#only half related though. since it’s the second most popular language in my country we had some classes as kids and some media that was

[purplesurveys]

1085

survey by -egocentricity-

On Myspace, what was in the last bulletin you posted? I haven’t been on Myspace for well over a decade; and even when I was there I didn’t have any friends added nor did I remember ever posting anything. Friendster and Multiply were a lot more popular.

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? I took a selfie last Saturday in the dining room. It’s of me holding up the vape pen that Andi lent me for the meantime to show Angela, since she wanted to see what it looked like.

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? I remember being lightly chided once when I was like, 7 – I was leaning on a glass wall of a store in the mall, so the guard from that store nicely told me to get back up to be safe. Overall, I don’t think I’ve ever exhibited behavior in public that should’ve gotten me into trouble.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? Definitely not so much these days. I need to keep being preoccupied with work or other things to do/accomplish since my daydreaming always seems to end with thinking of scenarios that now upset me, like, idk, happier times with my ex. I’m tired of letting that happen and always being upset in the end, so I try to avoid getting lost in my thoughts anymore.

What's your favorite thing to think about as you're falling asleep? Idk about you but thinking in general keeps my mind up and racing lol, so when I’m trying to sleep I do my best to black out my mind so that I can doze off.

Is there anything that you want to do, but won't because you're too afraid? So I went to college with this girl - I believe she’s several batches older - who, as soon as she graduated, set out on a hitchhiking journey across the world. She’s been doing it for four years, and I believe she has finally made it to Europe after being stuck in Kazakhstan for a year due to Covid. She’s amazing and her spirit is so fucking beautiful. She has a Facebook page that I actively follow detailing her experiences; but as great as her journey has been, I don’t know and I highly doubt that I can set out for such a demanding, commitment-heavy challenge myself.

Who was the last person to yell at you? My mom is the only person who does that, but she hasn’t done so in a while.

Who gets up the earliest in your household? The latest? My dad, since his work starts the earliest. I will sometimes hear the car engine purring by 5:45 AM. The latest would be my sister, since she stays up the latest as well. I think she’s up by 8 AM, but she doesn’t show up outside of her bedroom until 10 or 11.

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? No, and I am glad that’s the case because both of my dogs are too big and I fear that they could actually snap my laptop in half.

What political issues do you think deserve less attention/worry? No political issue deserves any less attention than others. Political issues always mean that someone is on the losing end and I don’t think it’s fair to compare and decide which ones can be put on the backseat. 

Anyway, I do believe it’s not so much the issues that should be compared, but the people in politics who are given the spotlight. Here in the Philippines especially, a lot of celebrities want to have their own political careers (and usually win a seat) despite their zero experience and the media gobbles that shit up all the time, which is disgusting. Related to this, I hope the media makes a consicous effort to wipe Trump out of the headlines once he’s out of office.

Which political issues are you most passionate about? I dunno if I can measure that since I’m pretty vocal about a lot of things. What I can tell you is that in the political issues I have a say in, I always side with the marginalized and the oppressed. IPs, POC, LGBTQ+, immigrants, factory workers, jeepney drivers, contractualized employees, activists, student-activists...my heart has always been with them and their cause.

You're going to your favorite foreign country; what landmarks do you go see? I’m not sure if I have a favorite country, but I’m very picky about landmarks in general anyway. I’d rather experience the local life and eat at smaller local places and go to lesser-known beaches and stuff.

What is the longest amount of time that you have spent away from your home? A little longer than a week, and this was usually when I traveled abroad.

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional effect on you? Yeah, so much so that I was unable to finish it and I had to show up at dinner while still fresh from crying.

What motivates you to go to school? Not applicable to me anymore, but I suppose this can be easily rephrased to mean work. Honestly, my main motivation is the desire to have a perfect record at work lol. I’m super neurotic about this and I hate the idea of being absent or late. Money comes second; I rarely buy stuff for myself so I mostly don’t even realize the money coming in to my account every two weeks. Then third is the desire to be good at my job because I do want to get promoted and rack up more positions as I go along.

How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? The most cups of coffee I’ve had in one day is 3, and that was not an enjoyable experience ha. Right now, I’m on my first cup of coffee.

Are you more hyper and up-tight, or laid back and relaxed? I guess it depends on the situation. I can definitely exhibit either, but my behavior will vary based on the people I’m with and/or how comfortable I am in a certain situation.

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? Around a week ago. My parents were having dinner separately and I heard my name being mentioned in a few sentences.

How did you pick out your last outfit? I wanted an outfit that was chill and easy to carry around, but would still make me look like I put some effort into picking it out.

When buying shoes, what do you look for in the product? I admittedly like brand names, so that’s the first thing I look at. I also like to keep up with what’s trending, so I look at items in a brand’s catalog that I see more and more people wearing. If it matches with my own personal style, then I keep an eye on it/purchase it altogether.

What happened to cause the last mess you made? The last and current mess I have on me is my work desk, which I’ve since abandoned in favor of my bed + portable desk as my new workspace. Idk, over the Christmas break I just ended up stacking up so much shit on the desk until it became a little too cluttered. I’ve cleaned it up here and there to make the space look neater, but there’s still a lot of stuff.

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? Not embarrassed; I just find it unnecessary. My bedroom is too small to host guests and the only times I’ve let someone in there is when I had a significant other. I prefer people to stay in the living room.

When was the last children's birthday party you attended? It was my third cousin Isabella’s 7th birthday party at a Jollibee. Her family has been living in Australia for a while, but I guess they wanted to host a party with their Filipino family so they flew back here to stay for a few days. Because she is my third cousin and because she’s been living in Australia all her life, I don’t actually have any sort of relationship with her lmao but I still made an effort to greet her and stuff.

Are you good at reading other people's body language? Yes, to the point that it contributes to my overall anxiety.

If you're sick, do you go to school or do you stay home [usually]? I rarely get a fever so when I do it feels like actual death. For that reason, I usually have to skip the day and focus on feeling better.

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? I never had it whenever I’ve felt like crap in the past. I don’t really like soup though, so on a personal level I doubt it would have any effect on me.

What is one meal that you like to eat whilst sick? I don’t have a go-to meal because again, I rarely get sick.

Think of the last survey you filled out; did you enjoy it? Sure, it was easy to digest and it’s the kind that you can take over and over again.

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? I’ve fed bread, but to fish in the sea; not ducks or geese since idk if we have either here other than in zoos. In our trip to Mactan in 2010, I remember how we were allowed to pay a certain small amount to get bread from the resort and proceed to feed the fish swimming around in the beach.

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a 1-2 year old? Yeah, I definitely feel that way sometimes.

What set the tone for your mood today? Eh, I wouldn’t say I had an overall mood today, honestly. It was a normal day at work, maybe a little more uneventful than other days; and I was on top of my tasks so there wasn’t anything to dread or worry about. I was just concentrated on getting the day over with and wasn’t strongly attached to any emotion.

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else's day? I don’t think so.

Have you ever felt like the whole world was against you? It happens sometimes.

The name of the last video game you played? Mario Kart 8 probably? It’s been a while but it’s all I play if I do play a video game, so it’s a safe guess.

The name of the last board game that you played? We whipped out my old box of Trivial Pursuit last November when we didn’t have electricity and internet because of the typhoon.

What was the last thing that you told yourself? I don’t remember the last time I talked to myself, but like two minutes ago I was starting to feel sad so I silently reminded myself to think of positive things.

How many times a day do you wash your face? At least once, in the morning before I start work. I’ve learned that cleaning myself up, even if it’s just splashing water on my face, super helps if I want to start working in a good mood.

Do you remember your D.A.R.E. officer's name? I didn’t have one of those, anddd I’m sure we didn’t have that program here.

Someone throws hot coffee on you; how do you react? It’s taken me a whole goddamn week to finish this survey, lels. Anywho... I think out of instinct I would scream out in extreme agony first? And I’d probably spend the first immediate seconds to try and process what just happened. I don’t know if I would fight back because I’m pretty sure the burns would be hurting too badly for me to focus on revenge.

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? I attended one school from kindergarten to college, and I can’t imagine having attended anywhere else. I had one dream university and I ended up attending it.

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? Yes, both. My parents lived in an apartment for a few months when I was a newborn. From ages 2-10 I lived in my childhood home, which is actually a duplex. The other house belongs to my grandpa’s late sister and her family.

Has anyone ever commented on your weight? Sure, but I care so little about my weight that they don’t really have an effect on me. The most common one I get is to “eat more.”

Where do you stand when it comes to sexual intercourse? Erm not really lmao. Just do it?? Idk. And just make sure consent is mutual and that you aren’t doing it out of pressure.

Name a show from the 90's that you miss? I guess ‘miss’ is the wrong word since I never watched it while it was ongoing, but I do love Friends. I’m excited to see what they have planned for the reunion episode.

Who provokes your sarcastic side the most? Bad co-workers, but luckily I haven’t had to pull that side of me in a while.

Have you ever thought about joining the military? Never.

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or "different" people? Being a kid, I probably did but never thought anything of it during those times. My mom certainly would’ve whooped my ass if I tried to comment anything mean or be a smartass.

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? The one thing that would piss my mom off are my vape pens. I still have Gab-related stuff in my room that I’m too lazy to throw out, but I doubt I will get into trouble from those anymore because there has been no relationship to speak of in the last four months.

Do weather patterns sometimes have an effect on your health? Not on my health, but on my mood.

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? It doesn’t, so idk what this would feel like.

When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing? Not entirely sure; this hasn’t happened in a while. Admittedly, as a people pleaser, I thrive on doing what people would want me to do lol.

How good are you at getting along with other people? On a scale of 1 to 10, probably a 9? I’m super nice to everyone and in the end it only really boils down to whether I have chemistry with them or not. If I fail to feel comfortable around someone I’m more likely to stay formal, but I do try to be lively and crack jokes with everyone as much as I can.

Do you consider yourself to be approachable? I want to be and I always try to come off as such, but my resting bitchface hurts that chance sometimes haha.

Do you know anyone that's a little emotionally unstable? Uhm, no one comes to mind.

Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? Yes.

Has anyone ever suggested that you might need "help"? I don’t recall being told this by anyone before. But with the way I broadcast my anxiety and sadness from time to time, I’m sure people have thought of it.

Do you take offense to things easily? Yeah you can say that. I’ve always been more sensitive than most.

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines? As with any pick-up line, I inwardly roll my eyes and move on.

Do you like to give people a taste of their own medicine? It’s such a waste of time and energy for the most part, so no. But if I feel petty, I have no problem doing it.

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? It was...fine. Nothing to write home about. It was unlimited Korean barbecue and they actually had a system in place where they gave us a link to some internal website they kept, and we could simply order from there to minimize contact with the servers. I will say that I never got the kimchi jjigae I had ordered, but it was fine because I was full by then lmao.

Are you ever jealous of happy couples? No. I mean, I guess I’m reminded of my loneliness when I see couples in public, but I don’t get jealous or angry. I just shake it off and try to focus on myself.

Describe a thought that is sticking with you today? That I can’t wait for Friday.

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? I’ve been thinking more of my anxieties than certain people, tbh.

In a car: air conditioning, or roll the windows down? Air conditioning. Though sometimes it’s nice to have the windows down, especially when I’m driving within my village or up a mountain.

When was the last time you did anything to your playlist? I made an angst-themed playlist over the weekend.

Is there a new song or band you've discovered? Massive Attack. Hayley Williams did a super great cover of their song Teardrop, so I checked out the original version which I also ended up enjoying. Olivia Rodrigo too, who I found out is part Filipino yay!

Which teacher gives you the most homework? My Journalism Ethics professor will probably rank the highest on this list.

What type of personality do you find most annoying? Idk, condescending ones maybe? There are a million kinds of personalities lol, but yeah I hate those who make you feel dumb, and feel good about doing so.

How did you hear about Bzoink? If my memory serves me correctly, my 10 year old self just wanted empty about me surveys to answer. Bzoink was always one of the first websites to come out if I searched for surveys on Google.

How long did it take you to sign up for an account - if you have one? I don’t think I ever made an account on there since I was too shy to share my answers.

Are you punctual? Yes, very.

Have you ever howled at the full moon? No.

Have you ever seen yourself on camera? Like if I’ve seen photos of myself??? I would be very surprised if anyone can say they haven’t.

Do you give any consideration to what's said in your horoscope? No.

When was the last time you felt like you were being followed? This has never happened before, thankfully.

#survey #surveys

[closetofanxiety]

Mania Madness: In Queens With Queens Quest

Wrestlemania was in New York this year (well, New Jersey, but you know what they mean), and since I live about two and a half hours away, I felt like I would be failing in my duties as a wrestling fan if I didn’t attend some of the related events. Make no mistake: I did not want to go to Wrestlemania itself, as the idea of sitting in a football stadium and squinting at a faraway shape that might be Buddy Murphy in the springtime chill is not high on my bucket list. But there were lots of other things to do, and I did very few of them! I did go to see the Stardom show in Queens and to WrestleCon in Manhattan, though, and herewith are my observations, jotted down for posterity and, hopefully, your amusement and/or edification:

FRIDAY

I think this is only the second time Stardom has run a show in the U.S., and it’s definitely the first time they’ve done it amidst the surge of popularity they’ve experienced in the GIF era. Although going to visit Hakujinjoe in Tokyo is a goal towards which I am even now socking away money, there’s no guarantee that I’ll ever actually get to see Stardom in Japan, and so this was the must-see event of the weekend for me.

This anticipation was accompanied by two apprehensions: First, my nature reluctance to drive in New York City, even in the outer boroughs. I live in the woods, and your city ways frighten and confuse me. Second, based on many of the US joshi fans I have encountered online, I worried this crowd would basically be a giant convention for creepers, perverts, rageaholic gatekeepers, scam artists peddling $300 autographed gravure DVDs, and people who seem to have only a dim understanding that the characters portrayed in the ring are not, in fact, identical with the women portraying them. Listen: I am not exactly Cary Grant when it comes to wit and charm, and just being an American who watches Japanese women’s wrestling puts me among a tiny percentage of hardcore nerds, so I hope this doesn’t come off as haughty. But there are good nerds, and then there are the nerds we encounter online way too often.

The first apprehension turned out to be baseless, as I got to Queens with plenty of time to spare and, like most joshi fans, headed over to the Rufus King Homestead on Jamaica Avenue for a tour of the mansion once owned by the fiery antislavery advocate and signatory to the Constitution. OK, so I was the only joshi fan who toured the Rufus King Homestead (in fact, I was the only person, period; Rufus does not get much love), but I still learned a lot. Rufus King used to loan money at exorbitant rates to local farmers who owned slaves, and when they couldn’t pay him back, he’d accept the enslaved people as collateral, only to immediatly free them. Rufus King, Loan Shark For Justice!

It turns out the second apprehension was also baseles, because the crowd turned out to be full of awesome people. Really friendly, outgoing, and super enthusiastic nerds, the best kind of nerd, really. The dominant attitude was not, “Oh you like Stardom? Name five of their faction drafts” but “I can’t believe we all get to see this awesome show together.” It was also, by a country mile, the most diverse indie wrestling crowd I’ve been part of, and about 35-40 percent of the people in attendance were women, which really made the whole experience better. I’m not saying everyone was awesome, but it was definitely a fun group of people to be part of for an afternoon. I am ashamed that I assumed it would be full of unbearable dweebs.

So, that out of the way, here’s the highlights of the show, in the time-honored spaghetti Western sytem of categorization:

THE GOOD

Momo Watanabe vs. Utami Hayashishita: Easily the match of the day, and one of the best matches I’ve seen all year. The Queen’s Quest teammates were batling for Momo’s Wonder of Stardom title, which she won from the departing Io Shirai last year. I don’t just like Momo, I identify with her image as the studious but introverted nerd kid who thinks hard work and playing by the rules is enough to guarantee success, only to be constantly frustrated as flashier peers take shortcuts to the top. The tension between these two has been building since Utami’s debut last year and subsequent mega-push as The Big Rookie and Utami All-the-Belts. Momo, who put in years of quiet, dedicated work as Io’s understudy, is in danger of being usurped as Queen’s Quest leader by the newcomer before her tenure has really even gotten under way. This is a great basis for a wrestling match, and these two, aware they were in front of their biggest audience outside of Japan not just in person but watching on Fite, rose to the occasion. I’m terrible at describing wrestling matches, but this was a nailbiter full of near-falls and what-will-it-take kickouts that felt earned rather than slathered on. It helped that the crowd was rabid, with Utami having a slight edge, WHICH ONLY SERVED TO MAKE ME CHEER LOUDER FOR MOMO. I honestly had no idea who was going to win: normally you’d know the champ would retain in an away match like this, but having their second most important belt change hands would also have been a great way to make a splash in their New York debut. In the end, though, Momo retained with her Peach Sunrise finisher and I LOST IT.

Stars vs. Oedo Tai: The villainous but lovable Oedo Tai were over like crazy with this crowd, and people went bananas when they came out to do their pre-match war dance. They could have basically just done that and most people would have been, but they had a fun elimination match with the Stars faction. A lot of zany action in this and a genuine surprise elimination of Kagetsu midway through. The only missing piece of the puzzle was Sumire Natsu, who didn’t come over with the company, possibly because she’s a freelancer. She made appearances at Tokyo BDSM clubs instead during Mania weekend, which is the most Sumire Natsu thing ever.

Yurie Kozakai doing the ring introductions: Stardom was really smart about the idea that they were giving fans in New York “a real Stardom show,” and having the promotion’s normal ring announcer introduce the wrestlers was a perfect touch.

Hana Kimura: The newest Stardom signing looked like a superstar and basked in the crowd’s adulation during a three-way tag match that also involved Konami and Bea Priestley (making her US debut?) and Britt Baker and Brittany Blake, who should have called themselves the Britt-ish. No? I’m - I’m [putting my finger to my ear, like I’m listening] I’m being told “No, they should not have called themselves that.” Anyway, the match was fun but insubstantial, but Hana’s charisma is off the charts.

THE BAD

IPW:UK ran a show at the venue (the NYC Arena, which is an arena only in the sense that a mid-sized nightclub is an arena) right before Stardom, using House of Glory’s ring (the compromises and arrangements of Mania Weekend!), and the bottom rope broke. The effort to fix the broken rope was mostly unsuccessful, and also delayed the opening of doors at the venue by nearly an hour, meaning 600 hearty nerds were standing in line in 39 degree weather, with sleet pelting us. The paperback I had brought to pass the time in line was USELESS. On the lemons-lemonade side of things, though, this did mean we were all in line when Stardom’s bus rolled up, and all the wrestlers disembarked to head inside. Big cheers from the crowd, which obviously delighted the wrestlers. “It’s gonna be awesome!” Hana yelled at us. It was! Once we got out of the sleet

The broken rope delay also meant they had to cut the already abbreviated (five matches) show short, and it showed. The first three matches were all obviously truncated, with the High Speed title match between Hazuki and Dust suffering the most for it. Don’t get me wrong, it was good, and I was impressed by Dust, who’s new to me, but it felt like they were just starting to get going when it ended. IPW:UK, YOU ARE NOW MY ENEMY. OR MAYBE HOUSE OF GLORY, I DON’T KNOW. SOMEONE. 

THE UGLY

Maybe half the appeal of this thing was the promised meet and greet afterward, but the meet and greet was more chaotic and less organized than Kelley Square at rush hour (sorry, this is a Worcester reference, Worcester people will know this). Nobody seemed to know where to stand, lots of fans didn’t realize they had to buy little tickets before meeting the wrestlers, and as someone whose job sometimes involves putting up signs in medical buildings, the lack of even rudimentary paper signage was APPALLING. This did not stop me from getting nerdy fan pics with Hana Kimura, Kagetsu, Momo Watanabe, Mayu Iwatani, and Konami. Hazuki left her table before I could get to her, and this failure will haunt the remainder of my days upon this earth. Possibly. The wrestlers all had pieces of paper with common American names written on them, so they’d know how to address the autographed pictures, which was sweet. Hana has great conversational English. There was no line when I went up to Konami, which is preposterous. Konami rules, fellow nerds. The whole thing was nice, and the language barrier prevented any of that thing where guys try to unburden their psyches onto female wrestlers in a bid to make some kind of emotional connection. JUST SMILE FOR THE CAMERA AND MOVE ALONG, PAL.

Also, apparently the Fite stream was choppy as hell and cut out completely right at the end of the Momo-Utami match, and only came back after it was over. Glad I went in person!

In part two, we’ll cover the gregarious Jesse Ventura, the surprising lack of merch slingers at WrestleCon, and the puzzling fame of that fan who had a cardboard sign saying “FACE FUCK ME FINN” at a Takeover a few years ago.

#Stardom #joshi puroresu #makin towns #Mania Weekend #show reviews

[emmatrustsno-one]

On the dual-layered representation of British class in Harry Potter

You should go to my blog and read my post about food in Harry Potter and my two part essay on the British class system before you read this, as it won’t make sense otherwise!

In this post I will explore how there are two class systems at work in Harry Potter and how they revolve around blood status and power relations. On the one hand there is the wizarding one: pure bloods represent the upper-class, half-bloods the middle-class and muggleborns (and by extension muggles) the working-class. Muggles might be said to represent the modern ‘underclass’ that I discussed in my essay: the bottom layer of society that has never worked (or in wizarding terms, has never had magical power). On the other hand there is also the real British class system. That exists, encoded into the characters, both in fictional terms, in the muggle world, and also in real, meta terms, i.e. although Ron, for example, never lives in the muggle world, he is still encoded with a real/muggle world class, which is only visible to the reader. In this post I will show how class is encoded using only general knowledge of the characters and specific references from The Philosopher’s Stone. I will discuss references from the other books at a later date.

Let’s start with the Weasleys, then. The Weasleys are pure bloods. They are on the sacred 28. According to the wizarding class system they are upper-class. They are magically privileged. They have access to unlimited magical knowledge, they are guaranteed a place at a prestigious school (provided they are not squibs, presumably), they are educated to the highest level available in the wizarding world, apart from Fred and George, but they chose not to finish their NEWTS. They are able to access jobs in the government. Bill and Charlie have had the opportunity to live and work abroad. The family knows important people in the wizarding world, like the minister, Dumbledore and Mad-Eye.

Moreover, whatever the books might say, it is certain that being raised in a muggle family will affect your progress at school, at least at first. Simply by having spent 11 years absorbing the wizarding world, by default, pure-bloods like the Weasleys are going to have a head start. Half-bloods will also have an advantage over muggleborns, but not as much as pure-bloods do. Because of this it is sensible to assume that muggleborns, and to a lesser extent half-bloods, will have to work harder at school to achieve as highly as pure-bloods. The work ethic difference between Ron and Hermione says this in volumes. He is lazy and doesn’t listen in lessons or do his work properly, but he still gets good marks. Hermione works herself into the ground trying to close the gap and ensure she can reach her potential. Also, Crabbe and Goyle pass their exams at the end of the year, despite being portrayed as stupid.

Ron and his siblings never have to worry about not knowing what’s going on, or feel like an outsider, in the way Harry and Hermione do. We see Harry feel stupid at his ignorance multiple times. While waiting for the sorting he wonders whether he will have to get a rabbit out of the hat, which shows that, not only is he clueless, but he is even disadvantaged by the prior knowledge he thinks he has because that’s not even correct.

Even though nobody seems to say this is in fandom, the Weasleys definitely show signs of (unconsciously) seeing muggles as inferior. For example, while talking to Harry on the train, Ron says his mum has a second cousin who’s an accountant, but the family never talk about them. They act like that person doesn’t exist just because they are the one non-wizard in the family. Towards the end of the book, Ron makes fun of Hermione for forgetting she can start a fire without wood. It’s light-hearted and there’s no malice meant, but nevertheless he is making fun of the ignorance she has due to being muggleborn and demonstrating that because of the way he thinks, in this world he is privileged.

In real terms, the Weasleys are working-class, however, and not just because they are poor. Yes, being poor is a big part of it, but it’s more than that. I’m not sure about other countries, but in Britain having red hair and lots of children is a direct reference to a stereotype of catholic families, especially in Scotland, who often have red hair due to celtic roots and have large families due to not using contraception. Having lots of kids is also a fact of the working-class in general, as you might have seen if you looked at the photos I posted in my last blog. They do tend to have more children than they can afford (of course, I am generalising for clarity – no offense is meant). Linked in with this is their clothes. Due to being poor, working-class people, especially at the time JKR conceived HP, often wore used clothes or clothes that belonged to their siblings, and often they were damaged or worn out. When Malfoy says “red hair and hand-me-down robes, no need to ask who you are”, he could have easily said “working-class” or “catholic” instead of “a Weasley”.

In addition, when we first meet Ron his nose is dirty, which alludes to his not being quite as clean as others, and rather than having money to buy lunch, he has been given some dry sandwiches by his mother. He doesn’t like corned beef, but he’s got it probably because that’s what they can afford: it is a cheaper, processed meat. The fact that the sandwiches are dry shows that the bread was perhaps not fresh and neither was the corned beef. The state of the sandwiches and the fact that Ron doesn’t even like what she’s given him, show that Mrs. Weasley is not just poor, but also so busy that she isn’t on top of things at home. While Ron and Harry are talking on the train, Ron almost lets it slip that his parents can’t afford things but stops himself and gets embarrassed. As Harry points out, there’s nothing wrong with not being able to afford something, but Ron is under pressure from two things here. 1. To maintain his privilege in the wizarding world, he needs to downplay the fact of his poverty in front of other wizards, since privilege is usually so bound up with wealth. 2. He has the same kind of strong pride that the real world working-class had/have and doesn’t want people to know his family have anything not to be proud of. When you don’t have much, dignity is about all you’ve got.

Another element showing the Weasleys are real world working-class is the homemade Christmas presents, because they can’t afford to spend much. The battle inside Ron between being proud but not showing his lack of wealth is also evident when Fred and George pull him up on his reluctance to wear his Christmas jumper. However, he is proud, so ultimately he puts it on, despite his worries. It isn’t a coincidence that Fred and George are more consistently and vocally proud and unembarrassed about their real world working-class status than their siblings and that they also end up taking a non-academic route in life.

Percy is an interesting character to look at in class terms because he doesn’t have the pride that keeps Ron and the others close to the family. He is far more worried about losing privilege because of their real world working-class status. This will come up more in later posts about the other books, but in PS we see that Percy, unlike any of the other Weasley children, calls his parents ‘mother’ and ‘father’. Use of language is an important part of creating class boundaries, e.g. upper-class and some middle-class children in Britain call their parents ‘mother’ and ‘father’. Working-class and most middle-class children call their parents a short, monosyllabic name, usually, though not always, ‘mum’ and ‘dad’. In calling his parents ‘mother’ and ‘father’, Percy is showing that he is aware how differences in class are shown and he is aspiring to be ‘better’. He is ambitious and wants to work in government, and he knows it will be harder as an adult to profit from his privilege unless he has obvious markers of it. Therefore, he adopts vocabulary he knows the upper-class use. Also, Percy protests a lot more than Ron at having to wear his Christmas jumper. I feel sorry for him when Fred and George try to force him into it – they and Ron aren’t as ambitious as him. It isn’t such a big deal for them if they fail to get a good reputation with other pure-blood (i.e. upper-class) wizards as it is for Percy – he needs to make contacts and show he can mix with the people at the top, if his dreams of working in government are to come true. He does behave badly in later books, but it’s not as simple as “he’s an arsehole”. He is trying to stop himself being held back by his class.

The language the Weasleys use in general often portrays them as real world working-class. Unlike most other pure-blood families, who fit the upper-class stereotype of crazy names, the Weasleys’ children all have simple, salt-of-the-earth names that are common for working-class people. Even Arthur and Molly do. Ginny is an exception, of course. Perhaps Mrs. Weasley named her at the height of the ‘give your daughter a crazy name’ trend, where names like ‘Keisha’ and ‘Dixie’ were popular. They also don’t really use very sophisticated vocabulary or structures that would be called ‘posh’ in Britain. Their pronunciation and accent, however, is not written as dialect though. This might be due in part to them being from the south and the countryside – as I’ll discuss later, speech gets less standard the more north you go. It also suggests that they have aspirations beyond their class – affecting a ‘posher’ voice to give the impression of being ‘better’. Occasionally you see Ron say things like “nope”, which supports that idea that there is non-standard speech under their façade. Conversely, it reminds you that they are, by some standards (wizarding ones), upper-class, but they are choosing not to conform.

We don’t see their house until CoS, but once we do we find out that it is barely adequate for their needs, cramped and untidy. As I’ve said before, they also eat foods associated most with the working-class, such as boiled potatoes, pie and processed meats.

Hermione is almost the opposite of Ron. In the real world she is middle-class, probably upper middle. We know this not just because her parents are dentists. Her whole manner on the train screams it but it’s also somehow very subtle. It’s hard to articulate it. She is mature and disapproves of childish behaviour, meaning she has probably been brought up to behave reservedly. She is confident and assertive in a way suggesting she has lived a comfortable life without many things to worry about being criticised about. She clearly has faith of her convictions and doesn’t suffer from the self-doubt that characterises working-class children.

She is described as having a “sniffy” voice, which is another way of saying she talks to people with her nose in the air, as if looking down at them arrogantly. The way she unashamedly blurts out about how much she knows and can do, and also bluntly criticises Ron’s attempted spell, also screams privilege. Working-class people tend to be more cagey or modest about their knowledge and abilities, not wanting to seem superior to others and make them feel bad. Hermione clearly has no awareness of how her boasting could make others feel, especially if they are less fortunate. Higher class people tend to be like this because they don’t have much experience of mixing with people who haven’t had the same opportunities they have. The way she voices her shock that Harry hasn’t researched himself – he hasn’t had the education to know how to do that. The way she ignores what Ron’s saying and talks over him. Something about the way she words things, especially at first, before her status in the wizarding world is fully established, sounds posh.

It is Hermione who points out that Ron has dirt on his nose, even though he has been sitting with Harry for ages. Harry never mentioned it because as a working-class person it wasn’t as noticeable to him and he would have been less likely to want to criticise and make Ron feel self-conscious. Cleanliness and appearance are more important to Hermione, and she lacks the tact needed to talk nicely to an underprivileged child. The fact that she changes into her robes so early suggests that she is familiar with the process of travelling to boarding school and also that she values formality, which is another marker of the higher classes.

Her boasting on the train isn’t the only allusion to a good education. She is bookish to the point of considering huge tomes “light-reading”, understands how to use a library to do research and how to revise for exams, is bursting with independent enquiry and good at writing essays. To have these capabilities at 11 strongly suggest she went to a private primary school. Her possession of these skills is the reason she chastised Harry for not researching himself – it’s normal to her. But Harry, he’s 11 and went to his local state primary school; independent thought was stifled at home; he had no chance to do that. Her bookishness also shows that she understands that knowledge is power.

However, as a muggleborn, she is in the wizarding working-class. Moreover, she is acutely aware of it. She has had no prior access to magical knowledge. As soon as she found out she was going to Hogwarts she bought many books and spent the summer reading up and trying to offset that disadvantage. She often feels out of place and like an outsider. This is another dimension to her changing into robes early – she wanted to show she belonged. It’s also why she kept nagging everyone else to change – she had changed to fit in but it wasn’t working as no-one else looked like her yet. Her boasting on the train stemmed from anxiety as well as privilege. She wanted to convince everyone, including herself, that she merited her place in the wizarding world. As other fans have pointed out, this is why she works so hard and places school at the top of her priority list, and why she fears academic failure: she wants to prove she belongs, close the gap between herself and those with wizarding blood and to have access to the top echelons of society, because she knows from experience how important that is. When she says, “we could have all been killed – or worse, expelled”, she doesn’t just mean expelled from school, she means expelled from this layer of society, back into the muggle world, where she would be forever working-class in wizarding terms. Losing her chance to be able to slowly climb the social ladder is worse than death, because it would trap her at the bottom forever. While the first years are waiting to be sorted all Harry could hear was Hermione gabbing on about what she had been doing to prepare. She had prepared because she knew she was disadvantaged, and she was babbling because she was nervous because she felt like an outsider.

Getting on to the Dursleys and Harry then, notice how their mantra is “don’t ask questions”. Asking questions means independent thought and learning new things. The very concept of learning is discouraged in Harry all his life and his environment raises him to not be active learner – a working-class tendency. He is also working-class in other ways. He wears hand-me-down, worn clothes which don’t fit and he has no material wealth. His housing is poor at first – cramped, dark, inadequate and dusty, with insects. Moreover, he occupies such poor housing even though there is a perfectly good, empty room elsewhere in the house (like the large houses higher class people live in while the lower classes have to live in one or two rooms). He is under-fed and his health has been affected: he says he is small and skinny for age. He wears sellotaped glasses, therefore his access to healthcare is limited. He is made to do manual work around the house, such as cooking. His options in life are very limited: he can be in his cupboard, school or Mrs. Figg’s house. The Dursleys talk about him and how they manage his life like he’s too stupid to understand. Harry blushes when Hagrid says he will get him a birthday present – he is so used to not getting anything he feels awkward if he does. Since class relations are power relations, the Dursleys feel that if they keep Harry downtrodden enough they will stamp his abilities out of him. That’s also why Harry, when shopping in Diagon Alley, is looking forward to getting a wand most of all – wands are what gives wizards power. Harry senses that a wand, or power, is a key step to moving up the class ladder.

  In wizarding world terms Harry’s class is unique. He has magical blood. His ancestry isn’t as pure as some – his mother was a witch, but she was a half-blood and his father’s name isn’t pure enough for the sacred 28. Harry isn’t as pure a pure blood as some might like, but is pure enough to be upper-class. Think of it like the main royal family and the rest of the upper-class. Some people are upper-class even though they are only distantly related to the monarch. They are all upper-class, but the monarch and their immediate family are even ‘better’ than the rest of the class – they are the top layer of society. So Harry is upper-class, then, and yet he has next to no power or privilege because he has been brought up as working-class (a muggle). He worries often about not knowing what’s going on at Hogwarts, for example. This shows how silly the entire class system is – Harry is not any better than others by nature. His upper-class blood is useless without the upbringing that goes with it. This is a reminder that upper-class blood does not equate to a divine birth right, however much the upper-class would like to think it does. He does have some privilege, however, once he re-enters the wizarding world. For one, he knows Dumbledore, who is in a position of power. Remember that knowing Dumbledore is not the same as just knowing a headmaster of any school. He is solely in charge of education in the wizarding world. People would have made him minister for magic if he had wanted. He has more power than any other wizard, by the books’ own admission.

The Dursleys themselves, in real world terms, are middle-class. Petunia looks down her nose at people, spies on the neighbours and worries about keeping up appearances. She also acts superior to Lily, even though we later find out that deep down, in wizarding terms, she feels very inferior.  When talking to Dudley, she refers to herself and Vernon as ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’ even when he is grown up, which is characteristic of middle-class families. Vernon works in management and likes shouting at people and seeming important. He also barks orders a lot, which shows he is used to having power over people. They compare Dudley competitively with other children. Whereas Harry is denied the basics, Dudley is entitled: he throws tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants, says “shan’t”, and generally demands material wealth. He also eats extremely well, as do they all. Vernon and Dudley’s weight contrasting with Harry’s is like Mr. Bumble contrasting with Oliver Twist. Dudley is going to a private, possibly public secondary school, whilst Harry is going to the local state school. You can tell Smeltings is at least private due the silly uniform, the fact that he has a place there – suggesting you have to be on some list, or pass some test - and the fact that the school encourages casual violence to build character, much as public schools do.

In some ways, the difference between Harry and Dudley is a good thing, Harry needed that start in life to become the person he is. It’s why he forms such loyal bonds with those important to him, such as Hagrid. It’s why he’s brave enough to make sacrifices. Harry understands muggles and muggleborns because he didn’t have a wizarding upper-class upbringing, and that is what makes him the hero of the story.

In wizarding world terms, however, the Dursleys are as low on the class scale as humans come. They live in constant fear of the power of those higher than them, and not without reason: their first contact with the wizards in almost 11 years ends in their child being badly hurt for wizards’ entertainment (Dudley’s pig tail), as well as being hunted across the country, driven out to sea and found anyway. Hagrid showed that, in comparison to the Dursleys, he is practically omniscient and omnipotent. And he chose to manage his relationship with them using power rather than negotiation.

Hagrid is a half-blood, so in wizarding terms he is middle-class (albeit lower). However, he is also half human, therefore he experiences racism. There is racism in Harry Potter, but it lies in how non-humans are treated, not in the death eaters’ attitudes to half-bloods and muggles. This is a good example of how racism interacts with class: Hagrid had access to education and even now has access to magical power and knowledge despite not technically having a wand. He has a job that gives him responsibility and commands some respect, and he has access to good food and healthcare if he wants it via the great hall and Madam Pomfrey. However, his race, i.e. half-giant, predisposed him to be taken advantage of by others: he got expelled because Riddle’s story in CoS was only too believable for a racist society. Compare that with Islamic extremism today – if a white child accused a half-Pakistani child of harming others at school, they would be believed. Luckily, his middle-class status saved him from being cast out, imprisoned even, because it meant that he knew the right people. If Dumbledore hadn’t spoken out for Hagrid, offered him a job, allowed him a comfortable enough existence at Hogwarts and allowed him continued access to the magical world via caring for magical creatures in the forest and looking the other way when he put his wand in umbrella, then Hagrid would have ended up living a very miserable life. Would he have done or got away with all that if Hagrid was muggleborn?

His attitudes also reveal his wizarding middle-class status. He is prejudiced against muggles, I don’t care what people say. When explaining that there are wizards to Harry he tells Harry that wizards are best off in hiding, away from the muggles and he encourages Harry to curse Dudley once he’s trained up. That attitude also highlights a key thing, that there is other evidence for in later books: wizards are scared of muggles. No matter how much power they have, they are a minority. The same is true of the real upper-class. They are scared that muggles will rise up and overthrow them, just as the real upper-class are (or perhaps were) scared the masses will. He also gets annoyed at the higher classes’ privilege in that way the person who wrote the book review I included in my class essay was: he slags off Slytherin, which favours pure-bloods, every chance he gets and tells Harry that there wasn’t a witch or wizard who was bad who wasn’t in Slytherin, which is not true. At that point he believed Sirius to have gone over and betrayed the Potters. Ok, it was Peter Pettigrew, but either way it was a Gryffindor. In saying those negative things to Harry about Slytherin he set up prejudice in Harry’s own mind. He made it sound like no-one good had been in Slytherin, which is also not true. He is angry that he does not have access to their privilege.

In real words terms Hagrid is working-class, though. His housing is small, basic and clearly inferior to the rest of the housing at Hogwarts. He works the land in exchange for being allowed to remain there, so in this respect it harks back to serfs serving the landed gentry under feudalism. At home he eats food which is less appealing and nutritious than is served in the great hall, and some of it he has because he has hunted it himself, e.g. stoat sandwiches. His appearance is “wild and ungroomed”. He has animals and miscellanea in his coat, which conjures up an image of Compo from Last of the summer wine, which was a TV comedy (though I think it was terrible) about some men in a northern town. Compo is a scruffy working-class man who keeps ferrets, which working-class people in the north used to put down their trousers for a laugh and see who could manage it the longest.

He also doesn’t see the same value in education as someone of a higher-class would: he tells Harry, Rin and Hermione they’re a bit keen to be in the library the day before the holidays. It doesn’t mean he is disparaging of education, but it does show that he can’t see why someone would enjoy books and learning new things. Going to the library is Hermione’s idea of a good time, but Hagrid only associates it with work. Both points of view are valid, but it shows how different they are due to class difference. His writing is untidy, which alludes to a low level of education and his language is most certainly encoded as working-class. In the British version, Hagrid’s speech is written as it sounds. His pronunciation and accent are working-class and arguably northern. He often misses the last letter off words: ‘an’ for ‘and’ ‘righ’ for ‘right’; he doesn’t articulate his /ooo/ sound ‘properly’; rather he flattens it: ‘ter’ for ‘to’ and ‘yeh’ for ‘you’. He also flattens and shortens some words and phrases in a way consistent with working-class speech, e.g. ‘me’ for ‘my’ and ‘gotta’ for ‘got to’. Moreover, some of his grammatical structures are colloquial and associated with working-class speech, e.g.  “it’s them as should be sorry” instead of “it’s them who/that should be sorry” or, as an upper-class person would probably say, “it is they who should be sorry”. The only other person in PS to have their speech written as it sounds is the hotel (which is clearly some small, local shithole) owner in Cokeworth, who says “an ‘undred” instead of “a hundred”. This raises the interesting question of how such speech is translated to other languages, and to what extent translation could prevent you accessing the original class connotations. I have the Russian version of PS and it doesn’t contain, as far as I can tell as a non-native speaker of Russian, any markers that could tell you anything about Hagrid other than that he says “eh/er” a lot. And if you are a native speaker of an English other than British English, is Hagrid’s speech written like that? If so, do you read it and understand what it’s telling the reader about him?

Looking at Malfoy next, it is completely clear that Malfoy is upper-class in both worlds from the moment we meet him. In Madam Malkins he refers to his dad as ‘father’, which I’ve already talked about, he talks about bullying his dad to get things he wants, showing he is entitled and wealthy and Harry describes his voice as “drawling”. This adjective means that you drag out your vowels. In Britain, posher language is characterised by long vowels, whereas more colloquial speech has flattened vowels. There is potential here for Americans not to understand this, if in the American version of PS the word “drawling” is still used, because in American accents “drawl” is usually attributed to the south, which has connotations of sounding like a yokel. Here a drawl is very posh speech. This is why Harry dislikes Malfoy instantly, despite barely having exchanged a few sentences with him – he picked up on the huge class difference and it made him uncomfortable. Malfoy also says, “I say!” at one point, which is extremely posh. In fact that exclamation is purposely contrasted with Ron’s working-class translation,“oy!”, at one point. He also says, “would you mind moving out of the way?”, which is also very high-class. Most people would say, “can you move out of the way?” A lot of the speech that shows characters to be upper-class or working/middle-class is to do with subtle registers of English that are extremely hard to explain. Crudely, you could say that the lower someone is in class, the more minimalistic and blunt their speech tends to be. “Would you mind” is both longer than necessary and overly formal (polite) (though, of course, Malfoy meant it sarcastically).

We don’t know where Malfoy lives until later in the series, but we do know he is wealthy and privileged enough to have staff, since he views Hagrid as a servant. This sounds so prejudiced of him, but really he is just as much an outsider to the world of working as Hermione is to the world of magic. When he said, “he’s a sort of servant isn’t he?” he was betraying inherited class prejudice, yes, but he was also just a child trying to make sense of his surroundings using the only frame of reference he had.

In my opinion, something Malfoy says in PS makes it absolutely clear that the pure-blood/half-blood/muggleborn thing is about the British class system: “I really don’t think they should let the other sort in do you? They haven’t been brought up to know our ways (...) they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname anyway?” This illustrates perfectly what I said in my essay about the upper-class being a case of which family you belong to. Malfoy believes that wizarding knowledge should be basically kept within the sacred 28, just as the British upper-class believes that access to their world should be basically kept amongst themselves. It’s why European royal families inter-married to the point of disease in the past. His comment “some wizarding families are better than others” means exactly the same thing. Read ‘some British families are better than others’.

Malfoy has the wealth associated with being upper-class and he rubs it in everyone’s face. He can’t empathise with less wealthy people until later in the series, when he realises some things are more important than money. Somehow, an upper-class family who isn’t living as an upper-class family should, like the Weasleys, is more unsavoury than a working-class family living in the same conditions, because the upper-class see their status as a divine birth right. For that reason, Malfoy is especially unpleasant to Ron. There is a large section of PS where Malfoy makes a snide remark about the Weasleys’ poverty every single page. He also calls them “riff-raff”, which is a real world insult. It means rubbish, the dregs of society, people whose only cause to live is to serve.

Then there’s Hogwarts itself and the staff who live there. Hogwarts is completely upper-class. For a start, consider all the stuff you need to buy just to go. I know there’s an access fund, but it’s implied you only get it if you have literally nothing, including parents. Imagine how much it is to buy all the books and equipment and uniform. You need to be wealthy to be able to buy all that and not worry about money. Secondly, the quality of stuff around the castle shows it’s upper-class, e.g. glittering gold plates and goblets and historical artefacts like suits of armour. It sounds like Buckingham Palace. Then there’s the fact that it’s a castle at all. Upper-class families reside normally in historic buildings. I mean could it get any posher than a literal castle? Then there’s the fact that you make a dramatic entrance over a darkened lake like you’re in a film noir. How pretentious is that?

Also, Harry is bowled over by how amazing the food is. As I’ve said before, most kids at school at that time were eating chips and turkey twizzlers every day. Wizards have special, private transport to take them to school, where they board for literally no reason other than class tradition because it would be just as easy to travel by floo powder every day. They are obsessed with sporting competitions. In normal muggle schools hardly anyone cares about sport. People like P.E. as a subject but they don’t all go and watch matches involving school teams and get emotionally involved. I have never once been aware of anyone going to a school sports fixture as a spectator. That alone might be hard for Americans to get their heads around.

The school houses is also a feature of posher schools. Some lower-class schools have them as well, but people don’t care about them in the same way. No-one feels like they are a part of their house, and they certainly don’t absorb their house as part of their identity later in life the way Hogwarts students do. Additionally, the ghosts we meet have upper-class titles: Sir and Baron. Moreover, there is the fact that the teachers call the students by their surnames, even sometimes with titles, e.g. “Mr Potter”. That is completely an upper-class thing. Traditionally, I think you used to get it at normal schools as well, but since well before HP was written, it has been a feature of solely top-end schools. It comes from the formality that marks the upper-class. There’s a moment in one of the books where McGonagall calls Harry ‘Harry’ while having a gentle, friendly conversation with him, and then immediately switches back to ‘Potter’ once she returns to strict, no-nonsense teacher mode, and Harry himself picks up on it. There’s also the use of people’s full first names, which also gives an air of formality, distance and authority. Dumbledore, for instance, refers to Ron as “Mr. Ronald Weasley”, which sounds ridiculous to the average ear. Hermione also habitually switches from ‘Ron’ to ‘Ronald’ when she is chastising him – this demonstrates that she knows how to create the sort of authority and formality required to construct a superior power relation. Then there’s the sheer fact of the pretentious Latin incantations. Many working-class kids would struggle to remember even the most basic of incantations. In fact, the kids coded as real world working-class often do struggle to do well at spells: Ron, Harry, Neville for instance. Hermione, who is real world middle-class, has had the sort of education that predisposes one to be able to remember foreign vocabulary. She probably even did Latin at her previous school whereas Harry certainly won’t have gone anywhere near it at his primary school.

Dumbledore is immediately marked as upper-class (which of course he is because he’s head of the wizards) by the fact that on the Hogwarts letters they list his numerous titles and positions at the top. Just in case you were in any doubt about how much power he has. And then there’s eccentric speech he gives that causes Harry to ask if he’s mad. Of course he’s mad, he’s the head toff. I talked in my class essay about the stereotype that upper-class people are eccentric.

The fact the teachers are called professor shows how upper-class it is too. No-one in state schools, or even private schools to my knowledge, does that. It’s hyper-formal and posh. British schoolchildren call their teachers ‘miss’ or ‘sir’ or their title and name, i.e. Mr Dumbledore. There’s also the fact that Dumbledore is the one who makes all the profound, philosophical statements in the books: he has had the education and mental energy to think about life. One of these statements is that having all the money and life you could ever want is not such a wonderful thing. OK, I get what he’s saying but, still, that’s easy to say when you have a lot. If he was poorer and hadn’t stayed healthy into old age, would he have thought that? Probably not. I already mentioned that Dumbledore says “Mr Ronald Weasley”, but in the same sentence he says, “Misters Fred and George Weasley”, “Miss Hermione Granger” and the word “lavatory”, all of which are very posh. I’ve never met a working-class person who says ‘lavatory’. Everyone knows what it means, but most people would say ‘toilet’, or maybe ‘loo’.

Let’s look at Snape next. In Harry’s first potions lesson Snape chastises the class for not writing down what he was saying. That’s because he knows first-hand how education can open doors and change who you are. We don’t know this yet in PS, but it completely incredible he has got this far in life. He has done so largely due to curiosity, gathering information, making notes of new things, and using it all to work things out and say the right things to the right people. He knows that knowledge and skills honed through practise are power.

He knows Harry has been living with middle-class relatives, that he is the descendant of a rich wizard and is famous. He also knows Petunia, although we don’t know it yet. He does not know that Harry didn’t know he was a wizard, or that Harry has been treated as a third-class citizen. He also doesn’t know what Harry knows about him. It is logical to assume that Petunia might have mentioned him, and if she had she would have done so disparagingly (she does do this actually, but later in the series). While he is giving his rousing, poetic potions speech at the start, Harry is talking when he shouldn’t be. Snape interprets this as arrogance. His whole “fame isn’t everything” moment, where he questions Harry about stuff he couldn’t possibly know is meant to be a lesson in humility. Snape is saying ‘I might be under you in class but I am the one with the power now’. He is also championing hard work - Snape wants the other kids to know that it doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done so far; as far as he is concerned it’s what you do with the opportunity to learn and how hard you work that matters. It’s unfortunate that he misjudged Harry and knocked his confidence, but it shouldn’t be seen as such a big deal. If I had been in that class I would have felt reassured. When people get worked up about Snape’s behaviour here, it’s because they don’t realise or understand that he and Harry did not start off in life equal. Nor, indeed did many of the kids in that class. Americans misjudge that scene because they are brought up believing that all men are born free and equal in right. Even if that idea doesn’t translate into reality in the US, the sentiment is there. People have it etched into their brains. Here, it is very different. The class system means that everyone knows that people are not born free or equal in right. To Snape, Harry represents a layer of society that wanted to keep him unequal; to stop him doing well for himself. It’s an irony that the death eaters, the purists of the upper-class world, allowed Snape access to their privilege in a way that the Marauders, who champion muggleborns, did not. I will talk about that in a later post.

Snape seems to get on with Filch, which suggests he feels comfortable around him in a way he doesn’t with everyone else. Filch is certainly encoded as working-class – he works hard doing manual jobs and nobody cares. It’s treated as laughable if students make a mess or damage something People make fun of his appearance. He’s a squib. I always feel ill at ease reading bits with Filch in them. I feel like he is mocked for his lack of privilege and treated like a slave. Snape seems to be more at ease with him than he is with others, so that, to me, suggests they have similar background. Snape’s grouchy attitude stems in part from knowing he is out of place in terms of class. He is defensive and stressed as a result.

The way Snape talks also carries class coding. Working-class people tend to be quite abrupt and direct in their speech, especially in the north, which some people take for a bad temper or bad manners. In fact I would say from experience that the further north you go, the more blunt and brutally honest the speech, and the more likely people are to mock you. Usually this mocking is down to showing a lack of formality in order to construct openness and familiarity, but it is frequently misunderstood. They call a spade a spade and don’t bother with the subtleties that make cushion their opinions and ideas. It is the reason Scottish comedians tend to be more caustic than English ones. To me, nearly all of Snape’s grouchy-sounding comments stem from this tendency. He is speaking to the kids the way people spoke to him when he was a kid. His manner stands out massively in the minds of most of the Hogwarts pupils because it is so out of place, not because he is rude and the other teachers aren’t, but because he has working-class roots and the others don’t. He has since moved up the ladder, so he affects speech that is more befitting to his position as a Hogwarts teacher, as well, for example he appears to have standard pronunciation. He also consciously uses more sophisticated vocabulary than is natural to him. We see this in his opening speech in Harry’s first potions lesson. He gives the poetic speech about what you can learn in potions, pauses, then slips back into his natural speech: “if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach”. The insult, the contraction ‘aren’t’, the quantifier ‘bunch’ are all markers of lower-class speech. He probably couldn’t help doing it – the sophisticated, well-spoken professor act is indeed an act. (In fact, the extremity of the ‘working-class playing upper-class’ act is the reason he is so good at occlumency and spying – he has had so much practise pretending to be something he’s not and blocking out undesirable traits that it comes naturally.) He also, unconsciously, was trying to construct an air of relaxed ease in the classroom: when people talk like that, it makes him feel at ease. I know Harry was also raised working-class, but it was a middle-class household, so his experience of speech isn’t exactly the same, and also, crucially, Harry is from Surrey – a lot further south than Snape is from. As I said, that abrupt, sarcastic, bluntness increases the further north you go.

The image of Snape spitting on the ground at the end of the quidditch match, to me, makes him appear uncouth and socially inappropriate, which plays (negatively) on his working-class background.

When Harry and Hermione go after the stone, Snape’s puzzle is not based in magical knowledge. It’s a logic puzzle accessible by everyone. This is a big deal, in my opinion. A muggle could get through that puzzle. That shows, firstly, that he doesn’t value inherent privilege and membership of the upper-class, but genuine intelligence, curiosity and enquiry, spanning all classes (and races – a house-elf could have done it). Secondly, that he is still thinking like a muggle. He is a great wizard, he used to be a death eater and he is a teacher at the poshest school in Britain; you would think he would have started to embody upper-class, but instead he is still soaked with muggle, or working-class attributes. He has moved up the social ladder, but it can’t be done cleanly, with clearly defined lines. That one act of setting a non-magical puzzle says everything. Hermione is thrilled with it because, probably for the first time all year, she doesn’t feel like an outsider. The puzzle is just as accessible to her as it is to anybody. That is great teaching, even if it’s questionable obstacle-setting!

We don’t find out much about Quirrell but we know he is upper or upper middle-class because he travelled around the world. Going on a gap year and travelling the world tends to be something only wealthy and culturally experienced people want to do and can afford to do. In Deathly Hallows, it is mentioned that Dumbledore and Doge were planning to do this and JKR called it ‘the grand tour’. This is a real historical, upper-class concept: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Tour.

A few words on Diagon Alley now. The goblins are interesting. It’s been said goblins are a jewish stereotype, which is definitely true (though not intentional by JKR I am sure) and they face racism. It’s also true, however, that in the real world we don’t like bankers, and that’s linked to class too. It feels like bankers are upper-middle class arseholes trying to get as close as possible to the top echelons of power by making the working-class ever poorer. I think that’s part of the reason Gringotts is so splendid and ornate on the surface, yet dark, dangerous, unpleasant and even mysterious on the inside – because it reflects real bankers, or at least the image we have of them: rich and polished to look at but nasty on the inside. Also regarding Diagon Alley, Harry takes a faint dislike he can’t put his finger on to Ollivander. It’s because Ollivander remembers the ancestry of his wands. It’s a reference to the upper-class using blood (which is the same thing as ancestry and surname) to define their social status but Harry is too young to understand what it is that bothers him. The moment Hagrid and Harry arrive back in the muggle world after shopping they are eating burgers on plastic seats. This image of cheap food and furniture marks their transition from upper-class (the wizarding way) to working-class (the muggle way).

We see another example of how wizarding blood is a metaphor for class in Neville’s experiences. Neville is a pure-blood and his family is on the sacred 28. He has magical privilege just like Ron. His parents famously served in the closest thing the wizarding world has to a military, which echoes the tradition of real upper-class men serving in the British armed forces. Yet, by contrast, he has little power. He isn’t encoded as working-class in the same way Ron is, but we know that his status is questionable because he isn’t very good at magic. His blood is pure, but is it healthy? His family were so appalled by the idea that he might not have ‘healthy’ wizarding blood that they abused him and put his life at risk to force the truth about his blood out. He isn’t a squib, but he isn’t good at wand magic. His skills lie in herbology, which lacks the power associated with wands and also alludes to working the land. He is descended from pure-bloods so he was unquestionably born into the upper-class. The question is, does he have the qualities the upper-class use to maintain power over the lower classes? For, whilst membership of the upper-class is defined by blood (in both the real and wizarding world), that status is simply ceremonial if you do not have the power relations that go with it. Since Neville does not have what it takes to have such power relations, he is an embarrassment and loses a considerable amount of his privilege. Squibs suffer a similar fate. To me, a squib is a member of the upper-class who dramatically don’t fit in, or are unable to exude some of the qualities critical for power relations.

(This is going to sound weird, but I have often felt that Neville is loosely based on Prince Harry. In case you don’t know, people have always speculated that Prince Charles might not really have been Harry’s father because he looks so different from him and so similar to another man Diana knew, James Hewitt. He doesn’t really behave like royals traditionally do and has always been kind of normal seeming. He goes drinking with mates, goes to parties and generally interacts with anyone. He doesn’t care as much about putting on a persona for the public, sometimes doing stupid things in front of the press and he also did badly at school. He grew up while the HP books were being written, and of course by the time JKR was writing CoS his mother had died. All that has always felt to me quite comparable with Neville not really fitting in where he was supposed to and not having his parents at home and not doing well at school, but then turning out to be one of the most decent of the lot of them.)

If, as I believe, the blood status of wizards is a metaphor for the class status – pure/upper, half/middle and muggle/working – then several interesting questions are raised. Firstly, to what extent are characters aware if their classes, both wizarding and real, and how does that effect their lives. Secondly, was the metaphor intentional? What was JKR trying to say? Or what does it say about her, and by extension about the average British person. Thirdly, why do so many characters have a real world class which contrasts, rather than parallels, their wizarding world class? And what of those who do have parallel classes? Finally, and most importantly, since class relations are power relations, what significance is there of Voldemort’s proclamation that, “there is no good and evil, only power”? These are questions that I will attempt to answer over later posts, one for each book, though it will be quite a while before I have time to write more.

#Harry Potter #snape #snapedom #snape love #british class system #death eaters #pure blood #hogwarts

[jewish-privilege]

During the course of psychotherapy, a man reports fragments of dreams: “I am hiding in the cellar from soldiers who are searching for me. Overwhelmed by anxiety, I know that if they find me they will kill me on the spot… Then, I am standing in line for selection; the smell of burning flesh is in the air and I can hear shots fired. Faceless and undernourished people with striped uniforms march away to the crematoriums. Then, I am in a pit full of dead, skeletal bodies. I struggle desperately to bury the cadavers in the mud, but limbs keep sticking up from the wet soil and keep floating up to the surface. I feel guilty for what has happened, though I do not know why. I wake up in a sweat and immediately remember that these were the kinds of nightmares I had ever since I was a child. During a lifelong journey of mourning, I have been travelling back to the dead; to the corpses and graveyards of the Second World War with a prevailing sense of numb grief for all those anonymously gone.” 

From the content of this dream, the man could have been a Holocaust survivor. But he was not. He was the child of a survivor. His mother had survived the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp. But he, himself, was born long after the war had ended in a country far removed from the horrors of the Holocaust. Why was he dreaming such dreams about half a century after the war? Why are children of Holocaust survivors still experiencing the effects of the Holocaust as if they themselves had actually been there? How do we explain that the so-called “second generation” seems to share the grief and terror of their traumatized parents? Was the trauma of the parents somehow transmitted to them?

...A review of the literature suggests that there are a multitude of different terms that describe trauma transmission. Regarding the term “transmission,” Albeck (1993) suggested that we talk about "intergenerational aspects of trauma" instead of trauma "transmission” and the concept was changed accordingly within the International Society of Traumatic Stress Studies in the early 1990's. Despite this, I feel “transmission” is a useful and adequate concept and I have therefore retained it here. In addition, concepts such as “secondary” and “vicarious” traumatization have been suggested in order to differentiate this phenomenon from the “primary” and “direct” traumatization of the first generation. But such transmission includes also the effect on spouses and caretakers. Emphasizing the generational interchange specifically from parent to child, the transmission process is delineated as either trans-generational (e.g. Felsen, 1998); inter-generational (e.g. Sigal & Weinfeld, 1987); multigenerational (e.g. Danieli, 1998); or cross-generational (e.g. Lowin, 1983). However, since the trauma was invariably passed on from one or both of the parents, “parental” transmission would perhaps be the most adequate term (Dasberg, 2000). 

...In order to limit such ambiguity, I will differentiate between the process of transmission (how the trauma was carried over from one generation to the next), and the content of transmission (what was in fact transmitted) (Levine, 1982). The first would contain the assumed cause of transmission, in terms of what parents did to their children, and the second would contain the effect, in terms of the psychological responses of the child. While both perspectives apparently involve direct and indirect (as well as specific and general) aspects, the basic differentiation of parental influence and infant/child response is essential for making sense of the various theories and research findings within this field. The underlying model for the parental transmission of Holocaust trauma may thus be characterised as a functional relationship, in which the behavior of children of survivors (B) is a function (f) of Holocaust survivor parents' childrearing behavior (P), leading to the formula: B = f (P).  

...In order to more fully describe this complex process, I will here describe some of the contents of that which was transmitted, present an overview of the prevalent theories of trauma transmission and discuss some of the “mitigating” factors that are assumed to decrease and increase the development of specific second-generation psychopathology.  

What was passed on to the child? What are the manifestations of trauma, if any, that can be observed in children of survivors? While the content of transmission has been also described in positive terms as a “legacy” and/or as a capacity for resiliency, it has most often been negatively associated with some kind of psychopathology. Most frequently, the transmission has been assumed to contain some kind of secondary posttraumatic stress disorder, suggesting that since many Holocaust survivors suffer from PTSD, their offspring will also suffer from such a syndrome (Baranowsky, et al, 1998). 

...At first glance, the concept of transmission is difficult to grasp. It is as if saying that someone’s headache is caused by the fact that his father was hit on his head by a stone some 50 years ago. Or, that a woman is afraid of becoming pregnant because her mother had lost a child during the war. Explanations like these, which connect past experiences of a parent with a present state of mind in a child, may be regarded as at least farfetched and at most ridiculous. 

Most people, however, would agree with popular folk wisdom that “an apple does not fall far from the tree,” and with the notion of “like father, like son.” In addition, bacteria may be transferred from one person to another in the spreading of disease and various physical forms of passing something over from one body to another, or from one place to another, are parts of our daily experiences. The transmission of sound waves in telecommunications is a commonly accepted phenomenon and may serve as a suitable analogy that also illustrates the process of trauma transmission. Thus, in the same way as heat, light, sound and electricity can be invisibly carried from a transmitter to a receiver; it is possible that unconscious experiences can also be transmitted from parents to their children through some complex process of extra-sensory communication. In fact, such quasi-naturalistic terminology is frequently applied when describing how the “vibrations” within a Holocaust family “atmosphere” may affect the offspring in a variety of indirect and subtle ways. 

Four major theoretical approaches to understanding trauma transmission have been suggested: (1) psychodynamic; (2) sociocultural; (3) family system; and (4) biological models of transmission.

1. Psychodynamic and relational models of transmission: (...) Transgenerational transmission is when an older person unconsciously externalizes his traumatized self onto a developing child’s personality. A child then becomes a reservoir for the unwanted, troublesome parts of an older generation. Because the elders have influence on a child, the child absorbs their wishes and expectations and is driven to act on them. It becomes the child’s task to mourn, to reverse the humiliation and feelings of helplessness pertaining to the trauma of his forebears (Volkan, 1997, p. 43). 

...2. Sociocultural and socialization models of transmission: (...) In comparison with psychoanalytic theories that focus on unconscious and indirect influences, social learning theories emphasize conscious and direct effects of parents on their children. In much of this literature, Holocaust survivors have been described as inadequate parents. Their multiple losses were assumed to create childrearing problems around both attachment and detachment. For example, overt messages conveyed by Holocaust survivor parents, such as “Be careful” and “Don’t trust anybody!” were assumed to have left their indelible marks. The exaggerated worries of such anxious parents may have conveyed a sense of an impeding danger that the child may have absorbed. (...) “A middle-aged child of two Holocaust survivors with a very low tolerance for stress described her parents in the following manner: “My father used to scream during the night and my mother screamed during the day. Both were highly disturbed and could not tolerate anything that might upset them. I had to be careful always as a child not to come home late, not to be ill, not to show any signs of distress, and to be as quiet as I possibly could be.” Growing up with such tormented parents must in itself have been a kind of cumulative trauma for the woman, but some of her own anxious behavior was clearly learned through modeling.” 

3. Family systems and communication models of transmission: Unconscious and conscious transmission of parental traumatization always takes place in a certain family environment, which is assumed to effect a major impact on the children. Though Holocaust survivor families certainly differ from one another in many ways (Danieli, 1981), the more pathological families are described as tight little islands in which children came into contact only with their own parents, with their siblings and with other survivors. In such highly closed systems parents are fully committed to their children and children are overly concerned with their parents' welfare, both trying to shield the other from painful experiences (Klein-Parker, 1988). Through mutual identifications, parents live vicariously through their children and children live vicariously in the horrific past of their parents. Considering such powerful family dynamics, it is not surprising that problems around individuation and separation (Klein, 1971; Barocas & Barocas, 1980; Freyberg, 1980) and attachment (Bar-On, Eland, Kleber et al (1998) were often observed. 

(...) 4. Biological or genetic models of transmission: Biological models of trauma transmission are based on the assumption that there may be a genetic and/or a biochemical predisposition to the etiology of a person’s illness. Genes transmit constitutional elements from parent to child and some mental illnesses seem to have a clear hereditary etiology. For example, studies indicate that children of schizophrenic parents are much more likely to develop the disorder than the general population. Holocaust traumatization may be similarly passed on “almost as if psychological DNA were planted in the personality of the younger generation through its relationships with the previous one” (Volkan, 1997, p. 44). Memories of fear can thus be carried across generations through physiological processes and get “picked up“ by another mind and elements of the collective experience of the species are thus reflected in the genome (Perry, 1999). (...) 

In an attempt to investigate such assumptions, Yehuda, et al (2000) found that low cortisol levels were significantly associated with both PTSD in parents and lifetime PTSD in offspring, whereas having a current psychiatric diagnosis other than PTSD was relatively, but non-significantly, associated with higher cortisol levels. Offspring with both parental PTSD and lifetime PTSD had the lowest cortisol levels of all study groups. They conclude: “Parental PTSD, a putative risk factor for PTSD, appears to be associated with low cortisol levels in offspring, even in the absence of lifetime PTSD in the offspring. The findings suggest that low cortisol levels in PTSD may constitute a vulnerability marker related to parental PTSD as well as a state-related characteristic associated with acute or chronic PTSD symptoms” (p. 1252). 

#intergenerational trauma #parental trauma #transgenerational trauama #concentration camp syndrome #long post

[gamerfcapuno-blog]

The Adventures in Fansubbing: Localization and the Song of La Béfana (FR Miraculous Ladybug S2)

At this point, I just have a feeling I need to write this (mainly since I think people might find this interesting). If people are ever curious about the process of making subtitles/captions and what goes on, I’ll share some of that right now.

Now, releasing subtitles to a show isn't super abnormal these days. But there are some challenges that do come with making them.

Most people these days aren't too fussed with getting a direct translation from a fan subber, but when trying to create a quality project that keeps with the spirit of the original work is much more difficult to execute well. If you want to know more, keep going. You’ve got a lot of reading under the cut.

Professional captioners have some standards to keep to which can drastically alter what you read. These can include:

Ensuring the lines only show up in a certain number of lines and within a certain percentage of the screen. (The standard is a max of two lines, with few exceptions being three.)

Making the captions easy to understand and read in a timely manner.

Format captions to flow easily and smoothly to a viewer.

Making the idiosyncrasies, jokes and cultural references of one country understandable to other cultures. Otherwise, using an appropriate cultural reference in their place. (AKA Localization)

It's a lot of work trying to stick to that list and can often result in many things being lost to translation. A lot does hit the cutting room floor and things are altered to get an idea across in a shorter form. It's the kind of stuff that people might criticize on forums or such, but it's sometimes a necessary evil that has to be done.

With that, I want to talk about the last tick on the list (localization) in relation to S02E04 La Béfana in Miraculous Ladybug. Of course we’re talking about captioning the French language version.

I’ll start with a disclaimer: I am not a translator. I am not even fluent in a second language. I don’t even claim to be a professional captioner. I only do this for my own personal fun and education. Most of what you’ll read now is merely anecdotal and based on experiences doing this as a hobby.

It’s a pain in the butt trying to write subtitles for a language you aren't at all fluent in. What's worse, is when you run in to something that only works within the context of the original language or culture. It happens too many times to count.

I'm only going to detail a small sampling of what happens.

In this case, we have two very time consuming issues in La Béfana: the song that Béfana sings while flying around, and subsequently Chat Noir and Ladybug's responses to the song. These two are exactly the kind of localization problems that slow down jobs when you're not working on a team of multiple people. Let that be known if people are thinking of picking this up.

I won’t detail people on Miraculous Ladybug, one can easily Google the show on their own. But to set the stage for us here, La Béfana is actually based on the myth of Befana from Italy. She's a very popular figure who gives gifts to children on a flying broom, kind of like Santa. She gives candy and presents to good children in their stockings and coal or dark candies to bad children. The way Béfana in Miraculous Ladybug is portrayed is in line with this myth. Naturally, the show also has her sing a traditional Italian song while she's flying around. I wasn't able to find the original song this was based on (which may have made this easier to understand). Allegedly, it's a song that's found in a Befana opera, according to a friend of mine but I could be wrong. Knowing this background information can be helpful in understanding how to handle what we’re tackling. (Google is your best friend!)

The song in the show looks sort of like this:

La Béfana arrive sur son valle volant aus enfent j'en tiens don de bonbons aus enfent benial chet du charbons

*NOTE: I'm aware this is most likely not correct at all

This is not obvious to someone that doesn’t understand French, but this song isn't entirely in French. It's some sort of mixture of French with some thick Italian undertone and word selection. It's non-standard. The best I could do was sound it out and look through dictionaries and grammar books to figure out what Le Béfana is singing. This problem is exacerbated by the fact I know neither French or Italian and have no basis on their grammatical structure or phonetic language.

This language mixing also makes it hell for a normal translator to pick through since while it sounds like one language it doesn't line up with it (in this case it's French). It caused a lot of confusion when I asked a French translator to assist me. I spent hours trying to figure this out but I can't be spending more trying to figure this out if I'm on a timetable.

Needless to say, how do we handle this scenario for captioning?

There's two ways this can go. One is to try to bring over the spliced languages. I've actually done it before when working on No Game No Life. Of which I have and example here:

The alternative is to just play it straight and not even bother with bringing the song's language mixing over. That would look like this:

The Befana is here On her flying bike All good children get candies All the naughty ones get coal

In this case, I threw out trying to chop in multiple languages in the English caption and not bring over the idea of Béfana singing in not-Italian. Why? Because it would slow processing it when it's read.

This is just a song that La Béfana sings that (specifically) American-English speakers won't understand the significance of. Additionally, it might not even be intentionally mushed together! Trying to write the mangled-ness might even be insulting. I'm pretty sure the people who wrote the French script didn't actually intend for it to be interpreted as really terrible joke-Itali-French. And unless you live in that area of the world, the meaning of it is lost regardless of what I do and I don’t want to disrespect it.

This is a case of a functional change. I can't salvage this even if I wanted to. It felt best to not try and overstate the mixed sentences as a thing. However, I did leave the not-real spliced not-French-not-Italian caption above the English caption in case someone cares for it. (This technically is my file I make for fun. I can do whatever I want with it.)

At that point, it was just choosing between a direct translation and a more artsy lyrical one. Long story short, in this case, we (my translator buddy and I) just picked a lyrical one because we liked it more. It's not 100% what Béfana sings, but we wanted it to read as chipper as the tune. In the end, we end up with something that looks like this:

Doing alright so far! Next!

Our second issue was Chat Noir and Ladybug singing in response to Béfana in the second half of the episode. It goes a little something like this.

CHAT NOIR (singing) Chat Noir vient lui aussi Descret comme mort la nuit

CHAT NOIR (speaking; questioning tone) ...What also rhymes with "-it" [I]?

LADYBUG (singing) Il défend Paris Avec sa Lady

In this case, Chat Noir is wondering what will rhyme with "aussi" and "nuit" which end on the same phonetic sound of "-I". Ladybug jumps in and supplies "Paris" and "Lady" (which also end on the same sound in French). Oh man. This is a gag that specifically works because of how French is pronounced.

This is also entirely a children's show joke. There's plenty of words in French that rhyme with "aussi" and "nuit". It's silly, and perfectly in line with the normal comedy line of this show. The problem was trying to get that idea and feeling across to read in English captions. If you translated this more directly, it would look something like this:

CHAT NOIR (singing) Chat Noir arrives as well Discretely like the night

CHAT NOIR (speaking; questioning tone) ...What rhymes with “night”?

LADYBUG (singing) He protects Paris with his Lady

It's serviceable. It's functional. The gag is completely lost though and it makes no sense to read.

Well. Let's try an alternative version! It might go something like this:

CHAT NOIR (singing) Chat Noir is here as well Discrete as the dead of night

CHAT NOIR (speaking; questioning tone) ...What rhymes with "-ell"?

LADYBUG (singing) Defending from the tower, Eiffel Helping his Lady fight

Hmm. This at least rhymes now in English, but it's clumsy to read. I really don't like it. We don’t want it to look like some strange archaic poetry you need a masters in English to interpret.

As a related aside, sometimes you do have to completely rewrite a cultural joke or a gag to work when bringing a work to a different culture. This happens all the time (especially in dubs) and it's definitely based on how much people would know about at the current period.

A super famous example of localizing a cultural item was turning rice balls in to donuts. One has to understand, that at the time this sort of change was made (early 90s), people didn't know much about Japanese foods. The standard was people knowing about ramen and sushi. Rice balls look similar to sushi (specifically maki roll type sushi). They might have even been interpreted as sushi. But rice balls are 100% not sushi. (joking) What a mistake one can make! (/joke) On top of that, having rice balls be retained in the context of the show had a chance of not being accessible, thus a change was made to keep the flow of the show intact.

Another one that people might not be familiar with is changing ramen in the Phoenix Wright games to hamburgers. (If you want to see an insane piece of localization work, look up articles on the localization of Phoenix Wright. It's fantastic. The amount of alterations in that game series is astonishing.)

In our case in Béfana, this is just a phonetic gag. This gag may only make sense right now in French because of the way French is spoken, but it’s still only a phonetic gag. I don't have to look up anything like French expressions or idioms or cultural lore or even specific items. I could make a completely serviceable alternative that shouldn't look as weird or insert an equivalent American-English gag.

Unlike in the case above where we couldn’t retain La Béfana’s not-Italian song, we can do something here. Our goal here now is to capture the spirit of the joke or the joking nature of the lines. If we have to toss out the direct meaning of the words to do it, we’ll have to do it.

Spend a couple of more hours with a pen and some scratch paper and end up at this:

CHAT NOIR (singing) Chat Noir is now here, you see Coming like the night on the scene

CHAT NOIR (speaking; questioning tone) ...What rhymes with "-ee"?

LADYBUG (singing) And he defends Paris Alongside his Lady

Surprise! We got super lucky here! I didn’t have to rewrite an entire section of episode dialogue!

It isn’t exact, but it’s not a full replacement of the original French lines. The same questioning of the rhyme still exists. It's working on the fact that it's pretty much all half-rhymes, but if you actually read it out loud (of course pronouncing Paris as "Par-ee" and not "Pah-ris") it sounds pretty good! The line where Chat Noir is referring to the night can also be connected to the environment transitioning to night time so that tracks as well. On top of that, there’s plenty of words that rhyme with “ee” in English. (Get it together Chat Noir!) As a bonus, this version is singable to the tune they sing to in the show. It works just fine for my purposes. We saved the joke! That’s all that matters!

Job done! Looks nice! Time to ship it out!

Now, If you survived this long reading this and you're thinking "Oh god. Is it over?" while I did just write an essay, you probably only read this in a fraction of the time it took to solve this issue. I’m heavily generalizing this process. In reality, these two sections alone took maybe seven hours to settle on. Surprised?

You don't want to imagine listening to these dialogue exchanges for that long trying to interpret what's being said and workshopping captions till you find a set you like. This is just a small snippet of what goes in to these sorts of things. It's work. It takes (a lot of) time. It's exhausting. But in the end people that do this do it out of enjoyment of the same piece of media you enjoy and to help other people enjoy it as well.

That's about all I have to say for now. I hope this was informative. I may see you all again some time in the future.

Thanks to aprilblossoms for being my translator buddy for this one! And thanks to all my friends for putting up with me while I was giving myself a lobotomy trying to hammer this out! (Special note to C-Note for helping me come up with the final captions for Chat Noir and Ladybug's song response.)

[nancydsmithus]

Smashing Magazine Is Thirteen!

Smashing Magazine Is Thirteen!

Rachel Andrew

2019-09-06T12:00:59+02:002019-09-06T10:45:19+00:00

This week, Smashing Magazine turned thirteen years old. The web has changed a lot since Vitaly posted his first article back in 2006. The team at Smashing has changed too, as have the things that we bring to our community — with conferences, books, and our membership added to the online magazine.

One thing that hasn’t changed is that we’re a small team — with most of us not working fulltime for Smashing. Many in the team, however, have been involved with the magazine since the early days. You may not know them by name, but you will have enjoyed and benefited from their work. I enjoyed finding out what everyone gets up to outside of Smashing, and also how they came to be involved — I hope that you will, too.

Vitaly Friedman is the person you probably think of when you think of Smashing Magazine, and rightfully so. He posted his first article to the site on September 2nd, 2006. When asked what he likes to do outside of Smashing, he says,

“I’m a big fan of hiking, running, ironing and fruits! For me, ironing shirts is really like meditation — and I also loooooove music festivals (which is something most people don’t know about me as I tend to be quite obscure about that).”

Vitaly has done pretty much everything at Smashing at one time or another — web developer, writer, editor, designer, creative lead and curator. These days, he helps to keep us all on track with his vision for all of the Smashing things, and always has some new ideas! Vitaly (originally from Belarus) travels as much as I do, our company standups usually involve us reporting our current and next location and timezone! As you’ll discover, however, while Smashing Magazine is a German company, the team lives — or has roots — all over the world.

Iris Lješnjanin is our senior editor on the magazine, and does an amazing job maintaining communication between our many authors, editors, and reviewers. She also does the majority of the subediting work on the magazine, trying to maintain the individual voices of our authors while ensuring the articles are easy to read for our worldwide audience. She has been part of Smashing since 2010, helping to develop the brand, mentoring in-house interns, and developing the process for working with authors and editors that keeps our daily publishing schedule rolling!

Iris grew up in Abu Dhabi, UAE, after the Bosnian War broke out, and moved to Germany to pursue her degree in linguistics. As I was gathering information for this article, she explained:

“I grew up multilingual, so it’s difficult for me not to love languages. Everything from the differences in tones, melodies, rhythms and cultural undertones of various languages is what will never cease to amaze me. Since I currently live in Freiburg, German is obviously the predominant language in my daily life alongside my mother tongue (Bosnian), but I try my best to learn new ones by listening to music, reading books and newspapers, watching TV series, and so on. One thing I find funny and interesting about languages is that, at the end of the day, they’re out of our control. Just like you can’t control who you meet in life, you can’t control which languages you learn. You meet them, get to know them, and fall in love with them.”

Unless you write for Smashing, you may never encounter Iris, however, her work is a key part of everything we do — a true behind-the-scenes superstar!

Another person who does a lot of work behind-the-scenes is Cosima Mielke, who joined Smashing in 2012 for a six-month long internship and is still working with us. Cosima is our e-book producer and editor, but gets involved in far more than that. She is behind the posts in the newsletter, and the ever-popular monthly wallpapers post, and many other editorial tasks that crop up.

Cosima loves being outside in nature, riding her bike, and creating things. Her background is not web development, and she told me,

“At Smashing, I’ve gained an entirely new look at the web which I only knew from a user’s perspective before I started working here. What fascinates me most is the strong community sense in the web community, that people are so open to sharing their knowledge and the tools they build to make life easier for everyone else — without asking for anything in return.”

As we cover such a wide range of topics here at Smashing, no one person can be an expert at all of them. Therefore, Iris and I are assisted by our subject-matter editors, some of who have been with us for a very long time.

One such editor is Alma Hoffmann. Originally from Puerto Rico, she moved to the USA to study for her MFA in Graphic Design and now teaches at the University of Alabama. Like so many of our Smashing crew, Alma is bilingual, though I believe she is the only one of the team who can claim to have been a ballroom dancer!

Alma first became involved with Smashing Magazine when she wrote an article in 2010. We perhaps didn’t have the editorial process then that we do now as she got a surprise when her first draft showed up live! She remembers,

“I emailed Vitaly thanking him and since then we have been in touch. He tested the waters by sending me articles to review and in 2013, he and Iris asked me to be the design editor. I wear that title like a badge of honor. Later on, in 2017, I was invited to be a speaker at the conference in Freiburg. I had a blast and met so many interesting people!”

Another of our editors is Michel Bozgounov. Like Alma, he originally became involved with SmashingMag by writing an article. After writing a second article in 2010, Vitaly asked him if he would like to edit a section of the magazine dedicated to Adobe Fireworks. Michel wrote an article when Adobe ultimately ended work on the product, however ,he now edits articles about the newer tools that have filled the gap — such as Sketch and Figma.

In his spare time, Michel loves to draw:

“It all started a few years ago, with a notebook, a fineliner, and a few watercolor pencils that I stole from my wife. Turned out I couldn’t stop drawing and for the last three years or so I imagine and then draw on paper small bits of a strange, but kind of fascinating world that I see in my mind — the world of Monsters & Carrots. For now, this world exists nowhere else but in my notebooks, and I showed only some small parts of it on Twitter.

Michel said that through working for Smashing,

“I learned how to be a better editor, and how to be more careful with words. I consider my experience at Smashing Magazine to be invaluable. I got in touch with so many people from all over the world and developed good online and offline friendships with many of the authors, experts, and editors that I worked with. Definitely, I can say that my job at Smashing Magazine opened many new doors and changed my life in a good way.”

When it comes to UX-related content, Chui Chui is one of our wonderful editors who works with authors to cover the most up-to-date topics on the magazine. Drew McLellan has recently taken on editing the coding section of the magazine, which includes everything from PHP to HTML, to JavaScript and more! If you write for Smashing Magazine it is likely that your main editorial contact will be with one of these editors, who will work with you to make sure your article is the best it can be.

Yana Kirilenko helps with preparations of articles to be published and talks to all our Smashing TV speakers to arrange the formalities, so they can connect with our wonderful community.

Next, we have Inge Emmler who keeps us all on track with our expense receipts, and requests to spend money! In addition, she helps out our community when they get in touch. If your book order didn’t show up, then Inge is probably the person who will help you. She loves to be able to make our customers happy and remembers an anecdote from her time at Smashing where she sent a free e-book to one person, brightening their day despite the fact they had just lost their job.

When not helping our the Smashing community and chasing us for our expenses, Inge loves to do things with her hands, be that refurbishing her house, gardening, cooking, and more recently taking photographs of flowers.

Jan Constantin has been part of the team since 2012, between then and now has fulfilled a number of roles — office manager, event manager, junior editor, and fullfillment manager! The nature of a small team is that we all sometimes end up doing something quite different than we originally imagined. Jan enjoys rock climbing, tabletop games and Sci-fi/Fantasy. He confesses that despite working for Smashing all these years he still doesn’t know more than basic HTML.

Ricardo Gimenes is the creator of the Smashing mascot, and therefore is the person we all go to with requests for illustrations of cats involved in a variety of non-catlike activities. Ricardo told he is:

“A half-Brazilian half-Spanish designer who loves graphic and motion. I’ve been a kind of "gypsy" for the past 20 years since I’ve lived in 6 different countries working as a designer (Brazil, Italy, Germany, England, Japan, and now Sweden). I love board games — I have more than 80 games (and counting) in my collection. Every week, we have a board game/beer night with friends here at my home. I’m a big fan of football (and weekend player). I love to play guitar, blues, and rock and roll.”

Ricardo has been with Smashing since 2009, however, he didn’t meet Vitaly or the rest of the team in person for five years as he was based in Brazil. You can see his work all over the magazine and also at our conferences, as he designs each of the conferences to match the location and theme of the event.

Among many other things, Ricardo illustrated these posters for our Toronto Conference. (Photo credit Marc Thiele)

I was lucky enough to speak at the very first SmashingConf in Freiburg in 2012. Marc Thiele brought his expertise and knowledge of conference organization to that event. It was a great success and the SmashingConf series has gone from strength to strength, with events happening in Europe, America, and Canada. Marc is still involved with Smashing, offering advice and experience as a friend of the team and also serves on the Smashing Board, helping to shape the direction of the company. He also takes photos at many of our conferences — such as the one above. Marc told me that,

“Working on the Events team, it’s exciting to bring Smashing Conference to all those different places and many people. Creating the Smashing Conference in old town halls, in beautiful theatre and music venues, this is exciting and wonderful to see the outcome and the effect it has on many people attending the event.”

The conference team has grown since those early days. Amanda Annandale joined the team three years ago, and now produces our New York event and has also produced events in London and Toronto. Originally from a theater background, Amanda was a professional stage manager in the USA for ten years.

Producing SmashingConf NY has created a strange turn of events in Amanda’s life,

“For 10 years I was a professional stage manager in New York City, working on musicals, new performance pieces, dance, you name it. One place I worked in was the New World Stages. It was working an event at this venue that I met my husband! Now — nearly 8 years later, I’m back working at the same venue, but this time on the other side when we hold our SmashingConf NY event every year!”

Amanda has the help of Charis Rooda, also an experienced conference organizer outside of Smashing, who runs WebConf.asia and was involved running conferences in The Netherlands before moving to Hong Kong. Charis makes sure that our speakers know where they are supposed to be and when, and also takes care of much of the social media and website content around the conferences. When not working, Charis loves doing art puzzles, and tells me that,

“With 1000 pieces you think you’re never going to finish it, but when you start and keep on going, you will make it. Pretty much like running a conference!”

When asked what surprising thing she had learned while working at Smashing Charis told me,

“I learned how to use em dashes — the punctuation mark which can be used instead of a comma, not to be mistaken for the en dash or hyphen — and my life will never be the same.”

Mariona Cíller was part of the conference team but this year her role is transitioning to more broadly lead the Partnerships and Data side of the business. She has been part of the team since 2015 at SmashingConf Barcelona.

Mariona is a former web designer and developer, and describes herself as, “in love with science and technology, the open web, open-source hardware, and software”. She lives in a laboratory at her grandfather’s 1920’s embroideries factory which she remodeled over the past 5 years. Today, it is a digital fabrication laboratory (FabLab) connected to 1700+ labs from all over the world via the Fab Lab Network and the Center for Bits & Atoms at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), where she graduated from the Fab Academy in 2015.

Mariona is currently studying for a Ph.D. in computer science and human-computer interaction at the Open University of Catalonia (UOC). Her research focuses on digital social inclusion programs for the neighborhood youth and community in Barcelona. She manages to find time to be a Mozillian and volunteer her time as a wrangler for MozFest2019!

I’ve learned a lot about many of the Smashing team while researching this piece, however, someone very familiar to me is Bethany Andrew — as she’s my daughter! Bethany has been doing some work for Smashing for a little over a year, first brought in to do some video editing work on the conference video. She still edits many of our videos and has also run a Smashing TV session. A trained dancer and singer, Bethany is part of a gospel choir in London, a true crime nerd, and a lover of Indian food. She said about her time at Smashing,

“It’s so lovely to now be working with everyone at Smashing. So many people have known me since I was a kid through my mum, or she’s always spoken about them. It’s nice now I’m all grown up (or trying to be) that I get to work with this lovely lot and develop my own friendships with them.”

The newest member of our team is Esther Fernández, who has joined Mariona to work on Partnerships and Data, and will be meeting the team for the first time in Freiburg at SmashingConf. I asked Esther to tell me something about her life outside of Smashing, and she said,

“I’m a very curious person. I love the sensation of having learned something new by the end of the day. I get part of that knowledge through books — I’m an eager reader — but also through films and any kind of artistic expression. I have a self-taught knowledge in psychology and I really enjoy hiking, riding my bike, and having conversations with other inquisitive people.”

Then, there is me. Editor in Chief since October 2017, however, I felt part of Smashing long before that. My first Smashing article was published in June 2010 and I was part of the review panel for several years. In addition, I have had chapters in a number of Smashing books, and have spoken and run workshops at SmashingConf since the beginning. Smashing has been part of my own journey as a web developer, speaker, writer, and editor. I love to work with people who are committed to doing the best they can do, dedicated to the web platform and the community who work on it, which is why I’m very proud to be part of this team.

I hope that you, now feel you know us a little better. I certainly found out a lot about my colleagues while writing this. I love how much everyone feels a part of Smashing, whether they work a few hours a month or full time. And, the reason we do this at all? That should be left to Vitaly, who describes best how all of us feel about working on the magazine, conferences and all the other things we do.

“One incredible thing that keeps happening to me all the time is that people come to me and tell stories of how Smashing changed their lives many years ago. Maybe it’s just one article that really nailed it and helped a developer meet the deadline, and sometimes it’s those certain encounters at a conference that simply change your life. I vividly remember stories of people whom I’ve met at conferences when they were students, and who now have companies with dozens of employees. These stories change everything — we don’t hear them most of the time, sitting everywhere in the world and just writing, publishing and curating events, but there is always impact of our work at people around us. And that’s something we shouldn’t take lightly.”

(ra, vf, il)

[veronicaprototypesdigitaly]

Google Analytics

How the store is organised:

The landing page of the Official Google Merchandise Store is a simple responsive page with just a few elements:

A header with logo and a horizontal bar with 8 options/drop-down menus to select from.

A sandwich menu on top left giving options: Login, Sign Up, Help.

A search bar on top right.

A shopping cart signifier on top right.

Main sections of the page are listing the available products to purchase.

The first thing that caught my attention on the store itself, was the following inconsistency in information architecture: By choosing the “Notebooks” add/link from one of the main sections, I landed on a list of all the office supplies and had to browse to find the notebooks, while choosing the “View All Office Supplies”, the user is taken to the details of one specific notebook, there is only a backpack suggested under “You May Also Like”.

In this case, it seems almost like the links were serving opposite purposes and thus is confusing, because the latter might suggest that the store only has this one notebook as an office supply.

The whole visual aspect of the page seems a little outdated comparing to new trends on Google services. There is basically no custom logo, the store doesn’t seem to be inviting or interesting, the whole header looks a little bit like beta version and not a final design:

Next, I moved on to analyse how the data is presented in the Google Analytics demo account for this store and see whether data will back up my critique on the UI.

An average user session on the store is around 3 min during which users typically visit 4.5 pages on the site. 1 out of 4 people are returning visitors. The bounce rate though is quite high – almost half of the users immediately leave the store after opening it which could be a red flag to the UI designers. Also, if we look at the operating systems, a little less than a third of the users visit the store from a mobile device, which might indicate that the mobile version of the store is not as user friendly as the desktop version.

The demographics section show that most of the users come from English speaking countries: US, India and UK, which it not surprising, since the store is only available in English and it might be a major contributing factor to the loss of traffic and interest from users in other countries. 46% of the users are aged between 25-34, both 18-24 and 35-44 are second largest groups each taking one fifth of the traffic. What concerns gender, almost 70% of the store visitors are male and it also seems that male items are highlighted more on the landing page.

Traffic analytics suggest that half of all the users on the store come from unpaid organic search, which is surprising, because affiliates and paid search take up only small percentages of traffic. The rest come from social media and reference links. These numbers suggest that the Official Merchandise Store is unique and might not need sponsored content on the internet to attract users, because they might be the only ones that sell Google merchandise, at least that is my assumption.

Also, from the numbers it is evident that people who got to the landing page first are roaming around the webstore a bit, mostly they explore what is available without initial intention to purchase something. On the contrary, users that end up on the store through a direct URL link are less likely to bounce off, which could suggest that they have found exactly what they are looking for. 

Product performance:

From the product performance list it is very apparent that apparel and bags are the most popular products. Those two are the first ones to be listed on the landing page. Checkout performance:

6.42% of sessions end up in transactions, meaning users actually buying the merchandise from the store, but this, according to webstore trends is considered to be a quite good conversion rate. In addition to that, this number must be affected by the fact that some people come to the store only to test the demo version of the Google Analytics account, therefore these numbers do not reflect the reality of the success of the store.

What concerns the mobile app for the Google Merchandise store, it seems much more modern and structured more nicely, but I still found some missing information or more like information architecture mistakes. For example, under the category “Stationary” only “Notebooks” are categorised, even though on the browser webstore other stationary items can be found. The mobile application doesn’t allow to find other stationaries than notebooks, it’s only possible by doing search, meaning the customer already has to know about the existence of these items.

Suggestions for re-design:

Introduce more consistency to information architecture, as in the example mentioned above with office supply products.

Add more languages to the store, so a broader audience in included.

Highlight not only male, but also female items on the landing page, a suggestion could be using models of both genders that wear the clothing pieces.

More traffic to the Google Merchandise Store could come if the store offered affiliates program, so links would be places on topic related pages and articles.

The high bounce rate might simply mean that the UI is not inviting, therefore I would suggest changing the colour scheme and layout of the landing page. Comparing the page to other Google services, it seems to be too basic and not up-to-date with current Google visuals.

It is a red flag that most users come to the store through desktop. Keeping in mind that people shop on their phones, Google might consider improving the mobile version of the store, as mentioned above there are missing items and inconsistent information architecture.

Maybe users would wander around the store less if the “Shop by brand” option would be highlighted in a different way, that is, maybe as distinctive buttons for “Google”, “YouTube”, “Android”.

[toraonice]

Yuri on Ice BD booklet translation (with Jun Shishido & Yuusuke Tannawa interview) - Volume 4

The full translation of the booklet of vol.4 is finally done... Actually, one of the reasons it took me so long is that I spent most of the time I was home from Thursday to Sunday watching Fuji TV’s live coverage of the World Championships, lol. And I’m glad I did because it was really exciting. It does make a difference to watch it live without knowing the results... I will work on the audio commentary and choreography part in the next few days, and hopefully on other stuff too.

The booklet has 3 parts: 1) Character introduction for Phichit, Chris and Guang-Hong. 2) “Topics”, in other words random curiosities.  3) Interview with chief director Jun Shishido and screen designer Yuusuke Tannawa. Most of you will probably have no idea who they are (and their titles are by no means a good explanation of what their actual role was), but I really recommend reading this interview because it gives more insight on the creation process of YOI and maybe it helps understand how hard it is to animate figure skating. The parts in round brackets are exactly like they are in the original text, it’s not something I added.

***If you wish to share this translation please do it by reblogging or posting a link to it*** 
***Re-translating into other languages is ok but please mention that this post is the source***

He’s going to leave a mark in Thai’s skating history with his blades!

Phichit Chulanont voiced by Kenshou Ono

Profile Date of birth: April 30th, 20 years old Height: 165 cm Blood type: B Thai

Introduction A new hope for Thailand, that didn’t have any skaters who got remarkable results. His popularity is quickly growing also thanks to his spontaneous and pleasant skating style that mirrors his friendly personality. This season he is skating both his short program and free to songs from the movie “The King and the Skater”, which is something he had always dreamed of doing. He is the first Thai skater to have succeeded in a quadruple jump and he also obtained his first Grand Prix victory. He is continuing to rewrite Thai’s figure skating history. He used to train under Celestino in Detroit, but from this season he has moved his base back to Thailand. He loves hamsters and has a lot of them. Posts about them can be seen on his SNS. The lethal weapon made of sex appeal that shines on the ice.

Christophe Giacometti voiced by Hiroki Yasumoto

Profile Date of birth: February 14th, 25 years old Height: 183 cm Blood type: undisclosed Swiss

Introduction 10 years since he moved to the senior class, he is one of the world’s best skaters fighting for the top. Beside his quadruple Lutz and his characteristic sexy moves, he is also praised for his unique and precise spins. As a veteran, he never breaks down too much, but he is a slow starter and tends to not perform at his best in the Grand Prix series, which is held in the first half of the season. Last year he came in 2nd in both the Grand Prix Final and the World Championships. With his long-time rival Nikiforov missing this season, he is one of the candidates to snatch the king’s throne. He is a popular skater who captures the hearts of women all over the world with his passionate and alluring performances that ooze the sex appeal of a grown-up man. He has a cat. To become, one day, China’s hero.

Guang-Hong Ji voiced by Yuutarou Honjou

Profile Date of birth: January 7th, 17 years old Height: 160 cm Blood type: O Chinese

Introduction A growing 17-years-old who moved to the senior class this season. In the Grand Prix’s America tournament he placed 3rd, achieving the amazing feat of standing on the podium on his debut performance. The success rate of his quadruple jumps, which he started training for this season, is also high, and as China’s new ace he is expected to grow further in the second half of the season. He has a shy personality, but at the same time he also uploads many selfies on the SNS. It seems that he also bought a lot of clothes during his training camp in Canada. Together with his friend Chulanont from Thailand and Japan’s Minami, he is called by fans “one of Asia’s 3 cutest skaters”. YURI!!!’s TOPIC

TOPIC 1: Grand Prix Series It consists in a total of 7 tournaments: 6 tournaments held in different countries every year from the end of October to the end of November, and the final that sees the 6 skaters who got the highest scores in the other tournaments as its participants. The 6 tournaments are always held in the same countries (the order may vary), but the location of the final changes every year, and this season it’s Barcelona in Spain. The participants are chosen based on their results in tournaments regulated by ISU (International Skating Union), their world ranking, recommendations by the host country etc.; however, each skater can only participate in a maximum of 2 tournaments. In addition, only up to 3 skaters from the same country can participate in the same category of the same tournament. The period when the skaters’ allocation is announced is somewhat of a festival among skating fans.

*It’s night in Japan when the skaters’ allocation is announced *The first 6 tournaments are held in 6 countries over the span of 6 weeks *In every tournament skaters receive points depending on their placement (15 points for the 1st place, 13 points for the 2nd place and so on), and the final ranking decides who will participate in the final

TOPIC 2: Quadruple Jump (*at the moment of the Russia tournament) One of the techniques that decide the game in male figure skating is quadruple jumps. Since the number and type of jumps greatly influences the score, recently it’s common for skaters to include multiple quadruple jumps in their programs. However, according to the rules the same jump can only be repeated a limited number of times, therefore skaters try new types of jumps and train hard to be able to have more quadruple jumps to put in their programs. Currently, 5 types of jumps except for the Axel have been successfully landed in official competitions. The one with the highest score is the Lutz, which top skaters such as Victor, Giacometti and JJ are using in their programs. The quadruple toeloop, which has the lowest score, is successfully used by young skaters such as Kenjirou Minami, Guang-Hong and Phichit too. Yuuri can jump the toeloop and Salchow and is currently training to master Victor’s trademark flip. After the Lutz, the flip is the jump with the highest score.

*Yurio in his junior years getting scolded for jumping a quadruple that was not planned *Seung-gil is the first who successfully landed a quadruple loop *Emil is a jumper that has 4 quadruples in his free *JJ jumps an amazing quadruple Lutz in the second half of his program *Victor uses as his weapons 4 types of quadruples, except for the Axel and loop (in the EX he landed a loop too)

TOPIC 3: Support Item (cheering goods) It often happens to spot flags and banners used as cheering goods in figure skating venues. After a performance flower bouquets and plushes are also thrown into the rink. Banners do not only feature the skater’s name and flag; sometimes they have a message or a portrait of the skater with which people try to show their support, and in some cases they are even made using photographs. Yuuri is often thrown plushes of food. The bouquets and plushes are picked up by children who are learning skating, usually called “flower girls” and “flower boys”.

*JJ’s cheering group, called JJ girls. *Yurio’s hardcore fans are called Yuri angels. *Flags are basic items. Some fans bring different types. *Present snacks from fans for Yuuri who is on a diet? *After popular athletes skate the flower girls and boys have a hard time picking up everything *Sometimes skaters will actually put on the items that are thrown into the rink

TOPIC 4: Kiss & Cry The kiss & cry is where skaters wait for their score after a performance. The name comes from the fact that it’s a place where athletes can experience both happy and sad feelings. Normally the skater and their coach will sit there, but in some cases there might be people from a country’s federation or the choreographer too. In many venues there will be a microphone, therefore skaters can also send messages to their family and fans. If you listen to the broadcast closely you might be able to hear the athlete and coach reviewing the performance or other conversations.

*Sometimes the coach might strike a pose too *It’s also a place where athletes vow to make up for a defeat *”Please support me!” addressed to the viewers *The JJ style gesture in the kiss & cry is a recurrence *Michele’s sister Sara can be seen in the kiss & cry too Chief director / Screen designer Jun Shishido & Yuusuke Tannawa interview

I want to make the gag scenes dynamic. (Shishido) The opening of episode 11 was possible thanks to the viewers’ response. (Tannawa)

Shishido: I’m the chief director, but in fact I did a lot of things. Director Yamamoto was too busy, so she mainly did sound and editing, and then since it’s an original story she focused on the story composition… Tannawa: Shishido-san was like the site supervisor. We would ask things related to the story itself to director Yamamoto, but the one who actually took action and gave directions was Shishido-san. Though in the credits I appear as “screen designer”, the anime’s screen design was created by the director of photography, and my job in this series mainly consisted in creating the footage for PVs, OP etc. and checking the final product before delivery. I started working on the PV at the beginning of 2016. I asked director Yamamoto what kind of layout she had in mind, and decided how to set the visuals of the series. Regarding the contents of the episodes I also discussed with Shishido-san about various topics – for example, “this processing can be done with camerawork, this expression can be recreated with CG” – and shared this information with the involved work groups.

-Trial and error to create the huge amount of skating scenes.-

T: In figure skating athletes perform while continuously moving around, therefore it was extremely difficult to understand where an athlete was and in what direction he was skating in each frame. In the 1st episode we created a CG model of the skater based on the real choreography footage and had it skate in a rink created with 3DCG, then we followed it with tridimensional camerawork and used that footage as a base for the animation. It was a very elaborate process. However, we realized that it was impossible to continue using this method with the production schedule of a TV series, therefore we switched to a different method where we would create camerawork on a general background map. Also, after episode 5, for certain characters we preceded the creation of the key animation with 3DCG. The final animation is all done by hand, but by having a base to use as a reference it was possible to calculate the available time frame and create the animations accordingly, thus shortening the working time. S: Even if you suddently ask the 3D staff to create figure skating animation, of course they have almost no knowledge of the jumps and techniques. They create the animation based on the reference footage, but they cannot express complex details such as how athletes balance their feet the moment they jump, so for that I and (figure skating animators) Abiko-san and Tatenaka-san adjusted the animation. Among the people working on the series, the only ones who had technical knowledge about figure skating were the 3 of us and director Yamamoto. And it’s not something that you can just explain verbally, so we took on all those jobs ourselves. We checked… everything, probably. Actually, until episode 4 the skating scenes were all created by Abiko-san and Tatenaka-san, so I didn’t need to check them, but from episode 5 the amount of skating scenes became so huge that we asked Tannawa-san and the others whether we could get help from the CG team… I completely trusted Tannawa-san, because I knew that if we explained what to do he would understand what was needed. T: I basically asked what they couldn’t do, and we did all we could to make up for that and reduce their workload. We would never have finished the series otherwise. That’s why for this anime no one ever said “isn’t that your job?”. For every episode, everyone just fought toward completion. S: Everyone took responsibility for their job and worked with extreme care, like no one was going to double-check what they did afterwards. We thought, “if we don’t do our best, this series will not make it to the broadcast, therefore we must all be responsible and work hard”…

-A scene you especially paid attention to.-

S: All the storyboards for the skating scenes were drawn by the director, but I drew them for quite a lot of daily life scenes. I especially like the scene where Yurio gives a pirozhki to Yuuri (in episode 9). I was particularly careful to make Yurio look cute. I wanted to show that, even though normally he is rude (to Yuuri), he actually rather trusts him and they do get along. I also like gag scenes, so I had fun with scenes such as the hug competition at the end of episode 9. Gag scenes do not need to be drawn as neatly as serious scenes, therefore I decided to animate them in a very comical and dynamic way. T: I paid a lot of attention to the opening. The way we changed it in episode 11 to reflect the current story development is something I myself suggested to the director. Actually, only the opening of episode 1 was still incomplete when it was broadcasted. From episode 2 onwards it was always the same footage, but the viewers wrote a lot of comments about it (and were wondering whether it was changing every time). Since everyone was watching it every time without skipping it, we decided to really change it in the end. S: My favorite character is Georgi Popovich! He’s a man who can talk about love seriously. He actually makes a few appearances since the 1st episode. When we were working on episode 1 we only had Kubo-sensei’s character plans and the storyboard saying “a character named Popovich is standing here”. We made him stand out a little because we understood that he would show up in the story later on. And what a character he was, when he was introduced in episode 6! T: He was so striking that I was actually shocked! I like Popovich too. Also, among the programs, I like Yuuri’s FS “Yuri on ICE”. It’s the first song I listened to working for this series, and at that time I used it for the PV without knowing that it was going to be Yuuri’s FS. In the PV Yuuri is skating in Hasetsu with his slender appearance from episode 3 onwards, and (the character designer) Hiramatsu-san commented “it’s a wonderful video, but now we have to make him fat”. I remember thinking “what is he saying??” (LOL).

-The power of the support that reached the studio.-

S: When we were creating the anime we were so busy with the work at hand that we didn’t really realize how much of a response the series was having. However, we received lots of presents, food, goods and letters of support from fans. T: Even items based on the contents of the series, like (retort-packed) borscht. That made us feel that fans were really supporting us because they liked the series, and it boosted our morale. Knowing that there were so many people watching and cheering on us motivated us to our best even it meant working overnight without sleeping. S: The charm of this series is the love of the original creators, director Yamamoto and Kubo-sensei, that you can feel from it. It’s just so strong. T: It also feels like you are touring various countries to follow Yuuri and the others and watch their matches. You can watch it with the eyes of a spectator and think “I didn’t know a lot about this athlete, but now I see how he skates”. I think that another element that allows viewers to really get into the world of the series is how not only the matches but also the skaters’ practice scenes and the back yard are drawn with lots of details. Everything is detailed, even the different shape of each skater’s blades. The director herself is full of very sincere love for figure skating, and that was transmitted to both the staff and the viewers. S: The animation studio had a very nice atmosphere. It’s the first time that I’m working with Tannawa-san, but when I saw his work I realized right away that he was someone I could trust. Trust and unity are something you find in the staff of many series, but for this one it was especially strong.

On a side note, Kubo & Yamamoto went to see the Worlds in Helsinki and are now in St.Petersburg. I am confident it’s tourism but with a spoonful of location hunting... (What a timing, though. I hope none of you or your acquaintances were personally affected by what happened the other day in the subway)

#YOI #Yuri on ice #interview #translation #BD #Booklet #comment #Jun Shishido #Yuusuke Tannawa #phichit chulanont #christophe giacometti #guang-hong ji

[prettymysticfalls]

SKAM: When Ordinary Becomes Extraordinary

SKAM, the hit Norwegian web TV series, didn’t only become a massive success in Norway, but it also became insanely popular worldwide. How did I discover the show though? Well, almost half of my dashboard was filled with SKAM gifs. At first, I didn’t feel like checking it out because I thought, it was being overrated. “Why would I, a young adult in mid 20s, bother with a teen drama?”, I said to myself. A few days/weeks later, almost my entire dasboard was filled with SKAM gifs. However, the more I saw it on my dash, the more I felt intrigued. Seeings gifs of wide variety of characters [interacting with and getting along all together] such as feminist, Muslim and LGBT characters made me rethink of my decision and made me feel myself drawn to the show. I couldn’t help my curiosity any longer. Hence, I ended up giving it a shot. I watched the first episode and then the second episode. I wasn’t able to help myself but keep watching the show ‘till late in night. Although the series’ language is Norwegian, I still enjoyed watching the series with English subtitles. The characters speaking Norwegian sounded cute and appealing to me, -since I’m someone who is interested in languages, especially Germanic languages, such as English, German, Dutch and I’m also curious about Swedish, Norwegian and Danish because they sound similar to those Germanic languages-. [Do I have to mention that I started learning Norwegian after Skam? Meanwhile, I’m also learning Swedish and Danish besides Norwegian after realizing how easily Scandinavian people could understand the show’s language. I also found out Skam means shame in all those 3 languages. Anyway, let’s go back to the topic.] Somehow, the show managed to get me hooked. As a result, I binge-watched it. What was it that got me addicted to the show? It was how real the characters felt. The characters are like someone from daily life. They are like us. Their stories aren’t so different from ours. They are real people. 

The thing, I love about Skam, is how ordinary the characters are and how compelling they are even though they are not extraordinary. The show also feels relatable because it’s like anything from daily life. I mean, the characters use social media just like us, they dress up and go to school and parties like us without being oversexualized. For instance, the actors don’t wear tons of make-up. They don’t bother covering zits on the actors’ face. Their foundations don’t look cakey. Their make-up doesn’t look professional. Their pores and pimples are visible. They don’t try to perfect their imperfections which makes them look perfect because they are real human beings. They wear the same clothes over and over. They combine their clothes with the ones they have. They don’t go to high school wearing high heels. Their hair isn’t styled all the time. They are like one of us. They do look natural. They do look normal. The real life topics are also mentioned and explained well such as first time, birth control, sexual orientation, sexual harrasment, mental disorders, feminism, religion, refugee, etc. They don’t actually fantasize subjects, they just play them out. I think, that’s really important and that does bring awareness. It’s good that there’s finally a show that is not a cliché, doesn’t doll up females glamorously, doesn’t make females and males look perfect or look like a covergirl or a coverboy featured in magazines, and doesn’t sexualize females and males by focusing on making body parts looking uber attractive. The characters use social media like do we. They imessage each other. They befriend each other on Facebook. They communicate with the ones whom they don’t have mobile numbers of through Facebook messenger. They check out Instagram, post pics there and like their friends’ pictures. They deal with real life struggles. They have their insecurities about the way they look, the way they fit in, etc. They make mistakes and they learn from their mistakes. They don’t judge each other. They defend and support each other. They help each other improve themselves. They make sure to bring out the best in each other. They bring down the barriers regarding Islamophobia and homophobia. They wipe away mental health stigma and discrimination.

The way the teenagers live on their own and take care of themselves might be the only thing which can feel sort of unrealistic. However, it’s not something very uncommon in Norway. As far as I know, parents travel a lot because of their work and some students live away from their parents to be closer to school and to get a better education. So, the teenagers learn to be independent at early age. Also, the writers of Skam mainly wanted to focus on the teenage characters, they didn’t consider including their parents in each episode.   

The cinematography and the lightning are actually amazing, even though the low budget of Skam. The slow motion is also so soft. The length of a certain scene doesn’t bore you, even though they make it too long because it feels like it’s one of moments that you’re living. They also have an excellent taste in music. The songs featured are like a key to a specific scene. They carry hidden meanings about storyline.

I really love how they wrote, portrayed and shot ‘love’, ‘make-out’ & ‘sex’ scenes on SKAM. Those scenes look so real and natural. It doesn’t look forced and fake at all. It doesn’t look like characters were only driven by lust and desire. It looks like characters were actually driven by love, romance and passion. The way characters interact with each other in those scenes also look so beautiful. The characters don’t only kiss and have sex, but they also stroke each other’s cheeks and hair gently, give each other an eskimo kiss, stare at each other so nicely and smile with their eyes. It all looks so pure, so soft and so genuine. 

The actors & actresses are actually young. They are at their 15s-20s. Their real ages match so well with their characters’ ages which makes the show credible. So, the casting is well done. You don’t get surprised by actors’ real age and you don’t get confused and distracted with the question “how a 30-year-old can play a 15-year-old?”. 

The cast isn’t experienced but they all act so successfully. Their acting skills are actually mindblowing. They really live the moment. They experience all those emotions. They are all so talented. There’s not a single character that makes you think “this one can not act”. The cast didn’t do anything to publicize the show. Most of them weren’t even popular or well known before the show aired. Some of them have day jobs such as telemarketer and barista, besides acting. So, their recognition couldn’t have been used for promoting the show. The crew also didn’t jump in marketing. They stayed away from advertisement. They kind of kept the show and the actors private from the press and media. They only used social media. They didn’t even consider airing the show with English subtitles because they had no idea how big the show was going to be. They thought it would only be watched in Norway and in Scandinavian countries such as Sweden and Denmark. After the show became popular all over the world, they still couldn’t air the show with english subtitles because of copyright issues with music. So this is where Skam fans united together and helped each other watch the show by translating and uploading it. Skam fandom is so nice and helpful and continue to grow more and more each day.

To cut a long story short, SKAM is a honest show with raw and pure characters dealing with personal and social problems living in a real world. It ain’t like any high school series that aired or you watched before. It focuses on the characters’ struggles, attractions, interactions and friendships. It is quite relatable. No wonder, it’s what made the show so compelling and so promising.

#skam #skamdaily #shamedaily #skam tv show #skam tv series #norwegian tv #review #bla bla bla #anything skam #skam related

[rolandfontana]

National Security Telecom Purchase Ban: Say What?

For more than a decade, China has blocked American tech companies from fully participating in China’s Internet boom. If you know China’s Internet-related laws for foreign companies and you have represented foreign companies trying to proft from China’s Internet, you know that in most cases, the reality for foreign companies has been much worse even than the laws. To put it bluntly, the way China treats foreign companies is what has prevented companies like Google, Facebook, Uber, Amazon, and even Apple (FAANG) from succeeding wildly in China. Those who believe it a coincidence that these five companies have done so well worldwide as compared to China either unintentionally or deliberately do not understand how China has treated these companies. Or, as the New York Times accurately put its in As Huawei Loses Google, the U.S.-China Tech Cold War Gets Its Iron Curtain:

The digital Iron Curtain has been long in the making. From its earliest days dealing with the internet, the Chinese government has squelched content it didn’t like. Today, the Chinese internet at first glance doesn’t look much like the one the rest of the world uses. It has different platforms, ideals and business strategies, all tended carefully by censors.

And just as the way China has treated foreign tech companies should come as no surprise to those who regularly do business with China, U.S. retaliation for that treatment has not come as a surprise to many in China:

Others in China point to the country’s own barriers against competitors as a strategy that was going to provoke retaliation sooner or later. At some point, the United States was bound to use reciprocity in dealing with a closed Chinese internet market. One popular blog post explained that reciprocity has been translated into “mutual benefit” in Chinese, which explains why many in China didn’t understand that the idea could be used in retaliation.

Another popular blog post drives the point even more clearly.

“You’ve been opposing the U.S. for many years,” said the headline. “You should be long prepared that the U.S. will oppose you one day.”

A large part (so far) of U.S. tech retaliation has been against Huawei, “a Chinese multinational telecommunications equipment and consumer electronics manufacturer, headquartered in Shenzhen, Guangdong, China …. founded by a former People’s Liberation Army officer.” See Wikipedia. The U.S. is action against China in two ways. The first is a ban on sales of technical products to Huawei, with the threat that this ban will be extended to other Chinese companies. The second is a ban on purchases of telecom products from Chinese companies, with Huawei as the probable initial target. I discussed the sales ban yesterday in The Huawei Sales Ban: Brrrrr. In this post I consider the purchase ban.

The purchase ban was implemented by an Executive Order issued on May 15, 2019, entitled Executive Order on Securing the Information and Communications Technology and Services Supply Chain. In the Order, President Trump declares a national emergency to counter “foreign adversaries” threatening the U.S. telecom sector by selling certain telecommunications products to persons located in the United States. Under powers granted under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act (IEEPA), President Trump ordered the United States Department of Commerce to issue rules to prohibit the import of offending products into the United States.

The U.S. administration has been working to impose a ban on imports of telecom products from China’s Huawei and this Order is generally seen as the final implementation of that plan. This order goes well beyond just prohibiting the U.S. government and its agencies from buying Huawei telecom products; it will impose a general ban on purchasing such products by any U.S. person/entity. It is an absolute, nationwide ban.

The Order itself does not refer to Huawei specifically. It refers only to “foreign adversaries” and it gives the Department of Commerce 150 days to publish the foreign adversaries list. We can though assume for now that at a very minimum Huawei will be on that list.

This then means, for example, that rural U.S. telecoms that rely on inexpensive Huawei telecom equipment will be forced to find an alternative supplier. The media is reporting (and I believe rightly) that the result of this ban will a major blow for rural American telecom companies, since no alternative supplier that meets their needs has been identified.

There is much that is not clear about this Order. The uncertainty is at least party due to the fact that this appears to be the first use of the IEEPA national security sanction involving the sale of a commercial product. The 30 Existing IEEPA national security sanctions are listed by the Department of the Treasury on its Sanctions Programs list here and a quick review of those sanctions shows they fall into the more traditional notion of what constitutes a foreign based national emergency. Prohibiting the purchase of Huawei products does not fit easily into the tradition of sanctions under the IEPPA program. This means how this sanction will be applied is uncertain.

The next thing apparent from reviewing the sanctions list is that no country in Asia other than North Korea had previously been placed on it. If, as expected, various Chinese companies, including Huawei get placed on this list, China will be joining pariah regimes such as Russia, Iran, North Korea and South Sudan. This will significantly alter the U.S. relationship with China from business adversaries to political adversaries. This is a major event and it should be seen that way in the United States, particularly since it is not clear there is a general consensus in the United States for placing China in this category.

The following additional open issues are more technical but also significant:

1. The Order requires the Department of Commerce to designate the specific foreign adversaries that will be subject to the U.S. purchase ban. As stated in the Order, a foreign adversary can be a nation state, a company or an individual. It is almost certain Huawei will be listed as a foreign adversary. What is not known is whether other Chinese companies such as ZTE will also make the list. Will the entire PRC be placed on the list? Will entities and countries outside China be placed on the list? At this time we just do not know.

2. The order states its goal is to protect the United States in the following sectors:

— Information and communications technology

— Critical infrastructure

— Digital economy

— National security

As I have noted above, this list goes far beyond any previous uses of the IEEPA. The list moves from the classical definitions of national security to purely economic spheres such as the digital economy. Whatever anyone thinks of that broadened scope, the fact is the U.S. has no experience with this type of regulation coming from an executive order. For that reason, we do not know what its immediate impact will be or its impact in the future. Will the U.S. government eventually convert all economic conflicts with foreign competitors into national emergencies?

3. Though the Order is couched in terms of telecom equipment, its definition of impacted technology is very broad:

(c) the term “information and communications technology or services” means any hardware, software, or other product or service primarily intended to fulfill or enable the function of information or data processing, storage, retrieval, or communication by electronic means, including transmission, storage, and display.

This definition can apply to virtually any modern electronic product. Obviously, it applies to the telecom switches sold by Huawei to the rural telecoms in the U.S., but it also applies to Huawei smartphones. More significantly, it can be read to apply the Internet of Things (IoT) devices that are incorporated in the huge variety of “smart products” currently being imported from China and the rest of the world. Much of the work I and the other China lawyers at my firm have been doing for the last five years has involved IoT devices.

Consider the IoT issue. Say the U.S. designates China as a whole to be a foreign adversary. And say the U.S. follows the clear language of the definition to include IoT devices as products that fall under the purchase ban. Designating of IoT devices as a security threat would not be far fetched. Bruce Shneier outlined the threat from IoT in his recent book Click Here to Kill Everybody. The State of California has recognized this threat by promulgating IoT security rules. Yesterday, the U.S. Department of Security warned of Chinese made drones of secretly gathering up and sending back sensitive military information to China. See DHS warns of ‘strong concerns’ that Chinese-made drones are stealing data. Our China lawyers have done probably at least a half a dozen transactions involving Chinese drones and I mention this to show the extent of the impact this ban might have.

A vast number of products imported from China contain an IoT component. A huge number of the electronic devices imported from China implement a feature that allows it to be controlled by a smartphone or laptop. If the Order is enforced in a completely consistent way and IF the entire country of China is designated as a foreign adversary, a huge list of electronic products imported from China will be banned from sale to the United States. Even if this will not be the immediate impact of the Order, the threat remains that the Order could be expanded at any time to have this impact.

Note also that there is no way to avoid this result. The ban follows the component. It will not work to move production to a neutral country and then have the component shipped from China and incorporated into a product made in that third country. The ban follows the specific IoT (telecom) component. In a world of interlocking supply chains, determining the source of each and every critical component for each and every electronic product produced from each and every country in the world will be overwhelming.

The end result of this Order is uncertainty and risk. Initially, the risk comes from direct purchases of telecom products from China. But as the process works out, the risk may infect the entire world trading system. The final result is hard to predict. What we can say, however, is what we have been saying for nearly a year: relations between China and the United States are on a straight-line decline with no end in sight.

National Security Telecom Purchase Ban: Say What? syndicated from https://immigrationattorneyto.wordpress.com/

[vandalsandvagrants]

In my role as Royal Calandrian Historian I've been tasked by this office with relating the following story for public consumption. A story that on it's surface may seem somewhat frivolous but is an important one in the history of our great Nation and will, in this record, be relayed authoritatively to the people for the first time While it took place near 20 years ago when I was a small girl, every detail has been confirmed to me both by the people at it's core who are still with us as well as verified by documentation where possible. As a result, this book will bear the symbol of this office, meaning it is now the official account of the story, long the subject of much gossip and half-truths.

To understand this story some geographic knowledge is required of the Kingdoms and Nations mentioned within. While the principal nations are well known regionally, interest of this story is widespread, being as it has inspired similar undertakings around the globe. As such a very amateur verbal cartography will be undertaken.

The primary, of course, is Calandria itself. A relatively small, coastal nation on the eastern side of the Great Western Continent. Calandria has always had little in the way of land but blessed by what land there was. The Great Coastal Mountains encircle our western borders, providing the bountiful mineral resources that has long made Calandrian wealth the envy of many while simultaneously acting as the country's best defence against any aggression from those envious parties. Attempts by foreign parties to invade via the narrow mountain paths have always been beaten back by our dedicated soldiers with the bare minimum of casualties and the maximum of ease. After the mountains there is a relatively small valley of good farmland and roads before one reaches the capital city. The capital city encompasses the entire coastal region. The world's largest and busiest seaport is here which allows our ships to trade our wealth across the globe as well as providing docking for the unrivalled Royal Calandrian Navy. Thus it is that we are protected on land by the mighty mountains and on sea by our powerful ships.

These reasons, among others, explain why in it's long history, Calandria has never been successfully been invaded or there been a serious attempt made to do so. For near two thousand years, since the old Western Empire was fractured, Calandria has been a stable and prosperous nation. The people of Calandria noble and true, their skins tanned a light brown by the sun of our coast and their mannerisms orderly and refined.

The Ascibian Empire is, I suppose, the secondary player here. A nation of tremendous physical size but little by way of resources. It's once powerful military had been humbled in recent attempts at conquest at the time of our story. This led to economic problems within as, naturally, once a nation who has built itself on the spoils of war as well as dedicated much of their production to supplying their armies with supplies and materials finds itself in peacetime they can find the foundation they've built their economy upon to be a precarious one.

Despite these problems, The Ascibians had long been friends to Calandria for both geographic and economic reasons. Calandria was and is the Empire's largest trading partner. The Empire had the vast and bountiful farmlands Calandria didn't and required the metals and money that Calandria could exchange. Calandria has always been surrounded on all sides by the Ascibians. They shared the mountainous border to our west and stretched on for hundreds of miles both North and South. Trading via land would be near impossible without a friendly relationship with the Ascibians. Once the dominant power on the continent, at the time of our story they were thought by many to be in the final stages of any real power. Physically, Ascibian people tend towards the pale and slender.

The final nation relevant to our story is Nilfenhem. Less a nation really than a loose tribal collection of pirates, hunters, fishermen and raiders united under the banner of a War Chief. The harsh icy coasts of the North and several of the larger islands in the Frozen Sea were the lands they called home. Perhaps a result of the harsh climes, their people grew abnormally large and strong. It was their victories over the Ascibians that truly halted the Empire's aggressive tendencies and, though now at peace, there remained an unease between the two nations.

Throughout the story there may some historical issues that may need clarification. If so, I will provide editors annotations as RCH.

A final note before our story begins. Some of you may be asking both how I'm able to relay such intimate details about the events as well as why this office would write of them in such ribald and descriptive terms. The answer to the first question is simply the diligent research this office is known for combined with extensive interviews. The answer to the second, I suspect anyway, is that some of our drier histories have sold quite poorly amongst the public of late and our office is facing it's bi-annual budgetary review. I'm told amongst the common folk that tales of this sort are quite popular.

~Chapter One, in which tensions boil over~

"It is foolishness, utter foolishness"

Those were the words spoken by Princess Eloise as she paced about her sitting room. If she'd been the sort to swear or throw things she might very well have done so. This was not in her character, however. She'd been raised to be the very picture of stolid Calandrian royalty and the fire in her blue eyes were the only outward signs of her anger and disbelief. The wind was cool, a light breeze coming in from the bay that the Seaside Castle overlooked.

Our Princess was truly a beauty. She was said by all who saw her to not just conform to the standards of Calandrian appearance but also to be the finest example of it seen to date. She was of medium height with long, golden hair that was usually tied into an elaborate braid and skin that had been lightly kissed by the sun. Her face was at once aristocratic and delicate. High cheekbones and and a small, slightly upturned nose spoke to her high breeding while the sparkling sapphires of her eyes as well as the fullness of her lips simply spoke to how blessed she'd been. Her body was slender, soft and exceedingly well curved. Those curves, while earning her the admiration of all visiting nobility, palace guards and the occasional lucky messenger, tended to be well obscured by the formal, flowing silks she was required to wear as crown princess.

Truly, if she was one of many children she'd have been a terrific boon to her father. He could have demanded near anything he wanted for her hand and likely have found twenty dukes or visiting kings willing to pay the price.

But she was not one of many. She was one of one. The only child birthed by her mother, Queen Wilhelmina, before her tragic death when the Princess was only two years old. Eloise's marriage would determine the next King and the foolishness of which she spoke was the decision made in that regard. Today was the day marking her 18th year and, as custom, her betrothal had been announced. King Pietrus the IV had announced that she would be married to Francis, youngest of the three sons of the Ascibian Emperor.

(RCH: King Pietrus, though some may see him as the villain of this piece, was said by many to be a far more reasonable man before the death of his wife. Whether this is true or not, he was widely been come to known as King Pietrus the Incredibly Short-Sighted.)

"I don't know, Milady" spoke Georgina, one of the Princess' attendants "Francis is quite handsome and a Prince to boot. Girl could do worse."

"Don't be so bloody daft." the Princess replied, using language that was among the harshest she'd ever spoken "I was always going to marry someone of high birth. And handsomeness has nothing to do with the matter."

Eloise was no naive girl. She'd long known and accepted that any marriage she'd have would be one of political machination rather than of any childish notions of romantic love. What she'd long hoped for, what she saw as her duty, was that her father would choose the head of a powerful nation and important ally to align with and who'd rule to the benefit of both lands. Failing that, a intelligent Calandrian noble with a good head for statesmanship and warfare who'd make a fine king. As a last resort, she'd even have accepted a relatively harmless simpleton who she could rule through.

But Francis was none of those things. He was the scion of a dying nation who made no secret of his desire for the Calandrian throne merely as a means to funnel wealth to the rule of his father and then eldest brother in order to revive their failing military campaigns. He had no real head for military tactics or statesmanship either. A rude, vain boy who cared for little but his own indulgences.

"And handsomeness would be of scant relief when subjected to his peculiarities in the bedchamber." this was the Princess' Lady-in-Waiting, Marietta speaking. She was a beautiful, slightly less proper sort with copper hair and a penchant for dressing to tempt the notions of decency. Today was no exception, her dress low cut enough to give any sailor passing by the bay with a powerful looking glass a glimpse of an impressive valley of cleavage. She was a few years older than the Princess and her oldest and dearest friend.

"Oh, those are just rumours." Georgina said dismissively "Like you'd be privy to that."

"Me, no." Marietta shook her head "But I spoke with some of the girls in the delegation they sent last year and they said to me that..."

(RCH: Prince Francis' particular peculiarities have never been conclusively revealed. Very few women would ever admit to having been subjected to them and the ones that have have never spoken as to them in detail. None of the principals would even repeat to this Historian what Marietta claimed. The most persistent rumours on the subject have involved several of the larger farm animals and their ruder bodily functions. It is said by some that that the official story of Francis' death of drowning at sea years later was simply to cover up the truth of one of his predilections gone horribly wrong. This has not been independently confirmed.)

"Enough." Eloise interjected. She wanted to continue on the subject she'd brought up and was being made ill by the stories being told "Regardless of his supposed monstrosity the point is that he would deplete the treasury to further his family's idiotic ambitions. We would be a vassal state to a dying, wounded beast. I cannot allow that."

"Well, what can you do?" Georgina asked "Your father's made up his mind."

"I...." Eloise didn't know and stopped her pacing as she did her best to think of a strategy. "I can entreat upon him to change his mind perhaps."

"Seems unlikely." Marietta replied with genuine sympathy "I've heard he's already let the Emperor know and the wedding is to be in two short weeks."

"Well, I can...."

Eloise looked about the room, desperate. All she saw were the eyes of her two loyal friends and her well appointed chamber. Nothing in her sight gave her any ideas as how to avoid her impending nuptials.

"I don't care!" the Princess continued, her mind still empty of ideas for escape. "I will not allow my father to throw this country into ruin simply because he's a believer in old alliances. I'd rather let those four idiots in the town who call for an end to noble rule and a people's republic have their way."

(RCH: While the People's Movement was growing at this point in history, the extent of it was still relatively unknown by the Princess. She really did believe she was simply speaking of Efram Jacobs, William Thurgood, Anton Tebeds and Ignatius Poole, then the authors of the popular treatises on the benefits of a democratic government now referred to as The People's Manifestos. The Princess was a quarter correct in this assertion however as Jacobs was indeed an idiot who'd simply been credited as a contributing author because he worked in, and could provide access to, a printing shop.)

Georgina gasped audibly at this statement

"Milady, lower your voice." she whispered "Any folk, even nobles, who're found to be sympathizing with that lot are hanged by your father's decree."

"I don't care." the Princess replied "I'd rather roll the dice with what the mob thinks than let my fool of a father undo us with his lunacy."

"Milady, I beg you, lower your voice." Georgina looked genuinely fearful "Your father's guards are right outside."

"Half of the entire army could be here in the room and I'd say the exact same...."

"I think she's right, Princess." Marietta interjected, her expression seemingly undecided between concern and a wicked smile. "You never know who might hear you."

This did give Eloise pause. Marietta was not a sheltered, naive girl like Georgina. She knew the ways of the world. Eloise always gave Marietta's advice a great deal of weight and thought. She dropped the subject and sat down unceremoniously on her fainting couch, her frustration making the furniture's stated purpose the furthest thing from possibility. The three sat in relative silence for the rest of the afternoon as they continued with their needlework.

It was over the Princess' dinner with her father that night where she made her case for him to change his mind. She recounted all of her good practical reasons for why his choice had been a foolish one. To nearly every one of her arguments he'd simply responded with a patronizing "There, there" or "This is why men rule and not women" which had infuriated her to no end. He accused her of childishness and ignorance no matter how she went about detailing why such a marriage would spell ruin for the Kingdom. All he could respond with was simplicities about old friendships and parables about naive creatures who could not see the larger world around them. It was when Eloise, at her wits end, began to bring up the unusual sexual appetites her husband-to-be was said to have that her Father finally lost his patience.

"I am the King. My word is absolute law!" he shouted. Eloise simply looked at him angrily. He was an elderly man now. He'd had her at an advanced age and he was no longer the imposing presence of her youth.

"Father, I..."

"No!" he shouted again "You will marry who I have decided. You will provide him a sympathetic ear as he rules this land. Whatever he may ask of you in the bedroom it will be your wifely duty to consent!"

With his final words he threw his utensils down and angrily pushed his chair back from the table. The attending staff looked terrified as they watched the outburst. King Pietrus had been heard to order staff executed for the simplest offences when in a rage. Eloise remained seated throughout the King's outburst. She finished her meal icily as her father stormed from the dining hall. The cold look in her eyes and the furious action of her knife a testament to how she remained true to her convictions.

There was to be no more discussion on the subject that evening and Princess Eloise retired to her bedchamber afterwards. She lay in her bed angrily for several hours, trying to rack her brain for some manner of appeal but finding none, before drifting off into a fitful, restless sleep. She dreamed of nothing as she slept several hours, the breeze from the ocean turning the warm summer day into a chilly night. It was the sound of her bed chamber door closing gently that woke her and so she sat up, clutching her thick quilt to her body. If it was some impertinent guard or, worse, some assailant, she knew the thin material of her bed clothes did little to hide her form.

"Who's there?" She whispered into the dark of her room.

"It's me, Eloise" the voice was unmistakably that of Marietta. The Princess breathed a sigh of relief before letting out an annoyed grumble.

"Oh for the last time...." She began as she let her quilt fall "I thought I made myself quite clear on this front Mari. Firstly, I do not think that I need any kissing 'practice' before my wedding day and secondly I do know that you merely use that as the flimsiest of pretexts to try to indulge in some of your own deviancy."

"What? No. Not that." Marietta responded quickly although as she took in the sight of the Princess, somehow lovelier than ever unmade up, relatively uncovered and with her hair loose about her shoulders, she seemed to reconsider "Well, I mean unless you have had a change of...."

"What is it then?" the Princess cut in "I have very little time left before I'm wed to that beast and would like to at least indulge in some sleep."

Marietta sat on the bed and looked into Eloise's eyes. There was none of Marietta's usual lightheartedness in her tone but a serious purpose the likes of which the Princess could not recall hearing in her friend before.

"Have you been able to persuade your father as to your thoughts on the matter?" Marietta enquired

"No" Eloise said angrily, recounting the tale of her dinner.

"Any thoughts as to another recourse?"

"Well, I had been day dreaming about luring Francis into my bedchamber on my wedding night and seeing how the pig would enjoy a garrote wire pulled tight around his neck." the Princess offered, cheerlessly

(RCH: The Princess, according to some accounts, would have been dismayed to learn that if she'd gone through with this plan that Francis would have enjoyed it quite a bit.)

Marietta continued her line of questioning

"The thing you said earlier. About rather letting the country fall into the hands of the People's Movement, rather than go through with this wedding?"

"What of it?" The Princess asked

"Did you mean it?"

Eloise looked harshly at her friend. She could not know why she was asking. If it was as an agent of her father's Eloise would not put it past him to order her own neck in a noose the evening of her wedding. Still, she trusted Marietta. Implicitly and with all things.

"I did." the Princess nodded earnestly

"What if I told you I knew of a way to perhaps set that in motion?" Marietta asked of her friend, a healthy does of mischief in her eyes. "Would you agree to that?"

Eloise looked at her Marietta skeptically. She didn't know what Mari could possibly have meant. She didn't even know the size and scale of the movement she was discussing. All Eloise knew were two things. First, that if she agreed she would be betraying her family, her nation and everything she'd been raised to believe since childhood. Secondly, that she had to agree for the good of all of the things she'd be betraying. Eloise nodded her head. Marietta's grin grew wider.

"Beautiful. Tomorrow then." Marietta leaned in and gave Eloise a tender kiss on the cheek.

~Chapter Two, wherein a plan is hatched~

Eloise's sleep before Marietta's intrusion to her room had been fitful and uneasy and afterwards it was completely of reach. The Princess kept playing their interaction in her head over and over again. She debated her decision over and over again, changing her mind and re-changing it through the night. She still had not been able to fall asleep when the sunlight flooded her room and permanently ended her attempts to do so. Eloise had only just finished dressing when Marietta knocked at her door. Report Story "Come."

Marietta entered with a small tray that held Eloise's breakfast and she put it down on the small oaken table where Eloise usually ate her morning meal.

"I didn't dream last night, did I Mari?" Eloise asked sleepily as she made her way to her food.

"I'm afraid not, love."

The Princess smiled weakly. In a way, she almost hoped she had dreamed it. It'd mean the decision would be out of her hands.

"So we're still to enact our plan, whatever it may be, today?"

"We are." Marietta said with a simple nod. "Provided you still want to, of course."

Eloise tried to give the matter one final thought but she knew there was little to debate. She'd made up her mind and knew her course of action.

"What must I do?" the Princess finally asked, confirming her intentions.

Marietta gave pause. It almost seemed as though she too had been wishing that Eloise had reconsidered. Still, the look of regret on her face was only a momentary one and, after brushing a few strands of hair from her face, Marietta turned to the Princess with the same look of purpose and determination that Eloise had seen the night before.

"Nothing, for now." Marietta's eyes were red and weary. It looked as though she too had not slept since their late night meeting. "The less you know of the details, the better."

"So simply stay put?"

"Again, for now." Marietta nodded "Simply go about your normal day. If you notice anything unusual, don't mention it or draw attention to it. Don't take visitors. Say you're feeling ill and avoid dinner. You must be back in your chambers by sunset and have a small bag prepared."

"For coin?"

"No coin, just whatever jewels you may have that are small and especially valuable."

Eloise nodded. Easy enough instructions to be sure. She did as instructed, bathing and then dressing as she would any other day. She ate her breakfast, spent time sewing and at her singing lesson, lunched and then was back in her chambers in the afternoon. All day, curious sort that she was, Eloise couldn't help but try to look for anything out of the usual that day. If only to explain some small part of Marietta's cryptic instructions to her. But there was no such sign that the Princess could detect.

(RCH: Eamon Phrubish, then People's Movement Spymaster and now Minister of Intelligence, said when interviewed that there were no less than 38 things the Princess could have noticed that were unusual on that day indicating his intricate plot if she'd had a keener eye. This has not been corroborated and Millicent Arris, his then and now deputy, dismissed that claim, surmising "He was probably just trying to impress you dear.")

And so, as instructed, Eloise had retired in the afternoon, claiming illness and told her guards that she would not be attending dinner if called upon. She strutted impatiently around her room, her heart pounding and her head racing. The idea that Marietta may be an agent in her father's employ not completely gone from her mind, nor her worries that even if she weren't Marietta's scheme might be discovered, jeopardizing her safety dreadfully. She put her worries aside to gather what jewels she could. The Princess had an impressive collection, accrued over the years and put her most valuable pieces into the bag. Various rings, a loose jewels she'd been given and the Royal Calandrian Emerald were among some of the exceedingly rare and valuable pieces she assembled.

Her worries did vanish eventually. When the night seemed it's darkest and Princess Eloise had been pacing for what seemed like hours, there was a knock on her door. Eloise approached it cautiously and was relieved to hear the voice of her dearest friend on the other side.

"Open up, Ellie, it's Mari." Came her hushed, smoky whisper. Eloise opened the door. Marietta nearly yanked the Princesses hand from her wrist as she pulled her into the corridor.

"There's no time to waste, Ellie, we must be off right away." Mari said as they hurried down a hallway. Eloise had no time to speak or question it, she just went with Marietta through the twists and turns of a servants entrance that Eloise had never been down before, one hand clasped by her friend, the other clutching her bag of valuables. The castle was large, with a great many entrances and exits, and Marietta seemed intent on finding a specific one. They carried through at great haste before arriving at a hallway that branched off both to their left and to their right. This caused Marietta to pause and try to think.

"It was left, right, straight, left, left....Oh blast you Eamon, you self-important git." Marietta cursed "I could have written this down."

"Mari, what's going on?" Eloise asked. That drew a sympathetic look from her friend who nonetheless shook her head and again grabbed her friend's hand.

"Once we're outside, Elle, I promise." She said before taking off down the hallway to the left. Eloise could feel the air getting cooler as they reached a final door. Unlike any door to the outside Eloise had ever seen in her castle, there were no guards standing outside of it, nor a heavy bolt lock sealing it shut. Marietta sighed her relief as she saw it and yanked the heavy door open. The cool air rushed over the girls as they emerged onto some sort of loading dock. Clearly, judging by the various carts and boxes, a place where merchants came to make deliveries to the King. There was a small stone staircase that led them down even further and Marietta went down it, her eyes searching about as if looking for something in particular.

"Blast, that lying oaf. He's not here." She exclaimed, frustrated. Eloise stopped, took a second to catch her breath, before finally saying something about their mad dash.

"Who isn't here, Mari? What's going on?" Eloise demanded. Marietta looked at the Princess momentarily, seeming to weigh what to say before replying.

"Alright. Well, here's the thing. A few months ago I took to town for a while. There, I met up with this lovely man. Will Thurgood." She explained, still looking around. Eloise did not recognize the name. Marietta recognized the confusion on her friend's face and explained. "The one actually writing most of those pamphlets. Advocating an end to your father's rule and power to the people."

Eloise nodded.

"Him. Yes. I hate him."

"Why? Oh Eloise don't you see he's right? It's wrong for anyone to rule simply by virtue of their birthright instead of their capacity to do so. You can see this yourself with your father's mad decisions." She said, making an eloquent case.

"That's all very well and good but in one of those pamphlets he refers to me a useless, painted up tart who clothes herself in garish silks that may as well be made of the common people's blood and tears." Eloise countered angrily. She was still fuming about that one.

(RCH: When interviewed for this history, Prime Minister Thurgood made specific request to apologize for this remark noting that attacking the Princess, still a popular figure even among those sympathetic to the Democratization of the Kingdom, was one of his greatest missteps in attempting to ferment popular support. Additionally he added "Although in my defence, nobody writes well in their 20's")

"Yes, well, he's a very passionate man. And we've become...friends since and he's softened in his stance on you thanks to me. So when I told him of your willingness to help the cause he set your escape in motion."

"My escape? Where am I going?" Eloise asked.

"Nilfenhem" Marietta said, apologetically. Eloise was practically speechless.

"Nilfenhem?! Among those barbarians and animals?" She protested. Eloise had been with her father many years ago when they'd received the young War Chief's delegation. She'd been disgusted with them, draped in coarse animal furs and carrying weapons with them. The War chief in particular. A bearded, monster of a man who spoke coarsely and showed neither her father nor her nation the proper respect.

"Best we could do, unfortunately." Marietta said apologetically "Nilfenhem is the nearest nation we can get to by land."

"Why not the docks? Spirit me by boat to one of the island kingdoms."

"By sea is where your Father would think to look first, silly. And with his Navy any nation sheltering you would be demolished." Marietta said, a statement that Eloise nodded along glumly with. "But we have contacts in Nilfenhem. And we've arranged passage via carriage for you and ensured asylum."

"But...but...." Eloise continued to try and poke holes in the plan "We'll have to go through nearly all of Ascibia! Won't they be looking for me too?"

"Yes but with their wars to the South and the West their military roads heading North are near deserted and have been opened up for trade. We've arranged someone to transport you and guide you under the guise of a Merchant and his Daughter."

"But..."

"No buts, Elle. This is the only way. While you're gone the Movement will try to assemble a meeting with the Nobles. With no heir to the throne and not wanting the Ascibians to claim the country, William believes the Nobles will agree to some form of popular rule."

Eloise nodded. That did make a certain degree of sense. The idea of living in Nilfenhem worried her terribly though. She'd heard stories about how they ate raw meat and clubbed their women before raping them as a means of procreation. She relented however. It was for the good of the Kingdom even if it was terrible for her. The princess nodded and sat on the steps, waiting for this accompaniment that Marietta had spoken of. She looked back at the castle glumly. She knew she might never see it again. Never see her Father again. The thought saddened her greatly. Her sadness was interrupted, however, by the sound of two approaching figures. Marietta looked around the corner and cursed.

"Blast. Two guards. Eamon said the bloody guards would...Blast him!" Marietta cursed in a whisper. She looked around the corner. The guards were clearly making their rounds and would be at their location shortly. Marietta thought to her self a moment, grimaced and then took Eloise's hand one last time, softly. The copper haired beauty smiling sweetly at her friend.

"You see that clearing, Elle?" Marietta pointed to a break in the wall that must have been where the Merchants came in on their carriages. Eloise nodded. "I'm going to deal with these two. As soon as I've got them going back the way they came, run there silently and swiftly. Our man will be by shortly. He'll call himself Olaf and refer to you as Sonia. Got it?"

"Got it."

"And should anyone ever ask, I do this for you and the good of our Kingdom." Mari said sadly as she embraced her friend. She took one last look into the Princesses eyes before breaking the hug. She took a step towards the passage the Guards were walking down before returning to the Princess.

"Oh to hell with it, I may not get the chance again." Marietta said as she strongly took the Princess in her arms and kissed her. Not the kind of friendly kiss that the two friends had shared dozens of but a kiss of love and lust combined. The Princess moaned into the kiss, strong and soft as it was, feeling Marietta's hands pull her body towards, her own soft form. It was Eloise's first proper kiss and she enjoyed every fleeting second. The Princess had only just began to return the kiss when Marietta broke it and continued around the corner. Eloise watched as she did. Seeing her friend in a new light. So beautiful and vivacious and sweet. Eloise wished, for a moment, that she had taken Marietta up on some of her earlier offers to kiss. As it was, she simply hid on the steps, watching Marietta as she cautiously approached the guards.

"Who goes there!" Boomed one as soon as he saw her, pointing his long spear in her direction. Marietta simply threw up her hands

"A maid, nothing more." Marietta said innocently. The two guards kept their spears up and kept their distance from her.

"Yeah, she's the Princess' friend." The other, shorter, one said, taking stock of her before lowering his spear. "Seen her around the Castle plenty."

"Shouldn't be out at this hour Miss. Lesser guards might have run you through." The other guard said, also lowering his defences

"But you're not just any soldiers, are you?" Marietta said, her voice dropping a bit and approaching them. "You're palace guards. The best of our nation."

"Well, the Navy boys might say something about that." the shorter one said modestly "But we do know a thing or two about a thing or two."

"Don't be modest. You boys are trained in riding, long arms, hand to hand fighting and are the finest swordsmen we have." Marietta continued "In fact, I bet you two are so proud of your talents you'd be willing to engage in a little bit of sword combat for me, just to demonstrate your talents."

"Can't do that on duty, Ma'am." The Taller one said "But at the garrison every week we have a little tourney and...."

Marietta shook her head

"You misunderstand me. I was thinking just back here, round the servants quarters, you two boys could have just an excellent sword fight in my mouth."

The shorter guard looked at the taller one, who looked back. They fully understood her meaning. Marietta walked back along the passage the way they'd came, swaying her hips. The Guards turned and followed her eagerly. Eloise, whose jaw had dropped as much as either guard's by Marietta's claim was roused into remembering her instructions and darted for the gate in the wall as the Guards went forth to claim their prize. Eloise thought about the possibility of it being the last time she saw Marietta and that made her almost unbearably sad as she passed out of the Castle, onto the little dirt road.

(RCH: Although, later, Eloise was to say that it also would have been strangely fitting. When interviewed for this history Lady Marietta Thurgood, formerly Marietta Tillson, did not confirm or deny the account of that night, simply saying "Well, if that's what you've heard". In this Historian's opinion these facts are largely to be believed, both due to second hand confirmation from many of the palace guards, although none would admit to being one of the two specifically, as well as the nature of the Prime Minister's wife herself. Lady Thurgood, now in her 45th year, remains a captivating and, shall we say, aggressive woman. In an entirely unrelated note, this particular Junior Historian's next work, tentatively scheduled for sometime next year, will be a biography of Lady Thurgood, written with the Lady's assistance at her winter estates. Look for it!)

~Chapter Three, in which things turn dark~

Eloise had sat in a ditch just outside the gates for ten silent minutes, fearing discovery with every second, before she finally heard the creaking of wheels draw along the dusty road. She took a nervous glance down the pitch dark of the road and saw, indeed, a small carriage being drawn by a single horse. She remained hidden, unsure of this being the right carriage until it was nearly on top of her, when she waved to the driver. An immense, black bearded man wearing the simple cloak of a merchant. He saw her and gave a small nod.

"Which one are you then?" his voice was unmistakably that of a Nilfenman. Coarse and unrefined. "The slut or the Princess?"

"The Princess." Eloise said quickly, lifting her dress to avoid the mud as she got out of the ditch before pausing to rebuke him "And don't call her a slut."

"Whatever," he shrugged.

"Let's just be on our way." she said, stomping up to the carriage. The man, still cloaked, shook his head.

"Got to get you lookin' the part, first." He said, tossing a sack at her. Eloise caught it and looked inside. There was a peasant dress, worn and weary, as well as what looked to be a drinking gourd of some sort. She sighed. She'd never worn such a thing before in her life. But she knew her decision meant she'd have to leave some of her luxuries behind. She took up the gourd though, it was far heavier than it should be if it contained water and there was a thick black liquid around the rim. She touched it and put it to her nose, it had no smell.

"That's for your hair, not to drink. Get it in while you're still wearing your silky nonsense so it doesn't stain the dress."

Eloise sighed once again. Her blonde locks had been a great source of pride to her. One of the reasons she was so frequently hailed as perhaps the fairest princess her nation had ever seen. Poets and Minstrels had composed poems and songs to their golden colour and their silken hue.

(RCH: Although another of the Movement's early pamphlets had also described them as "...The bewitching flaxen tentacles of the very symbol of our despot's oppression, parasitically feeding off the toil of our labourers." When reached for comment Prime Minister Thurgood disavowed the comment "I think Anton wrote that one, actually". When reached for comment about the Prime Minister's assertions Anton Tebeds, Chancellor of the Exchequer, denied this, claiming "It was William handled the words, I just projected out the economic models of a less protectionist trade policy. If you ask me, I think Will doesn't want to put his name to too many insults of the Queen because he knows Lady Thurgood will make him sleep in the guest chambers when your book comes out. We are off the record, right? Why are you still writing?")

But they would have to be gone as well. In a way it was fitting. Perhaps the most well-known symbol of her royalty cruelly denied her as she left it all behind. She poured some of the goop onto her hands and ran it through her hair. Surprisingly, the job went quickly, the liquid seeming particularly suited for this specific task and, in very little time, leaving her looking as though her hair had always been the colour of the night sky, An almost blue-ish black. Eloise ducked to the ground to wipe her hands of the dye before standing up.

"I'm going to the woods to change." Eloise said, causing her guide to shake his head.

"Nope. Not to let my eyes off you." he said firmly. She grumbled.

"Then at least turn around." she commanded, trying to sum up her most authoritative tone. He shrugged, as if the idea of staring at her naked body was not something that interested him in the slightest and did as requested. Eloise removed her elaborate silks, her delicate underthings, feeling the cool night air on her naked body for the very first time. Her nipples stiffening as she felt chills run through her. She put on the simple slip and dress quickly, not wanting to be naked in this barbarian's presence for longer than absolutely necessary. She dressed, the thin, rough cloth still clinging tightly to her womanly body, and made her way to the back of the carriage, stepping into it. It was empty, dirty and sparse. There was little more than two long boards along side either side of the wooden vehicle that she correctly interpreted were to be their beds for the coming journey. This was to be her home for the weeks or months that her journey would take. The thought made her want to cry. She sat down on one of the boards and looked desperately at the floor.

"You ready, your highness?" Olaf yelled as she could feel the carriage turn around.

"Yes." Eloise responded weakly while she began to regret, for the first time, her choices that led to her state.

~Chapter Four, in which a most foul offer is made~

Eloise awoke in only a few hours of sleep, the carriage still being pulled along at a steady and unspectacular pace. Whatever the plan was, it was not to make their way through the country side with great speed. Her sides ached from sleeping on the stiff board and her head pounded. She made her way to the front, though, and parted the curtain to where Olaf was driving them from, stepping out onto the little seat beside him. "Morning." He said, his cloak now off and his harsh, broad face visible. Eloise squinted for a second as she looked at him, her eyes still weary. But she recognized him. She knew him right away. The same unruly mass of black hair, same bushy beard. Same enormous frame.

"You....you're the Nilfenhem War Chief. Not some guide." She said, horrified to see the man who'd terrorized her so as a girl. He was as massive as she remembered, the ensuing years doing little to age him. If she had to guess she'd have said he was twice her 18 years but, she admitted, he'd looked the same age nearly 10 years ago.

"I am the War Chief. Yes." He nodded "Which makes me the best guide ever. And the best fighter ever and the best hunter ever and the best fisher ever and the best lover ever and so on and on. Your friends wanted to ensure your safety. So they agreed to a steep price to ensure the best protection for this scheme of theirs."

Eloise just glumly shook her head. She'd gone from being a fawned over princess to being a dirty merchant's assistant, assisting the man she used to have nightmares about, in less than a day. She stared ahead at the road they were travelling, clearly making their way west from the city.

"Your friends seem to know their business. There's been no attempt to block the roads this way. Apparently it didn't cross their minds." Olaf said, seemingly at once impressed with the intelligence of the Movement and contemptuous of the Army's response.

"News has gotten out then?" Eloise asked

"Indeed, messengers this way and back all night. Unless something else exciting happened last night it's a safe bet all of your vaunted Navy is setting up some blockade or another." Olaf gave the horse a little encouragement. Eloise simply sat and did her best to savour the sights of her homeland, knowing it may be her last chance to look on every leaf and tree that had once seemed to mean so much to her.

"We should use this as an opportunity." Olaf said, matter-of-factly "We will at some point be stopped and searched and you'll need to know our story."

"I'm Sonia and you're my father, Olaf." Eloise repeated.

"Tremendous." Olaf said, more contempt in his voice "And what village are we from? What do I sell? Why is my daughter with me instead of a proper assistant? Why are we returning with an empty carriage?"

"I don't...."

"Congratulations. You've gotten yourself captured and me killed. Or you killed and me having to bust open two guards' heads and forfeiting the second half of my payment." He spat "So, as I said, let's use the time to get this straight."

Olaf then spent the next 20 minutes imparting their slightly complicated back story. Each time she made even the slightest of mistakes making her start from scratch and repeat the process. Eventually she had learned the story to the point where she could recite it word for word, even answering slightly varied questions about it as he fired them at her.

"Not bad." He said finally, admitting she'd made the progress needed. Eloise beamed. She'd always been a smart girl.

Olaf's insistence on practice had been prescient for, no less than an hour or so later they did finally come upon a guard station. Two guards manned either side of the road, their Halberd's crossed so as to prevent any passage. Olaf brought the carriage to a halt and sat still as the guards approached them.

"State your business." Asked the one on his side, his Calandrian accent being a pleasant change to Eloise's ears even though she feared capture.

"I'm Olaf. Merchant." He said to the one who approached on his side. Eloise did as she'd practised, looking straight on ahead, even as the guard's weapon passed near her feet.

"Why are you here, Nilfenman?" He asked again

"Returning home. Made my sale."

The guard on Eloise's side looked hard at her

"You, girl, what did you sell?" He asked sharply, doing his best to examine every inch of her face.

"Whiskey. 18 barrels." She said plainly. Ordinarily she'd have thought to said sir but Olaf had strictly informed her that Nilfenwomen only recognized two titles, Father and Chief. If the man was neither, you'd address him plainly.

"How come your cart's not full then? Isn't that what merchants typically do from stop to stop?" This was directed to Olaf

"We just deal in Whiskey. Make it and sell it. Your Calandrian spirits are like water to my people. Won't sell." he shrugged. The one questioning Eloise kept at it.

"Where are you from? What's your name?"

"Sonia." She said, still doing her best to mute her upper class, educated tones. "The village of Bruggeshill."

This seemed to more or less satisfy the two of them. They clearly had bought Eloise's act and lowered their spears slightly.

"Seen anything suspicious on your way here?" one asked "We're looking for an escaped....prisoner."

"What does he look like?" Olaf asked

"She, actually. Blonde hair. Very comely. Posh and such." he said "Supposedly a chambermaid of someone. Stole something."

Eloise did her best not to smile at her description and then the fact that, though the Army was on alert, there was already a cover story floating around. Either these men didn't know they were looking for the Princess or they'd been told not to instruct the public. Either way, Eloise knew it meant that her disappearing was of great embarrassment and would cause great uproar when actually discovered. Marietta and the Movement's plan may just work.

"Nope," Olaf shook his head "No Calandrian women. Just my daughter here."

"Hold on a sec." The one looking at her said "Why'd you bring your daughter with you? I thought you Northerners didn't let your women out of the village."

Eloise didn't let it show but her expression froze. This had been the one part of her story they hadn't discussed. She had no idea what to answer. Thankfully, the question hadn't been posed to her.

"That's how I make money on my ride back." Olaf said "Either of you two lads wants to get your dick wet in her it's 10 of your gold coins or something of like value, your choice as to how she takes it."

Eloise remained still but inside she was livid. She knew he'd kept that from her on purpose. Acting as though she was a whore? Her old prejudices came back to her. The man was a beast. A vicious, cruel beast. And worse, he'd blown their cover. The guards would never believe that....

"Gods, you Nilfen are animals!" exclaimed the one who'd been questioning Olaf. The other one actually looked as though he was considering the offer.

"Suit yourself," Olaf shrugged "But her mouth is second to none I've ever had."

Eloise held still. She knew her life depended on it. But inside, she was as revolted as the first guard had looked and the second guard now looked.

"Get the hell out of Calandria, filth." The man said, waving them past. While both of them looked at Eloise with a mix of disgust and pity, believing her to be a girl being sold and enjoyed by her father. She'd never felt more rage and humiliation as they went past. Yet, she held her tongue, mot speaking until she was well sure they were past the ear shot of the guards. When they were she turned to him and spit at him, the glob of her saliva splashing against his robe.

"You contemptible, filthy cur. I am the heir to the throne of Calandria and I assure you that no matter what the risk to my personal self if you ever speak of me in such a manner again, regardless of the guise I'm under, I will make sure you are strung up and your belly opened for my personal amusement."

Olaf just wiped the spit from his robe.

"It worked didn't it? They couldn't wait to see the backs of us." He said "And you're going to have to get used to your inheritance being mainly null and void at this point. You're just a woman now. Act accordingly."

"No matter the station of my birth I would never allow anyone to speak to me as such or use me in such a disgusting fashion. I have never done anything like what you described. What you Northerners do with your women sickens me."

Olaf simply shrugged.

"And it's useless as a plan besides. We were saved by the good grace of Calandrian decency. If those two weren't such good examples of my nation's men our plans would all be for nought."

Olaf nudged the horse on a little faster, tiring of the sound of her voice.

"No, Princess, if those two weren't such good examples of your nation's men we'd have been delayed 10 minutes and have 20 extra gold pieces."

(RCH: Those two upstanding, if perhaps a bit gullible, Calandrian soldiers were Privates Edmund Cork and Barton Tilbis of the King's 3rd Guard Division and had in fact been briefed to watch for the Princess. When reached for comment Cork, now a Master Sgt. with the same Division, said "I kind of had a feeling something was up. She was a little too fresh-faced to be some Northerner's roadside meal ticket and when he brought up the thing about her mouth she definitely gave something away in her eyes. She could have snapped his head off she looked so angry. But the truth was I was as opposed to a union between the Princess and that Ascibian monster as anyone and was already something of a supporter of the Movement. So I certainly didn't want to call her out on it and send her back". Tilbis, retired from the Army and now a private merchant himself, said "That was the bloody Princess? Fuck me. Now I wish I'd had the ten gold pieces on me.")

~Chapter Five, in which hands are dirtied~

They'd travelled the same road for days now and the Great Western Mountains were in view. Both Olaf and Eloise knew that meant the border soon. Because of the harsh mountain passage to cross the border, Olaf had decided that they'd stop for the night and make camp rather than simply continue on through the night as had been their custom. He'd been driving for days and Eloise proved unable to take the reins from him. They'd found a small clearing and Olaf had started a fire before heading into the nearby woods to find something to eat. That was good news. Eloise was starving. She hadn't eaten a proper meal since leaving the palace and Olaf's supplies were just dried, cured meats that Eloise found awful. She'd eaten only tiny bits and pieces to get her strength up. Fresh something, anything, sounded delicious to her now. She sat near the fire and tried to warm her hands a little, the air was cool this near the Mountains. She'd been enjoying the fire so much that she'd barely even noticed Olaf's return with his arms full. He dropped the pile in front of her roughly, causing her to yelp. In front of her were two dead animals and a pile of various other things. She recoiled at the dead animals briefly before looking up at him, impressed at what he'd caught with seemingly no tools or weapons.

"How did you manage all this?" She asked, already trying to see what they all were.

"I'm the War Chief. Best hunter ever, best scrounger ever." He said, sitting down on a nearby log. "I don't know much about your wilds so some may not be edible, some may. Do you know?"

"Of course I do." Eloise said, asserting herself. "All I've done since I was a child is study my Kingdom. I can identify every blade of grass in our fields, every fish that they sell at the markets."

"Good for you." Olaf said, warming his own hands, clearly unimpressed.

"Like this," Eloise continued seeking to prove her point by holding up one of the root vegetables he'd brought "Is a Red Mountain Parsnip. Usually farmed, can grow wild. And these are Mountain Field or Princess Clara Mushrooms, named for their flecked spots. My great-great-great Aunt Clara was quite freckled about the time they became popular in our food and those are two Fastback Hares. Not eaten often, as they tend to be lean and quick, rather than your farmed rabbits but they can do in a pinch."

(RCH: While well taught, Princess Eloise had been taught something of a sanitized, royal family friendly version of our nation's history. Most in this office now accept the theory that Mountain Field Mushrooms had been renamed Princess Clara Mushrooms by the locals because of certain comments she'd made about the farmers in the Mountain region and their complaints about the heavy tax rates the local Nobles had imposed. Clara's remarks supporting the Nobility could only, in the eyes of certain locals, have sprung from the same wild fecal matter that the Mushrooms tended to grow in.)

"A fascinating history you people have." Olaf said sarcastically as he retrieved a knife from his boot, tossing it towards her "Now make them into a stew."

"What?" Eloise said, staring at the long, sharp blade as though she didn't know it's purpose.

"Cook them. Into food. For us to eat." he repeated slowly as if speaking to a child.

Eloise was taken back. She'd never cooked before in her life. Now she was expected to skin and prepare two animal carcasses? And cook them over an open flame? She looked at him like he'd asked her to jump in the air and stay afloat.

"There's a pot in the back of the carriage. Set it up and get cooking."

"I don't know how!" She said, as if that should have been obvious to anyone with half a brain, which was about what she pegged Olaf as having.

Olaf sighed in frustration and picked his knife up from the pile along with the two Hares. He took them to where he'd been sitting and began skinning them, even the sight of which Eloise found distasteful.

"Out of curiosity, do they teach the women anything down here? You can't cook, can't drive a carriage, you looked at that knife like you'd never seen a weapon before in your life and, as you said earlier, you've never been with a man."

Eloise was feeling very small and weak until he'd said the last part.

"Of course I haven't. I'm a Princess. I was to be married to the next King. Who would want a Queen of spoiled virtue?" Eloise asked, glad to be turning the tables slightly. In her eyes, only the least civil of people could not instantly recognize this.

"Who would want any woman who didn't know her way around the bedroom?" Olaf asked, just as amazed as she'd been. "Explains your Men a bit, I suppose."

Eloise fumed some more. Olaf just continued speaking of his people as he prepared the animals.

"We men are meant to be out hunting and fighting and sailing and plundering. So our women must not be helpless waifs. They need to be able to cook and mend a broken roof and work a plow and forge our blades and rear our children. They have to know how to please us when we come home with spoils and defend the town when we're gone."

"Your wife must be a very fine creature indeed." Eloise said with a shake of her head, trying to picture the woman unlucky enough to be Olaf's fur covered bride.

"Hah!" Olaf laughed as he finished with one animal and moved to the next "A War Chief doesn't have a wife."

"So...."

Olaf continued to explain.

"Each Village has a first woman. The strongest and smartest and most able. When I'm in that Village, I'm in her house and her bed." Olaf said fondly "Although technically it's my house and my bed. Technically all of the houses are mine, I suppose."

Olaf paused, as if he'd never really considered this before. Eloise tried to stomach her distaste for the arrangement and probed. She'd always figured diplomacy would be part of her life and learning about other nation's and their customs was part of it, she supposed.

"So how many First Women are there?" She asked

"How many Villages? 70 or 80. Something like that." Olaf said, unsure himself

"So how many children do you have?"

Olaf grimaced as though he'd never really considered this question either.

"Twice that many?" He guessed "I don't really keep track."

This too seemed monstrous to Eloise. To have hundreds of children and not even know them? But she pressed ahead.

"And how do you choose who your first woman is?"

"I don't. They do. Whoever is first woman can be challenged by any woman provided neither of them are with child. If she can best her physically then someone comes to get the War Chief and I come to the Village and, after spending the night with the challenger and provided I'm satisfied with her in other areas, she is the new one. She moves into my house, she raises my children."

"What happens to the old first woman?" Eloise asked, now concerned for hundreds of women she'd never met.

"Does whatever her challenger did. Challenger farmed, she farms. Challenger made steel, she makes steel."

"That sounds horrible. Your women sound beastly"

"Now you know why the Ascibians were unlucky when came across one of our war parties, unluckier still if they came across a village." Olaf smirked

The whole thing sounded barbaric to Eloise. Worse yet, it was where she was going to be living for the foreseeable future. Olaf was right. She didn't know how to do any of those things. She'd be....well, she didn't know what she'd be. Useless. She looked at Olaf and ducked her head up, feeling very tired and very alone but determined. Confident.

"Stop." She said, causing Olaf to pause from his skinning and look back at her.

"Why?"

"You're going to have to teach me, right? To skin and fix roofs and make plows and everything if I'm going to be of any use to my new village"

Just saying that made Eloise feel awful but if she was going to be joining their culture she was as determined to be as positive a member of her new society as she'd been to be a good Queen and Wife. Olaf considered this a second before nodding.

"So what first? Fighting? Roofing?" Olaf asked

Eloise shook her head. She'd start small.

"Might as well teach me to skin and cook a small rabbit." She sighed, rolling up her sleeves.

"You're in luck. I'm the best Skinner ever. Best Cook ever too."

That night went reasonably well for her first night under Olaf's tutelage. He did a good job of teaching her the finer points of using the knife to skin, gut and bone the rabbit and then setting up the pot. There wasn't much to the cooking. There wasn't any fine spices or complicated methods to use. But Eloise was a fast learner and a hard worker and by the end of the night she'd cooked the rabbit and the other ingredients into a simple but palatable meal for the two of them. Olaf had simply shrugged. He was only impressed that a woman from the South was so eager and willing to attempt to learn his ways. The results were adequate at best. Eloise, though, had gone to sleep with her arms aching and her face dirty and smeared with animal blood but she felt accomplished. Like she'd really done something.

She was intent to drift off to a peaceful slap but the sound of slapping of flesh had started beside her. She'd rolled over and looked at Olaf and saw his massive fist wrapped around an even more massive penis, stroking it quickly. Eloise had never seen one before, only had them described to her by Marietta. But Olaf's looked, despite his massive frame, over sized even for him. Thick as one of her arms and bloated at the top. It looked like it belonged on a horse instead of a man.

"What are you doing?" Eloise asked, bolting upright and moving away from him

"Why? You want to learn this part too?" He asked, vaguely hopeful

"No. And never. I want to contribute when I get to the North, not be one of your women." Eloise said, noting with some dismay that he was not stopping his stroking.

"You won't do it, so I have to." Olaf shrugged. "Been a long time since I saw one of my villages, been with one of my women."

Eloise rolled over so that at the very least her back was to him.

"God, that thing is grotesque." she exclaimed, trying to ignore the sound of his hand.

"War Chief." he said calmly "Biggest cock ever."

(RCH: Olaf's claims about his particular greatness remain something of a mystery. Whether he really was widely acknowledged to be historically accomplished, and sized, as he claimed it has never been verified due to the oral, rather than written tradition of Nilfenhem and our general lack of familiarity with their culture. During the course of my research for this book I travelled by ship to the nearest Nilfenhem village and spoke with their village elder. I enquired as to where the Nilfenhem's historical records on such matters were and was informed by the Elder that he had the historical records right there and I was welcome to study it for as long as I wanted. He said this, however, while grabbing a hold of something that, while impressive, was decidedly not what I had come to see and so the mystery continues.)

The next few days of the trip were all about negotiating the mountain pass. Despite this, Eloise's education had continued. She'd driven the carriage, made a fire and sewn the small, prepared rabbit hides into her dress so as to keep her warmer for the journey. When she'd gotten comfortable driving, their trip had progressed faster, as Olaf now could sleep some nights as Eloise drove. While making for faster travel, this did mean that Eloise did occasionally have to listen to his masturbation while on the road, something that she only would dwell upon during the brief moments that controlling the carriage through the mountains was not difficult enough to command her full attention.

They were stopped several times by guards. Twice along the way and again at the very end of the passage when Calandria's Mountain wall gave way to the Ascibian Empire's endless lowlands and farms. The Ascibian's were no more cautious or clever than any of the other guards, however, and their especial distaste for Olaf's people seemed to work in the carriage's favour. Their guards were clearly resentful that the Nilfen had beaten their army and yet won the right to still trade by land with the Calandrians and so they were more inclined to be waved ahead. Eloise, now looking wearier and stronger and dirtier, was receiving even fewer looks of enquiry. Nobody, it seemed to her, could even entertain the notion that the filthy, road weary girl could possibly have been a beautiful Princess.

Inside the empire, their journey began it's longest stretch. While leaving Calandria had taken just over a week, the Empire was vast and the trip through it would take many, many weeks. While this meant a long and weary stretch, it also meant there was more opportunities for Eloise to learn more of what her future life would be like. Olaf seemed an eager teacher and, despite it adding time to their trip, they stopped every day. Every day seemingly had a new lesson or a refinement on the one before. He'd even spent money at the one small town they'd passed through on spices and supplies to advance her study. At one stop near a river she'd made the fire, caught fish, boned and filleted two for their dinner and then cooked it, spicing it as per Olaf's instructions before salt preserving the rest. The next stop had required repairs to the carriage which Eloise performed under Olaf's watchful eye. All of her considerable intelligence and drive were applied to every task and she seemingly had no need to ever be told anything twice. Once he taught her, it was instructed to memory and could be repeated by her on command. Some lessons, however, were harder than others.

"Ooof" Eloise exclaimed as she fell to the ground in pain. Olaf's hand had cracked into her face as she charged him in an attack. He'd sidestepped her easily and sent her sprawling.

"You are slow and clumsy and you look as though you have absolutely no intentions whatsoever of actually hitting me." He said. His tone wasn't cruel, just blunt. Eloise wiped the dirt off of her face and was on her feet, ready to try again. They'd found a particularly good spot for their camp this day, a large clearing next to a small lake, and had decided to take some time to really pursue Eloise's combat education.

"It's not really fair, is it? You're the war chief. Best fighter ever, right?" Eloise said, circling him slowly "So I don't really need to learn how to fight you."

"If the way I fought you was the way I actually fought, I wouldn't have made it past the first challenger to my title." He said dismissively.

Eloise attacked, thinking she'd found a weak spot. She feigned a punch to the throat before spinning around, hoping to catch him with an elbow to the stomach. Olaf had not been even momentarily convinced by her first movement and blocked the elbow easily. Now, with her back to him and vulnerable, he raised a boot to her backside and pushed, knocking her to the ground again. Eloise cried out as she felt her knee scrape against a rock, tearing some of the skin. She held herself on the ground for a second before getting up, beginning the attempt again. Olaf shook his head.

"You're hurt." He said, pointing to her bloody knee.

"I'll survive, keep going." She encouraged harshly

"We've been at this for hours." He said, rolling his eyes to the sky. "I'm hungry."

"I'll cook your damn food in a while. Keep your guard up." She said angrily, again looking at his movements, trying to see a weakness. She charged forward. Olaf sidestepped a kick, then a punch, then stepped back from a knee. Even as he moved away from her attacks easily, he admired her form. He'd shown her only a time or two how to correctly throw these attacks and now she threw them near flawlessly on every pass. She combined them well too, with creativity and unpredictability. He had to admit, if she didn't look like a soft, Southern girl, he'd have taken her for a decent woman of his people

He did tire of dodging her attacks though and decided to make an attempt to put a stop to this farce. He stood still as she lashed out with her fist, striking him in the stomach. He respected the attempt and even the force, even if he only gave the briefest of notices that she'd connected.

"There, you hit me. I'm vanquished. We're done now." He stated as fact, walking towards the carriage

Eloise stepped back, looking up at him with absolutely no doubt that she knew what he'd done.

"You let me."

"I did." Olaf nodded "But that's an important lesson of warfare. Sometimes you can win simply by being so annoying for so long that the other side gets tired and hungry and gives up."

"But I didn't really hit you." She maintained

"No. And you're not going to unless I let you." Olaf said, grabbing a blanket from the carriage. "You need to try to see your progress in ways other than the impossible."

Eloise fumed. Even after all the progress she'd made, tangible progress, that seemed like a challenging task. Still, she did her best to accept it and went back to the body of the boar that Olaf had killed that day. Even though Eloise hadn't hunted the little thing, she did feel as though it was another sign of her accomplishment. She'd carved the spear, carried the carcass back to camp, hung and smoked the meat and begun drying the hide.

She grabbed a chunk of the cooked meat and simply taken a bite, giving manners no mind. Enjoying the flavour of the crisp, smoked meat as she felt it on her tongue. Olaf had done the same. They ate their fill in relative silence, both exhausted from the day's training. When Olaf was finished, he'd simply rolled over on his side and done to sleep despite the sun being up. Eloise, however, wanted to take the opportunity to do something she'd not done since the start of her jersey.

She grabbed some of her own things from the carriage and walked down to the edge of the lake. She lifted her ragged and torn dress over her head and walked, naked as the day she was born, into the cool still waters of the tranquil lake. The weeks worth of grime and dirt on her body felt heavy and awful as it left her body, reminding her of the fact that it had been there in the first place. She used to bathe daily, attended on by servants and never spent a day where she wasn't dressed and perfumed with the finest fragrances and material that all the ships in the world brought into her home . Now, the small bar of locally made soap she'd gotten in town seemed like the most decadent of luxuries. She inhaled deeply of it. It smelled of nothing in particular but even that was a very welcome change from the scent of sweat, animal blood and dirt that seemed to follow her wherever she went. With the soap and the small hunting knife she now carried, Eloise managed to maintain a grooming standard that, while she never would never have found acceptable in Calandria, now at least felt made her feel a bit more at ease.

She relaxed in the water a while. Feeling the water touch every inch of her. The jagged rocks and sand under her feet not beginning to intrude on the feeling of the water caressing her aching muscles, soothe every cut and scrape she'd accumulated. She held her nose for a second and dunked her head beneath the water as well, letting her dry, greasy hair at least get some sort of wash. As she stood up, however, Eloise saw that she had streaks of black running down her chest and over her jutting breasts. She put a hand to her head and came away with more black. The dye. The dye that had gone on so easily now rinsed just as easily. Eloise had practically forgotten it. She'd grown so accustomed to being Sonia that she'd erased the idea that she'd forgotten entire aspects of who Eloise had been. The blonde delicate princess had become a hardened, fearless raven-haired huntress. The black dye, which she quickly washed from her hair and from her body, reminded her of that. Of the ways she'd changed but also the ways she hadn't. The thought made Eloise frown and caused her to cut her bathing short. Feeling clean and cooled by the experience, she walked back to the camp completely naked, forgoing modesty so as to not have to dress in her dirty garments. She walked up to the sleeping Olaf and gave him a swift kick in the back.

"Hmmmm?" He said, roused from his sleep only slightly. "What is it?"

"I want to have sex with you." She stated bluntly. It was true. She wasn't attracted to him. Far from it. But he'd told her of what men would require of her in her new home and this was the one area of life they hadn't touched on in their weeks together. Olaf did not seem particularly surprised by the news although it did jolt him from his slumber. He stared up at her naked, dripping body and, rather than betray any degree of attraction on his own part, just looked mildly surprised at the change in her appearance.

"Your hair is blonde." He said, simply stating the fact.

"It is. Now get it out." Eloise motioned to his pants

"Can I at least ask why you've taken such a shine to me all of a sudden?" Olaf asked although his removing of his cloak clearly indicated he was amenable to her request.

"Nothing to do with you." Eloise said as she stood a little closer to the crackling fire, letting the heat dry her dripping skin. "But I may want a man someday. May want children. If I need to know what I'm doing for a family in your backwards nation I need to learn it all. No half-measures."

Olaf could feel his cock harden. Ordinarily he had little taste for soft Coastal girls, he'd been raised to appreciate the stronger, sterner women of his land. But Eloise was extraordinarily beautiful. Even after her hard journey she still had maintained her delicate femininity. Her high, full breasts capped with light peach-coloured nipples, fully hardened by some combination of the desire for sex and the dip in the cold water of the lake. Her slender form was unusual to him but her wide hips indicated she may indeed be suitable to bear the children of his people and the golden curls between her legs held their own unique appeal to Olaf. He undid his tunic as well, finally.

His torso was as she'd expected it. Muscled, with hair as dark as on his head, and scarred. It was not at all the body of the man she'd envisioned herself doing this with. It was one forged by hard, physical work and battle.

"And you've never done this before?" Olaf asked as he began to tug at the leather breeches he wore.

"Never." Eloise nodded, her mouth feeling dry and her body warm. Marietta had long since told her of what would actually transpire when she engaged in the act but she'd kept herself pure as was her duty. "But I'd never gutted and skinned small animals before I met you either and I figure I've grown accustomed enough to the unpleasantness and mess of your womenfolk's duties to do this too."

Olaf laughed. She really did sound like she hadn't been with a man. This gave him no pause, however, as he removed his leathers. He'd made many a girl a woman in his days. He finally removed his clothing, letting his mammoth cock come into full view.

"This....this was a mistake. This will not work." Eloise shook her head as she finally saw his massive organ in the light of day. It was an immense thing. Not smooth and soft as she'd hoped it might appear but dark and cragged, with heavy veins, with two similarly oversized testicles below it. "That will not fit inside me."

Olaf chuckled. He'd bedded Calandrian women before. One's who were shorter and slimmer than the Princess. They all said something similar when they saw him for the first time.

"It will." Olaf stated, patting beside him on the blanket. "We just need to get you ready first. Come here and we'll begin."

Eloise nodded, trusting his instruction. She felt like a small child again, seeing Olaf before her father. He seemed just as giant and imposing as he had then, more so because of the thing between his legs, and she was just as terrified of him as she'd been then. But she did as instructed, sitting on the blanket beside him. Her body was mainly dry as she lay on the somewhat harsh material she'd slept beneath for these last few days and though on a soft patch of grass, the hard ground beneath her was still what she felt as she sat. This was a far cry from the plush bed and fine silk coverings she'd assumed would mark this occasion. Olaf looked at her fiercely, his grey eyes seeming to suck her into him, making her stop thinking of the oddity of the situation and as he leaned in towards her, Eloise felt her reservations fall away some.

He did not kiss her lips, as Eloise had expected, but rather her neck. His beard wiry and rough as he did. She craned her head to the side though, allowing him a better access to it. He kissed for a while before his kisses became bites. Soft at first but then harder. Her neck and her ear and her shoulder. Eloise simply assumed it was the way the Nilfen mated. Eloise had been expecting tender kisses but she had to admit the sensation was not unpleasant. It felt primal and raw. As though she were being claimed by right of dominance. His large hands made her breasts feel small as he cupped them, he was clearly taking some especial delight in the feeling of the soft flesh and firm nipples in his hands. He tweaked the buds slightly as his mouth travelled down from her collarbone to them. He was only somewhat gentler with them than he'd been her neck. He sucked them into his mouth. First one, then the other and then, pushing them together, seemingly trying to fit both at once.

After she'd seen him as a girl, Eloise had had nightmares of him. Of him having her for breakfast. The thought came to mind as he feasted on her breasts. It was an apt description. He bit gently and left his saliva on her nipples as if he were having her as a meal. Rather than be terrified, Eloise was exhilarated. The growing heat and wetness between her thighs now at a fevered pitch she'd never experienced before. Eloise moaned, cradling his head to her breasts as she felt herself almost unconsciously spread her legs. She was glad now that she'd made this decision. She wanted this. Wanted him. He kept moving his head down, past her stomach. his hands gripping her thighs and spreading them apart wider. Eloise knew what he was doing, Marietta had told her of this too. She hadn't assumed that such perversions would be in her own future but perhaps this is what he'd meant by getting her ready.

He leaned forward and gingerly licked at the folds of her sex, tasting her wetness. This brought a moan of appreciation from the Princess. Marietta had described the act as pleasurable, so pleasurable that the two of them should try it together, but Eloise had thought that was simply an appetite unique to her friend. Now, as she felt his large, rough tongue run the length of her, Eloise again regretted that she'd not been as bold with Mari. Not that she wasn't enjoying herself, as Olaf's tongue ran over the bud of her clitoris, she moaned again and doubted Marietta could possibly have known how to do what he was doing. He flicked at it for a while, causing Eloise to throw her head back in pleasure and again attempt to pull his head closer to her. Olaf began licking it quickly, sharply and expertly. Causing a series of increasing moans and gasps from Eloise's soft, barely parted mouth. She tried to decide between closing her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure, and keeping them open and watching the strange act and so she varied between the two. Opening them in attempt to see just how he was bringing her such pleasure but closing them when that pleasure became too much to take. She could feel something building inside her, another of the things her Lady in Waiting had described, as he maintained his frenzied pace. She felt as though she was being devoured as he'd slip his tongue inside her and lick her deeply before returning to his ministrations at that tremendous and long neglected part of her anatomy that he was so expertly administering to. She felt her whole body heating up, her muscles stiffen. She knew the act was coming to a climax.

"Something...oh...something's so close..." Eloise moaned as he continued. She didn't know what it was but she remembered disbelieving Marietta's descriptions of how exhilarating it was. She would never doubt Mari again. It was so close and he was going to give her her first.....

But no. He'd stopped. Eloise opened her eyes and looked down at him, angrily.

"Why have you stopped?" She demanded. Olaf was wiped his mouth with his hand before answering.

"You seemed ready." He said frankly as he got back to his knees.

"But....that was phenomenal. I want to do more of it."

"You wanted to learn the ways of the Nilfen." Olaf said "I only did that you get you ready. Rest assured, Girl, that is not something that you'll receive much of up North."

Eloise fumed. She hated the place again.

"Unless you become one of the Wyrd women, of course." Olaf continued as he put his hands beneath her and brought her up, lifting her effortlessly with his hands on her back so that she was being held aloft over his penis. "But they can teach you their ways themselves."

Eloise moaned in frustration but only because the heat was still there. She hoped the next bit would be nearly as satisfying. Olaf brought her down onto him, biting her shoulder again as she felt her virtue give way to him. She grunted in pain as he did, the large cock pressing into her slowly but strongly, parting her as he entered. Eloise felt impossibly full. The sensation at once pleasurable and painful. She had no real words to describe it. She felt like she wanted to go down further, take more, take this act to it's conclusion but Olaf's strong hands controlled their pace. He kept sinking, feeding his length into her. She understood why the previous act had been necessary. Even with the increased amount of her wetness it was still stretching her impossibly tight and would not have been possible if he'd not coaxed that eagerness out of her. Every time he stopped because of her tightness Eloise had assumed he'd filled her with all of what he had but, after a moment or two of adjustment, he'd push deeper. He seemed endless. In fact, she ended before he did and she grunted in pain as she felt the blunt, thick head of his cock nudge against her limits. He pulled back slightly and rested.

"That's it then." Olaf grunted as he looked down, a good third of his cock still not inside her. Still, that was an impressive amount for even a Nilfen woman. Eloise sighed as she tried getting used to the size of him. He was so large she felt as though she couldn't possibly but, as she stayed still, she felt herself almost shape to his size. It began to feel good. A very different kind of good than his mouth and lips had made her feel but it was unmistakable. When he began withdrawing himself slightly and she felt his every vein and ridge begin to rub against her on exit, Eloise had to admit it may have even been a better kind of good. As soon as he'd withdrawn most of what he'd put into her he thrust forward for the first time. "Oh." Eloise said, feeling as though the thrust inside of her had knocked the wind from her. She felt herself squeeze around him involuntarily as he began feeding her long, steady strokes of his cock. Slow enough so as not to pain her but hard enough to give her more of that delicious, unbearable friction. She didn't know if she could take the pleasure it was so intense.

"Please...please..." She choked out. She'd planned to tell him to stop, go slower, but as she felt his rhythm increase and the heat inside her build again, any such notions were knocked from her and a different request came to her lips "More...harder."

Olaf complied, surprised at the request. His pace increased as he felt his passage ease a little on every thrust, he fucked her harder now. Still with long, even strokes and still stopping just short of her limits. Eloise began moaning uncontrollably, her hands wrapped around Olaf's neck. She had no words, could not have described the sensation, and so she simply gasped and moaned and occasionally entreated him to go harder. She could feel that same heat building but from inside now and spreading outward. She was getting to where she'd been before, she just prayed to all the gods she knew he wouldn't stop this time.

She needn't have worried. He kept thrusting as that something finally came. Her mind going white and her mouth going dry as she screamed so loud that the day's hunting would be ruined by the animals it would scare away. She was lost in the delirious, spasming pleasure. Unsteady waves emanating in every direction from inside her, curling her toes and causing her to dig her fingers into the skin of the man who was doing this to her. The soft, blonde princess riding her first orgasm to it's conclusion with little active thought, simply animal instinct. She quivered and shook and moaned and kept begging for even more. Again he delivered, another earth shattering climax ripped from her body, wringing it of every ounce of composure she had. His thrusting never varying even as she tightened considerably around him. Olaf's expression was one of his own pleasure. Both due to his own friction and the fact that the Princess was a delicious sight when enraptured. As Eloise's second climax still shook her, Olaf's began. His cock discharging inside her with a few days of accumulated wait. A considerable volume of his hot seed filled her and she climaxed again, a smaller, sharper explosion that made her whimper such a soft whimper it sounded as though it was the last sound she had left inside her. As Olaf's climax finished he finally lay her back down onto the scratchy blanket. Eloise was barely conscious and yet had never felt so alive. As though there had been some great other aspect to life going on behind curtains all her life that she was now privy to. Like she had a new sense. She lay on the blanket as he rolled off her, withdrawing his cock one last and complete time, and looked up at the wide blue sky.

"Now, that was a little more soft and tender than you'd get from most Nilfenmen." Olaf said after a few seconds of his own recovery. Eloise, whose brain was returning to her in bits and pieces, could not wrap her head around the concept. That had been hard and intense and almost brutal in it's savagery by her feeling.

"How so?" She asked, her words intended to be cautious and disbelieving but simply coming out as if she'd just been woken.

"Well, ordinarily an experienced woman wouldn't have simply taken it. There's more of a give and take, back and forth. He'll be on you, giving you what he can and, if one of our women wants it harder or faster, she doesn't ask. She either chides him into giving it to her or wrestles back, pinning him and making the act faster and harder." Olaf's voice sounded just the same as it had when he'd explained to her how to fish or cook and gave no indication that what he'd just done had been any more pleasurable or exhausting than those things had been.

"Next time." Eloise managed to get out.

"Would you like to go again now?" Olaf asked, a little surprised but seemingly up for the task. Eloise would have shouted her answer if she could but she didn't have it in her.

"No." She simply sighed. She was done for the day. She felt sleep coming on.

"Well, know that you have much to learn on that subject."

Eloise just nodded. They'd train every day. She'd insist on it.

(RCH: Sure to be one of the more talked about chapters of this work, Eloise's deflowering at the hands of the War Chief, though embarrassing to some members of the nobility, is not in any serious dispute. Confirmation of the lovemaking techniques of the Nilfenmen is another matter and was another subject I discussed with the Nilfen Village Elder on my trip. I enquired about the claims concerning the size, skill and relative virility of their men and he confirmed the account relayed here to me explicitly, leaving no doubt in my mind as to the veracity of the account presented . When asked about the Nilfenmen's reluctance to engage their women in cunnilingus his response was "Up to everyone I suppose. Not really spoken of. Now roll over, small one, I think you'll enjoy it even more when I confirm our virility from behind this time.")

~Chapter Seven, in which the last of the guards are dealt with~

As Princess Eloise had planned, such sexual congress became a daily part of her and Olaf's trip. While her other lessons would continue as well, every night they stopped was punctuated by another bout of passionate sex. Each time seemingly more intense and pleasurable than before. Olaf had done it to her from behind, while she was lifted aloft in his arms as he stood, while she was bent over the back of the carriage and in various other positions. Eloise insisted on learning them all. She was becoming quite proficient at it. She was too small to wrestle Olaf but when she did find herself on top of him she had no trouble directing the speed and intensity of their coupling. A time or two she even managed to wrest his climax from him before she found her own, a change of pace that while it was momentarily frustrating she saw as a great victory over him. He'd exerted such a power over her before, now she felt as though she had a part of that as well. Her frustration may have been greater, however, if their coupling had not always started again a few minutes later with different results.

While on the road Eloise tried to keep her mind off of her new discovery but she couldn't help dwelling on it at times. When she'd sit up front with Olaf she'd invariably look to him and think of some fresh bout they'd had and would ask him if they couldn't stop for a few minutes and go into the back of the carriage. Olaf would invariably agree. He'd even suggested it a time or two himself. Their journey was becoming delayed, however, and their frequent stops for lessons and such had added nearly a week onto their travel time. So it was that they had been pushing on for some time now and he'd resisted her recent advances. To a point. He'd informed her that there was something she could do while he was driving the carriage and explained in detail. She'd resisted only for a moment, it having been something Marietta had also described to her and she could still remember promising herself she'd never engage in no matter how her husband might beg. But she relented quickly. Which is how they came to be on this particular stretch of road, driving along slowly, with Olaf's thick cock wedged halfway down Eloise's throat.

She'd taken to it rather quickly, once she'd managed to get her mouth wide enough to take the thing and found the taste was not as repellent as she might imagine. She was bobbing on it quickly, wetly, her fist working the part too wide and much for her to get into her mouth as her other hand caressed and lightly squeezed the large heavy balls that were below it.

"Unngh, I don't believe you. You've done this before." Olaf moaned, expertly navigating even as Eloise sucked him like a skilled courtesan. She didn't stop to answer. It wasn't true, she hadn't. But she took to this like she'd taken to everything he taught her. Olaf saw that a hard turn was coming. He knew it well. A final turn North before the Ascibian border town of Kirkley and then only two days until they'd be across the border. He guided the cart on the proper turn, feeling very ready to burst into the Princesses mouth, and cursed loudly. Up ahead in the distance was another block in the road and two guards.

"Off me, off me." Olaf tapped her shoulder. Eloise complied, stopping her ministrations and removing the meaty prick from her mouth with a small popping noise. She sat upright as she saw the same thing Olaf did and attempted to straighten her now Black hair. Olaf shoved his cock back into his breeches as he continued to curse.

"Blast." He said "And I was so close to being there."

"Gods, you poor thing. I wonder what that must be like." She said dismissively, referencing their first time. "Frustrating I bet."

"Pipe down." Olaf chided as they approached. There were two guards on either side of the road but, unlike all the others they'd seen, these looked nothing like professional soldiers. One seemed far too skinny to be a soldier and held his weapon as if it might come to life and bite him. The other was heavier, with a paunch at his midsection and spectacles. The skinnier of the two was the one who approached them, nervously and doing his best to appear imposing.

"Halt in the name of the Ascibian empire, mightiest nation in the land and under the rule of the powerful Atonides the...."

"Again with that. You can just say halt, you know" the heavier one said as he shook his head in annoyance

"The Ascibian Army's guidelines strictly say that when stopping a passenger before inspection that the entire warning must be made for any such searches to be considered just and true." the skinny one countered, clearly having entrusted the rule to memory. The heavier one just looked at him contemptuously.

"The day I actually agree to be in the Ascibian Empire's Army is the day that I use that guidebook for anything other than wiping my bottom clean."

"Agree nothing." the skinny one said before again sounding as if he were reciting "When war causes the Emperor's Regulars to be deployed to the valiant effort, citizens may be conscripted to serve in reserve units, filling such non-essential...."

"Non-essential is right. I didn't even know the Empire stretched this far North." The heavy one said as he rubbed his hands together in the cool air. "I was a student in the capital, you know. Not one of the king's empty-headed volunteers"

"And it's exactly that kind of disrespect for the selfless men who fight to protect..."

"Oh stow it. What's valiant about warring on the Hildok tribes to the south? How did attempting to conquer the Northerners protect us?"

"The Nilfen were beasts! Men who ate their enemies raw and savage their own daughters. Their people deserved to learn our ways and..."

"You're just flat out quoting the bulletins the Town Criers read! You know they're written by the part of the government that's actually called the Department of Propaganda, don't you? The Nilfen, differing culture though they may have, were wildly slandered and grossly underestimated. Fighting them left us with massive debts, a weakened army and nothing to show for the effort"

"Oh and I'm sure that your school books are..."

Olaf and Eloise simply looked at the two, puzzled. They'd been stopped and then largely ignored as they bickered.

"We'd like to be on our way, please." Olaf said, tiredly

The two guards finally turned to the carriage, seeing that the occupants appeared to be of the Nilfen. The skinny one almost visibly choked back a gulp.

"N-not so fast. We've been instructed to search any carriages passing through and interrogate their passengers. Thoroughly." he said, nervously

"Oh, for the love of." the heavy one interrupted "I'm Private Filgrove and this is PFC Milgan."

"Why are you still introducing yourself to the detainees?" Milgan asked angrily. Filgrove turned from Olaf to his compatriot briefly

"Because my mother taught me to do so when meeting new people." Filgrove explained wearily before turning back to Olaf "You look like Northerners, you Northerners?"

"We are." Olaf nodded, looking oddly at the two guards still.

"Where you coming from?"

"Calandria."

"A-ha! They admitted it!" Milgan exclaimed excitedly, tightening his grip on his sword.

"Admitted what?" Filgrove rolled his eyes "We have carriages coming through here every day from Calandria. That's why this road exists."

"But look, it's a girl. It could be...her" The skinny guard said as he pointed his sword in the direction of Eloise. "We have to ascertain beyond a reasonable doubt that it's not...her as per our orders."

"You're right!" Filgrove said, mimicking Milgan's excitement and drawing his own sword and pointing it at Eloise as well. "Are you the escaped Princess Eloise of Calandria?"

Eloise felt her heart quicken. Not so much because of the guards or their swords but because it meant news had gotten out of her flight from her homeland. If these two knew, any soldier on the continent knew. She remained passive as she began to recite her story.

"No, my name is So...."

"You're not?" Filgrove said in mock surprise, sheathing his sword. "You're just a Northern girl on the road with her father?"

Eloise nodded at their cover simply being assumed.

"I believe my doubts have all been reasoned away," Filgrove continued "You, Mil?"

"You weren't supposed to tell them that the Princess is who we're looking for!" Milgan chided, without taking his eyes off of that very same girl. Filgrove ignored him.

"Anything in your carriage that violates the peace accord between the Empire and your people?" He asked "Or hiding anyone?"

"No," Olaf shook his head

"Mind if that one takes a look to confirm?" Filgrove motioned to his partner.

"Help yourself." Olaf shrugged

Milgan scurried back behind them and began inspecting the carriage. Filgrove looked apologetically at Eloise and then Olaf.

"I'm sorry about this, really. You can't imagine how little I want to be here," he said ruefully "Trust me, if I could choose a different king, I would. Although his sons aren't much better, I'm afraid."

"Those things about Prince Francis are rumours!" Milgan's voice came from the carriage. Filgrove ignored it.

"With any luck this Princess escaping business will bring some sense around here." Filgrove said hopefully

"Kirkley is just nearby, right?" Olaf said, changing the subject "They have an inn and tavern, right?"

"A couple." Filgrove nodded "There's the Derbyshire arms, the Hood and Fox...."

"Any of them serve food? Good, hot food? And have anything decent to drink?"

"That'd be the Hood and Fox, little west of the Barracks," he said almost eagerly "Think they're doing mutton tonight. They do it nice, all rubbed with herbs and roasted. Seen a few of you Northern types there too so they'll probably have something to hold you over drink wise."

Olaf nodded. The plan had been to stop for the night and then make the final push. The food and drink definitely made him want to stop. Filgrove simply shook his head and looked skeptically at Olaf, then Eloise.

"You lot don't really sleep with your daughters, do you?" he asked cautiously

"We don't," Olaf said definitively. "But reputations start."

Filgrove nodded, relieved,

"You know what we Ascibians used to be known for? Before we started all this madness? The arts. We were painters and sculptors and playwrights." He said to nobody in particular. "That's where I should be. In the capital. Starting a theatre company. Writing plays."

Milgan came back from the carriage just in time to hear this

"What would you write a play about? Some bawdy comedy? Or one of those neat ones where they use all the cow's blood in the battle scenes?" Milgan asked, genuinely interested. Filgrove shook his head.

"I was thinking something smaller. Just two people. Something about us." Filgrove said with some consideration

"About us? Being guards? And fighting bandits?" Milgan said, sounding interested

"No, about this. About being here, against our will. And waiting for a carriage, with a princess inside, that might never come."

"Sounds boring." Milgan said, disappointed

"But it's a metaphor, right?" Filgrove shook his head to argue "About how all of us are used. How we soldiers allow ourselves to have our lives interrupted or even ended to suit the whims of Nobles we'll never meet for causes they never really explain. I mean, I don't know this Princess. Her escape means nothing to me. But I get conscripted because they need more guards on these roads because she's gone. Does she have a good reason for escaping? Maybe. Is it bad for the Empire? Maybe. But the empire doesn't give a damn about me, so what do I care? So the two soldiers would represent every soldier. One, the naive patriot and the other the cynical and artistic one. So, in a larger sense, it would also represent the struggle for our national identity."

"May we leave?" Olaf said, somewhat annoyed now at their bickering. Filgrove nodded and stood off the side. Milgan did the same on the other end of the road. Olaf gave the horse a push and they started off slowly.

"I don't know," Milgan said, scratching his chin as the carriage drove off "What would happen when they found the princess?"

"They wouldn't. She'd never come. Maybe she'd never actually escaped." Filgrove kept arguing for his idea "It would be about the futility of it all."

"So then where's the action?"

Filgrove's response to this was not heard by Eloise as, by then, the carriage was well out of hearing distance. She did, however, think about what he'd said about her actions. How she hadn't considered what her actions would do to people she'd never met. Also, she thought that the play Filgrove was describing did sound boring and somewhat pretentious.

(RCH: As one might suspect, the Private Filgrove described here is, in fact, noted Ascibian actor and playwright Fenmore Filgrove. This story was included at my ministry's request, after it had been confirmed, with the belief that the common folk love hearing about the early lives of celebrities. Theatre enthusiasts may even see the early seeds of Filgrove's most celebrated work in this chapter. Standing on the Side of the Road with an Idiot: A Bawdy Comedy, continues to be a popular and beloved production both in Ascibia, Calandria and in many other lands.)

~Chapter Eight, in which insults are traded~

Olaf and Eloise made their way to the Fox and Hood inn with great haste. They both had agreed that the sound of food that did not need to be killed beforehand and a warm room for the night sounded like a welcome and refreshing change of pace. Olaf had been concerned to one degree or another about extending their trip in a town with a garrison but, if the two guards they just passed were any indication, that would be of little concern. Olaf wanted a drink, Eloise wanted a bath. They both wanted to eat.

The Fox and Hound was a large, reasonably well appointed place. Catering to travelling merchants and local soldiers mainly. Olaf had booked a room and Eloise had taken a hot bath as soon as they got there. The hot water had felt divine when she'd sank inside the tub. It was like her dip in the lake had been only multiplied by a thousand. She felt clean. She felt rested. She felt safe. The end of her journey seemed nearby. More than that, she felt like a different person.

She was stronger now. Both in body and in constitution. She'd learned so much in barely 40 days away from home. She could hardly imagine herself as the sheltered girl she'd been. She felt womanly. And not in the weak and subservient manner that women in her home now seemed. She thought of herself as capable and confident. Not based on her birthright but on what she could do. Over the weeks their scratchy blankets had been replaced by a soft stitching of furs she'd made from the animals they'd caught, something that was as empowering as it was as a symbol of her growth as it was a welcome change of pace for her backside and knees when she and Olaf would couple. That change was brought on by her. Her skill. Her craft. So when she ducked her head under the water and felt the dye again leave her hair, Eloise felt transformed. She was still Eloise. But a new Eloise. Not Sonia, not a Northerner, but a Calandrian. As keen and skilled as any member of the Navy. After letting herself soak for nearly two hours, Eloise emerged. Blonde and bright eyed. She groomed and dressed and walked down from the Inn into the Tavern. It was a sparse crowd. A handful of locals and, at one corner table, Olaf sat with a bottle of some sort of spirit. Eloise went to him, feeling his eyes, as well as the eyes of the few other men and the barkeep, on her as she crossed the room. She sat down and smiled up at him, he was still examining her carefully.

"You're blonde again." He stated

"I am." She stated confidently

"You're not worried that someone might see you?" He said, not sounding terribly worried himself

"I'm not." she said confidently. There was a second glass on the table, an empty one, into which Eloise took it upon herself to pour some of the liquor into. She took a small sip of it. It was vicious, sharp stuff. With a taste that nearly made her gag.

"That's our whiskey." Olaf said, smiling as he saw the expression on her face change. "And you may want to get used to it. We don't have your fruity wines and such where we're headed."

"And where are we headed?" Eloise asked, trying to get the taste out of her mouth.

"The nearest village is one of the larger ones, Survind." Olaf explained "I have a large house there. They'll find something for you to do."

Eloise nodded. She was beginning to look forward to being in Nilfenhem. To make something of her own. She didn't know what it would be yet, but she felt as though it could be anything.

"And a First Woman? And Children?"

"No children." Olaf said with a shake "The First Woman is named Vetra. One of the newer ones."

Eloise nodded. There was a part of her disappointed that her time with Olaf was coming to an end. As she looked at him, she had no compunction that she felt any sort of romantic love for him. He was a fine teacher and, she conceded, his boasts as a lover seemed based in fact even without a frame of reference to compare them to. She was not upset that he'd take another woman into his bed but she would miss him if, as he claimed, his life was so nomadic as to not stay in any one village for any considerable length of time and she couldn't travel with him.

"Well," Eloise said as she held up her glass "Onward to Survind it is then."

She pressed the glass to her lips and tilted it back, pouring the remainder of the whiskey into her mouth. It still burned but she swallowed it quickly and without reaction. Olaf looked impressed. Eloise caught that and poured another glass. Soon they'd finished the bottle. And another one. Eloise had never been drunk before. But she was enjoying it. The warmth, the euphoria. If Olaf was as well he gave little sign of it. The tavern began filling and someone broke out some sort of instrument and soon there was music. They enjoyed the evening, Eloise going from drunk to slightly tipsy as she stopped drinking and simply sat and listened to the music for a while. Olaf finished two more bottles of his own and still appeared to be more sober than she was. Soon Eloise began to feel somewhat tired, started thinking of that crisp, clean bed she had waiting for her and got up from the table.

"I'm going to bed." She announced without being asked "But first I should get to the carriage, get some more dye for my hair."

"I'll come with you." Olaf nodded "I should at least have my knife on me."

Eloise agreed and the two made their way through the drinking, dancing crowd into the cool night air. They made their way to the coach house, Eloise walking somewhat faster than Olaf and reaching it ahead of him. She leaned forward to look inside. Just as she caught sight of the gourd, she felt Olaf's hands on her backside, his hand lifting her skirt. Eloise simply smiled and parted her legs. She heard his own pants being tugged down and his familiar, still imposingly thick cock being pressed against her from behind. She gripped the carriage tightly as he thrust inside. She turned to him and looked at him harshly.

"Is that all you have?" She said wickedly as she felt his thick, blood engorged cock begin pumping into her "The drink has made you feeble."

"Pipe down, you foolish Coastal hag." Olaf returned the insult, clearly pleased and thrusting harder "I simply don't want to break your delicate frame."

Eloise stood still, not displaying any sign of outward pleasure, even though she had to bite her lip almost hard enough to draw blood to keep herself from moaning as his massive, heavy tool began pumping in and out of her ready, wet cunt.

"This is pathetic." Eloise said when she'd regained a little composure "Fuck me like you weren't some fey tropical eunuch."

"Perhaps if you weren't so soft and doughy I could. If you were a proper woman of the North I wouldn't have to worry about giving you more than you could handle." Olaf said while grunting, pounding into her hard as she'd requested. Harder than maybe he'd ever taken her by some measure. She enjoyed the sensation. Enjoyed the combative wordplay and sex. She was thrusting herself back at him as well which she'd found to greatly increase her own pleasure.

"You talk...ungh...a great deal and prove little." The Princess replied, hating that she'd let a groan of pleasure escape her lips. "But I suppose that's to be expected from a barbarian."

"You...ungh..." Olaf replied, not grunting out of pleasure he was feeling but mocking her own "Are simply a mare. And mares will always be broken."

"When she finds a rider worth half a copper, perhaps." She said, her breath ragged. She was soaked, he was hard, he was fucking her so well. She tried desperately to deny herself the pleasure she was feeling. Her attempts were not helped when she felt his hand reach around to squeeze at her breast, finding her stiff nipple and pulling it harshly. She found herself enjoying the little tweaks of pain, much like she enjoyed the discomfort of his oversized cock. Olaf had grown to know this and, as she felt his hand slap down on her backside, hard, she smiled to herself. He only did it when he very much wanted her to finish quickly. She knew he was close to his own as well.

"You lumbering oaf. I'm starting to think I was the first woman you bedded." Elouise shouted at him. It was all she could do not to burst.

"I wouldn't throw you to my weakest warrior. Or...ungh...even my stallion" Olaf slapped her ass again. This time harder. This time his breathing was ragged, this time his grunt was of his own pleasure.

Eloise couldn't answer. She'd wanted to win. Wanted to prove she could outlast him this time. But she couldn't. Whether it was the drink or the feeling of confidence or simply the huge, pounding prick in her silky insides, it was too much. That one genuine grunt that escaped his lips would have to be victory enough. She felt herself flood, gush and scream as she came. She felt her body seize up and loosen seemingly at the same time. She kept pushing back, kept fighting. Even through her bliss she kept her combative nature. She wouldn't let him beat her twice. She didn't have to worry. Olaf came, his hand gripping her hair and yanking her back, his immense cock filling her with the build up of this sex and the interrupted ministrations from earlier in the day. He filled her with a force that she had never experienced prior to this night, bellowing loudly as he did.

"You are coming very, very close." Olaf said as the two caught their breath, chuckling as he pulled himself from her. As they stopped, there was a noise from behind them. A loud cheer. Olaf and Eloise both turned to see that something of a crowd had assembled outside the tavern to watch them. Some whistled and clapped appreciatively, some laughed. Eloise felt herself redden slightly, realizing that a large group of women and men had just watched her be fucked roughly from behind. Olaf simply chuckled as he stuffed his cock back into his breeches(to a audible gasp or two from one of the onlooking women) and leaving Eloise spread before the crowd for a second. She reached behind her and tugged her dress back down, feeling somewhat embarrassed but not as mortified as she might have thought she'd been if a large group of drunken townsfolk had just watched her do what she'd just done. She turned to the crowd, received a few whistles and cheers of her own and also walked across the square to the Inn. She tried to keep her head down as she did, not wanting anyone from the crowd to recognize her. It was a useless gesture though. If she'd have kept her head up she'd have spotted two familiar faces.

"You see? I told you the Northerners fuck their own daughters." Milgan said triumphantly, his pint of ale in one hand and the other outstretched to his drinking companion. Filgrove sighed and took a number of coin from his pocket.

"Well it could just be that one in particular. Can't generalize." Filgrove argued weakly as he counted five coins into Milgan's palm. Although after doing so he did stop to think for a second. "Besides, wasn't his daughter a brunette?"

(RCH: Unlike many accounts in this history, Olaf and Eloise's stay at the Hood and Fox is well-known among the general population. The current owners of the establishment even have marked the room the Princess slept in with a small plaque, noting that she slept there on her historic voyage, and it has become something of a tourist destination among those interested in our nation's history. There is no plaque detailing the exploits that took place in the carriage house, although it is a widely told local story, and that part was indeed confirmed by Fenmore Filgrove and Horton Milgan, Member of the Ascibian Parliament, Kirkley-Woodlands. "Rogered her for a solid 15 minutes, indeed." said Milgan via a short letter. Filgrove agreed although, when I explained this history to him he pointed out that, technically speaking, he should not have had to pay the 5 pieces.)

~Chapter Nine, in which destinations are reached~

Olaf and Eloise took off early the next morning. They had caused enough of a stir the night before that they wanted to be on the road as shortly as possible. While nobody had recognized her the previous night, she was still a golden haired Calandrian girl. One smart guard or magistrate hearing the story could lead to their end. And so they were off. There were only a few more days on their trip together and they would make them as quickly as possible. No stops for sleep or food, no stops even for more coupling. This was in part because of their schedule but also, as Olaf pointed out when Eloise had broached the subject, there was little left for him to teach her if she wanted to make a satisfactory wife for one of his men or woman of the village she was soon to call home.

The journey went relatively quickly. On the second day, Eloise was woken by Olaf's voice.

"Wake up, girl." He boomed. Eloise, who'd driven for hours the night before, was roused reluctantly, wiping sleep from her eyes.

"What is it?" She asked, clearly annoyed as she peeked her head from the carriage

"We're in my lands. Crossed a few minutes ago." He said, proudly. Eloise looked around. It looked much like northern Ascibia. Perhaps a little more sparse and there were no farmhouses dotting the landscape. Eloise grunted.

"Next time, only wake me if it's important." She said dismissively as she turned back, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep.

It was less than a day from the border to the village. Eloise was actually somewhat impressed by her new home as she saw it, the carriage on top of a hill providing her with good vantage point to see the place. The large, rushing river they'd been travelling along for the better part of the day opened up into a large bay that the Village was nestled in. There was a dock large enough to house several fairly large trading vessels. There were dozens of seemingly well built houses, a market in the centre of the town, some larger buildings and a large wood post wall surrounding it. It was bustling. There were groups of children playing and women working and the odd man around. As her carriage took her closer Eloise noted that they were, in fact, a large people. Their men were large, though not quite so large as Olaf, and their women large as well. They all looked at least a half foot taller than she was and all seemed to have inviting curves. Even the children were large. Olaf caught note of her gaze.

"Impressed?" He asked. She nodded.

"I am. I pictured something smaller."

"As I said, this is one of the larger villages and the one we do most of our trading from." Olaf said, gesturing to the caravans that were on the outside of the city. There were even a few above them on the road. Their carriage had apparently been anticipated they were waved right to the gates. Standing there was a small group of large men at the gates. There were three of the Nilfen warriors, all large and bearded, covered in furs and one man only a little less large and clean shaven.

When the Carriage finally came to a stop, Eloise could see that the fourth man had the dress and tan of a man of her home nation. He certainly was large for a Calandrian though and had a clearly military look to him. For a brief moment Eloise worried that he may have been a man of her father's, sent to collect her. That perhaps Olaf had betrayed her. But, as Olaf stepped down from the carriage and clasped one of his men in an embrace, the Calandrian had approached her side of the carriage and offered her his hand.

"Princess." He said politely as he helped her down. He was a very handsome man, square jawed and stoic, with brown hair worn short. She couldn't place it but she could have sworn she knew him from somewhere. "I trust your journey went well enough? You're unhurt?"

"I got her here, didn't I?" Olaf said after having greeted his men.

"You're late." the Calandrian admonished him.

"There were delays."

"You were waiting for me?" Eloise asked of him, he turned from Olaf to her and gave a curt smile.

"A few days. No matter, Princess." He said politely "I'm simply glad to see you unharmed."

"I hate to ask but have we met before?" Eloise asked, her tone returning ever so slightly to her more refined sounds. The man nodded.

"I'm surprised you remember, Princess. We were both quite young." He said. It hit her. He was the son of someone. Her Father's Grand Admiral. Grand Admiral Poole. That was it.

"Iggy!" She said pleasantly, recalling the tall, dashing boy she'd had a bit of a girlish crush on many years ago.

"It's Commodore now, Princess" He said, his formal tones and mannerisms not changing for a second. "Or something like that. I'll probably be accused of treason and stripped of rank in the next few weeks by both of our fathers."

"You're involved in the movement?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"I am." He said, painfully. As though it had been a decision that hurt even to think "I know I swore an oath to King and Country but , well, Country first. And I will not see the Navy under the yoke of the Ascibians, Ruined in one of their needless wars."

Her small reunion was then interrupted by Olaf.

"My payment, lad." He said. Ignatius pointed to a stack of crates behind him.

"It's all there." Ignatius assured him, eyeing the War Chief suspiciously. Olaf looked back to one of his men who nodded. Olaf motioned to the others who began lifting the heavy looking crates into the city.

"Yes, well, Princess. I'm going to have to be off. I'll be leading the Movement's forces in...whatever is to come next and I really must be back. I'm dreadfully sorry we couldn't arrange for them to treat you as a dignitary but they insisted that in order for you to be among them you'd have to live like one of them. And we very much needed you out of the Kingdom and safe and they were the only option."

"I'll be fine, Commodore." Eloise assured him. "Go, get back. Good luck."

Ignatius bowed to her, formally

"I'll endeavour to win us victory quickly for your sake, Princess. So you can return to us in some capacity or another."

And then he walked away. Eloise waved to him as she left and hoped very much that she would see him again. She turned to Olaf who was beaming with pride at either the city or the crates being taken into it. Eloise looked at him.

"Well, you got your payment." She said, almost sounding hurt.

"I did. Better than a year's worth of plunder. That young man of yours wanted your safety very badly." Olaf shrugged.

"So that's that and goodbye and all?" She wondered, looking at her new home. Despite her training, despite her time with him, she felt very much intimidated by what was to be her new home. Olaf, however, displayed no tenderness, no affection whatsoever.

"It is. You have the bag full of jewels in the carriage. It should buy you enough to get started. A war party will no doubt be through in a few weeks. There are always men who need good wives."

"And you?"

"Me, I'm off to my home and my First Woman." Olaf stated "I will eat and drink and fuck for a few days and then off again with my warband. Plunder somewhere."

"Good luck to you too then." Eloise said, looking at him as coldly as he'd looked at her. He nodded and turned to walk towards the village. Eloise stood and watched him go as he walked away from her without a word. The massive beast of a man strode confidently through the village gates, into his village.

"You'll do fine." he said without turning as he continued. Eloise just nodded.

~Chapter Ten, in which Eloise makes a new home~

Eloise walked into the market place. There was all manner of bustle and jostling. Men spending their plunder and women and elderly merchants plying their wares. There was the strong smell of roasted meat in the air and loud music and yelling coming from a nearby tavern. Eloise could not get over how large the Northerners were. Even the children that ran past her were of her size or larger. The women especially so. Eloise clutched the bag of jewels close to her. Her things were to be sold so as to have enough money to buy or at least procure some sort of place to live. Then she would simply have to live her life. Contribute to the village as best as she could. Eloise walked towards what looked like a jewelry buyer, his well appointed caravan where the occasional warrior would stop to barter his booty. Eloise strode to it cautiously. There was a large Ascibian man standing against it.

"What do you have then, girl? Something of your father's?" he said dismissively. Eloise reached into the bag and retrieved one of her diamond rings, the stone near the size of the pit of a peach and with a strong pink colour. It was flawless, she knew. It had belonged to her Great-Aunt Mildred and had been named "The Calandrian Rose". Eloise had not chosen it by accident. She'd long thought it garish and obscene and had never worn it. It had no sentimental value either, having never met Mildred. The Merchant was a professional man, however, and betrayed no sign that he had instantly recognized one of the crown jewels of Calandria.

"Looks too big to be real." He sneered "50 gold."

Eloise laughed. That was the monthly pay of a guard.

"It is real. It's yours for the price of 15,000 gold." She demanded

"Hah!" He laughed "15,000 gold for that trinket. Even if it were real I couldn't get half that for it. 1000 gold. If it checks out."

"Smaller stones, never mind the history or setting, sell for 10 times your offer." Eloise countered "The price is 15,000 gold."

The Merchant did show some crack to him now. It was a bargain. He knew it. So did Eloise. She knew that certain Nobles in the Tropics made it a point to pay exorbitant sums for historical jewels. If they were royal it was all the better. "3,000" He raised his offer "That's enough for a girl like you to buy one of these homes and live for years."

"The price is 15,000" Eloise insisted "And I know that Crown Prince Kalim of the Vil'anu will buy it for at least twenty

"10,000" The merchant conceded upon hearing the name. That was just who he'd thought of selling it to.

"You are not hearing me." Eloise locked her deep blue eyes upon the man's, her voice not cracking or showing any weakness "You will either pay me 15,000 for this or I will sell it to one who isn't an exploitative thief."

This brought the traffic around her to a standstill. Eloise didn't know it but calling a merchant a thief in a Nilfenhem market was akin to outright challenging his manhood. Men had been killed for it. But the jewelry buyer was not a Northerner. He simply felt the eyes on him and knew that it was incumbent on him to either agree to her price and fight her by their customs. If he lost, and looking at her the Merchant concluded he very well might, he'd lose all respect among his customers in the Village. So he nodded.

"I only have around 12,000 on me for the trip though." He said.

"You come here regularly?" Eloise asked

"Every month." the merchant nodded, his eyes still glued to the jewel.

"Then I will have my other 3,000 next month, won't I?"

"Whatever you say, girl." He just nodded as he reached for the ring. Eloise put it in his hand. The merchant looked at the ring closely for a second before turning to his assistants.

"Unload the rest of the gold where this girl says." He said, they nodded their heads. Eloise walked up to one of the boxes of gold he had and opened it, inspecting that he had indeed brought genuine and standard gold coins. Satisfied, she grabbed a handful and marched off to a nearby stall she'd seen. It was a clothier. Selling the furs that the Northern women around her wore. Eloise grabbed the ones she thought were the finest and again haggled with the older Northern woman, eventually reaching a mutually satisfactory price. Eloise yanked her dress over her head and stood there in the market, stark naked.

Some took note, a beautiful Calandrian girl was not an every day sight, but there was no commotion as she stepped into the thick, soft fur of the skirt and tunic. Eloise stood triumphantly for a second. She was no pushover. She'd gotten her price for the diamond, gotten her price for the furs. She'd worried if Olaf's teachings had only been basic. If her progress had only been impressive for a girl so untrained. But wearing the furs, Eloise saw that was not the case. The old woman had been making these all of her life and the things Eloise had sewn on her trip were just as good. With that in mind, and another thought in her head, Eloise walked from the market with purpose.

She walked down the main road to her destination. It was not hard to find. It was the largest house in the city, built on a small hill and meant to be visible to all. As Eloise walked the road to it, she soon caught sight of Olaf. He was embracing a woman. She was tall and beautiful. Pale, with thick black hair and a muscled, voluptuous form clad in the same furs that Eloise was now wearing. She looked not much older than Eloise was herself although she was much taller. Eloise walked up to the embracing couple. Olaf saw her and looked surprised. Unsure why she was there. He broke his embrace and gave a sweet look to her.

"I told you girl, you'll be fine. You'll find something to do and a husband and...."

"I am not here for you." Eloise snapped before looking back at the woman who was observing her with a mixture of confusion and interest "You are Vetra?"

"I am." She nodded, the First Woman of the village accustomed to strangers knowing her name.

"Are you with child?" Eloise continued

"I am not." Vetra shook her head. She'd only been First Woman a year and when Olaf had visited and tested her she'd not been at the right time for conception.

"Then by your customs and traditions I challenge you as First Woman of this Village." Eloise stated. Vetra looked at her strangely for a second. Then burst out laughing. She was being challenged by a girl no bigger than a child. She looked to Olaf who was looking upon the entire scene with bemusement.

"Is she serious?" Vetra asked of her War Chief.

"Seems so." Olaf said

"And you'd accept this little suntanned thing?" Vetra asked with more disbelief

Olaf thought for a second.

"I would."

"You've bedded her?" Vetra continued. Not a question of jealousy but of certainty. She hated the thought of having to kill Eloise for no good reason.

"I have." Olaf nodded again. Several villagers had gathered and there were runners going throughout the streets. Cries of "Challenge! Vetra is challenged!" were clearly visible. More people were coming by the second. Vetra saw the assembled crowd and nodded. She stepped towards Eloise, her hands up and at the ready. It was a stance Eloise had seen. Olaf had used it. Eloise adopted one of her own.

"I hope you know what you're doing, girl." Vetra laughed as the two circled each other briefly. Eloise remained silent, simply observing her motions. Vetra swung forward with her fists, Eloise sidestepped her attempt easily before they circled again. But Eloise began to smile and she jumped forwards.

Future Bards of the Nilfen would tell the tale of this particular challenge for many years. Always they would embellish. They would call it an epic struggle that lasted days. In truth, it was over after Vetra had thrown her first attack. Eloise darted towards the bigger woman and swung her right fist in a wild cross. Vetra sidestepped it with ease and confidence. She didn't even see Eloise spin out of the feigned punch, slamming her left elbow into Vetra's throat. Vetra was nearly defeated by the vicious blow alone. For good measure, Eloise grabbed Vetra's wrist and twisted it as she pulled the larger woman towards her, her knee impacting Vetra's midsection with an almost audible thud. Eloise then yanked her forward by the wrist again, flipping Vetra onto the ground on her back. Eloise then put her foot on Vetra''s neck while still twisting her wrist.

"Yield or die." Eloise spoke plainly. Vetra looked in shock and struggled but Eloise's grip was too tight and, as she felt herself nearly pass out from lack of breath, Vetra choked out her surrender.

"Yield. I yield." She said. Eloise loosened her grip, allowing Vetra to breath and rub her sore neck. Eloise paused for a second. She really would have killed the Northern Woman if she hadn't yielded. Cheers rang up from the crowd. Loud ones. They cared nothing for who'd won. Just that someone had. And it had been a decisive and brutal one. That was all they needed to swear a new allegiance.

Olaf put his hand on Eloise's shoulder.

"What of her then?" Olaf asked, pointing to Vetra. Vetra rubbed her neck sorely, the first defeat she'd ever experienced at the hands of a Woman.

"You can have him." Vetra laughed with genuine good humour "Him and that smell and that giant thing of his."

Eloise nodded. She knew that Vetra would have no role to fill because Eloise had none. She looked at Vetra, her pale, porcelain skin and silken, luxurious hair and made up her mind.

"She will live in a house I build." Eloise stated, to the crowd as much as Olaf. "She will stay on as my adviser. She will acclimatize me to your ways and the problems of the village."

"Good" Olaf nodded "Now let's go inside and we'll...."

"I'll deal with you later." Eloise said, cutting him off before again addressing the crowd. "What is an area of immediate concern here?"

There were various things shouted but one louder than all the other. As soon as they heard it, their voice was almost as one.

"The Docks!" Came back the cry. Eloise looked to Vetra for information.

"They want the docks rebuilt and expanded. More fishing. More trade." Vetra said, still looking down and rubbing her neck. "Cost too much this season. Maybe next."

"How much will it cost?" Eloise asked again

"Near 10,000 gold." Vetra said "And we only have one thousand people in the village. And they pay no tax."

Eloise then looked to Olaf who shrugged

"I have many villages with many problems." He said "And that's a lot of gold."

"Then whoever will build the Docks will go to the Ascibian jeweller in town." Eloise ordered "And will collect the needed amount from him. Work will begin tomorrow."

Another cheer came from the assembled throngs before they dispersed. They were eager to start on the work. They gave her a few more cheers on the way out. Eloise turned back to Olaf and the still seated Vetra who seemed ashamed to even look at the new First Woman

"Good start." Olaf nodded "But you'll need to..."

"And she," Eloise said, her voice still burning with purpose as she pointed at Vetra "Will share my bed while you are away."

"Good choice." Olaf said, smiling at Vetra "Many First Women have such arrangements."

Eloise looked down at Vetra

"That is acceptable?" Eloise asked. Vetra finally looked up at Eloise. Eloise saw right away that she'd been wrong. Vetra was not shamed. The look in Vetra's eyes as she looked at Eloise was one of pure, unbridled lust. She saw right away that getting defeated by Eloise had warmed Vetra far more than Olaf's tongue had done to Eloise when they'd first coupled. Eloise smiled before turning back to Olaf.

"Now let's go inside and see if I'm enough for you in bed." Eloise said sarcastically, clearly indicating she thought it would be a test of the reverse.

The End

(RCH Addendum: Of course, that is simply the end of Eloise's journey. While the Princess thought she'd live in Suvind for the rest of her days, her time in the North lasted only the 6 years of the Calandrian War of Rebellion. The People's Movement and those loyal to the King fought an intense and bloody conflict better chronicled at length elsewhere before the Nobility, having lost the king the year before, sued for peace after their crushing defeat at the hands of Admiral Ignatius Poole at the Battle of Cafen Strait. The result of the peace was an agreement that called for a Bicameral legislature with one house composing of an elected parliament and another composed of the Nobility. The Nobility, still threatening to call on the Ascibians for aid if their terms were not met, insisted on a Monarch with at least figurehead authority and Veto. The People's Movement readily agreed and Princess Eloise was summoned back from her brief exile. She returned for her Coronation clutching the young Princess Elsbeth triumphantly, her return being seen as a end to the harsh and bloody war.

In the fifteen years since, Eloise has reigned over a prosperous and peaceful rebuilding of the nation. While a figurehead to the People's Government headed by Prime Minister Thurgood, she was nevertheless seen as an important and uniting figure, easing the strife of the deeply divided Nation. Queen Eloise has never married, preferring to consort with various people of her choosing. She is a frequent guest of Prime Minister and Lady Thurgood and also would frequently receive the War Chief Olaf for the remaining 12 years of his rule before his drowning at sea. Vetra was named the Nilfen's Ambassador to Calandria and frequently joins the Queen and the Princess at the Hunting Estates where Queen Eloise makes her personal home.)

[raglanphd]

Some Thoughts on Artifical Intelligence, Psychology, and the Future of Consciousness

Evolutionary theory has rendered the non-sensibility of animals absurd. We are related to these animals from a common ancestor, and since we have feelings why shouldn’t they?

Artificial intelligence has rendered reasoning so far as we can model it as not uniquely human. What makes human thought unique is the subjective (qualia), the introspective, willing, desiring, thinking, choosing, questioning. And really the intentionality of machines is really derived from us intentional beings. Does acting intelligent equate true intelligence as we know it? No. Artificial intelligence could be just that, artificial.

The fourfold critique of strong AI: Gödel impossibility theorem of representing all statements in a single logical system. The Chinese Room thought experiment which denies semantical understanding through syntactical understanding. Mary’s Room. There is knowledge which cannot be found through physical knowledge. Multiple realizability of mental states and second order identity theory. Basically the problem of induction establishing a necessary relationship as well as identity, as mental functions may be performed by different states of matter. collapse of straight identity of mind with brain

Nevertheless, it seems that what makes humans unique in the universe as Aristotle’s zoon logikon, the rational animal, is the conjunction of rationality and animality. It seems to be what we share with animals, some sort of subjective awareness, that is harder to explain than how reasoning works.

And of course our reasoning is not separate from our emotional functioning. See my review of The Righteous Mind by Jonathan Haidt: “The philosophers preceded the cognitive psychologists and so their views still set the debate today. A very popular view has been that reason is separate from emotional functioning, which has its adherents from Plato to Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson’s metaphor was that of the two consuls of the Roman Republic who shared duties domestically and outside the country.

“This view has been undercut by neuroscientists like Antonio Damasio who point toward two pieces of evidence. 1) brain damage to the prefrontal cortex affects emotional functioning. This was demonstrated by railroad worker Phineas Gage in the 19th century who was struck by a railroad spike in his left frontal cortex. He survived with his memory and intelligence intact but his behavior radically changed. He became more impulse and obstinate to the point where he was fired. 2) Split brain operations reveal how stimuli from one half affects the operation of the other half. The left half of the brain is involved in language and abstract reasoning and the right half is involved in spatial and recognition tasks. If a word is flashed to the left eye (controlled by the right hemisphere) the left side of the body (controlled by the left hemisphere) can act without any conscious awareness.

“Even more evidence against the separation of reason and emotion came from behavioral economics. The work of Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky in the late 1970s challenged rational choice models of decision making with bounded rationality. Individuals make shortcuts to decision making called heuristics, rules of thumb. Humans are cognitive misers, meaning they economize their own expenditure of reasoning and available data to patterns of thinking which are familiar. A common heuristic is availability: a preference for information readily available is preferred to what isn’t. Heuristics are essentially intuitive and not rational and yet are a regular part of mental functioning.”

David Hume won the debate.

I checked out two years ago or so Edward Feser’s Philosophy of Mind: A Beginner’s Guide again to read the parts I didn’t finish about intentionality when I read the chapter on consciousness which I also missed (I really just wanted the bare basics).

Feser suggests that consciousness in terms of feeling is actually harder nowadays to explain than reason is, at least for the materialists. The intro said that what we share with animals, the capacity to feel, is what makes us unique from material automatons. A position Feser said Aristotle would find very strange. For thousands of years the mystery of human nature has been that we are the only species capable of language, manipulating symbols to represent something outside of our immediate environment.

This mystery began to unravel after Darwin, after all some of the primates have some means of communication and complex behavior. Since we evolved from a common ancestor ape, our intelligence should be able to be explained in evolutionary terms. And in fact this is what evolutionary psychology and neuroscience have been excelling at the last 20-30 years.  There are now very plausible theories explaining how intelligence evolved. One is Machiavellian, that a big brain allows us to deceive others and predict their actions to control them to enhance our survival, particularly of our genes. Another one which I learned in a class called The Evolution of Mating Behavior is that human intelligence is the product of sexual selection. Being intelligent signals fitness, as having a big brain and intelligence is physically demanding, which would help males compete with other males for sexual access to females, who in turn would become more intelligent to recognize it in men. I think that the mechanism for this would be increasing parental investment in offspring from the male side and increasing female choice. In any case, the evolution of intelligence is most likely due to functioning in social groups.

That our minds differ in degree from the apes still bothers people. That there isn’t an absolute barrier between human beings and animals as we exist under the same laws and share common ancestry, even though we are qualitatively different. But it is artificial intelligence that worries me, and I think a good number of other people, because it suggests that what has been thought to be the mark of human uniqueness can be imitated by inorganic automatons. Darwin’s theories began and ended with organisms, describing how they branched off to the diversity of life we see today. It’s the field of psychology, a rather young field, that is relevant to the state of consciousness with artificial intelligence.

David Hume figured this out centuries ago. “Man is a reasonable being, and as such he gets appropriate food and nourishment from the pursuit of knowledge; but so narrow are the limits of human understanding that we can’t hope for any great amount of knowledge or for much security in respect of what we do know…It seems, then, that nature has pointed out a mixed kind of life as most suitable for the human race, and has secretly warned us not to tilt too far in any of these directions and make ourselves incapable of other occupations and entertainments…Be a philosopher, but amidst all your philosophy be still a man.’

Hume also knew that learning is an organic process, not like a Turing computer going by logical steps but constantly adjusting itself by trial and error.

Most importantly, "our wonder will perhaps cease or diminish when we consider that the reasoning from experience which we share with the beasts, and on which the whole conduct of life depends, is itself nothing but a sort of instinct or mechanical power that acts in us without our knowing it, and in its chief operations isn’t directed by any such relations or comparisons of ideas as are the proper objects of our intellectual faculties.”

Artificial intelligence will succeed because it is artificial, it mimics the behaviors that go into performing tasks. But what tasks ought to be performed and why and for whom is largely unknown to us in conscious and especially reflective life. It turns out that our commonality with animals is what is most important for us.

Hume’s philosophy is the refuge for skeptics. Hume argued basically that causal knowledge cannot give us necessary/certain knowledge about different things. If thinking comes to be completely logical, there will be a gap between fact and value.

#philosophy #artificial intelligence #philosophyofmind