Oopsie daisies, what an unfortunate and unforeseen outcome to this refugee quest. Whatever will we do now? I suppose all that's left is to consume them out of respect ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Blackdragon is starting work on making some packaged survival meals for the first leg of our journey towards the crashed ship. He's got a level 8 cooking skill with a minor passion for it. A handy colonist to have, for sure.

In other news, Socks is getting along swimmingly with both Laursen and her cellmate Duchess! At some point, Socks has been converted to our cult, but I must have missed it in all the goings-on. We're working to recruit her now.

In a few days, our violent conversion ritual will be ready again, though, so Blackdragon's catgirl fiancee Duchess had best be prepared...

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FFXIVWrite2021 Day 7 Prompt Speculate

Raha found himself pacing restlessly across the floor of the Umbilicus, his mind racing. The Miqo’te had found this room to be the best suited as a central focus to work the Towers systems. So far the first part of the plan worked: the Sycrus Tower had successfully crossed the rift and made it to the First. Albeit a hundred years earlier than expected but the Ironworks Engineers had said that their calculations were rough at best given that such a trip had never before been thought of much less achieved.

I may be early but that does afford me some time, he told himself, Time to figure out how in Seven Hells I am going to bring the Warrior of Light here?

He had already determined, thanks to the refugees that had come to him, that the key in banishing the Light was slaying the Light Wardens. He also suspected that their influence was akin to a Primals and therefore the Echo would protect Rhel’a from its corrupting influence. At least he hoped it would. All that remained was figuring out how to pull the Keeper here to the First.

In theory I could use the Tower again to jump to the precise time before the release of the Black Rose he thought but...no that wouldn't work because I cannot guarantee that such a jump could be the exact time giving the variance that has been detected.

“Perhaps I could use the Towers capabilities of travel in some other manner,” he murmured

The question was how? That he could reach Rhel across the rift with the Towers temporal engine he did not doubt but the question was how could he then pull the Miqo’te across the rift at all much less safely.

Raha stopped pacing and flopped down pulling one of the many books he had piled here in the Umbilicus hoping one might give him some spark of inspiration. He felt a pang of grief as he realized that the one he had picked up was one of Rhel’s journals from his travels. Even with this remarkable endeavor leading him to travel well beyond anywhere he had dreamed would be a thing it was still a hard thing to accept that the gentle Keeper was gone.

Shaking his head and shoving down his grief he opened the journal knowing full well that the other Miqo’te’s travels had been vast and maybe just maybe his spark could come from something recorded from them. He began reading one of the passages,

I cannot deny the relief I felt as I saw her appear from that burst of aether. The Seedseer’s and I felt a great sense of triumph that we had managed to have the Elementals recognize her and manage to pull her from the Lifestream. I almost wept with joy as I looked upon Shtola’s prone form. She was alive, she hadn’t given her life to buy me time to escape. Hopefully soon the others could be located as well.

Raha stopped flipping back a few pages to get the full of the information involved with this particular passage,

I can scarcely believe we may have some information on what happened to one of the Scions. It seems that Y’shtola managed to escape from the waterway beneath Ul’dah by means of a spell known as Flow. I had to get Urianger to explain to me exactly what that entailed for I had never heard of it. It was the precursor to the Teleportation spell that is in current use. A far more dangerous one. He seems convinced that she survived its use but is now trapped in the twisting vortex of the Lifestream. But in that there is hope, it seems her aetheric trail led to the Shroud and the Elementals could in theory help us, I hope.

“Flow,” Raha mused, “Hmm, no not it by itself that is too unpredictable. Maybe….portions of it combined with Teleport. But that would require some sort of beacon….”

His ears shot straight up; he had the beacon right here, the Tower itself. The entire thing was a conduit for massive amounts of aether. In theory the Auracite of the Tower could be considered another form of crystal not unlike an Aetheryte.

“But he’d have to attune….wait no he wouldn't.” Excitement began to fill Raha; he may at last be coming up with some form of solution to getting Rhel’a to the First.

The Sycrus Tower had, back in the height of Allag, not only been a beacon that transmitted vast amounts of energy gathered from the sun to the rest of the Empire but also a restricted research facility, one of the most restricted. Therefore anyone entering the Tower would be recorded and documented by the internal systems.

“Not to mention he fought several battles here which means his blood was spilled on parts of the Tower and his aetheric use would have been detected….”

Which meant in theory Rhel’a was already ‘attuned’ to the Tower’s crystal. The internal systems would easily identify and recognize the man’s aetheric and physical signature. Which meant a beacon for the spell to find.

“Now comes the fun part,” the Seeker told himself ruefully, “Forming the spell.”

Setting aside the journal he began digging though the mountain of books he had there in the Umbilicus grateful that he and the Ironworks crew had the forethought to take as many books as could be found on many different subjects. And rejoicing in the fact that thanks to Urangier’s cleverness the wards on the Waking Sands had hidden the place from looters and all of the Scions records and copies from the Sharlyan library had remained there intact. He had of course brought all of those back to the Tower with him and in turn to the First.

He gathered as many books as possible that he had on aetherology and spell work. He had never really been one to use magic much and to be honest had it not been for Krile’s nagging he never really would have tried to get so much as a base knowledge of it.

But, now he was eternally grateful to the Lalafell for her stubbornness and insistence. Had she not been he never would have dared attempting to make much less combine spells for any reason.

Frowning for a moment he also realized that just Teleport and Flow alone may not be enough of a basis to attempt such. He began going through more of the Scion’s old trove of books and realized another piece of the puzzle that might help. The information on how the beastribes summoned their Primals.

“It could be said I am summoning Rhel….” he stated softly, “But in a slightly different manner. I could probably use some of the base structure of a summons with elements of both Flow and Teleport woven in somewhere…”

His voice trailed off as he sat down and began studying all that he had grabbed. This was going to by far be one of the most complex things he had ever attempted. 

 Raha first began brushing up on Aetherology and Magic use in general knowing that his half remembered, cursory knowledge would not be enough to attempt a feat such as this.

“If only you could see me now Krile,” he said sadly, “You would be standing there with that knowing smirk reminding me that you were right all along.”

He regretted not listening more intently to her lectures, it would have made this easier. But he had been a half cocked fool that thought he knew it all and didn't need what would be considered trivial in his opinion.

“And yet I should have known better. After all, all of Allag’s technology was infused with magic in various ways. Hmm I will also have to somehow tie the spell into the workings of the temporal engine….best look at some of the engineering manuals as well….”

He also realized that he would need vast quantities of aether to even attempt this. Which meant he would also have to recalibrate the Tower’s Aetheric Absorption systems. Due to the Lights dominance the aether from the sun would be too feeble to actually call upon.

But, I could reset the Tower to absorb the ambient Light aspected aether that surrounds us in abundance and potentially aid in defending the Tower and the surrounding settlement along with the barriers. If the Light’s influence is weaker it might just help cause trouble for the Eaters and give the Tower ample supplies of energy.

He had a lot of work ahead of him. Attempting to create something he had no way of knowing would even work. But he was not about to let that stop him. He had already known he had an example to look to. One that often made the impossible possible. A man who never gave up no matter how hard the road was.

“And I will save you old friend,” Raha murmured, “Even if it is the last thing I do. For those who sent me here, for those who lamented your loss. For your sake and theirs I will stop the Eight Umbral Calamity.”

Arrival Redo

OKAY SO

VARIANS INITAL ARRIVAL WAS STUPID

SO

THAT DIDNT HAPPEN

THIS HAPPENED INSTEAD

ANY QUESTIONS?NO?GOOD-

HERE

Im not tagging anyone okay-

just-

here

Yes I took inspiration from several fanfictions that I liked

please don't hate me

***

Varian looked down at the ground as he walked. Papers gathered in his arms, lost in thought. Rapunzel had tasked him with making the Dungeon more hospitable for prisoners, after he told her how terrible it was down there.

Being the Royal Engineer, he didn’t have the right to refuse, but he hated working on the project. He only needed to be down there for reference point, he wasn’t the one who would be carrying out the designs (thank god), but every second he was down there was like a weight pressing down on his chest. He constantly felt like he was stuck, like he wouldn’t be able to leave, and this place would be the last he would see. Not to mention the prisoners themselves. One in particular had been making the task nearly unbearable. He tried to ignore him, but the man knew exactly how to get under his skin...

He hadn’t told Rapunzel about his discomfort. It wasn’t up to him to decide which jobs he did and didn’t take on. And she’d been busy lately anyway, even though it’d been months since Zhan Tiri’s attack, they were still rebuilding. The pressure had only increased when her parents announced that they would be retiring soon, and Rapunzel would become queen.

Varian let out a breath, it’s okay, he could do this. He’d survived prison, attempted murder, all kinds of crazy magic, kidnapping, and a demon attack. He could survive this project. Besides, it wa-

Voices cut into his thoughts. Varian paused, looking to his left at a door that was slightly ajar. He weighed his options for a moment, before curiosity got the better of him. He moved to stand next to the door, leaning in to hear what the people inside were saying.

“-ust don’t know what to do, Nigel!” Varian recognized that voice as Rapunzel’s. She sounded frustrated.

“Your majesty, you already know my opinion on the matter.” Nigel’s nasally voice sounded from inside.

“I am not firing him! He’s the best person for the job and you know it! I-I just... he seems so stressed lately, and I don’t know how to help...”

“well, I’m not quite sure how to help with that, but, there is the matter of the letters.”

“We’ve already talked about the letters.”

“Princess, with all due respect, we can’t just ignore them.”

“Yes, we can! Just because a few citizens are upset that, doesn’t mean I’m going to change something that doesn’t need changing! And I want you to make sure that Varian doesn’t hear a single word about them!”

“Your highness, I-“

Varian had heard enough. He stepped into the room. “That I don’t hear a single word about what?”

Rapunzel looked up at her, eyes wide. She was unable to find words.

“The matters of the Princess are none of your concern.” Nigel said with undisguised dislike for the teen in front of him.

“They are if they involve me.” Varian said, crossing his arms.

“Varian I...” Rapunzel started “I-I can’t tell you, but trust me when I say that you’re better off not knowing.”

“Great, so now you’re keeping things from me. Rapunzel, what is this about? What are the letters?”

“I...” she looked away, biting her lip. “...Varian, please...”

“You’re still not going to tell me?! They’re about me, aren’t they?”

Rapunzel looked away, and Varian felt his face heat in anger. He clenched his fists. “Fine! Fine, you’re not going to tell me, that’s fine.”

He turned, moving to storm towards the door.

“Varian-“ Rapunzel tried

“I’ll be in my lab.” He snapped, before slamming the door behind him.

***

Varian sat at a table at his workbench, leaned back and staring at the ceiling, letting the anger wash over him. Yes, he was being unreasonable, but he was sick and tired of being treated like a child, having things be kept from him simply because whomever was in question felt like he couldn’t handle it. Having one of the only people in the world he genuinely trusted do it...

The raccoon curled up on his chest chittered next to him, pressing his furry head into Varian’s cheek in an attempt to comfort him. The fuming boy took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, raising a gloved hand to scratch the ring-tailed bandit behind the ears. Ruddiger made a sound akin to purring in reply.

His lab was nice, to his tastes at least. It was messy, but it helped add to the personality. It’d been gifted to him along with the position of Royal Engineer.

Varian looked up at the sound of the door opening. He’d been expecting Rapunzel, and was surprised when he was met with Nigel instead. Ruddiger moved to curl around Varian’s shoulder’s protectively, narrowing his eyes at the man. The man looked around the cluttered room, distain and disgust easily visible on his face. There was a stack of paper clutched in his hand.

“What do you want?” Varian asked less than politely. He really wasn’t in the mood to bother with protocol.

Nigel moved his eyes to the teen in the chair with distaste. “You wanted to know what was in the letters, so here they are.”

He tossed the stack of papers the the ground next to Varian’s chair. Varian looked from the papers to him, puzzled.

“Wha-“

“If I’m being honest, I agree with every word they say. And, frankly I think a mutt you should follow their advice.” He turned, moving back towards the door. He paused at the doorway, looking back with his eyes narrowed and lips pulled back in a sneer. “By the way, you aren’t fooling anyone with your little drag show, young lady.”

He closed the door before Varian could spit a scathing comment. Ruddiger hissed at the closed door, tail swishing. Varian closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. This wasn’t the first time someone had purposely misgendered him. It shouldn’t effect him this much.

After a moment, he mulled over the first insult he’d used... “mutt” It left a foul taste in his mouth... dehumanizing. He guess it came from the fact that his parents had both been refugees, he wasn’t even Coronian... or, at least not in most people’s eyes. But he’d been born and raised here. To say that he was belonging to any other kingdom would feel wrong. It didn’t matter anyway. He took a deep breath and stood, walking over to the pile of paper.

Ruddiger’s ears flattened against his head, letting out an anxious trill. He pawed at Varian’s face, but Varian ignored him, looking down at the paper at the top of the stack.

“Princess Rapunzel,

As a Citizen, I have stood by all your decisions as Princess and temporary queen except for one. Your decision to pardon two of the kingdom’s most dangerous criminals is something I cannot possibly fathom. At least Cassandra has left the kingdom, but to keep the traitor Varian on staff? It’s honestly horrifying to me and several others. A dangerous criminal like him should be locked in prison or dead, kept away from yourself and your people, not gifted with a position so high in rank. I sincerely hope you take my words into account.

Wishing for the best,

A troubled citizen.”

Varian knew he should stop. He knew that nothing good could come from reading more, but he pressed on, flipping the page and reading the next.

“Varian,”

That was odd. It was addressed to him, why hadn’t he received it? Was the Princess Reading his mail?

“I don’t know what you’ve done to the royal family. Whether you’ve bewitched them or used some kind of mind game, I want you to know that you don’t have everyone fooled. If I were you, I’d turn yourself in or jump off Corona bridge before people discover your true intentions. Lord knows you deserve it after what you’ve done. We’re watching you.“

Varian pressed on. Some were signed, some weren’t (although very few had names attached), some addressed to himself, some to the Princess, a handful were even addressed to the king or queen. Some (he ones that Varian assumed were from old Corona), addressed him by his old name and called him a witch. But, despite the differing methods of explaining it, they all had the same idea; Varian was  a dangerous criminal and shouldn’t be working at the castle.

When he’d finally finished reading, he sat there, numb. He closed his eyes, swallowing. He understood now why the Princess hadn’t wanted to show him. Despite acknowledging the Princess’s reasoning behind her actions, he didn’t regret reading them. Now he knew how people perceived him, now he knew that he had to be more careful.

Shakily, the ravenette stood, raising Ruddiger from where he’d been curled around Varian’s shoulders and placing him on his work chair. The small mammal trilled in worry for his human, tail swishing behind him. Varian gave his friend a small smile. (it was fake, of course, but Varian had become very skilled at making them look convincing as of late)

“It’s okay, buddy, I’m alright. I just need a minute alone... I’m going to take a walk...”

The raccoon reluctantly curled into a ball, still looking up at his human with concern as he turned, grabbed the backpack he kept with himself at all times when going out, and walked towards the door

The castle was relatively quiet, most people who usually resides here were out enjoying the beautiful day. Light filtered through the stained glass windows built into the wall. Varian had never re-adjusted to the light level of the capital. It was nicknamed the kingdom of the sun for a reason, but after the crushing darkness of the dungeon beneath his feet, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to take the brightness for granted again.

As he stepped out into the courtyard, several guards waved at him. He nervously waved back, anxiety bubbling in his chest at the sight of the uniform they wore. Eugene had given it a name... what was it? Fear of authority? That sounded right... strangely enough, Eugene was the only person in uniform that he wasn’t scared of.

He made his way through the capital, people around him going about their business. Their reactions to him were diverse, some smiled and waved, some sent glares his way, some ignored him completely. Varian kept his eyes fixed on the ground, trying to make himself small.

Eventually, he made it outside the main city. He walked across the bridge, keeping one hand on the railing. He paused in the center, eyes lingering on where he’d stood only a few months ago, looking down at the water as his form shook, trying to force himself to move forward.

He shook himself out of the memory, he was in a better place now. Sure, he still had the occasional depressive episode or panic attack, but he had been doing great considering all that had happened to him.

He stepped off the bridge, pausing a moment to decide whether he should keep going along the path or walk through the forest. He decided that the latter would be more interesting and started walking slightly to the left.

Because of Varian’s tendency to spend hours or even days locked in his room and his fascination with technology, one could guess that he wasn’t a nature person. But, in reality, the opposite was true. Varian was quite fond of the outdoors and of nature itself. He’d always been better with animals than he was with people, and a walk through the forest had always been his second favorite way to calm himself down (the first being alchemy, but even the idea itself was tiring to him at the moment). He sighed, closing his eyes and letting the sounds and feelings of the forest wash over him.

He wasn’t upset. The people who wrote the letters were justified on their feelings. He’d attacked the kingdom, tried to kill its leaders, been sent to prison, escaped with a Saporian terrorist, and taken over the kingdom. Then, in what must have seemed like the blink of an eye to them, Rapunzel had returned, completely pardoned him for everything he’d done, and been rewarded with a position of high honor. No wonder they were suspicious of him.

No, he wasn’t upset that multiple of them had told him to kill himself, or that he should be back in the prison he now hated with every fiber of his being.

He definitely wasn’t.

As for Rapunzel, he wasn’t angry at her. He knew her. She could be scarily protective when she needed to be, and she saw it as her duty to keep Varian safe. Emotionally and physically. He had no right to be angry that she’d read his mail, kept something as big as this from him, and still hadn’t fired that good-for-nothing advisor.

Since his recovery, he’d learned to keep all negative emotions under lock and key. Especially anger, now that he knew how quickly it could spiral out of control. So he knew that that definitely wasn’t what he was feeling as he walked deeper and deeper into the thickening trees.

It was precisely thirteen seconds after the teen decided that he was under no circumstances angry at Corona, its people, or its Princess, that he found himself falling.

Sorry if you've answered this question before, but I was wondering what choices that can be made from the past three games do you think will have the biggest impact on DA4? Personally I think that whether or not Morrigan has old god Kieran will be important considering his scene with Flemythal and the subsequent Solas and Flemythal scene at the end of Inquisition.

Hi Nonnie, I don’t remember answering one like it recently so not to worry. :) Ooh this is a great question, thanks. Let’s see. Cut for length. warning, Tevinter Nights spoilers below cut.

for me this is a tough question! thinking back on the choices we’ve made over the years, browsing the Keep for a refresher, I feel it’s quite a tough call. for one thing, DA4 for me presents a slightly different sort of premise choice impact-wise as a subsequent game compared to that posed by the existing ones. in previous installments we stuck largely around the same areas of the map game-to-game. We went from Ferelden to Ferelden. then we played a Fereldan fleeing Ferelden and what befelled it, to a relatively nearby city-state. we had a Fereldan’s perspective for that whole game, and the city-state filled up with a lot of Fereldan refugees. consequently ~Ferelden~, both in terms of culture and related choices, like Fereldan storybeats, were quite present in DA2. Kirkwall was nearby and Fereldan-filled enough that some of the ripples of things the Warden chose were mentioned, encountered, felt during the game. then ofc we went back to Ferelden. Ferelden combined with Orlais, to be sure, but Ferelden all the same. we’ve been a Fereldan in the Marches and a Marcher in Ferelden. 

moving to the far north, to the distant Imperium and perhaps even beyond.. Tevinter is very culturally distinct from the south. it’s geographically distant, has its own Chantry etc, does things in its own way, is fairly dominant as a Thedosian world power, and is sort of isolated from the south in that it seems fairly closed off to like, the average southerner? these things combined with the way Tevinter is a general sense don’t really make it feel to me like a place where waves would be felt from many of the choices we made in the south. I’m invested in and appreciate BioWare’s knock-on effects, meaningful choices and choice-import system for this franchise, so this isn’t me saying I don’t want it. it’s also still going to be a DA game, so this isn’t me saying there won’t be any ‘ripples’ at all or that our choice won’t matter. I just think the radical shift in setting, compared to the prior shifts, for this installment presents BW with a less complicated and relatively cleaner slate to work with than previously. not completely blank, but more so than usual. I think this is understandable and quite strategic - 4 games worth of choices means more and more variables to track, more resources to ‘express’ those choices in game, is just very complicated in general. at a point it grows arms and legs and becomes either exponential/unmanageable or ridiculous, whether thru the amount of handwaving, retconning, footnoting big things, etc. thinking about it, in Tevinter, how much could it really matter who rules in Orzammar, say, or Ferelden? How much could it matter whether Hawke sided with the mages or the templars? yknow? given the location and stuff I tend to think a higher proportion of choice impacts than ‘usual’ will be expressed as things like differences in Codex entries and other ‘flavor’ stuff such as ambient dialogue or offhand dialogue references. letters, a war table-esque mechanic, etc.

Example: Who became Divine had quite differing outcomes and developments across the south. Sometimes I think showing these in a new game set in the south would pose a problem with the sheer.. differing-ness, divergence. I’d worry about them retconning some of those epilogue slides a la DAO, or minimizing things. Thankfully tho ofc as it turns out, we’re not really going to be in the south to see it first hand, so it’s not a big problem in the end.

there are also some places where I think we may subscribe to a different idea or two (thats cool, these games engender such diverse opinions and neat discussions). for me: In the scene where OGB Kieran is with Flemythal, Urthemiel’s soul passes from him to her. if Morrigan reappears in DA4 therefore, whether or not he is in tow, her son is no longer the OGB. In the Solas and Flemythal post-credits scene, I don’t think that Solas absorbed Flemeth herself, Mythal herself, her godhood or her possible-Urthemiel soul - just her power, her strength. I therefore don’t think Solas is in a situation where in some worlds he’s absorbed Urthemiel and some worlds has not. I also believe that if Flemythal is still out there, if she has grand designs and a plan/intent, her ‘movement’ on that front would progress regardless and not really be influenced by whether or not she carries the soul of Urthemiel. I could easily be wrong given the DA4 hints towards old god stuff, but this is my feeling at the moment. Also, we see Flemythal passing something away through the eluvian in the post-credits scene. That’s the same regardless of whether she has Urthemiel, so it’s not Urthemiel or not just-Urthemiel. whatever it was, it’s not Urthemiel-dependent. if she was passing her godhood to Morrigan or something (who knows?), Morrigan receives a godhood regardless. back to if Morrigan reappears in DA4, if this was the case, Morrigan’s received a godhood regardless (Mythal), and therefore has received a big power-up or development, regardless.

I tend to think the OGB choice was a Biiig smoking gun of a choice in DA:O, at a time when they weren’t sure if there would be a next game or not (remember the DAO epilogue slide retcons?), if that makes sense. There were folk at the time who believed that the main plot of future games should revolve around the existence (i.e. omg my son!! he exists!!) of the OGB. a tangent but I remember folk calling for him to be the PC or to be a companion in DAI lol, which.. yeah. the choice in the end wasn’t ignored or footnoted - Morrigan in DAI has her son or does not, and if she has him he is the OGB or he is not. things still play out in that part of DAI in a fairly similar way, and if she has the OGB, that thread is resolved in the Flemythal transfer scene. Flemythal collects and off she goes. then seems to die, lol (I don’t think she’s dead but that’s another post I’ve made 7 times already). I think this was their way of what I’m calling ‘expressing’ and fairly neatly tie-ing off on that particular significant divergence. if she lives, I don’t see Flemythal’s importance or power/role being diminished by “possible absence of Urthemiel”. I suppose in a general sense I think of the choices as things they ‘express’, and the choice thing in general as actually more like.. the clever illusion of choice. [with the caveat that I have limits or specifications like if the PC killed or caused the end of a companion, they should stay dead]

Back to the question, because this somehow became a schpeel. on reflection yeah, mm, I definitely find this a difficult and dizzying topic to consider. Perhaps there are less choices that I foresee/would guess have the biggest impact or an impact in DA4, and more choices that I would like to see have an impact on DA4. Some of these things that I want to see ‘expressed’ or come back to mean  or influence something are (beyond the obvious like redeem/stop and “Did the Inquisitor befriend Solas or not”):

prior to DAI, despite some of the way the ramble above sounds, I would have said the OGB choice. Post DAI I now feel like this was satisfyingly expressed

I can see them handwaving the Warden leaving Sten locked in the cage and saying he didn’t die when the darkspawn came and somehow got out and returned home, so they can have him as Stenishok. Ok... fine. What I do want to see reflected though, if we encounter Stenishok (invasion and all that), is whether the HoF recruited Sten to help during the Blight and what his opinion of them in the end was, so did he think they were honorable, did he respect them. So i.e., or the standin metric for that would have to be I suppose, whether or not we returned his sword. I think the Qunari under Sten would invade regardless of his opinion of the HoF (went into that here, warning, TN spoilers at link), because that’s the Qun, and IC for Sten, but if he came to respect the HoF I want to see that reflected in the nuances of how he thinks of the people of the south and conceives of his previous experience there.

this one is definitely more like straight up wishful thinking, but with the new prominence of the Crows.. whether the HoF recruited Zevran and Zevran is alive and well. I went into that a bit here, ctrl-F Zevran (warning, TN spoilers at link).

whether the HoF killed the Architect. if he’s alive he should really be out there doing either nefarious or intriguing things, especially considering the new weird and wonderful darkspawn phenomena and the continuing mysteriousness of the Wardens, the implied civil war, odd/lack of news out of Weisshaupt etc. what does he think of the new darkspawn developments in Hormok? What did he make of the rise of his peer Cory?

whether the HoF allowed Avernus to continue his research, with/without constraints. ok, it can be one of the things that inspired the surviving HoF to search for a cure for the Calling, but I’m intrigued. the power of blood, the Taint, the Wardens, sending the research to the ever mysterious First Warden.. again all very thematic with current things.

whether Fenris is alive and well. I love him and he is always alive and well in my worldstates, I think returning him to Danarius is an awful in-universe thing to do. but if he was returned to Danarius or Hawke killed him or never recruited him, look, I don’t want to see him handwaved or “he’s there anywayed” into the DA4 plot if he appears in it, or at least not in the same way each time. (I don’t want to see “slave Fenris off to the side on a Tevinter street” in-game, I think there’s no need for that at all, but if you did give him back I simultaneously don’t want a “I escaped and now I’m the same Blue Wraith/DA4 Plot Thing anyway” if that makes sense, he just shouldn’t be in the exact same role/position at all. just for clarity on this if he was given back I don’t want or need to see it. No thankyou! that’s not what I’m sayin) I actually don’t want to see him in DA4 in a general sense really, and definitely not as a companion or in a major role (but I am Living for and love his comic content, that’s swell!). but that’s another subject centered on wanting to see more new chars and less old, stuff like that. I also think they should stop retconning or handwaving/asspulling/writing around in-game character deaths that the PC chose or caused like they did in those cases with Leliana, Anders etc. Stahp.

If Merrill is alive and well and didnt destroy her eluvian, I think we could do with using her eluvian expertise in the next game given the eluvian network, whether that’s via research notes or somesuch or an advisory/Morrigan-in-DAI type capacity.

if Feynriel is alive and well and left to study in Tevinter, I think we could do with using his abilities/knowledge of his abilities in the next game, given the sleep-threat.

if Cass got the book of Seeker secrets. alright, do they know yet if they can help the cured Tranquil with their emotions? c’mon, spread the knowledge of the cure. this is less because I want to right all social and societal wrongs in Thedas or whatever and more because this as a plotline really interests me in terms of storybeats and implications. for example I’d like to see curing a Tranquil in-game, not just in a book, and the premise of a recently-cured Tranquil companion grabs me a lot. I think it’d be interesting to explore them re-adapting and stuff with the rebounded flood of emotions and everything, trying to help them along the way etc.

who drank from the Well, although I can see this being kinda complicated to write, especially if Morrigan reappears and/or the Inquisitor returns as an NPC or as PC. my mind categorizes this as almost OGB-choice tier in terms of significance and complexity.

[[disclaimer: I will be using the words biomale and biofemale in this post several times in an attempt to avoid confusion as to the point I’m trying to make. I do not intend to upset or alienate anyone who is intersex or does not otherwise conform to binary physical sex in any way. Thank you.]]

Let’s put together a little thought experiment. You take 100 sexually mature biomales and 100 sexually mature biofemales, both with no knowledge of society beyond this social group, and drop them on an uninhabited tropical island. They have all the resources, food and water, and even materials to make clothing and textiles not far behind from what we have in modern day, perhaps even unique ones to the culture they will eventually create.

Terfs and other denominations of trans-denialists would have you believe some very strict rules would be set up immediately. The biomales would hunt or gather, build, and perhaps begin to create the rituals or beliefs that might one day become a religion, and eventually a societal culture. The biofemales might be relegated to the role of caring for the society’s homes but perhaps not in the way one might expect (when trying to view this thought experiment through the lense of someone who has some particularly backwards ideas about womanhood being equated to the ownership of a uterus that is.) Perhaps terfs would have some more progressive ideas regarding the role of the biofemales, and sure, a matriachal society in which biofemales are responsible for the creation of societal culture isn’t at all outside the realm of possibility by any regards. In the spirit of trying to frame this argument as something a particularly progressive Terf might come up with, let’s say this is the case. Biofemales are the owners of family names and all social status, and biomales are relegated to the duties of cleaning, maintaining, and providing for the settlement.

Now before I actually make my argument, I will say I’m no terf at all. I am not a biofemale person who believes transwomen are rapists invading female-exclusive spaces like wlw. I can only imagine what a terf would come up with when presented with the thought experiment, and because I cannot be fucking bothered to interact with a terf on the issues of gender and biological sex (oh god could you fucking imagine.) That said, I believe I understand the perspective and beliefs of a person with that sort of mindset enough to construct this imaginary facsimile of the thought experiment from a terf’s perspective. Or, maybe I’m dead wrong, in which case I’m sure they’ll tell me. Just gonna quickly address them here:

Hello eager, anticipatory terfs! I’m sure you all have been waiting with bated breath for a post like the first bit of this one to come along so that you can reply in all sorts of flowery ad hominem language, saying things like “I hope you die in a fire you dickless pig-fucker!” Or, even better “Of course this pitiful excuse for a MALE would just LOVE to come up with his own approximation of what we, FEMALES, must be thinking!” I can assure you right now though, I’m not going to reply to any comments like that. I know that’s probably a real turn off for you, probably nixed any motivation to even keep reading this post, I understand. That said, this first part of the argument doesn’t matter, I only included it so that I might have some sort of control to weigh against my own imagination of the thought experiment. Additionally, I reached out to my three sisters about the ideas that a terf truscum person might have about the thought experiment. Here are their responses.

Buddy it’s 4 in the morning in California I can’t fucking read a three page paper this early.

What the fuck? Why would I want to put myself in the headspace of a trans-exclusionist? Why are you even asking me this? What is this for? What the fuck bro.

What’s a terf

Not as enlightening as I had hoped sadly. Anyways, I want to emplore you, please continue to read. I have a lot to say about this imaginary society and what I believe their ideas about gender conformity says about us. I think you might actually see some things in a different light than our incredibly polarized and entrenched societal beliefs would have you observe the issue. If that sounds like something that interests you, please read on.

So, this society. 100 biomales and 100 biofemales. And what do I believe it would look like? Well, I’ll tell you, but first I want to touch on a separate aspect than those I covered in my facsimile of a “terf” island society, and that’s sexuality. The reason I didn’t bring it up at all is because the fact is, many terfs are gay or bisexual women. They are real people with their own feelings and damage and ideas about what it means to be wlw. While I may have momentarily felt only slightly uncomfortable creating the idea of a “terf” island society and talking about its concepts of gender identity and social expectations placed on our imaginary island refugees completely in a vaccuum with no real input from actual women, being a wlw is not an issue I can even begin to comprehend, much less create my own ideas of what an idealized island society would look like to a wlw. It was a bridge too far, and I will not speak over real women with real opinions about what that is like. In fact, if you do identify as a woman (trans or not,) please feel free to share your own input on how you feel my facsimile “terf” scenario might be improved/ammended.

With all that said, let me say that I am now choosing to bring sexuality to the court because I am a gay man/nb person, and can speak to my own experiences and the experiences of others I know about sexuality. Additionally, from a terf’s perspective, the gender identity issue is one irreversibly entwined with sexuality.

So, a society with 100 biomales and 100 biofemales. What would it look like to me? Well, firstly, I don’t think the society would be so divided by gender as the imaginary terfs (or for that matter, most traditional people cough cough) would have you believe. Anyone who’s been to a public highschool knows that BOTH males and females are athletic. Both sexes are creative. Both sexes are capable of being responsible and loving parents. The problem we encouter with trying to frame everything into “men do this women do that” categories is that that is what our traditions and society have programmed us into believing is the norm. This society has none of that programming. Because of this, I do not believe this society would devolve into such a simplistic and arbitrary culture as “you have a penis so you go hunt and gather.” Instead, why not imagine a society where people’s individual talents and skills take precedence over their sex in regards to what role they are able to fulfill in this society? Perhaps you are a biomale, yet you have a very nurturing and caring instinct. Why not serve as a midwife and care for the village’s infants? Perhaps you are a biofemale, but are very athletic. Perhaps then, you would best serve the society as a hunter, no? I think you get what I’m getting at, and I don’t think anyone, even terfs, would disagree with me that gendered societal roles are a pretty dated concept that does not line up with what we understand of real people living in situations like this. They are a biproduct of western civilization’s traditions, and are not at all the norm in dozens of non-western societies.

So, if we can agree that there most likely wouldn’t be overarching end all be all gender roles in society, where is the issue exactly? Well, it’s this: some members of our society do not fall into the traditional gender roles associated with their biological sex. So, what about in this society, where there are no meticulously well-rooted gender roles? It stands to reason that without these gender roles, people would be able to do what they wanted, dress how they wanted, love who they wanted, free of prejudice or judgement. Obviously I am GREATLY oversimplifying a very complex issue, but live with me in the bit for a moment. What would you be in a world free from discrimination on the basis of biological sex, gender, or sexuality. There would be no traditions saying “you can’t do this because you’re this.” Who would you become? Who would you have the boldness and the freedom to be? Now, a pre-agricultural society that hasn’t even developed traditions or laws is hardly the most desirable place to imagine oneself living, but just think for a moment. No glass ceiling. No homophobic. No oppression on the basis of sex.

Now, I already have a good idea of what people are going to say about this post. “Tearing down the borders of gender and sexuality would only render our understanding of LGBTQIA ideas completely useless.” “There ARE certain things males are more inclined to do than women, biologically speaking. R*pe seems to come to mind.” “By refusing to give your imagined society any gender roles you have essentially made a moot point about what it means to be trans in our society.” Perhaps more broadly, “this thought experiment is dumb and you should feel bad.”

But here’s the thing. I’m not making this post in hopes of “dunkin’ on terfs” or even really challenging anyone’s opinions on anything. I have absolutely no hope that this dumb, worthless, ~3,000 word thought experiment will do any of that, let alone get any amount of notes. I only wanted to talk about this to put my own mind at ease in imagining a world I, a casual non-binary person, could exist without having to justify or prove myself as non-binary. I could, in my imaginary society, simply be myself. I could look up at stars. I could talk to gods of the wind on stillwater, of the sunlight through the palm fronds, and of the moonlight’s pale glow on the sand. I could do all of these things without constantly being percieved as a man because of the way I presented or behaved. And, I could find a masculine partner to be with, free of judgement.

“But Malwarewolf!” You cry, pleadingly. “What about all the people born as one sex that wish to transition into another sex? They would have no way of doing that in this imaginary society!! As a trans person, I do not experience the same satisfaction you do in this concept!”

This is, perhaps, the biggest hole in my argument. However, just because a person is born as one sex and wishes to transition in a relatively (oh, how do I say this without offending a lot of people,) quaint society doesn’t mean they’re just damned to live in a state of dysphoria or unhappiness with their body. I would argue, they might be able to live happier lives than trans people in our society do, existing as a fully welcomed and accepted member of society, with no oppression or suppression of their very valid desires to exist as they opposite sex. I would further argue that in a society without the proper foreknowledge and tools to perform gender-reassignment surgery, individuals who might identify as “trans” in our society would instead be free to express themselves however they wanted to instead of having to adopt a particular appearance or sex-identifying features to adhere to their non-existent gender roles. This is, very possibly, how the polynesian “third genders” came to be, such as Māhū in Hawaii and Tahiti, Fakaleiti in Tongan peoples, and Fa’afafine in Samoa. Now, these third genders are very important to many polynesian cultures and have very specific spiritual and societal roles in the island’s cultures respectively, the extent of which I am no way qualified to speak about (but would absolutely LOVE if some native Hawaiians could weigh in on!) It should be noted however, that a Māhū person can be born either male or female.

I say all of this to say, gender is a highly complex and winding topic. I could go on waxing poetic about my day-dream life in this idyllic society, but if you’ve made it this far in the post, you’ve probably had enough of that. Thank you so much for reading this far into a fucking hypothetical concept of all things. I will close by saying unironically, I’m gay as fuck, trans rights are human rights, and lastly trans-exclusionists if I see you bullying people in the comments I will suplex you through a plywood board.

I love you all and have a wonderful day.

10, 14, 20 & 32 for thora & ruth!

inquisitor meme | accepting

10: Are there further beliefs/religious perspectives your Inquisitor is interested in or perhaps despises?

Thora is… relatively open and interested in other religious perspectives. There are some difficulties, especially some she runs into in early Inquisition. For instance, the Skywatcher you meet in the Fallow Mire early on the game has a less-positive reception than the Avvar she meets in the Frostback Basin. At that point in the game she’d only just been exposed to spirits as something more than what you hear Chanters sing about a few months ago at best, and hasn’t encountered any that haven’t tried to kill her. She admits Solas has a point that they could be people when he explains, but it takes much longer (and meeting spirits like Cole, Command, the Divine in the Fade, etc) for her to start internalising that point, so the idea of someone worshipping them strikes her as strange. But she’s not about to turn down his help, and if I remember right he’s not dismissive of the idea of Andraste (in banter in multiplayer he seems to just regard her as another goddess of sorts) so it would be rude to express more than confusion.

The Dalish gods she’s quite sure were never real (in any sense), but still has an interest in them especially as she grows more well-versed in the history. Though the events of Inquisition have her questioning that aforementioned belief even before she meets Mythal. Codices found, written by someone who refers to themself as Geldauran and refers to the gods in a much more personal sense than most religious texts she’s read/heard, etc. Discovering the first Inquisitor seemed to believe in both the Dalish gods and the Maker also resonated with her as someone who believes in both the Stone and the Maker.

The religions she’s most prejudiced against would be Tevinter beliefs, but in that case it’s pretty aimless, and her perception is changed by Dorian. He doesn’t seem too different from other Andrastrians despite the difference in Divine. Still, she finds the history of how they got to be Andrastrian in the first place to be mostly a case of trying to cover their asses. She would be deeply uncomfortable by anyone who worships the Old Gods, but has never ran into them as far as she knows. The Qun is sort of a quasi-religion along the lines of Confucianism, with a lot more philosophy and a lot less belief in a higher power, tangible or otherwise, but I’ll talk about it, anyway. She’s not a fan of it, having been in Kirkwall during Act II of Dragon Age II, and her brother having converted and left. Again, she doesn’t have much of an idea of what it involves, just that it separates families and invades cities. Her opinion of the Qun doesn’t change much for the better, either. She becomes more sympathetic to those living under it, but that’s not quite the same thing.

There’s also a matter of cults that pop up around the time of the Inquisition. Those who worship Corypheus she mostly feels pity for, her hatred mostly reserved for their god (though even he she feels some pity for in the end, she relates to the feeling of being abandoned by your god). And, of course, there’s the cult that’s formed around her. You have the more literal cult in the Hinterlands, who she recruits but sends away to help people, and the more general cult following that all Inquisitors probably have to live with for the rest of their lives– whether they’re Andrastrian or not. Thora’s most comfortable with those in the Inquisition who don’t see her as chosen by the Divine. She doesn’t like telling people they’re wrong, but she can never bring herself to fully believe she was chosen by anyone and that her position isn’t the result of having a good catching hand.

14: Which advisor did they listen to more often?

It’s pretty even, actually. Her morals most align with Josephine and a post-personal quest Leliana (softened), so I think she tends towards Josephine in particular, but not uniformly. Some of Josephine’s non-violent solutions still involved some kind of underhanded moves, and while Thora wasn’t above that, she also sometimes appreciated Cullen’s straightforward methods, even if it did lead to answers like “just stomp hills flat.” One example where I remember she always picks Cullen is when a noble sends a letter complaining about refugees and Cullen’s answer is to send soldiers to help the refugees, which was the most appealing answer especially given Josephine’s was to just ignore the letter. That being said, whenever magic or mages were involved Thora probably only listens to be polite. So overall, she listens to Josephine most, though later I think she listens as much to Leliana.

20: Which abilities did they specialize themselves in? Explain how the trainers convinced them.

Thora already had a specialisation by the time she became Herald, she was a Beserker, albeit the specific tradition that lives on on the Surface, which is to say, likely removed from what Oghren describes in Origins. She got convinced to take up that specialisation by Lantos (the dwarf who communicates with you during the Cadash war table missions) because after every fight she was always sick, or barely holding it back, and the figured if she got so angry she couldn’t see straight it might help. And he was right, mostly. She is still often sick after battles once she comes down from it, but by then she can remove herself from the situation. Lantos used this argument, and told her it was a traditional dwarven technique and Thora, being always eager to connect to traditional dwarf culture how she can, agreed.

The offer to find her a professional trainer, either a former professionally trained Beserker who is living on the Surface (like Oghren) or someone from Orzammar given permission to leave, similar to the armies promised to the Wardens during DA:O. The latter likely happens slightly later in Inquisition than the typical specialisation trainers are brought on, due to having to establish stronger ties to Orzammar first.

32: What are their thoughts on Skyhold? Is there a stronghold they would prefer over it?

Thora loves it. She probably would’ve loved it if Solas had brought them to an empty cave in the mountainside, but it turned out to be perfect. It’s in the mountains, but basks in sunlight, and it’s highly defendable. It feels like a meeting of her identities, although she’d feel stupid saying that, and frankly Thora doesn’t know strongholds well enough to say if there’d be one she prefers. None of the holds captured throughout Inquisition are as defendable or large, and while she can’t feel much about the magic at work at Skyhold, she trusts the people who say it’s there.

What I think Thora appreciates most about Skyhold is having space to call her own. Like, real space. She’s never had more than a little room with the Carta, a shared hovel in Haven. She doesn’t need a whole fortress, but that room at the top is something she might have dreamed about when she was a child.

Leaving it after Trespasser is unsurprisingly difficult. She takes most of her non-essential Stuff to Kirkwall, where Varric has secured her family a seat in the Merchant Guild and an estate, but nowhere will ever be as loved as Skyhold.

It doesn’t mean anything

Pairing: Rakidric, hints of Sejan

Summary: Luka would never meet his soulmate, he knew it since his childhood. He was fine with it. Or at least, he pretended to be…

Word count: 3931

Notes: Did somebody say soulmate AU?

Luka’s soulmate died during the war.

At the time, he didn’t really care. He already had too much to grieve for anyway, just like he was too young to completely understand the meaning of the mark resting on his shoulder. When it faded to grey, he just shrugged it off and coped the only way he knew, by practicing football.

The looks of pity he got didn’t bother him either. As a refugee, he was used to it. What’s more, he had no time to waste with it. Not when he needed to train harder than anyone else to prove that despite being shy and small, as coaches so often blamed him, he could still do great things on a field.

However, this changed when he started playing for bigger clubs. Celebrity was seen as a great way to find your soulmate. You just had to put your mark on display, and boom, it was all over the news, making it easier to find your promised one.  So Luka started hiding his fading mark under bandages. He didn’t want the whole world to know he was doomed to never find his other half.

That simple thought still stung, so he didn’t want to have a thousand articles written about it. Also, he wanted to be judged on his football, and his football alone. Of course, that didn’t stop journalists from making hypotheses about his reluctance to show his soulmate mark to the world.

For some, he was acting out of shyness, while others deemed him too full of himself to ask for help in the search of his soulmate. Once more, he decided not to listen nor to care about their opinions and to go on with his life.

Things got better once he met Vanja. She was kind and understanding and everything he could have hoped for. With her by his side, the burden of his mark felt less heavy.

Of course, she had a soulmate and it wasn’t Luka. The colors of her mark still shone brightly on her  skin, yet, she was just as uncomfortable with it as Luka was with his own.

She’d told him the story, once. How she had met her soulmate a few years before meeting him and how it didn’t work out, at all. It was rare, but not unheard of. Sometimes, fate itself made mistakes.

With her, Luka could be himself without worrying about the secret of his mark. They started dating, then got married and from this moment, the whole world believed she was his soulmate and the rumors ended. It didn’t bother him, on the contrary. Sometimes, he even wished it was true.

It was nice when journalists stopped questioning him about this sensitive matter. With time, he even stopped looking at his faded mark when he bandaged it. He had a supportive wife and wonderful kids so he didn’t see the point of mourning a life that would never be.

Among his team mates, his mark was a subject everyone knew to avoid, may it be with with his club or when he played for his national team. He was thankful to see his friends respecting his private life to such an extent. No one shot weird glances at him when he went to the shower with his arm still bandaged, no one raised up the subject of soulmates when he was around to make sure he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Sometimes, he wondered what he had done to be lucky enough to have such great friends.

Of course, it didn’t leave him free of any insecurities. He still remembered the day Šime and Dejan realized they were soulmates, the first time they changed together in the locker room while playing for Croatia. He still remembered the awe in their eyes, the tears of joy streaming down their faces, their happy laughter. Luka was glad for them and wished them the best, but deep down, it hurt to know he would never experience anything like this.

Playing with his national team also meant playing with Ivan. From the very first time they met, somethings had just clicked between them. They understood each other pretty well, and Luka found it surprisingly easier to overcome his shyness when Ivan was around.

Their friendship grew strong, stronger than their rivalry. Luka laughed when journalists expected them to become sworn enemies just because he played for Real Madrid and Ivan for FC Barcelona. On the contrary, Luka was glad to have him as his opponent. Ivan forced him to keep working hard, to always get better, to surpass his limits every time they played against each other.

After each game, it was always the same. Ivan would come to him, take off his jersey, then hand it to Luka. The cocky words on his lips never changed.

“You played well, Luka. Now, here’s your beloved shirt.”

As always, it was just innocent banter, with Ivan reminding him again and again that he had once expressed his admiration for Barcelona, back when he had no idea fate would lead him to Real Madrid.

It quickly became a habit. Luka would answer with a smile and return the teasing as best as he could. He accepted the jersey every time, though. It was almost ridiculous, to be honest. By now, he had an entire shelf at home filled with FC Barcelona jerseys, with the name Rakitic printed on the back of each one. Maybe keeping them all was silly, but he couldn’t find the strength in himself to discard them. They were gifts from a dear friend, after all.

He just got home after a clasico, a new jersey in his hand, when his mark began to itch. Luka froze in his track and he gripped at his shoulder. The feeling was almost unbearable. Luka fought the urge to scratch his skin hard enough to draw blood as his eyes grew wet with tears.

He knew it could happen at some point. After a while, faded marks would start to peel off, just like skin did after recovering from a bad sunburn. But Luka’s soulmate died so long ago he thought it would never happen to him. All of a sudden, the pain he had tried to ignore for so many years overwhelmed him. He would never meet his soulmate. A piece of him would always be missing, no matter what he did.

Luka only realized he was still holding Ivan’s jersey after he buried his face in it to muffle his sobs. The fabric felt soft under his fingers and for some reason he couldn’t fathom, his friend’s smell soothed him. The ache in his shoulder slowly reduced until he stopped wanting to rip his own skin off. His chest was still heaving hard, but he wiped his tears off quickly. Vanja and the children weren’t home at the moment, and he didn’t want his family to see him in such a miserable state.

He quickly made up his mind and decided to act as though nothing happened. Luka wasn’t going to let this ruin his life, not after all the struggles he overcame to get where he was.

Just like he promised himself to never look again at his disappearing mark, not even while changing his bandages. He didn’t need another pathetic breakdown.

Wearing his country jersey always made Luka proud. When he was fighting for Croatia, he put all his personal problems aside just so he could give it his best. Today was no different. It was only a friendly game, but he had fought his way through it with all his strength to bring the victory to Croatia. He came back to the locker room exhausted but content, the thrill of success still burning in his chest. His team mates shared jokes happily, but Luka decided it was safer to head for the showers when he spotted Domagoj with a couple of beers in his hands. This screamed of mischief and Luka didn’t want to be caught in the middle of some prank.

Ivan grabbed a bottle of shampoo and headed the same way as him. Despite their victory, he was frowning and his jaw was clenched. Luka’s heart twisted at the sight. He decided he had to do something about it, as the captain of the team, but also as his friend.

“Something’s the matter, Ivan? You don’t look well. Did you hurt yourself during the game?”

Ivan looked lost, as if he was just waking up from a nightmare, but he quickly shook his head.

“No, don’t worry. I’m fine.”

Luka didn’t buy that, not when he could see the way Ivan’s knuckles tensed enough to turn white as he talked.

“Listen, whatever is happening, we can talk about it. I don’t know what you’re sheltering yourself from, but…”

“Why are you always covering your soulmark?”

Ivan’s tone was harsh, almost aggressive. This was as unexpected as the question itself. To Luka, it felt like a punch to the guts. He instinctively put his hand over the hidden patch of skin, as if to hide it better.

“It… It is none of your business, Ivan.”

Luka didn’t mean to be rude, but his voice came out sharp as a knife. When it came to his mark, it didn’t take much for him to get all defensive. Obviously, it wasn’t the good way to react, because Ivan’s eyes turned dark and for a second, Luka was almost scared of him.

“Really? Who’s the one sheltering himself, then? We’ve been friends for years, I thought you would trust me enough by then, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Ivan, what is this about? I don’t understand you. Let’s not throw a tantrum because of this.”

“Wow, so I’m throwing a tantrum? What am I to you, a reckless child? I’m not asking for much, just for you to show me what’s under this…”

Ivan reached for his arm and Luka shrieked when his fingers closed around the bandages covering his mark with the clear intention of ripping them off. He couldn’t believe his friend would betray his trust in such a way, invade his privacy without a thought for his feelings. However, Ivan seemed to realize it too because he stopped at the last second, his hand resting over the bandages.

“Fuck… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have tried to do this… Please forgive me, Luka.”

He took a step back and Luka started breathing again. They stayed silent, facing each other, for an awkwardly long time. Ivan’s eyes were full of regret while Luka was still shaking slightly.

“Please, Lukita, say something. I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear. I would never… You mean too much to me. Please…”

Before Ivan could break into sobs, Luka ran into his friend’s arms. What had just happened, it wasn’t them. Maybe Ivan was just worried with a soulmark matter and hoped to find some support in him. This wasn’t worth fighting over.

“Don’t worry, Ivan, it’s alright. It’s just… What’s under those bandages, it’s not even worth mentioning. Trust me, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything, really.”

Luka wished he believed in his own words. Anyway, for now, this was all the strength he could gather. Maybe one day, he would be confident to tell Ivan the whole story, but not today.

However, he didn’t expect Ivan to push him away, nor to see tears running free on his cheeks. Luka had never seen him so defeated before. A bitter laugh escaped his friend’s lips but soon turned into a painful sob.

“It doesn’t fucking mean anything! Yeah, I suppose I should have guessed sooner.”

“Ivan, you’re frightening me. Please, tell me what’s happening to you. Why are you speaking of soulmates all of a sudden?”

“Don’t. I’m not doing this, I can’t. Just leave me alone.”

Luka wanted to protest, but he didn’t get the chance. Ivan stormed out of the locker room, all thoughts of taking a shower forgotten. Luka tried to run after him, but in vain. No matter what he did, his friend managed to avoid him until it was time to take the plane to go back to their respective clubs.

His fight with Ivan left a painful hole in Luka’s chest. Not only that, but his mark started to burn him where his team mate had touched it. The itch was nothing compared to this. It felt as if someone had spilled molten iron on his skin. Ignoring it just wasn’t a possibility anymore.

Somehow, he managed to get home after his plane landed, even though his memory of it was blurry. He rushed to the kitchen sink, ripped off his shirt and his bandages, then covered his shoulder in ice cold water. Still, he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to witness the cruel sight of his markless skin. He let out a cry of pain when it didn’t do much to help.

“Oh no, Luka!”

He barely recognized Vanja’s voice through the pain. She rushed towards him then hugged him tightly, worry in her eyes. However, she calmed down when she noticed the pain was coming from his shoulder. Gently, she ran her hand through his hair in a soothing way.

“Don’t worry, I already know for your mark, I noticed it a few days ago. To be honest, I hoped you would come to talk to me about it.”

“What for?” Luka groaned. “Just so I could cry about how my mark is disappearing? I know I’ll never meet my soulmate, I accepted it 25 years ago.”

“For the love of god, Luka, please tell me you looked at it these last few days!”

“Of course I didn’t. I don’t see the point in hurting myself more than I already am.”

Vanja sighed, but she cupped his face in her hand gently, wiping out his tears.

“Just take a look at it, honey. For your own good.”

Luka couldn’t find it in himself to deny her, not when she was being so kind to him. He turned his head, his heart in his throat, before looking at his shoulder. A gasp of surprise escaped him when he discovered that his shoulder wasn’t bare as he had expected. There was no faded mark on his skin, either. Instead, a bright soulmark adorned his arm. The number seven, checkered in red and white.

“It… It can’t be. My soulmate’s dead.”

“I know, Luka. I didn’t believe it could happen either, not until I made some researches about it when I saw your mark changing.”

Vanja smiled, before explaining to him how in some rare cases, your soulmate could change if you became close enough to someone compatible with you. Luka listened with bewildered eyes, all the while grimacing because of the pain, even though it was getting more tolerable.

“Vanja… Your mark… Did it change?”

Deep down, he already knew the answer, but he had to be sure. He lived with Vanja, she was the mother of his children, so maybe fate would be kind enough to…

“No, but I’m still glad you asked. Anyway, let’s be real. We both know who your soulmate is.”

“Ivan.”

The name left his lips in a whisper and the moment he pronounced it, Luka suddenly understood his friend’s strange behavior, his sudden questions about soulmarks, and…

And Luka had told him a few hours ago that his mark didn’t mean anything to him.

“I’m just a fool, I rejected him without even realizing we were… that he was my… At least it explains why my mark is hurting so much right now.”

And Ivan was the rejected one, which meant his own mark certainly hurt ten times more. Breaking the bond uniting soulmates was extremely painful, everyone knew this. Vanja had also shared everything with him about her own experience. Luka felt sick to his stomach. The mere idea of being responsible for putting Ivan through so much pain… Now he hated himself.

“What should I do, Vanja? I’m not supposed to have a soulmate, I…”

“Go to him.”

“But… But what about you? I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. As long as you keep a place for me and our kids in your heart, I’m fine with it. Ivan is your soulmate, love. Don’t give up on him, not even for me.”

“You’re the best, Vanja. I don’t deserve you.” Luka let out, hugging her tightly, tears in his eyes.

“Of course, you do, don’t say stupid things. Now hurry, I’ll take care of the kids while you’re gone.”

Luka didn’t waste a single minute. It was already dark when he took his car and he knew that driving all the way to Barcelona in his state wasn’t the best idea in the world, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to see Ivan, to tell him he was sorry, that their bond did mean something to him.

Each minute separating him from Ivan was pure torture. His arm tingled and itched and burned while his mind was a mix of fear, eagerness and excitement. He had a soulmate. Even better, Ivan was his soulmate. He only needed to clear the misunderstanding and then…

He sobered up when he arrived in front of Ivan’s flat. The lights were still on, the proof that his friend wasn’t able to sleep. Luka parked his car as quickly as he could before rushing to the front door and ringing the bell. He waited for a few seconds, but no answer came. He repeated his action, only to be rewarded with silence once more.

Ivan was at home, sure, but he didn’t want to see anyone, it seemed.

Luka couldn’t give up so easily. Not when he had the power to soothe his friend’s pain. He looked up, all the way to the balcony above him. The idea that crossed his mind was ridiculous and looked like it was taken straight out to a Romeo and Juliet comedy, but to hell with it. If this was what it took him to reach Ivan, then so be it.

He started climbing clumsily, thanking his years of football training for his strong muscles. The effort took him all his strength and he was out of breath when he reached the balcony. Getting on the other side was going to be another story, or at least he thought so before someone caught his hand. He looked up and his eyes met Ivan’s.

His friend looked miserable, with his eyes red and puffy from crying. He helped Luka up, but with no enthusiasm. Before Luka could get enough air back in to talk, he snapped at him.

“I don’t know why the hell you’re here, but you’d better leave this instant. I don’t want to see you.”

“Ivan, listen…”

“No, leave me alone! I don’t want to hear empty excuses. All this doesn’t mean anything, remember?”

“I drove here all the way from Madrid, Ivan. Do you really think I would have done it if you didn’t mean anything to me?”

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that before.”

“I didn’t think I had a soulmate.”

“Yeah, rig- Wait, what?”

“You heard me well. My mark faded when I was a kid, so I assumed my soulmate was dead, that I would never meet that special someone. That’s why I covered my arm, to avoid drama in the newspaper, but also so I wouldn’t be reminded of it everyday. I’ve stopped looking at it years ago. When my skin started itching, I thought the mark was disappearing and I didn’t want to look at that either. That’s why I said it didn’t mean anything. But now… Now I know the truth. Your mark must have changed as well, right?”

Ivan nodded shyly, before uncovering his own shoulder. He still looked suspicious and Luka could tell it would take him some time to regain his trust. Ivan’s mark looked strikingly similar to his own, except it was a ten engraved on his shoulder. Luka’s number.

He didn’t even think before kissing the mark softly. Ivan flinched at first, but he soon relaxed into the touch. Luka could feel the pain in his own shoulder decreasing until it turned into a gentle thrum.

“You really had no idea?”

“Not a clue. I’m lucky Vanja actually told me. I didn’t understand why you were suddenly acting so weird. And my soulmark has always been a sensitive matter to me, so…”

“And I thought that you didn’t want me. I tried to get closer to you during training, to touch you more than usual, so that you’d know that I was okay with this, with us. I started wondering if you weren’t covering your mark so I wouldn’t see it. I tried to understand why you didn’t want me...”

“It’s alright, I’m here now, Ivan. I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

Luka wrapped his arm around him, not protesting when Ivan buried his face in his neck and started crying quietly. He ran his fingers through his hair tenderly, trying his best to bring peace to Ivan. To his soulmate. In his hurry to protect him from suffering any longer, he was only now grasping the true meaning of these words. Ivan was his soulmate.

“I’m so glad it’s you, you have no idea.” He whispered.

Next thing he knew, Ivan trapped his lips in the most intense kiss he had ever experienced. Luka closed his eyes and let the other man take the lead, moaning softly under his ministrations. All he breathed was Ivan, all he tasted was Ivan, and it felt oh so right.

“Well, I guess Šime and Dejan won’t be able to brag anymore about how they’re the only soulmate couple in the team, now.” Ivan laughed after they parted.

“You know them, they’ll find something else.” Luka chuckled. “I’m so sorry I made things so complicated for us. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

His voice grew soft as he leaned into Ivan. The exhaustion caused by his improvised trip was catching back on him. Ivan’s arms felt safe around him and right now, they were his favorite place in the world.

“I forgive you. I was stupid too, I should have confronted you directly instead of throwing hints around in hope you would understand.”

“That’s not true, I’m the one who panicked when you began talking about soulmates and…”

“Shh, it’s no use blaming yourself now. You look so tired, Luka, wanna join me in bed?”

Luka blinked, not knowing if this was an innocent proposition or if Ivan was actually suggesting more than sleeping. But before he could figure it out, a loud siren started roaring down the building and Ivan sighed.

“I think climbing your way up here to see me wasn’t your most clever idea.”

“You wouldn’t let me in! I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Maybe, but I think the neighbors just called the cops on you.”

Luka groaned while Ivan showed no compassion for him, too busy laughing at the situation they were in.

“You won’t be this happy if this story ends up on the news.” The smaller one protested.

“I admit, explaining this won’t be easy. But finally being with you will be worth all the struggles, no matter what happens. Not to mention that even if journalists start talking about it, it will make a pretty love story, you climbing up my balcony to declare your undying love to me.”

“Shut up, this is embarrassing!”

“Yeah, love you too, Lukita.”

Tag list: @tinymodric @arduango @slashandsports @mamaopal @zadarskabagudina @flemishyugotalian @man-dzukic @domo-no-domo-yes @mrsmodric

Just ask if you want me to add you to the tag list ^^

I think that you mentioned how that this third faction is about re-creating the status quo, and I am definitely getting the idea that we are seeing this. In a literary sense, maintaining the status quo is undercut by where its brought Urie in the latest chapter. Literally in the exact same circumstances when Shirazu died. Matsuri coming back with that emotionless face like that only serves to solidify the theme in my opinion.

:Re for the majority of the manga has been about shallow returns and soft resets. After all the manga itself starts out with Kaneki being given a so called “second chance” that he’s totally fine with in the form of Haise.

the first two arcs of :Re show anything though, it’s how fragile Haise’s state of being was when it was entirely based on lies. As much as he wanted to, Kaneki could not simply reset again and live as if nothing had happened. 

Haise has all the power of a ghoul and wants to use that power to protect the qs but at the same time he does not want to be a ghoul and wants to be treated as a human. Haise knows there were good people in his past life and he wants to protect them, but at the same time doesn’t want to accept the bad things he’s done or the bad parts about his life. What happens then is simple indecision, it’s stalling. 

Kaneki simply cannot choose, so he attempts to have both at once. To mentor the Q’s, while at the same time capturing the ghoul friends from his former life and putting them in cages for their safekeeping. At the end of the Tsukiyama arc though, Shuu points out how idiotic it is to think that he would want that. Even though he still cares about Kaneki and wants to be a part of his life, he doesn’t want it to come at the cost of his own agency. 

Though of course it’s slightly different for Shuu, Shuu who was raised by a loving family, he has the love of his family and their direct actions in protecting him to know that he has more self worth than to simply sit in a jail cell rotting for Sasaki’s sake. No matter how much the temptation was strong in him as well to return to those happy days when he was by Kaneki’s side. Chie even asks him as much, “Would you be willing to die just for the sake of ingredients” and his immediate thought returns to his family as a reason for him not to die. 

However, the fate of Hinami shoul be just enough of an illustration to show how much Kaneki’s own indecision cost the others around him. He was perfectly content to sit on her for upwards of six months and let her wait in the cell until finally deciding what to do. 

Despite how sympathetic Kaneki’s longing for a reset was, Hinami shows the consequences of his actions on other people. You can’t simply force people to cooperate with your idea of the past, it renders them essentially as props. HInami is given no choice but to wait in a cell until kaneki comes to save her, but only so she can be used again as somebody to mourn his heroic final suicide. Kaneki is far too wrapped up in his own feelings to ever spare a thought for somebody besides himself. 

Even when Kaneki finally moved it was another reset, an attempt to die by Arima’s hand and fix the mistake that went wrong the first time in the Anteiku raid, his suicide by Arima’s hand that was thwarted by his own miraculous survival.

When Kaneki lives through that, rather than moving forward as he said he would in his resolve against Arima we see him once again clinging to another reset. One that pretty much requires all the ghouls around him to simply forget the time he was an investigator and be perfectly fine with the fact that he was content killing ghouls to secure his own happiness and stability of home. 

A reset that requires Naki to forgive Kaneki instantly, Tsukiyama to forgive him for the death of Karren, and of course the presence of doves wielding quinques to instantly be forgotten. It’s a reset that once again has about as much stability as the Haise reset, and also requires that everyone around Kaneki simply go along with his wishes and his ideal view of the world. Ayato even says so, that Kaneki has essentially made everyone dependant on him by taking his title as the one eyed king, and that problem only accelerates when they get to the 24th ward and start accepting refugees into Goat’s membership.

Just as with Haise though, Kaneki does not even fully commit to this soft return to the past. As there’s still things he wants from the CCG, that he refuses to commit to. Part of him still longs for the days of the Q’s, and because he does not acknowledge this part of himself he can basically do nothing to address the one Q that does show up on his doorstep. 

Kaneki depends on soft resets and returns to the past because Kaneki himself can never truly come to terms and move on. Even when thinking of his own happy possible future with Touka, Kaneki is still hung up on the past and past losses. It is something he continually dwells in and has yet to come to terms with.

Kaneki is not the only character who clings to his own idealized image of the past though. There’s Amon, who spends three years but the only concrete thing he can do is rewrite the one action of the past where Seidou did not let him heroically stand back and fight Tatara alone so that he could escape.

He blatantly denies the reality that Seidou has become a ghoul who eats humans and calls him a ghoul investigator in order to justify that Seidou can be saved. 

Akira and Amon both save Seidou it seems for the sake of their own past regrets of not being able to save him at the time. Akira for not stopping him, and Amon for Seidou not running away when he told him to leave him behind with Tatara. 

Nevermind that the choice to go look for Amon for Akira’s sake, and the choice to stay fighting with Amon rather than leaving him behind were choices that Seidou made on his own that had nothing to do with Akira and Amon. Their dedication too, to saving Seidou seems to disappear the moment they’ve finally resolved their regrets of the past. When Akira and Amon both wake up, they do not even bother to ask where Seidou’s current whereabouts are.

Which makes it clear it’s not so much about care for the well being for the current Seidou as an individual, but their own regrets over the past Seidou, the person he was. When Amon and Akira get together, once again the past is specifically brought up and mentioned. 

Touka and Kaneki’s talk itself actually addresses nothing about the way Kaneki currently is acting as King and how he doesn’t really seem to be living it out to its fullest, but instead focuses almost entirely on past experiences from three years ago.

Mutsuki’s main motivation is to restore the house to the way it used to be before Shirazu and Sasaki both left. Nevermind that even if Sasaki comes back Shirazu will be gone. 

Mutsuki’s own actions are of course a dark foil to Kaneki’s. Can you really call Mutsuki’s desire to simply stab Kaneki until he’s immobile and drag him home, somehow different from Kaneki being perfectly content to let Hinami sit in a cell in a hellish prison for six months until Kaneki felt like rescuing her. In both cases the other is willingly sapping away the agency of a person and letting them exist as props for the sake of their own emotions and catharsis. 

Kaneki cannot confront Mutsuki right now, because he is Mutsuki. 

Saiko cries for Sasaki’s survival even though Sasaki is gone and no longer a part of the CCG. She still refers to him as Maman even though he willingly vacated that role long before he defected. 

Urie himself while trying to protect what he currently has clings also to an idealized version of the past. In both Mutsuki and Shirazu, Urie refuses to see the consequences of current Mutsuki’s actions because he’s caught on an idealized version of Mutsuki in his head. 

He says let’s go home the same way that Mutsuki says the only thing he desires it for all of them to return to that home together. Urie also does this for Shirazu, imagining a reality where if Shirazu lived him and Shirazu would work together in perfect cooperation and Shirazu would always reassure him.

Nevermind the fact that when Shirazu was alive, Urie constantly tried to undermine him and treated him like total shit the whole time. As for if Urie’s changed since then, he did the same exact thing for Aura where Aura was new to the squad and depednant on Urie. This was after Urie had lost Shirazu and grown since then. 

Surprisingly, people leave Urie even when they don’t die when he constantly bullies and belittles them then refuses to acknowledge that aspect of his behavior and change it. Because it’s easier for Urie to see the world as an outside force that constantly takes people away from him, rather than admit that there are reasons he himself loses people or more acurately drives them away. 

Then we have Marude of course who makes the bold claim that he’s going to take back the CCG.

Of course one has to wonder, what exactly would Marude’s version of the CCG even look like. What exactly does he disagree with in V’s tactics? Marude seems to have a grudge against the Washuu, but Furuta slaughtered them wholesale for him. Is it that Furuta is using the Ghoul Countermeasures laws to execute humans? Those laws were always in place though, and Marude was aware of them when he loyally served the CCG. He was fine with both the wholesale slaughter of ghouls, and the culture that raised investigators from orphaned homes in order to turn them into weapons against ghouls. 

What Furuta is doing right now is not even that far of an offshoot from what the CCG has always done. If Hajime were not made an oggai, and were just simply  given a gun when he was 19 instead of 11 and told to point it at ghouls would that somehow be better?

Marude and Amon both seem to disapprove of Furuta’s current actions while also not acknowledging that their own original goal was to also wipe out all of the ghouls. As if there would be some ethical version of this entirely bleak endgame. Marude’s problem seems to be with V, and the fact that V leads good investigators to their deaths. 

Marude seems to be also reeling with the fact that the past he had built all of his faith on with a lie, but rather than seeking the truth of the matter he instead tries to recreate his own version of the past. A CCG who exists to protect ghouls from humanity, controlled entirely by humans. 

These characters all essentially, in being hung up on the past or only trying to make right by it, clouds their minds to the better future which is a possibility for all of them. 

So that’s why in the latest chapter we see Urie reliving the same nightmare scenario again. Somebody dying in his arms, and the only two people around have absolutely no comfort for him. He’s met with coldness from Marude, and Matsuri’s blank stare.

Of course nothing really changes for these characters, because they’re not fighting for that change. All Urie wants is to simply preserve and keep things the way they are. Therefore he gets exactly what he wants, he loses Iwao exactly the same way he did Shirazu. Beating the ghoul in front of him, but unable to save Iwao’s life in time.

Little by little

26th I woke as usual, sweat on my brow to find another still day. Today was hot. Really hot. In my opinion it was no hotter than any other day only we didn't have a nice cooling breeze. I tried to get into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast on their was a great big lock in the way. After searching long and hard for a key (little over a minute) I resigned myself to wait for the others to wake and come and find the key. Once they did come and we were finally all sat at breakfast chatter began to wander towards the daily plan. I had had aspirations of starting to flatten the ground on which to dig the volunteer house and to dig it's foundations. It became clear to me that no one was keen on doing any strenuous physical activity. I helped Cuba with the minor chore of cutting away to filler he'd used on the walls in the kitchen. I decided I would go and help Hanna to rake field. We needed to get rid of all dry grass and other plants in order to transform it into a nice area for workshops. We decided to burn the grass in a metal drum as we were Coldingham the grass. The burning was talking too long so we tried burning the grass in clumps on the ground. We took precautions to contain the fire such as digging a small trench to around the fire, wetting the ground around it and we watched it closely armed with watering cans. The fire escaped after a while and crawled 2 or 3 metres aways before we spotted it and jumped into action with our emergency water. At the end of the field was a patch of ground I hadn't noticed before on which nothing grew. Perfect for our fire. I told the others that was the place for us. I was called a genius and we set to work, for about 5 minutes. Ali shouted at us all saying that we were all going to the beach. Now at this point I know a lot of you may consider me grumpy but I really didn't want to go to the beach. I'd had a day off the previous day, and I had a task in hand that was different to mixing concrete. I had’nt come to Turkey to simply go to the beach when it was a little warmer than was comfortable. After a little rebellion I and 3 others remained at the village to work whilst the others left to the beach. I was alone in the field. A vast expance to clear with just a bucket and a rake. I set to work. I worked nonstop for 4 hours. Well I took water breaks of course. And one for a coffee. And a few dates. And maybe a slice of water melon and a fig. After my tireless work I had got to about halfway through the field, there was now a large mound of hay at one end of the field but all I could see was the work still at hand. The four of us took lunch (pasta and a salad). As we finishing our post lunch coffees the minibus of beach goers returned. To get out of the way I went back to my field to get on with the job. I had the aim of finishing it by the end of the day and I knew that if stopped too long I wouldn't be able do it alone. Bit between my teeth I worked without regard for the sweat dripping of my nose and occasionally into my mouth. No regard for my t-shirt stuck to me with a large T written across my chest in slightly darker maroon than the original. Hoping all the while my morning crew would return and lighten to the load yet team never did. I had to employ the help of another volunteer, Eros. We worked for an hour together until at last my herculean task was complete. I had a haystack down one end of the field large enough to feed the entirety of the Grand national horses for a year. It was huge. Easily 6 feet in height, 10 feet long and another 6 feet in width. Now for the fun part or the day. The fire. After a few safety precautions we torched the lot, played a little ‘cricket’ as it burned. Cricket consisted of being tossed a ball and trying to pull the ball (stone) so that it might rain down on the others that were still building the kitchen. The bat was a slat from a pallet, not quite the fine piece of willow to which I'm used but a bat nonetheless. The shot need to travel around 60 metres but even my best times shots were falling 10 metres short. I had to go to the cafe to get wifi to find out when I would be going to University. Yes I should probably have known this before I came out and started to plan travelling Turkey but I didn't. I got on the pink bike and enjoyed a nice cycle into town. I spent a little time sorting my life out until I met a couple of the new volunteers. One was a 19 year old Norwegian girl that I’d chatted a little at the village earlier in the day. We sat and chatted for a while, to put it nicely she talked too much, to put it less nicely the girl had verbal diahorrea. I don't mean to be too rude because I thought she was a sweet girl but good lord she enjoyed talking about herself. I enjoy meeting new people because you never know what they'll be like but there's only so much I want to talk about exams and university. I would have assumed that being the same age we'd have had a similar experience over the past year of everyday conversations about university and future. I'm sick of it. I don't care what uni you're going to. I don't care what you're studying. I don't care if you're nervous, excited or unsure about the experience. I really don't care if you're looking forward to freshers or not, it doesn't matter either way we both know you're going to turn up at freshers, get too drunk one time and think you're now a ‘hardcore student’. Regardless of this it's the common ground we found and, wishing we were both into football I covered the usual topics as though ticking them from my checklist. After some dinner we had delivered I got a lift home and went to bed. 27th I was picking up stones in the field when Beret came to me and asked if I wanted to come to the police station to distribute to a group picked up trying to cross to Chios that morning. Yes. Of course I did. We got in the car and drove to the shop picking 48 bottles of water and countless loaves of bread. We then drove to the cafe and picked up toys for the children and tinned beans. 200 metres down the road was the police station which was right on the sea front between 2 fancy bars. I nearly walked straight past it but the others turned in and we walked up the narrow steps into a courtyard. I was expecting to find 15 or so refugees sat in a hostile, white synthetic room with water coolers and cork boards. This was not the case, 30 or so refugees sat in the courtyard struggle to find shade from the midday heat. We went round handing out bread, water and toys for the children. The groups ranged from large families of women and children to couples to lone men. I didn't find out where they were from which would have such an impact on their future. It seems strange to think how these people could be treated so differently to me due to their place of birth. How they could be treated so differently to each other depending on whether they were Syrian or Iraqi. During my visit we were fortunate to be supervised by a nice police officer. He was friendly, opening a tin of beans for us and even fetching another loaf of bread when we ran out. We are lucky in Cesme that the police station is quite nice to give us a call when they've made arrests so that we can come and offer some relief. We're lucky in Cesme, to have quite a cooperative police station which will call us when they've made arrests. Sometimes they'll feed them, sometimes they won't. The police argue they don't have enough money to spend on food for refugees. Some policemen aren't as nice as the one we were supervised by today. Every volunteer who has spent a significant amount of time in a camp has witnessed violence from police officers. The worst thing as a volunteer is in these sorts of situations there's nothing you can do. If you interfere you jeopardise the relationship with charity and police which endangers the welfare of far more future refugees than the one receiving the beating. The situation reminds me of that of Rwanda when the UN force was sent in during the mass genocide with a mandate that wouldn't allow them to interfere with violence. Cases were reported where UN officers had to stand by whilst they watched the slaughter of men,women and children. The effects of the genocide has given both murderers and UN officials PTSD. I'm sure this crisis will do the same. I'm fortunate not to have witnessed much violence in my brief time volunteering. It's seems silly that in the total 4 or 5 days I've spent in the presence of both refugees and law enforcement that I should feel fortunate not to have witnessed grave violence. Cesme police station treats it's detainees well to a point. They often leave it a few hours until they call us, leaving refugees to grow more and more uncomfortable and hungry in the midday sun. I see no point in treating refugees poorly in detention. Some argue that it's to act as a deterrent, to teach them a lesson. These people are willing to risk their lives to get to Greece a few hours of discomfort is not going to do well as a deterrent. The proof of this is easy to find, today I heard of a man that had attempted the crossing 8 times unsuccessfully. So why not treat these poor people as human beings and not animals to be punished for attempting to improve their lives. 28th The news came that last night a boat had sunk attempting to make the crossing. 7 dead, 10 alive. It shook me a little as I'd been to a departing beach just days before, met with refugees that had attempted the crossing just yesterday. It made me think and question whether I doing all I could at this moment in time. Surely it's more important to save lives than to improve them. But what life can you lead without the possibility of betterment? Just crossing your fingers and hoping that you'll be able to save enough money over the summer to feed yourself for the winter. I was told in Calais that whatever we do will never be enough and it's true. You can be working 20 hours a day 7 days a week and you won't think that it's enough. All we can hope to do is improve lives little by little to a point where they can start to improve them on their own.

Jewish Activism/Non-action

The Boycott

          American Jewish activism against the Nazi regime actually began much earlier than I had suspected. In the early 1930s when Hitler first came to power in Germany, Jewish organizations created a protest movement to boycott German goods. This boycott did impact Hitler’s anti-Semitic regime slightly, due to Hitler’s goal to jump-start the German economy, and his fear of the impact a foreign boycott could have. However, the extent of damage the boycott could have done to the Nazi regime with a larger support base is unknown[1].

           Surprisingly, many Jewish groups opposed the boycott. The American Jewish Committee, Bnai B’rith, and the American Jewish Joint Distribution Company, all feared that if they endorsed the boycott, they would lose the support of the American government. Instead, these organizations focused their efforts on loyalty to President Roosevelt’s policy in an attempt to not be seen as “drag[ging] America into a German conflict.” A prominent leader in the Jewish community, Rabbi Stephen S. Wise, originally did not support the boycott for the first seven months Hitler was in power. Thankfully, Samuel Untermyer, a successful Wall Street financer and noted advocate for Yiddish-speaking Russian Jews, persuaded Wise to change his mind.[2]These Jewish leaders show us today the importance of persistence in uniting a community to fight inhumanity.

The Voyage of St. Louis

           Another famous Jewish activist effort to rescue Eastern European Jews was the voyage of St. Louis[3]in 1939.[4]This voyage was organized by the American Jewish Joint Distribution Company in an attempt to gain entry into Cuba for the 930 refugees aboard.[5]Unfortunately, the passengers were denied access to Cuba, the United States, and Canada. Through diligent work done by the JDC the passengers were eventually granted entrance to Great Britain, the Netherlands, Belgium, and France. Although the refugees lived to see another day, those in continental Europe were eventually caught in German invasions; 245 passengers from the voyage were ultimately killed in the Holocaust.[6]

Rabbi Wise and the AJC

           In August 1942, Rabbi Stephen S. Wise, the most prominent leader of the Jewish community and a member of the American Jewish Congress, received a letter from a representative of the World Jewish Congress in Switzerland. The contents of the letter described Hitler’s meticulous goal to wipe out all Jewish culture in Eastern Europe. Wise, who was unwaveringly loyal to the Roosevelt administration, immediately brought it to the attention of the State Department. He was told to keep the letter to himself until further notice from the government. For three months, Wise kept the information private (although some historians dispute this but have little evidence to back up their claims) while awaiting approval from the government.[7]No matter his motives, three months passed by, and the public continued to be unaware of the extent of atrocities in Eastern Europe. Three months of wasted time, that could have been used for lobbying the government with facts regarding systemic murder. In my opinion, the hesitation to publish the evidence of the Holocaust was a miscalculation. I understand that in order to gain credibility Rabbi Wise wanted to wait for verification of the authenticity of the letter. However, with millions of lives at stake, and previous knowledge of the mass murder of Jews, I believe Rabbi Wise should have taken the risk and published the letter in an effort to shed light on the evil of the Nazis. He chose to wait, and it proves the fear many Jewish leaders had of defying the President.

           As influential the work of the AJC (American Jewish Congress) was, they chose to silence the voices of American Jews, in order to protect the Roosevelt administration. Their view was that activism would be more effective if handled behind closed doors. They believed if the public were to protest or voice their opinions on the blockage of Jewish refugees, their movement would dissolve into chaos. They actively approached rabbis and implored them not to speak about the Holocaust during their sermons. They refused to sponsor rallies that were organized to bring attention to the need for rescue in Europe. They also stood by Roosevelt’s decision not to accept Jewish refugees in times of crisis.[8]It is shocking for me to learn that this important Jewish organization chose to silence the community they represented over upsetting the government. Even though Roosevelt’s administration showed complete uninterest in Jewish rescue, even at times veiled anti-Semitism, the AJC stayed loyal to them. The failure of the AJC to choose their people over their president was a mistake, one that gave up the opportunity to make more of a difference and possibly save lives.

The Bergson Group

           The Bergson Group was an important activist group for Jewish rescue at the time of the Holocaust. This group faced opposition from the AJC due to their attempts to lobby the Roosevelt administration for a rescue campaign of the Jews in Eastern Europe. It is now public knowledge that the Bergson Group played a pivotal role in the establishment of the War Refugee Board, the American agency responsible for Jewish rescue in 1944. The Bergson Group also helped save over 200,000 refugees from Nazi occupied territory, by funding the rescue mission of Raoul Wallenberg in Budapest. The Bergson Group was very vocal and active in gaining support among Jews and non-Jews alike.[9]They never stopped fighting for rescue action even in the face of an unsympathetic government. Though few records of the Bergson Group’s efforts exist, they have finally gained their rightful place in history as saviors during the Holocaust.

Hollywood and Hitler:

           In an attempt to keep access to German markets open, many Jewish Hollywood executives catered to the anti-Semitic regime in Germany by refraining from producing any anti-Nazi films and even replacing their Jewish representatives with non-Jews. The intentions of this Jewish community seemed to be cold and uncaring of the fate of their heritage being wiped out in Eastern Europe. The human aspect of systemic murder was lost on this influential group, who could have turned the platform of film into an important tool for activism. The Jewish film-making community let go of an important opportunity that could have saved lives and instead turned their backs on their brothers and sisters abroad, for personal gain.[10]

[1]Medoff, Rafael. 2016. “American Responses to the Holocaust: New Research, New Controversies.” American Jewish History, no. 3: 379. http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=edsglr&AN=edsgcl.459349939&site=eds-live&scope=site.

[2]Medoff.

[3]Medoff.

[4]United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. “Voyage of the St. Louis.” Holocaust Encyclopedia. https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/voyage-of-the-st-louisAccessed: May 7, 2019.

[5]Medoff.

[6]United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.

[7]Medoff.

[8]Medoff.

[9]Medoff.

[10]Medoff.