fine, i'll give her a reload finisher myself

43 kisses, nettles and daemon

Be gone, she thinks. We’ve tarried too long already, be gone now, damn you.

She’s jumpy as a hare now. Every howl of the wind or rustle in the pines could be Aemond and Vhagar overhead. Nettles is far past the point of caring what happens to her, but the people of Maidenpool do not deserve to die by fire.

Nettles could tell you with confidence now that fire is the worst way to die. The blood of the black ram is still drying on her hands. Sheepstealer is sated and ready to fly, chafing at his chains.

No more after this. She will never chain him down again. Nothing good has ever come of keeping him chained in a pit like a monster, while she let herself be drawn into the high lords’ games and grudges.

I will not be chained, she thinks, as he approaches. Not again.

“I had hoped things would be different,” he says. In the pale morning might she sees his age. He is not an old man yet, but he is not a young one, either.

You are old enough to be my father twice over, she thinks. Did that ever trouble you, when I was in your bed? Does anything ever trouble you, but thoughts of war and revenge?

He strokes her chin with a gloved thumb.

“Different how?” she asks.

He shrugs with forced levity. “Sometimes we delude ourselves into believing we could begin again.”

Aye, she thinks. Out with the old and in with the new. Cast off your queen, who wants my head, who says I bewitched you between my brown legs, and take up the wharf rat, the thief, the bastard of Spicetown. And would you dress me up in yellow silks, like the Maiden of the Tree?

She is disgusted by how much a pathetic, desperate part of her wants that. Not the riches, not even the power. But for someone to just want to keep her close. Even her own mother could not do that much.

“Of course,” he says, “that was just a little boy’s fancy.”

You are not a little boy, she thinks, though you’ve killed plenty. Does it torment you at night? I don’t think it does. At your age, all the dead boys must blend together. What is one more on the morrow?

Ah well. Better a dead old rogue and a dead little boy than a dead Netty, aye? Let him and Aemond rip each other apart. Sheepstealer is waiting for her.

Yet she lingers, and then, before he can say any more, kisses him. He smiles against her mouth, as cocky as if this were just another triumph. Doubtless he expects he will come find her after this. Doubtless he expects she will crawl back to him for sanctuary.

But he was right. You can’t begin again.

Copied from Facebook; verified by a friend

From Joe Morice, daughters in 8th & 10th grade in Fairfax County Public Schools' Centreville Pyramid:

To our fellow FCPS families—this is it gang: 5 days until the 2 days in school vs. 100% virtual decision. Let’s talk it out, in my traditional mammoth TL/DR form.

Like all of you, I’ve seen my feed become a flood of anxiety and faux expertise. You’ll get no presumption of expertise here. This is how I am looking at and considering this issue and the positions people have taken in my feed and in the hundred or so FCPS discussion groups that have popped up. The lead comments in quotes are taken directly from my feed and those boards. Sometimes I try to rationalize them. Sometimes I’m just punching back at the void.

Full disclosure, we initially chose the 2 days option and are now having serious reservations. As I consider the positions and arguments I see in my feed, these are where my mind goes. Of note, when I started working on this piece at 12:19 PM today the COVID death tally in the United States stood at 133,420.

“My kids want to go back to school.”

I challenge that position. I believe what the kids desire is more abstract. I believe what they want is a return to normalcy. They want their idea of yesterday. And yesterday isn’t on the menu.

“I want my child in school so they can socialize.”

This was the principle reason for our 2 days decision. As I think more on it though, what do we think ‘social’ will look like? There aren’t going to be any lunch table groups, any lockers, any recess games, any study halls, any sitting next to friends, any talking to people in the hallway, any dances. All of that is off the menu. So, when we say that we want the kids to benefit from the social experience, what are we deluding ourselves into thinking in-building socialization will actually look like in the Fall?

“My kid is going to be left behind.”

Left behind who? The entire country is grappling with the same issue, leaving all children in the same quagmire. Who exactly would they be behind? I believe the rhetorical answer to that is “They’ll be behind where they should be,” to which I’ll counter that “where they should be” is a fictional goal post that we as a society have taken as gospel because it maps to standardized tests which are used to grade schools and counties as they chase funding.

“Classrooms are safe.”

At the current distancing guidelines from FCPS middle and high schools would have no more than 12 people (teachers + students) in a classroom (I acknowledge this number may change as FCPS considers the Commonwealth’s 3 ft with a mask vs. 6 ft position, noting that FCPS is all mask regardless of the distance). For the purpose of this discussion we’ll say classes run 45 minutes.

I posed the following question to 40 people today, representing professional and management roles in corporations, government agencies, and military commands: “Would your company or command have a 12 person, 45 minute meeting in a conference room?”

100% of them said no, they would not. These are some of their answers:

“No. Until further notice we are on Zoom.”

“(Our company) doesn’t allow us in (company space).”

“Oh hell no.”

“No absolutely not.”

“Is there a percentage lower than zero?”

“Something of that size would be virtual.”

We do not even consider putting our office employees into the same situation we are contemplating putting our children into. And let’s drive this point home: there are instances here when commanding officers will not put soldiers, ACTUAL SOLDIERS, into the kind of indoor environment we’re contemplating for our children. For me this is as close to a ‘kill shot’ argument as there is in this entire debate. How do we work from home because buildings with recycled air are not safe, because we don’t trust other people to not spread the virus, and then with the same breath send our children into buildings?

“Children only die .0016 of the time.”

First, conceding we’re an increasingly morally bankrupt society, but when did we start talking about children’s lives, or anyone’s lives, like this? This how the villain in movies talks about mortality, usually 10-15 minutes before the good guy kills him.

If you’re in this camp, and I acknowledge that many, many people are, I’m asking you to consider that number from a slightly different angle.

FCPS has 189,000 children. .0016 of that is 302. 302 dead children are the Calvary Hill you’re erecting your argument on. So, let’s agree to do this: stop presenting this as a data point. If this is your argument, I challenge you to have courage equal to your conviction. Go ahead, plant a flag on the internet and say, “Only 302 children will die.” No one will. That’s the kind action on social media that gets you fired from your job. And I trust our social media enclave isn’t so careless and irresponsible with life that it would even, for even a millisecond, enter any of your minds to make such an argument.

Considered another way: You’re presented with a bag with 189,000 $1 bills. You’re told that in the bag are 302 random bills, they look and feel just like all the others, but each one of those bills will kill you. Do you take the money out of the bag?

Same argument, applied to the 12,487 teachers in FCPS (per Wikipedia), using the ‘children’s multiplier’ of .0016 (all of us understanding the adult mortality rate is higher). That’s 20 teachers. That’s the number you’re talking about. It’s very easy to sit behind a keyboard and diminish and dismiss the risk you’re advocating other people assume. Take a breath and think about that.

If you want to advocate for 2 days a week, look, I’m looking for someone to convince me. But please, for the love of God, drop things like this from your argument. Because the people I know who’ve said things like this, I know they’re better people than this. They’re good people under incredible stress who let things slip out as their frustration boils over. So, please do the right thing and move on from this, because one potential outcome is that one day, you’re going to have to stand in front of St. Peter and answer for this, and that’s not going to be conversation you enjoy.

“Hardly any kids get COVID.”

(Deep sigh) Yes, that is statistically true as of this writing. But it is a cherry-picked argument because you’re leaving out an important piece.

One can reasonably argue that, due to the school closures in March, children have had the least EXPOSURE to COVID. In other words, closing schools was the one pandemic mitigation action we took that worked. There can be no discussion of the rate of diagnosis within children without also acknowledging they were among our fastest and most quarantined people. Put another way, you cannot cite the effect without acknowledging the cause.

“The flu kills more people every year.”

(Deep sigh). First of all, no, it doesn’t. Per the CDC, United States flu deaths average 20,000 annually. COVID, when I start writing here today, has killed 133,420 in six months.

And when you mention the flu, do you mean the disease that, if you’re suspected of having it, everyone, literally everyone in the country tells you stay the f- away from other people? You mean the one where parents are pretty sure their kids have it but send them to school anyway because they have a meeting that day, the one that every year causes massive f-ing outbreaks in schools because schools are petri dishes and it causes kids to miss weeks of school and leaves them out of sports and band for a month? That one? Because you’re right - the flu kills people every year. It does, but you’re ignoring the why. It’s because there are people who are a--holes who don’t care about infecting other people. In that regard it’s a perfect comparison to COVID.

“Almost everyone recovers.”

You’re confusing “release from the hospital” and “no longer infected” with “recovered.” I’m fortunate to only know two people who have had COVID. One my age and one my dad’s age. The one my age described it as “absolute hell” and although no longer infected cannot breathe right. The one my dad’s age was in the hospital for 13 weeks, had to have a trach ring put in because she could no longer be on a ventilator, and upon finally getting home and being faced with incalculable time in rehab told my mother, “I wish I had died.”

While I’m making every effort to reach objectivity, on this particular point, you don’t know what the f- you’re talking about.

“If people get sick, they get sick.”

First, you mistyped. What you intended to say was “If OTHER people get sick, they get sick.” And shame on you.

“I’m not going to live my life in fear.”

You already live your life in fear. For your health, your family’s health, your job, your retirement, terrorists, extremists, one political party or the other being in power, the new neighbors, an unexpected home repair, the next sunrise. What you meant to say was, “I’m not prepared to add ANOTHER fear,” and I’ve got news for you: that ship has sailed. It’s too late. There are two kinds of people, and only two: those that admit they’re afraid, and those that are lying to themselves about it.

As to the fear argument, fear is the reason you wait up when your kids stay out late, it’s the reason you tell your kids not to dive in the shallow water, to look both ways before crossing the road. Fear is the respect for the wide world that we teach our children. Except in this instance, for reasons no one has been able to explain to me yet.

“FCPS leadership sucks.”

I will summarize my view of the School Board thusly: if the 12 of you aren’t getting into a room together because it represents a risk, don’t tell me it’s OK for our kids. I understand your arguments, that we need the 2 days option for parents who can’t work from home, kids who don’t have internet or computer access, kids who needs meals from the school system, kids who need extra support to learn, and most tragically for kids who are at greater risk of abuse by being home. All very serious, all very real issues, all heartbreaking. No argument.

But you must first lead by example. Because you’re failing when it comes to optics. All your meetings are online. What our children see is all of you on a Zoom telling them it’s OK for them to be exactly where you aren’t. I understand you’re not PR people, but you really should think about hiring some.

“I talked it over with my kids.”

Let’s put aside for a moment the concept of adults effectively deferring this decision to children, the same children who will continue to stuff things into a full trash can rather than change it out. Yes, those hygienic children.

Listen, my 15 year old daughter wants a sport car, which she’s not getting next year because it would be dangerous to her and to others. Those kinds of decisions are our job. We step in and decide as parents, we don’t let them expose themselves to risks because their still developing and screen addicted brains narrow their understanding of cause and effect.

We as parents and adults serve to make difficult decisions. Sometimes those are in the form of lessons, where we try to steer kids towards the right answer and are willing to let them make a mistake in the hopes of teaching better decision making the next time around. This is not one of those moments. The stakes are too high for that. This is a “the adults are talking” moment. Kids are not mature enough for this moment. That is not an attack on your child. It is a broad statement about all children. It is true of your children and it was true when we were children. We need to be doing that thinking here, and “Johnny wants to see Bobby at school” cannot be the prevailing element in the equation.

“The teachers need to do their job.”

How is it that the same society which abruptly shifted to virtual students only three months ago, and offered glowing endorsements of teachers stating, “we finally understand how difficult your job is,” has now shifted to “screw you, do your job.” There are myriad problems with that position but for the purposes of this piece let’s simply go with, “You’re not looking for a teacher, you’re looking for the babysitter you feel your property tax payment entitles you to.”

“Teachers have a greater chance to being killed by a car than they do of dying from COVID.”

(Eye roll) Per the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS), the U.S. see approximately 36,000 auto fatalities a year. Again, there have been 133,420 COVID deaths in the United States through 12:09 July 10, 2020. So no, they do not have a great chance of being killed in a car accident.

And, if you want to take the actual environment into consideration, the odds of a teacher being killed in a car accident in their classroom, you know, the environment we’re actually talking about, that’s right around 0%.

“If the grocery store workers can be onsite what are the teachers afraid of?”

(Deep breath) A grocery store worker, who absolutely risks exposure, has either six feet of space or a plexiglass shield between them and individual adult customers who can grasp their own mortality whose transactions can be completed in moments, in a 40,000 SF space.

A teacher is with 11 ‘customers’ who have not an inkling what mortality is, for 45 minutes, in a 675 SF space, six times a day.

Just stop.

“Teachers are choosing remote because they don’t want to work.”

(Deep breaths) Many teachers are opting to be remote. That is not a vacation. They’re requesting to do their job at a safer site. Just like many, many people who work in buildings with recycled air have done. And likely the building you’re not going into has a newer and better serviced air system than our schools.

Of greater interest to me is the number of teachers choosing the 100% virtual option for their children. The people who spend the most time in the buildings are the same ones electing not to send their children into those buildings. That’s something I pay attention to.

“I wasn’t prepared to be a parent 24/7” and “I just need a break.”

I truly, deeply respect that honesty. Truth be told, both arguments have crossed my mind. Pre COVID, I routinely worked from home 1 – 2 days a week. The solace was nice. When I was in the office, I had an actual office, a room with a door I could close, where I could focus. During the quarantine that hasn’t always been the case. I’ve been frustrated, I’ve been short, I’ve gone to just take a drive and get the hell away for a moment and been disgusted when one of the kids sees me and asks me to come for a ride, robbing me of those minutes of silence. You want to hear silence. I get it. I really, really do.

Here’s another version of that, admittedly extreme. What if one of our kids becomes one of the 302? What’s that silence going to sound like? What if you have one of those matted frames where you add the kid’s school picture every year? What if you don’t get to finish the pictures?

“What does your gut tell you to do?”

Shawn and I have talked ad infinitum about all of these and other points. Two days ago, at mid-discussion I said, “Stop, right now, gut answer, what is it,” and we both said, “virtual.”

A lot of the arguments I hear people making for the 2 days sound like we’re trying to talk ourselves into ignoring our instincts, they are almost exclusively, “We’re doing 2 days, but…”. There’s a fantastic book by Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear, which I’ll minimize for you thusly: your gut instinct is a hardwired part of your brain and you should listen to it. In the introduction he talks about elevators, and how, of all living things, humans are the only ones that would voluntarily get into a soundproof steel box with a potential predator just so they could skip a flight of stairs.

I keep thinking that the 2 days option is the soundproof steel box. I welcome, damn, beg, anyone to convince me otherwise.

At the time I started writing at 12:09 PM, 133,420 Americans had died from COVID. Upon completing this draft at 7:04 PM, that number rose to 133,940.

520 Americans died of COVID while I was working on this. In seven hours.

The length of a school day.

RP Meme from "Chapter One: Caliah (Lore)" in the Bastet breedbook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse"

Once there was a cat who dreamed he was a man.

Like the morning mist, she appeared from nowhere, or so it seemed.

The winds have spoken of your dilemma and I have come to show you the way home.

Why do you call me brother?

We are family.

We have different parents but share the same blood.

You need to meet your people

You are my sister

I have no other family. Don’t leave me!

We all have family

What are the dreams of a cat?

Let us welcome each other and speak of hidden things.

If they come in peace, we welcome them.

I’m just a mutt.

Listen up and listen close, ‘cause this isn’t stuff you’ll hear from any old place.

I’ve got friends with friends, if y’know what I mean, and this is good stuff.

They don’t get along, y’know.

A good lorespeaker tells different stories every time, and she makes ‘em as cool as possible.

Sound like anyone we know? Nah! Couldn’t be!

So how do you trade secrets, anyway? After all, isn’t a secret shared a secret lost?

If you don’t play the game, you don’t learn a thing.

Each element of the message becomes a metaphor, and the message becomes a story.

Florid? Hell yeah! But ya gotta admit it’s more graceful — and exposes a hell of a lot less — than blurting out the truth.

You might say, “I heard a story about so-and-so” but you’d never say “I did so-and-so.” If your audience has a clue, they’ll catch on.

Everything’s told in metaphors.

A good obtuse metaphor makes you look imaginative if someone gets it, really stupid otherwise.

Everything is larger than life. People don’t just cry, they “explode in showers like the sea.” Folks don’t just get mad, they “turn into coals that burn through the floor.”

If what you’re saying is important, bigger is better.

Simple? Not if you don’t get the lingo.

A wounded cat can surrender without disgrace.

Not enough to go around.

Hey, don’t let on you know what I told you, huh?

It was a time before life, a longing when the dream of birth was yet to be.

This marked the end of peace and the beginning of struggle.

Such promises are soon broken.

Why does even the skin of my daughter flee from my hands?

Why must I always be alone?

Master, what would you have of us?

Nothing exists for him but annihilation.

Go across the world

Let that which is pure stand whole, but erode that which is impure from within.

He tells many tales, but all of them are lies. He is rage made manifest, and he coils within us all.

There was no want, no war, no anguish, and all living things gave of themselves to help others exist.

Until some cataclysm happened, everything lived in peace and plenty.

Life has ever been a struggle, my brothers and sisters. Life has always meant that some may die for others’ pleasure.

That pleasure may be as necessary as hunger or as frivolous as sport, but it has always been fatal and always will be.

Only through struggle can we progress.

Only through sacrifice can we succeed.

We were born from conflict and we grow through adversity. Our ancestors are predators, great cats and human hunters who rose above their surroundings and mastered them.

We know our place in the Great Order, and it is not passive.

Like the moon, our world waxes and wanes.

Each era glows brightly, then fades into night before rising again as some new age.

As creatures of light, dark and twilight all, we are not moved much by the vagaries of fortune.

Each tribe has its creation story, and they differ in many ways.

I have my own ideas.

We are a breed eternally apart, and we are rare.

Water runs silent, yet crushes with the power of an elephant.

Its depths hold secrets that only the brave can find.

The first of our kind were nearly the last.

Those it caught were devoured.

Let this be your legacy

My tears, shed for you, will boil in your veins.

All people will fear you, and all animals, too.

Begone and tend the flocks that need killing.

I banish you from sight!

They still live on in us, and we carry their curse to this day.

As the humans prospered, they grew quickly out of hand.

It was a bloody, useless time, and we fractured as a people.

Secrets became the only thing to bind us.

It’s hard to forgive these raging bastards.

Very territorial, and I know how that feels.

There are enough horrors in the night already.

Corruption has a million voices; sometimes they drown out the song of the moon and lead us over cliffs.

That song wails from nightclubs, boom boxes and televisions every day.

Stop up your ears, my friend and listen to the wind.

Those secrets led the wolves to our door — literally.

Gods damn the dogs for that!

Their misbegotten crusade killed hundreds of our Kind and Kin.

She mated with serpents, wolves and great cats in an effort to become like them, but gave birth to monsters instead.

Some legends portray her as one of our kind, but we know this isn’t so.

If the tales I’ve heard are any measure, they have no pity for us at all.

We are where we are born.

I think our unique insights show us that humanity is a mixed blessing — especially where the earth and the wild are concerned.

Men are the cleverest monkeys, no doubt, but they don’t have much sense of self-preservation.

Our forebears fought to let humanity prosper.

We have an amazing world at our fingertips, but it’s filled with poisons and lies.

Honor seems to be a fading dream in lands where the rich starve their people and the poor kill each other.

We hold magic within ourselves, within our hearts and minds and spirits. To dishonor ourselves is to disperse that magic and scatter our souls.

It’s acceptable to lie to other creatures; they’re not of our blood and not bound by our laws.

We will flee to survive a fight, but will not run when others depend on our strength.

We must make restitution to those we deceive, in deeds, trade or money.

We may be exiled or branded.

Our weapons are many — secrets, claws, teeth and allies — and we will not hesitate to employ them for our world’s

survival.

Our people have walked too close to extinction for us to take such matters lightly.

We will not ally ourselves with shadow powers or drink corrupted wisdom.

We do not fail our Earth and mother. That path leads to death.

We are the keepers of secrets, and our fates depend on silence.

Each of us bears the hidden doom of our own people, and we know the cost of betraying that trust.

We also know that we have what others want — or what they think they want — and it amuses us to make them squirm.

Our knowledge is our concern.

We will not share it unless we wish to.

We will hide ourselves from outsiders; they will think they know us, but we will delude them.

We will wrap our lore in riddles and tales; let the clever ones puzzle out their meaning.

We will act as if we know even more than we do, for it keeps outsiders guessing.

Let them wonder at our insight; they value us more highly when they do.

We will cover our tracks with misdirection, pretend to be other than what we are, fill the air with idle rumors and hide messages in code.

There is no forgiveness for this crime.

Well, let’s just say I know what I’ve seen. And I’ve seen a lot.

His eyes were so filled with pain that I decided to help out.

I’d swear he was grinning as the semi ran him down.

That felt good.

Guess they’ve gotta live here, too.

I say they’re not as smart as they might think.

Maybe I’m the one who’s being fooled.

I could tell you stories all night, all week, all month and more.

As the temples rose and the hordes crossed through, our parents sat on the sidelines of history and observed the passing of kings.

The cultures we witnessed shaped our own ways.

Cities rose, each with secrets too tempting to ignore.

For a long time — 4,000 years — there was all the room in the world for us, and no lack of secrets to keep us entertained.

We should have seen the signs in the Classical Age, when armies swept across the land in the names of gods, kings and conquerors.

We should have met en masse when trade and crusades brought East and West together.

I will not belabor the point. We know what happened.

Explorers, slavers and great white hunters bounded into the wilderness and cast a chain around our kind.

Suddenly, we went from having all space to having little.

I can’t say I don’t share the sentiment just a bit.

We didn’t stop until a greater evil forced us to align, but that’s another story.

It’s a wonder anyone survived.

We studied their secrets, but could learn nothing from them.

We have no one to blame but ourselves.

For all our vaunted sight, we’re blind. For all our gathered lore, we’re stupid.

The world is falling apart.

I don’t know whether to believe it or not, but we are living in interesting times!

We must pool our secrets, combine our efforts, and bring the world’s secrets to light.

We must act on what we discover and disperse what we learn.

Do I lose my cool?

The modern age is the greatest puzzle we could want endless streams of secrets, enigmas, wonders and dazzles, wrapped up in an explosive package that could blow us all to hell.

Anywhere, at any time, the whole ride could fly off the rails.

Those who ignore the warning feed the vultures the next morning.

I’ll simply say the tigers are not where you’d expect.

People have begun to open their eyes, but they still need your counsel to see the cliff’s edge before falling off

Those stories are true — violently true — and they add up to an appalling picture if you string them all together.

They get an idea, work on it a bit, and try to rule the world. Typical. We’ve seen their kind before.

Look around you if you doubt it.

Surely the secrets you’ve uncovered have given you the idea that maybe, just maybe, something’s going on, something bigger than another plunder, another invasion, another city that falls to ruin in a century.

Discover what you can, but bury your tracks well.

We’re strangers to each other for most of our lives, and we like it that way — a few careful gatherings are all we

can stand.

The moon is our patron, but the shadows are our father too, and they call to us at our weaker moments.

Most of us dance on the edge, though, and that’s where we like to be!

Despite our pains, we’re spirited and wild, inquisitive yet careful, sensual yet refined.

Our beauty is our greatest pride, and our wits are second to none.

We know what we are.

To hell with them all!

Still, we cannot let pride blind us to the facts.

The morning it foretells is up to us.

We must come together, yet retain our pride.

We are the keepers of secrets.

Perhaps it’s time those secrets were revealed.

Male!Villain x Reader || Playlist Fanfic

Title: Twisted Intimacy 

Duration: 65 mins. | | These songs are all availably on Spotify. |

What is this? : I’m telling a fanfiction through songs! This way, we can really put ourselves in the story without all my blabber and feel things that only music can convey. I hope its easy to follow, and you like it! ^^ I hope to make a female villain one and one with a masculine reader voice at some point, too. 

Plot:  This is a very basic Villain x Reader story where the reader tries to move on from villain and be with a good person, but of course the heart wants what the heart wants and if the heart wants the sexy bad guy there isn't much you can do to stop it! ... right? 

Thank You | Amy Diamond |: You were in a relationship with Villain, but you’ve finally gathered the courage to leave him and that is exactly what you’re doing. You think you wont miss him. 

~ I'm out, I'm closing a chapter

~ Thank you for all that you've done for me Now I know what real love is supposed to be Can't waste my time, so goodbye my baby, baby, baby Thank you

You'll Be Back | Jonathon Groff, Hamilton |: Villain is far more aware of his feelings for you, then you are of your feelings for him, and is deluded into thinking that you'll come right back to him.

~ You'll be back, soon you'll see You'll remember you belong to me You'll be back, time will tell You'll remember that I served you well

~ You say our love is draining and you can't go on You'll be the one complaining when I am gone And no, don't change the subject 'Cause you're my favourite subject My sweet, submissive subject

She's Got A Boyfriend Now | Boys Like Girls |: Our Villain is taken on an ego crushing trip to the ground when he realises you really have found someone new. Someone good, who you like. Who you got together with and dated normally, instead of the cat and mouse game that Villain played with you. 

~ Wish that I could turn this car around But she's got a boyfriend now

~ Maybe I thought I could sneak in And sweep her off her feet and go right back to Boston Thinking everything's goin' be alright

~ But she’s got a boyfriend now 

Boyfriend | Lou Bega |: Villain doesn’t like your boyfriend at all! No, no.

~ I love everything about you girl Don't you understand? I love you from head to toe, girl But I hate your boyfriend

~  He's a fake, ain't no man Not even able to count to ten

~  So come on girl, choose your joy: You can pick me or your little boy

SOS | Rihanna |: You reflect on your physical, sort of more animalistic need for Villain (Especially in regards to comparing him to your new guy)

~ S.O.S., please someone help me It's not healthy for me to feel this Y.O.U. are making this hard I can't take it, see it don't feel right

~  This time, please someone come and rescue me 'Cause you on my mind, it's got me losing it I'm lost, you got me lookin' for the rest of me Love is testing me, but still I'm losing it

According To You | Orianthi |: You start to realise that all the things that your New Guy doesn’t like about you, the Villain loved. Loves, in fact. Present tense. You wonder whether that’s okay. You get upset. You take a break from new guy.

~  According to you I'm difficult Hard to please Forever changing my mind I'm a mess in a dress ~ But according to him I'm beautiful Incredible He can't get me out of his head 

Fuck Away The Pain | Divide The Day |: Aha... ya’ll know what this mean...  

~ Fuck away the pain, erase him from your brain Fake it like you love me, Come on baby touch me 

Right Kind Of Wrong | LeAnn Rimes |: It’s not only physical now. You know you've fallen again for Villain, but you know, you shouldn't.

~ Say my name and I can't fight it anymore Oh I know, I should go

~  Loving you isn't really something I should do Shouldn't wanna spend my time with you That I should try to be strong But baby you're the right kind of wrong

I Didn't Just Kiss Her | Jen Foster |: Villain is having a bad time, now. It wasn’t just a kiss, it wasn’t even just a night. Not for him, and he knows not for you either. It was more than that. But you're going back to your new guy, now. You're denying it was any more then a night of weakness, and it hurts him. He wants to hurt you, back, and that want manifests itself into vulgarity and honesty. 

~ She likes to think she didn't invite it But these scratches aren't because she tried to fight it

~  I don't know what the problem is Why she gotta try so hard to keep it all a secret

~ She's gonna go back to her boyfriend now Before the questions come up She's gonna tell 'em I'm stalking her round the clock Like I'm making the story up

Love The Way You Lie | Eminem, Rihanna |: You and Villain fight, because he knows how you feel it too and you know how you feel it, but you're still trying to run away. You’ve always indulged in mutually toxic fights, its the reason you left, and it’s awful. But the connection between the two of you is undeniable.

~ Now I know we said things, did things That we didn't mean and we fall back into the same patterns Same routine, but your temper's just as bad, as mine is You're the same as me, when it comes to love, you're just as blinded Baby please come back, it wasn't you Baby it was me, maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems Maybe that's what happens When a tornado meets a volcano All I know is I love you too much, to walk away now

The Way I Loved You | Taylor Swift |: Just after the fight you’re on your own again. You’ve cooled down, and you think more about the differences between your love for Villain, and your love for the New Guy.

~ He respects my space and never makes me wait And he calls exactly when he says he will He's close to my mother Talks business with my father He's charming and endearing, and I'm comfortable

~ But I miss screamin' and fightin' And kissin' in the rain And it's two a.m. and I'm cursin' your name You're so in love that you act insane And that's the way I loved you

History | Olivia Holt |: You're ready to break up properly, for good, with your new guy. Because you aren’t ready for a relationship like he wants. He's lovely, and despite your differences, he's good. But it’s clear you haven’t moved on from Villain and they're still there. Hanging over your heart like a raincloud and it’s not fair to new guy for you to stay with him.

~ Sorry, I don't really see this workin' out It's nothin' you did I just can't do this right now

~ Baby, you're so perfect But he's the perfect one for me I know that you're worth it But somethin' 'bout him gets to me Gets to me, all I need Plus, we got history

I Am Always Gonna Love You | Jon McLaughlin |: This is your new guy apologising to you, asking for your forgiveness, and asking for you back. Saying he loves you, he really does. And he asks you to marry him. You say yes. (There is a sort of sad tone to it, because he knows you love Villain as well- he just wants you to know how well he would treat you, if you let him, in comparison to how Villain would and has.)

~ I'm going to love you til my dying day I'll be beside you when you're old and grey Just like the feelings that I feel right now I'm never going to go away

~  From the picture perfect moments That I never want to end To the couch and tv kind of afternoons You're a light that's always shining And there's a million reasons why I know that I am always going to love you

Marry Me (Guy) | Thomas Rhett |: Villain at your wedding. Tense on the ‘Ain’t gonna marry me’ and not ‘Don’t wanna marry me’. Because he knows you want him, you just aren't going to. 

~ So I'm in my black suit, black tie, hiding out in the back Doing a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask I'll try to make it through without crying so nobody sees Yeah, she gonna get married But she ain't gonna marry me

Marry Me (Girl) | Elle Mears |: You at your wedding. 

~ I’ve got on my dress now, welcoming the guests now I could try to find him, get it off my chest now  ~ He’s the one I wanna marry But he don’t wanna marry me  

So Close | Jon McLaughlin |: You share a dance with Villain at your wedding, and theirs a drowning amount of pining for each other. Gentle, happy tones as well though because you're happy with each other.

~ You're in my arms And all the world is calm

~ A life goes by Romantic dreams must die So I bid my goodbye

~  So close to reaching That famous happy end Almost believing This one's not pretend And now you're beside me And look how far we've come So far we are, so close

Bleeding Love | Leona Lewis |: Something has snapped. You're suddenly ready to be with Villain. You don’t want to marry your new guy- you want Villain. So, you leave the wedding with him, and you know people will think you're insane and maybe you are but all you know is that the way they make you feel? It’s a good kind of pain. 

~ But nothings greater, than the rush that comes with your embrace And in this world of loneliness, I see your face Yet everyone around me, thinks that I'm going crazy, maybe, maybe

~ But I don't care what they say I'm in love with you They try to pull me away, but they don't know the truth My heart's crippled by the vein, that I keep on closing You cut me open and I  

Chains | Tina Arena |: Ending song. 

~ I'm in chains I pretend I can always leave Free to go whenever I please But then the sound of my desperate calls Echo off these dungeon walls I've crossed the line from mad to sane A thousand times and back again I love you baby

Single Mothers Will Probably Cry During Every Episode Of Queen’s Gambit - Episode 6

“Men are gonna come along and wanna teach you things” predicts Alice at the beginning of Episode 6. “Doesn’t make them any smarter” she continues. “In most ways, they’re not. But it makes them feel bigger. They can show you how things are done. You just let them blow by and you go on ahead and do what the hell you feel like”.

 Little Beth listens carefully. 

“It takes a strong woman to stay by herself in a world where people will settle for anything just to say they have something.”

As she finishes her sentence, the camera zooms out and we see her finishing the embroidery of Beth’s name onto the dress. Beth smiles, and her mother says “There we are”. She’s almost finished her project.

Episode 6 : Learn From Straight White Men

To survive under capitalism, it is necessary to learn from those who created it, ie Straight White men. Many feminists might want to avoid capitalism all together, and avoid the mentorship of White men, which they don’t find useful. But Beth’s mother understands that to truly extract oneself from the oppresive system she is in, Beth first needs to navigate that system. 

In the first part of the episode, we see Beth ride with Benny to New York. He seems good for her. He doesn’t let her drink. He improves her chess. He introduces her to his friends. 

A bunch of people don’t know this, but New York’s original name was New Amsterdam and it was founded by the Dutch. 

The city, like Mexico, is symbolically chosen in the mini-series, as it is the epicenter of modern day capitalistic activities.

The Netherlands was a poor nation swamp up until the 1600s, when the Dutch figured out that they could trade goods, ensure the boats that transported the goods they traded and then eventually created the stock market. To this day, Amsterdam remains the international capital of financial technology. Every year, hundreds of higly skills migrants from countries like India, Turkey, China or Greece come to Amsterdam to develop faster robots to trade at higher rates for trust funds and billionaires.

Trading changed the Netherlands forever. It launched what some history books still call the “Golden age” which is now being deconstructed as a racist era, where the Dutch played a key role in organizing the trans-atlantic slave trade. 

Even though modern day Dutch society likes to downplay the role the Netherlands played in the slave trade, it is proven that the Netherlands became immensely rich thanks to the slave trade. They were experts in importing the coffee and sugar that was grown by the slaves and trading it inside of Europe.

New York, is the projection of the Dutch dream in the West. It is the home of Wall Street, where we find the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE) as well as the National Association of Securities Dealers Automated Quotations (NASDAQ), which is the same as the stock exchange only this time we let the robots to the high frequency automatic trading for us (yup).

In 1904-1905, right when Einstein was discovering the photoelectric effect in Germany, a man called Max Weber coined the phrase “the protestant work ethic”.

According to the theory of the “The protestant work ethic”, it is believed that there is something in protestant culture that encourages protestant communities to work very hard. As a result, a great deal of “ excess” is produced, and these goods can then be traded. According to this theory, the inventors of capitalism were just very hard working people, who accidentally made too much of something, and started selling it in a very organized way (the stock market). Then they became rich.

Martin Luther King disagrees:

“We have deluded ourselves into believing the myth that capitalism grew and prospered out of the Protestant ethic of hard work and sacrifice. The fact is that capitalism was built on the exploitation and suffering of black slaves and continues to thrive on the exploitation of the poor — both black and white, here and abroad.”

As the car pulls up in Benny’s street, and looking at these ever so simple Brownstone houses, I am reminded of the myths that protestants like to perpetuate about themselves. “We work so hard!” “We’re such simple people” “We eat stew” “My grandfather used to raise pigs”.

The never ending lies that protestants propagate about their work ethic serves an important purpose in White Supremacy. It tries to convince us that the wealth isn’t unequally distributed. That the privileges that the ruling class have are deserved, rather than stolen.

Benny is the ambassador of these White Men. He lives ever so simply. He offers Beth a mattress to sleep on the floor. He lives in a basement. There is no decoration on the walls. There are only the prizes he’s won at his competitions and tournaments, and some magazine covers. Again, the underlying subtext here is that Benny works hard, lives frugally, and deserves all of the awards he’s won.

Instead of resenting Benny, Beth accepts to learn from him, just like her mother told her to. She looks around his house, but doesn’t say a word, doesn’t judge. She’s here for a purpose, she’s here to take everything that he has in his head, and bring it with her to Paris to win against the Soviets.

She seems dissociated from the situation most of the time. The only time we see her getting a bit excited is when she meets the French model. Again, it’s the high fashion that seems to attract her, as if it’s a sign, an indication of something grander and more appropriate, something that she needs to follow. 

An adjournement in Chess, which is also the name of the episode, is when a player secretely puts his move into a sealed enveloppe after 5/6 hours of game. The players resume their play the following day. 

Towards the middle of the episode we find Beth right where we met her: in Paris. She plays her matches and makes it to the final with Borgov. Unfortunately, on the day before the final, she meets the French model from Benny’s, drinks and is so hangovered the next day she makes a fool of herself. Not even the two tranquilizers she takes before coming down from her hotel room can help her.

Losing to Borgov in Paris destroys Beth. She goes back to Kentucky and drinks her life away. By the end of the episode she looks sick. 

She’s probably discouraged because she’s gotten to the end of her mother’s advice for this episode. She followed the White Man, and all of his advice. She met him in the capital of capitalism, learned everything that was in his head. She even met his friends. She copied his cool. She became him. When she meets the french model in the hotel, they are themselves being the men they seek. They smoke, they drink pastis, they casually talk about fucking.

It’s also worth noting that by losing to Borgov, Beth isn’t failing Benny. He never won against Borgov either. Her presence at these tournaments is already the best that he’s ever achieved for himself. This is also why Benny’s teachings alone won’t get her past Paris, beyond the iron curtain, to Moscow and beyond. He’s never been where she needs to go, where her mother wants her to be. How can he take her there?

A single mother will tell her children to learn from the White Man, but she isn’t telling them to be the White Man. The White Man is probably the reason why she’s single in the first place, why she’s alone. The single mother tells her children to learn the White Man’s way to survive in his world first and then to unbuild it.

Single mothers are often poor, so they understand capitalism very well.  They understand that often times money does buy happiness. It gives you security. Strength even. And joy. Beth can’t extract herself from Kentucky, the deep south, segregation and the feminine mystique if she doesn’t have cash.

After she comes back from Paris, Beth finds Mr Wheatley is looking for her. He needs money and wants the house back. She buys his share from him and calls him pathetic. it’s another sign that she’s outgrown the men she used to learn from.

Now there is nothing else but the void, the emptiness beyond her, and she doesn’t know where else to go. It can be overwhelming and Beth copes with alcohol. Who could judge her?

Very long, VERY with the read -

Copied:

--

"I have been purposely been absent from the online conversation about opening schools because I was keeping my head in the sand for as long as I could. But the words below from a Fairfax parent, Joe Morice, could not express any more clearly why we should be fully virtual in the Fall. It’s a long read but well worth it.

——-

To our fellow FCPS families, this is it gang, 5 days until the 2 days in school vs. 100% virtual decision. Let’s talk it out, in my traditional mammoth TL/DR form.

Like all of you, I’ve seen my feed become a flood of anxiety and faux expertise. You’ll get no presumption of expertise here. This is how I am looking at and considering this issue and the positions people have taken in my feed and in the hundred or so FCPS discussion groups that have popped up. The lead comments in quotes are taken directly from my feed and those boards. Sometimes I try to rationalize them. Sometimes I’m just punching back at the void.

Full disclosure, we initially chose the 2 days option and are now having serious reservations. As I consider the positions and arguments I see in my feed, these are where my mind goes. Of note, when I started working on this piece at 12:19 PM today the COVID death tally in the United States stood at 133,420.

“My kids want to go back to school.”

I challenge that position. I believe what the kids desire is more abstract. I believe what they want is a return to normalcy. They want their idea of yesterday. And yesterday isn’t on the menu.

“I want my child in school so they can socialize.”

This was the principle reason for our 2 days decision. As I think more on it though, what do we think ‘social’ will look like? There aren’t going to be any lunch table groups, any lockers, any recess games, any study halls, any sitting next to friends, any talking to people in the hallway, any dances. All of that is off the menu. So, when we say that we want the kids to benefit from the social experience, what are we deluding ourselves into thinking in-building socialization will actually look like in the Fall?

“My kid is going to be left behind.”

Left behind who? The entire country is grappling with the same issue, leaving all children in the same quagmire. Who exactly would they be behind? I believe the rhetorical answer to that is “They’ll be behind where they should be,” to which I’ll counter that “where they should be” is a fictional goal post that we as a society have taken as gospel because it maps to standardized tests which are used to grade schools and counties as they chase funding.

“Classrooms are safe.”

At the current distancing guidelines from FCPS middle and high schools would have no more than 12 people (teachers + students) in a classroom (I acknowledge this number may change as FCPS considers the Commonwealth’s 3 ft with a mask vs. 6 ft position, noting that FCPS is all mask regardless of the distance). For the purpose of this discussion we’ll say classes run 45 minutes.

I posed the following question to 40 people today, representing professional and management roles in corporations, government agencies, and military commands: “Would your company or command have a 12 person, 45 minute meeting in a conference room?”

100% of them said no, they would not. These are some of their answers:

“No. Until further notice we are on Zoom.”

“(Our company) doesn’t allow us in (company space).”

“Oh hell no.”

“No absolutely not.”

“Is there a percentage lower than zero?”

“Something of that size would be virtual.”

We do not even consider putting our office employees into the same situation we are contemplating putting our children into. And let’s drive this point home: there are instances here when commanding officers will not put soldiers, ACTUAL SOLDIERS, into the kind of indoor environment we’re contemplating for our children. For me this is as close to a ‘kill shot’ argument as there is in this entire debate. How do we work from home because buildings with recycled air are not safe, because we don’t trust other people to not spread the virus, and then with the same breath send our children into buildings?

“Children only die .0016 of the time.”

First, conceding we’re an increasingly morally bankrupt society, but when did we start talking about children’s lives, or anyone’s lives, like this? This how the villain in movies talks about mortality, usually 10-15 minutes before the good guy kills him.

If you’re in this camp, and I acknowledge that many, many people are, I’m asking you to consider that number from a slightly different angle.

FCPS has 189,000 children. .0016 of that is 302. 302 dead children are the Calvary Hill you’re erecting your argument on. So, let’s agree to do this: stop presenting this as a data point. If this is your argument, I challenge you to have courage equal to your conviction. Go ahead, plant a flag on the internet and say, “Only 302 children will die.” No one will. That’s the kind action on social media that gets you fired from your job. And I trust our social media enclave isn’t so careless and irresponsible with life that it would even, for even a millisecond, enter any of your minds to make such an argument.

Considered another way: You’re presented with a bag with 189,000 $1 bills. You’re told that in the bag are 302 random bills, they look and feel just like all the others, but each one of those bills will kill you. Do you take the money out of the bag?

Same argument, applied to the 12,487 teachers in FCPS (per Wikipedia), using the ‘children’s multiplier’ of .0016 (all of us understanding the adult mortality rate is higher). That’s 20 teachers. That’s the number you’re talking about. It’s very easy to sit behind a keyboard and diminish and dismiss the risk you’re advocating other people assume. Take a breath and think about that.

If you want to advocate for 2 days a week, look, I’m looking for someone to convince me. But please, for the love of God, drop things like this from your argument. Because the people I know who’ve said things like this, I know they’re better people than this. They’re good people under incredible stress who let things slip out as their frustration boils over. So, please do the right thing and move on from this, because one potential outcome is that one day, you’re going to have to stand in front of St. Peter and answer for this, and that’s not going to be conversation you enjoy.

“Hardly any kids get COVID.”

(Deep sigh) Yes, that is statistically true as of this writing. But it is a cherry-picked argument because you’re leaving out an important piece.

One can reasonably argue that, due to the school closures in March, children have had the least EXPOSURE to COVID. In other words, closing schools was the one pandemic mitigation action we took that worked. There can be no discussion of the rate of diagnosis within children without also acknowledging they were among our fastest and most quarantined people. Put another way, you cannot cite the effect without acknowledging the cause.

“The flu kills more people every year.”

(Deep sigh). First of all, no, it doesn’t. Per the CDC, United States flu deaths average 20,000 annually. COVID, when I start writing here today, has killed 133,420 in six months.

And when you mention the flu, do you mean the disease that, if you’re suspected of having it, everyone, literally everyone in the country tells you stay the f- away from other people? You mean the one where parents are pretty sure their kids have it but send them to school anyway because they have a meeting that day, the one that every year causes massive f-ing outbreaks in schools because schools are petri dishes and it causes kids to miss weeks of school and leaves them out of sports and band for a month? That one? Because you’re right - the flu kills people every year. It does, but you’re ignoring the why. It’s because there are people who are a--holes who don’t care about infecting other people. In that regard it’s a perfect comparison to COVID.

“Almost everyone recovers.”

You’re confusing “release from the hospital” and “no longer infected” with “recovered.” I’m fortunate to only know two people who have had COVID. One my age and one my dad’s age. The one my age described it as “absolute hell” and although no longer infected cannot breathe right. The one my dad’s age was in the hospital for 13 weeks, had to have a trach ring put in because she could no longer be on a ventilator, and upon finally getting home and being faced with incalculable time in rehab told my mother, “I wish I had died.”

While I’m making every effort to reach objectivity, on this particular point, you don’t know what the f- you’re talking about.

“If people get sick, they get sick.”

First, you mistyped. What you intended to say was “If OTHER people get sick, they get sick.” And shame on you.

“I’m not going to live my life in fear.”

You already live your life in fear. For your health, your family’s health, your job, your retirement, terrorists, extremists, one political party or the other being in power, the new neighbors, an unexpected home repair, the next sunrise. What you meant to say was, “I’m not prepared to add ANOTHER fear,” and I’ve got news for you: that ship has sailed. It’s too late. There are two kinds of people, and only two: those that admit they’re afraid, and those that are lying to themselves about it.

As to the fear argument, fear is the reason you wait up when your kids stay out late, it’s the reason you tell your kids not to dive in the shallow water, to look both ways before crossing the road. Fear is the respect for the wide world that we teach our children. Except in this instance, for reasons no one has been able to explain to me yet.

“FCPS leadership sucks.”

I will summarize my view of the School Board thusly: if the 12 of you aren’t getting into a room together because it represents a risk, don’t tell me it’s OK for our kids. I understand your arguments, that we need the 2 days option for parents who can’t work from home, kids who don’t have internet or computer access, kids who needs meals from the school system, kids who need extra support to learn, and most tragically for kids who are at greater risk of abuse by being home. All very serious, all very real issues, all heartbreaking. No argument.

But you must first lead by example. Because you’re failing when it comes to optics. All your meetings are online. What our children see is all of you on a Zoom telling them it’s OK for them to be exactly where you aren’t. I understand you’re not PR people, but you really should think about hiring some.

“I talked it over with my kids.”

Let’s put aside for a moment the concept of adults effectively deferring this decision to children, the same children who will continue to stuff things into a full trash can rather than change it out. Yes, those hygienic children.

Listen, my 15 year old daughter wants a sport car, which she’s not getting next year because it would be dangerous to her and to others. Those kinds of decisions are our job. We step in and decide as parents, we don’t let them expose themselves to risks because their still developing and screen addicted brains narrow their understanding of cause and effect.

We as parents and adults serve to make difficult decisions. Sometimes those are in the form of lessons, where we try to steer kids towards the right answer and are willing to let them make a mistake in the hopes of teaching better decision making the next time around. This is not one of those moments. The stakes are too high for that. This is a “the adults are talking” moment. Kids are not mature enough for this moment. That is not an attack on your child. It is a broad statement about all children. It is true of your children and it was true when we were children. We need to be doing that thinking here, and “Johnny wants to see Bobby at school” cannot be the prevailing element in the equation.

“The teachers need to do their job.”

How is it that the same society which abruptly shifted to virtual students only three months ago, and offered glowing endorsements of teachers stating, “we finally understand how difficult your job is,” has now shifted to “screw you, do your job.” There are myriad problems with that position but for the purposes of this piece let’s simply go with, “You’re not looking for a teacher, you’re looking for the babysitter you feel your property tax payment entitles you to.”

“Teachers have a greater chance to being killed by a car than they do of dying from COVID.”

(Eye roll) Per the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS), the U.S. see approximately 36,000 auto fatalities a year. Again, there have been 133,420 COVID deaths in the United States through 12:09 July 10, 2020. So no, they do not have a great chance of being killed in a car accident.

And, if you want to take the actual environment into consideration, the odds of a teacher being killed in a car accident in their classroom, you know, the environment we’re actually talking about, that’s right around 0%.

“If the grocery store workers can be onsite what are the teachers afraid of?”

(Deep breath) A grocery store worker, who absolutely risks exposure, has either six feet of space or a plexiglass shield between them and individual adult customers who can grasp their own mortality whose transactions can be completed in moments, in a 40,000 SF space.

A teacher is with 11 ‘customers’ who have not an inkling what mortality is, for 45 minutes, in a 675 SF space, six times a day.

Just stop.

“Teachers are choosing remote because they don’t want to work.”

(Deep breaths) Many teachers are opting to be remote. That is not a vacation. They’re requesting to do their job at a safer site. Just like many, many people who work in buildings with recycled air have done. And likely the building you’re not going into has a newer and better serviced air system than our schools.

Of greater interest to me is the number of teachers choosing the 100% virtual option for their children. The people who spend the most time in the buildings are the same ones electing not to send their children into those buildings. That’s something I pay attention to.

“I wasn’t prepared to be a parent 24/7” and “I just need a break.”

I truly, deeply respect that honesty. Truth be told, both arguments have crossed my mind. Pre COVID, I routinely worked from home 1 – 2 days a week. The solace was nice. When I was in the office, I had an actual office, a room with a door I could close, where I could focus. During the quarantine that hasn’t always been the case. I’ve been frustrated, I’ve been short, I’ve gone to just take a drive and get the hell away for a moment and been disgusted when one of the kids sees me and asks me to come for a ride, robbing me of those minutes of silence. You want to hear silence. I get it. I really, really do.

Here’s another version of that, admittedly extreme. What if one of our kids becomes one of the 302? What’s that silence going to sound like? What if you have one of those matted frames where you add the kid’s school picture every year? What if you don’t get to finish the pictures?

“What does your gut tell you to do?”

Shawn and I have talked ad infinitum about all of these and other points. Two days ago, at mid-discussion I said, “Stop, right now, gut answer, what is it,” and we both said, “virtual.”

A lot of the arguments I hear people making for the 2 days sound like we’re trying to talk ourselves into ignoring our instincts, they are almost exclusively, “We’re doing 2 days, but…”. There’s a fantastic book by Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear, which I’ll minimize for you thusly: your gut instinct is a hardwired part of your brain and you should listen to it. In the introduction he talks about elevators, and how, of all living things, humans are the only ones that would voluntarily get into a soundproof steel box with a potential predator just so they could skip a flight of stairs.

I keep thinking that the 2 days option is the soundproof steel box. I welcome, damn, beg, anyone to convince me otherwise.

At the time I started writing at 12:09 PM, 133,420 Americans had died from COVID. Upon completing this draft at 7:04 PM, that number rose to 133,940.

520 Americans died of COVID while I was working on this. In seven hours.

The length of a school day."

I listen to a podcast of MakingStarWars. they talk about Rey calling himself Rey Skywalker and confirm a few things about JediPaxis' leak. Are we Reylo just deluding ourselves into believing that Rey and Ben will be happy together in the end? will it be the same as game of thrones where absurd leaks in reddit have come true?

Oh God, dear anon, I certainly don’t hope so or think so! Rey could see herself as a Skywalker by the end of the movie as she becomes part of the family by marriage. And the only thing I will retain from those rumors and leaks is the possibility for Rey to heal or bring back someone to life because this is conveniently something we have been discussing for a while regarding the need for Kylo’s symbolic death and/or reverse Anidala. Though it would make more sense if Kylo finished Anakin’s wish of saving loved ones from death.

The Reylos have so far absolutely no reason to be deluding themselves given the material at hand. To which you can add the current comics about Kylo pointing clearly towards the redemption arc. There is a sympathy towards this character in the material and marketing that is fairly obvious. Plus tweets from officials at Lucasfilms and Disney. There is clear solid evidence that can’t be denied is all I have to say so far.

And it will be an incredibly dumb move from their part to skip an epic love story. It is what Disney does. And it is overdue in this current trilogy. No, I can’t imagine for a second they will go the GOT’s pathetic unpalatable ending. Especially given the backlash this show got for that specific reason. I am confident that the ST was scripted from day one around Kylo’s redemption and Reylo happening.

Rumors can’t change my mind. Only the movie will obviously IF for whatever twisted reason rumors all turned true. In the meantime, Reylo on all the way. But, tbh, I think it is fair to believe you can Reylo on beyond.

Do not get offended, but I think you're pretty obsessed with the relationship between Axe/Lea and Saïx/Isa. I do not deny that their friendship has been fundamental and essential in many aspects regarding the development of their characters, decisions and stories. But sometimes I think that you always try to go further, gilding the lily, only looking for details to justify a relationship beyond friendship, giving your theories as real, when it's clear that this is not the case.

Eh. I feel no reason to be offended because I know that what you’re saying about me is simply not true. I mean, I am obsessed. But…I have an obsessive personality. For better or worse, it’s how I have always been with anything that interests me. But I’m not obsessed in the way you are characterizing. It sounds like you’re saying I have shipping goggles on and I am deluding myself into seeing “signs” that don’t exist just because I’m so obsessed with this fictional pairing.

But that’s not the case. I’m so “obsessed” because I think there was a really great idea behind this ship, and it would have made a great story if it was allowed to run its course. But it was so underrated compared to Roxas/Xion/Axel that it got treated extremely badly in canon.

Axel: Well, I think you can be inseparable even if you’re apart.

Roxas: Really?

Axel: Sure, if you feel really close to each other. If you’re best friends.

Roxas: What’s it like having a best friend, Axel?

Axel: Couldn’t tell ya. I don’t have one.

Let’s not forget that this isn’t the first time Square-Enix has used a combination of sunset and waning crescent moon imagery for their characters. Final Fantasy X did this, too. Nomura is quite fond of that game. He knows damn well what those symbols mean.

Yuna: I want my journey to be full of laughter.

Tidus: Okay.

Yuna: If we should get separated, just whistle. I’ll come running. I promise.

The Okinawan word tida means “sun”. Yuna means “moon”. Most people probably know their story. They are Twin Flame lovers. Complementary opposites. Light and Dark. Yin and Yang. Inseparable.

Yuna: Pretty…

Tidus: Sure is.

Yuna: I wish I could live in a place like this. Peaceful… Living with a smile on my face every day.

Tidus: You can, once you beat Sin, right?

Yuna: But then a new Sin will be born anyway.

Tidus: Well then, you can just beat it again.

Yuna: I wish I could.

There are two particularly important scenes. One is the sunset on the Highroad where Yuna was recording a sphere saying her goodbyes to everyone.

Yuna: “So… So this is what it feels like. It’s a much more wonderful feeling than anything I had ever imagined. Wonderful…but it hurts, sometimes. I wonder. I…I just want to say, thank you for everything. Maybe…maybe that’s why it hurts. When I… When I think about us never being together again at all…”

She accepts that they cannot be together, even though she loves him.

Tidus: “Let’s go to the sea, before the sunrise. The city lights go out one by one. The stars fade…Then the horizon glows, almost like it’s on fire. It’s kinda rose-colored, right? First in the sea, then it spreads to the sky, then to the whole city. It gets brighter and brighter, till everything glows. It’s really…pretty. I know you’d like it.”

Yuna: “I’d like to see it, someday.” Tidus: “Well you can, Yuna. We can both go! Yu..?”

Yuna: “I can’t. I just can’t! I can’t go!”

And the other is the lake where they share their kiss under the moonlight. Tidus tells her that the sunset in Zanarkand is so beautiful and he wants her to go.

Yuna: “Stay with me until the end. Please.” Tidus: “Not until the end…Always.”

Yuna: “Always, then.”

She can’t, but they promise to always be together.

Yuna: “Everyone…everyone has lost something precious. Everyone here has lost homes, dreams, and friends. Everybody… Now, Sin is finally dead. Now, Spira is ours again. Working together… Now we can make new homes for ourselves, and new dreams. Although I know the journey will be hard, we have lots of time. Together, we will rebuild Spira. The road is ahead of us, so let’s start out today. Just, one more thing…The people and the friends that we have lost, or the dreams that have faded…Never forget them.”

Yuna was planning on sacrificing herself to bring peace to Spira. She kept it a secret from Tidus so he would not be sad. His cheerfulness made her journey happy. She lives, but Tidus fades away in the end. He kept the fact that he was a dream a secret so Yuna would not hesitate defeating Sin. She never wanted to forget him.

Axel: “As long as we remember each other, we’ll never be apart. Got it memorized?”

She was always very guarded about sharing those memories with anyone else. Axel always gave off the exact same sense of secretive sentimentality that Yuna did when it came to his memories. He had the sense of a person who was heartbroken over a lost love. The day Axel said his memories of the past were what he valued most, it’s titled “Too Precious to Lose” in Roxas’ Diary. Yuna would whistle into the air sometimes. Tidus taught her how. It was like Axel eating ice cream all the time. It just helped him feel connected to his memories.

Lea: “I want everybody I meet to remember me. Inside people’s memories, I can live forever.”

Isa: “I know I won’t forget you. Believe me, I try all the time.”

Lea: “See, I’m immortal!”

Sunset and waning crescent moon are used as symbols of death, tragedy and parting in both games. The final stage of a cycle. The ending. I would argue lost love as well. Isa basically died and Axel is left with nothing but the memories of him as he looks into the sunset. The Moon Rabbit is a symbol of self-sacrifice, just like Yuna. Moon characters in general tend to be very empathetic and willing to sacrifice themself. Tidus couldn’t accept Yuna sacrificing herself. Same as Axel. Sun characters are bright and cheerful and inspire hope and optimism.

The letter χ can be pronounced both “key” and “kye” (leading to some confusion) and symbolizes the perfect crossing of light and darkness. The χ-blade can be forged via a high-dimensional clash between those two poles. It is believed that the Recusant’s Sigil also derives from χ. —KH3D Glossary

Gilding the lily is basically trying to improve what is already perfect. Basically you think I’m imagining signs of a romance when it’s a perfectly good friendship, right? I’m just seeing what I want to see. I guess that’s one big disagreement I have with you right there. I don’t think their relationship, even platonically, was handled well. At all. Isa and Lea’s platonic friendship turned out to be pretty pointless in canon, if you ask me. Didn’t amount to much of any substance or value. That’s not what I wanted to see.

Xehanort: Behold… These lifeless keys used to be full of power–united with the hearts of their masters. On this barren soil, Keyblades of light and darkness were locked in combat…as a great Keyblade War raged. Countless Keyblade wielders gave up their lives, all in search of one, ultimate key. And it will soon belong to me…

TAV’s main theme was their unbreakable connection. No matter what, they always found their way back to each other. That’s the power of the heart. What was Lea/Isa’s main theme in canon? Anything involving the Recusant’s Sigil? Nope. Anything involving the power of the heart? Y’know, what Kingdom Hearts is all about? Nope. Just sequel-baiting. I guess Isa was also a plot device for fan pandering, too. I don’t view anything in the story with a shipping bias. I think Lea/Isa was written like total shit in canon. Doesn’t matter how much I like the ship. I’m not going to lie to myself and say it was well-written. I know how to separate my wishes from my observations.

Terra: Yep, hard to believe there are so many worlds out there besides our own. The light is their hearts, and it’s shining down on us like a million lanterns.

And I am just observing what is there. I think that everything you said sounds more true of all the Axel/Roxas arguments I’ve seen than Lea/Isa ones. People seeing things beyond a platonic friendship when there is absolutely no textual basis in the story to support that interpretation. It all comes down to artistic intent. You analyze the story the same way you would during English class. Critical reading. Why are events being presented in such a manner? What message is the author conveying?

Xemnas: There hangs the heart of all hearts–Kingdom Hearts–shining down on us at last. See the countless hearts that have gathered? Hearts full of rage…hate…sadness…and bliss. There, in the sky, hangs the promise of a new world.

There is a TON of evidence supporting the existence of artistic intent for a very specific idea. Xehanort is trying to forge the X-blade by initiating a clash of opposite polarities. An idea inspired by Freemasonry, hence the black and white checkerboard theme associated with him. Scala ad Caelum is Latin for “Stairway to Heaven”, a big idea in Masonry. And Masonry uses the two luminaries, the Sun and Moon, to represent Light and Darkness. The letter “X” is all about opposite polarities, as well as death and endings. Saïx sports a big fat “X” on his face as his defining characteristic (which is never explained). Lea and Isa are described as complementary opposites in the novel.

Naminé: We don’t disappear… We’re only reborn.

Axel: I’m not like you and Roxas. It’s because I don’t have a heart. I don’t want to disappear, but I’m not upset or sad about it.

There are seven Guardians of Light. There are seven colors of the rainbow. Light is made up of seven different colors. Lea’s Keyblade is based on the Phoenix, a solar bird. It represents the red Rubedo stage of alchemy. It’s called the “Flame Liberator”. In alchemy, the Phoenix symbolizes “the freeing of the spirit from the bounds of the physical”. It’s about spiritual enlightenment and eternal life. They made a point in Days of showing that cutscene about the red sunset right from the get go. It was important.

Axel: Hey, Roxas. Bet you don’t know why the sun sets red. You see, light is made up of lots of colors. And out of all those colors, red is the one that travels the farthest.

The Sun sets red because red light travels the farthest. In Luxord’s tarot deck, “The Sun” is Hazard Gear.The Sun card represents a feeling of optimism and fulfillment, and the dawn which follows the darkest of nights. Saïx’s weapon in this category is called “Light Year”, and is shaped like a Reiki angel. Reiki is a method of energy healing using one’s aura—their inner light. The weapon has a pale yellow aura. The color of renewed hope and emerging spiritual awareness. Axel’s weapon in this category is a red weapon called “Omega Trinity”, and it is shaped like a transmutation circle. The name is referring to the Tria Prima of alchemy. Sulfur (Sol), Mercury (Luna), and Salt (the Philosopher’s Stone).

“The Moon” is Dual Gear. Dual means involving two parts. The Moon represents your fears and illusions. Axel’s weapon in this gear is “Dive Bomb”, as in Dive into the Heart. And Saïx’s is “Luminary”. It’s also shaped like Reiki, and is gold. The ultimate aura color of enlightenment. Both “The Sun” and “The Moon” are shaped like the 4 of Pentacles. This card indicates that you are trying very hard to cling onto people or possessions out of fear of losing them. “The Sun” is pink, which is associated with love and forgiveness in Tarot.

Saïx: Pitiful Heartless, mindlessly collecting hearts. The rage of the Keyblade releases those hearts. They gather in darkness, masterless and free…until they weave together to make Kingdom Hearts. And when that time comes, we can truly, finally exist.

Isa is a Moon character, and pretty much all of his weapons are feminine terms. He has a weapon called “Queen of the Night”. In Japan it is known as “Gekka Bijin”, meaning “Beauty under the Moon”. This white flower only blooms one night a year, usually under a full moon. This weapon is listed under Glory Gear. In Luxord’s deck, this is “Strength”. This card is about inner strength and the human spirit’s ability to overcome any obstacle. It represents the ability to ‘tame’ your animal instincts, gut reactions, and raw emotions, and channel them accordingly. The symbol on the card it the Two of Cups. It represents a partnership that is built on the union of forces, a strong connection and a balanced and equal partnership. Each party’s emotions are intertwined with the other’s, and each participant’s feelings have profound effects on the other. It symbolizes the joy of two becoming one.

“See anything interesting out there, Poppet?” Xigbar patted her on the shoulder.

Meanwhile, Axel plopped down on the sofa and pretended he wasn’t listening in. Xion turned to look up at Xigbar. “Just Kingdom Hearts.”

“Is it all that interesting?”

“It’s kind of pretty.”

Xigbar let out a low chuckle. Axel didn’t see what Xigbar found so entertaining about that reply. But then he could never quite follow what he was thinking.

Xion looked rather confused herself. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing—you’re just making so much progress.” Xigbar kept laughing, as if there was an uproariously good joke in it somewhere.

He has another weapon with the same shape called “King of the Night”. In alchemy, the Sun is the Red King, the Moon is the White Queen. This is Raging Gear. In Luxord’s deck, this is “The Devil”. The Devil card represents your shadow side and the negative forces that constrain you and hold you back. The Devil card appears in a reading when you have been tricked into thinking you have no control over your shadow self or these negative forces, and that you can never break free from their hold. It is shaped like the 10 of Pentacles, which is an omen for success, no matter what your current lot in life is. Axel’s weapon is the yellow stage of the Phoenix wings. Citrinitas represents “the transmutation of silver into gold,” “the yellowing of the lunar consciousness”,  and “the dawning of the solar consciousness inherent in one’s being”.

In alchemy, the Red King and White Queen are associated with the Emperor and Empress arcanas. The Empress represents the feminine principle and is Valiant Gear. Axel’s weapon is purple and called Double Edge. It is shaped like the Third Eye chakra, which is on the forehead, and controls the ability to “see” things with the mind’s eye. It’s where Saïx’s “X” scar is located. Saïx’s weapon is “Moonset”, which is when the sun rises and the moon disappears in the sky. It’s pink and shaped like the symbol of Vesta, a goddess of chastity known as the “Keeper of the Sacred Flame”.

The Emperor represents the masculine principle and is Ultimate Gear. Axel’s weapon is called “Rapid Spinner” which refers to the chakras and is shaped like the Crown Chakra. The highest one that connects a person to higher consciousness. Saïx’s weapon is called Horoscope and is shaped like Venus/Sagittarius (a fire sign). It is pink, an aura associated with love, affection, compassion, healing, and a new or newly revived romantic relationship.

Star and Crescent—the symbol on Isa’s jacket in the epilogue—is a Sun and Moon symbol meaning a union of complementary opposites, and romantic love. Alchemy is all about a union of complementary opposites. The Sun and Moon’s marriage and sexual union is a symbol of the Philosopher’s Stone, along with the Phoenix, gold, and the color red. It’s all there in the story. I certainly didn’t put it there. The writers did. Some people might just say that Sun and Moon imagery is not necessarily romantic. 99% of the time it is, though. But if ALL that wasn’t enough, there’s the way Axel was paralleled with the Beast.

Beast: The last rose petal is about to fall… When it does, I’ll lose– No! I can’t bear it–I don’t even want to think about it!

Axel: I guess the closest thing we Nobodies have got is our past. You know, memories of the stuff we couldn’t bear to lose, back when we couldn’t bear to lose it.

The Beast’s rose is like Axel’s memories. The rose represents the Beast’s last hope to return to his past. And it also represents his desire to love and be loved by another in return.

Beast: Belle… I couldn’t bear to see you…or the other’s hurt. A master protects his castle… I don’t want to lose you.

Roxas: That still doesn’t explain what love is… Is love fighting to protect what’s most important to you? Where does its power come from?

Love is fighting to protect what’s most important to you.

Roxas: I found out about love on today’s mission–that it’s something powerful.

Axel: That’s true. It is. But I’ll never get to experience it.

Axel’s memories are what he considers most important to him. “Because that’s all we have to remember the pain of losing something.” The Beast is tired of strength. He wants to experience love, but thinks he never will. Axel doesn’t care about Xemnas’ promise of power. He wants to complete Kingdom Hearts to experience love, but thinks he never will. Wink wink, nudge nudge. I’m sorry, but you don’t just write things this way by accident. It’s all intentional.

Axel: Love is what happens if there’s something really special between two people.

Roxas: More special than friends? Like…if they’re best friends? Inseparable?

Axel: Well, you can care about your friends, I guess, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

I’m not imagining any of it.

Roxas wouldn’t let it go. “Do you think we would, if we had hearts?”

“Once Kingdom Hearts is complete, I bet you’ll be able to figure it out.”

The magic words again, Axel thought. It’ll all make sense when Kingdom Hearts is complete. But was that true? No one had ever seen it happen before. So who knew?

Still, all they could do was believe in it. Pitiful Heartless, mindlessly collecting hearts…

It all supports the idea of Lea and Isa originally being viewed as a romantic pairing by the writers. I don’t get what you mean by me giving my theories as real. I’m not claiming to be a Square-Enix insider or anything. I post my opinions and I assume that the people reading are smart enough to decide for themselves whether they find them persuasive or not. I don’t have to force anyone to think anything. If the evidence is strong enough people will be able to see it themself.

Where exactly to you get the idea that Sansa is vacillating b/w admiring Cersei or rejecting her worldview? Throughout her actions in season 7 with the way she ruled it showed she does not accept Cersei's beliefs. If she's wasn't a Queen who ruled with loved then the Northern Lord's wouldn't have talked about wanting her to rule instead of Jon. Sansa does not have to make a choice b/c she already made it long ago about the type of ruler she wants to be.

Hey, nonnie. 

Where did I get that idea? Hmmm … Let’s see … 

Sansa: We should give Last Hearth and Karhold to new families. Loyal families who supported us against Ramsay. 

Jon: The Karstarks and the Umbers kept faith for generation after generation. 

Sansa: And then they broke faith. 

Jon: I’m not going to strip these families of their homes because of the crimes of a few reckless sons. 

Sansa: So there’s no punishment for treason and no reward for loyalty? 

Jon: The punishment for treason is death. Small Jon Umber died on the field of battle. Harrold Karstark died on the field of battle. 

Sansa: They died fighting for Ramsay. Give the castles to the families of the men who died fighting for you. 

This is a very eat or be eaten type of mentality. Further punctuated by Sansa in the private conversation with Jon that follows this with: 

Sansa: You have to be smarter than father. You have to be smarter than Robb. I loved them. I miss them. But they both made stupid mistakes and they lost their heads for it. 

What this line seems to be implying about Sansa’s world view is that mercy to your enemies (or in this case the children of your enemies) could be a mistake that could cost you your head. That’s exactly the type of mentality that Cersei has: “Kill your enemies before they kill you” and the definition of enemy for Cersei stretches enough to include people that aren’t directly responsible for what happened. Sansa should know that better than anyone. She was, after all, for quite some time in a similar position to Alys Karstark and Ned Umber. 

The reason why I say she’s vacillating is because once Jon leaves Winterfell, when Arya proposes they just kill anyone who talks against Jon, Sansa says this: 

Sansa: Winterfell didn’t just fall into our hands. We took it back. And the Mormonts, and the Hornwoods and the Wildlings and the Vale. All of us working together. Now, I’m sure cutting off heads is very satisfying but that’s not the way you get people to work together. 

This is pretty different to Cersei’s world view and more in tune with the young girl who said: “If I am ever queen, I will make them love me”. 

However, when Arya begins to attack her, Sansa says this: 

Sansa: You should be on your knees thanking me. We’re standing in Winterfell again because of me. You didn’t win it back. Jon didn’t win it back. He lost the Battle of the Bastards. The Knights of the Vale won the battle and they rode North for me. 

Emilia Clarke had a fantastic insight into D*ny when she said that whenever D*ny gets angry or feels threatened, the dragon comes out. I would say something similar happens with Sansa. Whenever Sansa is angry or feels threatened, a bit of Cersei comes out: the ice queen, the woman who feels unappreciated when compared to the men in her life, the woman who wants to crush her enemies until there’s no one to potentially pose a threat. This comes out: 

Cersei: In the Game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no other way. 

Am I saying that Sansa has turned into Cersei and that she is destructive? Of course not. What I’m saying is that Cersei represents a model for Sansa and she had a profound effect on her, similar to the effect the Hound had on Arya. Both taught the Stark girls some important lessons but they also imparted some extremely nihilistic views of the world onto them, and done so at a time where they were both very young, vulnerable and prone to assimilate their opinions. 

Sansa might have had ideas on what kind of ruler she wanted to be but she’s never been a ruler before so the practice of it comes with its own set of challenges and lessons. She’s feeling her way through it just like everyone else and she needs to reach for examples of how to do it. 

There’s also the matter of this: 

Sansa: If you’re her [Cersei] enemy, she will never stop until she’s destroyed you. Everyone who has ever crossed her, she’s found a way to murder. 

Jon: You almost sound as if you admire her. 

Sansa: I learned a great deal from her. 

I’ve made the argument in the past that this exchange was done in order to stoke the fires of the dark Sansa plot line that will never happen and I still hold to that. However, if in season 8 we will have a reunion between Sansa and Cersei this exchange needs to come back into play, particularly since Jon’s question remained unanswered. 

There is a part of Sansa that perhaps admires Cersei’s efficiency in disposing of the people that wish her harm. And I can understand why. Sansa has been abused, humiliated, tormented and used. Perhaps she believes that being like Cersei will help her and her family not go through that again. Why do you think it took her so long to orchestrate the demise of Littlefinger? It wasn’t because she liked him, that’s for sure. My interpretation is that because of Littlefinger’s acumen in regards to politics and people, she felt she still needed his guidance to a certain extent. It’s the same thing with Cersei. 

She’s already eliminated LF from her life. Her last giant is Cersei and just like with Littlefinger, the battle will be waged in Sansa’s heart.  Once faced with Cersei again, she will be able to see beyond the image of Cersei as this all powerful mastermind. Because it’s a false image. Cersei’s power, just like her father’s and Littlefinger’s, is built on quick sand and her reckoning is coming. She’s completely alone, she’s lost her children and her lover brother, the people hate her. All she has is an undead monster and wildfire. Faced with that, Sansa will be able to see the difference between someone who is feared and someone who is loved. As book Sansa put it: 

Love is a surer way to the people’s loyalty than fear

Of course, a compassionate approach to kingship comes with its own set of threats and problems but in the long run it pays off, as the legacy of Ned shows.  Luckily for Sansa, Cersei was but a momentary instructor in her life and she has someone much better to model herself after: her mother. 

As for this: 

If she’s wasn’t a Queen who ruled with loved then the Northern Lord’s wouldn’t have talked about wanting her to rule instead of Jon.

I mean … I’d argue but I think I’d rather let Sansa do it for me: 

Littlefinger: The king chose you to rule in his absence. And rule you have: wisely, ably. They [the lords] see that. They respect you. Some may even prefer you. 

Sansa: Yes. They turn their backs on Jon when it was time to retake Winterfell. Than they named him their king. And now they’re ready to turn their backs on him again. How far would you trust men like that? They’re all bloody windvanes. 

Let’s not delude ourselves here. Sansa isn’t. The Lords of the North aren’t paragons of virtue or wisdom. They’re so fearful of a Red Wedding repeat, they practically threw Sansa and Jon out of their castles when they came asking for help against Ramsay. They named Jon their King and then because he’s been gone too long, they’re looking for another option closer to home. They’re going to be a handful to control in season 8, even for someone with Sansa’s skills. 

Thanks for the ask. 

A million apologies for the delay. I am so honoured that people have liked my take on something supernatural. Let me know what you think about this chapter. This will be my second last, thanks for reading and reviewing, lovelies. Artwork above by the awesomely talented Ashleigh @ashleigh-jewitt-xx

Part Ten: The Witching Hour

I can see the way you look at me. You can't see beyond the veil. I can tell by the way you run from me. I'm not your perfect fairy tale...

Mikaelson Compound, French Quarter - Thursday AM

Klaus should have been pissed, but the pesky, mating bond was toying with his emotions. He would never let anyone spike his wine with truth serum but when it came to Caroline he was helpless to act, not that he'd ever admit that to his enemies. He continued to pace the length of the courtyard back and forth hoping that an idea would materialise but so far he had no idea about his next move.

He'd powered through all of the self-help dating manuals he could get his hands on, even stolen a copy of Rebekah's He's Just Not That Into You, but the supposedly fearless, King of New Orleans was confused with just how to proceed. Usually he'd think a little magical intervention might lend itself to some kind of foreplay but after his wine incident he was doubting that. Caroline truly was an enigma and he was struggling under the weight of the challenge to win her back.

He was hopelessly in love with this magnificent creature who Klaus knew would render him breathless if he wasn't already dead. He just wished she felt the same way. Klaus had already experienced rejection at a young age and somehow instilling fear in his enemies at a later stage filled the void. That was until he met Caroline and every insecurity he'd ever felt was laid bare. What if she could never love him as he did her? What if he was destined to be alone forever without the mate he desired?

"What the hell are you doing?" Enzo interrupted emerging from the kitchen, his eyebrows raised curiously.

"Last time I checked this was my house," he mumbled, finally standing still to glance at his sister's mouthy boyfriend. "Why do you feel the need to skulk around and pass judgment?"

"Only because it's so much fun," he chuckled, helping himself to a large handful of potato chips he'd swiped from the kitchen.

"And eat all our food," he growled, snatching the packet from his greedy hands as he passed."Remind me what my deluded sister sees in you again, St John?"

"When there's so much entertainment in one place, one needs the perfect snack accompaniment, Niklaus, and as for Rebekah I'm glad you asked because it's difficult to put into words just how amazing yours truly is..."

"Why did I even ask?" He muttered, throwing the chips aside, his frustration returning with a vengeance. "And nothing is happening here," he snapped, resuming his pacing.

"That’s obviously the problem, Niklaus. Your sexual frustration reeks of desperation," Enzo pressed, probably against his better judgment.

"And so is your pathetic semblance of a life, don't forget how I could bring that all to an end with one swift move," Klaus glowered, his blue eyes boring into his.

"How exactly do you plan on explaining that to Rebekah?" He stilled, knowing Enzo had a point. Damn his whiny, spoiled sister and her poor taste in male suitors.

"So, if you're gong to loiter, how about making yourself useful?"

"Now, I'm intrigued," he smirked, finding the discarded packet of chips and proceeding to stuff his face again. "What exactly do you want?"

"You tell anyone about this I will kill you St John, to hell with Rebekah's wishes," he hissed, throwing the chip packet away again menacingly. "I need some advice."

"Relationship advice? If you're expecting me not to make a joke then..." Klaus threw the closest piece of furniture in his direction next, only missing him by inches. "No need to throw a tantrum, princess. Now let's start from the beginning..."

Spellbound, French Quarter - Friday PM

Bonnie pulled the door shut, turning her keys in the lock as she did everyday. She was exhausted, as if the recent happenings with the Mikaelsons wasn't enough she had to continue to run a thriving business. 

She checked her watch realising she needed to hurry if she was going to make it to drinks at the Pontchartrain Hotel. Everything was riding on tonight, there couldn’t be any glitches if their plan was going to succeed. 

It was a warm evening but she couldn't miss the feeling of someone loitering nearby, his intoxicating scent all too familiar.

"Last time I checked, you'd whined like a spoiled child and scurried back under your rock."

"Ouch," he uttered, finally coming out from the shadows, his brown eyes trained solely on her face. She shivered involuntarily, he always had that power over her even if she wished he didn't sometimes. "Do you think that badly of me, darling?"

"I do." He nodded by way of response before circling her curiously, his hand finding its way to her shoulder and massaging it softly.

"But you left me." Bonnie closed her eyes not expecting his surprise interrogation but torn as to how to respond. "Why do you think I'm such a monster after everything we shared?" His finger was now tracing her upper lip slowly and she was struggling not to kiss him it felt that good.

"I never said that," she mumbled, every inch of control ebbing away with each moment.

"But you rejected me, it's hard not to feel devastated by that."

"What do you want?" She trembled, stepping back she was so terrified by their close proximity. Why did he have to come back into her life and mess everything up? Why did he have to make her question everything she ever believed?

"You," he murmured, moving closer again, playing with a stray lock of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. One word and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"I'm not one of your sycophants, Kol."

"And that's why I love you," he smiled knowingly, palming her cheek now. Bonnie could sense the truth and between the earnest glance he was sending her and the way he was touching her she knew Kol meant it. It was as beautiful as it was crushing at the same time.

"This will never work," she drawled, her gaze downcast. "We're too different."

"You say that a lot, darling," he offered.

"Because it's true, Kol."

"Maybe so but last time I checked differences were a good thing. I mean, as amazing as I am, even I would get bored of my perfection after a while."

"How can you say something so deep and then follow it up with a joke?"

"It's a skill, I'll admit."

"Vain bastard," she mumbled, trying not to smile. What could she say? Kol Mikaelson brought it out in her, in fact he brought out a gambit of emotions and it was equally annoying as it was breathtaking.

"But you still love me, right?" He implored, his cheeky expression suddenly serious again. Bonnie stilled, of course she loved him but there was so much he didn't know about her. The prolonged silence hung heavily in the air, Kol shifting his balance. She knew he did that when he was nervous but trying to pretend he wasn't.

"I'm curious," he spoke again, Kol never did like silence. "When you found out Caroline had lured Klaus to the picnic spot with the white oak stake you were the first to rush to their aid. And when I say that, I mean Niklaus."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do," he shot back, now retreating backwards. "So did Elijah but he's been dodging my questions all week. What exactly is going on here?"

"Excuse me? Nothing is going on."

"If you're in love with my brother you could at least tell me," he hissed. "It's the least I deserve after pining for you incessantly and, between you and me, that's not something I've ever done or admitted publicly."

"How big of you."

"You should know, of all people, that I use humour and sarcasm to hide my true feelings." He had a point but she didn't address that comment just his outlandish claim.

"You think I love Elijah?"

"Well, it would explain this mysterious secret you both share." If the situation wasn't so serious, Bonnie would have rolled her eyes at his blatant jealousy.

"I don't have a thing for your brother, but if you must know Katherine does. I mean suits are only good in small doses in my view." She couldn't miss the sly smile forming across his face. She felt bouyed briefly before realising what she had to say. "But there is something I need to tell you. Yes, I couldn't let Klaus die."

"Don't tell me you love him now?"

"Seriously, Kol," she replied gruffly. "Just shut your trap and listen."

Lobby, Pontchartrain Hotel, 2031 Charles Avenue - Friday PM

"What the hell are you doing here?" Katherine hissed, looking around her surrounds suspiciously. She thought she was meeting Bonnie for some much needed drinks and operation 'get the mates together before we kill them ourselves' but was surprised to come across the eldest Mikaelson in all his well-suited glory. 

She wasn't so concerned about what he was doing there, just kicking herself that she didn't choose the fitted, red dress over her current, flowing, black ensemble.

"Your decorum astounds me, Miss Pierce," he chuckled, very out of character for the most serious and uptight of the Mikaelson clan. "Not that I expect any less."

"I'd tell you where you could stick your decorum Mr Mikaelson but I'd rather know what's going on. Where is Bonnie?"

"She asked me to meet you here instead, she had a few pressing matters to attend to this evening." She raised her eyebrows curiously, what matters and how did Elijah of all people know about them?

"I'm not interested in being your second choice, Mikaelson."

"Your second choice?" He asked, his confusion evident. She was trying to remain strong but his aftershave was messing with her confidence, something that never happened to Katherine Pierce. Ever.

"Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"Please," he asked, all too quickly. "Otherwise we might be here all night at this rate. I'm not like most men you know, I don't play games..." she gave him a dubious look by way of response.

"What do you call that heart-pulling party trick then?"

"I only reserve that for people who cross me. You might get under my skin but pulling out your heart is a little overkill, even if you did mention not having one." She was surprised he remembered what she'd said given just how many other things had happened since that night. "Anyway, I thought we were becoming friends, Miss Pierce."

"Says the guy who is allergic to my first name. It's obvious we are far too different," she insisted, beginning to pace back and forth. "In fact, we'd never be able to agree on sandwich fillings for picnics, impromptu friend interruptions or whether it's appropriate to keep innocent people captive."

"I admit I made the wrong call that day, it was out of character and I was somewhat stressed."

"Stressed? The calm guy standing serenely and dressed immaculately in that suit? I don't think so, buddy."

"I'm always protective of my family to the death no matter what my outward reactions betray. It's something I will never apologise for and not unlike how you are with your friends, especially given your presence here tonight."

When Enzo had approached the witches last night, they were quick to agree that Klaus and Caroline needed an intervention and fast. Apparently the Original Hybrid had been insufferable, which wasn't entirely out of character, but Caroline was the one spiralling into a full blown crisis. 

She was moody, agitated and her already, unstable magic was completely out of control. Bonnie couldn't afford to keep replacing all the shattered, potion bottles she'd broken in fits of rage and was worried about leaving her unsupervised because of what she might do and to whom. When she gave up beignets, the girls knew she needed help.

Yes, Klaus had been an ass but after administering the truth serum, Caroline was in no doubt of his feelings towards her and was struggling to deal with the onslaught given she couldn't hide behind her cool bravado anymore. 

Their plan was to lure Caroline out so she and Klaus could finally have it out without any interruptions. Given they had been those interruptions thus far, they were determined to make themselves scarce as soon as possible.

What Katherine couldn't reconcile was why Elijah was there. Obviously he was hoping for a reconciliation too but the fact Bonnie had orchestrated his appearance didn't fit. When they'd rushed to the picnic spot to save Klaus from Caroline and the white oak stake, Bonnie had been the one leading the charge and Elijah seemed to know why. She'd peppered her with questions during the week but Bonnie was uncommitted and dismissive, something that was becoming a recurring theme when it came to the Mikaelsons. She thought her hesitation and the wall she’d built up against Kol would disappear with time but maybe there was another reason and it involved his older brother?

"Look, if you love Bonnie then just admit it..."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm a big girl but I'm predicting Kol's revenge won't be so kind for messing with his girl."

"I’m confused." He uttered, shaking his head. “Again.”

“You and me both,” she interrupted. Caroline appeared, dressed immaculately in deep blue silk, the colour only illuminating her eyes further. Her golden waves were cascading down her back and she looked at them both curiously and expectantly. “What have I missed?”

They both looked at each other helplessly before training their gaze back on Caroline. Tonight wasn’t about them or their weird love lives, no matter how messed up they were.

“Finally,” Katherine covered, plastering on a fake smile. “I thought I was going to have to deal with this guy all night.”

"I thought this was girl's night out? No offence, Elijah."

“Miss Pierce and I just happened to run into each other. I have business with the manager,” he nodded curtly. “In fact I best get to it.” He gave Katherine a confused look before retreating, in fact it was probably the quickest he’d ever left a room, it was that awkward.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on? Are Bonnie and Elijah...” Caroline trailed off, her recent bout of indifference finally lifting. For Katherine it couldn’t come at a better moment.  

“No,” she lied, not sure what was happening there. “He just pisses me off so I Iike to return the favour every now and again.” Katherine was hurting but she couldn’t let her friend know that. 

“Tell me about it,” she drawled knowingly. Katherine didn’t need to guess that she was referring to Klaus. 

“Bonnie’s already up at the bar. I’m going to visit the ladies and wash some Elijah Mikaelson judgment off me then I’ll be right up.” Caroline didn’t seem so convinced but gave her a small smile and entered the lift headed for the rooftop.

“She’s going to kill me,” Katherine murmured as the lift door’s closed, making a quick escape and hoping to avoid Elijah at the same time.

Hot Tin Bar, Pontchartrain Hotel, 2031 Charles Avenue, Friday PM

Klaus was nervous, probably more than he’d ever been over the span of his thousand year existence. Enzo said he’d handle the logistics and he was suddenly doubting his judgment for trusting the idiot. But when it came to Caroline Forbes, Klaus was a basket case of emotions. 

He checked his watch, she was supposed to be here at five fifteen in anticipation for the brilliant ‘big easy’ sunset at six and it was now five forty-five. The sky was already bursting with brilliant streaks of orange and pink but he couldn’t enjoy it because she wasn’t here. 

He probably deserved it, but all he wanted was to make things right between them. If she left him after that then he’d done all he could to convince her they were meant to be. 

He looked around the rooftop bar, checking everything was just right. He’d insisted the staff clear out so it was just him, her and the sunset. He heard a ding from the elevator, his anxiety levels rising but also hoping it was Caroline. 

She emerged slowly, an absolute vision in blue. He couldn’t miss the initial curiosity on her face but then it was replaced by hurt and confusion, not that he was surprised. The silence was overwhelming as their eyes met across the rooftop. Before she could rush back to the elevator and leave he made his way towards her hurriedly.  

“Please, don’t go.” He pleaded. She was torn, he could tell that much by the way her eyes flickered between him and the elevator. “Not yet.”

What would happen next between them would be unexpected as it was bewitching.

On FF HERE

Time-Scattered Blossoms: Part One

This is whole thing ended up right at 10k words. That is WAY too big for one post so it’s going up in at least two, possibly three parts. I will post the rest as I finish editing it. Speaking of, I make no guarantees the editing on this is any good. At a certain point, it all runs together. ^_^;

THIS IS SUPER SPOILER HEAVY FOR SHINGEN’S ROUTE

Inspired by this part of Shingen’s route, Backstreet Boys - Unmistakable, and Skillet - Watching for Comets

That’s right, this is a 10k long songfic! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Was it chance or fate that caused Yukimura to find her that day? The longer he knows her the stronger the feeling grows he’s made a promise to someone to protect her. That she’s waiting for someone, they both are...

One. Two. Three. Does he love me? Or does he love me not? Remember or forgot? Four. Five. Six. Will time fix, a broken heart, when time tore it apart Seven. Eight. Nine. Will love ever be mine? And ten. If so, when?

She recited the poem as she plucked the petals one by one from a flower in her small hands. She finished with one petal remaining and a bright smile on her face. A pair of teenage boys sauntered up behind her snickering. One of them plucked the flower out of her hand and crushed it in his fist while the other kicked her book bag. The contents spilled out and skid across the pavement.

“Didn't anyone tell you, you can't predict anything with a stupid flower?” One jeered, a wicked chuckle under his breath after saying so. On the other side of the park, another boy took notice. Something about seeing the events unfolding caused his chest to get tight with anger. His hands coiled into fists as he got to his feet.

“And what exactly are we doing, Dear?” Saizo asked disinterested as the boy passed him by.

“Isn't it obvious? I can’t sit by and let them bully her!” He declared as he marched forward. He knew he couldn't explain it. Even if he could, Saizo had no reason to believe him if he said something in his very soul told him had to protect this girl. It was something so strong it caused him to move, caused him to speak without even thinking. There was something intensely familiar about her, intensely comforting. Like she was home, or part of it. Like, she had always been a part of his life. Which is why watching one of them push her out of her seat set him over the edge. He didn't need courage to call out to the delinquents, courage meant he was afraid. No, in that moment he didn't feel afraid, he felt anger and an odd sense of purpose.

“Didn't anyone ever teach you not to pick on girls like that?” The stern voice that called out, accompanied by cracking knuckles was not the boy she expected. She had thought it would be her friend, an older boy named Inuchiyo, mean mugging the older boys. To her surprise it was a boy she'd never seen before. He was older than her, but not as old as the boys antagonizing her. The older boys didn't seem to pay him much mind.

“Oh, and are you going to teach us a lesson?”

“Damn right I am!” Suddenly, a hand clapped over his shoulder.

“And if he doesn't, I sure as hell will.” The voice beside him growled, low and threatening.

“Toshiie...”

“Damn right, Toshiie. And this is my martial arts junior, Yukimura.” He went on pressing forward. “He's never understood how to hold back.” He slowly cracked individual knuckles with each step he took. “Then again, neither have I...”

“Hey... We don't want any trouble...” The delinquents were back pedaling now. Hands shaking and voices quaking as the school's martial arts champion and his protege drew closer.

“If you didn't want any trouble, you shouldn't go around bullying others.” Yukimura growled, stopping next to the girl.

“Especially not my family friend...”

“We... we didn't know!” They were tripping over themselves as they tried to back away faster.

“It doesn't matter! You shouldn't be bullying anyone. Now, get out of here and if I ever see you screwing with people again you'll regret it!” The delinquents scampered away and Toshiie turned back to Yukimura and the girl. Yukimura looked deeply distressed as he tried awkwardly to sooth the crying girl.

“Geez, you always were a crybaby...” Toshiie sighed in exasperation but his face was nothing but fond. He helped her up to her feet again. “Skinned your knees, huh?” She nodded as she wiped the tears from her face. “It's not too bad.”

“That's not why I'm crying!” She blurted out in frustration. “They said there's no such thing as true love and I'll die an old, gray. lonely woman!” She sniffled looking like she might burst out crying again.

“You're not going to end up alone.” Both boys spoke in near unison, with equal measure of resolution. Toshiie looked at Yukimura incredulously.

“You just met her, how would you know?” He wilted under the gaze of his superior.

“I... just... I have this feeling, ya know?” He knew there was no way he could explain it to Toshiie either when he didn't even fully understand it himself.

“A feeling he says...” Toshiie sighed in exasperation as he bent down to start picking up the girl's scatter belongings. “Well anyways,” he looked over to the girl, “whaddya say we take Yukimura here to the restaurant to meet Mom, Pops, and Yahiko?” She sniffled one last time, gave her face one last good swipe of her hands, and nodded.

Several years passed and she came to be good friends with Yukimura. Somehow, he had an almost as inexplicable sense for when she might be in danger as Toshiie. As they got older, Toshiie went off to college leaving Yukimura the task of protecting her. Though he had been asked, Yukimura would have done so anyways.

“You can count on me, Toshiie! I promise on my honor as a man I will protect her! And Sanada Yukimura never breaks his promises!” Though he had said it so enthusiastically, something in the back of his mind gave him pause. A nag saying maybe he didn’t always keep his promises. He brushed it off as a bit of anxiety over his friend leaving and went on.

The passage of time made the feelings he had around her no less explainable. A new one had started to coalesce that seemed to be related to them though. A feeling like he was waiting for someone, he had to get her back to someone. Someone important to them both. He never talked about it though, not until one day at the restaurant she broached a topic he never would have thought to discuss.

“Yukimura... Would you, I don't know, want to go out sometime? Like on a date?” Her straightforward question made his body stiffen and cheeks redden.

“I... um... well...” He stammered and fumbled for words and she giggled. The smile on her face told him she didn't understand the cause of his distress. Realizing that, he knew he had to be honest with her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steel his resolve and calm his nerves.

“I never considered the possibility.” She looked utterly crushed, he knew she would. “From the day I met you I knew there was someone out there for you. Someone truly great and strong. I know I'm not that person.” Her brows furrowed as a memory came back to her. A memory from when they first met, the resolve in his eyes when he said she wouldn't end up alone.

“It probably sounds crazy... but...” He looked away, eyes clouded with doubt. “For a long time I felt like I had to protect you, because I made a promise...”

“And Sanada Yukimura never breaks his promises...” She finished for him with a troubled smile. “If it's a promise you don't remember making, can you really say you're still honor bound to it?” That was the problem... The thing he couldn't explain. He did remember and he didn't at the same time.

“It's like a dream you know you had but don't quite remember when you wake up. It's a feeling like something happened and you should know what it was. No matter how hard you try though, you can't.” His eyes never could hold a lie, they were clear and earnest as he spoke. It was obvious to her now he honestly believed what he was saying, no matter how crazy it might seem. She smiled softly at him as she slid her hand across the table, laying it atop his.

“I know how I feel when I'm around you, Yukimura. I feel like you're meant to be in my life. You feel like...” She paused for a moment trying to find the right word.

“Home.” They both finished in unison, both looked at each other shocked. Blushing they promptly looked in opposite directions.

“If... If by some chance you ever change your mind. I would much rather grow old and die with you than alone.”

“You're not going to die alone.” His answer was no less resolute than it had been all those years before.

Shingen stood looking out over the city from the balcony of his hotel room. He idly plucked the petals from a flower he had taken from the arrangement inside. One by one he pulled them out and watched them flutter away, caught on the breeze, carried off to parts unknown.

“You know girls used to play a game doing that. Pull the petals off one by one chanting 'he loves me, he loves me not.' If the last petal you plucked said he loved you, it had to be true.” A woman’s voice interjected itself into his early morning musings. “That couldn't possibly be what you're doing, is it?” The indignity in her voice irritated him, her demeaning laugh infuriated him. “Let's not fool ourselves, shall we? There's not a single romantic bone in your body. So, why delude yourself with such foolish notions as true love?”

“If I were playing the game you described, that would imply there was someone I hoped loved me, would it not? Perhaps you brought it up hoping it was you?” The tiger bore its fangs, but she simply smiled and shook her head.

“I have no need for your love as long as you keep giving me your body.” She replied so self-assuredly it made him sick as she ran a finger down his arm in a languid stroke. “Besides, we'll be married before long anyways. Love or not...” Those words left a knot in his stomach he didn't like but couldn't explain.

She had once been his friend and confidante but over time they had grown apart. Now all she was to him was someone to warm his bed he knew wouldn't try to blackmail him later. Their parents had arranged for them to wed to bring their family businesses together. At the time, a year ago, he had agreed to it because he had been able to force down the vague sense of wanting something more out of a marriage. He justified it as his duty to his family. But the vague feeling of wanting something more grew each time they interacted.  Someone who could do more than only warm his bed. Someone who could also warm his heart.

“Anytime, anywhere, anyplace. You could be anyone today. Maybe I would recognize you on a crowded street...” He muttered as he continued to stand there, watching the people scurry to and fro, flower in hand, when a different kind of chant filled his mind. Recalled from his childhood... or maybe a time much further away.

One. Two. Three. Does he love me? Or does he love me not? Remember or forgot? Four. Five. Six. Will time fix, a broken heart, when time tore it apart? Seven. Eight. Nine. Will love ever be mine? And ten. If so, when?

He looked down at the one petal remaining, recalling that meant he was destined to find love. He laughed in self-deprecation because for one moment he allowed himself to believe in a childhood oracle. Surely his betrothed was right about that, such things had no place in their world. And yet... Why couldn't he let go off the hope the thought of true love kindled in his heart?

“You have a meeting with your Father in an hour.” Kansuke's voice pulled Shingen from his thoughts. The remnants of the flower slipped from his hand as he turned back towards the door.

“This marriage is a bad idea.” Kansuke said as if he knew what was on his employer’s mind.

“We've been over this before.” His answer was firm, firmer than his own feelings on the matter. Kansuke couldn't know that. No one could. The pair glared at each other, if one could call Kansuke’s nigh emotionless expression a glare, for several moments before Kansuke turned and disappeared into the hotel room again.

 The room where Shingen and his Father sat was richly furnished with dark wood pieces and deeply colored rugs contrasted against white marble floors. Bookshelves lined the high walls on one side, flanked on one end of the room by a pair of massive double doors and wide fireplace on the other. A fired burned in the fireplace bringing much needed warmth to the chill atmosphere of the room.

No more than a month prior, his father had announced Shingen would be marrying a childhood friend. It was a last-ditch effort on his Father's part to save their company. He had been unsuccessful in his attempts to consolidate power within the company and impose his vision on it. Shingen knew this all too well. At the same time, he wasn't willing to toss his hat in the ring just yet and try to take the reins. He certainly could, being the CEO's son, but he was on the cusp of graduating college and unproven. He had to get some experience under his belt, some supporters behind him.

Understanding the arranged marriage didn't make him anymore willing to go through with it. The older they got the more their relationship had devolved to small talk turned to sex and little more. If she walked out of his life completely, he would wish her well, but wouldn't miss her. He knew little of romance, that was true, but he knew you should probably at least miss the person you're married to when they were gone.

“You're quiet.” His father finally called after taking a puff of a cigar. Shingen turned his gaze from one of the massive windows and the snow falling outside to look at his father.

“I was thinking about something...” His response was passive, indifferent. He didn't want to be there, he'd rather be outside skiing and find himself a nice snow bunny to warm his bed in a cabin far away.

“About the engagement?” His father seemed hardly any more interested in the conversation than Shingen was. He leaned back in his chair and peered at the fire.

“Yes.” Shingen moved from the window to sit in one of the over-sized leather armchairs by the fire. “I have reservations.”

“It's not too late to add something to the pre-nup. You haven't signed it yet.”

“Nothing like that.” He answered with a low tone, eyes trained on the dancing flames. His father quirked an eyebrow at him, a knowing scowl on his face. He extinguished the cigar before picking up a glass of dark liquor and drinking all of it down. He huffed out his next breath to suppress the burn of the liquor from coming out in his voice.

“Then what is it?” The elder Takeda wondered with no small measure of irritation in his voice.

“When was the last time you saw your wife?” Shingen's step-mother had been a marriage of convenience, much like his would be if he went through with it.

“We had dinner a few weeks ago.”

“And before that?” His grip on the arms of the chair tightened to keep his expression from changing.

“A few months. I can't really recall.” His father got up, waving his hand as if the motion would dispel Shingen's train of thought. “Look, I know where this is going. You have known this girl your whole life. You even dated for a few years there.”

“There's a reason we aren't dating anymore.”

His Father pressed on, rolling right over Shingen's interjection as if he had never said it at all. He had a habit of that, sometimes, to just ignore what those around him were saying even if the advice was good.

“Why the sudden change? If there's someone else, it's fine as long as you keep it and them quiet.” He said it as if it were nothing, the simplest thing. It made Shingen's blood boil from the sheer inability to reconcile what he was hearing. Why would he marry someone he didn't care about and keep the person he did care about as a mistress? He got to his feet and turned toward the door, so his Father wouldn't see his trembling hands.

“If I wanted to marry her, I would have proposed myself.”

“It would be bad publicity to call this off now.”

“I'm not calling it off, but I'll be making my own decisions from now on.” He heard his Father start to say something, but it was abruptly cut short by the heavy thunk of the old wooden door shutting.

Later that evening, Shingen sat in his apartment, sweat dripping face as he sat in his workout room panting. A shadow appeared from the corner and offered him a towel.

“Thanks, Kansuke.”

“Are you sure going through with the engagement is the correct thing to do?” Kansuke's level voice questioned him but his face revealed nothing.

“It's what's expected of me.” Shingen answered simply enough as he wiped the sweat from his body.

“The Harunobu I knew wouldn't do something simply because it was expected of him.” Shingen's gaze shifted to where Kansuke had been standing. “He would do it with a purpose.”

“What did you call me?” The question left as lips as he turned but Kansuke was already gone. He sat on the bench staring at his hands a moment as a warm and familiar feeling settled in his chest. There was something about Kansuke calling him that name felt... right... Like that's the way it should have been all along. Once the feeling passed, he was left with the confusion of what Kansuke meant. The more he ruminated on it the more he decided what he was going to do moving forward. First, he needed out of this engagement.

Part Two

2017: confusion, hopelessness, and silver linings

Remember on January 1st of 2017 when someone altered the Hollywood sign to say hollyweed? Well I guess we should’ve known the year would be all downhill from there.

Ok that’s not totally fair. On the world stage it was a year of highs and lows, disasters and improvements, and it’s difficult to separate the good from the bad. If I had to sum up my year, I’d label it as in confusion. World events seemed to be one disaster after another all through the year. From a rise in gun violence in the United States, to a humanitarian crisis against the Rohingya people, a catastrophe in Yemen that the rest of the world has ignored to numerous natural disasters across North America, 2017 was a year of suffering across the globe. Not to mention and an increase in oppressive and chaotic policies from world powers: pushback against free speech in China, efforts to curb internet freedom from every major world power in human civilization, Turkey’s embrace of elected dictatorship, the United States’ rollback of protection on transgender individuals, Spain’s takeover of Catalunya, Russia’s imprisonment of political opponents, a genocide against gay people in Chechnya and the United States’ pullback on climate protections. Some claimed 2016 showed a rebellion of the working class against elites, and heralded populist policies as restoring rule of the common person. 2017 showed how misguided these ideas really were.

But in the middle of all the suffering, 2017 showed us a slight glimmer of hope for us to build our futures on. As an observer of humanity, I was very enthusiastic to see the rise and popularity of the #MeToo movement—that a substantial group of people in western society are willing to listen to the claims of women against harassment, and take a stand against anyone who perpetuates this violence. And this new intolerance of sexual crimes even drifted to the most conservative parts of the united states: a (small) majority of Alabama voters were willing to put aside the politically-divisive atmosphere that they’ve cherished in the face of a candidate whose unapologetic bigotry was overshadowed by his alleged pedophilia. After a tense year in most western countries’ politics, this showed some kind of hope that people would stand together to put what is right before their own pride.

Any discussion of 2017’s silver linings would be incomplete if I didn’t mention the strides taken by Saudi Arabia’s crown prince to modernize the countries policies and eliminate corruption. From allowing women to drive, to a reopening of movie theaters, I am hopeful that the oppressive regime will continue its path towards acknowledging human rights to all people. These steps might be small, they may be small victories amidst a larger trend against human rights, but the most oppressed among us are slowly gaining their freedoms. Those people’s livelihoods are worth every struggle. Amidst a general feeling of hopelessness that has surrounded world events, we have a beautiful silver lining. That was a main theme of 2017: hope in the face of hopelessness.

I found it interesting how closely entertainment in 2017 reflected this. Memes became more ironic and cynical as the world seemed to lose its way forward. As life became more confusing and the truth seemed to drift farther away, surreal memes became popular showing the meaningless of the world. Even the newest movie in the Star Wars saga reflected our time, showing how small acts of kindness in the face of huge defeats for the resistance made the whole journey worth it, all while the film’s antihero urges us to put our losses behind us and embrace the uncertainty of the future.

Many of the reactions people had to all this trouble really bothered me, especially people who try to fight what they think is wrong, but aren’t sincere about it. I call it popular protesting, and I know I’ve played along with it sometimes. When there’s some outrage in the world, people speak out about it until its old news, and then they move on to something else. Meanwhile the people affected by the outrage are left to rot, just some pawns in a political game. It’s sick, and it has to stop. Meanwhile people totally ignore crises that are harder to take some fake moral high ground in (again why don’t more people care about the worst humanitarian crisis of the decade in Yemen?).

Of course for us, what makes a year good or bad is more about personal experience than that of world events that don’t affect us personally. And I know a lot of you had amazing years, spending time with friends and making memories. Ironically, I think my year directly mirrored the world’s. Some of the best memories of my life were formed this year, and some of the worst, I felt the general hopelessness and saw silver linings in my own life as in the world. Maybe we’re all just reflections of the world we live in, if we are willing to admit it to ourselves.

At the end of 2016, I asked a friend on Instagram what he thought the key to ethical behavior was. His response was “to accept that you are not any more special than anybody else and act accordingly.” I thought that was a pretty crappy answer at first, but I think he’s right: it takes realizing that you are no superior to anyone else to act in a way that isn’t selfish and act fairly. Everyone is just as confused and scared as you, nobody belongs anywhere, and everyone’s going to die, so you have the same consideration towards all people as you do yourself. So I went into 2017 with that attitude, spent a lot of time thinking about life, and after melding it with my previously-held beliefs, I thought I’d been enlightened or found some sort of key to life. I realize now how arrogant that was to think I had everything in my understanding. I guess if life was easy to figure out, someone else would’ve done it by now.

Here’s the thing. In Atlantis’s culture there’s something called the Jakanta, an ancient practice which refers to a way of living, where you constantly pursue a greater truth, discovering some sort of pattern to the universe. I’m not sure if there’s an allegory in human society but it’s something engrained in our history and I try to live to pursue it. For a long time I felt like I was getting closer to being firmly “enlightened” and gained understanding of reality, and then I came across information that started forcing me to dismantle what I thought were my hard-formed values. The thing is, it was my philosophy of Jakanta that was forcing me out of the ideas I’ve believed my whole life. Realizing that you’ve been wrong and letting go of your so-called sacred cows is probably the scariest thing a person can do. And it didn’t make me happier or feel liberated or anything, it only made my life more chaotic and confusing. Because I loved being that old Hep. That Hep was so passionate and driven, felt wise and validated, like I was going somewhere. I bet if that Hep met me now he would never guess I was once him. Maybe that Hep would rather die than become me, see me as some empty and purposeless shell. But the ironic part is that I came directly from that Hep’s way of thinking.

Anyone who has talked to me at any length knows I’m a more than a little obsessive about the concept of identity (If y’all want, maybe I’ll write a long paper about all I’ve learned about it someday). That’s one of the main reasons I’ve kept my account all these years lol, because constantly being asked who I am by all of you forces me to think about identity and I still don’t have it completely figured out. But this is what 2017 taught me: what defines you isn’t your beliefs or knowledge, because that is constantly changing (either that or you die stupid, like your politicians). Rather I think that what forms a person’s identity is how they think and allow themselves to grow. What are they willing to question? Do they have faith in something? I guess the beliefs that define your identity are the ones about how to grow, not conceptions of the world. So if any of us want to improve, we need to start by adopting a better way of thinking.

So this begs the question, is my way of thinking even good? Obviously questioning and overanalyzing everything like I do didn’t do me any favors, basically destroying whatever walls I’d built up to keep me sane! I feel like after the past year I’ve lost touch with a lot of reality, just drifting through some abstract space I don’t understand. Maybe I’ve gone insane, probably, even. But at least I am authentic to myself. Because it’s so easy to delude yourself, and I’m constantly worried that I’m pushing reality away in exchange for what I’d rather be true to feel secure and accepted. You can convince yourself of anything you want, if it makes you feel good. Maybe if “ignorance is bliss” I should just forget the whole thing and delude myself into whatever is comfortable. For several months I’ve been wrestling with a simple question: if knowing some truth makes me unhappy and sets my life askew, is it worth knowing? I’ve asked a ton of friends about this (thanks y’all). One of them told me what I’d feared: my good friend told me that nobody can never escape ignorance, so learning isn’t relevant. She told me that it’s best to live entirely in faith and not question things that may lead me down questionable paths. My gut reaction was to reject that, but I didn’t understand why. Because she’s right, I will never achieve complete understanding, I know it as did the monks who established the Jakanta in Atlantis 3000 years ago. Was it time to topple that final pillar of my identity and exchange pursuing knowledge for a blissful life?  

It took me a while to come up with a good answer: knowledge builds wisdom, and that helps others. A happy life lived only for itself is no meaningful life. However, I can use my understanding of the world to help others who are struggling with similar situations, and not often, but maybe, I can change someone’s life for the better. If I can help just someone, all the unhappiness in the world is worth suffering. How selfish is willful ignorance! Only those who suffer can sympathize with others. That’s why every religion claims their central figure “suffered in every way.” I’m no more special than anyone else, so if I can help someone through real physical struggles, my mental confusion is worth every second of it. So then knowledge doesn’t always make you happy, but it always makes you better.

See I don’t know when I’ll die. I’m just lucky to have survived for as long as I have. I think I don’t value that enough: I need to make a difference while I still can, in the name of those who didn’t make it through the past year. And most importantly, when my time comes I want to die where I stood, following what I believed in. I don’t want to die complacent, like a former hero who has become irrelevant while his work is undone. That’s why I try so hard to keep improving myself, so that I can pursue what I believe till the very end. Life is too short to check out and stop helping people.

I’m realize I’m rambling, and maybe you’re trying to think up some platitude to respond to me, but I assure you that’s the last way I want you to react. This is not at all a plea for sympathy or some way to evangelize my ideas to you, I’m just putting out there what I’m thinking because maybe it will help someone think. And because everyone always asks me what my “true identity” is: well, this is it. I’m Hep, because that’s how I choose to grow.

Is happiness a lost cause for those of us who question everything like I think is right? I thought so at first. But my good friend Taylor made a point that gave me hope: she says that whatever contentment I lost because of what I’ve learned this year will surely pass. Everyone knows that people resist change, that much has been obvious over the last two years. Missing my old state of mind and feeling less happy about life becoming chaotic and confusing is just that same fear of change. If I embrace the chaos, I’ll eventually find that contentment again. I expect this cycle of understanding and confusion will continue throughout my life. Thinking I know myself, losing it, and moving on. Maybe it will bring with it waves of depression or confusion, but all is worth it because with each cycle I will be better equipped to help others. And so out of this cycle of hopelessness and chaos, I have my silver lining.

You know, seems poetic to me that America, in a year full of politically-charged anger, would experience a full solar eclipse. As some of you know, I made the trek out from Atlantis to middle America to see the full eclipse, and maybe those of you who didn’t do the same will not understand this at all. When the full eclipse began, and the sky had darkened, a cold wind rolled over the plains relieving from a hot summer afternoon and the sun became a beautiful iridescent ring, circling a brilliant silver sphere of the moon. It hovered there in the sky, and for a minute it seemed to give peace to everything beneath it. I was reminded of the words of a certain future empress of Atlantis, 19 years old at the time, nearly 2500 years ago. “When nature reveals to us its full glory, it challenges us to imprint its beauty upon our souls.” She said this while leading a rebellion against a violent and oppressive government that ruled Atlantis, a movement which would result in the restructure of our government and issue in an era of prosperity, peace and stability. To me, the eclipse was a reminder that life and society are improved not by opposing anger with anger, but by individuals each harboring a determined peace and understanding as the foundation of their souls.

This thought is by no means original in the current climate, but while these ideas are often used as tropes to make the user feel righteous they are blatantly ignored in practice. Maybe many of them try to live by it. I know I’ve failed at applying this idea many times, because anger is such an easier response to fear and confusion than temperance and self-examination. It is my challenge to keep improving myself to approach this, and I expect I will continue pursuing this goal for the rest of my life.

I’m not a believer in new years resolutions. You can keep your “new year new me” crap, because one week in, you’ll realize you have no means to achieve your goals, give up and be twice the slob you were beforehand. Heck I bet a handful of you already gave up. Because you can’t just change your habits and beliefs on a whim, all you can hope to do is make an effort to grow. So in that spirit I’m giving myself a challenge to give myself a direction to improve. I probably will fail to follow it many times, but that’s okay as long as I keep trying.

Here’s my challenge, to start the year. For one, I’m not going to fall into the trap of popular protesting. If something bad is going on, I’ll either keep spreading awareness and don’t stop until it’s fixed—no letting go when the public stops caring—or I’ll let someone else carry the fight. There’s nothing worse than an insincere activist. And if someone is being unethical it does me no good to hate on them. The best reaction is to behave in the way opposite of them, acting positively instead of negatively. As my man Ghandi once said, you gotta be the change you wish to see in the world. I think I’m going to try to cut judgement out of my life altogether: whenever something happens or someone says an idea, my first reaction is often to identify it as good or bad. Just like I’m not a fan of names, I’m not a fan of those labels, and I’ll work to stop that response in myself. Every time you label something, you keep it from being properly questioned, and that’s unhealthy for me. And finally, as always, I will try to be a decent person, try to make an impact on those around me and work to acquire knowledge and improve my thinking.

That’s where I’m going in the next year. I’m not asking you to agree with it or adopt the same challenge, but I hope you ask yourself where you want to grow. Every day is another step in the journey to make yourself authentic, and I hope you all live to be the best versions of yourselves. Don’t be afraid to leave your pasts behind and look to the future, always find ways to be kind, and never stop questioning your thoughts.

Hep out.

On sending kids to school during the Corona Virus pandemic

From Drea Leed on Facebook: This was written by an FCPS parent and he has given permission to share it. It’s a long read, but if you are a parent or a teacher trying to decide what is the best choice for your children (and preference for yourself), it’s worth the time to read it. It’s incredibly powerful:

From Joe Morice, daughters in 8th & 10th grade in our Centreville Pyramid:

To our fellow FCPS families, this is it gang, 5 days until the 2 days in school vs. 100% virtual decision. Let’s talk it out, in my traditional mammoth TL/DR form.

Like all of you, I’ve seen my feed become a flood of anxiety and faux expertise. You’ll get no presumption of expertise here. This is how I am looking at and considering this issue and the positions people have taken in my feed and in the hundred or so FCPS discussion groups that have popped up. The lead comments in quotes are taken directly from my feed and those boards. Sometimes I try to rationalize them. Sometimes I’m just punching back at the void.

Full disclosure, we initially chose the 2 days option and are now having serious reservations. As I consider the positions and arguments I see in my feed, these are where my mind goes. Of note, when I started working on this piece at 12:19 PM today the COVID death tally in the United States stood at 133,420.

“My kids want to go back to school.”

I challenge that position. I believe what the kids desire is more abstract. I believe what they want is a return to normalcy. They want their idea of yesterday. And yesterday isn’t on the menu.

“I want my child in school so they can socialize.”

This was the principle reason for our 2 days decision. As I think more on it though, what do we think ‘social’ will look like? There aren’t going to be any lunch table groups, any lockers, any recess games, any study halls, any sitting next to friends, any talking to people in the hallway, any dances. All of that is off the menu. So, when we say that we want the kids to benefit from the social experience, what are we deluding ourselves into thinking in-building socialization will actually look like in the Fall?

“My kid is going to be left behind.”

Left behind who? The entire country is grappling with the same issue, leaving all children in the same quagmire. Who exactly would they be behind? I believe the rhetorical answer to that is “They’ll be behind where they should be,” to which I’ll counter that “where they should be” is a fictional goal post that we as a society have taken as gospel because it maps to standardized tests which are used to grade schools and counties as they chase funding.

“Classrooms are safe.”

At the current distancing guidelines from FCPS middle and high schools would have no more than 12 people (teachers + students) in a classroom (I acknowledge this number may change as FCPS considers the Commonwealth’s 3 ft with a mask vs. 6 ft position, noting that FCPS is all mask regardless of the distance). For the purpose of this discussion we’ll say classes run 45 minutes.

I posed the following question to 40 people today, representing professional and management roles in corporations, government agencies, and military commands: “Would your company or command have a 12 person, 45 minute meeting in a conference room?”

100% of them said no, they would not. These are some of their answers:

“No. Until further notice we are on Zoom.” “(Our company) doesn’t allow us in (company space).” “Oh hell no.” “No absolutely not.” “Is there a percentage lower than zero?” “Something of that size would be virtual.”

We do not even consider putting our office employees into the same situation we are contemplating putting our children into. And let’s drive this point home: there are instances here when commanding officers will not put soldiers, ACTUAL SOLDIERS, into the kind of indoor environment we’re contemplating for our children. For me this is as close to a ‘kill shot’ argument as there is in this entire debate. How do we work from home because buildings with recycled air are not safe, because we don’t trust other people to not spread the virus, and then with the same breath send our children into buildings?

“Children only die .0016 of the time.”

First, conceding we’re an increasingly morally bankrupt society, but when did we start talking about children’s lives, or anyone’s lives, like this? This how the villain in movies talks about mortality, usually 10-15 minutes before the good guy kills him.

If you’re in this camp, and I acknowledge that many, many people are, I’m asking you to consider that number from a slightly different angle.

FCPS has 189,000 children. .0016 of that is 302. 302 dead children are the Calvary Hill you’re erecting your argument on. So, let’s agree to do this: stop presenting this as a data point. If this is your argument, I challenge you to have courage equal to your conviction. Go ahead, plant a flag on the internet and say, “Only 302 children will die.” No one will. That’s the kind action on social media that gets you fired from your job. And I trust our social media enclave isn’t so careless and irresponsible with life that it would even, for even a millisecond, enter any of your minds to make such an argument.

Considered another way: You’re presented with a bag with 189,000 $1 bills. You’re told that in the bag are 302 random bills, they look and feel just like all the others, but each one of those bills will kill you. Do you take the money out of the bag?

Same argument, applied to the 12,487 teachers in FCPS (per Wikipedia), using the ‘children’s multiplier’ of .0016 (all of us understanding the adult mortality rate is higher). That’s 20 teachers. That’s the number you’re talking about. It’s very easy to sit behind a keyboard and diminish and dismiss the risk you’re advocating other people assume. Take a breath and think about that.

If you want to advocate for 2 days a week, look, I’m looking for someone to convince me. But please, for the love of God, drop things like this from your argument. Because the people I know who’ve said things like this, I know they’re better people than this. They’re good people under incredible stress who let things slip out as their frustration boils over. So, please do the right thing and move on from this, because one potential outcome is that one day, you’re going to have to stand in front of St. Peter and answer for this, and that’s not going to be conversation you enjoy.

“Hardly any kids get COVID.”

(Deep sigh) Yes, that is statistically true as of this writing. But it is a cherry-picked argument because you’re leaving out an important piece.

One can reasonably argue that, due to the school closures in March, children have had the least EXPOSURE to COVID. In other words, closing schools was the one pandemic mitigation action we took that worked. There can be no discussion of the rate of diagnosis within children without also acknowledging they were among our fastest and most quarantined people. Put another way, you cannot cite the effect without acknowledging the cause.

“The flu kills more people every year.”

(Deep sigh). First of all, no, it doesn’t. Per the CDC, United States flu deaths average 20,000 annually. COVID, when I start writing here today, has killed 133,420 in six months.

And when you mention the flu, do you mean the disease that, if you’re suspected of having it, everyone, literally everyone in the country tells you stay the f- away from other people? You mean the one where parents are pretty sure their kids have it but send them to school anyway because they have a meeting that day, the one that every year causes massive f-ing outbreaks in schools because schools are petri dishes and it causes kids to miss weeks of school and leaves them out of sports and band for a month? That one? Because you’re right - the flu kills people every year. It does, but you’re ignoring the why. It’s because there are people who are a--holes who don’t care about infecting other people. In that regard it’s a perfect comparison to COVID.

“Almost everyone recovers.”

You’re confusing “release from the hospital” and “no longer infected” with “recovered.” I’m fortunate to only know two people who have had COVID. One my age and one my dad’s age. The one my age described it as “absolute hell” and although no longer infected cannot breathe right. The one my dad’s age was in the hospital for 13 weeks, had to have a trach ring put in because she could no longer be on a ventilator, and upon finally getting home and being faced with incalculable time in rehab told my mother, “I wish I had died.”

While I’m making every effort to reach objectivity, on this particular point, you don’t know what the f- you’re talking about.

“If people get sick, they get sick.”

First, you mistyped. What you intended to say was “If OTHER people get sick, they get sick.” And shame on you.

“I’m not going to live my life in fear.”

You already live your life in fear. For your health, your family’s health, your job, your retirement, terrorists, extremists, one political party or the other being in power, the new neighbors, an unexpected home repair, the next sunrise. What you meant to say was, “I’m not prepared to add ANOTHER fear,” and I’ve got news for you: that ship has sailed. It’s too late. There are two kinds of people, and only two: those that admit they’re afraid, and those that are lying to themselves about it.

As to the fear argument, fear is the reason you wait up when your kids stay out late, it’s the reason you tell your kids not to dive in the shallow water, to look both ways before crossing the road. Fear is the respect for the wide world that we teach our children. Except in this instance, for reasons no one has been able to explain to me yet.

“FCPS leadership sucks.”

I will summarize my view of the School Board thusly: if the 12 of you aren’t getting into a room together because it represents a risk, don’t tell me it’s OK for our kids. I understand your arguments, that we need the 2 days option for parents who can’t work from home, kids who don’t have internet or computer access, kids who needs meals from the school system, kids who need extra support to learn, and most tragically for kids who are at greater risk of abuse by being home. All very serious, all very real issues, all heartbreaking. No argument.

But you must first lead by example. Because you’re failing when it comes to optics. All your meetings are online. What our children see is all of you on a Zoom telling them it’s OK for them to be exactly where you aren’t. I understand you’re not PR people, but you really should think about hiring some.

“I talked it over with my kids.” Let’s put aside for a moment the concept of adults effectively deferring this decision to children, the same children who will continue to stuff things into a full trash can rather than change it out. Yes, those hygienic children.

Listen, my 15 year old daughter wants a sport car, which she’s not getting next year because it would be dangerous to her and to others. Those kinds of decisions are our job. We step in and decide as parents, we don’t let them expose themselves to risks because their still developing and screen addicted brains narrow their understanding of cause and effect.

We as parents and adults serve to make difficult decisions. Sometimes those are in the form of lessons, where we try to steer kids towards the right answer and are willing to let them make a mistake in the hopes of teaching better decision making the next time around. This is not one of those moments. The stakes are too high for that. This is a “the adults are talking” moment. Kids are not mature enough for this moment. That is not an attack on your child. It is a broad statement about all children. It is true of your children and it was true when we were children. We need to be doing that thinking here, and “Johnny wants to see Bobby at school” cannot be the prevailing element in the equation.

“The teachers need to do their job.” How is it that the same society which abruptly shifted to virtual students only three months ago, and offered glowing endorsements of teachers stating, “we finally understand how difficult your job is,” has now shifted to “screw you, do your job.” There are myriad problems with that position but for the purposes of this piece let’s simply go with, “You’re not looking for a teacher, you’re looking for the babysitter you feel your property tax payment entitles you to.”

“Teachers have a greater chance to being killed by a car than they do of dying from COVID.”

(Eye roll) Per the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS), the U.S. see approximately 36,000 auto fatalities a year. Again, there have been 133,420 COVID deaths in the United States through 12:09 July 10, 2020. So no, they do not have a great chance of being killed in a car accident.

And, if you want to take the actual environment into consideration, the odds of a teacher being killed in a car accident in their classroom, you know, the environment we’re actually talking about, that’s right around 0%.

“If the grocery store workers can be onsite what are the teachers afraid of?”

(Deep breath) A grocery store worker, who absolutely risks exposure, has either six feet of space or a plexiglass shield between them and individual adult customers who can grasp their own mortality whose transactions can be completed in moments, in a 40,000 SF space.

A teacher is with 11 ‘customers’ who have not an inkling what mortality is, for 45 minutes, in a 675 SF space, six times a day.

Just stop.

“Teachers are choosing remote because they don’t want to work.”

(Deep breaths) Many teachers are opting to be remote. That is not a vacation. They’re requesting to do their job at a safer site. Just like many, many people who work in buildings with recycled air have done. And likely the building you’re not going into has a newer and better serviced air system than our schools.

Of greater interest to me is the number of teachers choosing the 100% virtual option for their children. The people who spend the most time in the buildings are the same ones electing not to send their children into those buildings. That’s something I pay attention to.

“I wasn’t prepared to be a parent 24/7” and “I just need a break.”

I truly, deeply respect that honesty. Truth be told, both arguments have crossed my mind. Pre COVID, I routinely worked from home 1 – 2 days a week. The solace was nice. When I was in the office, I had an actual office, a room with a door I could close, where I could focus. During the quarantine that hasn’t always been the case. I’ve been frustrated, I’ve been short, I’ve gone to just take a drive and get the hell away for a moment and been disgusted when one of the kids sees me and asks me to come for a ride, robbing me of those minutes of silence. You want to hear silence. I get it. I really, really do.

Here’s another version of that, admittedly extreme. What if one of our kids becomes one of the 302? What’s that silence going to sound like? What if you have one of those matted frames where you add the kid’s school picture every year? What if you don’t get to finish the pictures?

“What does your gut tell you to do?”

Shawn and I have talked ad infinitum about all of these and other points. Two days ago, at mid-discussion I said, “Stop, right now, gut answer, what is it,” and we both said, “virtual.”

A lot of the arguments I hear people making for the 2 days sound like we’re trying to talk ourselves into ignoring our instincts, they are almost exclusively, “We’re doing 2 days, but…”. There’s a fantastic book by Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear, which I’ll minimize for you thusly: your gut instinct is a hardwired part of your brain and you should listen to it. In the introduction he talks about elevators, and how, of all living things, humans are the only ones that would voluntarily get into a soundproof steel box with a potential predator just so they could skip a flight of stairs.

I keep thinking that the 2 days option is the soundproof steel box. I welcome, damn, beg, anyone to convince me otherwise.

At the time I started writing at 12:09 PM, 133,420 Americans had died from COVID. Upon completing this draft at 7:04 PM, that number rose to 133,940.

520 Americans died of COVID while I was working on this. In seven hours.

The length of a school day.

**************************************************************

Fairfax County, Virginia Public Schools

[okay it ate my post once so sorry if this posts twice, but I!!! totally forgot about this but i had started writing this for you i think in the second year we knew each other (i know it was before i confessed i liked you) as an xmas present but i didn’t finish it in time and then forgot about it, but i liked this idea you had about halle and nat that you had explained to me re: college au! It’s still technically unfinished i guess but i think it’s like 99% done so HERE A VERY SEVERAL YEARS LATE PRESENT LMAO] working title was Belief/Doubt + Unrealities “I believe you,” Halvard says, scrawny and unsmiling, curling his fingers around hers. He believes all of it, the stories Natalia tells of how her mother haunts her, how her ghost lingers and watches over her, visiting and then dissipating back into the folds of reality. He bows his head and takes the honor of protecting her secret seriously, “I believe you,” he repeats, before adding, “because I see things too.” So their summers fill with the search for fairies, elves, trolls, things that Halvard knows are real, and the sight of a woman standing in the doorway and beckoning for her daughter and friend to come closer. --------- She tells him what her mother says to her, what she does, and when her head turns to the doorway and she grows quiet Halvard doesn’t need to ask what she’s looking at. It’s fine to let them communicate, to let her look at her mother passes through. He’ll continue whatever game they were playing without her, rolling the dice and taking her turns for her, diligently, but occasionally cheating when she walks over to stand in the empty doorframe and wave her little hand goodbye. He has no proof that her mother watches over them and she has no proof of his claims. But as children, they don’t doubt each other. They don’t entirely realize the gravity of their situations, their home lives, and how they’ll grow up realizing that neither of them are normal, neither of their lives are normal, nor is any of it fair. You have to cling to something, something that grounds you, and for them it’s each other and their belief. --------- She’s taller than him for a long time, then he outgrows her. His bones ache and when he comes over he often accidentally falls asleep in her bed while she reads books he’s brought her. She knows about the nights when he doesn’t sleep and throws rocks at his window so he can pull it open and help her inside. Sometimes she’ll lie next to him and they’ll just talk. As easy as it is to talk to each other it’s easiest to confess your greatest worries and fears in the dark, where you can’t see anything but faint light from the moon. He always thanks her for this, later, quietly. She catches up to him in height, then gains an inch on him. He grows his hair out for a little while and she recalls the time when they were much younger, when he gave her a haircut and chopped off all of her long hair, letting it fall like waves onto the floor. “You still owe me for that,” she says, and Halvard allows her to give him a bad haircut in return. It’s only fair, Natalia says, and he agrees. She falls asleep on his shoulder and he pays it no mind. ----------- She tries to be a good daughter, like her mother expects her to be, like her mother tells her to be through closed, silent, dead lips. She tells Halvard the expectations stacked on top of her, how hard it is sometimes, how she wishes to run away into the woods with him so they could live together in secret like that talked of as kids. He listens, he’s a good listener, his gaze is harsh but his eyes are gentle to her, they’ve always been gentle to her. He’ll always be gentle with her, he says, and she says that’s a lie, recalling times in their youth when he’s pulled on her hair or when she’s punched him in the gut. “But I appreciate it, even if it’s a lie,” she smiles. ------------- He tries to be a good son, a good brother, but every year he sleeps less and less and and the dark circles under his eyes grow darker and darker. ------------------ There’s more important things to concern himself with than with the unreal so he unravels false truths from his perception and adapts his world view. And she believes there is nothing more important than world where her mother still lives on, even in death. They make comments in passing at each other but they don’t talk about it. ------------- His breaking point is like flame to candle wax, not so much an eruption as it is a slow burn, melting away to reveal fragile, loose liquid that has no structure to hold it, and she stands three paces away and makes no attempt to catch any part of him. He paces, then sits, gripping at his chest through the fabric of his shirt and pours his feelings across the floor, he’s crying and she’s crying but she’s crying while standing, while still, and when they try to repeat to each other the same words that they have since they’ve been children, the same script that they know helps, it doesn’t help, because the system has been broken for a while now and neither of them want to admit it needs to be updated. Natalia thinks that he’s changed too much and Halvard thinks that she’s not changed enough. She makes outdated comments and Halvard gestures wildly, the heat of frustration and anguish enveloping his entire body, bursting from his small body and leaving him breathless. “Nat, it’s not real! None of it is real! it’s never been real!” he screams as loud as his rough, muted voice can muster. Don’t you see? Don’t you see that we’ve been wrong this whole time, that we’ve been lying to ourselves because escapism was the only way to deal with our home lives, with everything about the world except for each other? And I can’t do this anymore, I can’t keep lying to myself when I can so clearly see now that we’ve only ever been a pair of fucked up children who made up illusions just to feel safe again. I can’t believe anymore, Natalia, because I think it’s dangerous, I know it’s unreal, and I am filled with so much doubt and there is nothing you can do to ever change my mind. “Halle, you know better, you know that it’s real!” She’ll insist and insist and insist but she cannot pressure him into a passive corner, she cannot get him to see the truth, she cannot rip out her eyes and give them to him and get him to see that what she believes is true without a second question, that even as they fight here her mother is there with him, she’s right next to you Halle, can’t you see that, don’t you feel it, you used to tell me that you felt her, that you saw her, so why are you insisting this. Why are you doubting me, the only good friend you’ve ever had? Even after they emotionally exhaust themselves, even after they both admit neither of them can go on arguing without resting their weary souls, there is no resolution. There’s no resolution to their other fights, they just keep chiseling away at each other with their weapons named logic and faith in search of opposing truths. So she stops telling him about the things she sees, about the messages she receives from beyond the grave, about her mother. -------- She won’t falter, but the betrayal of the person that she’s come to trust with all of her secrets sows seeds of doubting, and while they don’t shake her foundation she’ll hear Halvard’s voice wrap around her thoughts like tendrils, taking root there, and sometimes she wonders if he’s right. ------- And he won’t mention that he still sees shadowy figures looking at him from far away out of the corner of his eyes, there and then gone the moment he shifts his harsh glare in their direction. They’re illusions, fictitious, invented by his eyes because he is tired, he’s just so tired these days and his exhaustion deceives him. His senses have always had a poor grip on reality and it’s only natural that they delude him. These unrealities, they are only due to our brains patching together wires that were never meant to cross. His brain was built to be skeptical and there’s a small part of him that eats away at him as he tries to sleep, it’s a part of him that says, “Halle, what if you are wrong?” What if you’re wrong about everything? Seeing ghosts is just a way to deal with trauma that the self cannot handle. But Halle. What if you’re wrong? --------------------- And he loves her, he’s always loved her so much, and there will always be so many parts about her that he admires, and even though he’ll snark about her, tease her a little to her face, she will always be so important to him.

--------------

And she loves him, she’s always loved him so much, and she feels the same way.

----------------

There’s ultimately a question of values: what is more important, to be right, or to accept untruths because you love?

And you can certainly love and have the desire to be right, love is not always gentle but like a surgeon’s knife that cuts you into precise ribbons.

----------------

“Even if I don’t believe, Nat,” he says, “I still have faith in you.”

“And I still have faith in you, Halle,” she says, “even though you doubt.”

I Watched My Ex Fall In Love With Someone Else On Facebook.

Keeping tabs on him via social media became a form of self-inflicted torture that I just couldn't quit.

- A text by Kristen King.

We broke up in the parking lot of an Uno Pizzeria in Boston.

He wanted to settle down. He wanted kids and a good job and a yard for a dog to run in. I wanted New York. And London. And maybe Thailand for a year or two. I wanted to write and to live in a shitty apartment and to be in love in a tumultuous way. I was barely 21; I didn't want it to be easy yet.

We ordered two individual deep-dish pizzas to go and sat in his car eating them in silence. We told ourselves it would be nice not to tip, or to listen to the bad '90s songs they played inside the restaurant, but maybe it was just nice to not talk for a while.

"Something isn't right," I said.

"Did they give you the wrong sauce?" He looked at me with a face of genuine concern that reminded me why I loved him.

"No. Not the pizza. Us," I said.

A spot of red sauce crept down his chin. Without permission, I wiped it away with my thumb.

Through tears, we sat in the car making promises we couldn't keep, our cold pizza unattended at our feet.

Maybe in a couple years, we promised each other.

I held onto that longer than I should have.

It was my justification three months later as I clicked through his Facebook profile late at night. I just want to see how he is, I told myself. I wonder if he's found that job yet, I reasoned. I wonder if his parents are still in good health.

I always had a good reason for going back.

Their first photograph together was taken at a party.

At least I can assume it was a party from the red Solo cup she held and his tipsy half-smile — the same one I used to tease him about. His fingers were wrapped around her waist and as I stared at my computer screen I tried not to think about how I used to feel when he put his hands the same place on me.

Maybe they're just friends. Did he know her while we were dating? I wonder if they spent the night together.

I'm not allowed to care, I reminded myself. But I did. I slammed my laptop shut. I was done torturing myself for one night. But when I fell asleep, I dreamed of him.

It was winter. Dirty snow lined the parking lot of the 7-Eleven where we bought papers to roll joints. As we leaned against the car I could feel the cold spreading through my body from the soles of my feet.

He exhaled purposefully onto me, his cloud of hot breath drifting toward me.

Like any dreamscape, it wasn't quite right. The plotline didn't make sense. Why were we standing outside rather than walking in? Why were we driving my mother's car instead of his? Why wasn't he wearing a jacket?

Why were we still together?

I took my hands out of my gloves and put them under his shirt, finding my way to his chest. He winced and then smiled at me.

"I'm just here to warm your extremities, aren't I?" he said.

"Maybe," I said, grinning.

I woke up cold, searching for him in my bed.

That brief moment after waking was always the worst. That moment when I felt like the dream was reality — like maybe we never broke up at all. That moment when I willed myself back to sleep, wishing nothing more than to return to my hand on his chest. That moment where I remembered so easily what it felt like to love and to be loved that it seemed impossible it wasn't true anymore.

I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and started scrolling through his Twitter. I needed to be with him, in whatever capacity I could. As I read the words on my screen I could hear his voice so clearly. I imagined him laughing at his own joke before posting it and smiled at the thought. I could hear his voice so easily that for a moment my bed didn't feel quite so empty.

Six months after we broke up, there was another photo: him and the girl with the red Solo cup at a baseball game. My stomach twisted as I realized she was destined to become a recurring character in his life. I scrolled through the photos of them together, each holding a drink. I wondered if she liked sports, or if she was more interested in the overpriced beers and hot dogs like I was. I wondered if she enjoyed remarking on the tightness of the player's pants, or discussing the blood alcohol content of the people around her. I wondered if they were having fun.

Seeing them together, with their easy smiles and full cups, it still didn't register that he had moved on.

Maybe in a couple of years — that promise came back to me too easily. I didn't want him now, but I didn't think that meant I couldn't have him ever.

I couldn't digest that he could fall in love with someone else while I still loved him. At that point, I didn't understand love could be one-sided like that. I couldn't imagine he told her the things he told me, or looked at her the same way.

In my deluded state, I actually felt sorry for her. This poor girl's boyfriend is in love with his ex, I thought. It's funny how easy it is to believe the unbelievable when it hurts less.

I pictured him lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing the girl lying next to him was me. It was easier to imagine he was sleeplessly staring at walls, searching for me in his bed, than to believe the truth: He wasn't thinking of me at all.

The internet told me a lot about her. It told me she was beautiful and smart. It told me she was social and her smile made her seem kind. I wanted to hate her, but I couldn't.

She took pictures with children and smiled wholeheartedly in photos. She laughed in a way that seemed authentic. She looked like the kind of girl who didn't take long to get ready.

I looked at her profile and then went back to my own, attempting to step outside of myself and act as an unbiased judge between the two of us. I looked at our profiles and saw all the things we had in common, and all the things we did not. My face was more angular and sharper than hers, my hair a little less blonde. My smile didn't come as easily, except in the photos in which I was with him. She volunteered more than I did, but I seemed to get outdoors more. She looked like she came from money, and I looked like I was living on hand-me-downs and budgeted grocery lists. We had our differences but we also had our overarching similarities: We both loved our family, our friends, and the same guy.

Months passed and I watched them tag each other in photos and their relationship status change. I cringed as they exchanged banter on Twitter and speculated what their jokes were about. I noticed when she became friends with his sisters and took a photo with his mother. I saw him wearing the watch I bought him as he stood next to her on a vacation they took together. I saw them driving in the car we kissed in — the car we broke up in.

I saw their relationship go the places ours had gone and to places it had not.

I wondered if they fought. I wondered if the things he did that annoyed me bothered her in the same way. I wondered if she wanted the big yard and the good job, too.

I could have stopped looking at any time, but it was addicting. I wanted to know what happened next. I wanted to see if it worked out. Or maybe I wanted to see if it didn't.

Despite my self-inflicted torture, I didn't reach out to him.

I still wanted New York. And London. And maybe Thailand for a year or two. Nothing had changed. But I liked seeing photos of that toothy grin. I liked when he made a goofy face or wasn't ready for a picture. He reminded me what it felt like to love someone, and I liked that part of myself.

We were both spiraling off in vastly different directions, but I still felt an inexplicable pull toward him. It was nice having him be so accessible, even if he wasn't.

I didn't fancy myself a stalker, though maybe that's what I was — leering through the virtual windowpane of someone else's happy life. I guess I just thought if I could see him on that 13-inch computer screen, then maybe he was still with me in a way, maybe I wasn't alone, maybe I was loved. Maybe he was looking, too.

As time passed, I visited him less often. And when I did concede, the twist of the knife was not as sharp. Instead, it felt like the prodding of a dull familiar wound, one that leaves its mark, but the pain is felt more from memory than from anything else.

Eventually, I went an hour without thinking of him, then a few hours, then a day, then a week, then a month.

When I visit his profile now, the sting isn't as sharp. I am proud of him when he finds success in his career, and I am sad for him when someone he knows dies. I am happy for him for being in love.

I am glad for the girl with the red Solo cup for finding such a good man.

Maybe he's different now. Maybe he doesn't snort when he laughs, or fold his pizza into a sandwich before eating it. Maybe I don't know him at all. But still, visiting him reminds me that I am capable of love, and that I am worthy of love. It reminds me that when you truly care for another person, it never really goes away.