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ldknightshade · 1 month

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morality: a character creation guide

creating and understanding your oc’s personal moral code! no, i cannot tell you whether they’re gonna come out good or bad or grey; that part is up to you.

anyway, let’s rock.

i. politics

politics are a good way to indicate things your character values, especially when it comes to large-scale concepts such as government, community, and humanity as a whole.

say what you will about either image; i’d argue for the unintiated, the right image is a good introduction to some lesser discussed ideologies… some of which your oc may or may not fall under.

either way, taking a good look at your character’s values on the economic + social side of things is a good place to start, as politics are something that, well… we all have ‘em, you can’t avoid ‘em.

clearly, this will have to be adjusted for settings that utilize other schools of thought (such as fantasy + historical fiction and the divine right of kings), but again, economic/social scale plotting will be a good start for most.

ii. religion + philosophy

is your oc religious? do they believe in a form of higher power? do they follow some sort of philosophy?

are they devout? yes, this applies to non-religious theist and atheist characters as well; in the former’s case… is their belief in a higher power something that guides many of their actions or is their belief in a higher power something that only informs a few of their actions? for the atheists; do they militant anti-theists who believe atheism is the only way and that religion is harmful? or do they not care about religion, so long as it’s thrust upon them?

for the religious: what is your oc’s relationship with the higher power in question? are they very progressive by their religion’s standards or more orthodox? how well informed of their own religion are they?

does your oc follow a particular school of philosophical thought? how does that interact with their religious identification?

iii. values

by taking their political stance and their religious + philosophical stance, you have a fairly good grasp on the things your character values.

is there anything they value - due to backstory, or what they do, or what they love - that isn’t explained by political stance and religious and/or philosophical identification? some big players here will likely be your oc’s culture and past.

of everything you’ve determined they value, what do they value the most?

iv. “the line”

everyone draws it somewhere. we all have a line we won’t cross, no matter the lengths we go for what we believe is a noble cause. where does your character draw it? how far will they go for something they truly believe is a noble cause? as discussed in part iii of my tips for morally grey characters,

would they lie? cheat? steal? manipulate? maim? what about commit acts of vandalism? arson? would they kill?

but even when we have a line, sometimes we make exceptions for a variety of reasons. additionally, there are limits to some of the lengths we’d go to.

find your character’s line, their limits and their exceptions.

v. objectivism/relativism

objectivism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “an ethical theory that moral good is objectively real or that moral precepts are objectively valid.”

relativism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “a view that ethical truths depend on the individuals and groups holding them.”

what take on morality, as a concept, does your character have? is morality objective? is morality subjective?

we could really delve deep into this one, but this post is long enough that i don’t think we need to get into philosophical rambling… so this is a good starting point.

either way, exploring morality as a concept and how your character views it will allow for better application of their personal moral code.

vi. application

so, now you know what they believe and have a deep understanding of your character’s moral code, all that’s left is to apply it and understand how it informs their actions while taking their personality into account.

and interesting thing to note is that we are all hypocrites; you don’t have to do this, but it might be fun to play around with the concept of their moral code and add a little bit of hypocrisy to their actions as a treat.

either way, how do your character’s various beliefs interact? how does it make them interact with the world? with others? with their friends, family, and community? with their government? with their employment? with their studies? with the earth and environment itself?

in conclusion:

there’s a lot of things that inform one’s moral compass and i will never be able to touch on them all; however, this should hopefully serve as at least a basic guide.

#ldknightshade.txt #writing #writing tips #creative writing #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writing advice #writing help #how to write #writing tumblr #writeblr

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zombiefuckrr · 1 year

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my bf may not be perfect but when I was telling him about "you never forget the first cute neighbor boy you bullied" and he said "I wouldn't know I never bullied anyone" and I responded "Yeah you seem more like prey to me" he did NOT run away so. If he survives I think he may be the one

#ftr i dont condone bullying. the neighbor boy started it i was just stronger than him #and as a tiny angry egg i had a lot to prove vis a vis annoying boys who were bigger than me #of course it helped that it was an excuse for intricate rituals #anyway this one gets excited when i threaten to kill and maim and eat him >:) he's delectable #mine

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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months

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A taxonomy of corporate bullshit

Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

There are six lies that corporations have told since time immemorial, and Nick Hanauer, Joan Walsh and Donald Cohen's new book Corporate Bullsht: Exposing the Lies and Half-Truths That Protect Profit, Power, and Wealth in America* provides an essential taxonomy of this dirty six:

https://thenewpress.com/books/corporate-bullsht

In his review for The American Prospect, David Dayen summarizes how these six lies "offer a civic-minded, reasonable-sounding justification for positions that in fact are motivated entirely by self-interest":

https://prospect.org/culture/books/2023-10-27-lies-my-corporation-told-me-hanauer-walsh-cohen-review/

I. Pure denial

As far back as the slave trade, corporate apologists and mouthpieces have led by asserting that true things are false, and vice-versa. In 1837, John Calhoun asserted that "Never before has the black race of Central Africa, from the dawn of history to the present day, attained a condition so civilized and so improved, not only physically, but morally and intellectually." George Fitzhugh called enslaved Africans in America "the freest people in the world."

This tactic never went away. Children sent to work in factories are "perfectly happy." Polluted water is "purer than the water that came from the river before we used it." Poor families "don't really exist." Pesticides don't lead to "illness or death." Climate change is "beneficial." Lead "helps guard your health."

II. Markets can solve problems, governments can't

Alan Greenspan made a career out of blithely asserting that markets self-correct. It was only after the world economy imploded in 2008 that he admitted that his doctrine had a "flaw":

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/show/greenspan-admits-flaw-to-congress-predicts-more-economic-problems

No matter how serious a problem is, the market will fix it. In 1973, the US Chamber of Commerce railed against safety regulations, because "safety is good business," and could be left to the market. If unsafe products persist in the market, it's because consumers choose to trade safety off "for a lower price tag" (Chamber spox Laurence Kraus). Racism can't be corrected with anti-discrimination laws. It's only when "the market" realizes that racism is bad for business that it will finally be abolished.

III. Consumers and workers are to blame

In 1946, the National Coal Association blamed rampant deaths and maimings in the country's coal-mines on "carelessness on the part of men." In 2003, the National Restaurant Association sang the same tune, condemning nutritional labels because "there are not good or bad foods. There are good and bad diets." Reagan's interior secretary Donald Hodel counseled personal responsibility to address a thinning ozone layer: "people who don’t stand out in the sun—it doesn’t affect them."

IV. Government cures are always worse than the disease

Lee Iacocca called 1970's Clean Air Act "a threat to the entire American economy and to every person in America." Every labor and consumer protection before and since has been damned as a plague on American jobs and prosperity. The incentive to work can't survive Social Security, welfare or unemployment insurance. Minimum wages kill jobs, etc etc.

V. Helping people only hurts them

Medicare will "destroy private initiative for our aged to protect themselves with insurance" (Republican Senator Milward Simpson, 1965). Covid relief is unfair to people that are currently in the workforce" (Republican Governor Brian Kemp, 2021). Welfare produces "learned helplessness."

VI. Everyone who disagrees with me is a socialist

Grover Cleveland's 2% on top incomes is "communistic warfare against rights of property" (NY Tribune, 1895). "Socialized medicine" will leave "our children and our children’s children [asking] what it once was like in America when men were free" (Reagan, 1961).

Everything is "socialism": anti-child labor laws, Social Security, minimum wages, family and medical leave. Even fascism is socialism! In 1938, the National Association of Manufacturers called labor rights "communism, bolshevism, fascism, and Nazism."

As Dayen says, it's refreshing to see how the right hasn't had an original idea in 150 years, and simply relies on repeating the same nonsense with minor updates. Right wing ideological innovation consists of finding new ways to say, "actually, your boss is right."

The left's great curse is object permanence: the ability to remember things, like the fact that it used to be possible for a worker to support a family of five on a single income, or that the economy once experienced decades of growth with a 90%+ top rate of income tax (other things the left manages to remember: the "intelligence community" are sociopathic monsters, not Trump-slaying heroes).

When the business lobby rails against long-overdue antitrust action against Amazon and Google, object permanence puts it all in perspective. The talking points about this being job-destroying socialism are the same warmed-over nonsense used to defend rail-barons and Rockefeller. "If you don't like it, shop elsewhere," has been the corporate apologist's line since slavery times.

As Dayen says, Corporate Bullshit is a "reference book for conservative debating points, in an attempt to rob them of their rhetorical power." It will be out on Halloween:

https://bookshop.org/a/54985/9781620977514

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/27/six-sells/#youre-holding-it-wrong

#pluralistic #corporate bullshit #lies #books #reviews #taxonomies #labor #denialism #consumerism #Nick Hanauer #Joan Walsh #Donald Cohen #history #object permanence #taking the right seriously

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mollysunder · 6 months

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Since it's November, that basically means it's Christmas, so I want to look back at Arcane's most self-indulgent promotional art (illustrated by @GreezArt).

Practically everyone's here! (RIP Mylo and Claggor)

Look at Vander and Silco, they're not just being civil for the family... but actually cordial. Silco looks like he's ready to close the gap. Jayce and Mel get to enjoy a kiss under the mistletoe with no missile in site.

Cait and Vi are on cooking duty, but I doubt Caitlyn's ever had to cook, lol. Sevika gets to enjoy carving turkeys instead of necks, and they all let Singed join, for some reason.

For once, Jinx and Ekko aren't trying to maim or kill each other, they get to play with the toys instead. Ekko gets his spinny crystal bombs, and Jinx gets a suspiciously hollow rhino.

In a nice call back to young Viktor's boat scene, an older Viktor has managed to capture someone's interest in his handcrafted boat through Jinx. And in the back, Heimerdinger gets to put a hextech star on the tree with Ekko's board. Everybody gets to have a good time before next season.

#arcane #jinx arcane #silco #vander arcane #sevika arcane #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #jayce talis #mel medarda #jaymel #zaundads #vanco #viktor arcane #heimerdinger #singed arcane #ekko #ekko arcane

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

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The Queen’s Hand

(Part VII: Birthright)

Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Warning: this chapter includes the birth of Rhaenyra’s daughter who unfortunately does not survive.

Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI

“This is treason and you know it.” Aemmia snaps, her cheeks flush from tears. Her eyes burning with the fire of the dragon.

“I understand that you are upset.” Aemond attempts to gentle his wife, “but you must compose yourself. This is not good for the baby.”

“It is too soon to know if I’m with child!”

“Helaena told me so.”

Aemmia sighs, looking away. Some consider Helaena mad, but Aemmia knows better. Viserys knew things he could not, same as her mother.

“Rhaenyra is the rightful heir. I intend to uphold her claim.” She says, with fierce determination.

“Aemmia, please.” Aemond catches her face in his hand. “I will no longer argue the legitimacy of Rhaenyra’s claim. But the fact remains, my mother and grandsire have set this chain of succession in motion. I cannot stop it. I cannot make Rhaenyra Queen anymore than I can raise my father from the dead. If we do not accept the crown it will pass to Aegon.”

“Aegon cannot be found.” Aemmia steps away from his hold.

“They’ve not been looking very hard.”

“Why not?”

“Because they do not wish to find him.” Aemond confesses. “This is best for everyone. You and I on the throne, the coronation will be peaceful.”

“Aemond, I will not betray my family. If we send for Rhaenyra-”

“If Rhaenyra becomes queen, she will kill my family.”

“Why do you believe this?” Aemmia wonders, have Otto’s lies poisoned him so? “My aunt is not vindictive or cruel. Now she may forbade you from speaking ill against her children, but she would not harm you.”

“Her children have done it before,” Aemond reminds her, “and even you spoke against me.”

“You called them bastards.”

“Are they not?” He challenges.

“They are Targaryens,” Aemmia corrects him, “same as you and I.”

“Hmm.”

“It was you who attacked them.”

“Attacked them? Four against one.” Aemond huffs. “Yet none of them maimed.”

“You tried to kill Jace.”

“I was trying to defend myself.”

“As Lucerys was defending his brother.” She dares him to argue.

“Say what you will, dear wife. But if it were me who harmed one of her children this way, my father would have removed my eye himself and presented it to Rhaenyra on a platter.”

Aemmia reels back at this, “I cannot say if that is true. You knew a much different man than I.”

“Because he loved you.” Aemond says simply. “A privilege I was not afforded.”

“I-”

“When all is said and done it matters not. With us on the throne, we can ensure the safety of your family and mine. You will have the power to unfuck this as you see fit. I cannot give all you ask of me, but I can make you Queen.” Aemond pauses, “Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.”

“Why would you do that for me?” Her brow furrows.

“I despised you for years. Feeding into jealousy, unable to understand my father’s devotion to your mother and Rhaenyra’s children over me, his own son. But as I’ve come to know you, I see it a bit differently. We are not so different, two sides of the same coin. I…feel for you.”

“And I for you,” Aemmia breathes.

“I do not know if it is love, but I have never felt it for anyone else. I do not wish your family dead, I do not wish you to suffer. Allow me to do this for you.”

-———————————🌱———————————

“Y/N!”

The sound of her sister’s distressed cry sends the Princess scurrying to Rhaenyra’s rooms.

“Rhaenyra,” Y/N murmurs. She is in a state of undress, suited only for the birthing bed. Bent forward at the waist, gripping the door frame which overlooks the balcony. It is far too soon for her labors. “You must sit.”

“We are past that now.” Rhaenyra tells her. “This is happening.”

Y/N looks to the maester. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“I am afraid not, Princess.”

Rhaenyra reaches for her, “I need you.” Her voice is choked with pain.

Y/N crosses the room. Taking her sister’s hand and fussing about her endlessly. “I’m so sorry, Rhaenyra. I failed you.”

“Often times I felt the world has failed me, but never you, sister. Never have you failed me.” Rhaenyra gasps, clutching her belly.

“Let me help.” Y/N says, moving to knead the small of Rhaenyra’s back.

Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Daemon wishes to move immediately for the throne. He’s gone to madness.”

It’s been all of half an hour since the news arrived by raven. Alicent and Otto plan to use their absence to usurp Rhaenyra, forcing her own niece to take the crown.

“I know Aemmia and I love her like my own. She would not supplant me of her own free will. Whatever game Alicent is playing, I do not wish her to be caught in the cross fire. If Daemon moves it will be a blood bath, you know it as well as I.” Rhaenyra forces the words out between contractions.

“Rhaenyra, what would you have me do?” There’s blood, too much blood.

“You are the one meant to advise me.” Rhaenyra attempts a jest. “I have sent Jacaerys, whatever claim remains to me it is now his. I don’t not want any decision made while I’m abed.”

“I will send Harwin to back him,” Y/N suggests, “be sure Daemon is respectful of your wishes.”

“Harwin is an asset, but he holds little authority in court. Daemon trusts you, he may listen if you speak.”

“I do not wish to leave you this way.” Y/N confesses.

Rhaenyra reaches back, catching her sister’s hand. “It’s as mother always said, this is our battle field. We must learn to face it with a stiff upper lip. I will be alright until you return.”

Y/N nods, perhaps it is silly to worry. Rhaenyra has five children, but this is different. Still the Princess raises her chin, facing the council room with grace.

Harwin looks…perturbed to say the least. Daemon must be eating Jace alive.

“Might I ask exactly what is still up for discussion when your Queen has willed you wait for her? I assume my nephew, Jacaerys, was very clear.”

The room is silent for a long moment.

“Princess,” Lord Corlys, barely recovered from his injury in battle for the Step Stones, nods down to her hands.

Y/N follows his gaze, her mind spiraling with a grief so intense she has not yet felt it. She swallows, composing herself. Wiping her hands down the front of her dress to clean them; staining the material in her sister’s blood. “We are not to make any decisions in the absence of Rhaenyra.”

“We must make preparations, Y/N. War does not stop for a laboring Queen, I’m afraid. You will be most useful at my wife’s side.” Daemon tries to reason. However harsh his words, he does love Rhaenyra and wants her cared for in his absence.

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra cries. The awful sound of it echoing off the walls.

“Clearly you are the one she wants.” Y/N insists. “I will take over as head of this proceeding.”

“You would stand against your own daughter?”

“Wouldn’t it be best to first rally our allies?” Y/N ignores his question. “Assuming we know who still stands with us.”

Daemon looks down at Y/N’s hands again. “What of Aemmia?”

“Whatever my daughter hath done is in the name of this family, and our rightful queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. Aemmia is strong. She would not be so easily won over by the Hightowers. She would however be smart enough to play their game,” Y/N looks him dead in the eye, “and win.”

Daemon’s jaw ticks, “come Jacaerys, I will teach you the true meaning of loyalty.”

———————————-🌱———————————-

“Let the seven bear witness! It was King Viserys’ dying wish, that his first born child, Y/N Targaryen’s daughter, Aemmia Targaryen-”

Aemond feels his wife’s fingers tighten around his, as if the name startled her. Aemmia Strong is no more, he squeezes back. You’re alright.

“And his true born son, Aemond Targaryen, should succeed him. It is your great fortune and honor to witness this today. A new King and Queen to guide our city.”

Aemmia is grateful when she is asked to kneel to the High Septon, for fear she may faint. Her knees hit the top stair harder than strictly necessary. She can’t go through with this.

‘But, there is new hope. With Aemmia and Aemond’s union, our houses might stand together once more.’

Her grandsire’s words ring in her ears. This will not unite them. It will break any bonds that hold them. I cannot do it.

“May the warrior give them courage.”

I miss you, grandsire.

“May the smith lend strength to their sword and shield.”

I’m sorry, Rhaenyra.

“May the father defend them in their need.”

I need you, father.

“May the crone lift her shining lamp and guide their way to wisdom.”

Forgive me, mother.

With that the High Septon is finished.

“Crown of Viserys, the peaceful. Passed down to the next generation.”

Aemmia’s head is light, the metal of her grandsire’s crown too cool against her skin. Even it knows, it does not belong.

‘Tonight I want you to see me as I am.’

If only he were here. Her grandsire did not wish this. He would never let it happen.

“The crown of the conqueror, passed down through generations.” Criston Cole crowns Aemond next. A clear sense of accomplishment about him.

As if this has not been cruel enough, they are now expected to stand. Aemmia hopes no one will notice the wobble in her stance. Turning out to face the masses.

Aemond presses a kiss to her temple. Tis done. Drawing his sword, he kneels, presenting the blade for her to wield. He looks up at her, “my Queen.”

Aemmia takes the hilt carefully. Lifting it from his outstretched hand to the sky.

“All hail, her grace.” The Septon announces, though confused by the lack of ceremony. “Aemmia Targaryen, first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm. Aemmia the Queen!”

The applause starts slow, but is ever building. Aemond stands beside her proudly now, she has done her part. Her hand gone limp in his, eyes glossed over, she has checked out. Though no one but he is the wiser.

Only the explosion from the entrance and rubble flying in all directions pulls her from it. There is a dragon, she can make out the shape of someone on it’s saddle, but she cannot say who.

As the dust settles, Aemmia spots Rhaenys; Rhaenys sees her. Their eyes locked as Meleys rears back. Aemmia’s fingers curl around Aemond’s outstretched forearm. Though his body would do little to shield her, it is the only protection he has to offer.

The roar that sounds will live forever in her mind, no fire joins it. This is not and execution, it’s a warning.

———————————-🌱———————————-

“Ahhh!” Rhaenyra’s head falls forward in defeat.

“Good,” Y/N says, “very good. You’re nearly there.”

“Princess,” one of Rhaenyra’s maids calls, “you should not do this alone. Let us help you.”

Rhaenyra says nothing, bearing down against the pressure in her abdomen.

“Once more,” Y/N encourages, prepared to catch the babe.

Syrax cries out in distress as Rhaenyra brings her sixth child into the world.

The infant, a girl, perfect and beautiful. Completely still. She is small, but appears healthy though she does not cry. Y/N turns the baby over, rubbing at her back. “Come on, little one.”

Rhaenyra looks to her sister.

“We must have the maester!”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Give her here.”

“She will be alright.”

Rhaenyra leans her forehead to her sister’s. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Y/N slides the baby into Rhaenyra’s arms.

“I should like to be alone now.”

“I cannot leave you.” Not like this, she shouldn’t be alone.

“Even you cannot shield me from this. I have lost a child, I must grieve.”

It isn’t fair. Y/N forces herself to her feet. Covered in blood and the aftermath of a newborn babe. Holding her composure out the door, down the hall. But the tears come, hot and unbidden. Scorching her cheeks.

She tears at the strings of her gown as she walks, letting it pool at her feet then stepping over it. Shedding it the way a snake might shed it’s skin. She is different now, forever changed.

“My darling.” Harwin greets her just beyond the door of their guest chambers.

“I-” Y/N puts a hand up between them. “I cannot be comforted.”

Harwin holds his stance, not moving toward her. “You must have a bath.”

Y/N shakes her head. “There is a war to be fought.”

“In your dressing gown?”

“I do not have armor.”

“We will get you some, when the time comes.”

“Do not coddle me.”

“I apologize, that was not my intent. I only want to be sure you’ve thought this out.”

“Thought it out?” Y/N forms her mouth slowly around each word. “The Hightowers have held our daughter against her will and forced her to commit high treason. The repercussions of which sent Rhaenyra into such a state of distress that she has lost her child.”

“Viserys would have wanted-”

“My father is not here! He’s gone. Dead.” The word burns it’s way from her throat. “He left me and he’s never coming back.”

“Y/N,” Harwin runs a hand over his face.

“If my father were alive, he would open the floodgates and rain hellfire upon them.”

“Look at me.” Harwin crosses the room, taking her face in hand.

“She’s all I have left of my mother.” Y/N shoves him away. “All I have left of him. I cannot lose Rhaenyra. I will protect her at any cost and no one will take her from me!”

“My love, you are not yourself.”

“No, you’re wrong.” Y/N insists. “This is who I am, Harwin. This is who I’ve always been.”

“I have known you some thirty eight years, married to you for over twenty of them. I know who you are, Y/N Targaryen. I know you and I love you. Therefore I will be the first to tell you when you are making a mistake.”

“That is the problem, Harwin.” Her chest heaves with the weight of it. “I’ve changed, I am different.”

“Push me away and reel me in as you wish, but I will not abandon you. When you die it will be with my slain body at your feet, my sword and shield in your hand. If this is the war we are fighting I will stand at your side. I am not your enemy. I’m only asking to weigh our options.”

Her defenses dissipate. “Your patience and understanding touches me deeply. I do apologize for taking my frustrations out on you, it will not happen again.”

Harwin softens at this, “you need not apologize for being human.”

“I do not see a way back from this.” Y/N admits. “They have gone too far.” She puts a hand to her aching heart.

———————————-🌱———————————-

It has been three days. Three days since the coronation. Aemmia has just changed into her nightgown when she hears rustling from the adjoining room of her apartment.

Aemond.

“Come to celebrate?” Aemmia shakes her head. “I am exhausted from the day’s affairs. I wish to sleep.”

Silence.

“Aemond?” Aemmia turns to farther investigate. There is someone there, a man. His hood draw up, covering the top portion of his face. “Show yourself.”

The cloak is pulled back, Aemmia squints into the dimly lit corner. He reminds her of someone…someone she used to know. But it couldn’t possibly be, “Laenor?” Now she is seeing ghosts.

The man takes a step toward her. “Ser Lynis will do.”

“It was you? All these years, the one my mother was writing from the Step Stones.”

He nods.

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Your mother wanted to come herself, badly.” Laenor explains, “but I had a better chance of getting through the passage ways into the castle than she did.”

“Are you…staying?” Say yes. “Or perhaps I could come with you?” Please.

“Not just yet. But we do not want you to think yourself forgotten. Your family will not abandon you here, Aemmia.”

“In all these years I have not forgotten you. It is so good to see you again, Uncle.”

Laenor opens his arms to her, “come.”

Aemmia runs, all but jumping into the familiar hold of the man who would put her up on his shoulders as a child. “Will you tell her- tell my mother I did not want this.”

“She knows.” Laenor assures her.

“And the crown,” Aemmia makes a run for it, “my grandsire would want Rhaenyra to have it. Our true Queen.”

Laenor wraps his hand around it, tucking it safely into his satchel. “Well done, sweetheart. You’ve made us all proud.”

“Will I see you again?” Aemmia asks.

“When the time is right.”

Part VIII

Taglist @evyiione @giulia2372 @bubblebuttwade @hotd-fanfic @leoramage @hyperfiaxed-freak @chonisbestmistake @poemfreak306

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keepsmyheartawake · 3 months

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The U.S. is isolated in thinking this is a good idea. But in this country, the argument against a ceasefire is very common: unless Israel destroys Hamas, Israel will not be safe. Israel is entitled to be safe. Therefore Israel is entitled to destroy Hamas by any means necessary, even if this means starving half of Gaza to death, blowing up hospitals, maiming and killing thousands of children, etc. In vetoing the U.N. ceasefire resolution, the U.S. said that if Hamas is left in its leadership position, the “seeds of the next war” will be sown. Peace, then, can only come through the use of extreme violence. Alan Dershowitz has explained this ruthless, ends-justify-the-means logic: “sometimes attacking a hospital saves lives.”

What is the response to this? A few points are critical. First, if you value human lives equally, protecting Palestinians matters just as much as protecting Israelis. And while those who do not remember history before October 7 might assume that Israel is acting purely defensively and has the “right to defend itself,” in the underlying conflict Israel is ultimately the aggressor. Israel occupies Palestine in violation of international law. It had Gaza under an illegal blockade. Gazans are mostly refugees and the descendants of refugees who were thrown out of their homes when Israel was founded. When Gazans have tried methods of peaceful civil disobedience to fight for their rights, they have been ruthlessly gunned down by Israeli snipers.

This context doesn’t justify the horrendous October 7 attacks. But Israel’s “right to defend itself” is complicated. If I break into your house, and you attack me, do I have a “right to defend myself” and how far should that right extend? Occupying powers have far more responsibilities than rights.

If the Palestinians said they needed to wage war on Israel, and could not stop until the Israeli political leadership was “destroyed,” and cited Israel’s previous mass killings of Gazan civilians as justification, would they have the right to inflict endless “collateral damage” on Israel in order to destroy the occupying power? No. Why should Israel, then, which has much less of a right of defense in the underlying conflict, have this right vis-a-vis Palestine? You can tell me that October 7 provides such a justification. I could point you to Operation Cast Lead, in which Israel killed a similar number of Palestinians to the number of Israelis killed on Oct. 7 (in a conflict that began after Israel broke a ceasefire). Would that operation give Hamas the right to turn Tel Aviv into Dresden in “self-defense”? If it is the case that when one side commits an atrocity, the other side has the right to wipe out the entire political leadership of the perpetrator (no matter how many civilians are killed in the process), Israel’s leaders and civilians would also be fair targets. (They aren’t, but this “Bin Ladenist” logic is routinely deployed to say that Palestinian civilians, even babies, can justly be attacked.)

#free palestine #save gaza

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medusanova · 11 days

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iron sharpens iron

for my dear friend and captain of the andylind ship, @shadowofnight!

Her breath passed her fingertips as her eyes looked beyond them, arms locked in their notched position. The bow between her fingers creaked as Rosalind pulled it just a little tighter, steadying the magic-imbued arrowhead she and the fire fairy that had recently joined her cause in secret had crafted.

Months ago, when Queen Luna came to Alfea, came to Rosalind, to issue a directive for her to use her knowledge and influence to look into a Blood Witch settlement and hunt down one of them due to some personal vendetta, she thought she’d miss the day-to-day of being Headmistress.

Pushing students to uncover the limits of their magic, seeing the hunger in their eyes as they tapped into power they didn’t know they had, molding them into the powerful, loyal soldiers she knew they’d become — it had become an unexpected benefit of the position she’d initially vied for as a way to discover more about the legend of the Dragon Flame.

But she had her own reasons for wanting to get close to the Blood Witches. And a little torture, she'd found, usually went a long way.

As she honed her arrow on her target, as the speed of her heart echoed through her ears when her powers clawed into the man's mind, she lamented the fact that she’d spent so long teaching combat instead of participating in it.

Rosalind clenched the force of her powers around the Blood Witch like a hungry python, his scream piercing through the brush-covered plains that marked the border of Eraklyon as he became immobilized. Almost simultaneously, she released her fingers, hearing the satisfying thwap of the bow string.

The arrow did its job, slicing through the wind to make its way straight for the gut of the Blood Witch she’d been tracking for the last 2 hours. High enough to maim, low enough not to kill.

Only, the iron blade of a bloodied sword sliced his gut before her arrow could cross the distance.

She knew by the desperate gasping that came from him that he was still being strangled by her magic, but all she looked at was the arm, the body, the face of the man connected to the sword.

The face of a young, stubbled soldier — not one of hers — staring at her with one brow raised as if to say you going to finish that?

A mixture of anger and respect swirled through her gut. And in a strange, instinct-fueled decision, she didn’t encompass him in the lethal force of her power as the Blood Witch let out his final groan and fell apart from within.

She did, however, cross the tall grass to confront him. Notching another arrow into her bow, keeping her magic at the surface.

By the time she got close enough to make out the blue of his eyes and the curve of his smirking lips, he’d wiped the blade of his sword on his thigh and spoke to her in a cocky voice, “The saying goes, ‘first come, first killed’ no? Arrows are swift and deadly, but swords? They’re faster.”

His demeanor practically dripped in spoiled naivette and irrational over-confidence, and Rosalind’s eyes narrowed as she wondered why her curiosity had stopped her from putting the young man out of his misery.

“The speed of a sword can be double-edged for those who don’t have the wit to take advantage of it,” she clipped, stopping close enough to note that, though he was more built than he’d initially looked, he was also younger. That amusing discovery had her putting away her bow. “And who are you to mark yourself the first?”

He looked down at the broken body next to them and then took a step toward her. He hadn’t sheathed his sword yet.

“Andreas, a swordsman.”

“And what makes you think there needs to be more hunters?” Rosalind asked.

“Who just killed this Blood Witch, again?”

“I did.”

A smirk. “We did.”

“There is no we in death.” She closed the space between them to dig the tip of the fire magic-laced arrowhead under his chin, pointing it up. “Only the killer.” She knew the iron was hot but he didn’t flinch. Just looked at her down his nose. Rosalind pressed harder. “And the killed,” she sneered.

“Maybe you’re right. But first,” She saw a flash of his teeth before the tip of his sword rose until it was a centimetre from her throat. “You have to be certain the roles won’t reverse.”

Rosalind found her lips twitching, both lowered their weapons.

And for the first time since the raw talent of the young Farah Dowling graced Alfea’s halls, Rosalind felt a thrill over the un-explored potential of a student.

“Andreas the swordsmen,” she declared, watching his eyes shine with magic as she quickly scanned his mind. “How would you like to be Andreas the Specialist?”

Happy happy birthday to you, Anne! xx

#my humble contribution to the esteemed event of the year.. Anne's Andylind April #happiest of birthdays to you darling #my sort of out there take on an andylind-branded meet cute #also archer rosalind is now a headcanon of mine #andylind #ftws andreas #andreas of eraklyon #rosalind hale #ftws rosalind #fate: the winx saga #fate ficlet #nova writes #my writing

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witchthewriter · 1 year

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𝐒𝐢𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬' 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

🌿ISTP 🍁Hufflepuff 📜Lawful Good 🔮Pisces Sun, Libra Moon, Sagittarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・First off, you and Merlin are best friends

・Because the majority of Merlin’s time is being Arthur’s servant, Gaius needed someone to shadow him - so there would be another healer in Camelot

・And at first this made Merlin a little uneasy. He felt a bit replaced, but knew Gaius was right. The kingdom needed to come first.

・It helped a lot that you were pretty cool as well

・Oh, and the fact you’re a witch or sorcerer/sorceress...whichever word you like to use, made the friendship between you and Merlin solidify. You bonded so deeply.

・You would often help Merlin with whatever free time you had, and sometimes that meant being around the knights

・Sir Percival had a crush on you the very first moment you spoke

・You didn’t look like the everyday villager. People can tell there’s something different about you.

・You make your own clothes, and often make clothes for Merlin. In return, he does your laundry and your dishes

・Gaius absolutely adores you. He thinks the world of you. You’re like his own child. Some days he can be very blunt and critical, but he’s only trying to get the best out of you.

・The day Percival told you his feelings, was when another person vied for your attention.

・He couldn’t stand to see someone else have you. The thought made him sick. He needed you.

・Even though Percival thought his love was unrequited, ... he was shocked to hear that you returned the same care.

・You kept your secret from him. Merlin knew you wanted to tell him, but thought it would be too dangerous. Gaius thought so as well.

・But then Percival proposed and you didn’t want there to be any secrets between you

・You actually told him. The day before your wedding you told him. You thought he would break things off with you, not want to be with you anymore.

・But he ... didn’t care. Well, he did care, because he wanted you to be safe at all times. But he wasn’t judgemental.

・Percival has much more goodness in him than anyone you had ever met

・You cried happy tears that night

・Merlin was over the moon for you

・Gaius was still sceptical (when wasn’t he)

・But you trusted Percival, you trusted him with your life

・He loves peppering kisses all over your face, making you laugh.

・And he loves carrying you in his arms

・Your relationship is very physical - a lot of affection is shown

・He’s always excited to see you

・And grows very curious about your witchcraft

・Although he doesn’t understand it most of the time, he just nods his head and smiles

・Respects your tools. Always leaves things as they are, and whenever you need something, he’s more than happy to retrieve it for you

・He does his best to keep your secret, but there are changes in him that the other knights can see. When it comes to ‘laying down the law’ with other druids/witches/sorcerers, Percival is hesitant and lenient.

・And if any other knight isn’t around, he lets them go and tells them where to find safety

・When he comes home to you, with sadness in his eyes, you know what the King had ordered.

・Many times he had sobbed into your lap. Because he saw you in all those who had magic.

・Every time he had to kill, maim or capture, felt like he was doing it to you. Because if anyone found out your secret, that’s exactly what would happen

・You would hold him, and in turn, tears would spill down your cheeks

・Because you knew how dangerous your life was

・And you two would get talking. How could you help others? Because you couldn’t let other people endure this.

・Soon you two would become a safe haven for all those who possessed magic.

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖: My love. It’s simple, and he rarely uses anything else. But that’s because all of his love... you own it. You’re his heart. You’re his world.

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆: Physical Touch and Acts of Service. Percival loves reaching out and feeling you close to him, especially when he’s sleeping. During the day, he’ll come up behind you and hug you. When you’ve been apart, he’ll jump off his horse and run to you, sweeping you off of your feet.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Ho Hey by the Midnite String Quartet

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

・Golden Retriever x Black Cat

・Looks Like A Jerk But Has A Heart Of Gold (Percival) x Looks Like They Could Kill You, Can Kill You, But Also Has A Heart Of Gold (You)

・Emotional Support Animal In Human Form (Percival) x Would Do Anything For Those They Love (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

When Two Of The Kindest People In The Room Are In Love

#sir percival #sir percival headcanons #witch reader #merlin #merlin headcanons #merlin bbc #merlin bbc headcanons #witchthewriter #headcanons #witch #witchy reader #sir percival x reader #sir percival x witch reader #melin x reader #merlin x witch reader #merlin fanfic #reader insert #fanfiction

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callmearcturus · 11 months

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Stunt Facts: Rogue Nation Edition

as requested (thank you for indulging me) lets fucking talk about the three big stunts of Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation, aka my favorite movie of the McQuarrie Trilogy

The Batshit Plane Stunt

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This is literally the cold open of the movie and doesn't spoil anything about the plot, enjoy.

This stunt came about from McQuarrie looking at a model of the plane and joking that they should have Ethan hang off the side of it. Unfortunately, Cruise took him seriously.

When Cruise and McQuarrie asked Airbus if the stunt was humanly possible, they were told it absolutely fucking wasn't. As usual, the two idiots did not listen.

Cruise was attached to a very secure harness that fed into the door. Honestly, that part, the actual attaching of Cruise to the plane was probably the safest part of the stunt.

Where the danger came in: the plane had to fly at a very careful speed. The Airbus is Fucking Enormous, as you can see from the clip, so it has to reach a certain speed just to become airborne. However, if it went too fast, there was a legitimate concern that Cruise would be maimed as he's torn bodily off the side from the windshear. Yeah.

Another issue was the chance that something would fly through the engine and hit Cruise. For this reason, the runway was vigorously cleaned of all debris. Even so, a fucking pebble managed to his Cruise and it nearly cracked his fucking ribs, and if it had hit higher, it would have fucking killed him.

According to Simon Pegg, this was the stunt Cruise was the most nervous about doing, which honestly? Makes sense. With the Burj and the underwater stunt and even the HALO jump, Cruise had control of his body and we all have to admit that he clearly knows his precise physical limitations. With the airplane stunt, he was strapped to the side with nothing he could do but survive the ordeal.

Cruise was wearing special glass contacts to protect his eyes and let him actually open them. As a side effect, he could barely see shit.

Cruise, to McQuarrie: "If it looks like I'm scared, I'm acting! Do not cut." McQuarrie knew to cut the take when Cruise started laughing manaically. (Which tbh sounds hilarious)

Oh and it was 27F so literally below zero when they did this and because Cruise wanted his outfit to be a reference to North by Northwest, he had no protection against the cold.

Tangential fun fact: Benji's ghillie suit outfit for this scene. When they got the suit in, McQuarrie and Cruise both modeled it first, sending Pegg pictures of it.

The Torus of Aw Shit Ethan Fucking Drowned

youtube

This wasn't in the original plan for the movie. Cruise spotted the pre-vis people looking at the model of the Torus and went, "Oh, cool, we're going to do an underwater scene!" The scene wasn't intended to be underwater. Moral of the story: Don't let this fucking man look at any goddamn models.

Cruise trained until he could hold his breath for six minutes to do this sequence. He even, a few times, purposefully stayed under too long and passed out so he would know what his limits felt like.

The underwater DP for the sequence found it unnerving to do because he said when you spend a lot of time underwater, you can get to a very peaceful calm place mentally and just lose track of time. Once, he pulled Cruise up bc he was scared that was happening.

Cruise: "What are you doing, I was in the moment, I was acting."

DP: "I know you were but it just got a little too real for me."

Cruise: "I get that but you need to trust me. I know my limits and I do not want to die."

The scene is more practical than it looks. Any surface Cruise touches is real. VFX were added to enhance the feel of the scene.

The scene actually exists as a continuous 3.5 minute long sequence but McQuarrie thought it dragged on too long so chose to intercut it with Benji's progress to the Gait Analysis. I personally wish they kept the full uncut sequence just to go "ha fuck you."

oh my god the stunt driving

youtube

For the car sequence: Cruise and Pegg were genuinely in the car and Cruise really was the stunt driver for the sequence. Pegg reportedly was perfectly fine being the passenger bc he trusts Cruise's driving acumen at this point.

The bit where the car does a hard turn to hit the motorcycles was for real. The car was mounted on a rig to let it spin like that and the walls of the alleyway were actually a soft foam to make it safer for the stunt cyclists to hit the sides.

For the motorcycle sequence: oooooh my fucking godddddd okay

Cruise was driving 100mph with no helmet and no protective gear. The whole thing is fully practical, though VFX was used to add even more cars into the sequence afterward.

this crazy motherfucker really did the bit where Ethan puts his knee down and scrapes it during the hard turn. he did it three fucking times. again: no protective gear.

this one is so stressful to watch but is fucking tame compared to the one in Fallout which is Actively Fucking Batshit.

this man wants to die in the name of preserving cinema, i'm telling you

#mission impossible #cw tom cruise #mission impossible fun facts

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haggishlyhagging · 3 months

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In the Sado-Ritual we find, first, an obsession with purity. This obsession legitimates the fact that the women who are the primary victims of the original rites are erased physically as well as spiritually. These primary victims are often killed, as in the case of the rite of suttee. In other cases, such as Chinese footbinding, as we shall see later, they are physically and psychically maimed. This original erasure obviously keeps the primary victims from being witnesses. In the name of "purity," they are effectively silenced. Thus the widows' sexual purity is "safeguarded" by ritual murder. In preparation for this ultimate purification they are ceremoniously bathed, and care is taken to kill them at a "pure" time, that is, when they are not menstruating or pregnant. Thus "society" is purified of these "wicked" widows and also of all traces of female re-belliousness, for the women and girl-children who witness these events or hear of them must be perfectly brainwashed with terror of the same fate.

Second, there is total erasure of responsibility for the atrocities performed through such rituals. Those doing the destruction commonly have recourse to the idea that they are acting "under orders," or following tradition (serving a Higher Order). This allows the self as role-carrier to commit acts which the personal/private self would find frightening or evil.

III

Third, gynocidal ritual practices have an inherent tendency to "catch on" and spread, since they appeal to imaginations conditioned by the omnipresent ideology of male domination. Moreover, since the patriarchal imagination is hierarchical, there is a proliferation of atrocities from an elite to the upwardly aspiring lower echelons of society.

Fourth, women are used as scapegoats and token torturers (for example, by the "setting up" of mothers-in-law as to blame for the widows' doom). This masks the male-centeredness of the ritualized atrocity and turns women against each other.

Fifth, we find compulsive orderliness, obsessive repetitiveness, and fixation upon minute details, which divert attention from the horror. In short, attention is focused upon what is proper and ceremonial, rather than upon the woman's horrible suffering and death.

Sixth, behavior which at other times and places is unacceptable becomes acceptable and even normative as a consequence of conditioning through the ritual atrocity. Such value judgments are easily interchangeable in the swinging-pendulum society characterized by consciousness split into false opposites. Thus it is not surprising that the practice is desired and sometimes continued even after it has officially/legally been terminated, as in the recurring instances of "practical suttee."

VII

Seventh, there is legitimation of the ritual by the rituals of "objective" scholarship—despite appearances of disapproval. The basic cultural assumptions which make the atrocious ritual possible and plausible remain unquestioned, and the practice itself is misnamed and isolated from other parallel symptoms of the planetary patriarchal practice of female maiming and massacre. Jan Raymond has suggested that such scholarship could be called meta-ritual. The name is accurate, for this kind of writing not only "records" (erases) the original rituals but also provides "explanations" and legitimations for them, purporting to see beyond their materiality into their "soul" or meaning. This legitimation by the Rites of Re-search is an extension of the primordial gynocidal acts. The practitioners of these Last Rites re-enact the original rites by erasing their meaning and by effacing those Searchers who did weave their way through the mazes of re-search with integrity, dis-covering the forbidden fruit of their labors, that is, the facts.

-Mary Daly, Gyn/Ecology

#mary daly #sado-ritual characteristics #female oppression #patriarchy #suttee #femicide

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arotechno · 1 year

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O. basilicum, part vi

There wasn’t any particular moment in which Basil finally realized that the curse wasn’t real.

There was no sudden clarity, no revelation, nothing he could pinpoint as before and after. It was just the slow, gradual dawning of something that, if he thought about it, had always been obvious to him, deep down.

When he’d first heard those tall tales, so many years ago, maybe there was already a part of him that doubted their validity. How could it be that he, who was only ever a child trying to live a quiet life and make friends, could be cursed? How could he be destined to bring evil upon the world, when it was other children who had beaten and berated him? What divine irony was that, that he should be considered the monstrous one, while others—with their supposed pure and unyielding love—could attempt to maim or even kill him with impunity?

The thing was, believing it had been easy. It was not hard to convince himself that surely, monster or not, evil or not, he had been cursed with some affliction. The truth was far harder to stomach—that anyone who believed they had the right to hurt him had been deluding themselves. Basil had never truly believed that there was something inhuman about him; but when that was how other people treated you anyway, what use was the truth?

There was no divine destiny, no cosmic reason, good or evil, that he should be born the way he was. It was simply the way of things, like nature. The sun rose every morning. Basil did not have a heart.

This new understanding should have brought him solace. It should have been vindicating, to know that his belief in his own humanity hadn’t been misplaced. It brought him no such peace. But it didn’t make him angry, either. Instead, Basil only felt a quiet sense of resignation. After all, what difference did it make?

Before they knew what he was, the children of Swallow’s Point had treated Basil just like they would any other. He was strange, perhaps—he didn’t always relate to or understand the things they would joke about, like their crushes or their lofty dreams of being wed to someone wealthy from the capital—but they did not shun him. The way they turned on him so rapidly made it obvious that it didn’t matter who he was, only what he was. Once they decided there was something wrong with him, it didn’t matter who he’d proven himself to be. It wouldn’t have even mattered if he could prove the curse wasn’t real.

Deep down, Basil knew the truth: they would have considered him to be a freak either way.

When he tried to broach the subject with Jim, he’d only received a strange look in response. The others had reacted much the same, if a bit more graciously (save for Dusty, who’d jokingly agreed and then made him repeat it next to the new garden beds to “at least put that horseshit to good use”). Ann had attempted a clumsy diatribe about why he shouldn’t speak of himself that way before quickly giving up in embarrassment. When he’d mentioned it to Frida, it had been during a crying spell immediately following a nightmare, and she’d only tried to console him. Only Hank had given him somewhat of a straight answer, saying, “You know better than that by now” with a knowing expression before lapsing into silence on the trail.

And so, that had been that.

Today, Basil sat on Frida’s porch, toes in the grass, weaving. The motion soothed him, and reminded him fondly of warm days in Swallow’s Point, making daisy chains and flower crowns in the meadow. Now, however, he was working on a much more ambitious project.

“What’s that you’re working on?”

Basil looked up from his work. Ann crested the hill to the house, pack over her shoulder. As usual, she carried her bow on her back and a knife on her belt. It was rare to see her without them, even though the village was relatively safe and Hank always went about town unarmed.

“A sunhat. I want to finish it by summer,” Basil said. His attempts in years previous had not gone as planned; his best hat had only held up for a few weeks before falling apart. He hoped his new strategy would be more successful. “What’s in there?”

“Hides,” Ann said, hefting the bag. “Frida asked for them. Can’t imagine what she needs them for.”

Basil’s face lit up. “For blankets!” he explained. “Warmer ones, for when folks are sick.”

Ann’s lip twitched in a smile. “Well, look at you. Someone’s become the perfect apprentice.”

“Helping people,” Basil said, bashful. “It just feels right. Everyone took care of me when I was younger, so I ought to do the same. We have to look after one another. No one else will.”

An odd look passed across Ann’s face, and she took a knee in front of Basil with a sigh. Damn, he thought. Not this again.

“Kid, we’re not gonna be able to protect you forever.”

“I know.”

“You’re absolutely positive you don’t want me to teach you how to shoot? You have the steady hands for it.”

Basil’s stomach lurched. He’d accompanied Ann and Hank on a hunt exactly once, and he’d thrown up in the bushes and had to go home. That had been the end of that.

“I’m sure,” he said, voice strangled, idly fiddling with the loose strands of soft green grass poking out of his unfinished hat.

“Basil. I know you don’t want to hear it, but if you’re going to walk around in the woods by yourself like you have been, you ought to be able to defend yourself. This is me trying to keep you safe.”

“I’m not doing it.” Basil crossed his arms over his chest, indignant. “I promise to be careful, but I’m not shooting that thing.”

Ann sighed and rubbed at her temple. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

Most people in town had never held a weapon in their life. Plenty of the villagers went wandering about, yet only Basil was subject to Ann’s incessant prodding about learning self defense. It was unfair to be treated this way—in a short time, Basil went from feared and derided to lauded as something uniquely precious. He was either a scourge on the world or the paragon of hope and virtue; there was no winning either way.

“I don’t know what it is you all see in me,” Basil said. “I’m not some kind of hero.”

“It ain’t about you being a hero. It’s just that, well…” Ann grimaced, looking rather sheepish. “You’re young, and you only narrowly survived your way here. It gives the rest of us something to live for, knowing you’ll be alright.”

Basil suppressed a smirk. It was a peculiar sentiment, given that he in his young life had experienced far more direct violence than most of the other townspeople. Ann didn’t seem to notice the irony. Instead, she looked at him wistfully before shaking herself out of it and pushing past him into the house, ruffling his hair as she passed.

Once she was gone, Basil plucked another blade of long grass from his basket and returned to his weaving. He worked steadily for a while, worming his toes in the cool dirt. After some time, he grew curious and scooted up closer to the kitchen window to eavesdrop..

“...he’s so stubborn about it, Frida! Can’t he see how important this is?”

Startled, Basil leaned closer to hear, hands stilling.

“Ann, please don’t push the boy. If it’s upsetting to him, we ought to not force him to do it.”

“Someone’s going to come for him some day. You know where he’s from. If he wanders off too far—”

“Hush now. It’s safe here. No one is going to come.”

Ann took a ragged breath. “Hank was right from the start. We should have done something about this.”

“Absolutely not. We do not need to risk further traumatizing the poor boy.”

“Frida, do you know the way he talks? Things about being cursed, about—”

“Yes, yes, he’s said the same to me too. It’s a common myth, Ann. He’s growing up, trying to understand what he is.”

“He worries me. I told myself in the beginning not to get attached, because—”

“He’ll be alright, dear. He’s a teenager now, and a smart one at that. You should see the way he is around the house; so bright and kind. Thank you for looking out for him.”

Basil set his project aside, hands trembling. Anger washed over him, though at what, he didn’t know. Anger at the people who had lied to him for so long, perhaps. Anger at those who had hurt him and ruined his life. Anger at himself, even, for still being frightened after all this time, for being too weak to protect himself, for proving Ann right with his own fragility.

Not wanting the others to know he’d been eavesdropping, Basil grabbed his cane and scurried further from the house, adrenaline pushing him a good deal across the hillside before he dropped back into the grass, legs quaking. He stayed there for a long while, arms wrapped around his knees, trying to breathe slowly through the anger and panic.

The sun was setting by the time Frida came to fetch him, settling beside him in the grass, not minding the way it stained her skirts.

“Basil, dear? Are you okay?” she asked, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. It was his quilt, the same old one she’d given him the day he’d arrived in Verdigris, those years ago.

Basil shrugged.

“Is it alright if I touch you?”

Basil nodded, and Frida draped an arm around him and tugged him close, brushing his shoulder gently with her thumb in a soothing motion. He was nearly taller than her now, though that wasn’t saying much. Both of them were still short. For a moment, they sat quietly in the rustling grass, watching the sun go down over Verdigris. Eventually, Frida spoke again.

“You know you aren’t cursed, don’t you, Basil? There is nothing evil or wrong about how you were born.”

“I know,” Basil said softly. He nestled closer to her side. “A part of me always knew. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“I know. But I thought you deserved to hear someone say it to you anyway.”

Briefly, Basil felt a twinge of regret, thinking of those left behind. Ace, if he was truly still out there, and any others like him would have to go on believing in a lie that had only been crafted to hurt them. But that pain was quickly superseded by the feeling of the huge weight he’d been carrying for years being lifted from his shoulders. Two years before everything had gone wrong, Basil had been warned of his own existence like it were a ghost story, and he and Ace had both carried that burden like a seed deep within their chests from that day on. The moment had brought them together, but it also represented a threat to whatever little peace they’d had.

Now, however futile or fleeting the feeling was, Basil buried his face in Frida’s shoulder and wept, relieved.

#struggled real hard with where i wanted to go w this chapter #but it's done! for better or worse.#aro #aromantic #o basilicum #the heartless #aro writing #long post #op

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the-garbanzo-annex-jr · 9 months

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Satyel Larson, Ph.D. Assistant Professor of Near Eastern Studies Princeton University 108 Jones Hall Princeton, NJ 08544

Dear Professor Larson:

—–We write on behalf of the Zionist Organization of America (ZOA), the oldest pro-Israel organization in the U.S., dedicated to fighting antisemitism in all its forms, including when anti-Jewish bigotry is masked as criticism of Israel. Our letter is prompted by reports that you are making Jasbir Puar’s book, “The Right to Maim,” required reading in a course you will be teaching at Princeton University this fall. Puar’s book is filled with anti-Israel falsehoods. Mandating your students to read this antisemitic book will likely lead them to unwarranted animosity toward Israel and Jews. It may also create a hostile learning environment for Jewish and Israeli students in violation of Title VI of the Civil Rights Act. We strongly urge you to replace Puar’s book with a book that is based on the facts.

—–Puar lies in her book by outrageously accusing Israel of deliberately maiming and “debilitating” the Palestinian Arab population, rather than killing them, “in order to control them.” She also falsely and absurdly claims that children are a “prime target” of Israel. These contentions are complete and dangerous nonsense, a reflection of Puar’s documented hostility toward Israel and Jews.

—–For example, she has promoted the twisted notion of “pinkwashing”: that Israel is an exemplary protector of LGBTQ rights – unlike all other nations in the Middle East where LGBTQ people are treated as criminals, subjected to persecution and violence, and even killed – purportedly to distract from its alleged oppression of the Palestinian Arab people. Puar also supports the antisemitic boycott, divestment and sanctions (BDS) movement against Israel, which singles out the one and only Jewish state in the entire world for condemnation and punishment. As the leaders of this movement make clear, the real motive of BDS is not peace or improving Palestinian Arabs’ lives; it is Israel’s destruction. Furthermore, Puar supports violence and terrorism against Jews. At a 2016 lecture, she reportedly stated that “ . . . we need BDS as part of organized resistance and armed resistance in Palestine as well. There is no other way the situation is going to change” [emphasis added].

—–For those who might try to argue that Puar’s animosity is limited to the Jewish State of Israel, she herself has shown that her animosity is directed toward Jews, too. Puar has referred to Jews as “the Zios.” This is the same antisemitic slur that David Duke, the former grand wizard of the Ku Klux Klan and a rabid antisemite, frequently uses when he refers to Jews.

—–Puar’s contention that Israel’s goal is to “debilitate” Palestinian Arabs “in order to control them” is a lie. In fact, Israel has demonstrated that its goal is not to control them, having made three generous offers, over 20 years, of an independent Palestinian Arab state in exchange for peace. Puar’s contention is her own invention, calculated to demonize Israel and indoctrinate her readers to wrongly believe that Israel is a brutal and evil oppressor. In fact, military leaders have described the Israel Defense Forces as “the most moral army” in the world, going to extraordinary lengths to protect human lives and prevent civilian casualties.

—–It is also a grotesque lie for Puar to claim in her book that children are a “prime target” for Israel. She ignores the fact that the Palestinian Arab leadership deliberately indoctrinates its children to hate Israel and Jews and encourages them to engage in violence and terrorism against Israelis and Jews. The U.S.-designated terrorist group Hamas, which controls and rules over Gaza, exploits children to help build Hamas’ terror tunnels. It also runs summer camps where children are taught to honor terrorist murderers and trained to commit acts of terrorism against Jews. On a Hamas television program for children, one child said he wants to be an engineer when he grows up “so that I can blow up the Jews.”

—–The Palestinian Authority is no better, teaching children to become “martyrs” and paying generous lifetime pensions to Arabs who murder Jews. On a PA television program, children are quizzed on songs that the PA views as integral to Palestinian Arab culture. One song depicts Israel as the “enemy” and encourages deadly, armed attacks: “I’m coming with my rifle . . . I’m coming towards you, my enemy . . . with cleavers and knives.” In her book, Puar conveniently ignores these and other facts because they do not fit within her false anti-Israel narrative.

—–It is appalling, dangerous and indefensible that anyone in a position of influence would promote Puar’s antisemitic lies, given the growing problem of antisemitism in this country and especially in New Jersey. According to the Anti-Defamation League’s latest data, for 2022, New Jersey had the highest number of antisemitic incidents ever recorded by the ADL in the state and the third-highest number recorded in any state across the U.S.

—–Princeton would never tolerate teaching materials that deliberately promote lies about Blacks, Muslims, LGBTQ people, or any other targeted community – nor should it. Yet disgracefully the faculty in your department approved Puar’s book. We urge all of you – and the University’s leaders – to rethink this misguided and dangerous decision. If the goal is to educate, rather than indoctrinate Princeton students with false anti-Israel propaganda, then there are accurate books about the Israeli-Palestinian Arab conflict to include on your syllabus. We would be pleased to recommend some to you. Puar’s book is not worthy of a place on any reading list at Princeton and should be removed from yours.

—–Thank you for considering our concerns. We look forward to your response.

cc: Christopher L. Eisgruber, President (via email) Jill S. Dolan, Dean of the College (via email) Gene Andrew Jarrett, Dean of the Faculty (via email) Behrooz Ghamari-Tabrizi, Chair, Near Eastern Studies Department (via email)

#satyel larson #princeton university #jasbir puar #blood libel #zoa

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tibby · 1 year

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hey tibby, i got two questions about saw for you. firstly, when do you think the saw movies take place? like what specific year/s? i know theres a few writing errors when it comes to years in the franchise (the tag on jigsaw’s foot at the autopsy, for example) so i’m just trying to see what would make sense despite these errors.

also. what would the spiral killers role be in Jigsaw the family sitcom (more important than the other question)

i am a firm "saw the first movie takes place in 2004" believer. yeah yeah the idea of it happening the day before 9/11 is funny but it doesn't work with the few established dates we do have (gideon night takes place in late october of 2006, hoffman's sister is murdered in 1997 and baxter is released from prison after five years which makes hoffman's revenge kill and recruitment from john in 2002 at the EARLIEST, trying to include a coherent timeline of events by including jigsaw is impossible but fwiw logan was in the iraq war. i think. i don't remember the movie). also the idea that amanda and john manually set up the phone to that date just to fuck with them is also very funny to me. and my research suggests that the motorola used was released in q4 of 2001, which means it came out in october at the earliest. but nothing is conclusive and i respect all walks of life etc etc.

generally though from the time amanda is recruited (april 2004, because i do believe bathroom trap takes place in september regardless of the year and lawrence mentions being interviewed by police five months prior) through to the end of the final chapter (late 2006) it's like a 2.5 year time frame. nerve gas house takes place at least a year after bathroom trap, gideon night is six months after nerve gas house, and the events of v/vi/vii shortly follow. again, no canon confirmation, but given strahm's throat is still bandaged in v we can assume his tracheotomy wasn't that long ago and he dies like the day after being discharged from the hospital. and then hoffman's vi/vii clownery is like two nights back to back. so that's that. early to mid 2000s over a three year time period.

unfortunately the spiral killers don't really play a big role in jigsaw the sitcom simply because it takes place like 15-20 years later. which is a tragedy because i think jigsaw fanboy william emmerson/schenk having the worst "don't meet your heroes" experience of all time only to not learn from it is hilarious to me. i did vaguely conceptualise an episode where he starts his silly little copycat killings and they have to come out of retirement to trap his ass because oh now we gotta be responsible for this clown. and william really does think it's an honour that a bunch of middle aged retired murderers have reunited just to torture him.

my beloved dizzy did write a fic about this concept (not sitcom nonsense but adam/amanda/hoffman live and william loves team maim and kill). unfortunately my concept of retired-but-still-completely-off-their-rockers hoffstrahm (they're NOT dating and they're absolutely NOT married and strahm is still trying to prove hoffman is guilty and hoffman still plans on killing him one day but they do live together and have weird gay sex and are trying to figure out how to get married for tax benefits without actually getting married) having a honey where IS my supersuit moment from the incredibles about the glass coffin didn't make the cut. but we can imagine it <3

they also all try to impart "queer elder wisdom" (see: absolutely horrendous dating tips) onto william to help him with zeke. unfortunately he takes their word as gospel. hence the whole "torturing you and sending you body parts" stage of the flirting process. it's dawning on me that this message is completely incomprehensible i'm sorry. missed saying absolute nonsense about these movies to a public audience.

#sawposting #jigsquad #ask #anonymous #also i have like eight billion asks im sorry. they will happen. somehow. eventually.

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mollysunder · 8 months

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Everytime it Wasn't Swain

After rewatching Arcane, I decided to make a list for everytime Swain was almost there. You thought he was being alluded to, but he wasn't, it was actually something else. Or was it?

1. The Crows

Swain has ravens, not crows, there just happen to be a suspiciously large quantity of crows, for a port city, instead of seagulls. As the show went on, the arrival of crows became synonymous with Jinx's presence and vice versa. It's not hard to see why, crows are intelligent and naturally social birds that do well in urban ecosystems, they just have a mixed reputation as good and bad omens. On a narrative level, the presence of crows does have interesting implications. Crows and ravens are easily confused for the other if you don't know what to look for. And the more I read about Swain, the more I notice that he and Jinx (in Arcane) are similar in some regards. Not just the fact they killed and maimed their family members, that's not uncommon for League backstories for some reason. From a storytelling standpoint, they both serve as living embodiment of their respective nations, good and bad, that other characters have to react to. And it was their actions that changed the trajectory of their nations.

What's even more interesting is that crows and raven in real life don't get along, they're incredibly territorial and avoid one another. If they do cross paths, crows are more likely to pick a fight with ravens. Despite the raven being bigger, crows band together in large groups to fend off ravens from their nesting areas, sort of like they harass them away. Food for thought.

2. The Man Named Jericho but not Swain

This one was cute. It took me a while to realize that they both had the same first name, except Swain has a last name, which is Swain. The first time his name was mentioned was when Vi and Caitlyn were on the search for Silco, but Vi was really on the search for Jinx. Funny enough, Jericho's apron and pants looks like the Jinx's outfit. I know plenty of people wear pinstripes in Zaun, but the black triangle with the 'X' in the center was pretty on the nose. On one hand this shot could foreshadow the way Jinx's actions come between Caitlyn and Vi. On the other, that's not as fun, and I want to know if this makes Jericho a Jinx stan! Seriously, maybe it's another hint at the way Zaun and Noxus are similar threats to Piltover, just in different clothes. Or Swain's a Jinx stan too!

3. The Palette Portrait

I've watched Arcane more than once and never managed to see it before, and wasn't too sure it was Swain until I outlined the figure myself. There he is long white hair, red magic hand, widow's peak, and sharp profile. In context, this is part of the scene where Mel is aggressively painting while Jayce apologizes for leaving her alone in bed the night Viktor collapsed. It's the first time Jayce and the audience sees her paint, and is essentially one of the first moments we get to see a part of her inner life. In this exact shot she says, "There's a lot you don't know about me". I'd say pretty on the nose to say this is foreshadowing her past connections to Noxus. But there's small things that are off, for example, Swain is draped in red rather than a severe black. And his face is dark while he's a white man, the color choices actually fit Ambessa more than Swain. Another fake out? Or maybe it means that there's no difference between people like Swain and Ambessa in the grand scheme of Noxus' war machine.

All in all I found three times Swain's presence was almost confirmed, but instead was something or someone else. There was always one or two details off to make it so. Each time there was an "almost Swain" connection, it was usually in association with Jinx or Mel, a cast member actually from Noxus. Swain, or at least the concept of Swain, seems to haunt the Mel's past and Jinx's future.

#arcane #jinx arcane #mel medarda #jericho arcane #jericho swain #swain lol #you know the saying #once is chance #twice is coincidence #third times a pattern #jinx making zaun look untenable as a future colony to ward off swain and noxus in general #maybe this is the last time I mention Swain finally

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