her. Then i thought Annabelle, which i then shortened down to Belle.

7. Follow the White Rabbit: Allison. I didn't want to just straight up call her Alice, unlike how i just gave the love story coaches Romeo and Juliet. Originally i was thinking of spelling it as Alicyn but then went against that. But also it sounds like "Alice In" as in "Alice in Wonderland". Also i know that its the rabbit who says "I'm late!" twice but the quote i was originally giving her didn't really make sense. I rushed this one because intitialy she was in the same pose as one of the gold moves from FTWR but it looked too weird and i wanted to move on. She looks shocked here, i don't want to think about this drawing anymore.

8. John Cena: Jeanne Cena. this is just like the John Wayne coach all over again. You’d pronounce Jeanne like John. It was the obvious choice, and I also just wanted an excuse to draw her. Doubt you'll need her name if you can't even see her in the first place. One of my favourite maps, its just so good.

9. Levitating Extreme: Aster. I was thinking along the lines of Astro for some reason, then the name Aster kept popping up in my head. Turns out Aster means "star" and is also a type of purple flower that is star shaped. Given the space imagery from his background it makes sense.Definitely the type to not tell you his name because he sees no point because he thinks he's disposable (as if Si'ha Nova ever gets attacked).

10. Buscando Extreme: Jacques. I don't know why but he looks french to me, then the name just stuck because i couldn't think of anything else. One of my favourite extremes, at some point in early 2021 i somehow knew most of it off by heart. also i like to think of him as the father of the coach from the classic version. At some point all the male 2021 extremes i'm just going to headcanon as the father of another coach.

-

So this is what i've been working on. I mentioned the love story, Giddy on up and Blinding lights extreme coaches in previous posts because i was doing this lol.

i did it in the order of JC - BLE - FFD - LE - ATS - FTWR - GOU -BE - LSTV. By the point i got to Buscando extreme i was getting tired of doing this so he along side the love story coaches look fucked up. Given that it was my first time drawing some of them, i didn't really think that they'd look good, since i'm not used to drawing them. But it was good to draw coaches that i haven't drawn before, and draw the ones i have already drawn, again.

I have other things i want to draw next, there's a map concept in my drafts that i want to actually draw so that will probably be my next fanart post.

[elmothedictator]

Jeanne meets British S.A.S Jaune (idea is taken from @arc-misadventures the swap)

(Britain exists somewhere in Remnant…. Lmao) [We now see Jeanne in the white room after the swap]

Jeanne: *Scared look after seeing a lot of gunfire and dead bodies* Well… that was quite an experience. Never thought i’d see a real Great War. What is Jaune doing in that place anyway? Isn’t he supposed to be in Beacon?

*Footsteps is being heard in the same room before she saw a 6’6 behemoth in a skull mask (Similar to the CoD Reboot Ghost, but with sharp teeth), baseball cap, a tactical headset and a full military uniform walks in]

British!Jaune: *Walking in* Fucking hell, why am i even in a bloody campus? The last thing i remember before suddenly being in campus is me fighting the Al-Qatala (Qa was pronounced Qo in Arabic). One guy with red hair suddenly attacks me before I incapacitate him. What in the bloody hell is going on?

[Meanwhile in Jeanne’s universe]

Nora: Soooo…. Ren, what should we do with Pyrros’s unconscious body?

Lian (Ren is the last name): We need to carry Pyrros back to our room

Nora: Okay Rennie!!!

Team RWBY: *Shivering in fear seeing a guy takes out one of the best fighter in Beacon*

[Back to the white room]

Jeanne: *Pointing the sword at the man* Who are you and what have you done to Jaune?!

British!Jaune: *Pointing his FN SCAR H at Jeanne* Who in the bloody hell are you and how did you know my name?

Jeanne: Jaune?! Since when did you use guns, not only that, since when did you becomes such a behemoth and wearing a Skull mask and tactical gears?! And what’s with the accent?!

British!Jaune: Identify yourself, now!

Jeanne: My name is Jeanne D’Arc also known as Jeanne Arc, i’m the fifth Daughter of Acheius Arc and Juniper Arc.

British!Jaune: Fucking hell…. Seems like we’re a completely different yet the same person at the same time. What is actually going on?

Jeanne: Ok, so what’s going on is that we’re having a phenomenon different Jaune and i call “The Swap”. It happens at really random times and this place is what we call “The White Room”. Now can you answer the question i asked you before, please.

British!Jaune: My name’s Jaune Arc, callsign “Banshee”, Rank Sergeant. I’m a Sniper-Demolition expert and the newest member of Task Force 141. That’s all i gotta say

Jeanne: C’mon, that’s all? Not even your birthday and age

British!Jaune: *Sighs* My age is 22 Years old, birthday is on March 2nd 51 AGW (After Great War)

Jeanne: You’re 3 years older than me!!! The usual Jaune that i swapped with is the same age as i did!!!

British!Jaune: huh, the more you know. How the usual Jaune that you swapped with was like?

Jeanne: He’s 6’1, wearing a knight armor and using a sword. He’s also has a large amount of Aura

British!Jaune: Bloody hell, he’s also on Beacon?

Jeanne: Uh…. He kinda faked his way into beacon?

British!Jaune: *Laughs* Maybe all Jaunes always faking their way into something we really wanted to be.

Jeanne: You WHAT?!

British!Jaune: I also did faked my way into a military at the age of 16, they didn’t even know i was 16 because of my height and a bit of my voice (Just imagine RK Jaune voice but with british accent). You the same?

Jeanne: Actually i’m not, i got in legally

British!Jaune: Heh, nice work then, your parents must’ve trained you and let you in. Unlike mine did

Jeanne: Lemme guess, you’re not trained by your parents and trying to join the huntsman academy but got rejected, aren’t you?

British!Jaune: Something like that, except the rejection part, i was thinking that my bloody age is too old to start training, so i joined the military as part of the British S.A.S. And that’s where i met Captain Price.

Jeanne: Who is Captain Price

British!Jaune: He’s the Captain of the team, Task Force 141, recruited me to-

[Jeanne was later in her own room]

Jeanne: Huh, i’m back *Spots Pyrros unconscious on his own bed*

Nora: Jeanne, you’re back!

Jeanne: What happened to Pyrros, Nora? Did you hit him with your hammer?

Lian: She didn’t, he attacked a really tall man with skull mask and a full military uniform and tactical equipment and the man quickly incapacitated him

Jeanne: Jaune did that?!

Nora and Lian: That was Jaune?!

Jeanne: You guys didn’t know?

Nora: I don’t recall him being that tall and trained like that

Jeanne: Apparently i got swapped with another Jaune. He’s a soldier version of him

Lian: But what’s with the mask?

Jeanne: I don’t know, i haven’t asked him. Maybe next time

///

Forgive me for some shitty ass writing bruv

[saturnine-saturneight]

OC origins name tag!

Hopping on an open tag by @paeliae-occasionally!

I want to know how you came up with your original character’s names and personalities. Are they based on people in your real life? Are they straight from your brain? Are they a mix of several people?

I've put a lot of thought into this, and made some more adjustments yesterday, so I'm excited to talk about it, haha.

Nat: Full name Natalie King

I was playing around with names that could mean 'born under a bad star' for them, but landed on Natalie, which means born on Jesus' birthday aka Christmas. Nat grew up Christian and has a bizarre relationship with it - this isn't even their legal name, they picked this out themself.

It's also nice that it starts with an N. Nat is themed after one of the seven wonders of the antique world, the hanging gardens of Babylon, built by Nebuchadnezzar II. King follows from this as well, plus lends itself well to their general character.

Ron: Full name Aarón Odo

Meaning 'high mountain' or 'exalted', playing into a very vague sky theme. In the bible, Aaron's rod produced miracles, a nod to Ron's street magic. The accent is on there because he's Afro-Brazilian. I also think the name Ron has kind of a mischievous, youthful vibe.

Jeanne Odo was a Haitian abolitionist. Ron doesn't consider himself someone who can make any kind of change, but he has his opinions.

Haru: Full name Luo Haru / Luó Guāng Fèng

Haru is of mixed Japanese and Chinese descent, so she has two names. Like the majority of Chinese people, she goes by her non-Chinese name in non-Chinese company because nobody can pronounce the other one right and she'd rather not hear it butchered.

Haru can mean spring, but also sun, playing into how she gets underestimated frequently by her looks and her height. She has a sun/fire theme going, which is also reflected in her chinese name (which my beta reader helped me massively with and which I have yet to run by someone fluent in Chinese to tell me if it sounds good, if this is you please hmu.) It uses the characters 光 (Guāng) meaning light, polish, shine, and one part of the word for 鳳凰 (Fènghuáng) for phoenix.

It's a very, very pompous name, given to her by her father with high hopes for her life.

There's not a lot to be said about Luó in contrast, it's just one of the most frequent family names in China.

Teo: Full name Mateo Aparecido

Teo used to have an accent on the e, but the Spanish version of his name doesn't actually have it, so he's lost his accent privileges.

From Matthaios, a Hebrew name meaning gift of God. I was looking for something meaning 'gift of the sea', but this is close enough. That's also why I abbreviate it to just 'gift'.

Aparecido, to manifest oneself, is one of the more common family names in Brazil. Teo is moon/water themed and I was playing with the idea of making his last name Rana (frog), but Aparecido flows better with his first name.

Matcha: Full name Malati Gupta

Matcha Ginny is a cover name she's given herself to obscure her identity, which is also close enough to her legal name to not get her confused.

Malati means Jasmine, which is also a kind of tea :)

Gupta means protector or guardian, a good motif for her character and aspirations. It's frequent among Brahmin, who have the cash to emigrate into the United States.

Rabbit: Full name Lydia Dotson

Rabbit is called Rabbit in the narrative because it's from Ron's and Nat's perspective. It's a mean nickname about her big front teeth and general prey animal demeanor that's just stuck around.

I picked out Lydia for the first letter it shares with Lepus, the latin name for the family of hares.

Dodgson was the legal name of Lewis Carroll, author of Alice in Wonderland. I'm afraid she can't escape it, she's rabbit/hare themed.

Louis: Full name Dr. Louis Bishop

Louis/Ludwig is a name frequently given to kings meaning 'famous in battle'. I needed something authoritative for him, something belligerent. He's a very gentle man on the surface, so the name needed some weight. The same goes for Bishop - I picked out a Christian authority figure here as a nod to Nat.

This also reflects that he really doesn't get a lot of characterization outside of Nat and how much he inhabits his antagonist role in the story. He likes bees, but he's s not getting named after what he likes.

I'm making this an open tag!

[thosearentcrimes]

20th March, 1861, London

Our protagonist, Étienne, is a Radical lately exiled from France for his revolutionary views. Today Étienne is seething about the bizarre theories of his fellow Londoner revolutionary emigre, Karl Marx. Oh sure, human society does progress linearly through stages, that's obvious, everyone knows that. But it's not because of accumulation or material conditions or whatever. Of course a guy who reads and writes about political economy and capitalism all day thinks all of politics is just political economy and capitalism. The French Revolution could not have happened until the late 18th century? Nonsense. The French Revolution couldn't have happened until the Enlightenment, sure, but the Enlightenment could have occurred sooner. All of the timing is just a historical accident, a matter of waiting for the right crisis in a country of the right (French) temperament and a Great Man or two possessed of the right concepts. You see, Étienne is very much an Idealist.

Étienne is a smart and well-educated man, and so a sympathetic acquaintance has managed to secure him a respectable position as an assistant curator at the new Museum of Manufactures in Kensington, and he quite enjoys his daily walk to work through the Kensington Gardens from his new home in one of the nicer streets of Paddington. Despite his intelligence, however, he is not a cautious man, which is how he ended up in London in the first place. Today it would have paid to be cautious. George F Train, a man of rather similar temperament to Étienne, has recently set up a tram line running along the north edge of Kensington Gardens. Étienne is crossing there at this very moment, too absorbed in his pondering of historical forces to notice the people yelling at him to stop or the carriage speeding towards him. He is pronounced dead at the scene.

???, Paris

Our protagonist, Étienne, has just been born to Isabelle Barbou, wife of the clothier Simon Marcel. How this has happened, or how it is possible, is not known to the author of these words. All that is known is that Étienne the son of the clothier Simon Marcel is very much the same person, with the same memories, as Étienne the aforementioned assistant curator. His first act, in his second (and yet preceding?) life, is quite characteristic for the newborn body he now occupies. He cries. For several years, as any baby does, he will compose himself. Étienne, however, is not getting used to the existence of the world, but rather to early 14th century France, a task by no means easy for a man used to the conveniences of 19th century urban life and goods.

12th June, 1315, Paris

Étienne had been fairly quick to orient himself. Easily he discovered his name and identity, though his knowledge of its meaning was rather hazy as his recollections of medieval history were not the best even when he was first alive. He was supposed to be some sort of traitor? That fit well enough. It took him longer to get a precise handle on the date. Even if he had been able to discern which Roi Philippe people were talking about and which Flemish Revolt they were discussing, he did not remember the precise years. Eventually he snuck enough peeks at contracts to be confident that the clustering of dates around 1311 roughly reflected the then-current year.

Étienne's first thought had been to prevent the Hundred Years War. Sure, tensions between the Kings of England and France were already high and unwinding those antagonisms would not be possible, but if the looming succession crisis of 1328 could be stopped the intensity and length of the warfare could be reduced and the repeated threats to French independence could be headed off entirely, and history could be advanced by up to the century otherwise lost to pointless war. Sure, the French people would be denied the glorious symbol of Jeanne d'Ar- hm. Was Jeanne someone like him? Were there others in his own new time? Well, that was a worry for another time.

It was the Tour de Nesle affair and the death of Philippe IV that prompted Étienne to seriously review the idea of preventing the succession crisis, and which eventually led him to dismiss it entirely. How was a young cloth merchant in Paris, whose father was not even all that rich or prominent, affect the family relations of the Capet family? Even if he were the fournisseur des draps for one of the princely houses, how would a wise choice of fabrics help? No, there really was no prospect of preventing the crisis.

Already since first hearing of the Flemish revolts, Étienne had been idly fantasizing about an alternative approach. Instead of preventing the crisis, he could take personal initiative and advance history by a great deal more taking advantage of the crisis. The Valois would certainly need to call the États Généraux to finance the war, and if he could get there Étienne could start rerunning the events of 1789. Certainly he would not be able to prevent the emergence of the Empire, likely he would not make it to a Republic, but perhaps he could give France (and by extension the world) a bit more of a head start.

Étienne's questions, rather odd even for a precocious child, got him the answers he needed. The elected position most likely to be invited to the États was the Prévôt des Marchands of Paris. Some modifications to the events of 1789 would be necessary, there was no Bastille to storm (storm the Louvre instead? or build a Bastille and storm that?) but in principle he had everything he needed. A crisis, the Parlement de Paris, a meeting of the États Généraux. Doing anything like this just one century earlier would have been much more difficult.

[lucinesnow]

jeanne’s complex

“I can’t believe I would run back to you again...”  

The night was silent. The waves were gently caressing the beach and the sea was bathing in the blue moonlight. There were not clouds at all, they would have stained the beautiful, dreamy night that felt like a fever dream.  

She was holding her chest while opening her corset to breathe. Her parasol was ripped, the dress she was wearing was torn half off and she was panting heavily. Her feet were stained in the sand, she had not worn shoes at all.

“Jeanne.”

He stood there, calm as the ocean, his eyes glowing bluer than the milky way. His presence was ethereal, nothing she’d ever seen before. In her eyes, he didn’t seem to be the same selfish man anymore – no, he looked like an angel in this indigo night with eternal silence. The sound of waves calmed her down as she tried her best to not think about him any further, but she knew she would not leave now.  

He turned around to see her and smiled widely. Sudden butterflies filled Jeanne’s stomach, not those fluttering little ones but huge birds that would make her vomit of feelings. Yet, she dared not look away.

“It’s nothing, I just... had something important to tell you”, she gulped, staring at those starry eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, damn human.”

And he laughed; there was nothing funny about it, but he laughed his angelic laugh again. She looked away in embarrassment.  

“You know, Jeanne”, the way he pronounced her name made her heart stop, “you’re so pretty in this moonlight.”

Her eyes flew open as she stared at him again. Something burned her cheeks, as if someone had just thrown fire into them, and she felt her legs chaining herself to the sand. He took a few steps closer and reached his hand out to touch her soft, rosy cheek, but she shook him off.  

“Sh-shut up, human...” she muttered. “I don’t like you; you should know that by now...”

“But you do like my blood, right, Jeanne?”

And he was right. She desired his blood more than anything else in this world. The soft scent was the sole reason she was here, she tried to tell herself, and she would not need anything more, ever. Only his blood would satisfy her eternal thirst.

“Yes, I do”, she whispered. “That is... why I am here.”

He cupped her chin on his fingertips and turned her to look at him, she could not hold the butterflies anymore. His eyes were intensely locked at hers and for a moment, she got lost in that azure heaven.

“Then, you shall have it”, he said with a smile, revealing his bare shoulder.

She had not planned it at all. That was not the reason she was here, and what if she lost control? She should have not even mentioned it, but now that he was offering it for free, she could never refuse. Or maybe it was the reason she had arrived... at this point, she wasn’t even sure anymore.

In a second’s thought, she bit him. He let out a soft moan as her teeth pierced his flesh, and that voice made her want him even more. His blood – it was delicious, bittersweet, filled with rose petals and angels’ laugh, and she wanted it more. And more, and more. She couldn’t stop herself, even though he was moaning a bit louder, she didn’t want to stop.

“Ah, Jeanne...” he gasped. “That... feels so good, actually.”

She felt warm touch on her back as his arms wrapped gently around her, pulling her closer. And she knew she had to stop now, now was the right moment. She couldn’t control herself either way.

He looked at her messed up face and the blood on her lips and smirked. And she couldn’t help but look back at him.  

“Damn you, Vanitas”, she murmured.  

For a moment, he looked surprised. “You called me by my name, Jeanne.”

She blushed crimson red again. He was still holding her tight, so close that she could have almost kissed him if she had wanted to. And deep down, she did want it.

“Vanitas”, she repeated. “I’m not here for this, I... I’m here to tell you an... urgent matter.”

He caressed her cheek so lovingly she was stunned to speak again. He would not let her go, and she would not confess her feelings now. She would not do that. She couldn’t seem like an easy woman. But no, she couldn’t help it; she had fallen for him, way too much and way too deep, like the ocean at night. So dark and mysterious, and no one was waiting for her in the bottom.

“What is it then, Jeanne dear?”  

Her heart was beating out of her chest as he spoke. She tried to contain her feelings and look at him with a professional look, but soon the feelings would overthrow this logical state she was in.

“Don’t look at me like that”, she whispered softly.

“Like what?”

“Like that”, she said again. “You’re making me nervous, Vanitas, almost as if I'd want you to kiss me.”

She regretted it the second she said it and closed her eyes in embarrassment. In a sudden, she felt an angelic force on her, she saw a rose garden, she felt the soft petals falling on her as she felt the first euphoria she had ever felt. Something soft and sweet, like a peach, or a sip of cherry wine, scent of old books.  

Vanitas backed away from the kiss, and she looked at him again, now she could not contain anything anymore.

“I love you, Vanitas”, she gently said. “I... really... always loved you, somehow.”

“And of course, I love you, my dear Jeanne.”

[unchataparis]

A Review of Jubilation

The opening of Jubilation is the kind of 'filler' that I missed in the recent seasons. Sure, it could be argued that they contribute nothing to the plot, but these kind of scenes are essential for building a character’s personality without being overtly verbose or cluttered. A scene of Marinette running in what appears to be early morning builds her reputation for capability, athleticism, and self-discipline. Her track suit also pronounces her as a practical person, but with a penchant for pink and an eye for style.

Her outfit is pretty cute. Pink hoodie, black shorts, phone handily strapped to biceps. Very Marinette-esque.

Marinette still smiling when looking at Gabriel, her favourite designer. Not knowing that he’s the case of all her problems.

Seeing the Alliance advertisement play out on the billboard is so cool. It gives the feeling that these are actually people living their life, seeing campaigns across their city and exercising; rather than being two-dimensional characters on a TV screen. Very human moments.

Is there a reason why the writers made this girl look almost exactly like Marinette? I feel like that would be important.

Look at the graffiti in the back. There’s LB, someone’s very passionate about their mother, and a Keith Haring man with Ladybug patterns?

Marinette actively uses her moped now. That’s good. The events of Chére Famille wasn't just an one-off, it had impacts on Marinette and on the narrative.

Out of curiosity, I did some research on driving laws in France, and Marinette can legally ride her moped. She’s definitely above fourteen.

New set design!

Very pretty new set. An art shop!

So this is how people are using their Alliance rings. Lila was right. Gabriel and Tomoe are geniuses, if, along with their nefarious purposes, they still managed to craft a compact form of technology that could completely revolutionise how people live their day-to-day life. Think of how children, the disable, and elderly could really benefit from this.

Socqueline does both tae kwon do and gymnastics. Those are very Ladybug activities. She certainly have the specs to be a mock-vigilante.

The average adult walks 4-5 thousand steps a day, most often even less. What kind of marathoning activities is Socqueline getting up to to rack up fifty thousand? And it's apparently not even noon yet. Girl was vigilanting as Ladybug by running around the city on foot.

I cannot stress the ethical violations pertaining of Adrien’s digitalised form. It’s a cartoon, but that is the real image of an in-universe child being undressed and redressed like a doll. Gabriel, what are you doing? That’s your son.

Marinette, please don’t blurt out Adrien’s life story and deepest fears to a random person, even if that random person happens to be an old friend.

Dr Anne-Jeanne Théoxanne du Bocquale has such a specific name, design, and fixation. She’s bound to show up as an important character and not just as a side-gag repeatedly. 

Marinette leaves with Socqueline’s ring on her finger. That’s going to bode well. Gabriel is likely hoping that Ladybug and Chat Noir will wear the Alliance rings, and their erratic physical activity or some other suspicious trigger will alert him of their identities.

Man is going through it.

Monsieur Damoclès really does look like an owl. Did they plan that into his character design, planning to debut him as the Owl all the back pre-Season 1?

His avatar is Emilie. That is such a creepy and neat detail. Emilie’s model definitely isn’t publicly available. One has to wonder how Gabriel got Emilie’s features. Lila and Adrien he scanned, but Emilie? He took her measurements in her coffin/bed? Or was Emilie’s image already available pre-coma due to her vocation as an actress?

Firstly, Socqueline attends Claude Monet High School. That’s so pretty. Secondly, Socqueline won the Grand Prix gymnastics championship three years in a row?? Which Grand Prix? The global tournament one? In that case, I’ll start believing Socqueline is Ladybug too. 

Also, called it. Ladybug’s erratic circle around Paris was noticed, immediately.

The Alliance rings also allow Monarque to be able to search for a perfect victim rather than waiting for their emotions to reach him! That is good! Monarque is really thinking in this season. These rings, not that Ladybug and Chat Noir knows are their enemy yet, is slowly pushing them into a corner. If either one of the decide to don one of these things, pretty soon it’ll be game over. Would Tikki and Plagg be able to sense the faint traces of Monarque in these rings should either Marinette or Adrien get them? Probably not.

And, boom, here we see that the power of the Miraculous themselves can be remotely transferred over the Alliance rings, no physical Monarque gifting ceremony necessary. These rings, if used properly, is going to win Monarque this battle.

Socqueline is clever.

Marinette thinks the reason why Grand Duc believes Socqueline to be Ladybug is because Socqueline cosplayed as her too many times. Marinette isn’t going to find out the truth of the Alliance rings for some time.

He’s so calm accepting this loss. Monarque has definitely matured. This classier attitude is more befitting of a terrifying villain. Someone who stays calm no matter how bad the situation is for them always send a chill down the protagonist and audience’s spine, because it feels like you’re being played no matter how the battle turns out. The protagonist could win, but they would still be thinking "but what if I only played into their hands?" Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII is a good example of this type of villain. RIP Cloud’s mental psyche.

??? Dude, are you okay?

Both of them.

The citizens are viewing them from this angle because there’s not enough models to fill a crowd.

This is actually hilarious, this actually made me laugh.

So that’s what the Lucky Charm is for.

lmao.

Alewife.

"They ask me why I’m bringing" 🎶🎶 "A baby into battle. That’s really irresponsible, and getting them rattled."

That is the most horrifying child I’ver ever seen. We’ve seen baby models in Miraculous before (August), so clearly this is meant to emulate a doll. Paints the youthfulness of Chat Noir and Ladybug’s natures.

It gets funnier.

This Cadeau is both of their deepest desires, so they both want to end up together. It must be traumatic, to have years worth of good memories and fake living ripped from under oneself in a moment. And the famous umbrella theme is playing!

And their tears form into the rain!

Yes!! Adrien manages to control his own emotions for once, without being aided by Ladybug or stopped at the last moment by some other interruption.

From both of their expression, I’m guessing they both remember the dream?

This is animal cruelty. Kwami cruelty.

Since the Kwami regains their powers from the nourishment of the food they eat, wouldn’t it benefit Gabriel to dish out some five-star treats? This is just unnecessary cruelty at this point. Maybe Gabriel is giving them slop to keep the Kwami purposely weak. Enough to charge up a new Champion, but not enough to start getting ideas.

"You’re already amazing, even without the suit." Yeah, girl. You won the gymnastics Grand Prix three years in a row. That’s a near impossible accomplishments. You’re practically superhuman.

Marinette gets gifted an Alliance ring, which must be expensive, and she rejects it immediately. Either she doesn’t like the fact that Adrien’s image is being handed out like free candy to every Dick, Tom, and Harry in Paris, or she’s getting vibes from it. 

And Marinette explains the reasoning herself a second later! Good call, even if Gabriel isn’t the evil force behind the Alliance rings, physical data get sent back to the parent company all the time, for device optimisation or just archiving. Some random employee would realise, sooner or later, that the device which belongs to a certain person with unexplainable supernatural feats keep unleashing those feats in the same time and place Ladybug is active.

Lila appears once at the end of the episode, not even in person, just as her avatar. Yet, her image is at the centre of the endcard, violently salient with her all-white clothings amid an aureate background. There’s also a pronounced moment between her and Sabine. Foreshadowing that Sabine is going to be manipulated by Lila this season? Or that Lila’s scheming will hit the Dupain-Cheng family harder than ever this season?

And we get our second post-end card scene. Has these happened before? I don’t think so. It’s a good scene. Chat Noir and Ladybug are professionals, pondering the more life-threatening aspect of today’s queries first. The personal questions come after. But Ladybug is stout to deny that any of the dream – the wedding, babies, happily ever after – has anything to do with her true desires.

Monsieur Damoclès is the first true Akumatised villain this season, and he makes the debut with grandeur, sporting a new name, look, and brand new Miraculous power. He actually got pretty close to gaining Ladybug’s Miraculous too, which highlights the efficiency of this season’s Akumatised villains and Monarque’s better planning. Having the convenience of the Alliance rings and the versatility of the Kwami’s powers is going to force Ladybug and Chat Noir to edges they haven’t been before. In a way, Ladybug and Chat Noir barely won the battle. Grand Duc didn’t even fight back at the end. He seemed to be accepting that he has lost, and rather than continue futilely, decided to give it up and let Monarque try another day. Wonderful episode, makes me quite excited for more. How will other Champion fare against Ladybug and Chat Noir when they have new Miraculous powers on their side? Imagine Sapotis with Mirage, or Startrain with Voyage. Armed with the same abilities that defeated them in the first place.

[theculturedmarxist]

To justify Hillary Clinton’s 2016 loss to Donald Trump, leading Democrats and their key media allies for years competed with one another to depict what they called “Russia’s interference in our elections” in the most apocalyptic terms possible. They fanatically rejected the view of the Russian Federation repeatedly expressed by President Obama — that it is a weak regional power with an economy smaller than Italy’s capable of only threatening its neighbors but not the U.S. — and instead cast Moscow as a grave, even existential, threat to U.S. democracy, with its actions tantamount to the worst security breaches in U.S. history.

This post-2016 mania culminated with prominent liberal politicians and journalists (as well as John McCain) declaring Russia’s activities surrounding the 2016 to be an “act of war” which, many of them insisted, was comparable to Pearl Harbor and the 9/11 attack — the two most traumatic attacks in modern U.S. history which both spawned years of savage and destructive war, among other things.

Sen. Jeanne Shaheen (D-NH) repeatedly demanded that Russia’s 2016 “interference” be treated as “an act of war.” Hillary Clinton described Russian hacking as “a cyber 9/11.” And here is Rep. Jerry Nadler (D-NY) on MSNBC in early February, 2018, pronouncing Russia “a hostile foreign power” whose 2016 meddling was the “equivalent” of Pearl Harbor, “very much on par” with the “seriousness” of the 1941 attack in Hawaii that helped prompt four years of U.S. involvement in a world war.

With the Democrats, under Joe Biden, just weeks away from assuming control of the White House and the U.S. military and foreign policy that goes along with it, the discourse from them and their media allies about Russia is becoming even more unhinged and dangerous. Moscow’s alleged responsibility for the recently revealed, multi-pronged hack of U.S. Government agencies and various corporate servers is asserted — despite not a shred of evidence, literally, having yet been presented — as not merely proven fact, but as so obviously true that it is off-limits from doubt or questioning.

Any questioning of this claim will be instantly vilified by the Democrats’ extremely militaristic media spokespeople as virtual treason. “Now the president is not just silent on Russia and the hack. He is deliberately running defense for the Kremlin by contradicting his own Secretary of State on Russian responsibility,” pronounced CNN’s national security reporter Jim Sciutto, who last week depicted Trump’s attempted troop withdrawal from Syria and Germany as “ceding territory” and furnishing “gifts” to Putin. More alarmingly, both the rhetoric to describe the hack and the retaliation being threatened are rapidly spiraling out of control.

Democrats (along with some Republicans long obsessed with The Russian Threat, such as Mitt Romney) are casting the latest alleged hack by Moscow in the most melodramatic terms possible, ensuring that Biden will enter the White House with tensions sky-high with Russia and facing heavy pressure to retaliate aggressively. Biden’s top national security advisers and now Biden himself have, with no evidence shown to the public, repeatedly threatened aggressive retaliation against the country with the world’s second-largest nuclear stockpile.

Congressman Jason Crow (D-CO) — one of the pro-war Democrats on the House Armed Services Committee who earlier this year joined with Rep. Liz Cheney (R-WY) to block Trump’s plan to withdraw troops from Afghanistan — announced: “this could be our modern day, cyber equivalent of Pearl Harbor,” adding: “Our nation is under assault.” The second-ranking Senate Democrat, Dick Durbin (D-IL), pronounced: “This is virtually a declaration of war by Russia."

Meanwhile, Sen. Mitt Romney (R-UT), who has for years been casting Russia as a grave threat to the U.S. while Democrats mocked him as a relic of the Cold War (before they copied and then surpassed him), described the latest hack as “the equivalent of Russian bombers flying undetected over the entire country.” The GOP’s 2012 presidential nominee also blasted Trump for his failure to be “aggressively speaking out and protesting and taking punitive action,” though — like virtually every prominent figure demanding tough “retaliation” — Romney failed to specify what he had in mind that would be sufficient retaliation for “the equivalent of Russian bombers flying undetected over the entire country.”

For those keeping track at home: that’s two separate “Pearl Harbors” in less than four years from Moscow (or, if you prefer, one Pearl Harbor and one 9/11). If Democrats actually believe that, it stands to reason that they will be eager to embrace a policy of belligerence and aggression toward Russia. Many of them are demanding this outright, mocking Trump for failing to attack Russia — despite no evidence that they were responsible — while their well-trained liberal flock is suggesting that the non-response constitutes some form of “high treason.”

Indeed, the Biden team has been signalling that they intend to quickly fulfill demands for aggressive retaliation. The New York Times reported on Tuesday that Biden “accused President Trump [] of ‘irrational downplaying’” of the hack while “warning Russia that he would not allow the intrusion to ‘go unanswered’ after he takes office.” Biden emphasized that once the intelligence assessment is complete, “we will respond, and probably respond in kind.”

Threats and retaliation between the U.S. and Russia are always dangerous, but particularly so now. One of the key nuclear arms agreements between the two nuclear-armed nations, the New START treaty, will expire in February unless Putin and Biden can successfully negotiate a renewal: sixteen days after Biden is scheduled to take office. “That will force Mr. Biden to strike a deal to prevent one threat — a nuclear arms race — while simultaneously threatening retaliation on another,” observed the Times. 

This escalating rhetoric from Washington about Russia, and the resulting climate of heightened tensions, are dangerous in the extreme. They are also based in numerous myths, deceits and falsehoods:

First, absolutely no evidence of any kind has been presented to suggest, let alone prove, that Russia is responsible for these hacks. It goes without saying that it is perfectly plausible that Russia could have done this: it’s the sort of thing that every large power from China and Iran to the U.S. and Russia have the capability to do and wield against virtually every other country including one another.

But if we learned nothing else over the last several decades, we should know that accepting claims that emanate from the U.S. intelligence community about adversaries without a shred of evidence is madness of the highest order. We just had a glaring reminder of the importance of this rule: just weeks before the election, countless mainstream media outlets laundered and endorsed the utterly false claim that the documents from Hunter Biden’s laptop were “Russian disinformation,” only for officials to acknowledge once the harm was done that there was no evidence — zero — of Russian involvement.

Yet that is exactly what the overwhelming bulk of media outlets are doing again: asserting that Russia is behind these hacks despite having no evidence of its truth. The New York Times’ Michael Barbaro, host of the paper’s popular The Daily podcast, asked his colleague, national security reporter David Sanger, what evidence exists to assert that Russia did this. As Barbaro put it, even Sanger is “allowing that early conclusions could all be wrong, but that it's doubtful.” Indeed, Sanger acknowledged to Barbaro that they have no proof, asserting instead that the basis on which he is relying is that Russia possesses the sophistication to carry out such a hack (as do several other nation-states), along with claiming that the hack has what he calls the “markings” of Russian hackers.

But this tactic was exactly the same one used by former intelligence officials, echoed by these same media outlets, to circulate the false pre-election claim that the documents from Hunter Biden’s laptop were “Russian disinformation”: namely, they pronounced in lockstep, the material from Hunter’s laptop “has all the classic earmarks of a Russian information operation.” This was also exactly the same tactic used by the U.S. intelligence community in 2001 to falsely blame Iraq for the anthrax attacks, claiming that their chemical analysis revealed a substance that was “a trademark of the Iraqi biological weapons program.”

These media outlets will, if pressed, acknowledge their lack of proof that Russia did this. Despite this admitted lack of proof, media outlets are repeatedly stating Russian responsibility as proven fact.

“Scope of Russian Hacking Becomes Clear: Multiple U.S. Agencies Were Hit,” one New York Times headline proclaimed, and the first line of that article, co-written by Sanger, stated definitively: “The scope of a hacking engineered by one of Russia’s premier intelligence agencies became clearer on Monday.” The Washington Post deluged the public with identically certain headlines:

Nobody in the government has been as definitive in asserting Russian responsibility as corporate media outlets. Even Trump’s hawkish Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo, crafted his accusation against Moscow with caveats and uncertainty: “I think it’s the case that now we can say pretty clearly that it was the Russians that engaged in this activity.”

If actual evidence ultimately emerges demonstrating Russian responsibility, it would not alter how dangerous it is that — less than twenty years after the Iraq WMD debacle and less than a couple of years after media endorsement of endless Russiagate falsehoods — the most influential media outlets continue to mindlessly peddle as Truth whatever the intelligence community feeds them, without the need to see any evidence that what they’re claiming is actually true. Even more alarmingly, large sectors of the public that venerate these outlets continue to believe that what they hear from them must be true, no matter how many times they betray that trust. The ease with which the CIA can disseminate whatever messaging it wants through friendly media outlets is stunning.

Second, the very idea that this hack could be compared to rogue and wildly aberrational events such as Pearl Harbor or the 9/11 attack is utterly laughable on its face. One has to be drowning in endless amounts of jingoistic self-delusion to believe that this hack — or, for that matter, the 2016 “election interference” — is a radical departure from international norms as opposed to a perfect reflection of them.

Just as was true of 2016 fake Facebook pages and Twitter bots, it is not an exaggeration to say that the U.S. Government engages in hacking attacks of this sort, and ones far more invasive, against virtually every country on the planet, including Russia, on a weekly basis. That does not mean that this kind of hacking is either justified or unjustified. It does mean, however, that depicting it as some particularly dastardly and incomparably immoral act that requires massive retaliation requires a degree of irrationality and gullibility that is bewildering to behold.

The NSA reporting enabled by Edward Snowden by itself proved that the NSA spies on virtually anyone it can. Indeed, after reviewing the archive back in 2013, I made the decision that I would not report on U.S. hacks of large adversary countries such as China and Russia because it was so commonplace for all of these countries to hack one another as aggressively and intrusively as they could that it  was hardly newsworthy to report on this (the only exception was when there was a substantial reason to view such spying as independently newsworthy, such as Sweden’s partnering with NSA to spy on Russia in direct violation of the denials Swedish officials voiced to their public).

Other news outlets who had access to Snowden documents, particularly The New York Times, were not nearly as circumspect in exposing U.S. spying on large nation-state adversaries. As a result, there is ample proof published by those outlets (sometimes provoking Snowden’s strong objections) that the U.S. does exactly what Russia is alleged to have done here — and far worse.

“Even as the United States made a public case about the dangers of buying from [China’s] Huawei, classified documents show that the National Security Agency was creating its own back doors — directly into Huawei’s networks,” reported The New York Times’ David Sanger and Nicole Perlroth in 2013, adding that “the agency pried its way into the servers in Huawei’s sealed headquarters in Shenzhen, China’s industrial heart.”

In 2013, the Guardian revealed “an NSA attempt to eavesdrop on the Russian leader, Dmitry Medvedev, as his phone calls passed through satellite links to Moscow,” and added: “foreign politicians and officials who took part in two G20 summit meetings in London in 2009 had their computers monitored and their phone calls intercepted on the instructions of their British government hosts.” Meanwhile, “Sweden has been a key partner for the United States in spying on Russia and its leadership, Swedish television said on Thursday,” noted Reuters, citing what one NSA document described as “a unique collection on high-priority Russian targets, such as leadership, internal politics.”

Other reports revealed that the U.S. had hacked into the Brazilian telecommunications system to collect data on the whole population, and was spying on Brazil’s key leaders (including then-President Dilma Rousseff) as well as its most important companies such as its oil giant Petrobras and its Ministry of Mines and Energy. The Washington Post reported: “The National Security Agency is gathering nearly 5 billion records a day on the whereabouts of cellphones around the world, according to top-secret documents and interviews with U.S. intelligence officials, enabling the agency to track the movements of individuals — and map their relationships — in ways that would have been previously unimaginable.” And on and on.

[One amazing though under-appreciated episode related to all this: the same New York Times reporter who revealed the details about massive NSA hacking of Chinese government and industry, Nicole Perlroth, subsequently urged (in tweets she has now deleted) that Snowden not be pardoned on the ground that, according to her, he revealed legitimate NSA spying on U.S. adversaries. In reality, it was actually she, Perlorth, not Snowden, who chose to expose NSA spying on China, provoking Snowden’s angry objections when she did so based on his view this was a violation of the framework he created for what should and should not be revealed; in other words, not only did Perlroth urge the criminal prosecution of a source on which she herself relied, an absolutely astonishing thing for any reporter to do, but so much worse, she did so by falsely accusing that source of doing something that she, Perlroth, had done herself: namely, reveal extensive U.S. hacking of China].

What all of this makes demonstrably clear is that only the most deluded and uninformed person could believe that Russian hacking of U.S. agencies and corporations — if it happened — is anything other than totally normal and common behavior between these countries. Harvard Law Professor and former Bush DOJ official Jack Goldsmith, reviewing growing demands for retaliation, wrote in an excellent article last week entitled “Self-Delusion on the Russia Hack: The U.S. regularly hacks foreign governmental computer systems on a massive scale”:

The lack of self-awareness in these and similar reactions to the Russia breach is astounding. The U.S. government has no principled basis to complain about the Russia hack, much less retaliate for it with military means, since the U.S. government hacks foreign government networks on a huge scale every day. Indeed, a military response to the Russian hack would violate international law . . . .

As the revelations from leaks of information from Edward Snowden made plain, the United States regularly penetrates foreign governmental computer systems on a massive scale, often (as in the Russia hack) with the unwitting assistance of the private sector, for purposes of spying. It is almost certainly the world’s leader in this practice, probably by a lot. The Snowden documents suggested as much, as does the NSA’s probable budget. In 2016, after noting “problems with cyber intrusions from Russia,” Obama boasted that the United States has “more capacity than anybody … offensively” . . . .

Because of its own practices, the U.S. government has traditionally accepted the legitimacy of foreign governmental electronic spying in U.S. government networks. After the notorious Chinese hack of the Office of Personnel Management database, then-Director of National Intelligence James Clapper said: “You have to kind of salute the Chinese for what they did. If we had the opportunity to do that, I don't think we'd hesitate for a minute.” The same Russian agency that appears to have carried out the hack revealed this week also hacked into unclassified emails in the White House and Defense and State Departments in 2014-2015. The Obama administration deemed it traditional espionage and did not retaliate. “It was information collection, which is what nation states—including the United States—do,” said Obama administration cybersecurity coordinator Michael Daniel this week.

But over the last four years, Americans, particularly those who feed on liberal media outlets, have been drowned in so much mythology about the U.S. and Russia that they have no capacity to critically assess the claims being made, and — just as they were led to believe about “Russia’s 2016 interference in Our Sacred Elections” — are easily convinced that what Russia did is some shocking and extreme crime the likes of which are rarely seen in international relations. In reality, their own government is the undisputed world champion in perpetrating these acts, and has been for years if not decades.

Third, these demands for “retaliation” are so reckless because they are almost always unaccompanied by any specifics. Even if Moscow’s responsibility is demonstrated, what is the U.S. supposed to do in response? If your answer is that they should hack Russia back, rest assured the NSA and CIA are always trying to hack Russia as much as it possibly can, long before this event.

If the answer is more sanctions, that would be just performative and pointless, aside from wildly hypocritical. Any reprisals more severe than that would be beyond reckless, particularly with the need to renew nuclear arms control agreements looming. And if you are someone demanding retaliation, do you believe that Russia, China, Brazil and all the other countries invaded by NSA hackers have the same right of retaliation against the U.S., or does the U.S. occupy a special place with special entitlements that all other countries lack?

What we have here, yet again, is the classic operation of the intelligence community feeding serious accusations about a nuclear-armed power to an eagerly gullible corporate media, with the media mindlessly disseminating it without evidence, all toward ratcheting up tensions between these two nuclear-armed powers and fortifying a mythology of the U.S. as grand victim but never perpetrator.

If you ever find yourself wondering how massive military budgets and a posture of Endless War are seemingly invulnerable to challenge, this pathological behavior — from a now-enduring union of the intelligence community, corporate media outlets, and the Democratic Party — provides one key piece of the puzzle.

Update, Dec. 24, 2020, 7:36 a.m. ET: Although the tweets from The New York Times’ Nicole Perlroth referenced above were deleted by her, as indicated, an alert reader notes that a Politico article at the time referenced part of my exchange with her, one prompted by anger from Washington Post reporters over an editorial by their own paper that argued against a Snowden pardon, even though that paper reported extensively on Snowden’s documents and won a Pulitzer for doing so:

The editorial is nothing if not a good excuse for a Twitter debate. Some journalists continued to air outrage yesterday over the editorial board’s defenestration of Snowden, while others either agreed with the board’s argument or at least defended its right to take a stand that it knew would no doubt rankle many in the Post’s newsroom. In one of the more notable exchanges, New York Times reporter cybersecurity reporter Nicole Perlroth tangled with Glenn Greenwald, who broke the Snowden/NSA story for The Guardian.

Perlroth: “Gotta say I agree w/ wapo. @Snowden leaked tens of thousands of docs that had nothing to do with privacy violations.” http://bit.ly/2cLPeLY

Greenwald: “They can start an august club: Journalists In Favor of Criminal Prosecution For Our Sources” http://bit.ly/2cLLIRz

That’s precisely what I was referencing here. It’s utterly repugnant that Perlroth advocated that her own source be imprisoned on the ground that he leaked documents “that had nothing to do with privacy violations” when it was she, Perlroth, who decided to reveal details of NSA spying on China, angering Snowden in the process. Clicking on the above link to her tweet demonstrates that she since deleted it.

One last point: there is an outstanding op-ed in Thursday’s New York Times about anger over the alleged Russian hack by Paul Kolbe, who served as a senior CIA clandestine operative for 25 years and is now director of the Intelligence Project at Harvard Kennedy School, entitled “With Hacking, the United States Needs to Stop Playing the Victim.” It details that “the United States is, of course, engaged in the same type of operations at an even grander scale” and therefore “it’s time for the United States to stop acting surprised and stop posturing.”

[histoireettralala]

Joachim Murat: his youth in Quercy.

His steps often joined those of Napoleon. Born 250 years ago in Labastide, Marshal of France, the king of Naples remained, all his life, attached to his native land. His native village now bears his name: Labastide-Murat.

Published on August 29, 17 at 16:05, in ActuLot

Joachim Murat en uniforme de sous-lieutenant au 12e Régiment de Chasseurs en 1792 (Age 25), by Jean-Baptiste Paulin Guérin, 1835

His name will later be inscribed on the Arc de Triomphe de l'Etoile. On April 5, 1791, three young people from Quercy (Murat, Bessieres and Ambert), appointed by the Lot Directory to be part of the King's constitutional guard, whose creation has just been voted by the Legislative Assembly, take the road to Paris. Coming from a family of small social status, Murat will reach the highest military glory thanks to the Republican wars and the prestigious imperial epic.

He was born on a causse with unexplored abysses

Joachim Murat was born on March 25, 1767, at La Bastide-Fortunière, a village in the Causse de Gramat. This physical environment has a certain connection with the future King of Naples' life and character. “La Bastide, a small village on the high plateau, looks like a fortress commanding the country. This majestic appearance amidst the drought, the almost desolation of the limestone soil which unexplored abysses hollow out in some places is the very image of Murat's life, a life full of contrasts where the good and the worst intertwine, where the peak honors and glory are next to disasters, mentions Marcel Dupont in his work on Murat. The sometimes violent wind is still a striking image of the marshal's mind, always filled with clouds and where hopes, vast projects, fury and annihilation collide day and night. Here is summarized in a few strokes, the prodigious and fatal destiny of this horseman who would have no equal to descend like a windstorm on the enemy troops.

His mother Jeanne's favorite child

Yet he seemed destined for a peaceful existence. Murat comes from a family that has lived in the town for more than three centuries. They are hard-working peasants, exploiting poor soil in harsh winters. How could a king arise from this modest environment more conducive to the development of country virtues than to warlike exploits?

This required the ardor of his youth, which will never leave him, but also the revolutionary upheaval. His father exploited the lands of "a few enlightened minds" in the village. Not being the owner, he is the manager, receiving earnings proportional to the crops. These are certainly satisfactory because the couple have a large house in the center of the town. This is the mother’s domain. The ground floor has been converted into an inn and the floor is divided between the family apartment and a few rooms for passing guests. This energetic woman who runs the inn is a caring mother. The good Jeanne Loubières, whom he will adore all his life, in fact, makes of the youngest of her eleven children, her favorite. By her constant presence, her desire to provide Joachim with an education, that goes beyond that of his environment, she will shape this son to the point that he will never forget his childhood.

With his curly hair and cheerful face, he's a rowdy kid, sometimes a brawler, as it should be to be respected in this country where endurance is proof of character. His time at La Bastide-Fortunière school made a good impression on his teachers: he is an average student but whose qualities of camaraderie and friendliness are recognized. His loving mother, who has deep religious feelings, thinks that the day will come when young Joachim will enter the Orders and may be parish priest of La Bastide.

His great pleasure is to lead alone the horses to the village trough. At the age when a horse seems formidable to a child, Joachim, who has an unusual vigor, already knows how to subdue them.

An amazing ability to lead

These predispositions did not arouse any suspicion among his parents who obtained a scholarship to send him, at 10 years old, to the Saint-Michel college in Cahors. He will stay there for 8 years. It is there that he will have as a comrade Jean Bessières from Prayssac, a future Marshal of the Empire. An unwavering friendship is born between these two men who would become close to the emperor.

Far from La Bastide, the young Murat discovers unknown horizons which open up new appetites for him. His intelligence is real. But as soon as he crosses the threshold of the class, he takes a singular ascendancy on his comrades, even develops an astonishing capacity to lead. How to blame him? If he goes too far for his age, he knows how to repent, implore and become very sweet again.

His whole life, he will use these weapons. Many contemporaries believe that he is completely sincere. Going from anger to tenderness, from elation to dejection, he is already and will remain, impulsive, even excessive in everything. Not without kindness and generosity.

At 20, he joins the cavalry

At the age of eighteen, he joins the Lazarists' seminar in Toulouse. But wearing the cassock does not make the seminarian. And this handsome young man of 1.85 meters, with a pleasant smile, already leads, outside the establishment, a private life the "good fathers" ignore. Here comes an important moment in Murat's life: his military engagement. It is allowed to think, with Jean Tulard, that after a quarrel, our too fiery seminarian was excluded from the University and dreading his father, takes advantage of the passage of the Cavalry of the Ardennes regiment to sign up for, he says "a life that does not displease him". In fact, the new Chasseur is "thrilled". He quickly stood out for his ability to train the most reticent horses and quickly became sergeant*.

For the simple rider, the days are repetitive and gruelling. After an early awakening (at six o'clock), you must groom sick animals, currycomb and brush them before preparing fodder, water and oats. It is only after this daily work, at ten o'clock that a soup is distributed. Then the upkeep chores of the stables. Strict rules still from the Ancien Régime! Because already Parisian ideas are swarming in the garrisons.

Giving free rein to his temperament, his need to be a leader, Murat, who places a lot of hope in the new ideas, takes the lead of the discontented men of the Regiment. This behavior is little appreciated by his leaders: he is put on permanent leave and expelled from the army. Humiliated, he decides to go back to the Lot. We are in 1789.

Delivery Clerk in Saint-Céré

Very badly received by his father who cuts him off, he returns to Saint-Céré where he is hired as a delivery clerk. For a few months, he was enraged, champing at the bit with impatience, convinced that his place is not here. The villages are buzzing. He became aware of the real state of France, of the mounting demands of the campaigns. Murat takes advantage of this return to his native land to attend and participate in public meetings of local clubs.

The past winter has been harsh and long. The harvest was poor. Lack of food and unemployment strike everywhere. Castles see their dovecote burned down. " Here will be hanged the first inhabitant who will pay the rent to the lord," says a poster from a Cahors merchant. It’s the revolt. Louis XVI summons the Etats Généraux on May 1, 1789 in Versailles. In 1790, for the Fête de la Fédération on July 14, each department must appoint two to three delegates. You can imagine that Murat is volunteering! The sympathetic, sweet talking but proud young man speaks. And it is in Lotois dialect that he expresses himself in cafes, wishing to reach the greatest number. The Revolution is born: Joachim Murat, who is part of the Third Estate by his origins, tries to change public opinion according to events. Every Sunday, he goes to Cahors: he listens, he harangues the crowd. He is on the Montfaucon list and is chosen to represent the Lot department.

The republican patriot leaves for Paris

Murat, 23, can go and explore the capital. It’s the consecration.

A new man is born. After a secular mass celebrated by former Bishop Talleyrand, speeches on the Champ de Mars ignite the crowds. One hundred thousand Parisians came to celebrate the first anniversary of the Capture of the Bastille. A year later, returning to the army, he is appointed to the King's Constitutional Guard, to protect but also to monitor Louis XVI. Indignant, the protester manifests a flawless patriotic commitment, calling himself a "pronounced republican", facing "this hideout of royalists who gravitate around the king". But the wind turns, Robespierre falls. His revolutionary passion almost interrupted his meteoric career. Bitter and worried, he is put on leave and returns for some time to Quercy, "wanting to become a simple plowman again".

Aide de camp

Skeptical about his future, then dejected, Murat quickly reacts, helped by the deputy for Gourdon, Jean-Baptiste Cavaignac, who encourages him to return to Paris. It is on the night of 12 to 13 Vendémiaire (October 5, 1795) that Murat is put in contact with the First Consul who needs him. He orders him to save the Convention threatened by the royalist riot. Forty cannons are placed by Squadron Leader Murat around the Tuileries Castle. Three hundred royalists will be killed. The government of the Republic is saved again. As Tulard points out: "From now on the star of Murat will merge with that of Bonaparte". No more depression, finally power and glory.

Promoted Bonaparte's aide-de-camp, he leaves for the Italian Campaign, direction Marengo. There, "his clothes will be riddled with bullets", but they will know victory.

He becomes Napoleon I's brother-in-law

In 1800, he marries Caroline, the First Consul's youngest sister, becoming the brother-in-law of the future Napoleon I. This marriage will give Murat an outstanding position among the marshals of the Empire. Quickly, he is invited to move to the Château des Tuileries and becomes part of the close entourage of the new master of France.

The rouser of men from the imperial epic will remain kind to his family at La Bastide. Coming from a small inn in Quercy to fly with his squadrons across Europe and into Egypt, Murat seems like a legendary character. Chateaubriand will devote long passages to him in the "Mémoires d'Outre Tombe". He will be admired by Stendhal, Dumas and Balzac. Three words characterize the King of Naples: ardor, ambition and panache. If he remains the most magnificent rouser of men the imperial epic will produce, he will invest much into the Lot whose deputy he will become in 1803.

And he will show kindness for his whole family. Especially for his mother, for whom he will show a deep attachment: he sends her rosaries blessed by the Pope.

The portrait he has done of Jeanne in 1792 will never leave him. It will be with him, in his homes, in his tent during his campaigns and in Naples, in his palace. He will build a castle for his "La Bastide family" in his native village, modeled on the Palais de l'Elysée, where he had resided as governor of Paris.

The King of Naples dies executed on October 13, 1815.

By André Décup

[Translation is mine.

Note: I translated by ‘sergeant’ the grade of Maréchal des Logis, which is its equivalent in the cavalry (and nowadays in the Gendarmerie).

There is no right translation for “entraîneur d’hommes”, I hope “rouser” doesn’t seem too weird in English.]

[tivaholic4]

NCIS High School: Chapter Eight:

The next day, Tony pulled into Ziva’s driveway. Intent on driving her to school instead of her having to ride the bus or walk. He pulled up, put the car in park and got out. As he made his way to her door he remembered last night and they’re conversation. How beautiful she looked in the moonlight. He hadn’t slept the night before as she filled his mind. Something that had been consistent in the last few days. He walked up to her door and paused for a few seconds. Nervous that she would decline his offer or that she would think it was weird.

As soon as he was about to knock, the door swung open revealing Ziva on the other side. His hand was still in the knocking position as he looked at her. Today she was wearing a pair of blue jeans with a cargo jacket and a black shirt. He assumed this would be something that she normally wore in Israel. She still looked beautiful, no matter what she wore. It was about 2 minutes of him looking at her, with his hand still in the air, that he realized that he was staring. She laughed at his facial expression and his frozen posture. His face flushed red and brought his hand down to rest in his pocket. She let out a chuckle and looked at him with her head cocked to the side.

“I..uh...I was wondering... if you wanted a...ride to...school.” He cursed at himself in his head for how much of an idiot he was. He definitely sounded like one, especially around her. He heard Rivka from what he assumed was the kitchen and then a pot hitting the floor, producing a loud bang noise. Ziva turned quickly and rushed to see if her mother was alright, with Tony right behind her. Even though he didn’t know if he was allowed into her house, he wanted to see if Rivka was okay too. His mother had told him that he had a hero’s complex. That he always wanted to help people.

When they made their way to the kitchen they saw Rivka standing with her hand on her forehead. Ziva moved to her, searching for any possible injuries. She spoke in Hebrew to her mother in company as she wanted to make sure everything was good before switching to English.

“(Ima, are you alright?)” Rivka nodded. Rivka switched to English when she saw Tony standing in the doorway.

“Yes, I am alright. Just dropped the pan.” She turned to Tony and a smile made its way on her face.

“Hello, Tony. Sorry for the mess, we are still getting things put away.” She was referring to the boxes still scattered around the house.

“It’s all good. You should see my house.” He let out a chuckle. His mom and dad normally kept the house clean, but recently everybody had been busy either at work, school or other activities to really clean. Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t have a messy room. His mother had always made him keep his room straight. It kind of stuck with him throughout the years. Everybody assumed that since he was a jock there was going to be clothes and things everywhere. But that was just their assumption. Something he laughed at in his head.

At his comment, Rivka smiled and picked up the pan from the ground. Ziva gave him a slight smile and looked down shyly. When Rivka looked back up, she glanced at the clock on the microwave and her eyes went wide.

“You two need to get to school. It’s almost 8:00. Go before you get late.” She practically swatted them out of the house with one of the rags from the kitchen. They made their way out and Ziva started to head towards the sidewalk. Tony stopped in his tracks. Yes, he had a great view of her backside, something that was very much appreciated, but he couldn’t let her walk herself to school when he could drive her. When they were close to being late.

“Hey. I can give you a ride. We’ll get there faster.” Ziva turned around, contemplating her options and figured why the hell not, and made her way to the passenger side of his car. Tony turned the key and the car roared to life. They pulled out of her driveway and pulled up to the school in less than three minutes. They both bolted from the seats, closed the door to the car, and practically ran to their first-period class. Thankfully, they made it with a minute to spare and took their seats. Ziva sat in the seat right next to Tony today, something she quit doing after gym yesterday. Barnes was taking attendance and when he got to Ziva’s name, he mispronounced it. Tony looked up and looked at the man.

“It’s pronounced Dahveed.” He stretched out the name, giving no room for error so the teacher wouldn’t make the mistake again. Ziva turned to look at him as he spoke. She was surprised that he sounded somewhat offended. It was her name, why was he getting bent out of square for it? The teacher nodded at the enthusiastic correction from the student that normally fell asleep in his class, and took in the information as if it was important. He continued down the list and once he was completed, he started their lesson for the day. Several people in the class were looking in their direction. Some glaring, others laughing. The new gossip around the school was that Tony Gibbs had changed. Changed for the new girl. Now they were seeing that it was true. Nobody thought that that would ever change. Some praised him for it, while others started to hate him for it. Not that he cared anyway.

The lesson was actually surprisingly easy for Tony, as he actually made attention to the work. Halfway through the class, Barnes called out that they could complete the rest of the work on their own or they could work with a partner. Ziva was surprised when Tony turned to her and asked if she would be his partner. She gave a slight smile and nodded. They got their work done within 20 minutes, with 15 minutes of class left. They smiled at each other as they looked at each other. Tony couldn’t help but smile. Would it be too early to ask her on a date? Probably as they had been fighting the day before about him being a skirt chaser. He would wait it out. Get to know her better. Let her get to know him better as well. He could ask her to come to their game tomorrow. That wasn’t weird, was it? He didn’t think so. He zoned back in to see Jeanne in the corner whispering to EJ and Zoe and glaring at Ziva. When Jeanne saw that he was looking in that direction, she sat straighter and batted her eyelashes, as if he would drop to his knees for her. No, he wouldn’t. He knew what a real woman was like and she was sitting right next to him. He completely ignored Jeanne’s attempt to get his attention. He looked back at Ziva and smiled at her face. Her nose was scrunched up as she looked at her phone. He noticed it was one of the newer ones that were just released. He knew because he had the same one. And Tim wouldn’t shut up about it.

“You having trouble?” He asked looking at the phone. She looked back up at him with a slight blush on her face.

“Yes. I have never had a phone before. So this is new to me.” Tony looked at her like she was crazy. No phone. A teenager. A teenager with no phone until now. Tony saw this look and gave him a slightly bigger smile.

“My father said that it would interfere with training and language skills. He said it would cause me to be unfocused.” Tony could understand that enough. Apparently Ziva’s dad was a real hardass. Where was he anyway? He had noticed her mother but that was it, did her parents not live together? Was her father still in Israel? Again it was like Ziva could read his mind.

“My father died about 6 months ago. Along with my older brother Ari. It was one of the things that was easier about moving here.” Tony looked at her with sympathy in his eyes. Something Ziva normally didn’t like to see. But with Tony, it made her heart flutter. Not a lot of people have shown genuine care to her in her life. Her mother always had along with her siblings, never her father. It was all about how emotions were a weakness and to never cry as it was a sign that you were the weakest link. Something she never wanted to be.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I couldn’t imagine how hard that would be for you and your mother.” Ziva nodded.

“They were never around because of work. The last needle was when my sister, Tali was killed almost two weeks ago. We wanted to get away from the violence of our country. Get away from the death.” Tony reached over and placed his hand over hers. Squeezing it gently. Giving her a little bit of comfort. Now wasn’t the right time to correct her English. He didn’t know if now was the right time to have this conversation. At the end of math class and sitting at desks. But he let her talk. Something he found himself enjoying. Her voice was soothing. Calming. Something that he could get used to hearing every day. By the time she stopped talking they had moved closer together and were now only about three feet apart. When Tony noticed this, he blushed slightly. No girl had ever made him blush. Had never made him feel butterflies in his stomach. But this was Ziva, he learned in the past few days that she was different, in a good way. He decided he wouldn’t fight the pull that she had on him. Ziva was looking at him in almost the same way. Looking deep into his beautiful green eyes. She was lost in him. Just as he was lost in her.

The bell was what caused them to look away from each other. They both let out a small smile and gathered their things, putting them into their backpacks. They made their way to the door of the classroom, shoulder to shoulder. His shoulder was tingling from hers bumping against his. Little did he know, she felt the same tingle. He didn’t want to walk away from her. He just wanted to stay close and be in their little bubble that nobody else was allowed into. But unfortunately, they had separate classes for this period.

“Do you remember where to go for your next class or do you need me to show you again?” He didn’t want her to get lost, just like he didn’t want her to get lost yesterday. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was jealous when he saw Tim showing Ziva to her last class. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He would never hurt her again.

Ziva knew the way to her next class but she wanted to stay near to Tony. So, she shook her head no, that she needed help finding it again. Something she learned from her father was a photographic memory and a good sense of direction. It had stuck with her since she was around six years old. He nodded his head and smiled, unaware that she was lying about her ability to find her class. They walked again, shoulder to shoulder in the hallway to her Chemistry class, and gained some odd looks from others in the hallway. The walked to her next classroom and he dropped her off and told her he would come after class so they could walk to lunch together. Ziva saw him walk down to the other end of the hallway and then walked into her chemistry class.

Unfortunately, this was the class she shared with the four girls who clearly didn’t like her. She could see them in the back of the class in the corner, whispering to each other and laughing. She took the same seat from yesterday and pulled out her notebook. Chemistry was the type of class that felt like there were endless notes to be written down and remembered. She tuned into the teacher intently and watched as she wrote down things on the whiteboard and thoroughly explained what was being drawn. She liked this teacher. She seemed very kind and seemed like she really cared about the education of her students. About halfway through the class, Ziva felt a buzz in her pocket. She pulled out her new phone and placed it to where the teacher couldn’t see it and saw that it was a text. She didn’t recognize the number. She opened the message and smiled at what she saw.

202-078-1971: Hey, this is Tony. Hope it’s okay I gave you my number. I may have snuck it in when you were having trouble with it.

Ziva (202-112-1982): That is fine, Tony. No trouble at all.

202-078-1971: Oh crap! I gotta go Jacobs saw I had my phone out. Have fun in Chemistry! Lol

Ziva (202-112-1982): See you after class. :)

She didn’t get a reply back which either meant his phone got taken by the teacher or he put it away before he could take it. She noticed that she was still in the clear with her teacher and quickly saved Tony’s number into her phone before putting it back into her pocket. She then tuned back in to see Mrs. Williams handing out a worksheet which she assumed would be today's homework. She had always enjoyed homework. Not because of the work, but because of the distraction it provided from her father. It would be a getaway from her father’s activities. She politely took the piece of paper and saw that it was front and back. Now that she was in America with more freedom, she couldn’t see a reason to enjoy homework. Maybe if it involved Tony. She smiled at that thought. Maybe they could do their homework together. Gosh! Why was she being such a girl? She had never been like this before. She had always put boys last, especially the popular ones. They were always so arrogant and needy where she came from. That seemed to be similar to America. Tony, however, seemed different after he explained himself to her.

The bell rang and her pocket buzzed again. That was...fast.

Tony: I’m in the hallway against the locker. Abby is wondering if you’ll be joining us for lunch. I told her that was up to you.

Ziva smiled at the text. It was sweet but at the same time, friendly. She walked out and saw Tony leaning against the locker just like he said. As she made her way over to him, she could sense someone behind her but shrugged it off seeing as it was a busy hallway. A shoulder collided with hers, shocking her and causing the books in her arm to fall onto the floor. She looked up to see Jeanne and her lackeys laughing as they looked at her and walked away. Tony saw what happened and rushed over to help her pick them up. They both stood up together and were face to face and closer than they expected to be. Tony looked down at her, as there was a significant height difference between them. She was looking up at him and she slightly blushed. Just like Tony, nobody had ever made her blush before. They heard the laughs around them from the fall, but they couldn’t hear them. They were in their world again. Their bubble. After about another minute they both broke eye contact and Ziva stuffed her books into her bag and they headed off to the cafeteria. They were walking closer if that was even possible. She liked being around him. Now that she could see the emotion, what she felt was the real Tony, she felt like she could trust him. She was already starting too.

[fineillsignup]

Bit of a weird question, but how do translators decide which terms to fully translate and which to romanticize? Like the difference between Akatsuki and Red Dawn? Thanks

I love these kinds of questions.

(First off, just a pedant thing because I cannot stop myself from correcting people and ruining friendships, 曉 akatsuki just means “dawn”, not “red dawn”. Also the word is “romanize” not “romanticize”.)

Ok so now the matter of choice. There are several angles to approach this question from.

First, cross-language interaction and communication is inseparable from larger issues of cultural exchange and principles of same. If you look over history, throughout most of history in Europe and East Asia (my knowledge of other areas is more limited, but I believe the pattern holds), cross-cultural communications of all kinds tended to be self-centric.

What I mean is that the names by which peoples called other peoples, other nations, other locations, etc etc, were not concerned with being accurate to the other peoples’ usage, and that’s being charitable. In fact, names for foreign places and peoples are very frequently deliberately offensive.

Hi China, said Japan. Hi dipshit, said China. Could you call us something else, other than dipshit, said Japan? - Bill Wurtz

Or when they do make an attempt to go off of what the foreign people are saying, they pronounce it according to local language rules. For example up until relatively recently, all across Europe everyone pronounced Latin according to their own language’s pronunciation. If /c/ is pronounced with a soft [s], that’s how they’d say it, or if it’s pronounced with a hard [k], etc. That’s how you get English Caesar versus German Kaiser for example. Or they may otherwise adjust the terms. In England they say Spain and in España they say Inglaterra. And this went so far as to also include individual people’s names. When you read European history in English, the names of rulers, for example, are usually given in their English equivalents: Francis, not Franz or Francisco; Joan, not Jeanne or Giovanna.

Lately (like within the past century-ish), the movement has gradually turned towards verbatim (or as close as possible) reproduction of the foreign people’s terminology for the names of places, peoples, and individual persons. This is inseparable from larger issues of anti-colonization; new principles of equity of peoples, nations, and states; and respect for self-determination.

This might seem like a bit of detour from the topic but I don’t think it is, because to a large extent what this is about is localization vs preservation. These two principles are not precisely opposites but they can often be considered on a scale. And the individual translator’s choices are never made in a vacuum.

Another angle is preservation of foreign terms verbatim is often, though I don’t think usually intentionally, a kind of class or insider signifier. This is more clearly seen historically in how middle and upper classes will use terms from the most prestigious language to show their class and education. In England this was French. Across the world nowadays, it is English.

Japanese has a similar prestige in the Japanese pop culture subculture. I have previously spoken approvingly of transliterating Japanese honorifics, so I’m not by any means opposed to transliteration, but I think it’s important to be aware of what the full implications of using a transliteration “just because you can” are. Do I really think a transliteration does a better job of communicating, or am I just trying to show off that I know the source term, or am I even obfuscating the meaning to keep it understandable only by those who are already in the subculture? (Did I use the relatively obscure word ‘obfuscate’ just now because it’s the best verb for the meaning I want to express, or because I’m obnoxious? Baby it’s a two for one deal.)

(Tangent: meme references can also be seen as a kind of insider signifier in this sense. If I say “using transliteration is all according to keikaku,” and you recognize the reference, and you get that teeny warm glow of amusement, where does that little positive feeling come from? Of course, part of the amusement is remembering the absurdity of the original incident, but there is also a pleasure in being affirmed as in the loop.)

Okay, anyone still with me? Back to Naruto.

So, in modern prevailing culture, most proper nouns from foreign sources are transliterated (romanized). A problem arises when the literal meaning of a foreign word that is conventionally transliterated is thematically or narratively important.

Use of parenthetical glosses and translator’s notes is ancient and very common, from “Golgotha, or the place of the skull” in the Bible to “that too is my nindo, my ninja way” in the official Naruto anime dub.

Another important principle in translating that frequently sways me as a translator of Chinese to English is this: If it doesn’t sound stupid in the source language, it should not sound stupid in the target language.

For example: English, culturally/historically, while not absolutely excluding literal objects in place and people names, is frequently biased against it. Names in English that are like Rose and Pearl Harbor are the exception, or in some cases a novelty, such as the very recent popularity of first names like Phoenix, Cannon, or Rebel. It’s worth pointing out also that in many cases these kinds of names are popularly perceived as downmarket (even trashy) or amusing. Lists of funny place names are often things like Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania; Possum Grape, Arkansas; and Big Arm, Montana. This is the case even though many “respectable” names have meanings far more ridiculous than these. No one will laugh if you say your name is Philip; people will laugh if you introduce yourself as Horse Lover. Peter sounds much more respectable than Rock. Mary, Miriam, and Maria are all sweet girls names, even though the literal meaning was Bitter!

Naruto is particularly tricky in this regard because many of its original names do sound funny to native speakers but they don’t sound as weird as they do when translated literally. Uzumaki Naruto, for example, could potentially be selectively over-translated into “Whirlpool Whirlpool”, making him the Moon Moon of shounen heroes. At least Naruto is meant to sound funny in the original; Sarutobi Asuma sounds basically normal in Japanese, but True Tomorrow Monkey Jump sounds like word salad.

Then we get into connotations as well. If Neji were translated to Screw, for example, it would have an unfortunate sexual connotation in English that isn’t there, so that’s another factor that can push towards transliteration.

Now in Naruto translations, including official ones, sometimes use a mix of transliterations and translations for place and organization names. Konoha, the Leaf, the Hidden Leaf Village, and Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves, these are all commonly used. Frequently the place is called by the transliteration Konoha whereas the organization is called the Leaf. ANBU Black Ops is another mix of transliteration and translation/gloss, and when it’s reduced to just ANBU, it feels right because it sounds like an acronym which culturally in English is how these kinds of organizations are usually known (eg MI5, SEALs, etc).

Choices in translation are as much about communicating the feel of the original as the meaning.

Anyway I’ve hit my time limit and I need to go to Costco now. I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface of this topic. Translation is both art and science; it really is a social science, too. This is why machine translation will not replace human translation unless and until AI fully catches up with human sentience.

[fuwafuwamedb]

When will the Forelsket sequel be posted?

Right now, it’s named Kjaerlighet. I believe I mentioned that in the comments section of one of my stories that I was posting after Forelsket ended. 

It’s ready to go, I just don’t want too many stories going at once. I want to let you all enjoy what’s going and see things through to the end. Some people like reading all of an author’s work or multiple works by one author and I think it’s a bit hectic when there’s a lot going at once. Posting all of a multi-chapter story at once is great for short term reading, but I like building the hype. You’ll have to forgive me for that. 

At this time, this story is done, but I’m editing in little bits of Sumerian culture like I did for Forelsket and I am debating that title because sometimes readers can’t figure out how to pronounce my titles (I’m sorry).

It has been a while since we saw anything in that AU and I think some may be eager to read so…

Here’s the first chapter. Consider it like licking the cookie dough spoon before the cookies are baked and out for public consumption. 

Five weeks.

No new changes: no sudden exclamation of a child on the way,no shocked expressions or shouting from the king of heroes. Hakuno didn’t notea thing about herself changing. They laughed, they indulged in baths together.The lot of them bundled themselves in bed when Hakuno was feeling a little bittired.

Gudako watched them all simply enjoy the company of oneanother and sighed.

“Are you thinking about the time in Babylonia again,” Dantesasked, pulling his shirt off as he prepared for bed.

“A little bit.”

Caster had meandered off to Uruk once more, but mostly toalter this and that in the palace. Archer had been trusted with Hakuno for acouple days, but he had successfully built a temple within the palace to go alongsidethe main temple so that he and his other selves would have a better place to takepleasure in their goddess.

Hakuno had smacked him.

Caster had berated him.

Archer had high fived his child and teenaged selves.

The nobleman nodded at her though, dragging her back toreality. “They will find out soon enough. They are very lucky that Gilgamesh’sgood friend is being so kind as to keep it quiet. I cannot imagine what the manwould decide to do if he found that he was allowing Hakuno to run around withhis heir inside of her. Last week’s mission and the wounds that Hakuno receivedwould have been received poorly.”

Gudako nodded, quietly. This was true. It probably wouldhave.

Dantes hummed, “If my Mercedes had been carrying my child, Iwould have wanted to know immediately. I would have wanted to take hersomewhere safe and not risk our child. Too many women lost their babies tohunger or a bad fall. They are fragile things, unable to protect themselves.”

“They are.”

“There is also so much to plan. I do not envy the king ofheroes. Trying to decide where and how the baby will be raised. Will the babebe handled by a servant or will the mother take responsibility for lookingafter the child? Tutoring? Chaldea has many heroes as well as tyrants. It wouldbe unfortunate for the child to be near one of the lesser servants in thisplace. Myself, for example, wonderful, but I would instill upon that child farmore importance upon the bonds that they create and the importance of going afteranyone that wrongs you. That saint, Jeanne , would preach forgiveness. Auseless concept.”

“It is… It is…” She hummed though, glancing towards the door.

Hakuno was the goddess of wine and drink. If she indulgedtoo much… God, if she had Gilgamesh have too much fun with her. Or if theothers got too rough. She had seen bruises on her friend before. All it wouldtake was just a little too much liquor one evening and one of them doingsomething stupid.

Was Enkidu always watching?

“Uh huh.”

Fingers snapped before her face. “Ici! Ici! Gudako. I wasnot saying anything.” The white haired man glared at her. “You are no longerlistening to me, ma Cherie.”

“I’m thinking.”

“I see that you are. It is good. You are going to go andinform them of the little offspring that grows in the woman?”

“Maybe if we just go check on them?”

Edmond didn’t even move, merely gesturing her towards thedoor. “I will await your return, Master. You are making the wise decision, ininforming the young woman that she is carrying the prince or princess withinher. She will be able to prepare and bring the child into this world safely,with more preparation.”

Yeah.

She pressed her lips to the man’s cheek before heading outthe door. Most of the facility had become quiet now. It was the evening. They allwished to merely rest.

Well…

Gudako saw the light pouring forth from the crack in the youngwriter’s room, her lips pursing at the implications.

“Hans! Shakespeare! I swear to god if you’re writing withone another!” She banged on the door, listening to the sounds of curses beforethe light flickered off.

They were going to wait her out.

She stomped, lightening the sound before she stopped.

The light flickered on again.

“HANS!”

A screech came, the two opening the door and peering out ather.

“Bed.”

“Now see here, you wily liver-spotted temptress,” Shakespearebegan.

“We don’t want to go to bed,” Hans informed her in that deepvoice. “We are working on a project together that will require the midnight oilin particular. It is a tale of depth and emotion. It is nothing that can adhereto your absurd sense of daylight hours.”

“I will swaddle you like a five year old,”Gudako warned.

Shakespeare snickered, earning a glare from the young writer.“…We shall adjourn for the night. But we are writing into the night tomorrow.”

“Write me a good formal letter why I should allow it and I’llhave Caster Gil read it.”

Hans groaned. “I hate that man. Shove off, William. She isgoing to be unreasonable.”

The playwright laughed, waltzing off into the hallway anddown the way she had come. No doubt, he and Edmond would find themselvestalking about French and English culture by the time she returned.

Children, the lot of them.

God, Hakuno didn’t even need to worry about whether or notshe could handle a child. Between the surly Hans and the younger versions ofthe servants roaming through this place, she already had the basics of childcarehandled.

Hakuno would be fine.

She was a professional. An absolute expert. There was nodoubt in her mind that she could probably handle whatever little divine shitcame out of that woman.

There was the sound of movement as she turned the corner.The red curtains draped thematically around the doors to Gilgamesh’s chamberswere closed, indicating that the collection of Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and theiryoung master were already enclosed within.

Or were going to be.

A green-haired being stopped just before the curtains,pausing in entering to look over at her. “Gudako? What brings you to thiscorner of the facility?”

“Are the grapes for Hakuno?” Gudako moved closer, avoidingthe question.

“She was hungry, but has been having a time of it. Everytime she wishes for something sweet, her tastebuds have been leading her to bitterthings. It is food cravings, from what my Shamhat has informed me. I thoughtperhaps grapes would not upset her. The grapes we have been getting are less sweetthan usual.”

She nodded.

“But you are here for a reason, I’m assuming?”

“Does Hakuno know that-“

“No.”

Gudako nodded at the blunt response. “Then I’m here to tellher. I think she needs to know-“

Enkidu shook their head. “Do not bother. It is not the besttime to inform her about what is going on. She merely thinks that her midnighteating is starting to cause morning sickness. Her emotions are from Archer andCaster being particularly stubborn with her new role and how often she shouldbe in Uruk.”

“She needs to know, Enkidu. If we don’t tell her-“

“I will tell her when it is time.”

“When is the time?”

The being hummed. “We have begun week six…. I believe weekthirty-nine would be appropriate.” They paused, staring at her. “…I ammonitoring the progress. The child’s soul is slowly forming right now. I knowthe gender and I know of its slowly forming preferences, although it may notrealize itself. I have been keeping Hakuno near Prototype since he is being themost appropriate and has been giving Hakuno a great deal of emotional support.”

“Enkidu!”

She needed to know.

God, she would want to know!

Those green eyes were narrowing though. The being leaned inclose. She couldn’t see anything around the hair and those strangely glowingeyes.

“Do not tell her.”

“…E-Enkidu…”

“She will fret. My friend will fret. They are happy rightnow. They partake in the now of things, leaving the future where it needs to be.If you take that away, I will become quite cross.”

Okay, that was fair, but Gudako shook her head. She gesturedat the door. “If they could just know about-“

“No.”

“Enkidu!”

The being turned her around, giving her a rather rough pushtowards her rooms. “Return to your bed, little master of Chaldea. My masterneeds my attention and needs our silence. Do not think to intrude upon Uruk’sbusiness again. It is my secret to keep and my friend’s future to watch form.”

“Fine.”

“Good night, Gudako.”

“Good night, Enkidu.”

She waited the half second for the being to turn before sheslipped around the curtains, pushing them at the being before she slammedthrough the door.

Caster glanced over from his desk.

Child Gilgamesh, Prototype, and Archer looked up from theircard game.

Hakuno glanced over from the sofa, pouring herself-

“Hakuno, you can’t have that!” Gudako avoided the clay being��sgrasp, hurrying over and taking the goblet of wine from her side.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gudako!”

Oh, but the clay being was coming for her like a freighttrain from hell. She was going to be in for it. That face and that glarepromised a revenge that would have Dantes taking meticulous notes.

“You’re pregnant!”

A silence filled the room.

The weight of fury lifted from the being’s shoulder, leavingthem standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

A snicker.

A snort.

Archer was the first one to begin laughing, shaking his headas the others joined in. The room seemed to have surround sound with the waythey were all laughing. Child Gilgamesh was the first to fall onto his side.Prototype was doing an awkward laugh, blushing at the very idea.

“Hakuno? With child?” Caster paused from his amusement. “Haveyou gone soft? We are all servants here in Chaldea. She is hardly human herself.You may have partaken in Hakuno’s sweet wines and my mother’s conversations ofchildren a bit too often.”

Child Gil nodded. “I went with that idea for two days untilI figured it was wrong. Hakuno is too precious and divine for that. She would havehad to have been blessed by Ishtar for that and that goddess hates Hakuno for messingup her temple. She’s also guilty as hell for her father interrupting thewedding ceremony. She wouldn’t bother!”

Gudako glared over at Enkidu.

“Ask them,” she demanded.

The four blonds looked at the being in matching amusement.

Meanwhile, blessedly, it seemed Hakuno had some sense inthis lot. The woman was closing her eyes, no doubt thinking carefully aboutthis and considering the truth of it. Her attention flickered to her a momentbefore she sat up.

“Oh no.”

Progress.

Thank the gods for Hakuno.

She returned her attention to Enkidu.

“Well?” She prompted. “Tell them.”

The being shook their head.

“Enkidu has known since the conception,” Gudako informedthem. “Knows gender too, from what they told me outside the room. That’s whyHakuno is having food cravings and morning sickness.”

Hakuno was paling.

The Gils were all paling.

Prototype rushed to the bathroom.

Gudako looked around before clapping her hands. “Thank god.”She smiled. “I was thinking about that for like a month. It was a long assmonth too. Like when Hakuno was slashed in the stomach by that dragon lastweek, I was like “yeah, that kid’s a goner” or like when she was knocked intounconsciousness about three weeks back by that boar while working with CuChulainn. I was also like “that kid’s dead.” But now I feel better. We shouldbe good now.”

She plucked a grape from the bowl that Enkidu was stillholding, glancing around at the silent room.

“I feel- SO- good right now. It’s amazing what happens whenthe truth is out there. No wonder Edmond fought for revenge and for the truthabout those other noblemen to be revealed. It just feels so good. I’m gonna gofind him before Shakespeare steals him for an insult contest.”

She waved at them as she headed for the door.

“Just so you know, I am a great namer. I nicknamed Arash “Ozy’sBoom Rocket” and I have been laughing for days about it. Night night!”

The door shut behind her.

And then the sound erupted from within.

[whenfrasermetbeauchamp]

There was a sudden loud hammering at the door. It didn’t sound like knocking, but as though someone really were using a metal-headed hammer to demand admittance. I got to my feet to answer the summons, but without further warning, the door burst open, and a slender imperious figure strode into the room, speaking French in an accent so pronounced and an attitude so furious that I could not follow it all.

“Are you looking for Madame Jeanne?” I managed to put in, seizing a small pause when he stopped to draw breath for more invective. The visitor was a young man of about thirty, slightly built and strikingly handsome, with thick black hair and brows. He glared at me under these, and as he got a good look at me, an extraordinary change went across his face. The brows rose, his black eyes grew huge, and his face went white.

“Milady!” he exclaimed, and flung himself on his knees, embracing me about the thighs as he pressed his face into the cotton shift at crotch level.

“Let go!” I exclaimed, shoving at his shoulders to detach him. “I don’t work here. Let go, I say!”

“Milady!” he was repeating in tones of rapture. “Milady! You have come back! A miracle! God has restored you!”

He looked up at me, smiling as tears streamed down his face. He had large white perfect teeth. Suddenly memory stirred and shifted, showing me the outlines of an urchin’s face beneath the man’s bold visage.

“Fergus!” I said. “Fergus, is that really you? Get up, for God’s sake—let me see you!”

He rose to his feet, but didn’t pause to let me inspect him. He gathered me into a rib-cracking hug, and I clutched him in return, pounding his back in the excitement of seeing him again. He had been ten or so when I last saw him, just before Culloden. Now he was a man, and the stubble of his beard rasped against my cheek.

“I thought I was seeing a ghost!” he exclaimed. “It is really you, then?”

“Yes, it’s me,” I assured him.

“You have seen milord?” he asked excitedly. “He knows you are here?”

“Yes.”

“Oh!” He blinked and stepped back half a pace, as something occurred to him. “But—but what about—” He paused, clearly confused.

“What about what?”

“There ye are! What in the name of God are ye doing up here, Fergus?” Jamie’s tall figure loomed suddenly in the doorway. His eyes widened at the sight of me in my embroidered shift. “Where are your clothes?” he asked. “Never mind,” he said then, waving his hand impatiently as I opened my mouth to answer. “I havena time just now. Come along, Fergus, there’s eighteen ankers of brandy in the alleyway, and the excisemen on my heels!”

And with a thunder of boots on the wooden staircase, they were gone, leaving me alone once more.

— Voyager

Gif: giphy.com, Season Three, Episode Six, October 22, 2017

Gif: tvfanatic.com, Season Three, Episode Six, October 22, 2017

Gif: thebookboyfriendharem.tumblr.com, Season Three, Episode Six, October 22, 2017

Photo: Starz, Season Three, Episode Six, October 22, 2017

Book: Voyager, Diana Gabaldon, 1994

Tumblr: October 17, 2018, WhenFraserMetBeauchamp 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿❤️🇬🇧

WFMB’s Tags: #Outlander #Season Three Episode Six #S3E6 #A. Malcolm #Voyager #Chapter Twenty-Six #Milady! You have come back! A miracle! God has restored you! #Fergus, is that really you? Get up, for God’s sake—let me see you! #Claire Fraser #Jamie Fraser #Fergus Claudel Fraser #152 #101718

[acuppellarp]

We’re excited to announce that Jeanne has decided to level up Theo Carter from a mumu minor character to a main character! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours. 

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Jeanne Age: 25 Timezone: EST Ships: Theo/Chemistry Anti-Ships: Theo/Forced

IC INFO

Full Name: Theodora “Theo” Frances Rose Carter Face Claim: Aimee Carrero Age/Birthday: 27/July 3rd, 1991 Occupation: Personal financial assistant Personality: Cynical, protective, dedicated, judgmental, blunt Hometown: Gilbert, AZ

Bio:

There are a couple key points you should keep in mind when it comes to Theo Carter: one, only legal professionals and her mother are allowed to call her Theodora. Two, she’s the only one allowed to trash talk her brothers and will physically fight anyone who crosses that line. And three, don’t expect anything more than casual indifference from her on a daily basis. Give her a reason to care about what you have to say, or she’ll consider just how much of her time your worth before you’ve finished saying your first sentence.

Theo was the second adopted to Howard and Cecilia Carter, proceeded by her older brother (her mother’s biological nephew) and followed by her younger brother, a little boy adopted as a newborn from Vietnam a few years later. Her parents had been unable to have children of their own, and considered that a sign from God that they were meant to expand their family in the same breath as giving children a chance at a good life. That’s how they came to start the adoption process for Theo before she was even born, having been connected to her biological parents through a mutual friend and agreeing to raise her as their own. It was a closed adoption so Theo knows nothing about the people responsible for giving her life, but she can honestly say it doesn’t cross her mind much. She knows that they were both still teenagers and lacked the financial capabilities to raise her; to Theo, making her a Carter was the best thing they could’ve possibly done for her.

The early years of Theo’s life felt pretty standard, barring the occasional strange look her family would get by people who didn’t understand her hodgepodge of a family. That’s fine though, they didn’t have to understand. The Carter children grew up with a small community of people, all acting as brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles without any legal relationship. As a kid, it seemed perfectly normal, but looking back on it now, and after long talks with her parents, it feels a bit…. well, cult-y is the word Theo would use. Cecilia Carter’s father was a bit of an egomaniac with a charming personality and a hedonistic approach to life, and had been running his own church long before Theo came around. He’d amassed a small but loyal group of followers, including three wives and seventeen children including Theo’s mother. Cecilia and Howard had a massive falling out with the group over money and morality when Theo was eight, and because it had been such a tightly-knit community lead by her grandfather, the whole family was ostracized. Realizing that they were effectively exiled from their only friends and family in Arizona, the Carter parents decided to start over far far away. They settled in New York City after some deliberation

Most decent parents will tell their children that they can be anything they want when they grow up purely for the encouragement rather than an actual possibility, but Theo really could have been anything she wanted. To say she was a smart kid would be an understatement; she was labeled advanced pretty much her first day of kindergarten and continued to excel throughout her school career. She would soak up information like a sponge, and if there was something that the people around her couldn’t explain to her, she would go out and find answers on her own. Moving to New York and finding herself surrounded by more books and culture than anything Arizona could’ve provided her with. While she excelled in most areas, she found herself most caring for math, music, and literature. It was pretty exemplary of her as a person that she maintained high scores in all her subjects but deliberately put more work into the things she could bring herself to care about. If she doesn’t love something, why would she bother giving it her all versus the bare minimum?

She was bumped up more than one grade as a child and ultimately graduated high school at 16, college at 19, and had her master’s degree in accounting by the time she was 21. It’s probably a cliche that she fell into a career that circled around numbers, but it really was the obvious choice. Humanities and social sciences never mattered to her much. Facts, numbers, music, and words were reliable and definitive, much more than people and their feelings could ever be. Even with her genius level intelligence, Theo is well aware of her own strengths. Measurable things, yes. People? Not so much. A therapist might say that she has an innate need for control in all aspects of her life, and the unpredictability of humans goes against that. Ask Theo though, and she’ll tell you that she simply doesn’t have time to deal with others. She’s a busy woman.

After graduating with her master’s degree, Theo became a CPA and was hired in at an accounting firm for some of New York City’s best. She isn’t in love with her job, but she’s good at it and it gives her a steady regularity that brings her comfort though she won’t admit that. She’s briefly considered getting a PhD, solely so people will have to address her as Dr. Carter, but jury is currently out on if that’ll give her something resembling joy. Right now, she’s stagnant, and stagnant for her means content. Work, her mini passions, and coffee are all she needs right now. Ask her if that’s still all she needs in five years time, because she’s not quite sure on that part.

Pets: A black and white rabbit named Oreo Speedwagon. The little guy mostly sticks to Theo’s room when he’s out and hoppin’ about, but Theo has told him it’s okay to bite on contact if anyone thinks about entering her premises.

Relationships:

Lola Alvarez — Theo and Lola aren’t actually related, but after knowing each other for what feels like forever, Lola is Theo’s sister in every way that counts. Lola is the one person outside of her family that Theo will defend with everything she has, and Theo trusts Lola to drag her out of her apartment should she start becoming too much of a hermit. The fact that she trusts Lola at all speaks volumes; she just hopes Lola recognizes her own worth as much as Theo recognizes it.

Blair Anderson — Theo and Blair lived together for the length of a leasing contract years ago. Somehow, despite Blair being what Theo categorizes as “sickeningly sweet”, she managed not to want to kill on a daily basis. In fact, she’d go so far as to call Blair a pleasure. Well, she said that once when no one was around to hear it, but it still counts. She appreciated Blair’s ear and passion for music, one of the few things other than numbers that Theo cares about. Theo moved out a while ago, but she still enjoys catching up with Blair if the two bump into each other from time to time.

EXTRA INFO

theo carter/@ohnotheo/let me make you rich:

Five latest tweets:

@ohnotheo: if you pronounce cabinet w/ three syllables, you’re part of the problem @ohnotheo: a girl in my niece’s class said she was uncool bc she doesn’t have fingerlings so now we’re boycotting some 5 yr old named ashlynn #cancelled #passiton #ashlynnisntaname @ohnotheo: someone - i really relate to holden caufield. me - deletes their number, chucks phone off a bridge @ohnotheo: binge watched tua, i guess i’m now the proud mother of six and the regretful mother of one #guesswhichone @ohnotheo: monthly prayer circle for betty white’s immortality, my place tonight @ 7

[hooliganpearl]

15 questions and 15 mutuals

1) Are you named after anyone? Yes actually! Legally speaking Jeanne is my middle name, which is also my grandma's name, just pronounced differently lol.

2) When did you last cry? Uh yesterday I think? I get very emotional easily and cry when I'm happy or sad or really mad I'm just a crier okay? Now that I think about it I got mad today and started tearing up haha

3) Do you have/want kids? Yes!!! I love kiddos!!! I want two babies

4) Do you use sarcasm? Uh well sometimes I try to and people take me literally and other times I'll be completely genuine and they'll think I'm being sarcastic.. I don't use it a lot cause I'm bad at it lol

5) What do you first notice about people? This is a hard question! I don't really know? I think their voice and eyes? Hm idk. It might be their body language because I'm a very physically expressive person and I like it when people gesticulate too

6) What is your eye color? Blue-green? Not to be that person but yeah

7) Scary movie or happy ending? Happy ending I'm a baby and a sucker for happy movies

8) Special talents? Uhh idk? I can eat.. a LOT. Uh I can throw a water polo ball really far and still fairly accurately? I can swim a fifty (a full lap there and back in a pool) in one breath? Idk?

9) Where were you born? 'Murica (California specifically)

10) Hobbies? I like reading and photography and listening to music like most people lmao but! I also just really love being outside like I like playing sports and I like hiking and I really want to learn how to play the guitar so I can serenade my gf on camping trips

11) Any pets? Yes! So many haha.. three dogs (yellow labs, Annie, Winston, and Lily) two cats (outside cats, Mini-Me and Rey) a rabbit (we just call her Bunny, Buns, and Rabbit lol) and a pig (he is very large. And hairy. His name is Atom)

12) What sports have you played/do you play? Well like every kid I played soccer from first to like fifth grade lol and I also tried some of the sports at my elementary like volleyball and cross country I believe? I also played softball for 11 years and I played water polo for 10 1/2? Idk it's hard to tell when there's multiple seasons in a year lol. Sports were my life oof.. I also did swim for two years during high school which I'm about to graduate ahhhh

13) Height? 5'11" and wish I was 6 foot

14) Favorite subject? Science and history!

15) Dream job? Wildlife/nature photographer for National Geographic!!!

Okay I cannot think of 15 mutuals TBH so if you're my mutual and you wanna do this I tagged you

[hellzeldagirlsfanfic]

To Regain What I Lost Chapter 4 Part 1

It was late into the night, about ten-ish. Caster stood on the cliff overlooking the road where the other Caster would appear. Caster had come up with a plan to take care of the other Caster.

The plan had two parts to it. The main part of the plan was to deceive the other Caster by using an illusion of Saber and her master. Whiles he was distracted by the illusion she would then trap him then she would finish him off. The other part was a distraction for Saber and her master so they wouldn't interrupt her 'battle'.

All of the preparation had been done beforehand, all Caster needed was for the other Caster to appear.

Caster waited patiently for the moment she could put her plan into motion. Caster felt someone appear next to her.

"Hello Assassin, how may I help you?" She asked him.

"Just here to fill you in about Saber's and Lancer's battle," He answered.

Caster crouched down, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"I know most of what happened," She told him. "I had one of my familiars watching the battle. Though there are some things she couldn't pick up,"

"I am very happy to fill in the blanks for you," Assassin offered.

"Thank you, Assassin," She thanked him. "What was Rider's name? My familiar couldn't pronounce it," Caster asked.

"Iskandar," Assassin simply answered.

There was a brief moment of silence before Caster spoke.

"Please tell me that's a joke?" She asked.

"Unfortunately not," he replied. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Caster stared into the night sky before she answered Assassin.

"I used to read a lot about Alexander the Great as a child. I guess I have a heavy romanticize version of him. I didn't think he is someone who goes head first into battle without a plan," She explained.

Assassin hummed. "Anything else?"

"Could you explain Berserker's Noble Phantasm?" She asked.

"It seems like anything Berserker touches become his Noble Phantasm. I'm not sure it extends to other Noble Phantasm," Assassin explained.

Caster hummed in reply. Taking in the information and running it against her knowledge of different heroes she had read about. There wasn't much to work off since Berserker's appearance was brief, Ouse couldn't give a detail description of him.

Her thoughts were stopped by an unfamiliar presence. Caster focuses her eyes back onto the road. She could make out the figure of the other Caster on the road, waiting for Saber to come. Standing up, she nodded to Assassin signalling to him that it was time for her to put her plan into motion.

Moving to the edge of the cliff, Caster took a deep breath before proceeding forward.

'Yae, Sae are you ready' She asked.

'Yes Matilda,' The twins answered in the union.

Caster nodded to herself.

"This man who’s maddened by his desires, allow them to become reality. Weave and fabricate his desire into an illusion," Caster commanded her spell.

There was a brief moment before the sound of screeching tyres could be heard from up the road.

From one of the corners of the road came a silver Mercedes-Benz 300SL at a ridiculously fast speed. It continued at its fast-pace before stopping abruptly a couple meters in front of the other Caster.

The silver Mercedes' doors opened and Saber and her master stepped out. Both of them made their way to the front of the car, coming face to face with the other Caster. Saber stood slightly more in front of her master to protect her from the unknown servant.

The other Caster bowed to them crossing one of his arms across his body.

"I have come for you, my sweet and holy virgin," he said as he bowed. "Do you know this man," Saber's master inquired.

"I've never laid eyes on him," She answered honestly.

During this exchange of words Caster sneaked behind the silver car, waiting for the perfect moment to launch her attack.

"Oh no!" The other Caster cried out. "Are you saying you've forgotten my face?" he desperately asked.

"Forgotten you?" Saber repeated, stepping forward a bit. "I've never met you in my life. You mistake me for another," Saber told him.

The other Caster grabbed his hair and let out a small scream. "It's me, Gilles de Rais!" He cried out again, putting his left hand over his heart. "I have prayed for your resurrection and have been waiting for a miracle to reunite us. To that end I've come all this way to the end of time, my Jeanne," Caster rambled.

During his madden rambling the other Caster let loose his true identity. Gilles de Rais. That name fills Caster with a sickening hatred. She read about his heroic deeds during the Hundred Years War, as well as the story of Bluebeard.

"Who is Joanne?" Irisviel asked.

"I don't know your name I insure you. Nor have I any idea who this Joanne might be," Saber told him.

"No," Gilles whispered. "No, you've can't of forgotten, not your former identity," He asked.

"As you have deemed it fit to give me your name, I must in keeping with the chivalry code give mine. My name is Artoria, the heir to Uther Pendragon and King of Britain. I enter this battle in the saber class," Saber told him.

"Oh no! It's so very sad! She lost her memory and gone completely insane!" Gilles cried out once again. Gilles started screaming to God about how cruel he was while Gilles was hitting the ground with a fist.

Caster took this opportunity to trap Gilles. She abruptly cut off the illusion of catching Gilles off guard by this action. Using the moment of confusion to trap him. Caster uses the hair that she had placed around where Gilles stood, trapping him in a cocoon restraint.

"What is this!?" Gilles screamed.

"My trap. You have fallen right into it, Monsieur de Rais," Caster told him.

"Who are you!? What did you do with my fair Joanne!?" Gilles screeched.

"I'm Caster and Saber wasn't really there. It was all an illusion that I created so I could kill you," She told him.

"You liar! I am Caster of this Grail War!" Gilles screeched. "And how dare you use my fair Joanne like that!"

"Sorry to inform you but the Grail has decided to allow two Casters to be summoned in this war," She informed him. "As you can guess, there can be only one of us," She stated.

Gilles screamed and struggled against the hair-band restraint. Caster raised her right hand, calling the ends of her hairs to it. Once all the ends had gathered in her hand, she gave them a good old tug, tightening the hold of the cocoon. Gilles was still able to breathe properly but the hold was unbearable.

"Who is your Master?" Caster questions him.

"I will never tell you who my Master is! You Witch!" Gilles continued to screech.

Caster stood unaffected by Gilles screeching. She wrapped her hair around her hand and once again tugging on the hair, making the cocoon even tighter. Gilles now found it hard to breathe. He began to struggle even more against the restraints.

As Caster was about to talk again, she felt a presence of something about to attack her. Caster quickly jumped out of its way and activated her clairvoyance. Her clairvoyance shows her that something else would also try and attack her. Caster pumped mana to her feet, this would allow her to jump to have more power to it. She proceeded to jump onto the side of the cliff.

Looking back at the road to see what had attacked her, she was greeted with a strange site.

The creators- if you could call them that- looked like mutant starfish. Caster couldn't make out much detail about the creators' appearance since the lighting on the road was poor. From the energy, their bodies were giving off they were some kind of demon.

Caster could feel the threads of her hair being tugged. She looked back over at Gilles, who was now struggling more intensely against her hair. Noticing that Gilles was trapped, one of the creators jumped onto the strands connecting Caster to the cocoon while the other attached itself to the cocoon.

The creators tore through the hair freeing Gilles from his binds. Once he was free, Gilles reached inside of his cloak and pulled out a grimoire.

"You witch! I'll destroy you!" Gilles screeched.

A smirk spread across Caster's face.

"If it's a fight you want, I'll be happy to oblige," she said.

Caster ran her hand through her hair, pulling out some of her white hair. The strands of hair wrapped themselves around three of her fingers. Pouring more mana back into her legs Caster then jumped into the forest next to the road. As she passes Gilles some of her hair wrapped around his ankle pulling him into the forest as well. ***

Irisviel and Saber came rushing down the mountain road, heading back to Einzbern Castle.

Saber sat tensely in the passenger seat as Irisviel drove wildly around the corner.

"See! See! I told you so!" Irisviel happily said. "This car takes the turns really fast!"

"W-Well, that because your surprisingly a good driver," Saber nervously complimented Irisviel.

They came speeding over a bump in the road lifting the car and them into the air for a moment. This cause Saber a moment of fright.

"I know! You may not believe it but I practice all the time," Irisviel told Saber as she changed gears. "Of all the toys Kiritsugu has brought me over the years, this is my absolute favourite!" She confessed.

"Th-This is a toy?" Saber nervously asked.

Irisviel increased the speed, making the car go faster down the road.

"At the castle, I was only allowed to drive around the courtyard so, this is great!"

"Shouldn't we hired a professional driver?" Saber asked.

"No, that would be boring- I mean, it could be dangerous. What if the enemy were to suddenly launch attacked against us," Irisviel quickly bluffed out.

"Well, I suppose you have a point but-" Saber was interrupted when Irisviel slammed down on the breaks.

The car came screeching to a halt. Saber quickly looked over at Irisviel to see if she was fine -which she was,- before looking out of the window.

In front of the car like deer in the headlight, were two girls around the age of sixteen. The girls were identical to each, other most likely twins. They had dark browns hair that falls around their necks. They had walnut brown eyes. The girls were both wearing the same type of clothing, low tortilla brown swing coats with cedar brown knee length boots along with white woollen scarves.

One of the girls stood in front of the other, trying to protect the other girl whiles the other was clinging to the other.

The girls weren't servants or magus, just normal girls but what were they doing all the way out here this late at night.

"Irisviel stays here, I'll deal with the girls," Saber told her stepping out of the car.

Saber made her way to the front of the car where the girls were, now facing her as she came around. They cowered away from Saber when she reaches them.

"Are the two of you alright?" Saber asked.

The girl in front replied for both of them. "We're fine, just a bit shaken up,"

"That's good to hear," Saber said. "Why are the two of you here out so late?" she asked.

"Me and my sister were out trying to find some purple mountain flowers. We sort of lost track of time," The girl in front answered.

"And we got lost," Her sister added on.

Saber notices the girl behind was hiding behind her sister like she was afraid of her.

"I could take you back home? We're quite far from Fuyuki," Saber offered.

As they were about to answer, a large explosion came from the forest beside the road. Everyone turned to look at it. Dust rose into the air, it was around five meters long.

There was no doubting it was caused by servants.

Irisviel turned off the car and got out.

"Saber!" Irisviel called out to her.

Saber responded with a nod of the head before heading to the edge of the road. Irisviel now stood in front of the girls.

"We're just going to check out that explosion. You're welcome to wait in the car until we come back," She told them.

Irisviel then went over to Saber who picked her up in bridal fashion then proceeded to jumped down to the forest.

The girls stared at the spot were Saber and Irisviel had just been then turned the stare at the settling dust from the explosion. There was a moment of silence between them before either of them spoke.

"Do you think Matilda will be alright?" The girl in front asked.

"Of course Yae," The girl told her sister, moving closer to the side of the road. "She's powerful, talented and smart, she can find her way out of any situation," she said.

[Part 2]

[Chapter 3 Part 1] * [Chapter 5] * [Prologue]