SteveTony - Alternate Universe

Here are some Alternate Universe fics that I love. Don't forget to leave kudos and nice comments in every fic!

Food for the Heart, by LagLemon, 14 k >, Cooking, No Powers.

After being introduced to a gourmet food on a budget blog by Pepper (a gift for her elderly, cheapskate mother) Tony starts cooking again. The recipes are good, but the blog owner is even better. Still, Tony isn't so sure Captain America, the guy who runs the blog, can compete with Hot Bagboy, the gorgeous blond who works at the grocery store.

"Free to Good Home" by Captain_Panda, 7 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

"Oliver and Company" AU.

There's a great big world outside the box.

But it's a dog-eat-dog world, and Tony's just one cat. Then a stray dog comes along, looking for a friend.

A Day In Principal Stark's Office, by nannersmelo, 10 k > words, Steve Single Parent, Director Tony.

Tony Stark has his hands full with not only Stark Industries, but also his beloved mother's life project: The Maria Stark Academy, and as he enters his office in order to deal with a ferocious mother whose son was apparently assaulted by one of his brightest students, he was sure this day would culminate in nothing but a heinous headache. Little did he know - he was in for one hell of a surprise.

I Am the Night by gottalovev, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Tony Stark, Wizard Steve Rogers.

That's it. Tony is doomed. He rolls on his back, crosses his wings over his belly and closes his eyes. He'll await death here, misunderstood by the world to the bitter end.

C is for Calculus and Compromise, by heydoeydoey, 11 k>, Gifted AU, Post-Divorce, Angts with a Happy Ending.

Steve's just trying to give his prodigy daughter a normal childhood. Enter a meddling school administrator, Tony Stark, and too many lawyers.

tell you my love for you by jelliebean, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Based on Love Simon.

A guy at Shield High comes out on tumblr, anonymously. Tony thought he was the only gay guy on campus--not out, because of Howard--and sends him an email.

“Hey, Flying. Same here. I’ve got a secret too, and it’s like I’m hiding who I am, every day. From everyone. All the closest people to me. But I just can’t tell them. I’m gay, too. It feels like I’m putting on this mask, this shell of who I think they want me to be. Even though I don’t think my friends would judge me. I don’t know why. I just. I’ve got a secret. –Shell”

The guy seems great--amazing, even, and then Hammer has to step in and ruin it all.

Mergers & Acquisitions by Robin_tCJ, 33 k > words, Angst, sex as currency.

Steve Rogers is the CEO of the Rogers Corporation, which he built from the ground up. When he learns that Hydra International is making a bid for a hostile takeover of Stark Industries, he decides he has to do what he can to stop Hydra from overtaking the market and becoming an unstoppable, unethical conglomerate. Tony Stark asks for something Steve isn’t sure he should give, but he does it anyway – and it completely changes everything. But when Hydra keeps coming, Steve and Tony realize there’s more to this than they’d realized.

Meeting the Monsters by itsallAvengers, 23 k > words, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters.

Tony's at public school with kids his age for the first time in seventeen years, and he is determined that this year is gonna be his year. He's going to make friends. He's going to be popular. People will like him.

Unsurprisngly, none of that actually happens.

He does sort-of-maybe fall in love with a vampire in his class that everyone is terrified of, though. So... there's that.

(I Want You To See) The Darkest Side Of Me by ann2who, 45 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Post-World War II.

In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.

Gift With Purchase Remix by sabrecmc, 43 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, hooker Steve, Sugar Daddy.

Gift With Purchase Remix wherein Steve actually is a hooker. But for a Really Sympathetic Reason.

The Little Glass Screwdriver by ann2who, 19 k > words, Cinderella AU.

When Prince Steven is forced to find himself a bride, true love gets in the way. As the night of the grand ball unfolds, the prince meets a mysterious knight who might just change his entire life in a way he could have never imagined.

**Cinderella AU**

Covered in Lines by royal_chandler, 3 k > words, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - College/University, Age Difference.

He can’t lose sight of pale, deft hands that gesture on transitive verbs, an ink-stained thumb edging underneath Tony’s ribcage with an affection that can only be called dangerous.

half-wild and glimmering by deathsweetqueen , 15 k > words, Alternate Universe - Western, Prostitution.

“Give me a drink, Tasha,” Tony sighs as he lands in front of the bar. “I’ve had one hell of a day.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Have you really?” she asks, loftily, sliding a tumbler of whiskey along the well-polished wood.

Tony lets his head hang, the sweat beading on the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to put myself through today,” he sighs, wearily.

“I would not know. You will not let me work the rooms,” Natasha retorts, her voice a little strained, busying her hands in a dirty glass.

“I don’t let you work the rooms ‘cause you’re liable to kill anyone who touches ya the wrong way and we can’t lose that much of our business,” Tony reminds her, wryly amused, sipping at his whiskey. He shakes his head at the burn. “We peddle flesh, darling, not death.”

peers, fears and holiday cheers by jacobby, 24 k > words, Parent Tony Stark.

“He’s only two years older than you,” Tony finally says when the silence becomes too much to bear.

“Dad, Teddy is turning twenty-seven next year.”

“I am not dating your husband—”

“I’m not implying you are. I just want you to be...aware that he’s practically the same age as my husband.”

AKA

Tony Stark's new boyfriend is only two years older than his adult sons. Telling them is one thing, introducing them is another. What Tony doesn't expect is that the past always has a way of catching up to him, of biting him in the ass when he least expects it. Well, at least they're all together for the Holidays. What more can he ask for?

A Higher Form of War by sabrecmc, 292 k > words, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Historical Romance.

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

you can call me babe for the weekend by complicationstoo, 10 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, actor Tony Stark.

Tony left his small town for Los Angeles after high school, leaving behind everything to pursue his dream. Ten years later, he comes back for the first time and finds that some things are impossible to let go of.

Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be by iam93percentstardust, 72 k > words, Alternate Universe - Theatre.

Famed director Phil Coulson brings Shakespeare’s beloved play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to Broadway. This production though comes with a twist: a brief but passionate love affair between the faerie king, Oberon, and his attendant, Puck. In the roles of the two star-crossed lovers, Coulson casts America’s darling Steve Rogers, fresh off his third Academy Award, and Broadway royalty, Tony Stark. Steve quickly finds himself falling for the quick-witted and sarcastic actor but Tony is dating the stage manager. Unwilling to come between the seemingly happy couple, Steve steps back but all isn’t right behind the scenes and Tony may need him when everything falls apart.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza, 26 k > words, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Soulmates, Mutual Pining.

Sometimes, a voice whispers: you will never atone for your mistakes.

Tony believes that, believes it so strongly some days he drowns in it, but he still tries. Tries through Starfleet, tries through inventions, tries through missions. Then, one day, he meets his new Captain, and things change.

and teach this heart (how to beat with light), by starklystar, 40 k >, AU Hospital, Single parent Steve.

Eight years ago, at a funeral with a baby's cries ringing in his ears, Tony Stark decided to turn his life around. He's a genius, billionaire, philanthropist. What's so hard to adding 'doctor' to that list? And after that, it can't be that hard to add 'husband' and 'father' too, right? But the past has a way of haunting even the very best of us, and in any universe, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers have never had an easy love.

Featuring: drama, chaos, Peter's scheming, meddling friends, and doctors learning again that the heart can never be as simple as four chambers and four valves.

Catching Lightning in a Bottle by sabrecmc, 120 k > words, Alternate Universe - Sweet Home Alabama Fusion.

College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.

This does not go as he imagines.

Or, the Sweet Home Alabama AU that no one--well, okay, a few of you--asked for.

The Night Shift by weethreequarter , 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Hospital.

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Cake It Till You Make It by ChocolateCapCookie, 10 k > words, Kid Fic, Alternate Universe - Bakery.

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark have a lot in common. They're single parents, they own rival bakeries at the center of town... and they both hate each other's guts.

When a mix-up at Peter and Morgan's school has both fathers scrambling to prove they're the better baker, they do the mature, adult thing and compete in a bake-off. Between the mixing and the creaming, the baking and the icing, Steve and Tony find that hate is actually not that far from love.

Looking for Heaven by foxxcub, 31 k > words, Alternate Universe - Regency, Marriage of Convenience.

When young Lord Anthony Stark learns Steven Rogers has enlisted in the army, he thinks he's seen the last of his tiny, headstrong, haughty stable boy. But four years later, Lord Stark gets an unexpected visit from Steve, whose mother has fallen gravely ill and into financial ruin. Even more unexpected, Steve agrees to a shocking proposal: they will marry, giving Steve the necessary funds to save his mother, and Tony the much-needed reprieve from harassing would-be suitors. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. But as time goes on and circumstances arise, Tony begins to learn that keeping his heart away from his husband is easier said than done.

just a guy, standing in front of another guy by theappleppielifestyle, 12 k > words.

“It’s not real,” Tony says, still smiling, jaw twitching with effort. “The fame. It’s - I’m just a guy."

(Or, Notting Hill AU, with a twist.)

Mother of Exiles (A Titanic AU) by BladeoftheNebula, 21 k > words, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion.

“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Steve said, taking a deep breath to try and calm his breathing. “I met someone. A guy from first class.”

Dublin 1912: Steve Rogers is barely making ends meet, living in the tenement slums of Dublin. But a stroke of good luck gives him and his best friend the chance to change their fortune. Two tickets to America on board the RMS Titanic.

The Devil You Know by shetlandowl, 17 k > words, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Author/Novelist.

Best selling author Tony Stark revives the bodice ripper genre for a modern audience. From frisky gay cowboys to ravenous lesbian pirate queens, he consistently delivers riveting thrillers full of romance, drama, and the filthy, unapologetically kinky sex that has become his trademark specialty.

Tony has everything a man could dream of - horny, adoring fans, and boatloads of money. Or that's what he thought, until Detective Steve Rogers walks into his life and turns it all upside down.

Bears and Mountains and Lumberjacks Oh My! by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday), 24 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Lumberjack Steve Rogers.

It was supposed to be easy--go meet the reclusive artist and buy some art. And then came the broken down car. And the snowstorm. And the lumberjack with a face like a greek god. So yea, Tony is stuck in a cabin in the woods with a hot lumberjack till the storm clears. Could be worse.

Series: A Furious Vexation by Annie D (scaramouche), 18 k > words, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse.

A Steve/Tony post-apocalypse AU that exists pretty much just for the smut.

That Feline Beat by Tito11, 5 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

Presenting Steve and Tony in the Aristocats!AU

Tony and his three kittens have been kidnapped from their fancy Upper East Side apartment while their owners are away and deposited on the mean streets of Harlem. Unsure of where they are or how to get back home, they'll have to rely on street cat Steve to guide them. Will they get home safely? Will Tony's fear of abandonment cause him to drive away the best tomcat he's ever known? Only time will tell.

do you fondue? by calciseptine, 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting.

Tony has done crazy things in the name of food, but falling in love with Steve Rogers really takes the cake.

a glimpse of heaven's love by parkrstark, 13 k> words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Terminal Illnesses.

The child begins to empty his pockets. He starts to count coins on the counter. Tony huffs a little impatiently as he realizes most of them are pennies.

The cashier actually humors the kid and counts along with him. They reach 3 dollars and 54 cents before he shakes his head sadly. "Sorry, kid. There's not enough here."

The kid sounds close to crying. "I need these paints for my Papa. It's Christmas Eve and these...he doesn't have any. The doctors said he doesn't have long. I want him to have these. In case he meets Jesus tonight, I want him to paint one more time. Please."

Tony takes a step forward, arms still full of toys he's buying just because. He can cover this child's gift for his dying father. Money. Money is what he's good for.

"I'll buy them."

--

Or, the Christmas Shoes AU no one but me asked for.

If you survive first impressions, you're good to go by itsallAvengers, 3 k > words, Parent Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - No Powers.

The first time Peter Parker-Stark sees Steve Rogers, he may or may not be standing in direct path of the man's motorcycle.

His daddy is really not going to be happy about that one.

A Rat-ional Conclusion by BladeoftheNebula, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Parent Tony Stark.

He had a strong flurry of patients throughout the morning and by the time it rolled around to noon, he was just about worn out.

He walked out into the reception, stretching until he felt a satisfying pop. “Are we done?”

Bucky checked the screen. “Just about. One more before lunch - a rat, singular.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully straight forward then. “Great, let me know when they-”

He was interrupted by the bell over the door and looked up to see a little girl cradling a small animal carrier, being shepherded through the door by easily one of the hottest men he’d ever seen in real life.

Oh wow.

Tidal Pull by sabrecmc, 97 k > words, Octopus Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked.

After the American Civil War, Union soldier Steve Rogers takes a chance on an opportunity to sail with the Stark Trading Company down in the Caribbean. During a terrible storm, his ship is lost. To his surprise, he survives, and ends up stranded on an island that isn't quite as deserted as he first thinks.

Or, a reverse Little Mermaid tale where Steve has to fall for the fish-man.

Twelve Days by elysianprince, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Ghosts.

In which Tony finds himself in a town that looks like it crawled out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, trying to sell an inn he didn't know he owned, all while dealing with Steve Rogers, the resident ghost who has returned to haunt the inn each December during the twelve days of Christmas for the past seventy years. Tony has only one logical solution that benefits them both: break the curse that binds him - but falling for a man almost a century old wasn't among his plans.

She kissed me by S_Horne, 1 k > words, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting.

“Your mom kissed me.”

Steve blinked awake and lifted his head from his pillow to look over at the silhouette in the doorway. “What?”

“Your mom,” Tony reiterated. “She kissed me.”

“Yeah,” Steve said simply, “she does that.”

Hey! I hope I'm not bothering you, I just found your blog and I love it sm, and I saw you sometimes do cherik fic recs. Do you have any Canon divergence aus/fix it, preferably after Cuba, that are 30k or longer and have a happy ending? If not thats okay! You don't have to answer this. Have a wonderful day!

Hi anon, thank you so much. I’m happy you both like my blog and my recs. You are certainly not bothering me, and feel free to send me an ask any time. I have plenty of recommendations for you. Some of them diverge a bit from your request because I couldn’t help but recommend them as well. I will put a note on those who diverge from your request. As always, I only recommend fics I have personally read and enjoyed and I sincerely you love them too.

-Canon divergence aus/fix it, post Cuba, 30k or longer, with a happy ending cherik fic recs-

Not Half As Blinding- keire_ke

Summary: Cuban beach AU. Charles discovers that death does, in fact, solve everything.

Lay down beside me (so still and so soft) – C-Gracewood

Summary: A different take on the events of the film.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

When an Unstoppable Force Meets an Immovable Optimist – ToriTC198

Summary: "You are always trying to save me, Charles." Erik mused aloud. "Ever since you dove into the ocean and dragged me out. Did it ever occur to you that I might not be worth saving?"

A genuine smile broke out on Charles' face as he brightly answered, "No, my friend, not once. I have every confidence you are well worth saving. But, I never truly believed I could save you. You are not the sort of man who someone saves. The choice to be a better man has always been yours to make and I hold no illusions that I can make that decision for you. I simply have faith that one day you will save yourself. I only hope I am still at your side to witness it."

What if Erik and Charles had been able to find a middle ground in the end?

Take the First Option – ShowMeAHero

Summary: When Erik becomes unbalanced, Emma presents him with three options: go back to Charles for three months and learn to deal with whatever he has going have going on, lose his Brotherhood, or let Emma control his mind.

He really only has one choice.

Virtue to Which We Aspire – varlovian

Summary: Nine months after Cuba, Charles is found by Erik's Brotherhood in the smoldering ruins of an abandoned CIA base, exhausted but alive. As the only known survivor of the CIA's vendetta against mutants, recovering Charles' memory of the incident—which he admits to having forgotten—just became paramount.

But the harder they push, the closer Charles gets to breaking point. When he finally cracks, the X-Men and the Brotherhood will learn the truth, but it comes with a price...

Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed.

Some minds, once broken, will never be the same again.

The Waking of the Red King – rustingroses

Summary: When Charles' heavy injuries on the Cuban beach conspire to leave him in a coma and living in fantasy of his own making, Erik, the man who once threatened to divide the mutant cause, finds himself desperately trying to hold everything together. First of the Red King trilogy.

Wake Up and Smell the Pancakes –  Ayra Sei Ethari

Summary: In one universe, Erik left Charles. In another, he stayed. So what happens when the two Eriks get switched? "At first, Erik thinks he's dreaming. Then he realizes that this is Charles. Who is not paralyzed. And kissing him.

Rage and Serenity – MagickMaker, TheFangedGoblin

Summary: After Charles is shot on the beach, he is rushed to the hospital and paralysis is prevented. Ridden with guilt, Erik finds that he cannot leave him. He helps him heal, and eventually, Charles learns to trust him again. But when they set out to rescue Emma from the CIA and accept her onto their team, tensions rise. Will love keep Erik and Charles together despite their differences?

No Yesterdays on the Road – pocky_slash

Summary: It's been two months since Cuba and things are settling down for Charles, Erik, and the beginnings of their mutant school. Right up until Charles disappears, that is. Faced with the possibility that a bitter Emma Frost has kidnapped Charles, Erik is forced to team up with Moira to hunt down the remainder of the Hellfire Club. From there, they hope to locate Frost and retrieve Charles, without killing each other along the way.

(Or: Erik and Moira Drive Across the Country and Talk About Their Feelings.)

What Can We Do Without You? – SwoopSwoop

Summary: Charles and the boys were holding onto a secret more dear to them than their own lives when Charles disappears into the night; Erik is betrayed and finds himself returning to Westchester in the hopes that the government was just trying to trick him. All the while the boys are stuck in the middle, left guarding the secret from the man they are most afraid of finding out who is weaselling his way back into their lives alarmingly easily.

Note: Includes Mpreg, but don’t let that discourage you from reading it because it’s a really great fix-it.

Survival Instinct – Lindstorm

Summary: It’s been months since Charles pulled Erik out of the ocean, and Erik is beginning to wonder how many more times he can choose Charles, and still keep his vow to kill Shaw. Cooperating with the CIA is straining Erik’s patience. When a fact-gathering mission goes wrong and Charles is kidnapped, Erik is left trying to hold their mutant band together while Raven and the rest of them fall apart. No one can foresee how the mutant Charles meets in captivity will challenge all his assumptions about his own power, and twist Charles’ telepathy out of his control. In the race to stop Shaw's nuclear ambitions from coming to fruition, Charles makes a crucial misstep. Erik’s decision between Shaw and Charles takes on unexpected ramifications when [spoiler deleted].

Needles (Series) – Skull_Bearer

Summary: AU where everyone's born Dominant or Submissive

Once a Dominant and Submissive pair is born, they are linked to each other, no matter how far apart they are. This link doesn't actually tell the Dom or the Sub each other's thoughts, but it does allow them to know how the other's doing and serves as a reassurance that there's someone meant for them out there.

Another one of the reasons that Erik hates Shaw so badly is because Shaw managed to break Erik's link to his Sub. Now Erik doesn't even know if his Sub's alive because breaking a link like that can kill a Submissive.

Meanwhile, Charles hates himself for not yet having telepathy strong enough to contact and help his Dom, especially after feeling the pain his Dom was forced to go through. He truly believes that his Dominant is dead. Hopes it, some nights when he remembers how his Dom was forced to suffer. It's better than to think of his Dom still being forced to bear that pain.

And then Charles pulls Erik from the water

Time to Grow – zarah5

Summary: In which you'll find chess dates which aren't dates (or maybe Charles is wrong about that). -- Based on First Class, this turns (slightly) AU during the beach scene.

Note: This fic is less than 30k words but it’s such a fandom classic and just a great read if you love your fix-its.

Faults for Fixing – beren

Summary: Charles sees the events of the missile crisis and subsequent weeks when he uses Cerebro to touch the mind of a mutant with the power to see the near future. When he wakes up he is determined that he will not allow them to happen and he will not lose the people he loves.

Note: A bit less than 30k words long but another great read.

It’s like one of us woke up – kaydeefalls

Summary: "You came here for me," Charles said, meeting Shaw's gaze levelly. "So let's not waste any more time."

Canon!AU in which Charles and Erik do find Shaw in Russia.

Note: XMFC fix it, but the events in Cuba don’t happen. 

Afterlife – Anna (arctic_grey)

Summary: A year after Washington, Erik wakes up in excruciating pain as sudden awareness washes over him: Charles is dead. Erik has to adjust to yet another future: no extinction, just a world without Charles. But the death of his former friend leaves Erik weak and his powers drained. His quest for answers leads him back to Westchester, where Erik has to face his past with Charles and put together the puzzle pieces of what happened to the man he once cared for.

The Burdens We Long to Carry – arcapelago (arcanewinter)

Summary: When mutant-supporter and ally President Kennedy is assassinated and all pro-mutant progress is dismantled, Charles is no longer so confident that he's on the right side, and extends his hand to Erik after a year of animosity. They settle tentatively into their old partnership, but not everything is the same as it was--and not everything can be. When Hank develops a metal frame to move the lower half of Charles' body for him if he wants it, Erik offers the use of his mind and his ability in order to make it work. Both find out what they're willing to do for each other, and neither knows if it'll be enough to keep them together.

Other Futures Than These – midrashic

Summary: In which Cuba doesn't break them apart, but that doesn't mean that their futures are tied together. (Except that it does.)

A Days of Future Past AU where only one person can defeat the Sentinels and save the future: the man whose imprisonment and torture created them, and Charles Xavier's ex.

The Winter of Banked Fires – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles Xavier has returned from the dead -- but is lost within his own mind. Rogue has cast aside her own power and doesn't know where she fits in the world any longer. The production of synthetic Cure means mutantkind itself is newly at risk. And Magneto, turned human against his will, is in despair until the day he feels a familiar consciousness tugging at his own --

Set after X-3 (with much desperate fix-it applied), during XMFC, and every time in between.

dom antics

pairing: boyfriend!jeno x reader

genre: smut / slight fluff

warnings: soft dom!jeno, very slight degration, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), riding, unprotected sex (stay safe!)

prompts: none.

summary: a pleasant twist is always openly welcomed, but with your boyfriend’s inevitable nature, how will you present the idea?

requested by anon.

word count: 1.6k

note: anon I’m so sorry I’ve taken so long, this is most likely schedule because I’m on a short break to get my life together. when this is posted though, I hope this is what you wanted and I truly hope you enjoy it! and thank you for waiting! ps. I’m unable to add a “read more” option until a bug with my blog gets fixed.

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Eyes that creased exactly into moon crescents and a smile that made everyone want to squeeze his cheeks were not enough to fool you anymore, but they were small characteristics that also made you fall hopelessly in the beginning. Now you knew, those were meant to be seen, sure—but not what happened behind closed doors—not what happened to you, behind closed doors.

Jeno was far from being the sweet soul everyone thought he was, but at least some of his kindness managed to shine within the endless torture he’d sometimes put you through. Just for his amusement.

Your legs thrashed chaotically and unstoppably on the bed, you still had not even reached your first orgasm, but your boyfriend already had you feeling so riled up with his constant, teasing touches.

“Babygirl, we haven’t even gotten started,” Jeno chuckled with a hint of surprise in his voice. All he had been doing was mischievously kiss and suck at your neck for several minutes while his hands caressed your sides. You now laid on the soft mattress all at his mercy, legs still kicking desperately in annoyance at his lack of touches where it actually mattered—between your thighs. Soaked, and dripping, between your thighs.

“You have been teasing for so long.” You simply stated, rolling your eyes when he once again lowered his head to your neck, slightly wet lips pressing soothing pecks on your sensitive skin.

He continued to suck purples, reds and blues all around your neck and collarbones, occasionally shifting lower in the direction of your bare chest but never fully reaching your hard nipples. All because he felt like it.

You whined once again, back arching until your chest was pressed against his own, and Jeno could only smile at your impatience. He might be hard on you, constantly tricking you into believing you’d be finally receiving a different treatment other than the colorful masterpieces he never failed to leave on your neck, only to then later edge you to extreme heights that had you reaching the sky and touching the bright stars while tears streamed down your face at his unmerciful ministrations.

Still, even with the wet mascara staining your hot cheeks and your body constantly jumping at the oversensitivity while your lips spilled nonsense, there was always a small action of his paired with the rest of his ruthless movements that very slightly balanced everything. As a result, a special and unique moment was created.

“Use your words or I’ll carry on doing this until I force the begging out of you. What sounds better?”

You whined—again—and you had lost track of how many times you had already pathetically attempted to move his hands somewhere else; yet, they always returned to their previous position on your waist.

“P-Please Jeno, touch me! I’m so d-desperate for you to touch me.” The words left your lips in stutters, absolutely drowned in impatience you no longer cared how ridiculous you might sound.

Your boyfriend smiled, and there it was again, the eye creasing smile that had made you fall in love with him. Had it not made an appearance during the current situation, your cheeks would’ve immediately been painted pink and your hands would’ve quickly moved on their own to cup the boy’s face and lovingly press your lips against his. Right now, though, all you wanted to do was slap the look away.

“Yes, princess? Touch you? Where do you want me to touch you? Show me.” He cooed adorably, body still hovering over yours as he lovingly pecked your cheeks and forehead.

You nodded, gently taking his bigger hand in yours and guiding downwards; down, down, down, until it was innocently resting over your warm heat, barely convered by your sheer, lace underwear. Silently, you moved his remaining hand up to your lonely tit before locking eyes with him, the gaze enough to let him know just how much you wanted this.

He wasted no time in tearing the fabric off your pussy, but you were too far drunk on his touches to muster out any complaints. Instead, you whimpered more, absolutely impatient after being teased for so long.

“You’ll have to shut up if you even remotely want any of this, you know?” He whispered sinfully in your ear, fingers running up and down through your wet folds playfully. “My pretty, little slut.”

Jeno plunged two fingers into your hole with no warning whatsoever, setting a fast pace right away that had your legs thrashing around the sheets once again and both your hands covering your mouth to stop any sounds of pleasure from spilling. He curled, and caressed your sweet spot; he knew all your weaknesses and favorite places better than you ever could.

Your back continuously arched off the bed, clit occasionally rubbing against his wrist every time you raised your hips. His free hand left your breast, instead replacing it with yours before taking hold of your legs and wrapping them around his neck. In no time your boyfriend was diving into your pussy, tongue swirling around or llicking at your sensitive nub and folds that shined with your juices, all while a third finger was added into your clenching walls.

“J-Jeno, I’m going to cum.” You whimpered, unable to remain quiet any longer as you pinched at your nipples in ecstasy.

“Nonsense.” He replied, a whine leaving you when all ministrations came to a halt. He moved his face away from your cunt, all for you to admire the light sheen of your wetness on his chin and pink lips. “You’ll cum with my dick.”

You nodded desperately, if it weren’t for the current scenario he would’ve surely laughed at how impatient you were for his cock. Yet, he didn’t, because he was just as excited to fuck you deep into the mattress and tell you how good of a girl you are. Right?

A thought that had been on your mind for a few weeks now struck you once again, and you fiddled with your fingers nervously as you scanned over the boy who was currently undressing himself.

He must’ve noticed your sudden state of daze, hand gently guiding your chin so your eyes would stare back at him. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked once, twice; eyes immediately looking elsewhere before you confessed, “could I try riding you today? If you aren’t fine with the idea then we can just forget it though—”

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” Your eyes locked with his brown orbs, the slight nod of his head and the smile that adorned his lips enough to assure you.

Soon, you were straddling Jeno, his hands gripping at your waist as you lowered yourself down onto his angry cock, the tip red and swollen as precum ran down the sides.

Moans left the two of you as you took all of him, a groan falling off his lips once he was fully settled deep inside your warm walls, the feeling heavenly and like none other he had felt before. Now, he wondered why he hadn’t asked you for this any earlier.

“Baby, you take my dick so well. So full of it. Good fucking girl.” He gritted out, lips gingerly kissing at your neck before nuzzling his face into your tits.

You began moving ever so slightly, slowly moving up and down his dick to test the waters. You had no idea what you were doing, but it felt incredible for the both of you. The tip of his dick kissed at your sweet spot with no problem, eliciting whimpers that rumbled from your chest and shocks of shivers that ran down your spine.

Jeno continued to suck on one of your nipples, your movements becoming faster and faster by the minute, and in no time—you were bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick as if you had been doing it for years.

“Fuck!” He groaned, letting you take full control of the pace while the bed creaked loudly, the sound of skin slapping and your unholy sounds the only thing that echoed between the four walls you were in. “You are doing so well, baby, so so good.”

He could only bask in the feeling of his cock sliding against your slick walls, constantly reaching the deepest parts of your heat deliciously as it clenched around his throbbing shaft.

“J-Jeno, I won't last much longer—”

He caressed your sides gently before thrusting up into your hole, and you wordlessly thanked him with a passionate kiss as the burning in your thighs gradually went away. Jeno pulled you closer to his body, loving the feeling of your tits bouncing against his chest before bringing one hand to your clit, rubbing quick circular motions and eventually prompting your much awaited release after so much teasing.

His hands held your shaking body tenderly, rubbing at your back soothingly as his movements abruptly stopped and ropes of his cum filled your hole, the white substance trickling down your thighs not too much long after.

He sighed, hips slightly grinding into you while you rested your face limply on his shoulder, pressing light kisses on your cheeks as the both of you came down from your highs.

“You should ride me more often.” Jeno smiled, carefully moving your body off his member and laying you down on the fluffy sheets. He threw on some new underwear and sweats and returned from the bathroom with a warm washcloth to clean the dried juices from your thighs.

You smiled back at him, eyes threatening to flutter close as you jumped at the oversensitivity whenever the cloth got too near your heat. “Really? I thought you wouldn’t like the idea since you always like being in control.”

“Correction—I’m still in control, that’s why I’m letting you fuck me.”

“Of course.” You snorted, watching him get rid of the cloth before joining you on the bed, immediately snuggling up to him and resting your cheek on his bare chest.

“We should probably take a shower soon.” He whispered, fingers running through your hair.

“Later. I know what a shower together usually means, you pervert.”

“You know it. I love you.”

Q: What is this?

A: It’s a flyer for a virtual fundraiser on June 4th that Elite Gymnastics is playing. You can access the show at quietyear.com

Q: Hasn’t Elite Gymnastics been inactive for like, ten years?

A: Yes. This is the first Elite Gymnastics performance of any kind since November 30th 2012, at the Horn Gallery at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio. 

Q: Why did Elite Gymnastics stop playing shows?

A: Elite Gymnastics started out as me (Jaime) and a bunch of my friends agreeing to help me play my songs live back in 2009. I made a lot of weird demos in GarageBand and my friend Dominique Davis from the band Dearling Physique got tired of watching me sit on them. So, he booked me to play at a show he was curating as part of a small local music and arts festival called Clapperclaw. For several months that’s mainly what EG was. At some point the focus shifted to making recordings rather than playing shows, to participate in the emergent culture of new music distributed via MP3 file-sharing. The lineup winnowed to just me and Josh Clancy, who began creating digital EPs that we posted on this Tumblr page as ZIP files full of MP3s accompanied by a PDF of artwork. This is the incarnation of the group that most people are familiar with.

This was before Patreon existed. If Bandcamp was around, we’d never heard of it. Though MP3 file-sharing culture and file transfer sites like MediaFire and MegaUpload allowed anyone to distribute music freely across the world via the internet, it was still pretty difficult to get people to pay you for it. I think it was for this reason that a lot of internet music back then featured a lot of sampling. A lot of artists’ first forays into the world of DAWs and production took the form of mash-ups, bootleg remixes, and DJ mixes. Artists like Animal Collective, MIA, Kanye West, and Daft Punk for whom sampling was a pillar of their creative process were extremely influential. Elite Gymnastics was no exception - the first song of ours to gain traction online was “Is This On Me?” which made no attempt to hide the fact that it heavily sampled Faye Wong’s “Eyes On Me.” The fact that it was so difficult to make money off MP3s pushed people to make different creative decisions than they would have otherwise. It was sort of a free-for-all.

Eventually, all of this started to change. The major labels started getting a lot more aggressive about trying to destroy MP3 file-sharing culture. Platforms like MegaUpload were raided and taken offline. The replacements that sprung up to replace them were increasingly infested with ads and malware. Corporate platforms like YouTube and SoundCloud adopted Content ID filters to prevent the proliferation of copyrighted music there. Blogs and private torrent trackers being taken down meant thousands of hours of labor were wiped out in an instant. Some of the best archives of the history of recorded music ever created were destroyed without hesitation. Even the most devoted participants lost the will to keep repairing and re-making the stuff that cops and record companies kept obliterating.

Josh and I both dreamed of being able to make a living as musicians. We still do. Back then, we were willing to accept a lot of changes in order to make that possible, which seemed necessary. A lot of the stuff that we were great at just didn’t make any money. Once, we were asked to do a remix of a song called “Sa Sa Samoa” by the band Korallreven. I did the remix by myself, which was normal for us, and Josh was so inspired by it that he spent a week working non-stop to create a video for it. People loved it - the day the video dropped, Pitchfork designated the song as a “Best New Track” and New York Magazine wrote about it in their “Approval Matrix.” The video led to a ton of exposure, but from a financial perspective, it just did not make sense to put that much effort into promoting a remix of someone else’s song. The stuff we were personally excited by just seemed to have less and less to do with what actually makes money.

A lot of internet bands during this era began to palpably shapeshift in an effort to succeed in music as a career. Artists who’d first attracted notice for sample-based bangers they made on a laptop started posing with vintage hardware in their press photos and trading in their laptops for live bands and recording studios. It became harder to distribute DJ mixes or mash-ups that contained copyrighted music in them. Influential bloggers either closed up shop or were absorbed into the traditional music industry in some way. Feeds that once touted bizarre songs by laptop-toting weirdos with no industry connections started to become populated mostly by artists with labels and publicists. The bottom rungs of festival lineups started to consist mostly of new major label signings who have lots of money to spend on stage production but not much in the way of grassroots fan enthusiasm or media buzz. 

Internet music and what people tend to refer to as “indie music” split off into two separate streams. Today, there’s a pretty intense firewall between internet culture and whatever you want to call the culture of vinyl records, mid-sized indie labels with publicists, and positive reviews from the few remaining websites that still pay people to write about music. I call it “publicist indie,” “lifestyle techno,” or “prestige electronica” depending on whether or not the music features guitars and/or vocals. The recent online kerfuffle about NFTs really emphasized this split. The worlds of digital illustration and game development campaigned aggressively against mass adoption of cryptocurrency - if you saw any Medium posts explaining crypto’s environmental issues, chances are they were written by someone from those fields. Every new announcement by an artist that they had minted an NFT was met with a swift and vocal backlash from fans. Though I’ve never really been much of an Aphex Twin fan, it was still pretty startling to look at the replies under his NFT announcement tweet and see hundreds of furious people announcing that he was now dead to them. That’s an artist who has seemed more or less unimpeachable for most of my life up until this point! All of that seemed to change in an instant.

There is a massive disconnect between the insular world of the industry establishment and the cutting edge of online counterculture. We saw this again a couple of weeks ago with the online response to the crisis in Gaza. We saw passionate advocacy for Palestinians from games journalists and developers much more often than we saw it from musicians. This is a very serious problem for music! I do not believe it is possible to please both sides - that is to say, I do not believe it is possible to be part of internet counterculture and the industry establishment simultaneously. The music industry is too conservative, too compromised, too corrupt. If it weren’t for the ocean of valuable copyrights that labels are sitting on, most of them would be bankrupt within a year. If the industry was forced to live or die based on how they handle what’s happening right now in the present, it would most assuredly die. The only people who don’t realize this are those who are being paid to stay ignorant. 

Josh and I did not know this back then. From where we were standing, it looked like internet culture and established media industries were on track to converge. A career in the arts seemed genuinely, tantalizingly possible, right up until the moment that it no longer did. 

In my case, I had really been struggling up until that point. My life had been this ongoing sequence of evictions and hospitalizations, and it seemed to be getting worse, not better. I donated plasma twice a week to pay for groceries and while I was sitting there with a giant needle stuck in my left arm for an hour I would see my picture in The Fader or my songs being recommended by one of the Kings of Leon on Twitter or whatever. Music seemed like the only thing the world thought I was any good at. It felt like my only chance at a peaceful, happy life was somewhere out there in a world I could only perceive through a laptop screen. 

Gender, for me, was a big factor in all of this. The more invested in the craft of songwriting I became, the harder it was to repress or ignore my gender stuff. At that time I’m not sure I even knew what the word “transgender” meant - I just knew that when I showed up at a venue wearing a skirt, no one would talk to me or look me in the eye, and that reading about people like Anohni or Terre Thaemlitz or on the internet made me feel like if I could get out of Minneapolis maybe I could find a place where people would accept me. The internet was like, a pretty toxic place for someone in my position. When I tried to find people to talk to about what I was feeling, nobody tried to tell me to read Judith Butler or ask me what pronouns I preferred. The internet was just like, overrun with predators who just wanted to fetishize me and exploit me. Music seemed like the only way I’d ever have an actual life as myself. I was desperate for that. I was well and truly desperate.

Between all the big changes that were happening to us individually and the music industry moving farther and farther away of the anarchic free-for-all of MP3 file-sharing culture, the strain on us just got to be too much. We stopped trusting each other. We became the unstoppable force and the immovable object, crashing haphazardly against one another’s resolve in a dazzling display of youthful futility. Our partnership ended, and after finishing out the remaining live shows on the calendar by myself, I retired the name “Elite Gymnastics” and started making music on my own under other names. That was that.

Q: Why is Elite Gymnastics coming back now, then?

A: Over the years, Josh and I eventually started talking again. Though there was a lot we did agree on, and potential future projects were discussed, nothing truly felt right. We haven’t been in the same room since Summer 2012, and we’ve both changed a lot since then. We both have other projects and we’ve both developed other ways of working since we stopped working together. It’s a pretty big commitment to put all of that aside in order to join your fortunes together with someone you haven’t seen in a decade.

Recently, Josh decided to leave Elite Gymnastics. His reasons are his own, and I was very surprised by his decision, but after having had time to adjust, I’m really grateful to him. I had kept these songs at a distance for many years, because it seemed foolish to allow myself to get too attached to songs I didn’t feel like I was allowed to think of as mine, if that makes any sense. The songs felt like casualties of a conflict that I had to bury in the ground and try to forget about. Being able to embrace them again felt like re-growing a severed limb or having a loved one come back to life, almost. Feeling like it was safe to love these songs again made me feel whole in a way I didn’t expect to. I became really excited by the prospect of revisiting them, so that’s what I decided to do.

Q: Does this mean you’re going to put RUIN back on Spotify?

A: No. Taking the record off Spotify was the right thing to do. That record was only ever intended to exist during the era of MP3 piracy. I never envisioned a world where the music industry would be so aggressive about policing the way that copyrighted music is allowed to exist online. If we hadn’t opted to take the record down when we did, someone would inevitably have forced us to. If you want to hear those specific recordings again, you’re going to have to do it the way we originally intended: by downloading MP3 files from the internet. Try SoulSeek.

Q: What’s next for Elite Gymnastics, then?

A: Here’s the situation currently. There is no Elite Gymnastics music available to stream or purchase in an official capacity anywhere on the internet. It wouldn’t really be possible for me to put the old stuff on Spotify or Bandcamp now because of all the samples. Like I said before, it was a different time. Those records were created to thrive on a past version of the internet that no longer exists. They weren’t designed to be compatible with the 2021 internet.

Technically, Elite Gymnastics didn’t ever release a debut album. We had EPs, a compilation, and a remix collection. We didn’t make an album, a record that existed as the distillation of all that experimentation that contained all of the songs that fans of the EPs would want to hear, all in one place. It’s like we did Good Fridays but stopped before we made My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

So, I am currently working on the first Elite Gymnastics album. If you were following my stuff as Default Genders, you may have noticed me posting demos on my SoundCloud page from 2015-2018 that were all eventually reworked into the album Main Pop Girl 2019. The album I am making is taking that approach to all the old EG songs, including some unreleased stuff. I’m collaborating with others on some songs and I honestly feel like it has resulted in some of the best and most exciting music I have ever been involved with. It is a drastic reinvention, but iteration and reinvention have always been a big part of what I do. I want to make something that feels like the culmination of everything that came before, and so far, I think I’m succeeding.

Q: When will I be able to hear this new music?

At a virtual fundraiser on June 4th, 2021, where there is a suggested donation of $10. You can access it at quietyear.com

EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART 1) Last week I was swept away, helpless, by the avalanche that is the Sanremo Song Festival and I am still recovering. For your safety, I’ve tried to keep the insanity contained on my Italian side blog. But I want to try to offer you a rough summary of what I’ve learned. Sanremo inspired the Eurovision Song Contest. Over five nights, 24 acts, each with a brand new song, compete at the Ariston theatre in Sanremo for a tacky little golden lion, and the glory of being the year’s Song for Italy. 2020 marked the 70th Sanremo, so depending on who you ask, it’s a venerable national treasure or it’s stale and embarrassing (Many Italians are sick of it. Or say they are, but see below.) It is also an EPIC STRUGGLE between THE FORCES OF GOOD AND EVIL FOR THE SOUL OF HUMANITY Let’s meet some of the protagonists: 

AKA: host Amadeus, entertainer and comedian Rosario Fiorello, il Bel Paese, and competitor Achille Lauro.

Amadeus got things off to a bad start before the show even began by praising his various female co-hosts - all seasoned TV professionals - for their beauty and their ability to stay “a step behind a man.” Outrage ensues, Amadeus claims he did not mean it like that, but keep this in mind for later. Also competing are Morgan (below, left) and Bugo (below, right.), who are performing a duet.

Going in, the one thing I know about Morgan is that on more than one occasion, he trashtalked my beloved and blameless Fabrizio Moro. So I hate him and want him to suffer. And apparently he has quite the reputation for throwing tantrums, picking on fellow-artists and sabotaging events he’s part of. But hey. He’s supposedly talented and Bugo clearly thinks he deserves another chance.  And we’re off!

Irene Grandi kicks things off with  “Finalmente Io” (“Finally Me”). But I’m starting with her not so much because she’s the first to sing as because I don’t think the song’s  got enough attention -- either for the fact that it bangs or for what it represents in the drama that’s about to unfold.

Finalmente Io is what, in the business, we call foreshadowing.

There’s a magical thing that happens to women with when they turn 40. The  develop Not-Giving-A-Fuck superpowers. The song is basically about that. It’s about freedom, and self-acceptance, and being 100% done with male bullshit. (It's also a bit of an ADHD anthem but let’s leave that aside for now.)  “I’ve lost all my patience, and all my fragility,” she sings. 

And, “If you want sex, let’s do it now. Heeeeeeere.”

Irene is the portent everyone misses, a harbinger of what is to come. 

Think of her as John the Baptist.  Onwards. So the first thing one discovers about the Sanremo Festival is that just because we have to get through 24 “big” acts AND 6 (?) new/junior artists, and they all have to perform multiple times, that doesn’t mean there’s any RUSH. Guest singers wander on and perform a song or ten. There’s comedy. We can stop everything to talk about football.  A lady comes on and talks for a million years about how her granny taught her that True Beauty is Found Within. There are also speeches about important subjects like violence against women. In fact, we are going to talk about that a lot, but also a bunch of competent and experienced female TV personalities are stuck taking turns at playing Amadeus’s Glamorous Assistant of the evening and he can’t shut up about how beautiful they all are while they cringe and lean subtly away from him. So it’s ... slow, and awkward, but within its own cheesy terms, things are normal. Too normal. Enter Achille Lauro. 

Softly, almost whispering, he begins to sing a song called  “Me ne frego”  (”I don’t care” - but with an edge of “fuck you”). This is both an everyday Italian expression and a fascist motto. Well, it was till now. 

A nation is convulsed. Right-wing Italian boomers are screaming because YOU! CAN’T! DO! THAT! AT! SANREMO! THERE! ARE! CHILDREN! WATCHING! Italian Tumblr, which like the rest of Tumblr is feral, thirsty and gay, is screaming for different reasons entirely. 

Achille, you scandalous creature, what have you done? What have you got to say for yourself?

Something strange and magical  has released and it cannot be contained. On with the songs. Good songs, bad songs, blah songs. I like “Tikibombom” by Levante - a love letter to weirdos and rebels, “Rosso di Rabbia” (Rage Red) by Anastasio about being, well, angry but scared you can’t do anything useful with it, and “Eden” by  Rancore, about... the nature of sin?? touching on everything from September 11 to the mafia to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.   However, this contest is being judged (mostly - it’s complicated) by an industry jury of FOOLS, COWARDS, and TRAITORS who KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO, so virtually all of the above artists are so far languishing towards the bottom of the provisional rankings. Achille ends up in 17th place and  Rancore at 22.

Truly, the light hath shone in the darkness and the darkness knoweth it not.

LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO RANCORE. 

Rapper down, repeat RAPPER DOWN. SEND HELP.

However, for people who went in implacably biased against Morgan, it’s not all bad news. "Sincero” (Sincere) by Morgan and Bugo is in last place. Whether this is anything to do with the song or because Morgan is a nightmare of a person who has systematically alienated everyone in the Italian music industry except the trusting Bugo ... we can but ponder.  Sanremo grinds on. Days blur into each other and I’m not even going to try to cover events in exact order. Sanremo knows no order. Sanremo is like the universe, linear time is a construct that doesn’t really exist, and chaos happens very, very slowly.  But meanwhile, somewhere on the astral plane:

At least that is what I deduce must have happened.

The competitors and guests look deep within themselves. Do they have what it takes? Are they ready to answer the call? 

Let’s see! It’s Covers Night! Which is also Duets Night!

That’s Elettra Lamborghini (yes, that Lamborghini) and Myss Keta.

 Are they in tune? No. Does it matter? ALSO NO.

Meanwhile ... something strange is brewing between Amadeus and Fiorello...

 But wait, PLOT TWIST.

Enter Roberto Benigni.

The beloved actor and director is the latest avatar of the Dionysian frenzy that has chosen Sanremo 2020 for the place of its birth. He is the One who will unite the electric queer mayhem and the impossible grinding tedium  of Sanremo. In him, the two strains will fuse and become unstoppable. He is going to talk about sex for twenty-six minutes

He reads from the Song of Songs, which ... I knew it was sexy, and all, but is it really like that? Do you ever think about NAKED BODIES? Roberto does. Do you believe in PHYSICAL LOVE? Roberto wishes you would. Anyway, just think of all the sex we could all be having, literally right now, right heeeeere, whether we are  “a woman, and her man. Or a man and his man. Or a woman, and her woman!” He is awful. He is magnificent. He is excruciating. He is spellbinding. We are hanging on his every word and we are considering chewing our own arms off to escape. He proposes an orgy in the orchestra pit. 

Hand on heart, all of that happened. Italian Tumblr, bear witness.

And what of Achille Lauro? He unleashed this madness upon us all,  is he just going to sit back and let everyone else do all the work? Of course not. Achille Lauro came to bring not peace, but a sword, to the world of toxic masculinity and gender in general and his work is not yet done.

”I too was once a little girl,” Achille sings.

Dressed as Bowie-as-Ziggy, Achille duets with Annalisa on “Gli Uomini Non Cambiano” - “Men Don’t Change”. It’s a heartbreaking song by Mia Martini from 1992 about male abuse of women, and not a single word, or a single pronoun has been changed.

However, although he’s the one in the competition, and the one dressed to dazzle, he leaves Annalisa the spotlight. It’s like she’s the tortured protagonist of the song and he’s a voice in her head, a sympathetic spirit who can’t swoop in to rescue her but can quietly affirm that she deserves better than the the hellish treatment she’s singing about. in fact, he pointedly stays a step behind her at all times. And she’s majestic. 

Of course, he’s not fucking DONE

He’s still got to sing “Me Ne Frego” again. Can he top the cape-drop? You be the judge.

So Italian Tumblr,  is now writhing on the carpet,  making a sound only bats can hear, and shitposting itself into delirium, but has it all been ENOUGH?

NO.

Poor Rancore has died again. Toxic masculinity still exists. Amadeus is still pretty gross. Everyone is going to have to GAY HARDER. CAN THEY DO IT? This post is, like Sanremo itself, getting insanely long, so ... STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO, in which Fiorello’s true nature as a chaos being is revealed, Amadeus faces his Calvary, and the gun on the stage goes off.  ----- UPDATE: Part 2 is here

How do you feel about Dick trying to change Kory from the NTT days? Like stopping her from using her powers to its maximum potential. Do you really think they are meant for each other if they conflict so much when it comes to killing policy? asking as a dickkory fan, just to see other's point of view :)

What a fantastic question. I actually wrote a little about this during my discussion of Kory in Red Hood and the Outlaws on my main blog. However, in that post I mostly talk about the negative, so let me reassure you that I definitely still think they are meant for each other. 

Dick and Kory as a story are really about balance. It’s about balancing two different extremes to create something arguably better for everyone. For instance, Dick Grayson is about as human as it gets, hot-tempered because he can’t keep his emotions in check, logical, always thinking about work. While Kory is the exact opposite, emotionally wise, free, and passionate because she allows herself to feel. Both characters are great on their own, but together they’re incredible.

However you’re right. In some senses, especially with Kory’s more violent tendencies, Dick holds her back. In my RHATO discussion I talk about how this limits her power and how when she lets go she becomes practically unstoppable. However, in NTT this was a hotly contested issue with the between the both of them, to the point where it was the main thing they fought about. The argument even appeared in Convergence: New Teen Titans as it was such a core piece of the original comic.

In a sense, DickKory here is used as means to discuss this topic more in depth, and actually a topic talked about a lot in the superhero genre. Yet, I think what is most important is how they deal with the issue. I mean, all couples have disagreements and fights from time to time. What matters is that it doesn’t affect the rest of the relationship, and in truth, it doesn’t. Time and time again both of them were able to come to an agreement. Dick learns that he can’t always hold her back, as long as she follows Earth law while on Earth, and Kory eventually learns the value of life in the Apartheid arc, vowing never to take another life

That’s not to say that everything is magically fixed, but one thing that’s so important about Dick and Kory is that they communicate. They are not a couple who just gives each other the silent treatment or forces each other to guess why the other is upset. Instead, they talk out their disagreements and eventually come to healthy conclusion that works for the both of them. That’s what a real relationship is about.

- Mod Mar’i

Congratulations, REY! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE HERMIT with the faceclaim of LUCY BOYNTON. History loves a revolutionary, and there’s no doubt in my mind that this sentiment will extend to Marceline. I could feel her desperation to be part of something bigger than herself -- maybe even larger than her father’s ambitions -- they practically leapt right off the page. I felt for her in her loss, ached for her in her need for revenge, empathized with the pain and appreciated her determination to change things for the better. The Hermit has the potential to be small-scale, but you’ve taken her far beyond that, and I cannot wait to see what Marceline does on the dashboard! 

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

OOC

NAME: Rey PRONOUNS: She/Her AGE: 25+ TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: PST. Because I am currently working from home, I would say on a scale of 1 to 10, I am a 7. I try to log on at least once a day. ANYTHING ELSE?: Just how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood!

IN CHARACTER

SKELETON: The Hermit NAME: Marceline Ash Pelagius FACECLAIM: 1. Lucy Boyton 2. Lindsey Morgan AGE: 22

DETAILS: I’ve chosen the Hermit because she reminds me so much of the French republican youths that got involved after the French Revolution (as most famously depicted in Les Misérables) and I’d love to dig into the historical parallels. Like Enjorlas, Marceline is born into wealth, but she sheds herself of this reputation and becomes a bleeding heart for the revolution.  (Also like Enjorlas, she’s a “charming young (wo)man who is also capable of being terrible.”)

Revolutions rarely begin with noble aims, even if the outcome might not suggest so. For Marceline, revolution begins with vengeance. Her attempts to get closer to the Fool and the guards of the city in order to avenge her father’s death opens her eyes to the social and political inequalities of the kingdom. What was once simply about revenge is now about so much more. She’s a woman who knows she wants to kill a king, but her reasons for deciding to do so only keep growing with time. Before long, she begins to assume her father’s radical political beliefs: tear down the monarchy and replace it with a republic. I find myself drawn to dedicated characters with unyielding drives - especially ones whose moral compass seems so set but will in actuality change at the shift of a tide in order justify their end goals.

Marceline is very much  a person to be reckoned with. Her fight becomes a fight against her own grief, her unknown magic and the monolith of monarchy. Each of these seem to be an immovable object, but she is the unstoppable force that beats against them. The Hermit tarot card can signify someone who is taking too much time for self reflection or too little. In the case of Marceline, she is someone who thinks she knows herself well enough to simply act; she is so set on her path that true self-reflection is something she doesn’t spend enough time on.

BACKGROUND:

You know this is not a rebellion, you know it’s a revolution.

You are born of a noble house, the only child, last of your name. Your mother is revered in court as the Keeper of Coins. She has a mind for finances and business, though you inherit the steel of her spine and the cut of her jib more than anything else. If you trace her lineage far back enough you’ll see that before nobility came piracy and maybe that’s why she’s always been so good with gold. She’s a smart woman with a sharp eye that upholds her family’s reputation by being someone that can sniff out a poor deal or a tampered book with ease. She’s never really sailed the seas, but you can see that she misses it. And thus, so do you. Most of your lullabies are sea shanties and you take your first steps along the banks of Tyr’s Tear. You cannot remember a time when you didn’t know how to swim. Your mother, for some hidden reason, knows how to fight and she is the one to teach you how to use a sword. ‘A cutlass’ she clarifies the first time you call it something else. ‘There’s language used correctly and then there’s language used beautifully.’

Meanwhile, your father is hopelessly bound to the land. More specifically, he is hopelessly bound to his books. He is an academic that is fortunate enough to be born into nobility. His father lived a long life as a trusted advisor to Octavius Valmont. A former educator at the Bard’s College, the birth of you brings about a new chapter to your father's life causing him to leave the college and spend most of his days in Tyrholm writing, reading, and discussing matters of political science. How he wooed your mother you’ll never know, but because of them you’ll never doubt what love is. If you had to guess though, your father enchanted your mother because no one used language more beautifully than him.

Your father has a secret though. When you are four years old, you learn that you’ve inherited it. The two of you are Inferi magi.

The fastest way to someone’s heart is through conspiracy and you and your father are bound by this secret you share. He’s spent his whole life hiding this, and he teaches you to do the same. You hate being anything other than outspoken, anything other than untruthful about what you think and who you are, and the only anchor is you know how much he hates it too. The two of you hold tight to something the world hates and work to make it a gift more than a curse. This is what connects you to your father. Inferi magic is destructive, but your father shows you that sometimes that is the way of life. He tells you about the pine-trees that depend on heat to crack open their seeds. He talks about entire forests that are born from the ash of forest fires. Sometimes, in order to make something stronger, you must burn it down; sometimes, in order to make something last forever, you must destroy it. You know the story of the wolves and the snakes, he’s told you it over and over again to lull you to sleep, but he tells you it again now. Political structures -  you are five so you say ‘what’ and he replaces the phrase ‘political structures’ with the words ‘Kingdoms, like Tyrholm’ and you say ‘oh, okay’ - Kingdoms, like Tyrholm, get better, continue surviving, by being torn down and rebuilt. Just like the wolves and the snakes.

‘Let me teach you little one, how revolutions begin.’ He tells you instead of bedtime stories.

Your father believes in revolution, in a way that is before his time. He wants to dismantle the monarchy and in its stead assemble a republic government. His political ideology stands stark amongst the beliefs of this world and you are young enough to be enraptured by the optimism of it. Your mother, far better at playing society’s game than your father is, tells him not to speak so loudly about such things when you are not in your home.

And it is a nice home. For all of your father’s gripes against King, it seems the current system has given you and your family everything you need. You have all the flourishes that come with wealth: a respectable reputation, a lavish upbringing, a thorough education. You’re a lady and the dresses and the etiquette and the social gatherings don’t let you forget it. In many ways you are like your father, you debate and you discuss and think deeply on things with little regard to how that reflects on your station in life. Your mother is the opposite. She teaches you how to lie and survive within the status quo.

You are ten when your father begins writing pamphlets - ‘purely educational,’ he defends - about what a republic is. At least once a month he meets with a handful of like-minded people who are interested in discussing such things and their conversations often go late into the night. They sit tucked away and hidden in the back of a low-lit tavern - and you know these things because you are wily enough to try and follow him one night. Your father catches you and drags you back to the manor by the scruff of your neck like some stray kitten. Your mother is furious - at the both of you.

You are sent to bed without any supper and your father sleeps in the library that evening.

So goes your life. You become your mother’s apprentice as the Keeper of Coins and she makes it worth your while by teaching you to spar in the evenings. Your footwork improves more quickly than your mathematics, but you’re not too bad at either. Your life as a lady blooms. More lessons, more competitions. You find love, a first love, so you don’t understand that there can be different kinds, and even sour kinds. All you’ve ever witnessed is the warmth between your parents, even in their bickering, and so the most naive parts of you believe this to be true of all love.

This routine is almost enough to make you forget about the plights of the kingdom and that you live in a gilded cage.

Your father gets bolder in his commitment to a radical political movement. You’re 15 when you start staying up late to help him proofread the pamphlet he writes. The two of you start taking camping trips to the Volkun Forest, so that you may discuss such things freely amongst the trees. Out here, if the wrong word slips out or if a little bit of magic pushes through your fingertips, there is no one to pass judgment. Out here is freedom.

You take these trips and your father returns, only to lock himself in his study for the next three days. Sometimes you’ll press your ear to the door when the house is quiet and hear nothing more than the quick and furious scratching of a quill across parchment. Not too long after there will be fresh sheets of radical ideas floating through the city.

When you are 17, the fabric of your world is ripped apart at the seams. Your father’s ideas are labeled as treason and the King’s Guard ambushes you in the middle of the Volkun forest. They run your father through with a broadsword more times than necessary to kill him and he is left in a bloody, bloody heap. You manage to survive by playing dead. It’s a decision you replay over and over and over again. The anger over it lingers for years. You should have leaped to your feet and fought, and instead - you chose a coward’s route.

You dig a grave for your father using only your hands and still, somehow, you manage the return home.

The rage in your mother’s eyes when you tell her complements your deep sorrow. She dries your tears and you dry hers, but both of you agree that no one else will see you cry. Your magic burns in you that night, so hot and unknown that you throw yourself into the river to temper the flames that lick your blood. Your lack of training has never been more apparent than now. At such times you’d ask your father what was happening to you and even if he told you that he didn’t know, the shared loneliness made it bearable. He is not here now, and you must weather this alone.

Your mother doesn’t speak for 13 days. At first you think she will never speak again, you have heard of those that die of heartbreak, but you soon realize that she is scheming.

“I know what we will do.” She says on the thirteenth day and you nearly drop the sword you are polishing.

A plan forms. Together, the two of you plot. How do you kill the men that struck down your father? How do you kill a king? It’s decided that you will join the guard. You abandon your engagement. Like that, you abandon your life. Your reputation is ruined and your mother barely scrapes by.

You move out of the familial manor, out of safety for your mother. She’ll still write you letters and you will still visit to sleep in your childhood bedroom, but the two of you agree to keep these instances to once in a blue moon. You move to Lowtown. You know that one of the men you want six-feet under is the Captain of the Guard.

When you first ask to enlist, they think you are pranking them, trying to pull the wool over their eyes because some noble has dared you. When you don’t leave though, that’s when they grow from disbelief to skepticism. ‘Why?’ You are asked. ‘Because I dream of a better world.’ Of course you’re met with laughter. You, however, refuse to lie. You stay steadfast in your plot. You wait for their amusement to die down before challenging the man nearest to you to a spar - if he wins you’ll leave and never bother them again.

That evening, you bring your cutlass and you win your way into the Guard.

After all is said and done you hear a stray spectating guard say to another, ‘She fights like a pirate.’

No one can stop you once you are a woman decided. You spend the next few years putting your head down and doing the work. You become the youngest lieutenant the Guard has ever seen. You are not intimidated by this, you swallow it easily with the knowledge that you are here with a higher calling. The truth has a tendency to make things harsh and unwelcoming, and yet it is the very thing that makes the men here listen to you. They look at you and see someone unwavering in their honesty, merciless with their virtue. It earns you a level of respect that most lieutenants spend their whole lives scrounging for. The world may not be fair, but you intend to make it so. That is seen and that is respected. They listen to you, but more importantly, they trust you. You make it clear that you’ll take an arrow for any of them, parry whatever blow comes their way. When a man is struck down in the field, you’re one of the first to volunteer to tell their family. They start letting you do this by default, your stoic demeanor and steady nature prove to be the exact temperament needed to weather a storm of their family’s sadness. Every time you do this - every time you confront a freshly widowed bride, a newly motherless son - you promise to take care of them. You won’t let their death be in vain, you say. You find yourself caring for all these families as much as you care for your mother. In this way your family grows, and it no longer feels like you are last of your name.

All of this goes without mention of the elephant in the room. Your job puts you in painful proximity to the Fool, one of the men that killed your father. However, these days it seems you’re on the same team in more ways than one. Together you lead the Guard, together you declare you’ll fight in the same revolution. You seek forgiveness within yourself, but your heart finds it hard to go back on a judgment once it has passed. You know that striking him down would be a poor move on your part tactically, that it would scatter the men, that it would lead to a different kind of revolt. You don’t want to tear your new household in two just. So you take his name to that list of names you intend to make your way through and shift it to the bottom. That night you begin a new list, one of additional grievances to call upon that specifically the Fool is responsible for and you decide that you will savor and remember these grievances when the day of his death finally comes.

You’re intense, you ache for revenge, you age for revolution. Those that would think less of you for the latter are nowhere nearby; they’re far off in some ivory tower. Those that surround you are bolstered by it. Each breath is spent on the growing rebellion, each action is dedicated to felling an empire and an unjust king. You are a flame that keeps your friends warm, you are a fire that chases your foes into action.

Living amongst the Guard has taken you out of luxury, out of a life of nobility, and placed you in the thick of a growing revolt. Each citizen of Lowtown comes with their own history, of a life earned through hard work and skill, and you realize that a monarchy is bullshit. Power to the people, you think.

It’s difficult to remember the girl who existed before your father died. But try and you remember. You’ve still got your family crest, it reminds you of the sea. A mutt wanders onto your path one patrol of the Volkun forest and you swear it looks part wolf. You take him in. Two weeks from now he’ll chase after a snake on your hunting trail and even you will say “Oh come on” at the heavy handed metaphor life has thrown your way. In these ways, the world continues to remind you of who you are.

And then, only on quiet lonely nights do you let your mind wander, galloping through the memories back to the day your father was butchered before you. You clawed your way back to the city, clawed your way back to your mother. You’ve defied death once and so hell nor heaven scares you anymore. Buried deep within all your noble intentions is an undeniable truth: you have your revolution, you have your decided aims for a republic, but you would put it all on the line, just to get back at the men who killed your father. You pray to the wolves and snakes you will become a better person.

You are not a revolter, you tell yourself, you are a revolutionary.  

PLOT IDEAS:

Marceline doesn’t believe in kings. As the revolution grows, there are plenty that want to replace this king with a new one. Who will take Septimus’ place? The Emperor, the Chariot, the World? None. Marceline thinks that’s just trading out one cage for another. As mentioned: down with the monarchy, up with a republic! Marceline believes in the ideals of a republic, the same ideals her father believed in, and she wants to work to stoke that fire in the same way he did. It might be a moment before she returns to distributing pamphlets or standing on soapboxes, but natural rights and equality for all citizens of Tyrholm is something that she is determined to fight for. She will try to convince every revolter she comes by of her radical ideas and even when they turn her away, she’ll find a way to stay. She’s always been a woman bad at understanding the word no. I’d like her to try and convince as many people as she can and I think this has the potential to be an interesting plot. Not everyone is going to agree with her and I’m sure it’ll cook up a new batch of allies and enemies. Her father wrote and distributed pamphlets against the king and in favor of a whole new political structure, and Marceline would like to get this radical political movement going again through these handouts. However, Marceline is not the same wordsmith her father was. She’ll do it, if she has to, but I would love for her to find that person to help her write a new round of Enlightenment principles with. In general though, Marceline will be at the forefront for a push for a republic. It’s an ideology that she’s willing to die for. In the long run maybe this even causes a schism in the revolution between those that want another king and those who want something else entirely. TEMPERANCE: Marceline breaks off the engagement, returns the ring that is given to her, leaves without a word. Marceline knows she loves the revolution more, but still her love for Temperance lingers. From where she’s standing, it seems as if her former fiancee has had no trouble moving on and so Marceline is doing her best to drown herself in work and other people. If she could pick one person to convert in favor of her ideal vision for the future, it would be her. But the more Marceline stays with the Guard, the more she sees that Temperance is blind to her own privilege. She wishes Temperance could see things her way. If Marceline ever had to pick between the revolution or Temperance, she would do her best to try and save both. Marceline has left the life of nobility behind, but I would love to see the life of nobility try and drag her back in through her undeniable love for this for this woman. THE FOOL: Until a new republic is built, Marceline still has to live in this monarchy, and there is plenty to do here. There’s her own vendetta, for Marceline will do anything that’s necessary to track down and kill the men that killed her father. Fool kills Dad. Hermit kills Fool. That easy, right? Wrong! Things are already messy as is because both she and the Fool are revolters and thus technically on the same side in more ways than one. Because of this, Marceline needs to find cleverer ways to retaliate against him. Their relationship is a complex one as she is always quick to undermine him, but still sees him as her co-partner in leading the Guard. For a girl who believes in keeping a judgement once it is passed, I want to push the boundaries of her decided vendetta. As she lies in wait, I imagine Marceline trying to be close to anyone that the Fool knows. I’d also love her feelings for him to grow and for her to have to wake up every morning and have to conscientiously decide that she wants to kill this man. I want the Fool to make her change as a person so that by the end of this she’s either consumed by hate for this man or consumed by love - no in between.   THE MOON: The Moon is possibly the only friend Marceline has outside of the Guard.  Every time Marceline ventures Volkun forest, she brings back something new for her botanist friend. There’s a comfort she feels with this one - one she hasn’t felt since her father was around. Something tells her it’s magic, but Marceline knows the dangers of asking about such things. Still, she will do everything to maintain a friendship with the Moon, as she is one of the few people around whom she is utterly at peace. I see them growing close because of the revolution, and I can see them growing even closer if they ever choose to tell each other about their magic. Ever since the death of her father, Marceline has completely turned away from the magical side of herself, but that does not mean the magical side of her does not exist. I see her magic being a grab bag of abilities that she has absolutely no control over. (And per admin discussion, I have some ideas on this.) She feels utterly lost, but Marceline does everything she can to avoid letting anyone know about this side of her. (She always tells the truth, except in this instance.) There’s probably less than a handful of people that know and while I would like this number to slowly grow, I imagine the Moon would be the first. Ultimately, I would like Marceline to come to terms with her magic and see how it influences her thoughts on the war and the revolution. Eventually she’s going to come to understand that her magic might be able to help her take down the king. She might even like to try and travel to Hypatos sometime to seek out mentors. Maybe this is somewhere she and the Moon journey together. Marceline is willing to train up anyone who wants to learn how to fight, be they part of the Guard or not. If you’re part of the revolution, or even if you take no particular side, she thinks you have a right to be able to defend yourself. Just expect to eventually get an earful about some radical political ideologies. Marceline hates pirates and bandits. She cannot stand either of them, especially when they terrorize her Guard. She wants to make a statement to show that the Guard won’t turn a blind eye to being messed with. She’s willing to offer both groups a shot at joining them against the king, but if they refuse, she won’t hesitate to go against them for the men they’ve harmed. In the meantime, any pirates or bandits should steer clear of her as she won’t go easy on them. Marceline sees every single guard as a member of her family and when a guard dies she makes a commitment to look out for that guard’s family. I don’t want this to be easy for her. I’d love to try and throw her up against her own moral compass while trying to stay true to a promise she’s made.

CHARACTER DEATH: Totally cool with you killing my character. My character’s dog however, needs to live forever.

WRITING SAMPLE

There are those that shared his beliefs that come knocking at their door to share their condolences. Marceline and her mother had vowed not to show their tears to the public so Marceline’s mother greets the guests with solemn eyes and a quiet nod of thanks. Marceline doesn’t even make it out of her room. Her father’s death is still too fresh, too heavy on her heart and it’s difficult to be confronted with the fact that someone the world keeps turning.

Marceline is coming up on three days without sleep. Her throat is sore, her eyes are raw, and they are both nothing compared to the dead thing in her chest. She tries to sleep, but etched onto the underside of her eyelids are the faces of four men that she will never forget. She knows grief is nonlinear, but she wishes it would leave for a while and return later when she feels a little stronger. Finally, utterly exhausted, her body gives up on her and she falls into a restless sleep.

There’s a full tangerine moon in the sky and Marceline wakes up in delirious pain. She finds herself on the floor, covers still tangled around her legs. She’s rolled off her own bed. She is still herself though - and that’s what matters. She can see through the haze of pain her hands, her fingernails, the bits of dirt underneath them.

What is this pain? It’s her magic, she thinks, or maybe it’s her grief. She’s buried this part of herself so often, that she forgets about it until it makes itself known. It pulses in her blood with such unpleasantness that she cries out for her father before remembering he is too far to hear her.

She doesn’t want to do any of this without him.

The pain licks up and down her spine. She can feel this Inferi magic coursing through her blood, taking her immense sadness and twisting it. This is in no ways normal, but each time she’s had to face it she’s always had her father.

Marceline kicks with trembling legs at the covers still wrapped like mummy bandages around her body. She crawls to the chair at her desk and grips at the chair leg with her sweaty hand. The wood begins to glow red - at least she thinks it does -  and she knows she is going to set it on fire if she doesn’t move it. She grabs higher, pulls herself up, grabs the curved back of the chair until her feet are flat against the wood floor.

Marceline takes a shaky step, then another, and then she stumbles with the inertia of pain out the door of her bedroom. She nearly collapses as soon as she reaches the bannister of the stair. Her torso hits the wood and the impact blows another wave of fire all through her, knees crippling - she catches herself before she hits the ground but the world spins around her.

She is going to die. She is going to die. She is going to die.

And whatever it is inside her is going to kill and destroy everything in this house. How did she ever think she was going to survive in this word three days without her father?

She must though, she must.

Another wave of pain throws her to the floor. She curls into herself; her sadness magnifies and triples tenfold. Like a wave it washes over her, and then recedes. Here, she will die here -

And then Marceline gets up.

Only this time, it is her magic rising from inside her. It surges through her, hardening the muscles in her legs. She slaps a bloody hand on the counter and straightens up. She breathes hard: in and out, in and out, in and out. As her eyes close, she hears - she swears - the steady beating of wings, as it reminds her swelling heart to keep beating.

She crunches her way out of the hallway, down the stairs, and then out into the garden where the moon hangs low. It is watching her, she feels it. Its light pours over her bloody form with every step she takes. At first she steps slowly, she eases her toes into the cool grass. But then faster, steps more steady, and then even faster, until she is running away from her family’s manor, towards the river, as though she could flee from her sadness.

But she is fleeing towards the moon.

Her magic gives her strength and gives her pain. It roars in her chest now, harmonizing with her grief. She hates it, she hates it so much, hates how it makes her hide, hates how it’s always been a mirror of her emotions.

She remembers her father and how he could look at a burning thing and see the growth that will come after. She’s never going to see him again and there are precisely four men to blame. She can’t stop her tears as she splashes to the banks of the river and falls to her knees inside the reflection of the full moon, which dances on the surface of the water. Her hands press into the sand. She fists the rocks and shells. She is probably going to die. And she should fight it still, but her magic is the only part of her father that is still left.

She doesn’t want him to be gone, and it’s the last thought she has before it feels like she goes up in flames.

Marceline falls forward into the river.

The next morning, she wakes to the sound of the water, as it kisses at her toes and her ankles. Slowly, Marceline blinks her eyes open to the sunlight appearing over the river. The pain is over. Her body felt peaceful and brand new. Three days of mourning and now - rebirth. She feels like she’s just shed her own exoskeleton. She’s done it all on her own too.

A raven picks at the hem of her blouse and forces her to sit up to shoo it away. Tyrholm is still here. She is still here. She breathes in like she needs to remember what it is like to have her lungs expand. Both her magic and her grief, she thinks, are strange, strange things.

EXTRA

A few extra headcanons: While growing up Marcline’s mother would temporarily stay in Noble quarters at Castle Tyrholm. Marceline and her father lived in the Pelagius manor in Hightown. After her husband’s death, Marceline’s mother moved out of the Noble quarters and returned to the manor. Her mother is still Keeper of Coin for the king. Marceline lives in Lowtown but makes sure to visit her mother in Hightown at least once a month. She writes letters often. One does not simply become the youngest lieutenant of the Guard without being a skilled swordsman. Thanks to her noble upbringing, she’s had access to top tier mentors and tutors. What Marceline lacks in size and sheer strength, she makes up in swiftness and cunning. In fact, Marceline’s noble upbringing has left her with a handful of random skills that she is never sure she will use again. She’ll spend most of her evenings these days in the Barracks playing cards or drinking with the Guard. They are her pack. Marceline is slowly starting to pick up where her father left off with his pamphlets. Marceline has a mutt that is probably part wolf... no one really knows. But his name is Little Wolf. He’s her hunting dog (and possibly her best friend.) He follows her around plenty while she is on patrol. He loves members of the Guard and hates the aristocracy.

A few stray musings: Look, I’m not saying she wants to inspire the French Revolution of this world. But... yes okay that’s exactly what she wants. Big Enjorlas from ‘Les Mis’ vibes. Mixed in with some Hamilton. There’s a touch of Isabella from Shakespeare’s ‘Measure for Measure’ thrown in there as well. “So men say that I’m intense or I’m insane.” Most likely to yell “Wake Up Sheeple!!” in the middle of a crowded ball. Bisexual AF.  

Congratulations, CAS! You’ve been accepted for the role of TYBALT. Admin Minnie: I HAVE WAITED A MILLION YEARS FOR EXACTLY YOU, CAS. Please do not think that I am, for one second, exaggerating. You expect every Tiberius application to have a force of will and dynamic quality behind it, but you gave us nuance. You gave us depth. Reading your application left me feeling like I was walking on a tightrope, in the very best way possible, with danger and urgency and FUN. I have no doubt that you will keep all of us on the edge of our seats with our heart in our throats with your Tiberius! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias |  Cas.

Age |  Twenty-two.

Preferred Pronouns |  She/her.

Activity Level |  I’m finishing up my MLit, but I tend to work in the day and then write in the night, so I don’t think it would affect my activity much. Lockdown means that I’m pretty much always around, always have access to a laptop and, therefore, will probably alwaysbe writing. To give it a numerical scale, I’d give it 8/9.

Timezone | GMT.

How did you find the rp? |  Honestly? I’ve been following this roleplay since it opened, more or less. I kinda forgot about it for a while, but I was writing a paper on Shakespeare and that reminded me I should take another look.

IN CHARACTER

Character |  Tybalt, Tiberius Capulet.

What drew you to this character? |  While I was reading the open bios, I was pulled between a few different characters. I actually started writing up an application for Hero, but honestly, when I read Tiberius’ bio? I was totally enthralled. I’m used to playing sharp, wily, morally ambiguous characters, so Tiberius is new ground for me. He’s a gun with a mouth, a bomb always teetering on the edge of explosion, he’s a blade, he’s a weapon, and he builds a shrine to himself. He is unapologetically the villain of his own story, and nobody can take that away from him. He’s the sort of person who makes you utter his name out in full: Tiberius Capulet. He likes the sound of that. It’s harsh and guttural; it sticks to the roof of your mouth and chokes you. You don’t forget a name like that — and anyway, he doesn’t let you. Tiberius is a god made flesh, and he makes sure you know it. But he’s hungry, ravenous, really, and nothing sates that appetite. There’s a quote by Ruth Awad which I think puts what I’m trying to say quite nicely: ‘God who ate everything, did this world feed you?’ What really draws me towards Tiberius is the fact that he seems to vacillate between two extremes: he is at once cavernous and filled with every damask feeling in the world. He feels nothing and he feels everything; he looks at the world with two brutal, voracious eyes and decides he’ll devour it someday, he’ll eat it raw. That much is owed to him. If the god Ares lives among them, he lives in Tiberius: he is an ancient storm bated beneath skin. If he is given a choice between love and fear, he chooses fear, every time, until he burns so bright the world ends.

And yet, that’s only a slice of him. After all, how do you burn without a fire? Tiberius casts himself as the antagonist, but layered beneath that surface are chapters upon chapters of unfinished stories, untold tales, a whole mythology just sitting there, boiling under the skin. He’s brutal, but he’s not without feeling; quite the opposite, he feels things more deeply than most. Sure, he’s not a man of many attachments, but those he has, he holds onto for dear life. He is at once the beast and the man; the villain and the anti-villain. I think what drew me to Tiberius more than anything is the opportunity to unfurl all this rage, all this villainy in him, and to really determine where it comes from. He covets the crown of Verona, but he is first and last a Capulet — that is something that both propels him into greatness and holds him back. He will set this city ablaze and simultaneously shield his cousins from the fires of his own making. They’re a name, they’re a dynasty, and, sure, he wants the crown, but he’ll stop at nothing to preserve that. He loves them, in his own savage, infernal way. Their strategies will never be the same—Juliet is the Heart, Rafaella the Brain, Tiberius the Brute Force—but they forge a formidable trifecta. So, I suppose what makes Tiberius most interesting as a character is this oscillation between morality and amorality: he wants to feel the weight of the world in his hands and have them bruised by it, but what is he willing to sacrifice to achieve that? He is a mere prince, not a king, and while he knows that power is wielded by those who carve it out in stone and not those who are simply born into it, at night he dreams of sitting on a throne, ruling high above them all.

Anyway, sorry, I rambled — but! Essentially, I’m drawn to Tiberius not merely because he’s a wildfire as much as he is flesh and blood, but also because he has this impossible task of navigating and determining his own loyalties. He has one goal, plain and simple: Tiberius wants to rule. He has felt a strange magnetic pull to the throne ever since he was born; it has been calling his name for as long as he can remember. And he doesn’t care for much, but for those who make the cut, he’ll do anything, stop at nothing; he would pulverise this city into dust if it meant the Capulets emerged from the rubble on top. If feeling deeply makes you a monster, well, then, is the man a monster?

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

‘I, too, wanted to set Rome on fire, but never became an emperor due to unforeseen circumstances.’  Anonymous.

He’s a non-playable character, I know, but I’d love to explore Tiberius’ relationship with Cosimo a little more. I can’t help but feel that from the moment the boy know what power was, felt the weight of it in his bones, Tiberius has made himself accessible, always, to the man he hopes to replace. He was raised in the boss’ household, at all times hemmed in with wealth and warfare but always tempered by that culture of respect Cosimo has cultivated, and all he has ever known is bloodshed, scheming and the ruthless folklore of the Montague/Capulet feud. It’s not really a war anymore. More a lifestyle; simply how things are. Every single thing he knows about the world has been callously seized from the pages of history this mighty house has rewritten, and everything he can see, everything the dark touches, has Cosimo at the helm of it all. For two years, it was him, only him, before Juliana came along. That’s something I’d like to explore down the line: the scorn of his parentage which he finds so unfortunate, coalesced with his rearing, those years gleaning from Cosimo’s words lessons of war and honour, and the way in which Juliana’s birth cut through that blissful acrimony. Like a fine blade cutting through cardinal silk. What were those first two years like for him? Tiberius wears irascible warfare like a second skin — Juliana does not. And that is what makes one a worthy General, no? I’d love to delve a little deeper into the upbringing of the two—Cosimo’s subtly different dealings with them both—and how they have each flourished as a consequence of that. After all, it all goes hand-in-hand with his status as a Captain. Juliana the Heiress, Rafaella the Advisor — but him? Tiberius is a Capulet, but he is severed from the same power, prestige and influence afforded to his cousins; he is relegated and forced to run with the wolves, avid and hungry, with no history or name to bolster them. He may not be Cosimo’s son, but he is Capulet by name and by nature — ought he not dwell amongst other Capulets? It’s an insult, plain and true, and I’d love to explore how that affects Tiberius’ relationship with the other Captains. He views himself above them, their superior in all but status; but how do they view him?

‘Hades is relentless and untamed; so mortals hate him most of all the gods.’  Homer, from The Iliad.

Every action is purposeful, every swing of the blade with a goal in mind. He is no haphazard architect of chaos; the chaos is marked, always deliberate. More than anything, I would love to see Tiberius achieve everything he’s ever dreamed of. To become, once and for all, emperor; the General. But for that to happen, he has to cast Juliana and Rafaella aside. Juliana should be easy enough, he thinks, she has too much heart and too much soul to resort to artillery, blood, firepower—complacency is cowardice—but Rafaella is a more arduous obstacle. She smart enough for the crown, Tiberius is certain of it. Rafaella is not a Capulet by blood, but she is a Capulet by nature, and her wit is a force to be reckoned with. She is Tiberius’ real competition, primogeniture be damned, and, one day, he will have to fight her for the crown. The Capulets are a powerful little triad, to be sure: what with the empathy of Juliana, the sharp gumption of Rafaella, and the brute strength of Tiberius, they are unstoppable, impregnable. They yield to no-one, and that is the beauty of it all. But Tiberius is a dangerous sort of beast; he is blinded by rage and, for as long as he can remember, he has seen all things in red. I’d love to see a plot where Tiberius is at last granted everything he’s ever wanted—the heiress is cast aside as well as the polymath—and Verona suffers for it. After all, history has had its say on bloody men: Herod, Caligula, where are they now? They are dead. Their hands are marred with executions, with the blood of innocents. War is easy, isn’t it? But ruling is harder. Tiberius would not be a good ruler. Not now, not without identifying the seat of all that anger in him; not without Juliana and Rafaella at his side. There’s too much rage in him, too much cruelty. He lacks the heart and wit of his cousins. He is a man of war, a harbinger of violence and blood; what man like that knows the first thing about politics? He was born savage and he will die savage, plain and simple. Tiberius’ rule is not one, I don’t think, that Verona would take to easily. It’s this strange cesspool of moral degradation which thrives in duplicity: Verona is much too familiar with that thin, gauzy film it casts over people’s eyes. And when the body politic suffers, people tend to do something about it.

+  Equally, he might come to terms with the idea that Juliana, Rafaella and Tiberius need each other to rule. Not merely does Tiberius need them, but they need him. He’s prepared to get his hands dirty — in fact, he revels in it. As I mentioned, there is something in each of them which is necessary for ruling. Tiberius may groan at the softness of Juliana’s heart and he might resent the wit which permits Rafaella to rule over him, but he needs them both. If the Capulets want to rule, they must learn to do it together. They are a coin with three faces, and together, they engender a divinity for the modern age.

‘I’ve exhausted all my cruelty. I’ve arrived at myself again.’  Jenny George, from The Dream of Reason.

For most people, cruelty is a fickle thing: it comes and goes when necessity demands of it. Tiberius is not like most people. Through his eyes, the world crumbles to dust, and he stands, menacing and cruel, high above the wreckage. He has always expected that of himself and, as a result, so have those around him. He’s no Machiavelli, but the harshness of his heart strikes fear into his soldiers, his enemies, his underlings. But what happens when that brutality is exhausted? What happens when you take and take and take from that pot of callousness, of inhumanity, and the next time you reach your hand down into it, it comes up empty? A body can only contain so much: it is only a vessel. I would love to see Tiberius come to the end of his thread, to exhaust all the cruelty in him, and for the first time be forced to confront who he really is beneath all that anger. Identify where it all comes from. There’s a line in Tiberius’ bio I love: ‘He would never be satisfied—not until he drew his last breath, and probably not even then.’ He is relentless, utterly relentless, but every man has a breaking point. Nothing is enough for him, nothing sates him, and that is enough to break him. Tiberius is always being pulled between family pride and power; the Capulet name and the Capulet crown. He has always been decisive but, here, he falters. It bends him out of shape. I want to see him question absolutely everything he has ever known: his ambition, his hubris, his selfhood. Who is he, beyond the anger? Beyond the rage? There’s a quote from Antony and Cleopatra just before Antony’s death which I love: ‘Here I am Antony, / Yet I cannot hold this visible shape.’ I want to see that happen to Tiberius. I want to see him question absolutely everything he knows himself, everything he thinks he wants, and completely re-evaluate it. Maybe it makes him vulnerable — or maybe it makes him weak.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? |  Oh, for sure.

IN DEPTH

In-Character Para Sample: (Full disclaimer, this had a whole story but I ran out of time, so I had to end it randomly! Whoops.)

The man is a gun with a mouth. He is silent until the trigger is pulled, and then he revels in the onslaught.

He smooths his fingers over the dark wood of the pew, splicing them between the ridges as if they were born to them. But that’s blasphemy, no? He’s an unholy, godless thing, and as leather touches to stone, Tiberius swears that his feet are warmed by the flames beneath them. He has always found there to be something quite provoking about the Cathedral of Verona: the ostensible aspect of it, anyway, the guise it projects beyond itself. He watches the way that the crucified martyr glowers down at him from the cross, made definite by golds and rubies and gaudy display. As if he owes him something. Tiberius exhales, inaudible, and leans backwards. A tiger ensconced in wait. He rolls up his sleeve as if he’s wearing a watch. There’s no watch. But he knows Cassian is late.

He catches the words of the believers, pilgrims circling the effigy at the alter, caught up in an aerial whisper: I’ve never found a language to talk about the things that haunt me most, one of them purrs at the idol. He scoffs at that.

The Cathedral is just a history written over another history, Cosimo tells him once. History is always being written—written and unwritten—so, really, history is not history but hearsay, rumour, accepted gospel. Veronans have a short memory, don’t they? They simply accept the image before them without question, without hesitation: they look, but they do not see. They’ve always been like that, he thinks. Why? Why pant after history, he thinks, when we’re rewriting it every day, running rogues through with their own fucking swords and putting words to paper with their blood? But it is no use to justify yourself; no use in explaining. It is weak to be anecdotal. He remembers his Sunday mornings here, dressed up in the right garb, Juliana tugging at his sleeves. Devouts scurry each and every day to grovel at the feet of their God, as if the idol walks among them. He’s a believer, sure, but a profane one. What good Christian boy marches reverently from Sunday morning service straight into the footways of destruction and annihilation, slinging his cleaver over his shoulder? Him, apparently.

Gods walk among them, alright. New, shiny, pestilent gods, with bullets for mouths and their hearts in bronze fetters. God exists, but there are a thousand more to join him, and they’re all made in his image. They’re new stories, new divinities forged out of his own flesh and blood. History is so distracted by the endurances of the past, the days of beggary and hunger. But the Capulets build. Their power coasts along the half-light, savage moments seen in fragments. Tiberius works in the dark, in half-seen expressions and deeds. Light swathes itself around him only when it is too late to escape him. And then he cuts you down. The unknown is a frightening thing, people have decided, and so he opens up that gap and pours fear into it; always fear. Fear and blood, red as their crest.

Some of the rumours about him are true, some of them lies. Still, they are good stories to tell.

Tiberius is growing impatient. His soldiers know not to keep him waiting: when a forest fire burns it smoulders on, indiscriminate. He feels the air shift behind him, chilled, and he knows that Cassian has—at long fucking last—decided to grace him with his presence. He curls his neck over his shoulder, still perched on the pew as if in prayer, and watches Cassian approach him, the sloe of his eyes still and immovable. He doesn’t wait. He rises from the pew and makes towards the sacristy, the movement itself a beckoning to follow. He passes a group of worshippers and nods glassily at them — not worshippers, really, but eyes. Capulet eyes, which are always open.

Tiberius crosses the hall with his shadow lingering a few feet behind him, and when they climb the staircase he runs his fingers across the bannister’s veins of gold. He reaches the second floor and he shoulders himself through a door, slinging himself onto the leather of a sofa. He reposes himself low, all languorous, and a pulls a cigarette from his pockets, lighting it in the cup of his fingers. He does it effortlessly, with ease, like he’s done it a thousand times before — which, of course, he has. He pulls the cigarette to his mouth, inhales, exhales in smoke, resting his elbow on the arm of the sofa. ‘Well?’ he says, impatient.

Cassian is a man of words. Too fucking many words, Tiberius thinks. He prefers action. Still, he gets the job done, he supposes; there’s nothing squeamish about the man and he’s unscrupulous, damn it, and while he wouldn’t trust the man to catch him if he falls, he serves a purpose. He’s a steady little war-dog, always ready to do his bidding.

    ‘No show, apparently,’ he says, his eyes wandering. Buyers of the product who can’t pay up. Won’t, Tiberius had corrected him in their last discussion of the whole affair — won’t pay up. And there’s a price for that, isn’t there? Nobody makes a beggar out of the Capulets; nobody makes a beggar out of him, and lives to tell the tale. Fear’s a funny little thing, isn’t it? It lines one’s pockets with gold, somehow. Gives them the means to pay up, at last. Well, Tiberius is nothing if not efficient. ‘I’ll take care of it, boss.’

Tiberius says nothing. Merely inhales another puff of the cigarette, in, out, brings his elbow back down to the arm of leather and glowers. Same as fucking usual, he thinks. If it weren’t for the money, he’d simply fire his pistol, lodge the bullet squarely between the wastrel’s eyes. How’s that for efficiency? He watches the cogs turn behind Cassian’s eyes, marked, purposeful, full of intent — a thousand courses of actions slowly forging a path to escape him. But will Tiberius bite? Tonight, he decides, he’ll play nice. He flicks the cigarette carelessly into the ash tray and rises from the leather, his face still hard — but not heartless.

   ‘Bene,’ he decides upon, his expression still inflexible but apparently in the mood of charity tonight. Fine. ‘Get me a whiskey, then, won’t you? I’m parched.’

Extras: Just a Pinterest board I made for inspiration, which you can find here.I’ll direct you straight to this pin here because, well, is this Juliana talking about Tiberius? Yes. Yes it is.

Biggest Coal Getters At Christmas In One Piece

As you know from this blog, I rag on the most hated characters in One Piece. At at this merry Christmas time, I want to show you all the biggest coal getters in this series.

12.  Stelly

With being such an arrogant, self-important, entitled, and asshole brat, Sabo’s adoptive brother, Stelly, makes the first on the list on our naughty list. One has to feel sorry for the Gao kingdom for being ruled over such a spoiled king, who even thinks he can order Garp around because he’s originally from there.

11.  Wapol

 Another king on this list, but one who also is the president of his own toy company is Wapol. Like Stelly he was quite a horrible ruler when he was ruling Drum Kingdom, especially when he left the island to fend for itself when Blackbeard invaded and horded all the doctors so he could force people to pay high prices for them. Though he is currently living high now with his new kingdom gifted by the World Nobles, Santa still is going to leave a nice lump that fits his dark heart.

10. Judge

Just like with the earlier two entries, we have another asshole ruler and this one is the father of Strawhat member, Sanji. The ruler of the Germa 66, a seafaring kingdom that is notorious for conquering islands and being paid assassins, he is a social darwanist, who caused great abuse to Sanji throughout his childhood because he turned out normal. The only reason why he wanted Sanji back into his life was to cement an alliance with Big Mom by offering him as a groom for her daughter, Pudding, which turned out to be a trap because the Yonko planned to kill him and the other Vinsmokes off to get their technology. And at the wedding when the Big Mom Pirates’ true colors are showed, all that previous super macho bravado is melted away to reveal a sniveling coward who cries when someone puts him into the situation that he put others under. And for that the Germa clones will shoveling a lot of coal for a while.

9. Spandam

This guy is the poster child on why we should have anti-neoptism laws. A snively cowardly shit Spandam when he was head of the CP9 tortured Robin all the while she was under his captivity, while arrogantly believing his CP agents were untouchable. He also has little regard for human life when he accidentally triggered the buster call and didn’t care that his subordinates could die. He even called them needed sacrifices. He was also the reason why Tom, Iceburg and Franky’s mentor, was killed due to a frame up job he did in order to obtain the Pluton from him. It’s a bit karmic seeing him be forced to take orders from his former subordinate, Lucci, but even then the clumsy klutz should trip on his black pile of gifts he will get.

8. Hody Jones

Think Arlong, but with none of his few redeeming qualities. Although Hody can be said to be a product of his environment, he’s still a nasty racist shit, who should rot in the jail cell he was put in at the end of his starring arc. With his New Fishman Pirates, they planned on taking over the kingdom and go to Reverie where they planned to massarce everyone there. However, the worst thing he’s done is assassinate Queen Otohime, because she dared to try to aim to bring peace between humans and seafolk. If you think there can be a reason for his racism, then he would answer it himself: “nothing”. Nothing happened to him to make him hate humans personally he just grew up with the toxic belief that hating humans was justified. And for that Hody spends Christmas in a jail cell, while sharing it with the number of coals that can keep him and the other withered New Fishman Pirates company.

7. Mother Carmel

To the world (and to this day, Big Mom), Mother Carmel was a saintly figure who fostered peace between humans and giants plus opened up an orphanage for children of all races. However, underneath that facade lied a wicked slaver, who pretended to be a grandmotherly figure in order to sell children to the highest dollar. Her famed action of stopping the Elbaf crew from being executed was a staged event in order to gain the trust of the giants. Her most notable so-called prized asset was Charlotte Linlin (who would later become Big Mom), who to this day doesn’t know her foster mother never truly loved her and saw her as merchandise to be sold. Even though she’s a deceased character, she certainly deserves to have her stockings filled to the brim with stone, cold coal.

6. Blackbeard

Although he’s more of a love to hate example, we all know that Blackbeard deserves to be on this list. For one thing, if you want to know why the post-timeskip is chaotic as it is it’s thanks to this guy. He for years pretended to be a loyal member of Whitebeard’s crew and acted like one of the family knit setting. However, it’s all an at to get at the Yami Yami No Mi/Dark Dark Fruit. He killed one of his own brothers/crewmates, then went off to form his own crew where he fought Ace and got him handed over to the Marines, so that he could become a Warlord and get into Impel Down. There during the breakout he recruited level six members to his crew, then used them to kill his former captain and father figure Blackbeard. And postimeskip he has been shown to now be hunting down devil fruit users for his fellow crew. There is a reason why people say he’s the anti-Luffy and what a real non-romanticized pirate is like. So, I have a feeling Santa will be stopping by on Hive Island with some hefty packages that could fit his namesake.

5. Ceasar Clown

Although he’s shown as a butt monkey after his first appearance, the record of his misdeeds cannot be forgotten. On his island he kept children captive after a mole in the marines lied to their parents about them dying at sea, which he then proceeded to experiment on them with drugged candy which made them grow giant sized and shorten their live spans. All the while pretending he was actually curing them when he couldn’t give a shit. He also is notorious for making chemical weapons of mass destruction which is used by amoral individuals like the Beast Pirates. In other words, Santa strap this asshole to a big lump of coal and drown him.

4. Doflamingo

One of the most popular villians in the series is Donquixote Doflamingo, former Warlord, top broker, and King Of Dressrosa. Man, you could have a long list of all the shit he’s pulled throughout his career and life. On the outside he might look like a gaudy Elton John rip off, but on the inside bleeds one of the scariest and ruthless characters in the series. No wonder because he was born of the World Nobles, who are a sociopathic and psychotic bunch. From his take over to Dressrosa to funding Ceasar Clown’s research, he certainly can make you scared of the color pink. And that is why we have to heep this birds feathers with a black sheen.

3. Orochi

While Doffy is pretty to look at and is flamboyantly fun, Orochi just embodies “hate sink” stereotypes. He’s just made to be obvious that this guy is not going to be a good person. Spoilers ahead: I know he was influenced into becoming an asshole but he is still an asshole who sold out his country for his own benefit. Not to mention currently it was shown he was heavily implied to be the one who killed Suriyaki and lied to everyone about being named a successor with the help of that strange woman. His 20 years of terror have caused nothing but hurt to everyone under his rule as he causes a famine due to the occupying forces of the Beast Pirates. All of his because he believed he was entitled like his grandfather to be Shogun. He also wastes food, as his country is starving and feeds a whole village of hungry people failed “Smiles” so that they can quit crying about their dead loved ones. I know Santa would know of a way to get into this closed off country, so that he can deliver this shistain a coal that is as big as a mountain.

2. Kaido

Here is the man of thousand beasts and leader of the Beast pirates. Even though Blackbeard himself is no saint, he doesn’t seem to want to destroy the world like Kaido does. An unstoppable juggernaut, he sees suicide as a way to kill boredom and is often on his ass drunk. He’s ruled over Wano through Orochi for 2 decades, as he has decimated it into a famine wide place except the capitol where the rich and his toadie lives. He uses the land to function his own war effort and has caused many of the Wano people to go through great periods of grief. Like with Blackbeard, he’s an unromanticed version of what a pirate is really like. So, Kaido be prepared for Onigashima to reign coal like it’s no tomorrow.

1. World Nobles (Celestial Dragons)

By default, you know these shitty bastards would top the list. The biggest reason because of the fact that they are above the law and are allowed to do anything they like because they are so-called “gods”. They treat the general population like crap, while blatantly owning slaves when it was supposed to have been illegalized 2 centuries ago. They are also supported by a thing called heavenly tribute which country of the world government has to give continuously, lest they get kicked out and have no way of defending themselves from pirates or slave traffickers. So I can say the biggest coal getters go to these fat pigs in their towers. Better yet they should coal statues made in (dis)honor of them.

BBC’s The War Of The Worlds blog - Episode 2

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Never before have I witnessed something this god awful. I’m actually gobsmacked. I knew Peter Harness was a terrible writer, but I didn’t think even he could fuck up this badly. I was utterly dumbfounded by the end of the second episode. I couldn’t believe what I just watched. Not only does this fail as an adaptation of War Of The Worlds, it fails as a story in and of itself.

The problems with Episode 2 surface almost immediately within the first few minutes. A flash forward to a post apocalyptic Earth where we see Amy taking care of her son as humanity struggles to survive because of the red weed (which doesn’t look terribly convincing sadly, but that’s the least of this series’ problems). From there the episode continuously switches back and forth to the invasion and the aftermath throughout, which completely ruins the pacing, but it’s actually even worse than that. These flash forwards also giveaway the ending of the story. That the Martians end up losing. Harness tries to act all clever-clever with it by having British propaganda claim that the army defeated them, but the damage has already done. Thanks to this reveal, Harness has successfully managed to completely suck all tension from the story completely. The Martians no longer pose a threat because we, the audience, know they eventually lose, and we know that Amy at least survives, so at no point do we ever worry about her safety. I was absolutely flabbergasted when I saw this. I couldn’t believe any writer could be this stupid as to sabotage their own story by completely defanging their villains. As for the red weed slowly killing the planet, not only do I feel this unnecessarily complicates a perfectly simple narrative, it also opens the door for humanity to overcome their Martian oppressors when the whole point of the original story was that we only survived by the skin of our teeth. Our human ingenuity had nothing to do with it. We’ll have to wait and see what Episode 3 brings, but I’m not optimistic.

Meanwhile the invasion itself is still just as stilted and lacking in focus as it was before. Certain scenes stand out, like the black smoke enveloping London and the Tripods attacking the ferries, but because we know the Martians ultimately lose and that Amy survives, there’s absolutely zero suspense. (And yes, I know War Of The Worlds is a hundred year old story and everyone knows how it ends, but that doesn’t mean you can’t build tension). Also because of Harness wilfully reducing the Martians to incompetent fools, he has to resort to cheap shock tactics in the desperate hopes of scaring the audience, like when we see one of the Tripods kill a baby. Or how about the bit where Amy almost gets raped in the post invasion scenes? After all that performative feminist posturing last week, it’s quite galling to see such a sexist trope be used here for a cheap bit of drama. It’s fucking pathetic.

And once again the focus is in all the wrong areas. Instead of depicting the horrifying events of the Martian invasion, Harness is more preoccupied with Amy and Rupert Graves’ character (I’m sure he has a name, but I can’t be bothered to remember it at this point) squabbling every five minutes. Guys! Humanity is being destroyed by fucking aliens! Can this not wait?!

I’m assuming the whole baby killing thing was an attempt to show us the selfish nature of man or something, but George and the Artilleryman barely make the effort to actually look for the baby and the scene doesn’t go on nearly long enough to get us invested in the search and their eventual failure. The baby is practically thrown away just so Harness can have a moment where social media will go ‘OMG, they killed a baby in War Of The Worlds! How edgy!’ And the annoying thing is the book does actually have morally grey and shocking moments that Harness could have adapted if he wasn’t too busy trying to second-guess the audience and show what a dark and edgy writer he is. There are two important characters in the source material that the narrator encounters who offer different points of view on the events of the novel. There’s the priest who we see slowly lose faith in God and become more and more panicked and erratic, and there’s the Artilleryman, who represents British colonial attitudes, believing that humanity will ultimately triumph when the evidence clearly doesn’t support this. Here the Artilleryman is played by Dudley Dursley himself Harry Melling, who does a decent job with the material he has been given, but unfortunately the character he’s being forced to play is just utterly inadequate.

Continuing with his trend of writing allegories to things that have nothing to do with War Of The Worlds, Peter Harness takes the opportunity to comment on military conscription, even though conscription wasn’t introduced to the UK until 1916. So now the Artilleryman isn’t some impressionable nationalist that has willingly bought into imperial dogma, but rather he’s a scared little bunny rabbit forced to fight a war against an enemy beyond his comprehension. Worse still, George gets conscripted into the military for literally no fucking reason. He doesn’t get given a gun or anything and despite the fact that he knows more about the Martians than the soldiers do, none of them fucking listen to him when he tries to explain the heat pulse thing or why it might not be a good idea to shout at a Tripod. Then, when they think they won the battle, the captain points his gun at George and forces him to wade into the marshes and investigate. Again I must stress that George doesn’t have a gun! It’s just utterly contrived!

Oh but don’t worry. Harness finally addresses what the source material is actually about. British imperialism and colonialism. Unfortunately he does it with the subtlety and nuance of a giant steamroller driven by Marilyn Manson. Now admittedly the book isn’t very subtle about it either as the narrator comes right out with the comparisons between the British and the Martians, but the thing is the book gets away with it because it’s told from the perspective of a journalist writing about his own experiences after the fact. H.G. Wells has the licence to draw direct parallels because the narrative form he has chosen allows him to. A TV series however - a visual medium - cannot get away with this. Harness, not having the faintest idea how to address the themes of the source material organically in the visuals or the plot, resorts to sledgehammer tactics to get the point across. In the flash forwards to post apocalyptic Britain, we see Amy’s son reading a book that details how the British defeated the Martians as part of some propaganda initiative. A speech is made about how powerful and unstoppable the British Empire is, whilst intercut with soldiers having their arses handed to them by the Tripods. We see several characters maintain a stereotypical ‘stiff upper lip’ attitude as though the Martian invasion was a minor inconvenience instead of a shocking tragedy. There’s even a moment where the Minister of War is babbling on about how much more powerful the Empire can become if they can use Martian technology before succumbing to the Martian’s black smoke and we see literal bile foam from his mouth. It’s all so painfully on the nose and doesn’t offer any intelligent points or topics for discussion other than ‘empires are bad.’

And that’s not to mention all the other contrivances and annoyances in this episode. Despite Eleanor Tomlinson giving it her all, I still couldn’t give two shits about her character. Rafe Spall’s performance as George is still utterly atrocious, running around with a gormless expression on his face as though he’s just lost his wallet. Rupert Graves is utterly wasted as George’s brother and has no good material to work with. We also have a little girl join the group in a desperate bid to draw some sort of emotional reaction from the audience (it doesn’t work) and we have a sick older woman who serves no purpose whatsoever as far as I can see. In fact she really pissed me off due to the way in which she gets poisoned. It’s clearly meant to be there to establish the Martians terraforming Earth, but good God it’s stupid. How does she get poisoned? By drinking a random cup of water someone had just happened to leave lying around in the middle of a field.

I... I... Harness.... Harness, does your brain work?! How the flying fuck did you ever manage to get a career as a writer?!?!

BBC, I beg of you, please stop using our TV licence fees to fund hack screenwriters’ poorly thought out and unentertaining fanfiction!

PLEASE!

The Shopping Trip (USUK)

Summary: “Alfred, no.” “Alfred yes!”

You can also find in on AO3 and dA! Links are off to the side of the blog.

“Alfred, no.”

“Alfred yes!”

“Alfred. No.”

“But Aaaaartie!”

Arthur will not look at the eyes. Arthur will not look at the eyes. Arthur will not- He looks at the eyes. “You know my pool is for laps, not splashing around,” is all he can manage.

The eyes only get bigger as Alfred wraps his arms around the box. “That doesn’t matter! It’s still a pool!”

“Yes, but-”

“And it’s right here! Right in our path! It’s gotta be destiny or something!”

Arthur sighs through his nose and curses the layout of the store. Of course the giant pool floats are along the wall where the checkout queue runs. “Really, now.”

“Yeah!”

Unable to think of a reply for the moment, Arthur simply turns away as Alfred goes rooting around through the display. His eyes skim over various face masks, hair bands, and other bits and bobs. The line moves and he takes a step forward, but he’s unfortunately still in reach of the floats.

Alfred crows behind him, though when he turns around, the taller man is hiding the box behind his back. There’s a smirk on his face. Arthur suddenly feels like he’s aged a hundred years. “What did you find now?”

Alfred’s smile stretches wider. “I think you’ll like it.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Wanna bet?”

Arthur purses his lips. “No. Now come on, show me.”

Alfred fumbles the box into view, then presents it with as much flair as he can muster when they’re in a crowded queue. A white, blue, and pink pegacorn float looks out from the cardboard with a cutesy grin. There’s a little girl on the float’s back, her smile bright as the sun.

“Oh my god,” Arthur says quietly.

“Eh? Eh? You’re totally hooked, right?” Alfred wiggles the box around. “You totally love it and want to take it home with you, right?”

“I- I didn’t say that.” Arthur pulls his gaze away. It snaps right back within seconds.

“But you’re thinking it!” Alfred’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he dumps the pegacorn into their mesh shopping bag and picks up the burger again. “So it’s settled. You get the unicorn, and I’ve got-”

“Now hang on a moment. I didn’t agree to one of the things, let alone two.”

“But c’mooon! They’re perfect for us!”

“They also cost ten quid each. That’s nothing to scoff at.” The line creeps forward again. A few more steps and they’ll be out of range. Arthur wills the cashiers to hurry.

“I’ll pay you back for mine, then.”

“Alfred,” Arthur says, his voice low, and Alfred freezes where he’s trying to shove the burger in. “Do we really need them?”

“I really, really want-”

“But do we need them?”

Alfred’s cheeks puff out. His brows furrow as he thinks, and after a few seconds he resumes forcing the box in. “Yeah, we do.”

Arthur blinks. “How do you figure that?”

“Well.” With a final shove, the box wedges between the pegacorn box and the mesh of the bag. “It’s been hot as ba-” Alfred stops as Arthur’s elbow drives into his ribs, then follows the Brit’s nod towards the children in the queue behind them. “-ts, hot as bats for the past like, three weeks here and it gets boring just doing laps around your pool or just sitting there, so these babies will guarantee us having an awesome time in your pool instead!”

“Oh they’ll guarantee it, will they?” Arthur allows a small smirk to come to his face. “Is that a personal guarantee?”

Alfred opens his mouth, but nothing escapes it. After a moment, he shuts it again and nods.

“And what will happen if I’m not one hundred percent satisfied by the results? After all, we don’t have time for me to ‘just walk around the store with it and then we’ll maybe get it if you want to when we reach the registers’.” Arthur allows himself to be a little mean; his wallet still hasn’t recovered from the Switch. He can tell Alfred knows exactly what he’s talking about by the way those blue eyes narrow.

“If you don’t like them, we’ll return ‘em.”

“Hmm, that means another trip into town…” He tilts his head up and glances at Alfred from the corner of his eye, the epitome of coyness.

Alfred smacks his shoulder. “Stop that, you jerk. We’ll return them…and I’ll take you to Greyfriars for Afternoon Tea. All the stops, proper dress, the whole shebang.”

“How romantic.” Arthur wets his lips. “A tempting offer for two pool floats.”

“Sweetheart,” Alfred murmurs, leaning in to whisper into Arthur’s ear. “I really want those floats.” The line moves again, taking the pair out of reach. “And would you look at that, I can’t put ‘em back anymore.”

It’s Arthur’s turn to jab at him again. “Devil,” he chides, but his tone is too fond for it to be a true reprimand. He looks down at the burger float again and his brows furrow. “I thought it looked strange.”

“What looks strange?” Alfred blinks and is back to his innocent ray of sunshine self.

“The ‘burger’ looks more like a bagel, it’s got a great big bloody hole in the middle of it.”

Alfred snickers. “Well yeah, it’s gotta be ring-shaped for someone to fit inside.”

“That’s not a burger then, is it?”

“Hey, don’t knock bagel burgers. The ones they did at McDonald’s in April were good.”

“Might as well make it a donut,” Arthur mutters, huffing and looking away from the box.

“Got one of those in the California house.”

“Of course you do.”

“We got a deal though?”

Arthur peeks up at him and gives a short nod. It’s all worth it in that second when he sees the grin Alfred sends him in return.

The line moves quickly for them after that. Nothing else catches Alfred’s eye, and the people in front of them only seem to have minimal items to check out. By the time they do reach the cashier, Arthur’s almost forgotten that the purpose of the trip was to buy socks, and he stares dumbly at the packages as they’re transferred to paper bags. Alfred’s happy to make small talk with the teen serving them, so Arthur has the moment to collect himself before he has to tap his card.

Then they’re out into the god-awful sun, still scorching despite it being well past noon. “I hate this,” Arthur grumbles. He can feel his skin prickling uncomfortably at his neck and arms where his sunscreen has been sweated off.

“Poor Artie,” Alfred coos into his ear before whipping out a hat from his backpack. “You’re lucky I came prepared. Food and then home, or just home?”

“Home, please.” Arthur marches off resolutely in the direction of the bus stops. “We can have takeaway tonight.”

“Hell yeah!” Alfred waits until they’re sat on the bus stop benches to speak again. “I’m guessing we’ll test out the floats tomorrow, then?”

“Mhm.” Arthur nods and closes his eyes, allowing himself to lean into Alfred’s shoulders. They’ve been walking around town centre all day, and he’s starting to feel sluggish under the burning heat.

“You okay?” Alfred’s voice is soft, serious.

“Just tired. Let me know when the bus comes?” Arthur’s lips turn up as he feels the barest of kisses to his head.

“Sure. When we get in you can have a cold shower and I’ll pour you some of the iced tea we brewed yesterday and we can do whatever you want, okay?”

“Alright. Skyrim?”

Alfred laughs. “I figured you’d say that. We’re close to finishing the Miraak quest so we’ll do that and then screw around.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Alfred’s content to let him rest while they wait for the bus to appear, one hand carding slowly through sandy hair.

The sun is bright against the cloudless sky even at seven the next morning. Arthur takes one look at it and groans. He shuts off his alarm and curls back into Alfred’s side.

“The world must be ending,” Alfred mumbles to him.

“What?”

“You’re actually sleeping in.”

Arthur brushes a hand against Alfred���s bare side. “Shut it.”

Alfred snorts and wriggles away. “Okay, okay, please! Don’t make me wake up too much.”

“Get back to sleep then. And come back here.” Arthur holds out an arm, content when Alfred presses against him.

The Brit sends another stink eye skyward when they do get up closer to noon, but unfortunately he can’t will the rains down. He would have done it two weeks ago if he could have. Alfred makes breakfast though, which does lift his brows from their furrow.

In the end it’s past one when they’re both in their swimming trunks at the edge of Arthur’s lap pool. Alfred has slathered sunscreen over every part of Arthur’s body that the sun could possibly reach. There’s none on him; he tans beautifully instead of going part lobster if he happens look at the sun wrong.

Arthur stretches and rolls out his shoulders as he steps up to the edge. “The usual?”

“Sure.” Alfred sighs happily as his spine pops. “Loser has to blow up both floats.”

“Deal.”

“Go!” Arthur says, and in that second dives.

“You little-!” Alfred’s in the water an instant later, his muscles flexing and straining as he works to close the gap.

They’re dead even matched. While Alfred does have the muscles to power through the water and physique to keep going for an extended period of time, Arthur has speed. His body is more wiry and streamlined in the water, but he always tires after the sixteenth lap and has to rely on tight turns stay on track with Alfred.

It’s no different today. Arthur’s off like a minnow at the start, and he keeps a sizeable lead for three laps before Alfred’s power becomes apparent and they cut through the water neck and neck. He’s able to pick up a small lead again with each sharp turn he does, but Alfred’s power is unstoppable and the lead never lasts long. At the start of the seventeenth lap he feels his shoulders protesting but pushes through it, tucking his body in even tighter at each turn for that extra bit of space.

He pushes off from the final turn and strains forward. Alfred’s just behind him at the turn, and for a moment the Brit allows his eyes to sweep over the water-dappled skin. Then he faces ahead and kicks as hard as he can. His breathing is ragged whenever he can break the surface. With a final lunge he reaches out and slaps his hand against the stone rim, milliseconds ahead of Alfred.

“I win!” he gasps as he rights himself and treads water. His arms feel weakened so he can’t hold onto the edge of the pool as tightly as he’d like to, but his face is flush with victory.

Alfred laughs as well and shakes the hair out of his eyes. “Are you sure?”

Arthur splashes him and huffs. “Positive.”

“Alright, alright. Rematch tomorrow, then.”

As if they’d have it any other way. Arthur shuffles closer to him in the water and presses a wet kiss to his cheek. “Catch your breath, love. You’ll need it to blow up that abomination of yours.”

“Give me like ten minutes.”

They both swim over to the little inlet in the side of the pool and climb out the steps there. Alfred flops onto one of the two deck chairs while Arthur dries himself off and – ever so slightly – wobbles to the kitchen. He returns five minutes later on steadier legs and with a glass of iced tea in each hand.

Half an hour later, Alfred’s out of breath again, but the two floats are settled in the water. “And now for relaxation,” he says as he hops into his. The burger upends him into the pool and he’s laughing as he comes back up for air.

Arthur can only shake his head and smile. He steps more delicately onto his pegacorn and manages to keep his torso out of the water- right up until Alfred creeps up beneath him and sends him flying into the water.

“Alfred!”

The American gleefully avoids Arthur’s splashes and clambers back into his burger. They both relax after that, drifting together with their hands intertwined. Every now and then Alfred shifts to dribble water either over his stomach or Arthur’s back. Each time he does that, he also leans over to press a kiss to Arthur’s cheek or neck or hair.

It’s past five by the time they eventually head back indoors, both of their stomachs rumbling in protest. Alfred’s tan has gotten a shade darker and while Arthur’s shoulders are pinked, he hasn’t burned. They shower together and sprawl on the couch as yesterday’s takeaway reheats.

“So what did you think?” Alfred asks. His fingers are once again buried in Arthur’s hair.

“Today was nice, despite the heat,” Arthur says casually. “I hope it rains tomorrow.”

Alfred pinches his side. “You know what I mean.”

“Oi-” Arthur jolts and bumps his head to Alfred’s chin. “I’ll admit it, it was…enjoyable to float on the pegacorn on the water instead of having to focus on keeping myself afloat. I had fun.”

“Really?” Alfred smiles brightly at him.

“Of course. Did you think I’d lie?”

“Well, Greyfriars is on the line…”

Arthur shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you over a tea room.”

“You’ve done it to me for less.” Alfred snorts.

“That was ages ago,” Arthur says dismissively. “Greyfriars, or town, or just the pool, as long as I can spend time with you, I’m happy.”

Alfred’s face softens. “I love you, Art.”

“I love you too.”

Alfred takes him for Afternoon Tea the following Friday anyway, just because.

THROUGH MY EYES – BUCKY BARNES

(A/N): So, to almost celebrate my blog’s birthday, I finished this cute story with Bucky. Now, I have to work on the links because I changed the URL of the blog and everything is so confusing. Anyway, enjoy this one-shot. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Bucky talks about what happened in his life and how he became the luckiest man in the world.

Warning: mentions of death, overall nothing 

Words: 2700+

FULL MASTERLIST | BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST

THROUGH MY EYES – BUCKY BARNES

A lot of bad things had happened in my life. I practically died, well, everyone thought so, but I was rescued, unfortunately, by Hydra. I was forced to become the world’s deadliest assassin who murdered and slaughtered people on command. They brain-washed me, tortured me and put me into cryo so I could live for decades and serve those men who believed were the new Gods. I thought my life was over; the life that I was supposed to live after World War II was gone forever. However, thanks to Steve, I somehow managed to escape Hydra and start to live like a human – almost.

At first, it was hard. When I was brought to the Avengers compound, it took me, and also Stark, a lot of time to come to my normal, real self and be able to actually work with Tony – better, for Tony to be working with me. He practically hated my guts. I killed his parents, I made his life miserable and, to be honest, I didn’t blame him when he tried to kill me five times in three days.

Every time I appeared in a room, Steve had to be there to intervene if necessary. Tony would throw an empty glass at me or a plate.

There was a lot of talking, drinking and even crying, that after almost a year, we were able to tolerate and accept each other. I got used to Tony’s annoying remarks about me, he got used to my presence. I thought everything was better and my life finally turned around, but I was so damn wrong…

One day, as I was working in a conference room, dealing with papers Tony gave me, the door opened unexpectedly. Lazily, my eyes went up, already annoyed I was distracted by Steve or Tasha again. Surprisingly, neither of them were standing there, but a young woman who took my breath away. With a smile so bright and radiant, I too wanted to smile the same way she did.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “I am looking for Natasha Romanoff. She’s supposed to show me around and also sign some papers.” Her voice was like music to my ears. I kept staring at her, my mouth almost opened. She was beautiful.

A moment­-what felt like an eternity-later, I finally replied. “S-she’s in the third room to the right.”

“Thank you!” she replied cheerfully and left the room.

Maybe I was alive for almost a century, never in my life did my heart beat this fast. I thought I was getting a stroke or something. One single meeting, one-minute long conversation and I hit and filled with new feelings. A shiver went down my spine, my eyes never leaving the door where she was standing a second ago. Who was she?

The answer came later that day when Natasha introduced the woman to the whole team. Her name was Y/N and she was an angel – well, half-angel and half-witch. I didn’t understand it at first. It wasn’t making any sense, luckily, in a few days, I’ve learnt more about her and the abilities she possessed. She could do a thing called orbing which was basically transporting, like a white-blue light. She knew how to make potions and spells. I thought Wanda was a witch – oh, well, I was wrong.

It was, in fact, Wanda who told Tony and Steve about her. The brunette described her in details, informing them what her life was about and why she thought the woman was a good choice for the team. Y/N was a healer too! The men immediately wanted her with us - lucky me.

Ever since her arrival, I haven’t spoken to her for a month. I didn’t know how to approach her and start a conversation. Surprisingly, I was shy and Steve (not mentioning Sam) mocked me about it. I hadn’t been with a woman for decades and now, there was one I liked a lot – no wonder I was struggling with emotions and being shy.

“The ladies’ man doesn’t know how to talk to our new colleague,” he said, trying to hide the smirk on his face.

Whenever she appeared in the same room, whether I was alone or not, I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was, indeed, an angel. There was something in her that made me have a massive crush on her – was it a crush? I didn’t know how I spilt a drink all over me and the floor because I was distracted by her. “Shit,” I mumbled, red colour already on my cheeks. Was I blushing?

A towel appeared next to my head. Y/N was standing very close-oh, so close-to-me, giving me the smile that melted my insides. “T-Thanks,” I managed to whisper which made her giggle.

“This happens to me at least twice a week,” she replied, helping me clean the mess I made. “Hey, we haven’t talked to each other since the day I found you in the conference room.” I couldn’t believe she was talking to me. “I’d like to get to know you. Would you like come with me, Steve and Wanda for a drink tonight?”

My mouth almost dropped on the floor. “Uh, y-yeah, sure, I’d love to,” and for the first time, I smiled at her gently. I think that was the first smile in months I was able to produce.

I was surprised when she told me about the things she liked. The girl was a bookworm and she enjoyed old music. When I asked about the singers Steve and I listened to back in the day, she knew almost every one of them. Her latest Halloween costume was Rosie the Riveter and when she was younger; her costumes were mostly from the 1940-50s era.

“If I could own a car from 1945, it would be a dream come true,” she once said.

As the days and weeks went by, Y/N and I became very good friends. I was more relaxed, not self-conscious and when she hugged me after she found out about my horrible night, she would give me the best hugs in the world. What I loved about her-did I just say love-was how she cared about me.

At Tony’s Christmas party, Stark’s mouth was unstoppable and he spluttered everything I’d done to him and other innocent people. He didn’t leave any detail, especially when he mentioned how I killed his mother. In that moment, I thought she would hate me and never speak to me again. That night, when the party people left and Tony wasn’t able to move from a sofa, she took me by the metal hand, dragged me into her room and we discussed everything.

She didn’t judge me, yell at me or say it was my fault. No. When I explained it to her, she sighed; snuggled closer to the hand I hated so much and said, “it’s not your fault, Bucky. Yes, it’s horrible what you’ve done, however, it wasn’t you. Hydra did this to you. You didn’t have any other choice. It was either working for them or die. They manipulated you, tortured you. It’s so unfair.”

It was a shock. Y/N was indeed different. “How can you say it so easily?” I had to ask. “You are not blaming me, not yelling at me.”

“Well, I’m pretty much empathic – and no, that is not my power. I’m just saying what’s true and logical. You regret everything you’ve done and you said they brainwashed you. The basically programmed your brain and you became someone else.”

That night, we stayed together in her room, sleeping next to each other. In her words, she wanted to stay so I wouldn’t be alone after this and be able to calm me down if a nightmare comes to me. Fortunately, I slept the whole night.

When the morning came and I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was her peaceful face. She must have been dreaming that morning, a smile went to her lips and she snuggled closer to me. I was on cloud nine. In that second I wished we would stay in this position forever.

A week later, I fell down from the cloud when I noticed she started to avoid me. Y/N usually talked to me in the kitchen or in the living room while watching a movie. It changed and from conversations with me it was her and the damn phone she was holding between fingers most of the time. I had no idea what was happening.

This went on for another three weeks. Y/N immediately left the room when I arrived. Her eyes never looked at me and her head was lowered. When I asked Wanda or Natasha, they didn’t know the answer. No one knew what was happening to her.

We got the answer after almost two weeks. I just came back from the gym when Wanda stopped me in the middle of a hall. Her eyes were wide open, she was paler than usual. “I think you need to go to Y/N,” she mumbled. “I can sense something is not right.”

“What’s happening?” my voice shook. “Is she okay? Did something happen to her?!”

I couldn’t wait for an answer, quickly running to her floor only to make sure she was safe. She was, yes, unfortunately, the sobs coming from her throat weren’t healthy. I dryly gulped, slowly moving toward her bed. She was lying on left side, her back facing me while she was holding a pillow in hands, hugging it tightly.

“Y/N?” I was about to ask if she was alright but that would’ve been the most stupid question ever. I rather kept my mouth shut and waited for a word from her. When she didn’t turn around or said anything, I chose to do one simple thing.

As a friend and a man who was secretly in love with her, I spooned her from behind, wrapping my hands around her in a protective embrace. Even though she started to cry more, I gently kissed her temple and breathed in her scent. She was shaking. “It’s going to be alright,” I mumbled, knowing even this wouldn’t help her. “Please, tell me what happened, Y/N. I’d like to help you.”

“Y-you can’t,” her voice came out as a squeaky breath, filled with pain and sorrow. “They a-are dead.”

My heart dropped, I felt a bit confused by the words. “What?” I pulled her closer to me. “Who’s dead, Y/N?”

“M-my mom,” she said, “and m-my d-dad, they are gone,” and she started to cry heavily. “They are both gone, Bucky.”

It took long hours of crying and sleeping until she was able to talk about what exactly happened. I stayed with her the whole time, occasionally texting Steve about the situation. He wanted answers, to be able to reschedule Y/N’s work and missions. When I finally convinced her to at least drink water, she explained what happened.

“My mum was sick for the last few months and her state of health was getting worse. We knew she wouldn’t make it until summer, so we wanted to spend as much time as possible with her.” The words were difficult to say out loud. I stayed there, listened to her and held her soft, shaky hands. “This morning,” she sighed sadly, “dad took mum to the hospital. She had a high fever and needed to be hospitalized. T-they,” and she was again in tears, hiding her face in the palms of hands. “They never make it there. There was a car accident, few blocks from the hospital. Another car hit them on a crossroad. They both died in the car. Bucky, my parents are dead and I’m alone, without them.”

The funeral was indescribable. I stood by Y/N until the end of the ceremony, always ready to be there if she needed a shoulder to cry on. To my surprise, she never left me for a second. She needed my presence, to feel that she’s in fact not alone in this difficult time.

“At least they are together,” she whispered when we were back in the car, heading to the funeral feast.

If only I could feel what she felt at that moment. I lost my mother century ago. It was a blurred, odd feeling that meant almost nothing to me now. I was sad for her, yes, but I was more devastated because she was sad and heartbroken.

When she smiled again, which happened after two months, a strike of happiness went through me. It was the best birthday present I could receive. I had a party that day with the team. She shook my hand, gave a kiss on a cheek and handed me a book we talked about at the beginning of our friendship. We danced; we drank and enjoyed my birthday like it was New Year’s Eve.

That night, I found her standing alone on a balcony, holding a glass of champagne and looking at the surroundings. I gave her my coat which she accepted. It was cold outside and March wasn’t as warm as it used to be. When I came to her right side, she immediately leaned against my flesh hand and sighed.

This was it. The rush of feelings indicated it was the right time, the right place to tell her about the love I had for her. I bit my lower lip, took a deep breath and just as I opened my mouth: “I love you, Bucky,” she whispered. When I looked at her, Y/N had her eyes closed and she was tensed, afraid I would reject her.

I gave her a monumental in love smile and turned her toward me.  Oh, that beautiful little thing. “I was just about to say the same,” I giggled, leaning to her. “I love you too, Y/N.” Our lips connected in the first kiss we ever had and it was like fireworks and midnight. Her arms wrapped around my neck and I pulled her body closer to mine. My tongue brushed against her lower lip and she granted me the entrance into her mouth. It went from fireworks to a passionate make-out marathon that probably lasted for a century – at least it felt like it.

My birthday was a success and I had the most wonderful girlfriend in the world. I was the luckiest man alive and became even luckier when after two years of dating, she accepted to become my wife. I must admit, I cried with her.

We had fights, we didn’t talk to each other for days or weeks but in the end, we talked, discussed and find solutions to our disagreements and at the end of the day, we made up. Every couple fights struggles with differences and difficulties. We spent weeks apart, one being in Amsterdam on a mission and the other in Tokyo. All these things made our bond stronger and our love was indestructible.

And now-

-here I stand, nervous; facing a hall full of people I know and love while I keep both of my hand behind the back. The guests are dressed in the best robes and tuxedos. Steve is standing next to me, grinning like a little boy while Sam is trying to make me laugh at his dumb comments. On the other side is Wanda, holding a bunch of blue flowers that matched the dress she was wearing. Natasha was too standing next to the young woman, wearing exactly the same. All the girls from the team look beautiful-

-not as beautiful as the only woman I have my eyes for. When Y/N appears at the end of the aisle, I stop breathing, my heart skips a beat and a tear appears in the corner of the right eye. She is the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. My Y/N, walking down the aisle is a dream-come-true.

I still can’t believe we made it to our wedding day. She is marrying me, the man who once was an assassin and killed people, the man who was broken and mentally weak. I love her and I will never stop loving her. She’s the one.

Oh, she’s going to cry when she sees the car she always wanted.

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[Ask RPedia] Muse Controlling The Mun?

Anonymous asked: New reader! I have a question. My muse is a villain and sometimes I feel like they're more in-control of the blog than I, the Mun, am. Is that normal? 

This brings up some interesting questions, mostly, how much is the muse and how much is the mun? The issue is that with a lot of the things we see about writers and roleplayers, we commonly hear ‘I’m sorry! The muse made me do it!’ So it becomes something normal to expect: We’re going to lose control to what the muse wants. This can be truly awful if someone uses it as an excuse to let their character get away with everything up to and including murder. So let’s look at how much the muse is really taking over and what it means. (Spoiler: They aren’t really. You’re giving in to your knowledge of characterization and gut reactions and blaming it on them, and we’ll see how badly that can go.) As usual, read with the knowledge this is just one guy’s opinion, not an argument, or the end all be all of shit. Just what I’ve gathered over the years.

So as a writer it’s pretty normal to feel like the characters are writing themselves, this is true whether you play a side character, a villain, or a hero. There’s no one group of characters who take over the most, even if villains sound like they should. I mean. Evil overlords. It’s kind of their game right? But the truth is, there’s way more to it than the characters just seeming to have more control. 

Writers, that’s you and me babe, are essentially actors. Some very good writers are method actors. Method acting is when you put yourself in a character’s place, and ask yourself how the character would feel. You explore life as the character, expand your mind and sublimate your own emotions into that of the character. You essentially shelf yourself and live out their lives to get a more unhindered tap directly into their emotions and reactions.

This is instinctive, as a writer, and many people are not aware that they do it in quite so many words. They simply think of the Muse as a sort of half-alive being that talks to them, that they’re sharing space in your mind and memories. Sometimes people are afraid to voice or express that because it seems awkward, or out of touch. I mean, imaginary friends? That talk to you? Who has those as adults right? (Give or take some sensitive topics.) Surprise! It’s okay, you’re creating an identity within yourself for the purpose of acting, and will wear that persona to get in better touch with their goals and instincts. This is a normal human process. We do this. It happens.

So with method acting, or rather method writing in our cases, it almost feels like the roles have come alive. We understand the characters intuitively. We’ve harnessed our memories, our emotions, our knowledge of situations and growth as a character and allowed ourselves to live, or relive them as we write them. This can form extremely strong attachments and memories to those characters. I myself sort of wanna slug people who say they aren’t real because they feel so real. They feel so strongly there that they are my friends, and they are important to me as both a coping mechanism and as a way to write. Maybe don’t hit people, but it’s not going to hurt anything to love and appreciate your muses like I do.

In fact, treating them as their own people helps you create a compartmentalization box around them. You can define their ‘edges’ so to speak, to keep them from leaking into your own personality. Since you’ve invested so much time and effort into making sure they feel, breathe, and exist on a level that makes your writing so much better, of course they’ll fucking leak, dude. That’s like, it’s just a part of you you attributed to another name. It’s a persona you wear to act like that person. You remember the shit they do, not vice-versa, and what they do changes your approach in life however minutely. The thing is... they are never actually in control.

I know! It feels that way sometimes right? This unstoppable urge to do something because it feels so right for the character, so perfect as a reaction. The easiest way to put it into words, or to understand it, is to go ‘well the Muse feels in control’ but it’s okay. They aren’t, you just know the best course of action as that character. You understand the Muse’s point of view, and your development of this persona is so advanced that you can react as them without thinking about it. So you don’t think about it, why waste braincells on that, when you can begin creating something we like to call immersion instead? Immersion is important to get a really good depth to a character, and we experience it both as a writer, and as a consumer of media.

When we go to a movie, or read a book, we aren’t sitting there thinking about that movie or book from an outsider’s point of view unless we’re really trying or we aren’t that into books/movies. When you get a good one, you forget you exist. You fall into the suspension of disbelief and immerse yourself in it. You don’t think about your seat, you don’t think about your life. You adapt your empathy to the story being told, to characters onscreen. Your heart thrills with their victories, and falls with their loss. This is also part of the human ability to adapt to other points of view. Turns out, we got empathy up the ASS.

That’s why we anthropomorphize animals, we give them human traits to explain behaviors which are... probably not what we think, but it’s cute. You don’t have to stop, unless it might be harmful to the health of the animal, or causing issues in scientific explanations of these behaviors, but it shows we empathize so much with animals. Whoo boy, we see absolutely any animal and at least one human goes FRIEND! and bolts across the meadow to be besties. We see an animal in pain? We want to help it. We see an animal going hungry? We want to feed it. We see anything happening to something that isn’t even human, we understand that problem from the perspective of the animal, reflect that onto our own emotions, and act accordingly to either make it stronger (yes! You love tummy rubs don’t you!) or lesser (You poor thing! Here’s more water. You must be so thirsty.) in reaction to that empathy. We care. We as a species care. This is why we can look at a sagging chair and thing the poor thing is tired. It’s a fucking chair people, but hey, I guess that’s our superpower.

We do that for other humans to, of course, that’s why the sad eyed children in commercials were supposed to work. They function on the principle of battering your empathy and sympathy until you try to fix it. But the place they fall flat is giving us a tangible story we understand and connect with. This goes to show, thankfully, humans are also extremely limited in where we throw that empathy the strongest. We don’t like keeping other people’s stories in our head 24/7, or we get lost, unless they have a significant connection with us. 

We actually have something we like to call Dunbar’s Number, which is a proposed idea that there’s a limited number of close stable relationships we can maintain. We think it’s about 100-250 people we can comfortably hang out with at any given time without feeling out of touch with them. Cool right? We actually fuck with that number on Facebook, studies show we tend to only keep up with the lives of about 150-200 people comfortably and more than that stresses us out. Okay wait, I got a little side tracked with cool info.

The point is, we connect to people because as humans we are empathetic and stories make us relive things. We watch movies and read books and listen to our coworker’s funny story to connect to those emotions. Those emotions are at times connected to fictional characters. Once we start feeling a connection to someone else’s imaginary friends, what stops us from making our own imaginary friends so in depth, so real, that we feel a connection to them? Part of our ability to imitate others, to act, to understand their lives, to put ourselves in their shoes depends on our ability to assume that other points of view are people.

So, Muses are as far as our emotions and brains are concerned, people. Fictional people, yes, and we should always keep that line in mind. Once we stop seeing the line of fiction and reality, shit does downhill really fast. We start attributing things to the Muse rather than taking responsibility as a writer. Because they can force us to have a kneejerk emotional response when we’re currently letting ourselves occupy their space, we assume they can force anything. They are the tiny man at the controls, laughing evilly while they hurt someone else’s character.

I mean, you’re not mean right?

You’d never hurt someone on purpose, like your character is doing.

It must be them.

That’s where shit goes wrong really quickly. Once you compartmentalize and develop a distance between you, and the outcome of what you do, it becomes so much easier to blame ‘someone else’. But it is you, I’m so sorry if you are scared of what you are capable of, but it is you. There is no Muse who can actually take you over completely without it being part of a significantly atypical neural landscape that may need a form of psychological help. It’s easy to attribute the darker parts of yourself to ‘someone else’ in your head, but... you can’t. The thing that separates you here is your willingness to carry them out in reality verses fiction.

It is alright to have bad thoughts. I know, sometimes people can get a little obsessed with purity of the soul. This happens in religions, militaries, utopias and dystopias, this happens in any place with an ideal to strive for, this happens everywhere. People push for purity, because they imagine that if no one ever had a bad thought, that bad things could not exist. It’s not a functional way of living by any means, but let’s put that oft spoken of empathy and ability to see a Point of View to work here. It’s understandable that if you boil it down to the simplest answer, no one having any bad urges at all is the best one if somehow you could accomplish that. But it misses a lot of other factors, and it won’t work. 

It doesn’t take into account what people are. We are imaginative. We are complex. We need to understand what happens when we do something. We want to see things that are bad, or wrong, and develop problem solving methods for those situations, or similar situations. So we do think of bad things and it’s alright! That’s fine! The shit that is absolutely horrifying for another person, does not have to be horrifying for us. We are individuals, and so long as we respect the boundaries of others, and give fair warning when expressing ourselves, we have to go through the darkest, most disgusting underbelly of humanity to understand it. We cannot be satisfied with ‘it’s bad, don’t do it’ or our parents arguments of just doing what they say because it’s bad would have had a lot more weight. You cannot forbid another person from thinking of something you don’t like, because they do not have your experiences or limits within them. 

We are raised to question and explore limits for ourselves in a very personal fashion. Don’t be ashamed of that, don’t. It’s one of our greatest strengths. The ability to push empathy into fictional territory to explore problem solving methods and what if’s so we can develop further as a whole. We aren’t perfect, of course. When we imagine what we would do if we were scared, it rarely matches up with real life. As much as you yell at horror movies not to drop the weapon, how many of us might drop the weapon without thinking and be cursing ourselves while outrunning Chainsaw McStabby? But the fact that we understand that hanging onto that weapon is a good fucking idea, comes from us exploring things that no one wants to happen to them.

So you’re going to have ‘bad thoughts’. You’re going to think of situations which other people have experienced and been traumatized by. It happens. It exists. It’s okay. The point at which that becomes bad is when you inflict it on others without permission. Fictional scenarios have a level of permission to explore shit we wouldn’t. As a people exploring this medium, we’ve learned about squick (things that simply make us uncomfortable and feel icky that we aren’t ready to endure) and triggers (things that set off a response, in psychology usually relating to panic attacks or PTSD, or other forms of flashbacks). There are certain things that cause these squicks and triggers disproportionately to the rest of existence. We’ve decided to tag those, so people can explore them at their own speed.

This is an amazing healthy social growth thing honestly, as an aside. We have, through fictional works, developed a rather solid list of things that people like to be warned about, and have as a social unit, put those into play to make sure people are safe. There’s a few things that go wrong, sometimes people don’t understand the labels, sometimes people forget them, or don’t use them. Sometimes people have one that is pretty rare and unique, so no one knows to tag and it’s superfluous to the larger group. But as a big picture, we commonly hit the big shit with a nail on the head every time. This shows groupthink built to ID problems, and solve them in a way that allows people to actively continue empathetic troubleshooting and exploration, without damaging a portion of the group. We’re functioning as a single organism protecting the vulnerable already hurt parts of itself, while still continuing an action using the less experienced and worn down parts to push through and understand it more fully. It’s amazing.

So while we mutate the ideas a little this way or that way, we’re just exploring ways to understand it. People say ‘this is wrong’ and we auto-correct over the sizable population doing this. It’s okay to be wrong. It’s okay not to write thing perfectly, or to understand them if we’re exploring them. We may be exploring a related idea through a format we can apply it to, and get an entirely different lesson. That’s okay too. So don’t worry, you’re part of a much larger communal whole, and thinking of bad shit for you villain to do is helpful. So long as you know, people can opt in or opt out. We need forms of crisis to solve and grow, even if other people have faced those crisis and come out with a perspective of their own already. Limiting other people with your perspective damages their growth as a person, and everyone needs to make mistakes in order to learn from them. As long as those mistakes take steps to avoid hurting others, then don’t attack them, encourage them with changes and ways to alter their perception more towards a realistic goal, and remember their goals may be different. They might be taking a round-about or unused path to their destination and you have to respect that you don’t know everything even if you’ve experienced the path they took and came out with a different opinion, emotion, issue, goal, or story. 

Now that we have that caveat out of the way, and we understand it’s natural to mentally follow the path leading into the dark sometimes... Your ass better understand it ain’t the god damn Muse. It’s still you, and as a player you have a responsibility. You are in control of them, no matter how much it feels like you aren’t. You are the one who will have to deal with whatever comes of their actions. You have responsibility. The fallout of your actions while in-character fall squarely on your shoulders, with no respite. That’s it. Period. There is not “But--!” There is only you fucking did it. You wrote it, read it, and decided to hit send. Your character is not hitting send. Your character does not stop you from understanding what is written. Your character doesn’t grab you and throw you out of the way to do things. You make the choice to let it into the world.

You can write that thing they want! No matter what it is! But then you have to let yourself take on a sort of ‘Godhood’ in relation to your Muses. You are in full control of their lives, you can rip off their limbs in accidents. You can destroy their lives. Change their names. Curse or bless them. You can rewrite their histories, make them look different, swap their genitalia, and throw nasty wrenches into their games. So as far as your Muses and characters go, you’re their God. You have all the power.

And as usual, ‘Why would God let this happen?’ comes into play. We like to make anyone with the power to stop things, responsible for the things. If you see something bad or wrong or badong going on, you netted the job of editing it. Fix what they did. Create an alternate universe and smash the one that would have caused problems for your real life under your thumb. Make sure your character’s initial instincts about a situation and another person’s Muse, doesn’t hurt the second layer of their reality. That is, in other words, behind the 4th wall another player exists and you have to be aware of that. You get to make sure the other player is safe. Give them warnings and know their limits. As a narrator, explain what’s going on that your Muse doesn’t realize, and make sure they know what is going on is the character. Know yourself that it is a character, and you have control. 

Once you stop letting your character be the only voice on the keyboard, your writing will get that much better too. You can start playing against yourself, showing more details by cracking open things they say, and displaying the innards for the other player playing God with their own characters. The more they understand, the better they can respond. This give stories you can enjoy with them more depth and realism. Share. Share everything. Share the power, the story, the limelight, the details of your character’s soul. Bare them to each other, and then do like writers always do:

... Totally fuck with them. 

So in short after all that nattering: Yeah it is normal to feel like your Muse is in control. They aren’t, and you need to be aware of the consequences of your actions while wearing their skin, and be ready to alter shitty things or at least point out they’re fictional; but they do feel like it, right? It’s amazing how we can empathize with something we created, and I think it’s beautiful so long as we remember the line. We have to remember the difference between us and them. They can be erased over time or changed, but we have to live with what they’ve done and fix it or cherish it. There is a line, and that line is OOC/IC. The Muse is not you, and you are not your Muse. You just play one on TV. Have fun.

New Post has been published on https://magzoso.com/tech/2019s-10-defining-moments-in-venture-capital/

2019’s 10 defining moments in venture capital

Every year, the tech industry experiences moments that serve as guideposts for future entrepreneurs and investors looking to profit from the wisdom of the past.

In 2017, Susan Fowler published her heroic blog post criticizing Uber for its culture of sexual harassment, helping spark the #MeToo movement within the tech industry; 2018 was the year of the scooter, in which venture capitalists raced to pour buckets of cash into startups like Bird, Lime and Spin, hoping consumer adoption of micro-mobility would make the rushed deals worth it.

These last twelve months have been replete with scandals, new and interesting upstarts, fallen CEOs and big fundraises. Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes finally got a court date, SoftBank’s Masayoshi Son admitted defeat (see: “In the case of WeWork, I made a mistake”), venture capitalist Bill Gurley advocated for direct listings and denounced big banks’ underwriting skills, sperm storage startups battled for funding and Away’s dirty laundry was aired in an investigation conducted by The Verge.

The list of top moments and over-arching trends that defined this year is long. Below, I’ve noted what I think best represent the largest conversations that occurred in Silicon Valley this year, with a particular focus on venture capital, followed by honorable mentions. As always, you can email me ([email protected]) if you have thoughts, opposing opinions, strong feelings or relevant anecdotes.

SoftBank Group Corp. chairman and CEO Masayoshi Son speaks during a press conference on November 6, 2019 in Tokyo, Japan. (Photo by Alessandro Di Ciommo/NurPhoto via Getty Images)

1. SoftBank admitted failure: We’ll get to WeWork in a moment, but first, let’s talk about its multi-billion-dollar backer. SoftBank announced its Vision Fund in 2016, holding its first major close a year later. Ultimately, the Japanese telecom giant raised roughly $100 billion to invest in technology startups across the globe, upending the venture capital model entirely with its ability to write $500 million checks at the flip of a switch. It was an ambitious plan and many were skeptical; as it turns out, that model doesn’t work too well. Not only has WeWork struggled despite billions in funding from SoftBank, several other of the firm’s bets have wavered under pressure. Most recently, SoftBank confirmed it was selling its stake in Wag, the dog-walking business back to the company, nearly two years after funneling a whopping $300 million in the then-three-year-old startup. Wag failed to accumulate value and was struck by scandal, leading to SoftBank’s exit. Why it matters: ditching one of its more high profile bets out of the monstrous Vision Fund wasn’t even the first time this year SoftBank admitted defeat. Once an unstoppable giant, SoftBank has been forced to return to reality after years of prolific dealmaking. No longer a leader in VC or even a threat to other top venture capitalists, SoftBank’s deal activity has become a cautionary tale. Here’s more on SoftBank’s other uncertain bets.

2. WeWork pulled its IPO. The biggest story of 2019 was WeWork. Another SoftBank portfolio, in fact the former star of its portfolio, WeWork filed to go public in 2019 and gave everyone full access to its financials in its IPO prospectus. In August, the business disclosed revenue of about $1.5 billion in the six months ending June 30 on losses of $905 million. The IPO was poised to become the second-largest offering of the year behind only Uber, but what happened instead was much different: WeWork scrapped its IPO after ousting its founding CEO Adam Neumann, whose eccentric personality, expensive habits, alleged drug use, desire to become Israel’s prime minister and other aspirations led to his well-publicized ouster. There’s a lot more to this story, click here for more coverage of the 2019 WeWork saga. Why it matters: WeWork’s unforgiving IPO prospectus painted a picture of a high-spending company with no path to profit in sight. For years, Silicon Valley (or New York, where WeWork is headquartered) has allowed high-growth companies to raise larger and larger rounds of venture capital, understanding that eventually their revenues would outgrow their expenses and they would achieve profitability. WeWork, however, and its fellow ‘unicorn,’ Uber, made it all the way to IPO without carving out a strategy of reaching profitability. These IPOs ignited a wide-reaching debate in the tech industry: does Wall Street care about profitability? Should startups prioritize profits? Many said yes. Meanwhile, the threat of a downturn had startups across industries cutting back and putting cash aside for a rainy day. For the first time in years, and as The New York Times put it, Silicon Valley began trying out a new mantra: make a profit.

3. A whole bunch of CEOs stepped down: Adam Neumann wasn’t the only high profile CEO to move on from their company this year. In a move tied to The Verge’s investigation, Away co-founder and CEO Steph Korey stepped down from the luggage company, instead becoming its executive chairman. Lime’s CEO Toby Sun stepped down, shifting to another role within the company. On the public end of the ecosystem, McDonald’s, REI, Rite Aid and many others replaced their leaders. According to CNBC, nearly 150 CEOs left their post in November alone, setting up 2019 to break records for CEO departures with nearly 1,500 recorded already. Why it matters: All of these departures were caused by varying factors. I will focus on WeWork and Away, which took center stage of the startups and venture capital universe. The recent Away debacle reinforces the role of the tech media and its ability to present well-reported facts to the public and enact significant change to business as a result. Similarly, much of Adam Neumann’s ouster came as a result of strong reporting from outlets like The Wall Street Journal, Bloomberg and more. From facilitating a toxic, cutthroat culture to paying millions in company dollars for an unnecessary private jet, Away and WeWork’s situations proved standards for startup CEOs has shifted. Whether that shift is here to stay is still up for debate.

4. The IPO market was unforgiving to unicorns: WeWork never made it to the stock markets, but Uber, another scandal-ridden unicorn, did. The company (NYSE: UBER), previously valued at $72 billion, priced its stock at $45 apiece in May for a valuation of $82.4 billion. It began trading at $42 apiece, only to close even lower at $41.57, or down 7.6% from its IPO price. Not stellar, in fact, quite bad for one of the largest venture-backed companies of all time. Uber, however, wasn’t the only one to struggle with its IPO and first few months on the stock market. Other companies like Lyft and Peloton had disappointing results this year confirming the damage inflated valuations can cause startups-turned-public companies. Though a rocky IPO doesn’t mark the end of a company, it does tell you a lot about Wall Street’s appetite for Silicon Valley’s top companies. Why it matters: 2019’s tech IPOs illustrated a disconnect between the public markets and venture capitalists, whose cash determines the value of these high-flying companies. Wall Street has realized these stocks, which NYT journalist Erin Griffith recently described as “Publicly Listed Unicorns Miserably Performing,” are far less magical than previously assumed. As a result, many companies, particularly consumer tech businesses, may delay planned offerings, waiting until the markets stabilize and become hungry again for big-dreaming tech companies.

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order‘s Director Knew ‘Thoughtful, Grounded’ Fighting Gameplay Would Matter Most

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A lightsaber is a one-hit killing machine. Stig Asmussen, the director of Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order, reminded me of that when I asked him how his team at Respawn Entertainment was able to make their ambitious new Star Wars game feel so distinctive. “We had to create these systems that would force the player to unlock the enemy to allow for that one hit kill,” Asmussen said. Instead of mindlessly cutting through waves of enemies, the gameplay in Fallen Order is full of lightsaber-enhanced grappling bouts. You’re forced to take on one opponent at a time—and these strategic little duels can even extend into entire boss battles. It’s what he refers to as “thoughtful combat.”

Respawn’s dedication to creating brutal, yet intuitive lightsaber combat makes Fallen Order among the most promising Star Wars games in years. Lightsaber blades are devastating in Fallen Order. Cutting through the obstacles and enemies of the game’s exotic planets, there is a sense of real danger surrounding these glowing swords. But while the combat gameplay is loud and chaotic, it’s also refreshingly minimal, initially centered around just two buttons: attack and block/parry. It’s such a simple, well-built system that I barely needed a tutorial before firing up the campaign.

Stig Asmussen speaks at the panel for Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order during April’s Star Wars Celebration in Chicago.

Barry BrecheisenGetty Images

In George Lucas’s original Star Wars film trilogy, lightsabers are unstoppable weapons to behold. They’re heavy, crackling with power, and in the hands of the wrong individual, they seem treacherous. Even the most casual Star Wars fans can recall the anguish in Luke Skywalker’s face after Darth Vader eviscerates the young Jedi’s hand clean off the bone with his sizzling red lightsaber. It’s moments like this that make lightsabers among the most memorable—and crushing—weapons in film history.

Video games have long tried to bottle up the phenomenon of the lightsaber. THQ’s Jedi Power Battles from 2000 offered a zany, arcade approach to lightsaber dueling. The combat, however, more closely resembled the hyper-powered nonsense of Lucas’s prequel trilogy than the series’ more samurai-inspired origins. Games like The Force Unleashed and Knights of the Old Republic immersed players in narratively rich swordsman tales with boundless Jedi abilities. You could obliterate the playing field in Force Unleashed, and waggling around multiple yellow lightsabers in Old Republic was fun.

But Lucas’s franchise has always been known for its down-to-earth, introspective feeling. And Fallen Order is the first Star Wars game to really investigate the humanity behind the whirring laser swords. Unlike the lead players of previous Star Wars games such as Shadow of the Empire‘s Dash Rendar or Jedi Knight‘s Kyle Katarn, its protagonist Cal Kestis doesn’t move like a rigid block of polygons. His neck bounces when he runs. He’s emotive. When he ignites his lightsaber, his hand jolts at the impact. You can feel the influence of strikingly human games like Last of Us and God of War here.

Time will tell if Fallen Order will fulfill the lofty expectations of the ever-demanding Star Wars fanbase. But whether the game succeeds or not, one thing seems clear after I spent a few hours in the main campaign: The lightsaber combat in Fallen Order is absolutely killer. I sat down with Asmussen to talk about how Respawn put together a fighting style that makes their upcoming title feel more nuanced and singular in gameplay than any Star Wars game before it.

Esquire: We’ve always wanted a Star Wars game with good lightsaber combat. The combat system in Fallen Order seems simple and to the point. How did your team go about crafting it?

Stig Asmussen: First, we wanted it to feel grounded. And we wanted it to be something that reflected the journey that the hero is going on, which is also the journey that the player is going on as well. You’re a student. You’re learning. You don’t know how to do everything at first, but over the course of the game, your skillset grows, and the student eventually becomes a master. Really, it comes down to: If it’s going to be grounded, it’s not the amount of moves, it’s how you use the moves you have and how they are used as a response to the enemies, how you’re evaluating your timing windows and planning your attacks.

You don’t know how to do everything at first, but over the course of the game, your skillset grows, and the student eventually becomes a master.

ESQ: Was one of the main initiatives of Fallen Order to make a game that perfected lightsaber combat?

SA: Outside of crafting a real Star Wars story, that’s right up there. We needed to have what we called “thoughtful combat.” We wanted the player to, just like a Jedi, be patient. To walk into a situation and analyze things and think, “What’s the best approach?” One of the early things that we had to crack was: How do we make a fight like this feel compelling, knowing that the lightsaber is basically a weapon that will, one hit, kill your enemy? So, we had to create these systems that would force the player to unlock the enemy to allow for that one hit kill. That’s why we brought things in like block meters, that’s why we allowed the player to reflect blaster bolts from ranged enemies—but also if you time it correctly, send the bolt back at them.

Then what it becomes is each enemy unit has their own purpose. And when you start to put them together in different combinations, then the player really has to think. They have to be very honest in how they are responding to the different enemies’ positions and what their roles are.

ESQ: Were there any Star Wars games that your team took inspiration from?

SA: We looked at as many as we could. I think there was a sale on Steam. Very early on, you could get, like, every single Star Wars game for twenty bucks. We had played these games before, growing up, but we stopped for a week and really started looking at the old Jedi Knight games, even looking at a game like Knights of the Old Republic, because I think they really nailed story. They nailed atmosphere. So yeah, we look at those games and pulled what was working from them and tried to help that influence the work that we were doing.

Asmussen says the player must be patient when engaging enemies in lightsaber combat, just like a Jedi.

Courtesy

ESQ: Were there games outside of Star Wars that were an influence?

SA: Yeah. Countless games.

ESQ: You worked on the God of War series.

SA: Yeah, I worked on God of War 1 through God of War 3, and obviously that made an influence on me, not only on a design standpoint, but from a production and “how you make games” approach—the standard for where your bar is, what kind of quality, that kind of thing. But, to be honest with you, I’d be lying to you if I didn’t say Star Wars influenced the work that I did on God of War games and other games that I’ve worked on. So, it’s funny that it goes full circle.

When we’re creating different mechanics for the game, you look at countless other games and we say, “Hey, we need to get this certain feature of this mechanic stood up, here’s an example of something in another game. That should be what we’re striving to get to. And then, once we get there, how do we evolve it and make it our own?” We did that across the board. And I’m a strong believer in rapid prototyping, and rather than just noodling in on one aspect and getting it just right, trying to work horizontally and trying to get a lot of things working at once, so we can assess how they all work together, and then building them up from there. Finding the synergy between them.

‘Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order’

$50.94 amazon.com

ESQ: You’ve mentioned something about the combination of the fun and the drama, that it creates the Star Wars magic. What is that secret ingredient that makes a Star Wars story?

SA: You know what? I don’t know yet. I’ve learned a lot from working with Lucasfilm, and the team has as well. I think there’s just something that feels right. It’s like, “Oh! We’ve got it!” But I don’t know that there’s a formula that I’ve put together on my end that’s like, “Add this, a dash of that, and you get Star Wars.” It’s more of a feel thing.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Dom Nero Video Editor Dom Nero is a writer and video editor based out of Astoria, NY.

The post <em>Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order</em>‘s Director Knew ‘Thoughtful, Grounded’ Fighting Gameplay Would Matter Most appeared first on Otis Dyke.

from The Otis Dyke Lifestyle Blog https://www.otisdyke.co.uk/star-wars-jedi-fallen-orders-director-knew-thoughtful-grounded-fighting-gameplay-would-matter-most/

Bitcoin Billionaire 6

Bitcoin Billionaire 6

Bitcoin will arrive like an unexpected tsunami for most people who will be shocked by all the changes to their daily lives and personal finances that this strange new currency will bring, seemingly overnight. They will think when they start hearing about crypto currency that it is some sort of social fad, or they may think that Bitcoin is an app like Facebook or maybe PayPal, something they can live without. The inevitable Bitcoin and Ethereum big-events, breakthroughs, milestones, hacks, and catastrophes    feel crucially important to everyone who is invested in the space both ideologically and financially. There are clearly serious political dimensions to Bitcoin as every nation, jurisdiction, and bank on the planet will be forced to come up with a Bitcoin strategy.  Blockchain enthusiasts see opportunities the so called, un-banked. They see the potential for micro- loan payments between people of the First World countries and women and men in the Second and Third World. There are consequential matters of freedom and empowerment, like Bitcoin’s potential for eliminating the huge fees migrant workers pay when they try to send money back home to their families. Billions of hard earned and badly needed dollars could stay in the migrant worker’s own hands if they transferred the money using Bitcoin with its comparatively tiny fees for the actual transfer and no foreign exchange fees for currency conversion.  We crypto currency enthusiasts learn all too soon that the world is not watching, that most people do not care, and in the end the big Bitcoin halving event, and the various hard and soft forks amounted to mere speed bumps during  a technological race that has moved on to new events at new locations by new participants. Bitcoin is a product of consensus, and consensus, in turn, is a function of mathematics, computer code, and game theory.

I wrote this book for new first-time Bitcoin adventurers. I also wrote it for serious players out there who are doing commerce in the blockchain and Bitcoin space, and who are trying to understand the new and fast-emerging body of laws and regulations, concerning their  business activities. My analysis of the American SEC or Securities Exchange Commission’s recent bulletin posted on their website about the Ethereum blockchain’s DAO hack will require a chapter unto itself. In another chapter about Bitcoin mining, I will write about my personal niche in the blockchain space:  real-estate and property titles, document securement, time-stamping, anti-tampering tools, and unbreakable encryption. I am a Bitcoin miner and I do it for profit, but just as important to me, only miners get to vote.  Mining is vital because it provides the essential electronic infrastructure that blockchains run on. The mining machines, or ‘transaction verification servers ’as I call them when I am selling the concept to skeptical authorities, connect to other nodes over the Internet worldwide in real- time to form unstoppable networks.

Open minded people who investigate what is now happening with blockchain technologies such as Bitcoin and Ethereum, and who then take a chance and invest will at a minimum have their lives enhanced by suddenly finding themselves making international contacts and doing global transactions. They will start thinking about the world in terms of politics, finance, economics, and technology. The profits in this new digital economy are staggering, and I must admit that it is completely exhilarating when these cryptos take off. The gambler’s rush from Bitcoin and Ethereum is better than holding a two dollar parlay bet on a longshot horse that becomes a wire to wire Triple Crown winner;  because the thrill of victory often lasts for several months at a time, and making a killing  is not a one time event. These digital assets often take off with afterburners blazing and they fly straight up the charts with near vertical trajectories. We are talking about seeing your money double in two months, and then do it again the following month, and then rise by 30% in a week. We are used to seeing thousand percent annual increases on ICO or initial coin offerings, and on crypto tokens of which there are hundreds. There is around one-hundred billion dollars invested in the tokens right now, with an additional several hundred million dollars of capital invested by corporations such as Microsoft, Wanxiang, and IBM, by venture capital companies such as Fenbushi, and by governments, and the major accounting firms such as Deloitte, and consortiums of big banks like those that   have partnered with Blythe Masters. Whether Blythe Masters becomes the first Bitcoin Billionaire remains to be seen, but I think that her Digital Assets will have the greatest dollar volume of all the global crypto currency and blockchain companies by far. They are just now finishing a complete rebuild of the ASX Australian Securities Exchange, and she has her eyes on the Toronto Stock Exchange among others.  Her blockchain distributed ledger systems will be used by many large international banks.

 In early 2016, I started exploring Bitcoin. I bought my first Bitcoin for $630.  Today, a year and a half later, Bitcoin is trading at $4,066 and people are saying that although it is down today it will most likely break $5,000 soon. Others say that until it hits $10,000 the big money will sit on the sidelines and wait and see. Most financial analysts and economists would agree that if only five-percent of the money that is currently invested in gold or gold derivatives worldwide transferred into Bitcoin that the increase in the value of a single Bitcoin would be astounding!

Sandra Ro and her CME group have teamed up with the Royal Mint in London, England to create digital gold tokens. Sandra Ro already exhibits the staid confidence and presumed authority of a billionaire.  If my guess is right, she has more than one traditional  billionaire backing her efforts. This gives rise to the question of whether an Ethereum Billionaire is in the same category as Bitcoin Billionaire, and for the purposes of this book any crypto billionaire will qualifies in the race for the first crypto currency or blockchain billionaire.

Jen Lee is ZenGold’s CEO and Viewfin vice president. ZenGold or ZGC is a token on the Metaverse blockchain. Metaverse is located in China and is available  on the Internet at mvs.live .  Metaverse  prides itself on being the first public blockchain in China. ZenGold offers   smart contract gold derivatives.  ZenGold backs the  ZGC  token  with physical gold held at the Shanghai Gold exchange.   My friend Philip McMaster lives in China and is helping me find used mining equipment. He introduced me to Eric Gu at Consensus 2017 in New York. Eric Gu is the founder and CEO of Viewfin, the company that developed Metaverse.  Given the head start that Eric has, his huge target market, and his solid connections to the largest investors in China, Eric Gu  may well be the one to become  the first Bitcoin Billionaire. I predict big things for Metaverse and for the ‘Entropy’ ETP token. Westerners are puzzled at the choice of that name because we have a generally negative connotation rather than an image of a positive change of state like ice melting into water which is how it was intended, and  how the Chinese interpret it.  Possibly they are better informed of the second law of thermodynamics that states entropy can only increase over time. Consider China’s biggest project of the century ‘One Belt One Road’. This name leaves us confused in the West as we have trouble relating ‘One Belt’  to  a string of transportation infrastructure projects that are being constructed  to  restore the ancient Silk Road overland intercontinental trading route. Language problems are always severe to say the least, and doing business with China requires a thick skin and a willingness to get over the constant communication hurdles. The biggest app in China is WeChat. The app is an aggregator that has games, banking, messaging, and so on. It is like going back to the early AOL model of a closed environment. Metaverse intends to follow the aggregator model, and has Avatars which are personalized to represent the person who owns the account. People, companies, or even Avatars themselves can own other Avatars or fractions of other Avatars.  Avatars can shop and do business independently and anonymously. Metaverse  has pioneered the use of   Oracles that act as guarantors for transactions done by the Avatars. The fundamental philosophy of Metaverse is that the blockchain environment should not exclude lawyers, accountants. and regulators but should accommodate them as Oracles. Metaverse has a new social network that I am one of the few westerners to have joined. Did I panic and flee when the application   to join  had a box requesting that I give them my blood type? Should one be alarmed that the growth of Metaverse will hopefully result in a ‘Programable Society’?  No, that is exactly the kind of flexibility to cultural differences that is needed to get things done. That, and a tolerance for major time zone adjustments, visa requirements, language barriers, and seventeen-hour flights.

I needed some cash today so much like digging in the couch for lost coins and raiding the piggy bank, I surprised myself when I raised $485 from QuadrigaCX, my crypto currency exchange in Vancouver, Canada.  I sold   three and a half Litecoins for $63, each which was great because I had paid just three dollars each for them eighteen months earlier. I also sold a half of an ETH or Ether, the Ethereum token for $270. Just some residual pocket change from closing out an old wallet with a small balance that had grown to become significant.  I then received $6.07 worth of Bitcoin from Genesis Mining to my Blockchain.info bitcoin wallet on my iPhone. On top of it all that evening I made $23 from my Steemit blog account at   https://steemit.com/@doubleeagle  where just under four hundred dollars remains of my eighty-dollar investment.  I earn about seventy cents per day from Slushpool  for the hashes produced by my noisy old, Antminer 5 Bitcoin miner. The seriously outdated but reliable rig has paid itself off many times over and is still running fine.  The key to my system of investing in Bitcoin is that I think of that seventy cents daily payout in Bitcoin which is around   17,000 to 18,000 Satoshis per day.  Imagine a time when a Satoshi is like a dollar is today, and when a Bitcoin will be worth well over one million dollars. I would say that this is all highly speculative, but in my view for the average person the extraordinary returns from crypto currencies are matched only by the lotteries which offer low odds of winning.  Ironically it seems to me that there are very high odds in favor of windfall profits if the Bitcoin is held long term. May I suggest redirecting some of your discretionary lottery budget to investments in crypto?

There is a reason why so few writers have tried to write a book about what is happening with Bitcoin. This, although it is probably the story of the century, and marks a great epoch in human history. Trying to write a book on this topic is like trying to drink from a much-referenced fire hose. Change is everywhere, and unexpected dramatic change happens weekly. Writers must feel as I do that the important things that they have researched and written about are largely irrelevant in mere months. There is an immediacy  due to the needs of real-time  day trading investors are looking for instant news. Most people find four or five trusted sources for news and then  follow these writers on YouTube and Steemit. There are major thefts of Bitcoin from exchanges now and then affecting prices, or news from China, or some new pump and dump hype, and FUD or ‘fear uncertainty and doubt’. There is always the potential for the digital tokens to disappear if they are not handled correctly or even sometimes if they are. This reminds me of how the penny mining stocks used to be, in the days of commodity exchanges like the VSE Vancouver Stock Exchange. Bitcoin is said to be economically modeled after a commodity such as gold. Bitcoin like gold has a limited supply of twenty-one million and is always becoming more expensive to produce.

Bitcoin went through the planned second ‘Halving Event’ in July of 2016 where the payout per ten- minute block dropped from twenty-five bitcoins to twelve and a half bitcoins per block until the next halving four years hence. The current volume of Bitcoin mined per day is $7.3 million dollars. This does not include transaction fees.  Miners are being rewarded about $300,000 USD per hour or $50,000 for each single ten-minute block. As you can imagine there is intense competition among miners to get these prizes. It is a mathematical probability decision as to whether a miner should gamble and go it alone where if the block is found the entire reward may be kept. I opted instead to join a large group of other independent miners from all over the world who plug our hash rate into Slushpool. Now the mathematical probability equation works in my favor. Marek Palatinus aka ‘Slush’ started this the world’s first mining pool at   Prague, in  the Czech Republic.  I chose Slushpool because they have demonstrated having the most successful experience of anyone to adapting to change.  We share the payouts including fees, we get to cast votes on critical issues, and we receive reliable daily revenue, which arrives in my Bitcoin wallet. I should say that I do not receive daily mining payouts any longer because when I went to spend the rewards with large transactions there were inordinately high fees due to the composite nature of all those little payouts. I have since switched my payouts from Slushpool and Genesis Mining to 0.01 BCT lots, and just leave them building at the pool or with Genesis. I intend to devote time in a later chapter to, Genesis Mining CEO and CFO Marco Streng and Marco Krohn, these two guys are prime candidates to become the world’s first Bitcoin Billionaire. Together these two world- class players have built l big mining operations for Genesis Mining in secret locations around the world including Iceland.  The island nation  has  obvious geothermal electric generation potential, and similar cold weather to Manitoba. These two guys are much more secretive than Bitmain’s two CEOs  Jihan Wu and Micree Zhan who appear  a little later in this  book. Surely from an academic perspective questions arise as to if companies having dual CEOs will become a trend in business? The only team in the past that I can think of would be Google’s Sergey Brin and Larry Page and that turned out to be  a roaring success.

Japan has surged ahead in Bitcoin adaptation nationally among the other G20 economies by adapting point of sale Bitcoin terminals in several hundred-thousand retail stores. The People’s Republic of China is still the dominant world player in Bitcoin because of all of mining and equipment manufacturing design that takes place there, and because their government has had the best Bitcoin strategy. Bobby Lee the CEO of BTCC the first, and still the largest Bitcoin exchange in China, who is a definite contender for the first Bitcoin Billionaire title, said recently that his company did not encounter much friction from the People’s Bank of China as they were growing their business because the PBOC views Bitcoin as a digital asset rather than as a currency. He also says we should not expect terminals to pay for goods with Bitcoin in China because even Hong Kong dollars are not permitted for use in China only the Renminbi China’s official currency may be used as legal tender.  Jihan Wu and Micree Zhan are co-CEOs of Bitmain the major manufacturer of Antminer Bitcoin ASIC Bitcoin mining equipment. Given the enormous scale of their operations which also include Antpool;  both of them would have to be leading contenders for the  first Bitcoin Billionaire title.  Bitmain’s Bitcoin mining hardware is chronically backlogged with orders for mining equipment. Their position is understandable.  Why should they sell the machines instead of just plugging them in and keeping both the machine and the money earned everyday Bitcoin mining?

The Bitcoin revolution comes at a most opportune time for the Chinese. They have excess hydro-electric generating facilities and they need cash for their rapid expansion. Bitcoin mining creates immediate cashflow that is both local and lucrative.  The situation is much the same in my home province of Manitoba, Canada; with our many large hydro-electric dams on the Nelson river that flows into the Hudson Bay. That’s right, the Hudson Bay, Manitoba has polar bears! We are quite far up north and even with global warming we can offer free cooling for eight months of the year because of our cold weather. The mining equipment  runs very hot and needs  constant cooling which accounts for a major percentage  of overall power usage . I have an ongoing lobby with a  mission  to promote Bitcoin mining in Manitoba. We are exploring the feasibility of importing one or two large shipping containers of used Bitcoin Miners from China to Winnipeg. I try to lobby the government, and Manitoba Hydro the electric utility which is a Crown Corporation to get involved. That is why I took some extra steps during my visa application to attend Devcon 2 the big worldwide Ethereum Developer’s Conference in Shanghai which I will go into later.

I watched a YouTube video today that was put out by Roger Ver who would definitely be in contention for the first Bitcoin Billionaire title. He says that he holds over half of the Bitcoins in Peter Smith’s Blockchain.info wallet, which is my recommended Bitcoin wallet. The wallet web portal is based Luxembourg,  but it seems that most transactions are routed through   some small islands off the west coast of Africa, and has more funds than all of the other  Bitcoin wallets combined. I keep my Bitcoin in my Blockchain.info wallets on my Samsung S7 Android, and on my iPhone 6, and I also have a matched version on my main desktop  PC. I really like the way the Blockchain.info wallet user interface works. They have fifteen million wallets in use and have completed one hundred million transactions. Peter Smith is another player with the potential to be the first Bitcoin Billionaire.

Ver was criticizing the Bitcoin Core team and Blockstream a closely related company that employees many Bitcoin Core developers. Adam Back heads up  Blockstream and he is a very respected long time Bitcoin developer. I sat across from him at lunch at Construct 2016 the invite only San Francisco developer’s conference put on by CoinDesk and sponsored by IBM. I said loudly so as to catch his ear that I liked the idea of flexible fees. I have interests in Bitcoin mining and I like earning mining fees.  So yes, I admit that I am biased, but  I still want fees to be fair for migrant workers and people in the third world. There are about two- hundred and fifty thousand dollars per day paid to miners in  fees. Roger Ver is saying that people will leave Bitcoin for alternative crypto currencies if fees get to high or the network has delayed confirmation times, what he warns could become a poor user experience. This was in fact happening and fees had risen from being nearly free to fifty dollars and more sometimes, which Core points out people were willingly paying albeit with a grumble. But everyone had made such high profits just on the increase in the value of Bitcoin alone that they could bear the fees with ease and they did.

Vitalik Buterin is an extremely intelligent young man who started out writing about Bitcoin and then created Ethereum, which is Bitcoin’s biggest competing currency.  The focus was no longer to be on the value of the Ethereum token ETH, but rather on the ability of coded ‘smart contracts’ to use the immutable blockchain in the EVM for legal commerce whereby the funds are not released until certain conditions are seen to have been fulfilled by the smart contract.   I must say that no one is complaining that Vitalik’s original vision of a cheap token did not work out, and Ethereum has soared to recent prices as high as four hundred dollars and can boast a total capitalization of thirty- billion dollars USD with rapid global multi faceted growth. So, will Vitalik be the world’s first Bitcoin Billionaire? I do not know, but he has been voted the most influential person in crypto by industry participants. Like so many intellectuals before him Buterin seems to eschew riches, instead, he is happy in his role as "Chief Scientist" for the Swiss non-profit Ethereum Foundation and in experiencing extensive travel and learning foreign languages. His sudden ability to speak Chinese surprises audiences as he takes questions and gives lectures in Mandarin. I was surprised to see Vitalik speaking fluent Russian when he met Vladimir Putin recently. Vitalik just announced that Metropolis will be released in late September of 2017 with a hard fork. ‘The Plasma Framework’ scalability solution will be done in coordination with Joseph Poon of ‘Lightening Network’ fame, and will feature 'zk-SNARKs' or zero knowledge proofs. Vitalik does not like mining, he says that it wastes electricity and computing power. He and Vlad Zamfir have been working on ‘Casper’ a Proof of Stake system that does not require Proof of Work mining. POW or Bitcoin Mining makes it too expensive in terms of electrical costs, equipment costs, maintenance costs, programming costs, and in the time needed to download the entire blockchain; for a hacker to build a super- computer and try to overpower or out-speed the blockchain in a malicious attack to harm the blockchain or to commit fraud.

In 2016 big money flowed into the development of Ethereum from Microsoft the sponsor of the event along with Wanxiang Blockchain Labs and Fenbushi the largest venture capital firm in Asia. We are talking an easy hundred million dollars committed with every indication that ‘all systems are go’ for even bigger things to come soon. The Devcon 2 event in Shanghai was successful beyond all measure and caused me to really stand up and take notice of what these alt-coin pioneers had already accomplished, and where they were headed.

There is a video commentator from Epicentre that I like to watch online named Meher and I wound up sitting beside him for a while in Shanghai at Devcon 2. I let him know that I liked it when he and Sebastien Couture and Brian Fabian Crain did online shows for Epicentre and that I was a fan. I was interested to see how he would describe the experience to his co-hosts and their viewers when he got back to Europe.  I tuned in on YouTube when the video came out. In the program, he said the event and the city of Shanghai seemed like “science fiction”. That it was like living a scene in a science fiction movie. He was spot on as usual. That is what it felt like to me as well only probably a lot more because being so much older I see so many things that would have looked like science fiction in the 1950s and 60s. It started right at the airport where I was chauffeured to the Hyatt on the bund hotel in an BYD all-electric car instead of taking the Maglev high-speed train into the crowded and colorfully  lit  streets of downtown  Shanghai.

Vlad Zamfir was received enthusiastically by the crowd of nearly 2,500 Ethereum professionals at DEVCON 2.  Vitalik   praised him highly to the crowd and thanked him for his assistance in dealing with a serious DDOS or dedicated denial of service attack some bad actors tried pulling in the middle of the night before in Shanghai. The attack was obviously planned to catch everyone in Ethereum off- guard because so many staff were in Shanghai and away from London and Switzerland, and to exploit the time zone differences.

The Construct 2017 conference in San Francisco was held in the Palace of Fine Arts an historic symbol of technology in the Bay Area.  I observed that it was a two Tesla event although, there was also a BMW electric car there which I thought was very futuristic. Vlad Zamfir seemed to me to be a little down at the conference and he looked tired. When he started his presentation on Casper, and how proof of stake was going for him and Vitalik, he was shocked to see that many people were doing other things and several were not even listening to what was really important news. He went through the very interesting talk anyway and I guess he realized that maybe either these were Bitcoin guys or maybe they intended to watch the video when it came out.  Later that day I listened to him again when there was a plenary on the threats of AI or artificial intelligence. Vlad clearly said that he was worried about inventing something that in the future might have unintended consequences that might somehow   technologically harm people instead of freeing them from state and banker’s control. He fears a government somewhere could somehow use some of this to control the entire population. Vlad was seeing the bad side of the world because he had been spending months   running game theory scenarios looking for fatal flaws that could be exploited by hackers of the Casper Proof of Stake Protocol that Vitalik has promised will take Ethereum away from mining. He  said that he was pushing as hard as he could ahead but the weight on his shoulders was a tremendous responsibility and was becoming a heavy burden, although he was more than up for the challenge. Thirty- billion dollars worth of Ethereum at risk now, and a perhaps a slight  risk  that despots somehow misuse these tools. Several months of serious game theory will do that to you. I think that by doing a full risk analysis Vlad is being responsible, and I am sure he will never end up doing anything but good.

There are plenty of good reasons to be suspicious about malicious bad-actors behind the scenes. State actors, money launderers, tax cheats, ransomware hackers, all manor of criminals that hide in the dark could try to use crypto to avoid the law. On the dark web Tor browser sites like Silk Road have already enabled criminal activity. It is common knowledge that the Tor browser was released by  US Office of Naval Research and DARPA in  2002. We also know about how Bit Torrent enabled peer to peer file sharing that could be used for pirating copyrighted material, and that there is pornography on the Internet or  how prostitutes could be contacted on the backpage website. So, do we just shut down the Internet?  Of course, we don’t, and we can’t because the Internet has become a huge indispensable sector of our society and economy.

We still do not know who Satoshi Nakamoto was or if he was just a cover name for  an operation of the United States or some other government. Possibly Bitcoin was designed as a fall back plan  because in 2008 a sudden catastrophic meltdown in the American economy based on bad mortgages took place that was becoming a crisis nearing that of the Great Depression of 1929, and a total collapse was feared imminent  by many top level officials at that time. Banks were failing and major companies where in terrible financial shape. Some people still claim that some of the larger Bitcoin transactions today are funding Black Ops worldwide. European authorities have also reported  that the Islamic State terrorist  cells   in Paris and Belgium  had used Bitcoin to fund operations before the horrible attacks.

I find it unfortunate that this  generation has to  function in a trust -less society in cyberspace and in  a trust-less society in the real world. The real world has fake news, propaganda and lies, and the crypto world has alias usernames, encryption, and reputation.  This crowd has a very strong need  for consensus and avoid contact with people who have been  shunned for the social transgression of saying that the group might be wrong about something. Algorithms on MSN and Facebook and many other social media sites give the viewer content that has been determined to appeal to them by their politics. I was determined not to say anything about the recent  American election because I am not a citizen of the United States. The Construct 2017 San Francisco event opened with exasperated announcements that many attendees were having trouble at the airport because of the tremendous confusion because  President Trump had just announced his immediate  travel ban. There were   terrible scenes on television  of families at the airport with their travel plans disrupted and their lives turned upside-down, some innocent travelers  were being held  in custody because of all of the confusion. Someone took the microphone on the stage and addressed the crowd with a defiant suggestion that the programmers  should fight to make blockchain based identity documents so that refugees with no passports or birth certificates could prove that they were legitimate refugees rather than the sleeper cell terrorists they were being accused of being.

Later at the lunch that I had basically shouted across the table  that I liked flexible fees for the benefit of Adam Back, I turned the topic as to whether or not judges could be trusted, because as I told them all that I find it shocking that they really do not trust judges or their  legal systems. I told  Matt Smith the  bright young  senior developer from   Gem  in  Los Angeles, that maybe it was generational, but   I still trusted judges.  I give everyone the benefit of the doubt and an assumption of honesty.  They had been conditioned to expect the worst from people  because  their real world ethics had begun to reflect their  cyber ethics, and  their game theory ethics.  I tried to argue that if one does not believe in ‘the good man or woman’ one probably will feel like a sucker trying to be  a ‘good man or woman’.  They got the last word in with “ Look at our last election”  to which I was pledged not to comment, everyone agreed  it  was a winning argument.

We still do not know who Satoshi Nakamoto was or if he was just a cover name for  an operation of the United States or some other government. Possibly Bitcoin was designed as a fall back plan  because in 2008 a sudden catastrophic meltdown in the American economy based on bad mortgages took place that was becoming a crisis nearing that of the Great Depression of 1929, and a total collapse was feared imminent  by many top level officials at that time. Banks were failing and major companies where in terrible financial shape. Some people still claim that some of the larger Bitcoin transactions today are funding Black Ops worldwide. European authorities have also reported  that the Islamic State terrorist  cells   in Paris and Belgium  had used Bitcoin to fund operations before their despicable  attacks.

I had one mission at the Construct 2017 event in San Francisco. I had driven  in winter through the mountains  from Winnipeg to San Francisco   to ask Zooko Wilcox a question about ZCash mining. I intended to walk right up to Zooko and ask him  about Claymore’s new ZCash mining software. Zooko is a tall thin man, kind of a tough guy like Clint Eastwood or maybe an eccentric billionaire type  like Howard Hughes. He was really on his guard because he had recently stated  publicly that he feared for his safety and was rushing ahead with unbreakable encryption because he feared the government would try to stop him in any way they could. His logic was  once it was launched he would be safe. I watched how he inter-acted with the other big-name speakers, like Joseph Poon , and Vlad ,and others  who genuinely liked him.  He was obviously very popular and he had  decades of experience and achievements.

He was standing alone for the first time and I pounced. I stood right in front of him and I said “ Hello Zooko. I am Jeremiah a miner from Winnipeg and  I  have just one quick question about the Claymore ZCash miner if you can spare me a minute”. He smiled warily sizing me up and by that I mean he probably was thinking … “Is this fat bastard from the NSA?”.

I stood my ground  and held his eyes in a lock and waited. He smiled a little at my audacity and reached down and turned up my identity tag to this invite only event where press were expressly prohibited. CoinDesk took a post event survey and have announced that next years event will welcome the media. He read Double Eagle BTC and stared at me accusingly. “Yes I said I am a miner from Winnipeg and as you are the main guy for ZCash tell me if you think I should  trust Claymore”? He said “Mining, I don’t have anything to do with mining”. I said “Well, Claymore sells for forty dollars on a plug and play mini 16 GB SSD drive that auto mines ZCash but they take a minute and a half per hour and use your resources as they want. They might mine the same coin, or mine another coin”. My point was could they do something I did not want happening on my system during that time. IPFS or the Interplanetary Filing System has proven  that networks of idle computers can rent out their storage space. Zooko knew what I meant but either he really did not know much about mining or he was playing dumb to fit with his ‘Ceremony’ narrative ; which has bizarre cloak - and -dagger elements that I do not know enough about  to go into it in much depth, although he did go over it in some detail on stage. It involved his attempt to assure people that there had been no pre-mine of ZCash and that no one had a universal key. It involved six computers in different locations that all cut a DVD with one sixth   of the code.  Then the computers that had been previously stripped down  and their hard drives were destroyed. I think this example of the social trait of millennials in general and techies in particular demonstrates counterproductive  ways that the ‘no good man or woman’ mindset can impact beliefs and behaviour. Reputation played a role as Zooko  has a very good reputation, and his other participants lent their excellent reputations to the effort as well. Still Zooko said on stage that he felt that he could not just say trust me. My question is why couldn’t  Zooko just say trust me?

In any event as I write this about eight months later ZCash has a market capitalization of $566 million USD and is priced at $274.66. It looks like a real winner because several  of the best new Ethereum wallets such as  Jaxx  are using ZCash  for anonymity. My pool Slushpool has started mining ZCash and it seems  Claymore’s mining program was just fine but I have several other new ZCash mining programs available for free. Genesis mining now has ZCash mining contracts available, along with Ethereum, Monero, Dash, and Litecoin. I really made fantastic profits  on the X-11 Dash contracts that I bought from Genesis Mining  last year. We can take a deeper dive into comparative experiments that I have done to calculate the value of home mining versus cloud mining such as buying contracts with companies such as Genesis.

The Bitcoin blockchain forked on August 1, 2017. That means that if you had a tenth of a Bitcoin on July 31 you got a matching tenth of a  BCH BitcoinCash token.  You doubled your token count you now hold equal amounts of BTC Bitcoin and BCH BitcoinCash. The sudden unexpected decision that Bitcoin would   fork on August 1st must have been made in late May at the Consensus 2017 event in New York sponsored by Barry Silbert. He is America’s premier crypto currency entrepreneur.  He would be my pick and he would get the highest rating in my handicapping of the Bitcoin Billionaire’s Stake Race. He has over fifty  crypto currency related companies in fifteen  countries. I really feel like a small thinker when I watch the maneuvers of a big thinker like Barry Silbert, owner of the Digital Currency Group, Grayscale Investment Trust, and  CoinDesk magazine. I invested in his  new Bitcoin ETF derivative GBTC  units from Grayscale, and I did ok with them. They only deal with accredited investors with net worth of over one million dollars exclusive of residence or income of over two hundred thousand dollars a year for each of the past two years. Luckily for me the oil business was not yet completely dead  so I qualified on income.  The units are based on NAV net asset value rather than being a fraction of a bitcoin as many people mistakenly believed when the fund was launched. I balked and sold out after receiving an offer to invest two hundred and fifty thousand dollars at four o’clock PM that would be priced at NAV regardless of where the unit price had ended trading on close at 4 PM.  I could not see much difference between this overly attractive offer and the late- trading issues mutual funds  had seen many years ago.

I must admit  that I was wrong earlier when I was very critical of   Silbert when he started buying Ethereum Classic ETC tokens after the Ethereum fork. As Andreas Antonopoulos the best promoter of Bitcoin on earth whose opinion I value highly warned in a video I watched about the resurrection  of Ethereum Classic  ETC by Charles Hodkinson  after an unknown hacker in Russia using the handle Arvicco first revived the discarded pre-fork Ethereum blockchain. “When one is most absolutist in their position, that is often the time when one is most likely to be completely wrong” and time has shown that such was the case.    I attended the  Consensus 2017 conference with my pitch for Bitcoin mining in Manitoba,  but had no inkling about what was happening behind the scenes in the five floors of meeting rooms at the New York Marriot Marquis hotel located on Broadway in bustling  Times Square. A so called “New York  Agreement” was signed   by many big time Bitcoin companies and exchanges in some exclusive  back room negotiations. A week or two after the event it was  announced that an unstoppable fork would take place on August 1, 2017, as it later in fact did, just as predicted with the precision of a total solar eclipse.

The one-megabyte block size will remain the same with slight capacity improvements as part of Segregated Witness off chain features are added that save space. This is an improvement that Erik Lombrozo has been promoting for the Core team, and that Andreas Antonopoulos has recommended as a good BIP or Bitcoin Improvement Proposal. This will mean that fees will remain higher than they would be if the block size went to two- megabytes as many thought it was poised to do, or to an eight- megabyte size that many users had also been lobbying for during the past year.  Transactions may be slower because of the full blocks but the ten-minute block benchmark is adjusted by a mechanism called the ‘difficulty’ which adjusts every two weeks in Bitcoin and every four hundred blocks in the much faster fourteen- second Ethereum blockchain.  So far I have not seen problems with high fees or slow confirmations. People said yes, I want that free money and welcomed the new BCH received after the split. My company website  https://smartpropertyblockchain.ca  has  live prices for Bitcoin and Ethereum  posted on the home page from widgets provided by Cryptocompare.com .  Bitcoin is at $5,352.55 Canadian Dollars and BCH or BitcoinCash at $899.23 CAD. The Ethereum blockchain had seen a previous fork and stable trading patterns have evolved over the past year my website shows Ethereum priced at $418.03 CAD and ETC at $18.90. These forks are a little bit like stock splits but there is no guarantee that you can access the cloned token unless you have made arrangements. The combined price of BTC and BCH is greater than BTC was before the fork. Everybody won.

I know that I look like an old cop and I try not to freak people out. It did not matter that I looked like an old cop when I was in Fort Collins Colorado and I explored  the civic culture of recreational marijuana stores  so as to get an idea of what to expect at home now that Canada’s Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has legalized it.  I was also very interested in the Fort Collins Solar Clean Energy Collective. They had a great set up with local people buying unit shares. Their large array of collectors were not dual axis solar tracking as I would suggest  but it was up and running and was financially viable. I have found that many  programmers have a side interest in solar. That was the main thing  the two engineers  from Microsoft wanted to talk about in San Francisco.  Elon Musk has some new solar roof tiles  that are lighter, cheaper, more attractive, harder to break, and easier to install than ordinary roof tiles, and his whole package of a Tesla in the garage, with a Powerwall 2   battery for the house and solar panels or roof tiles intrigues young engineers . I find a lot of excitement about this at Bitcoin conferences by programmers. One of the best applications that I discovered  at Consensus 2017 was an idea that  Susan Furnell described:   a micro-token that is self generated and powered by  the  solar panel that it is monitoring , the token is then sold automatically  through smart contracts with utilities and exchanges. I have been  trying to design a  dual axis solar tracker program using a raspberry pi  mini-computer and Arduino controllers.  I am  going back for the third semester of computer programming at the University of Winnipeg next month.  I decided a long time ago that rather than to  first take code off of Github, I would put some good code on. I have nightmares of Trace Mayer shouting in my face “where is your code, show me your code, you will never make the team, you’re just not good enough”. Trace is rough on rookies but when he goes on Jeff Berwick’s Dollar Vigilante YouTube Channel   to debate Roger Ver. He does argue a good case and he is obviously a guy who would make any team.

Talking about the unknown origins of so much of this new technology the recent story of  ‘ Mimble Wimble’. Named from Harry Potter it is super encryption that suddenly appeared posted online. The ramifications of this new super encryption technology are being discussed but no one knows where it came from. It is really the next big thing and by the time I get this book up to that chapter hopefully it will be better understood.

One does not have to look at the latest mathematical encryption techniques to find the actual conceptual barrier that the over 55 crowd has the most difficulty understanding.  This new paradigm changes everything that we have grown up believing about business, proprietary assets, and value. I think that it all started in 1991  with Linus Torvalds who  released  the Linux operating  system for free, all he wanted to retain for himself  was control  of the name Linux. Torvalds probably  would not wish to be entered in the Billionaire sweepstakes. Judging  from how  he acted  in sharp contrast with Linux as  to what Bill Gates, who is most certainly a Billionaire, had done with Microsoft. Torvalds later set up GitHub which is a stack based open source code repository that has become the main gathering place for programmers.  Many companies do their development on GitHub. This means that everything is out in the open and nothing has a patent or trademark or needs a licence to be copied.  Elon Musk shocked investors when he bravely re-declared Tesla’s commitment to open source. From the size of the lithium battery that goes into the battery pack, to the weight of the Powerwall 2, everything is open for competitors to see, and that includes autonomous automobile navigation systems. Competitors could potentially save millions of dollars in development costs that Tesla had to spend to get the same information, or to get the design to that stage.  Satya Nadella the visionary CEO of Microsoft understands   and he has made Azure Microsoft’s big new  BaaS blockchain as a service and  data base management system open source. He has announced plans for Excel spreadsheets to have Bitcoin as an available currency, and of course Microsoft accepts Bitcoin on their website for any of their products. IBM is dabbling with open source by participating in the   hyper-ledger project but it is certainly not ready to sanction a change in policy yet.

Maybe I should give an example from my own business situation of how this plays out in the real world. I have smartpropertyblockchain.ca which is a new company in Canada that has a stated purpose of offering a blockchain alternative to the Torrens style paper- based government Land and Property Title Registries that the government or it’s surrogates run. What if your government was Venezuela, or Libya? Land fraud is common in many countries and it is hard to protect yourself from  the risk of it. One or two bribed clerks with a rubber stamp, or maybe a lawyer with some bogus or altered documents, and anyone could be in jeopardy of losing their property. There is a company in Austin Texas called Factom and by the looks of the smiling faces on their website it is a great place to work. The company has been very successful and has many major law enforcement agencies on it’s client roster including the Department of Homeland Security. Factom’s CEO Peter Kirby is quoted in CoinDesk as having said “We really believe that when you move all of the data in the world into the blockchain you can create a lot of transparency and value”.  Early investor Tim Draper is quoted in the same article saying “Centralized data is prone to critical failure by any individual mistake, whether by user error or malicious hacking. By decentralizing data through the blockchain, Factom avoids critical failures due to user error or hacker”.  Their code for Factom is open source and they state clearly that if it will help any new Startup they would be happy to share their code free of charge.

Factom is doing very well with big new contracts, and a token called Factoids that has tripled recently, or  as Jim Cramer from CNBC’s Mad Money investment show would say “en fuego”. My website shows the price of Factoids FCT in Canadian dollars as   $38.57. They all look like great people and I know what a great city Austin, Texas is as I have been through there a few times. How does it harm  them or in any way compete with them, for me, way up here, across the border in Winnipeg Canada,  to do  local property titles on a cloned blockchain?

Smartpropertyblockchain.ca may find some new technique for electronic appraisals because  automated real estate valuation modeling is one of our main features in development with working regression AVM models in hand. If in the future by  some twist of fate Factom could use our code for appraisals or perhaps our geomatics technology integrating drone surveys and digitized records on the blockchain, they would be welcome to it.

Blockchain forks and a new chain is born. That is the ethos of the new world.  People will attend a seminar and pay a few hundred dollars for the event. They will ask if the slides from the presentation are available on the web. It is understandable that the lecturer might feel that keeping the slides unavailable might be a good idea for job security. Not so, not in this new world. Many older managers will never get the concept and will be eased out of their positions and retired. I have a rule of thumb that I use  for my personal time management, and the older that you are the more important that time management becomes. I must devote a minimum of  four hours per week, or two full days out of every month devoted expressly to learning new things in technology and computer science so I can keep up with the progress around me in. It might be my newest smartphone or keeping my wireless printer mated to my desktop PCs Windows 10 after the latest update. Maybe it is my trucks Magellan GPS navigator, or our home satellite system or WIFI router.  Perhaps I am just taking an hour to take a look at Rust or Python.  Honestly, for me trying  to keep up with the times  is usually a challenging and often frustrating time out of my busy schedule. I can imagine that a lot of people just don’t bother and are tired of always having to relearn programs after they upgrade. A symptom that people should look out for is if they are getting   confused on their  city or government websites  because of their lack of computer skills; they should wake up and realize that they need some training. At a minimum, people should know all about using Windows 10 ,how to search the web using  google,  basic email security rules, and how to buy things or make reservations online, including how to make  payments with credit cards or PayPal online.

The idea that computer coding is for everybody is also quite a stretch in my opinion. Judging by the attrition rate among my classmates at the University of Winnipeg Applied Computer Sciences program.  I have observed that even really bright tech- savvy students find learning Java for example quite difficult.

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