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shy-magpie · 3 years

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RQG 157

these things get long and are by definition one spoiler after another, so live blog under the cut

pre episode nonsense:

My hopes for this episode are mostly just the obvious: For Zolf to pull out of his spiral; for Azu to talk to someone about how she's doing; for Hamid to find his footing with the Kobolds (loving that they are devoting a proper arc to using unearned privilege/power rather than pretending it doesn't exist); more Cel lore; a Wug; and for someone to shake answers out of the Brorb. Not sure Alex is going to let us get to know the kids individually which makes sense as juggling 7 new NPCs would seriously cut into everyone else's screen time. I think we will get more of Skraak & Hamid working through their issues, and Skraak's helping the kids through recovery. If we are very lucky maybe Zolf & Skraak will talk rather than just have Zolf resent the Kobolds for putting Hamid in a place to fall into old habits. Okay lets hit play!

Episode live blogging:

Intros are quick: Zolf sounds low, Ben sounds higher energy than he was.

Oh the Brorb drawings come better when the other half is distracted but not thinking about the real topic.

Krakens are through out the globe, unknown numbers, not true instances of Shoin, network is down.

Cel and I both react to having Shoin be the one to come closest to a truly non physical form.*

Krakens are cloned brains in robot bodies. Specifically said Daleks not Jurassic Park.

Shoin thinks he sent a ransom note using the Kraken as a threat against the world.

Does not handle it well when Zolf hones in on that no one knows who he is, much less trembles at his name.**

Hamid follows Zolf's lead and twists it towards boasting about beating the Infection. The talking half doesn't seem to know how he did it as clearly as the drawing bit. Unfortunately its strictly surgical which would be hard to reproduce at scale even before you consider the side effects.

Quick huddle with the rest of the team:

Cel always wanted to go to London?

Zolf wants to ask more about how the infection works so they could prevent infection. Wilde thinks he is suggesting using Shoin's solution, I get Alex has to catch people up but I don't like Wilde being a paragraph behind me or underestimating Zolf.

Bryn wants to review the diary. Alex confirms the diary says he had a possible way to "end it" as a whole.

They go back and Cel feigns being extremely impressed that Shoin might have a way to stop the infection. I think having time to regroup cut him off from his memory of the infection again. Alex spells out Shoin loses coherence whenever they bring up the infection/the time period around when he was infected.

Heal check time. Zolf crit fails. Azu got a 29 and can see where his theory was better than his surgery. It may be an aphasia (issues to with communication. can't get to certain words, some can't be spoken even if he understands the concept; others he can't understand if he hears them even if he uses the word/concept himself. Brain trauma, memory problems more severe the more recent you get, sounds like unable to store short term memory properly so anything longer ago than a week but after surgery likely lost.)

Cel switches to the simulacrum. He verbally dismisses it as a waste of time. His hand keeps drawing based on the previous question re:stopping the infection.

Alex calls for a sense motive. Zolf & Azu see the latest drawing is a landscape using technical notation. Its a barren mine. Yes! it's the entrance to Svalbard. Cel can see its a circuit. Alex makes us/Lydia wait until after he's done with the simulacrum stuff.

Shoin thinks using humans as your base design to improve from is the wrong approach, gives some credit to Francois Henri for taking a different approach.

The circuit maybe to transmit something, it needs an organic component. Cel couldn't roll much better then that so they probably need to kick it towards the Harlequins to set a team on.

Shoin is moaning about paying the bills. Took on the contract to provide Simulacrum fluidics to Damascus for the money.

Drawings change shape get less technical and focus on the cavern entrance. Ben catches it sounds yonic, Alex was trying to not go there but did he really think you could go from cave imagery to seed imagry without stopping there?

Hamid tries to get more on how he caught the infection.

Bryn and Alex spell out that to get answers you ask a real question he won't answer verbally but will answer with his hand, with a decoy to keep the talking him distracted while the hand answers.

Decoy question is about Harrison Campell.

Concept drawing of a person, overwhelmed by an image of a huge figure with lines going from the small to the large? Is he suggesting they plant someone they prepare to be infected, and have them infect it back?

Proofs? Minor changes between the proofs and published version of early Campbell books.

Another review session upstairs. Hamid's red string wall got cited as being useful! Cult of Hades/Wellington may have been the one to hire Shoin to make parts for Damascus. Zolf and Hamid talk briefly, about work and as dry "stick to the subject" as possible but they are talking productively.

Oh Ben finally gets in that the interrogation is hard on Zolf's knees because he has to keep his legs out of the cell. He snaps a little at Cel when they comment on cell vs Cel. Carter suggests "naughty box" which nicely derails that point of tension. Cel refers to Shoin as being more pleasant to talk to than Carter. Not sure if that undermines the tiny Cel/Carter ship or fuels it with tension.

Cel asks who hired Shoin to make Sim parts. He can answer directly. Well directly for him, it seems to be mostly justifying stealing Tesla's work on the basis that Tesla wasn't going to implement his theory. Hamid snipes him with a shot praising Edison to get him back on topic. Shoin says Edison was being backed by a big investor. Is it to much to hope this is Alex finally consolidating the factions? If Hades is Edison's investor (leaving Edison & co as effectively their minions, rather than a faction of their own) and the factory owners we can cut down on sides considerably.

He goes on about how he spied on Henri, religion as money maker. Shoin was directly approached by Hades lot. Shoin made sure his bits won't work since he didn't want competition. Wellington was his contact with Hades. Wellington always had a pair of cloaked figures. Vinegar + squizard = funny? Could be useful.

Do not follow what is going on with the hand.

Shoin is still unstuck in time and thinks he is going to connect them. Cel unplugs the speaker on his villain speech. Cel induces a dream state by powering him down

~break~

Cel suggests painlessly killing him. Zolf seconds the idea because its immoral to keep him like that. Hamid points out the longer the keep him around the more likely it is for someone to be infected. Wilde rules they should kill and seal it off.

Cel & Zolf have an argument about having the Kobolds handle the remains. Cel calls Zolf out on his inconstant stance on whether the Kobolds can be infected because if he doesn't believe that then he is risking them.

Wilde is moving on? Cel suggests letting the Brorb die, putting it in a bag of holding, keeping the bag in the anti magic field.

They can't just call Einstein because using unofficial channels is bad when irregular behavior is a sign of infection(?)

Alex's unhealthy attitudes about productivity are called out when he refers to the time Wilde spends thinking/planning before getting their transport arranged as "working" (with the inverted commas) rather than considering it part of the work.

They work out possible paths if teleporting is off the table.

And the boys are snapping at each other again. Zolf, you can't flip out every time you are reminded that Hamid doesn't have the experience or expertise of a seasoned sailor. Yeah you did leave the team without your skills and maybe the kid was a bit green for a field promotion; but you know what? He did a fine job, and the other choices were Sasha, who wouldn't lead, and Bertie, who shouldn't. Just because stepping down was the right thing to do, doesn't mean you get to lose it when you are confronted with the mere allusion to the idea it had consequences.

Barnes tells Hamid why going over the pole is a really bad idea. That Azu's suggestion is carrying Hamid has troubling symbolism.

Zolf actually comes more or less to Hamid's defense by pointing out that all their options are bad options, so having a go at Hamid's idea in particular is unwarranted.

I'm not going to bother listing out options. They will pick one or won't need to pick one. If we have been a very good fandom Alex may reward us with Earhart coming back as their preferred transport.

There we go, Hamid suggests her, Zolf seizes on the idea compliments Hamid on it, and immediately takes it to Wilde. Thank God he isn't so far down he can't do that. If he isn't compulsively shooting down any hope (especially from Hamid) then he really is on the upswing from the low brought on by quarantine stress.

Lydia isn't happy that there isn't going to be an American chapter. Then again we wrote off Svalbard, so don't give up!

Its the Northwest Passage and its so weird realizing that not everyone has it as a cultural reference. Wonder if it's an Oregon thing or a US thing.

Yes it would have been cool, but I think Alex is not going to let us have cool new story arcs when we haven't played with the ones we have at home.

Einstein and Earhart are our two best transport options. I am a happy fan. Especially if Zolf has to use his family and Earhart’s reaching out to him near the end of the journey to appeal to her. I mean we did get more on Zolf's relationship with his family than I expected after Paris, so I'm not going to sulk if they don't pursue this, but it would be nice.

Conflicted as a fan, its hard to remember that this taking months extra is a bad thing when the end of the series is feeling too close for comfort.

Zolf, look at you leveraging your experience with moving even when things feel hopeless!

Cel I love you, kraken as submarine is brilliant. Air kraken is suggested by Carter.

Hamid plays with the ideas while Alex goes "why?". Because you are going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than that if you want Hamid to see it as a no win situation rather than proof he needs to redouble on cheerful creativity. Feeling like he had no options led to the worst parts of Hamid's life, the things he is truly ashamed of; having few losses outside of those, he is going to make Kirk's Kobayashi Maru hang ups look amateur.

Zolf is heading to the beach.

Cel is checking on their village.

Hamid wants to contact Einstein himself, Zolf says he should talk to Wilde about that. Hamid wants Zolf with him for that meeting. Zolf either doesn't want to be a safety blanket, wants Hamid to get used to dealing with Wilde directly, or completely missed Hamid offering a chance to work together because he is incapable of seeing Wilde as an opponent. He does say some nice things about being a team.

Hamid tells Cel to say hi to Jasper for them. He is good at the people side of leadership. Remembering names and relationships, knowing how to show he cares because it's important to Cel without overstepping. If Zolf can learn to let go of the rank stuff, they could be an unbeatable team of co leaders.

Zolf nods at Azu. Azu smiles proudly back. Alex jokes about not liking giving them time to heal because they coordinate.

Hamid offers hugs to both Cel and Zolf. Because this entire character is a "fuck you" to toxic masculinity and he is not afraid to openly show affection to his friends.

Cel gives him a great hug.

Zolf hesitates but gives him a pat on the shoulder. Hamid's has high enough charisma to make that not awkward. Good kid, accepting that Zolf is reaching out as far as he can.

Hamid talks to Skraak. Hamid is worried about taking the kids. Maybe Skraak can convince them to stay & help Jasper with science. Because RQG loves us and wants us to be happy, they are considering a fantasy some of us harbored since "science" as a serious possibility. Could solve the issue with Alex not wanting the kids to take up too much screen time too. Skraak is the perfect character for Hamid to have as his second. He believes in Hamid, and can be confided in, but isn't going to take an ounce of self pity or bullshit.

Alex that village better be okay. Smoke? Controlled burn. Ben lightens the mood. The tank is still guarding the village. The barricade is up but they are guarding about as well as a village of level 0(1?) characters can be expected to.

They are having a party and there is a bon fire. Because Alex knows we wouldn't have trusted him if there wasn't a little scare with the smoke. !puns

The village is visibly healing since the weather is fixed. They thank Cel but know better than to ask.

Jasper! Jasper is looking good. He stepped in as a leader of the village. Cel and I could burst with pride. Jasper thinks Cel is coming to stay, Cel tries to explain they are going to help save the other villages around the world and mentions that Jasper would like the Kobolds.

!puns

* One day I need to hunt down the right corner of SF because there has got to be a decent amount of trans humanist fiction for trans humans out there somewhere.

**Not sure if I should feel bad for hoping this gives him a safe target for his destructive tendencies. Ideally Zolf would get past that point without indulging his dark side lest he reinforce bad coping mechanisms. Ideally Zolf would have weekly therapy without the fate of the world on his shoulders too. Its the more personal version of looking forward to a fight after Hamid's been stressed because he seems to find cooking baddies cathartic.

#Rusty Quill Gaming #live blog thingy #RQG 157 #RQG Spoilers #RQG Season 4

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emersonmanandnature · 3 years

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January 10, 2021

The Rising Sun

we have a world of misrepresentation, a lack of honest words deepening our conscious paranoia of traders accumulating under the guise of friendly intimidation, our baby savior born in a stable, the son of god given to mankind by a father unworthy for what godly father would send his only son to this debased planet of greed, power, killing for pleasure and not make the journey himself in his full bodiless voice as he showed his power in the old testament but never showed his physical human face or was it a god like face, handsome lord showing off his prowess to give his underlings pain and suffering when he wasn’t being adored every second of their days in squalor, for one must obey the rightful heirs to the throne of earthly ruthlessness even if they are like all human faces without earned power instead killing everything in their way to become an earthly god and when jesus’s face showed up on a sacred cloth a handsome face in agony and after his tortured self was nailed to a cross forgiving us our corrupted faithless sins, the churches got bigger, the minister slicker in his stylish brioni-narrow stripe suits fitted to the man’s ego of self importance all a cover image of caring for others but the caring is depended on the flow of money to their godly nature to their bank account and not yours and their savior not yours and god’s hell is waiting for you not them these gluttons of greed worshiping wealth over a god unknown but love the phrase, ‘everything money can buy,’ with their stolen cash deposited in off shore accounts, can I get a ‘praise the lord.’

his sacrifice for others a necessary response a bait and switch hustle for we are told by god to obey the laws of his created reality, his forceful infinite power imagined yet without substance and authenticity what purpose exposed religion of its sinful nature, to strike fear into the souls of humans conditioning them to be present and accepting their godly induced pain without sympathy for the poor who were taken without mercy to do the dirty work in building edifices to honor the already present gods ruling over their begotten flock seeking someway to escape the controlling force of powerful forces eating away at their dreams, for soon they will rise into the heavens of a godly imagination for you are nothing here on this planet for the real rulers seek the graceful killings of men, women and children for all are sinners in god’s ghostly presence, a story understood immediately to be the climax of illusions needed to placate the people to suffer now but soon when killed from slavery will rise from the grave as the rightful son of god did and be born again in darkness for the scam was hope as they are slaughtered by the ego’s of selfish brutality determined to keep their power through history at all costs for after all we are just human beings grasping for something real, something good, that allows us a breath of fresh air knowing that we are doing someone worthwhile, a good deed silent without praise for why do we need praise for our invisible god still gets the majority of praise when it was human beings understanding someones needs and giving without a need to be worshiped, we live a dual life of hypocrisy praising a god never scene and ignoring poverty and hunger as if that didn’t exist either,

we are not god’s my darling child said the wealthy man to his daughter but father, why then do all our servants bow in your presence, well my daughter it is because I own them but papa aren’t they people just like us with hopes and desires and goals, no my darling girl we are better than all of them put together, the middle class now inching closer to being poor, amongst the already poor, those living out on the cold hardened streets, but what would god say to you about your ownership of these people papa, for you are not a god, he would praise me for I built my wealth from the ground up on the backs of the workers, I didn’t preach or praise if anyone wasn’t doing his/her best then they were let go, but how would they feed their family, oh my darling child if he worked himself to death he still couldn’t save his family from poverty and starvation, doesn’t that make you want to help them even more, of course I want to help them and that is why I own them to make them work harder and harder for our beautiful mansion for then they will see what they have accomplished and feel proud before they parish, oh papa don’t you feel sad to blame the poor that starve to death or just collapse from exhaustion because their wages are so low, you will understand soon enough my daughter for we are above the fray, it is our solemn duty to make money and only money to support our lavish lifestyle for their lifestyles are meager at best and they can’t be trusted to be anything else but exploited, herded animals to be put to work, but father we could give them a better chance, no, no, no, I must stop you my darling for in my lifetime and my father’s before me and his father before him they don’t deserve our gifts, it is I that made the money off them, off mother earth by raping the landscape destroying its beauty for my own purpose, for us to be in our own paradise away from the havoc of despair, who needs a god to judge us we will judge him and his inability to take care of all his children, good night princess and don’t worry about the lower class for they are here to serve our needs not theirs, that is god’s will to obey the powers that be, god’s power given in his announcement through the apostles that we obey the masters of this world until we die and then we go to paradise to obey our true master.

God’s power is my power, I am a conduit to him our lord, my reasons for being alive in his presence and his heaven waiting us all.

What presence? What heaven?

I am afraid Jesus left this earthly hell centuries ago and decided to move on to bigger and better worlds than this crackpot world of greed, wars and humiliation of his commandments. For mankind is caught in a dual existence of matter and thought. Matter is just there to be manipulated and I believe we constituent matter to be exploited.

But ideas move us further away from a godly symbol and applauds the ego of human nature. For we have the power to change this reality into our own paradise, accepting all into the circle of caring love. In other words we become for the rich their private cash machine!

The mind conditioned with triggers that easily fill the fools inadequacy to rely not on themselves to find truth but to believe in anothers truth that pushes one to selfish hatred of humans that don’t look like them, the white racists.

The mind triggered, easily fooled always looking for the new scam to succeed over the little people, taking their hard earned dollars.

Amen, praise the lord for he is our truth of injustice for all. Except the true criminals getting away with murder, hallelujah!

Lord god what was your purpose in making us. Were you lonely, in a silent universe and you needed something to save, in order to feel powerful, to feel godly in order to be worshiped.

That seems pretty close to the elites that now rule our world.

God you are the ultimate power and why would you need us lowly humans to be your independent puppets. A forced march to our deaths through the hell of earthly criminals taking from us our humanity.

Why would you ask us to follow the powerful leaders of your creation, the warriors of our beginning, the vicious murders taking place since our evolution of power, the taking of someones independence for their pleasure!

If god exists why would he postpone the garden of eden, our mother earth and love of his children with all his heart and not through a trilogy of powers that seem to be on their own biblical page.

For us our lord, your suffering in loneliness created these men and now you expect us to cow down to the ugliness of their greedy sins. As they the powerful laugh all the way to their hidden banks.

If you were sincere in your actions of love by creating us then why wouldn’t you have checked up on us to see how we are progressing in your hypocrisy of using the word savior. For we are living in the pit of hell with corruption always present and hate feeds the masses to exploit each other for profit and wars escalate as bigger and better weapons are made and you sit on your throne doing what?

Get off your ass and get down here and truly save us not from hell for we are in hell but to at least strike fears in the wealthys lifestyle of worshiping money over people.

Please give us a clue on why you have been absent from us. Do you fear we would be a bad influence on your heavenly angels. Are you that appalled at our action of desires, power and hate. What are you waiting for?

Are you waiting for the last days of insanity? I got news for you almighty knower of everything, we are living it now!

Your time has always been now, so explain yourself, why are you hiding from your people. Are you ashamed of your creations? I can see why you should be ashamed of yourself for throwing Adam and Eve out of paradise by introducing them to satan.

What a great surprise you pulled, happy birthday and your out of this earthly paradise to toil and fight for you existence!

That sounds very familiar your highness for we are those people, adams and eves fighting for our lives!

What are you waiting for the end of days? They are closer than you know. We are soon to be under siege not by our governments military for that is already present but by climate change that is increasing the need for people to migrate to find water and food.

And it seems all knowing master you have ignored the cruelty of our lives in silence. Creating a void of communication so the people are forced to rely on human beings that have the character of lucifer.

Wake up god get real and give us your verbal words and not an ancient book made to make us complacent of our station in life.

Are you waiting for something to happen but aren’t you all seeing, all knowing so you know what is coming and yet you sit back and refuse to interfere with the constant pollution sickening innocent people. Look at our leaders all bought and sold to the highest bidder. Criminals and murders have taken over your planet you named paradise, bull shit it is about your ego and the mess you left without returning to help your congregation. We are dying in military madness, racism, poverty and pandemics. I hope you have good seats to watch your sinners die a slow painful death!

The parade of wealthy hypocrites all through our evolution, their propaganda cunning to keep the people focused on death rather than life to find their paradise!

Living in pain and suffering, a useful tool for if christ could suffer for our sinful nature then our lives too must suffer for we are the guilty sinners of god’s all knowing wrath but our holy savior brought to us in a heavenly disguise, made an appearance on broadway in a play called, jesus christ super star,’ these new gods of institutionalized corruption take from the poor to give to the cult of evil wealth, their minds joined to partake in the dismantling of peace, happiness and love and replace it with raping every inch of this planet for their own personal needs, the murdering of innocent people all through our viscous centuries, placating the population with an afterlife ruse that made their lives painfully lived seeking a paradise that the wealthy own and destroyed here on mother earth, god’s gift to his children here on planet earth which he abandoned for other creations, I guess?

#creation #earth #poverty #hope #end of days #satan #god #wealth #climate #hell #cjcorwinoriginal

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godsofmonster · 4 years

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Bangtan MC ≽ IV.

Reader x Bangtan- Motorcycle Club

Word Count- 8.9k

Warnings- sexual content, death, murder, guns, drugs, violence, betrayal, mentions of suicide, mentions of rape, etc.

For as long as I can remember back, I always wanted to be in a motorcycle club. Since I was six years old, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on a Harley and a cut. I was a wolf, a wild cur, cut from the pack with bloodstained on my fur. Every wrong has marked a debt because a beaten dog never forgets.

My foot tapped against the pavement while I kept shuffling in my seat. The surrounding tables were empty, despite it being lunchtime. I could see over the balcony from my place at the table. My eyes watched down the street for any oncoming cars. I played with the glass of water in front of me, swirling the straw and knocking the pieces of ice against the rim.

"(Y/n)?"

I caught a glimpse of his figure from the corner of my eye. I immediately rose to greet him but hit my knee on the metal edge in the process. The feeling tickled my bone and shot down my leg.

I attempted to groan quietly but could not mask the injury in my expression.

"Are you alright?"

I felt his hand on my shoulder as I leaned over in pain. Great first impression, I thought.

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied, sucking up the pain and standing straight. When I turned to look at him, I was taken back by a pair of dark eyes. A set of thick black brows hung over his eyes, matching a head of full black hair cut short on the sides. His skin was tan and his jawline was cutting, I didn't expect him to be so young.

"Anthony Romero," He said gently, offering his hand out for me to take in a greeting.

I held his hand and couldn't help but stare at how attractive he was. "Please, sit."

I looked down to take my chair, being wary of the edge of the table, before seating myself. He took the opposite seat across from me, allowing us a moment to settle before speaking,

"Well, you certainly look the part," He joked lightly, trying to break the tension between us.

I looked down at what I was wearing. It was a rendition of what I had been wearing this entire week; dark-colored jeans, a Guns and Roses t-shirt, and my leather jacket. It was definitely a 180 to his city boy outfit.

"I haven't had time to go shopping," I replied, stiffly. Even though, my current style was simply a more mature version of this.

"Have you looked through the-" He took the menu in his hands, speaking casually.

"I'm not very hungry." I cut him off fairly quickly. I didn't mean to be rude, however, I was uncomfortable being seen in public.

I had advised him beforehand, that meeting, and staying out of Blackburn would be the best idea. The town could recognize an outsider from a mile away. In my opinion, the next town over was not far enough. "I'd like to say something first before we begin,"

"Of course," He set the menu down and gave me his full attention.

There was a switch in his head that brought him from casual to business. I could see it on the night of his eyes. It was almost intimidating.

"I've been working with the DEA for three years, this job has given me a sense of moral direction- if you will," I said, hoping for him to understand where I was coming from. "I've had to leave this life behind a long time ago. I literally left everything here in California."

Romero watched me intently, his eyes searching my being for any signs I could give off. He read my body language, how tense and worried I was.

"I can still leave all of this behind, but I can not- will not let this club die."

He sighed at my words, sinking back in his seat, as I continued,

"I want to help you take down the Camilo Cartel, but I need to know that our investigation isn't going to hurt the MC."

"(Y/n) I understand your relationship with the club, but you said it yourself, you haven't had a connection to them in seven years." I grabbed my drink, taking a sip of the cold water as I felt my body heat with emotion. "Bangtan has been on ATF's radar for years. They aren't a Robinhood club anymore- they're a gang. One that's been dealing arms to gangs all over California."

"We aren't ATF," I told him bluntly.

He looked at me severely offended. I knew what my words sounded like to his ears. I had looked at him in the eyes and told him I didn't care.

"You want us to cut a deal with the club?" He scoffed at the idea. "You know they'd never take it."

"No, I want you to make a deal with me," I tried not to sound demanding, but I needed to be honest with him if this was going to work. “Nothing I say about this club can be used against them.”

"You had a deal," He snapped. He didn't have to raise his voice to make me feel his rage. I could see it in his gestures, the fire burning in his eyes. "Don't forget, you came to work with us so you wouldn't serve a ten-year sentence for heroin possession."

"The deal was I helped the DEA put away a shot caller," Back when I was shooting up heroin nearly twice a day, I had grown close to a high ranking gang member, who was part of a large network of dope dealers. "I came to work afterward because it was the only good thing I had ever done with my life."

His stare only became more troublesome. I sighed to myself, also leaning away from the conversation. "I understand if you can't make me this deal. But then, I need you to fire me and find another way to get to the Cartel. I'm not going to destroy this club or let them destroy themselves."

"You think you can save them?" He asked as if I was filled with senseless hope.

"If they don't taste this drug money, I think we can," I was stubbornly hopeful.

"The DEA just wants the Cartel. As long as you help us through the information from Bangtan, we won't prosecute them." Agent Romero stood from his chair and pulled out his phone. "I'll make the call and get you the paperwork."

I could finally breathe easy once he stepped away to make that phone call. Bangtan could never understand my situation, why I would be working with the DEA in the first place. It was everything our lifestyle preached against. We were anarchists.

Emma Goldman said,

Anarchism stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion. The liberation of the human body from the coercion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. It stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals.

That's what Bangtan was supposed to represent and it did, a long time ago, before it knew the payment of sin. When your life is moved off the social grid, you give up on the safety that society provides. On the fringe, blood and bullets are the rules of the law and if you have convictions, violence is inevitable. When you take action to avenge the ones you love, personal justice collides with social and divine justice. You become a judge, jury, and god. Some people cave under the weight, others abuse the momentum. But the true outlaw finds the balance between the passion in their heart and the reason in their mind.

Bangtan was lost under my father's leadership. I didn't realize that until I was gone from his side. I hated to admit that maybe, under Namjoon, the club could find their way back. I just had to make sure that happened.

"I'll have the paper ready for you later tonight," Agent Romero said, returning to the table. He pulled the chair out for himself, "I'm hoping to just go over some basic information with you for right now."

"Alright," I would still be mindful of the information we discussed, nothing would be set until I signed those papers.

I moved into the front of my jacket, taking hold of a pack of cigarettes that I regretted at the moment of purchasing, but now was grateful for. Romero remained with his phone in his hands, looking through images that I couldn't make out from my seat.

"As of right now, the number of members in the club is unknown to us. However, we think it's somewhere between twenty-five to thirty." He said, his eyes still trailing over the screen. I pulled out a square from its tight pack, arranging it between my dry lips and flickering my zippo lighter. Romero reacted to the sound, his eyes finding their way to me but not daring to say anything against it. "Of course, there are the eight members who are at the head of the table as of right now- well, seven now,"

He stammered over the sensitive information. Romero looked over my expression for any sign of discomfort. The only thing he found was the nicotine leaving my mouth in smoke form. "Bangtan was established in 1987, all of the original founding members are either in prison or dead. They are what is identified as part of the 1% of motorcyclists that practice in criminal activity for a living."

That was something that Bangtan wore as a patch on their cuts. The 1% patch referred to a comment by the American Motorcyclist Association, that 99% of motorcyclists were law-abiding citizens, implying the last one percent were outlaws. "According to ATF reports, Bangtan established a direct line to a secret Russian group that dealt with firearms. Despite constant observations and raid attempts, they've never been able to catch them with a large possession of illegal firearms."

"Bangtan doesn't cross their money streams, the bar is a legitimate business. They have a separate location for their illegal activity." I said to him.

They learned that the hard way. The only thing you would find in the bar is watered down alcohol and burner phones.

"They built a compromise with the Pure Brotherhood fifteen years ago, to keep the drug trade out of Blackburn." My father knew what drugs could do to a person. He didn't want me, or any of the youth in the town to grow up knowing that trouble.

"Until now," Agent Romero placed his phone on the table and sighed. He knew my words were true and that things were about to get much worse.

"You have to know, as well as I do, that Bangtan joining the Cartel is a matter of when- not if." I did know. I just didn't want to admit it. "If it comes to supporting a neo-nazi group, who are preparing for the great race war- or an organized, billion-dollar trade. The option is pretty clear to me."

Romero was right. Supporting a racist organization was never something the club appreciated. It was bad business and the Camilo Cartel was the perfect way out of it.

"The club knows how commanding Camilo will be. They won't give in without some kind of backlash of other members." I said, hoping that was enough to stall them.

He didn't seem very convinced by my reasons as a waitress came by with a glass of water for him. He thanked her and ordered something for himself that I didn't quite hear.

"For you?" She politely smiled at me. I waved her off with a hand gesture, trying to be as pleasant as I could.

We observed her leave the balcony to place his order. Romero set the notes of his phone away and began to ask me questions.

"What can you tell me about the local law enforcement?" There wasn't much to say.

"They obviously don't appreciate the sense of authority the club has over the town. But they have let a few things slide from time to time." I took another drag, a deeper one than before. "Are they going to assist in this investigation?"

"We'll have to let them know so that they don't interfere with anything." It was just courtesy but I didn't trust the Blackburn police. Bangtan would definitely have cops who were on their side.

"How is your relationship with the current members?" A combination of the question and the nicotine made my hand tremble.

"I went to school with some of them. They're rather polite to me because of my father." I'm sure he wanted more detail than that.

"What about your step-brother? Namjoon Kim?"

"It's complicated," I said growing sick of the cigarette in my hand, tossing it to the floor.

"Can you get close to him?" I looked Romero in the eyes and knew what his words meant.

However, with our history, his words took on a whole other meaning in my head. A twisted smile appeared on my lips.

"Yes, I can."

After I met with agent Romero, I retreated to my crappy motel. I sat on my standing Harley in the parking lot and dreaded entering the depressing space. Then I recalled the comment Romero had made about my outfit. I decided against entering, taking his advice, and putting my father's money to good use.

I left my bike parked at the motel and went on foot to the nearby boutique shops. I might have been raised by bikers, but I liked to think I still had decent taste in fashion. At least, when it comes to dressing myself, I'll wear anything as long as I can put my leather jacket over it.

I stared at the racks filled with hanging clothing, the colors arranged in no particular order, made me feel discouraged. There was nothing but low-cut blouses that would slip off the second I hit 20 miles on my bike. I was pleased to find pants that weren't ripped or acid dipped. This particular store also had a fine selection of vegan leather. It wasn't as nice as real leather, but it was certainly cheaper.

"Hey, (Y/n)."

I didn't recognize the male voice at first, but when I turned around, I was greeted by a sunny smile. Hoseok was standing a few feet beside me, and Yoongi was just behind him. "Doing some shopping?"

"Uh, yeah," I responded, placing the brown leather jacket in the pile of clothes I had already picked out. I turned to face them a little more before asking, "What are you guys doing here?"

I specifically referred to the fact that this was a female boutique. The two of them looked humorously out of place in their leather cuts, standing in the small, soft-colored store.

"His sister's back in town," Yoongi responded fairly bored.

"I wanted to get her something," Hoseok explained further. I assumed he had dragged Yoongi along for some reason. "But honestly, I have no idea what to look for."

Hoseok looked a little flustered in his expression. I sensed that he was entertaining the idea of me offering him guidance. I suppose this could be my chance, to put my fashion senses to the test.

"Well, what does she like?" I prompted, hoping he would have some kind of outline for me to think in.

"She's really into fashion but I don't know what size she wears," He said. His hand lazily pushing through the rack of clothing, like he didn’t know where to start.

"If that's the case, you can get her accessories," I told him. I figured that would be easiest for both of us. My eyes peered around the room, remembering having seen some stuff earlier.

I spotted some things hanging on the wall on the other side of the store. I advanced in that direction with Hoseok trailing behind me. We pushed through some racks of clothing to reach the large wall of accessories.

"There are hats and scarves,” I said, reaching out to touch some of the fabrics. Jewelry also hung in packs and pairs, the false metal reflecting the sunlight. “Maybe not this jewelry though, it looks cheap."

Hoseok chuckled as he eyed the things on the wall. Any of the things on the wall didn't seem too horrendous. I even kept my eyes open for anything I might like. Most of the wall was fool’s gold of necklaces and earrings. The bottom shelf held hats, nothing I found particularly interesting though. Some of the items looked to have been savaged by kids who could reach. That only left the scarves. They were dangling, one after the other, rows and rows of them. I came across a silk scarf that was cool to the touch.

"Look at this," I said, getting Hoseok’s attention. It was a square shape scarf, with berry colors of flowers and patterns. "These colors are in right now, since it's almost autumn. The silk also won't stick to her in this California sun."

"Yeah, this looks nice." He sounded satisfied with this item. He fiddled with the material in his fingers and then found the price tag. "$80?!"

I knew that silk scarfs were expensive, especially in a little boutique like this one. I patted his shoulder and gave him a fake empathetic look,

"That's the price of beauty," I joked.

"As if this scarf is going to do all the work," He responded, a little annoyed.

Hoseok settled on the scarf as a gift, regardless. I felt content with the hangers in my hand. It was enough clothing to keep me from looking like an angsty adolescent.

"I didn't see your bike parked in front," Hoseok mentioned as we strolled together to the register.

"I'm staying at the motel nearby," I replied vaguely. Hoseok stood back and allowed me to put my things down first. I greeted the woman politely and turned back to look at them.

"That lousy place down the street?" Yoongi then questioned. Just by the look on his face, he seemed to know exactly which one."That place has roaches."

"Thanks for reminding me," I bantered lightly. I should definitely look for a better place, I thought as the woman began to scan my items. I leaned against the counter, my feet aching a bit from just being up and around.

"I thought Namjoon told you to stay at his place," Hoseok said, recalling the exact moment.

"The prince doesn't always get what he wants," I shrugged.

Then I failed to hide the sneer on my mouth as I found myself to be hilarious. I made eye contact with the other two also, only Hoseok smiled at me, while Yoongi awkwardly nodded his head. I thought they were a strange pair as I searched for my wallet on my person.

"Well, you should check out my new Harley," I was admittedly intrigued by Hoseok's offer. I located my purse in the depths of my jacket and peeped his way. By the look on his face, I could tell he was excited to show off. He was like a child in a candy shop.

"Oh, yeah?" I was interested to find out more. My eyes scanned the monitor of the register for my final price of the clothing.

"Year model," He beamed proudly.

I counted the bills of twenty in my hand before handing them over to the women. I grabbed a hold of the three large paper bags where my purchases had been stuffed into. Hoseok set the dainty scarf on the register next.

"You still got your Deluxe, Yoongi?" I asked out of curiosity, recalling just barely the bike he used as a prospect. He simply nodded his head as an answer.

I had been thinking of getting myself one a while back. I loved vintage style bikes, especially when they had modern engines.

"Yeah well, I left the cruiser for a street bike," Hoseok remarked as we waited for him to finish paying.

I thought a bike could say a lot about a person. I personally liked cruiser bikes over any other style. However, everyone in the club had their own preference. Jimin and I had a similar taste in bikes. We mostly found interest in the same Harleys, except that he owned a Low Rider, which was a billiard blue color.

"What is it? An Iron 833?" I guessed. Thinking, in my head, that it was a well-suited bike for him.

"Close," Hoseok laughed, as he took hold of a smaller version of my bags. We all began to walk toward the exit, the woman wishing us a good day. "It's an Iron 1200, solid black."

I had an idea of what that bike looked like, but I had yet to see the new model for the year. "I just picked it up yesterday morning,"

Yoongi held the door open for me to step out first. Hoseok was still speaking in my ear as they followed out the door of the shop. His talking came to a soft silence as we were faced with the two member's Harleys. Their bikes were parked right in front of the boutique. Except, it appeared that Hoseok's new Harley was being used in a photoshoot.

There was a pair of strangers, a man who was posing on the bike with his motor racer jacket. A woman stood in front of him, trying to capture the image on a cell phone.

"Take the damn picture, already." He cursed at her. The man looked annoyed every time he wasn't posing for the picture.

"I'm trying," The blonde woman responded. She sounded very apologetic like she didn't want him to get upset with her. Like she knew what would happen if he did.

Before I could even think to look at the boys, Hoseok was handing me his shopping bag. I took a hold of it and followed behind them as they approached the scene.

Hoseok walked up the woman as Yoongi circled his bike.

"Here, let me do it." Hoseok smiled at her, gently taking the phone from her hands. The woman looked startled.

"Shit," She was wide-eyed. "I-I told him on to,"

"It's all right," Hoseok was sympathetic to her. I came around to her side, gently taking a hold of her arm and guiding her away from the position.

Hoseok’s eyes rearranged to look at the man. "He looks like a guy that knows how to get what he wants,"

She followed my advice and stepped aside with me. Now seeing her face more clearly, I took notice of the healing injury on her mouth. "Did you do that to her lip?"

Hoseok questioned casually. The guy didn’t seem alarmed by any means, not even when he stepped toward him.

"Bitch has a mouth on her," The man said chuckling. He spoke to Hoseok as if he would understand where he was coming from. "You know how it is, right?"

"Yeah, I do." Hoseok laughed, returning the man's smile. I was painfully aware of how close Hoseok was getting to him. He, who still hadn't moved from his seat on the bike. "So you like Harley's, huh?"

"Well, they look good," He replied, patting a handprint on the metal of the gasoline tank. That made even me. even a little angry. "But I'm more into the slant bikes, for their speed."

I eyed the Kawasaki Ninja 300 that was parked a few spots over. There was no way this couple was from Blackburn- people around here knew better. He was in for a rude awakening.

"Right, right." The courtesy in Hoseok's voice brought an uneasy feeling in my stomach. He looked back down at the phone in his hands and tapped the almost sleeping screen. "Here,"

He said, holding the phone up to take the picture of the man. Yoongi stepped around his bike, standing right beside Hoseok. "Say cheese,"

I almost felt bad for the guy who dared to smile for the picture. After the phone clicked, Hoseok handed the phone to Yoongi.

"That's before," Yoongi muttered loudly.

It wasn't until then that the man noticed something wasn't right.

"Before?" He asked.

Hoseok grabbed his helmet off the handlebar. He gripped it tight in his hand as he used the back of it to swing a blow to the guy's face. The single impact was strong enough to make him drop off the Harley. He landed on the cold, hard ground. Blood was draining from his nose and into his mouth.

"Don't ever sit on another man's bike," Hoseok spat.

"Oh my god," The blondie gasped beside me. You couldn't fail to recognize the giggle in her voice.

"Shut up, bitch!" The man barked as he was still struggling on the floor with pain.

Yoongi stepped in as Hoseok went to take care of his bike. He swung his boot into the man's rib cage, making him groan and spit out his own blood.

"A little respect for the ladies," He warned, squatting down to get a good angle on the man's phone. The shutter of the phone went off again, capturing the man's new state of humble. "That's after."

Yoongi stood back on his legs and allowed the phone to slip from his hands, hitting the floor.

By the time I thought to check on the blondie next to me, I caught her gawking eyes at Hoseok. I was half surprised to see Hoseok returning the look. He leaned forward on his bike,

"So, where are you heading?" He flashed her a killer smile.

"Oh," She blushed under his stare. Her fingers fiddling the ends of her clothing as she tried to remain casual. "Nowhere special,"

"Me too," He smirked. Looking the girl up and down before gesturing his head behind him, "Hop on, angel."

This girl wasted no time hesitating. There was even a little kick in her step as Hoseok handed her the helmet he had just used to break her boyfriend's face. I stepped forward to return Hoseok's gift as she straddled on behind him, slipping the helmet over her face. I lost interest sometime before they exchanged names.

I glanced at the man still laying on the ground. His eyes were wandering over the blood that stained his hands in disbelief. I imagined the blow to the face had left him a little hazy in the head.

"Why don't you let Yoongi give you a ride, (Y/n)?" Hoseok then suggested. The engine of his new bike began to roar.

The thought wasn't well-received in my head. I had a personal ordeal with men seeking to have me on the back of their bikes. Though I was well aware this wasn't the situation, I couldn't help but be hesitant.

"Unless you want to stay with the likes of him," Yoongi pointed out, motioning his head to the unfortunate figure on the pavement.

He gave me the time it took to light his cigarette to think about it. I wasn't afraid of that guy, not after what Hoseok did to him, not after what I had tucked into my jeans. But I figured avoiding the confrontation would be beneficial for everyone.

"Alright," I said stepping off the sidewalk into the street.

Yoongi left his helmet on the handle of his bike for me to grab. Unlike mine, he had a half helmet that would only serve my brain on a platter if we crashed. I adjusted the loose straps around my chin and switched all my bags to one hand.

"Better hold on, princess." Yoongi teased as I mounted the seat behind him.

"Don't call me that," I groaned, starting to get irritating flashbacks that made me doubt my current judgment.

The engine of his Harley trembled under me as I hooked my free hand around his waist.

His Delux wasn't necessarily meant to hold a passenger but we weren't going very far. I had to scoot in closer to his body, to make sure the weight distribution wasn't too off-center. Many inexperienced riders don't know the difference between riding solo and with someone else. In addition to the extra weight, a passenger changes the center of gravity and how the bike rides. Though, I was certain it wasn't the first time Yoongi had company during a ride.

"Gem?" I heard the man call over the rumble of the motor. "Gem!"

We were already backed into the street, Hoseok obnoxiously hit the gas on his bike. Yoongi and I followed closely behind him, leaving the man to stumble onto his feet.

The motel was roughly five minutes away from the shop. Hoseok and his new friend accompanied Yoongi to drop me off. Riding in the back reminded me a lot of being young, I would beg my father to take me for a spin. I would wrap my arms tightly around him, as my head rested on his back. Down these same roads, he would drop me off at school or take me for ice cream. It didn't help that I stared at Yoongi's cut the entire way. Those were some memories I didn't visit very often because they saddened me. Now, more so, than ever.

The Harleys pulled up in front of the motel. Hoseok parked just beside my bike. Yoongi pressed on the break gently, allowing the bike to come to a complete stop, before planting his feet on the ground. I freed his torso from my arm, adjusting my other grip around my shopping bags, before patting his shoulder.

"Thanks for the ride," I said a bit stiffly. I had to depend on Yoongi's shoulder for stability as I attempted to unmount the bike.

"No problem," He spoke, still maintaining a cigarette in his mouth.

He took his hands off the handlebars and rested back in his seat. "I'm sure you could have handled yourself,"

His comment fell ghastly on my ears. I transferred my bags to my other hand, my left-hand aching from having been gripping them as I watched him.

"I mean, I've seen what you could do with that foot." He said, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and between his fingers. He was clearly referring to the night I arrived when I lost my temper with that PB member.

"Yes, well, I have my old man's passion," I replied calmly. Though, something in Yoongi's stare made me feel a bit uneasy. His words were hinting at something else.

"And you're pretty passionate with a gun." The way he looked at me when he said that it was full of doubt. Our eyes correlated, and I felt like his black orbs could see right through me.

"It reminded me of a cop,"

A shiver crept down my spine, and my shoulders fell heavy. My manner of confronting that PB member screamed police to any outlaw. My impulsiveness had kept me from thinking that through.

It was the first time I was being questioned about it. I thought it had slipped by everyone's mind, but not his.

"Did I scare you that bad, Yoongi?" I teased, trying to react the way I normally would. "I'm just cautious like the rest of you,"

Yoongi didn't appear to be swayed by my words. He brought his cigarette back to his mouth, his cheekbones hollowing in as he took a drag. I was debating on waiting for him to say something else, or on trying to keep justifying myself before Hoseok cut into our conversation.

I had never been so grateful for Hoseok's existence.

"Yoongi," Hoseok called out in front of us. We both turned to look at his place still sitting on his Harley.

We then realized that Hoseok was gesturing to the other side of the lot. We followed his gaze over to a set of people by the sidewalk.

They were too far away to distinguish any particular details of their identity. However, it looked like two males that were having an eager conversation. I noticed their head kept turning from side to side, and they couldn't keep still. Just when I began to think that it was nothing, one of them reached out for a handshake.

No one was supposed to deal in Blackburn.

"Jesus Christ," I caught sight of Yoongi flinging his cigarette in a fit. He beat down his kickstand with the bottom of his boot, before making his way off the Harley.

"Looks like PB," Hoseok stated, accompanying Yoongi's action.

When he unmounted his bike, blondie gave him a confused stare as she reached out to touch his hand. Her eyes like a lamb gazed at Hoseok sweetly.

"Stay put, angel." He said, using the touch to bring her in closer. He gently touched her chin and planted a kiss on her busted lip. She smiled, uncertain by his words but agreed, regardless.

"Let's go," Yoongi called, his hand reaching behind him. Without drawing his weaponry, he maintained his hand resting on the handle of the gun under his leather cut. I followed in his footsteps, unsure of what I should do in this situation.

Should I attempt to interfere? Or will there be a shoot out right here?

I set my bags on the floor before catching up to Yoongi who was already by Hoseok's side.

The hooded man remained standing at the end of the parking lot, near the street corner. His customer had vanished but he was still occupied with his cell phone.

Hoseok noticed me trailing behind Yoongi,

"Keep an eye on her," He told me, gesturing his eyes to the scared woman on his motorcycle.

I had to babysit his groupie?

I stopped where I stood, just beside Hoseok's Iron. I could see blondie looking in my direction, but I was watching Hoseok and Yoongi approach the standing figure. I forced strands of hair away from my line of sight. I could feel my heart begin to beat against my chest. My limbs become stiff as stone.

I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do in a situation like this. This was my first event as a field agent, and I was about to let a shootout take place. With a liability sitting right next to me.

"What's going on?" She urged me, but I neglected her completely.

The hooded figure was so distracted he didn't take any notice of the impending threat. The two members quickened their steps, Hoseok dawdling just a little more ahead of Yoongi.

Without warning, Hoseok skulked behind the body, his arms both wrapped tightly around the torso. It was like a kidnapping scene. He used his large hand to shield the man's mouth. The force of Hoseok's legs pulled them back as he was able to dominate him easily. Yoongi kept his eyes peeled for any potential bystanders as they stumbled their way against the wall of the motel. The wall cast a shadow and provided them with coverage from the view of the street.

"Oh my god!" Blondie gasped in disbelief.

She took a hold of my arm in panic. She pulled on my arms as if she wanted us to run. Her frenzy state pestered me greatly.

I yanked her hand from my arm, my fingers clutched around her wrist tightly. She heaved at the pain, I could feel her pulse quickening against my fingertips.

"You make a fucking noise," I hissed at her between my teeth. Her eyes remained full of fear as I pushed her from my hold. "It'll be your last,"

Her eyes followed my actions as I withdrew my Glock from its cover on my hip. She froze with fright, only continuing to remain silent in her place.

I guess I wasn't very good at being a good guy.

The next I looked back, Yoongi was holding the barrel of his gun against the guy's head. He was still fighting against Hoseok's restraint but he was becoming more frantic and less functional. Yoongi's lips were moving, saying words that were too far away for my ears.

Just then, as if things couldn't have been complicated enough; I noticed an oncoming party. Approaching from down the sidewalk was a large white man with a bald head. His arms revealed a clash of tattoos, the only one that I needed to make out was a black swastika peering out his shoulder. He also wasn't shy about the gun tucked in the front of his jeans. He appeared to be searching for his lost friend.

"Shit," I cursed to myself. I had to do something.

I took a moment to look back at blondie, making sure to be as intimidating as possible when I warned her. "Don't move from here,"

I took off immediately, my feet moving at a jogging pace. I attempted to not appear alarmed. I discreetly lead my gun to my side, trying to go unnoticed for the time being. I made it to the end of the parking lot, sitting between me and the sidewalk was a few bushes at waist level.

Yoongi and Hoseok were preoccupied with the man in front of them to worry about their surroundings.

The bald man was only a few steps away from reaching the corner, where he would surely find his buddy taken captive.

I moved closer toward the building, both parties coming more clear in my line of sight. If he makes it around that corner, he could catch them by surprise and gain an upper hand quickly. One of the boys could get injured for sure.

I had to follow my instincts.

I leaned into the bushes for more security. They couldn't have been more than fifteen feet from me. I clutched the metal weight in my hand, raising my arms and seeking to find aim.

Aim small, miss small.

I concentrated on the man's shoulder. I took in a deep breath to steady my hands. He was getting bigger with each step. When I exhaled the breath from my nostrils, I pulled the trigger.

The gunshot rang through the open air and into my ear. Blondie's scream echoed somewhere behind me. The man stumbled on his legs, he clutched his right bicep and his face tore with shock.

Yoongi found me by the bushes. He quickly recognized that my target wasn't far from them.

My victim quickly discovered me at the end of the sidewalk. He reached for his firearm, but at that moment, Yoongi stepped out of the shadow. He pulled two quick shots before the man could ever hold up his gun.

He tumbled onto the floor, his legs giving out at the bullet that pierced his foot. The second one ripped through the flesh of his arm and caused his gun to fall from his grip.

I ran up behind Yoongi, I kept my gun drawn and pointed at the fallen form. With my foot, I stretched for the dropped pistol, dragging it across the cement into my area of reach. I was able to pick it up with ease after that.

The bald man stared at me with hate emitting from his eyes. He spit at my feet.

I noticed Yoongi's eyes on me, as well. It was almost as if he was conflicted by my actions. With a nod of my head, I assured him that I had their back. Whether he believed me or not, he returned to the current situation.

Hoseok remained holding down the other guy who, was still yelling through his muzzled mouth. His face was red and his eyes were watering with anger and fear. Hoseok released his mouth after the bastard threw a bite at his hand.

Yoongi had enough.

He pushed his hair out of his forehead and, in that same step, hurled his fist to the guy's jaw. Yoongi growled at the impact. He left the man silent in Hoseok's arms. His nose was dripping blood, a gash on his cheek also overflowed with the red liquid.

"Tell me where the PB is cooking the meth!" Yoongi demanded.

He cocked his gun and pressed the pistol against the fabric that covered the man's genitals. The man cried, he begged Yoongi to not pull the trigger.

"Now, you son of a bitch!"

Hearing it was hard enough, I couldn't watch it.

"I-In Blackburn! In Blackburn!" He ratted instantly.

My stomach churned at his answer. I looked at the scene unfolding beside me. I could see Hoseok and Yoongi were as startled as I was.

"They've got a lab down Riverside road! I-It's an ugly little red house- you can't miss it!"

Yoongi freed the man's crotch from gunpoint as Hoseok shoved him onto the floor. Hoseok stepped around the man's body and came directly to my side. I maintained my aim on the other guy, who was still sitting on the floor, blood oozing out of three different wounds.

Hoseok rested his hand on my shoulder, gently guiding my arm to lower my gun.

"Let's get out of here, angel." He whispered sweetly.

His words somehow managed to ease the knots of tension in my chest. I took a breath of relief and handed him the extra gun I had confiscated. Hoseok smiled at me and tucked the gun away from my sight. He then put his hand on my back, escorting me back the way we came from.

We had no problem turning our backs to them. They were both disarmed, one was bleeding out, and the other was frightened beyond recognition. There was no need to stick around for the police to show up. If those two guys were smart, they would find a way out of here before they came. The Blackburn policemen would know what happened to them and why.

Yoongi followed right behind us. I could hear his footsteps on the pavement as we strolled toward our bikes. From where we were, I could see blondie was still sitting on Hoseok's Harley.

Except, she appeared to be making a phone call.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." I groaned. Hoseok noticed my gaze and soon saw the same thing I did. She saw us walking in her direction and quickly hung up the phone.

She looked frightened when we finally approached her. She swung her leg over the bike, getting off on the opposite side of us. As if the Harley would keep us from getting to her. I allowed Hoseok to handle her.

"Sorry about that, angel," Hoseok's voice was something dangerous. He leaned his hand on the handle of the bike and smiled. "Who was that?"

"M-My boyfriend," She stuttered, trying to not buy into his enchanting smile, not after what she just witnessed. "He's coming to pick me up."

"Good," I muttered. I locked eyes with her for just a moment while I passed by to pick up my shopping backs. I imagined I had traumatized her enough for one day.

"That's too bad you've got to go," I could hear the suggestiveness in Hoseok's voice.

I walked past Yoongi's bike to my own. I had never been so happy to mount my Harley. The way the engine roared when I turned the gas made me shiver with delight. I walked the bike backward, turning slowly to line up beside Yoongi's. Who was taking advantage of Hoseok's flirting to light up another cigarette.

I followed in his thought and tried to locate the same pack from earlier.

"I didn't expect you to step in like that," Yoongi suddenly muttered as he stood next to his bike.

I took the smoke between my two fingers, putting the pack back on my jacket pocket. I held it between my lips and fiddled with my lighter.

"You didn't think I was trying to arrest you?" I mocked.

I flicked the lighter a few times, a flame igniting out of the chamber. I held the frame between my palms and used my fingers as a shield from the wind.

"I'm trying to thank you, here, princess." He sighed.

I smiled and brought the fire to the end of my cigarette. I sucked in the burning tobacco, quickly flicking the lighter shut.

"Go ahead," I smirked as I held the smoke in my lungs.

I could tell Yoongi didn't do this very often. His brown eyes glared at me from underneath his black lashes.

"Oh, forget it." He hissed, inhaling another drag.

Yoongi held his cigarette between his lips and turned his back to me. He mounted his own bike and called out to Hoseok. "Let's go already!"

Hoseok seemed to be working his magic on blondie all over again. He was still leaning on his bike, and she had taken a few paces closer to him. She wasn't scared anymore.

If it wasn't for the obnoxious speed bike coming down the road, Hoseok would have probably been able to convince her back to his place. The black and green bike came to a screeching stop. His face was covered by a full style helmet, so we weren't able to see the aftermath of his humbling experience.

Hoseok stood up straight, a smirk jeering onto his lips as he viewed the new arrival. Blondie looked over her shoulder and gave Hoseok a sympathetic look. She didn't want to leave now.

Hoseok grabbed her hand, bringing her knuckles up to his lips. He sent her away, drifting on a cloud.

Blondie slipped on her matching helmet, before mounting his motorcycle.

"Ready?" Yoongi asked sarcastically.

Hoseok's smirk remained on his face as he climbed on his bike. He was just on time as we began to hear police sirens off in the distance.

"Ready," He replied.

We had made it to the lot of the House of Cards without any trouble. The other handful of Harley's left in the front indicated a full house inside. Standing along the wall of the entrance, Taehyung held a conversation with Yeonjun as he smoked.

I followed the boys in parking alongside the other bikes. Removing my open-face helmet from my head, I relieved myself of the pressure of its protection.

"Prospect!" Yoongi called from his place, on his Harley, beside me.

I set my kickstand down, resting on my bike as I watched Yeonjun leave Taehyung's side. He was wearing his prospect cut over a dark blue flannel, his feet moved quickly, down the open lot. Taehyung remained against the wall, finishing his cigarette alone.

Once Yeonjun presented himself in front of us, he took a moment to acknowledge me with a smile. Before Yoongi demanded his attention,

"Listen closely," He said, also removing his helmet and slumping in his seat. "You're going to take (Y/n)'s bags, go to the motel on 15th street and check her out."

It made sense that I couldn't stay there after the disturbance. If what the man said was true, it meant that the PB was already taking action against the club. Blackburn wasn't safe anymore.

"Grab all her things and bring them back here."

Yeonjun nodded his head in understanding. Both his hands reached down to feel around in his front pocket. From his right one, he pulled out keys to his Harley.

"Woah!" Taehyung came up behind the young prospect. He reached around him and snatched the keys from his hands. "Who said you can take your Harley?"

Taehyung stuffed the keys into his pocket and wore a grin while his lips still held his cigarette.

"Oh come on, Tae," Yeonjun attempted to not sound too annoyed. He sighed, " It'll be easier if I-"

"I bought you a brand new bike, Yeonjun." Taehyung's voice was teasing. "Don't be ungrateful."

Taehyung took the smoke from his mouth and watched the poor boy give up. I could hear Hoseok chuckle from the other side of Yoongi. I was questioning what they had him doing this time.

Yeonjun left without another word. He walked toward the back of the bar, I lost sight of him as he disappeared around the corner. Taehyung was left with a permanent grin on his mug. He then turned his attention to the three of us that remained on our bikes.

"Where are you all coming from?" He asked. We were an odd combination to anyone who saw us.

"We ran into some trouble while shopping," Hoseok replied. He set his helmet on the seat of his bike as he rose from it. "And we picked her up on the way."

"Lucky me," I quietly joked.

"What kind of trouble?" Taehyung seemed to be more interested in that.

Hoseok sighed as he removed his leather gloves. He stuffed them into his front pocket and slowly advanced toward his friend.

"The kind that we should bring up at church," Yoongi replied.

Hoseok slipped his arms around Taehyung's shoulder and reassured the gravity of Yoongi's words with his slow head bob. His brows furrowed as he adjusted the bandana that was holding his hair back.

"Everyone's here now," Taehyung informed him. "I'll let Joon know to call a meeting."

Yoongi joined the rest of the boys in standing. I was the only one who remained mounting my Harley.

There was no doubt in my mind that they were going to discuss forms of retaliation. With the new information, it would have to be something powerful. It was going to be a declaration of strength. It was already long overdue.

"Check it out," Hoseok suddenly called. He was laughing as his eyes were staring down the back of the bar.

My mouth dropped as I finally got a glimpse of what he was referring too. Literally, on a brand new bicycle, Yeonjun came pedaling down the sidewalk. It was painted black, with rainbow streamers and a gold horn. Yeonjun looked miserable wearing a matching rainbow helmet.

My soft giggle was masked by the loud laughter of Hoseok and Taehyung. They were barely breathing in between the enormous amounts of joy. Even Yoongi failed to conceal the smile on his face as he shook his head in disapproval.

Yeonjun had no other choice but to accept his cruel fate.

He came into the parking lot. He stood on his bicycle right beside me, staring at his laughing elders. I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him my most honest look of compassion.

"I'll take your bags now, (Y/n)." The bitterness in his voice was adorable.

"Thanks, hun." I handed him the shopping bags. "All of my things should be in a backpack on the floor."

He pushed the bags up his arm so that they rested in the crook of his elbow. I also pulled out and handed him my room keys, making sure to give him the money to pay for my short time there.

"Be careful prospect," Hoseok said. He sounded sincere at the beginning of his statement. But he ultimately couldn't hold back his urge to make jokes. "Don't get a speeding ticket."

Taehyung broke out laughing all over again. His arms came hurling at his crime partner. The actual image of Hoseok's words killed him. I had never seen them laugh so hard. They looked like a pair of schoolboys.

"Yeah, yeah," Yoenjun muttered.

He took off, down the parking lot exit without saying goodbye. Hoseok and Taehyung continued to tease him even as he rode off. They yelled out a combination of mockeries and whistles.

"Come on!" Taehyung cheered. "Honk your horn for us!"

A distant sound of honking down the street melted my heart. It sent the two boys into another giggling frenzy. One that continued as they turned to walk toward the entrance. Only through the doors is that it finally dissipated from my ears.

Yoongi and I were the only ones who remained. Like me, he watched the pair wander off into their own world.

"Idiots," Yoongi muttered to himself.

I was amused by his criticism since he participated in their laughter just moments ago. Yoongi slowly turned my way. His eyes noticed that I had failed to make any sudden movements.

"You coming in, princess?" He questioned. I tried to accept the new nickname but continued to not endorse it.

"I will," I said, reaching for the whereabouts of my phone. I held it up for him to acknowledge. "I'm just going to look for a new place to stay,"

He didn't need any other form convincing than that. He gave me a single nod and retreated to follow the boys inside. I watched his slim figure walk down to the entrance. He must have sensed my eyes because he looked back before opening the doors. All I could do was send him a wave and a barely visible smile.

I needed to be alone to make this phone call.

I pressed the phone to my ear and hunched over the fuel tank of my Harley. The ringing made me anxious as I coped to remain calm after everything.

"Yes, Ms. (Y/n), I've just received your final paperwork. You'll be happy to know, the agency has agreed to all your terms just as long-" I had to cut him off.

"That's going to have to be activated as of right now because I have something," I still kept aware of my surroundings, making sure my voice wasn’t too loud.

I looked out for anyone, even just bystanders on the street.

"What did you find out?" His voice asked instantly.

"They have a possible chance for retaliation, with location and everything," I muttered into the phone, still trying to remain vague for several reasons.

"Listen, (Y/n), we need to be there when they make their choice. Stay on the club- when they move, so do we." He spoke to me sternly. His voice wasn't comforting at all. "Do you understand?"

Bangtan's next moves would decide the future of this club. Their alliance with the PB was beneficial. Did they have the necessary tools to cut that deal on their own? Or were they going to turn to Camilo for help?

I sighed.

"Yes,"

Masterlist ≽

#Bangtan MC #bts x reader #ot7 #bts #bts fanfic #bangtan scenarios #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #park jimin #Jung HoSeok #min yoongi #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff

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wondereads · 4 years

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Personal Recommendation (09/27/20)

Seven Devils by Laura Lam and Elizabeth May

Why am I recommending this book?

This is actually a rather recent book, and it’s been calling to me from the new releases table at my bookstore for weeks. Whoever said you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover was wrong because I chose this book specifically because its cover, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Plot 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

The plot revolves around multiple main characters; Eris, Clo, Ariadne, Rhea, and Nyx. Eris and Clo are members of an intergalactic resistance effort who hate each other while Ariadne, Rhea, and Nyx are members of the Tholosian Empire trying to escape their respective cages. They all converge on a Tholosian ship carting a brand new, dangerous material-right before the peace talks of the millennia.

I’ll be honest, the plot isn’t anything groundbreaking. There’s an evil empire hell bent on taking over the world complete with brainwashed soldiers, there’s a struggling resistance complete with an unknown leak, there’s a horrible weapon that they have to stop the empire from using before they wipe out pretty much every alien race, and everyone’s got a traumatic backstory. However, that doesn’t mean it isn’t interesting. It took me a bit to truly get into it (and I was insanely busy this past week), but once I got through all the lovely exposition I devoured it. There’s also some really cool worldbuilding that neatly explains why Tholosians aren’t against committing war crimes and helps them get away with all the crazy ship-stealing and soldier-killing. Just don’t go into this expecting the masterpiece of the century. My only significant complaint was the ending felt very rushed. I was scrambling to keep up.

Characters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

As good as the plot was, it was the characters that really kept me going. It was impressive how the authors managed to give them all hopes, ambitions, and fully fleshed-out personalities despite there being five of them. This book was an average size (large dimension-wise and around 400 pages), but each character now has a special place in my heart.

My personal favorite is Eris; my favorite type of character are the calm, rational ones. Eris joined the resistance after devoting her entire life to the empire because someone incredibly close to her died. Because of who she was in the empire, she has a completely new face and name. She often wonders if she made the right choice, but a big theme in the book is about looking forward, not back. (Spoiler! I love that since her original name was Discordia, her new name is Eris, the Greek goddess of discord End Spoiler)

Clo used to be close with Eris, but they now hate each other. Clo is a mechanic with a prosthetic leg (courtesy of Eris), and she lost her best friend in the resistance to Damocles, prince of the empire. Ariadne is the Oracle’s... apprentice? daughter? It’s unclear. Anyway, the Oracle is the AI that keeps track of everything in the empire and programs that citizens from birth, so you can see why Ariadne is such a convenient and trauma-ridden character. Rhea is essentially the former personal prostitute of Prince Damocles, but she’s also hiding her identity, just like Eris. Finally, Nyx was a decorated soldier until the Oracle’s programming weakened in her, and Ariadne and Rhea worked together to free her so they could all escape.

It seems overwhelming, right? Well, it actually isn’t. Despite the high-action plot, this book is mostly character-driven. Each character has at least two flashback chapters about their history, and how they interact with each other is very realistic. For example, Nyx and Eris don’t trust each other at first, but they respect each other and understand what the other went through as a soldier. I’d honestly love to meet them, but perhaps once the intergalactic conflict is over.

Writing Style 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I think one of the benefits of having two authors is you get some unique voices in there. I wonder if they split up the characters or collaborated on everything. The book has a not uncommon layout, chapters that switch between different points of view. Personally, my favorite points of view were Nyx and Eris. They’re both very cool, rational characters, and I found it easier to read from their perspectives than the others. I also thought their ways of revealing their backstories and personal feelings were more subtle than the other three. There were some points, especially from Ariadne’s point of view, where I thought her expression of feelings could have been better integrated to her actions. However, other than that and the rushed ending, I think Lam and and May have a wonderful thing going on. I hope they decide to write more together!

Meaning 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I think the main message in this book was about doing things yourself. All the characters don’t want to be fighting an evil empire. Ariadne, Nyx, and Rhea mention multiple times that they just escaped and they’d rather by seven galaxies away from the Tholosians. However, if they don’t do it, no one will. It’s further enforced by the Tholosian form of religion, the seven devils. Their gods represent war, honor, survival, fear, agony, salvation, and, of course, death. None of them represent love or life or anything nice in general. It is up to regular, living people, not some all-powerful gods, to make things right. It may not be what they want to do, but they know they have to do it.

Overall 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I really enjoyed this book. It was full of revelations, action, and great relationships, and, despite being a cliffhanger, there’s still a note of hope in all of them. Also, talk about a feminist work. All the main characters are females (except Cato, but he’s there for like fifty pages at the end), the leader of the resistance is female, they have a variety of skills, personalities, and appearances, and there’s even an LGBT relationship (not telling you who!). As someone who needs worthwhile female characters in her books, this was perfect. There’s supposed to be two books, and I kind of regret reading this so soon because now I have to wait ages for the next one! I would recommend this book for people who like science fiction, feminist literature, and traumatic character backstories.

The Authors

Laura Lam: http://www.lauralam.co.uk/

Elizabeth May: https://www.elizabethmaywrites.com/

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose, and you can learn more about me here!

#books #recommendations #reviews #seven devils #laura lam #elizabeth may #science fiction #sci fi #lgbt #feminist literature

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entracteofevil · 4 years

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AkunoP Question and Answer

Entr’acte of Evil, page 146-149

A raging barrage of questions concerning the “Daughter of Evil” novels directed to AkunoP!! Were your questions answered?

Q: Please tell us how you felt when the “Daughter of Evil” novels were made into a book.

A: Oh, not too shabby for me!

Q: Between Cloture and Wiegenlied, what is your favorite scene?

A: The scene where the princess and the servant switch clothes…would be too predictable for me to say, so instead it’s the scene where Clarith says goodbye to Yukina. I think it really shows how much Clarith has grown.

Q: The fans have all made their own theories considering the songs that have been uploaded; what do you think about those?

A: I think they’re quite interesting. But occasionally their theories are a lot closer than they think, and I get a bit nervous.

Q: Please tell us some plans you have for the third installment that you’re preparing to release.

A: There are characters that didn’t stand out much in the previous works who will play a greater role, and some where that’s not the case.

Q: Give a brief comment to all your readers!

A: Take it easy and enjoy the work!

Regarding demons, magic, and religion

Q: To what extent are the vessels of deadly sin and the existence of demons known about to the world at large?

A: Among the average person they are hardly acknowledge at all as things that actually exist; the situation is largely that either they are completely unknown, or else they are known only as fairy tales. However, amongst the nobility, royalty, and those related to the church there are a few people who are well versed on these things.

Q: Is there some reason why you changed the spelling of “Gluttony” in the Seven Deadly Sins from “boushoku” to “akujiki”?

A: There were various reasons to it, such as “akujiki” having a nicer sound than the other, but the main and simplest answer to give would be just, “I made a goof, tehee ♥”.

Q: The demons are composed of both their real body and the vessel—does that mean that even if the vessel is destroyed via some means, as long as their real body exists they haven’t been definitively dealt with?

A: It’s rather more that, strictly speaking the demon’s true body is always in the vessel, and what rampages outside of it is little more than an offshoot of that. By all rights if you destroyed the vessel, or else sealed it, the demon itself would similarly lose its powers; thus, while the offshoot outside would maintain its powers for a time, eventually it would degrade.

Q: Do the demons of deadly sin have some sort of goal?

A: Originally the demons had no defined loyalties or goals, simply existing to cause disasters; interestingly, however, by possessing human beings the demons have a slight influence on their own minds, and start to change. I can’t deny that there is a possibility that this has caused each demon to have their own goals.

Q: At the end of the day, just what sort of technique is the “Clockwork Secret Art”?

A: A secret one♥

Q: Religious factions like the Held Sect and Levin Sect were mentioned in the work; are there any other religions?

A: As for other sects at least, there is the “Behemo Sect”. It’s a religious faction that’s only in one region of Asmodean. It has a very strong trend towards demon worship, and there are few countries that publicly accept it. Practicing it in countries outside of Asmodean is a crime.

Q: How was Elluka going to use the “Very Amazing Octopus” if there hadn’t been that big fire?

A: Curiosity killed the cat, you know.

Q: Regarding the “Very Amazing Green Onion” that showed up in the story, are the magical tools something that sorcerers made?

A: The simple ones were made by sorcerers at large, but the production and repair of a high-grade magical tool like the “Very Amazing Green Onion” is only possible for people of the “clockworker” profession. Incidentally, the very existence of “clockworkers” is unverified by this time period. In other words, Elluka can’t repair an expired “Very Amazing Green Onion”.

Q: Are deadly sin vessels that have the demon sealed a type of magical tool?

A: The deadly sin vessels didn’t come about artificially, so they aren’t magical tools. With one exception…

Regarding the world

Q: In the story, each country is given a nickname that’s a color; ex, Elphegort has “Country of Green”, Lucifenia has “Country of Yellow”, Marlon has “Country of Blue”. Do Asmodean and Holy Levianta have a particular nickname and hair color to them?

A: The link between the country’s nickname and hair color is the case for “The Country of Green” Elphegort only. Lucifenia does have a lot of yellow haired people in it, but there is a very strong theory that the origin of “Country of Yellow” lies in the fact that the soldiers led by the country’s founder, Lucifenia I, wore matching yellow armor. “Country of Blue” is simply because the country is surrounded by ocean. Asmodean and Levianta don’t have any particular nicknames.

Q: Chartette has a scene where she’s insisting to Riliane that a book is really interesting; what is the average entertainment like in this world?

A: Works like poetry and books are favored by those of high status. It’s a bit unexpected for a commoner like Chartette to be engrossed with one, but as she serves at the palace she’s been able to study texts, I would imagine. Music and opera are popular among both the poor and the wealthy.

Patronage for the arts has flourished in Elphegort in particular, to the point where those of high skill are supplied with stipends from the country itself. Keel having Michaela work as a diva was perhaps done with those stipends in mind.

Q: Are there other gods like Held and spirits in other countries?

A: It’s thought that there aren’t. Held leaves the ground world later, and so that means that it has completely pulled away from the hands of the old era gods.

Q: There aren’t a lot of sorcerers around, but are there different varieties and rankings like Elluka’s “Court Sorceress” rank?

A: There are stories that in the old “Magic Kingdom Levianta” they were finely divided up into rank depending on their abilities. In the present era they just arbitrarily come up with names as they want.

Regarding the characters

Q: Who is the character that you like the most, and please tell us the reason why.

A: That would be Miss Mariam, who was conceived as such an excellent character by being one of the Three Heroes, and yet in practice was hardly of any help at all.

Q: The sorceress Elluka has lived a very long time—how did she obtain the large amount of money that she handed to Michaela, or her own travel fare?

A: It stands to reason that because she is in an upper-class position in Lucifenia (one of the Three Heroes), she naturally receives a high salary. Aside from that she has her own connections in other countries and patrons, though there’s little chance of her using those with her current standing.

Q: Keel and Kyle seem to have a fairly friendly relationship; please tell us about their friendship and how they met.

A: A still surly Keel, and Kyle in the peak of his rebellious years. The two are swept up into an action adventure in Marlon the likes of which has never been seen before!! –There was that sort of thing, though that’ll have to wait for another time.

Q: Leonhart served the country as one of the Three Heroes for many years, and had many conflicts in that; what did he think of Riliane?

A: Leonhart being tough on Riliane was out of a paternal desire to see her become a decent queen someday. He certainly didn’t hate her. Perhaps he rather saw traces of the woman he loved in Riliane. …Though that on its own had the scent of danger to it.

Q: In the finale scenes of “Cloture of Yellow”, Chartette faces off against Mariam, one of the three heroes, in a maid duel with a huge sword in hand; has she done any training in swordplay?

A: She has not. This is her first time wielding a sword. Frankly, she is a prodigy. And there is something a bit off about her father giving her such a massive sword, with that in mind (She is ridiculously strong, albeit).

Q: Ney is in a very key position as the “villain” from novels yellow to green, but did she have any role in the songs?

A: Characters like Ney, Clarith, and Chartette were there from the beginning. But I did a lot of rewriting on their design and roles. Ney was originally conceived as being in the position of the twins’ older step-sister.

Q: Do you have any plans to write about Gast’s younger sister “Sarah” sometime in the future?

A: If I have an opportunity to.

Q: Now that Riliane has become Rin, will she remember all of the sealed memories of her past, including those of Allen?

A: She probably will.

directory

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tomproctor03-blog · 4 years

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Weekly History essay writing: Week 2

Week 2

How significant was religion in succession disputed from 1534 to 1558

The Allegory of the Tudor succession, clearly epitomises how important religion was to the succession. Even though the painting is not in real-time, it represents what time was like. On the right you have the Protestants of Edward VI and Elizabeth I and this shows an innocuous and amicable setting, however on the left it shows the Catholics, with Mary I and Philip II, in which it shows a dangerous setting, in which this is emphasised by the use of Mars, the God of War. This picture shows how important religion was, to the extent that it was able to separate a family, in which one religion was prioritised, and this is also shown with Henry being closer to the Protestants, and simply the Catholics have been ostracized away, showing how succession did factor in the religion of that person. Religion was also significant and that was because of the reformation. This is because after the reformation, this did set-up England to be a one-religion country, in which before the reformation it was a very politique society, showing how the reformation acted as a catalyst what would change the line further down (with Edward’s decision between Mary and Elizabeth). The reformation is key because it sets off a reaction that resulted in the 1536 Pilgrimage of Grace, but the most important idea would be the 1540 excommunication of Henry VIII by Pope Paul III. This affected the succession because it now meant Henry had nothing to lose, in which he knew that Mary’s theology would not work in this monarchy. However, it is important to know, and this is emphasised by Historian JJ Scarisbrick in his book “Henry VIII”, that even though the reformation was occurring, Henry VIII was still a Catholic, and that was shown throughout. For example, when Thomas Cromwell brought in the 10 articles (replacing transubstantiation to consubstantiation for example), Henry thought that he was going too fast and introduced the 6 articles, bringing back Catholic ideas, like the Veneration of Mary, images, celibacy of Saints and transubstantiation. Also Henry was seriously pious, utilising the idea of the Divine Right of Kings (that God chose him to be the King) throughout his reign. But also when Henry read in the Bible about Leviticus 18:16 (what said his marriage to Catherine was besmirching his brother) it changed him mentally. Historian G.R. Elton writes in “England under the Tudors” that “It was one of the main factors that led Henry to wanting to annul his marriage.” The fact of the matter is that with these pieces of evidence it showed that Henry was serious about religion, so when it came to successors, especially before 1537 when Edward was not alive, religion would have been the top of the key. Furthermore, to show how important religion was, is the marriage to Anne of Cleves. The main reason why Henry chose to marry Anne of Cleves was to join with the only major Protestant force at this time (through the hard work of Luther and his reforms), showing how a marriage (as sacred as it was) was decided by religion (and the work of Hans Holbein the Younger), simply showing how much succession depended on religion. Also another reason why religion was so important was because of the factions, especially throughout Edward VI. This is because with Edward coming to the end of his life he needed to pick an heir, and at the start he said in his “device for a succession” that one of the grey’s sons (Jane, Elizabeth or Mary) would become King, but at the end he picked Jane, and this clearly showed the religious importance. Also on the topic of Royal wills, in Henry’s will it was almost indoctrinated by Protestants, showing because Stephen Gardiner and Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk, two main Catholics, were both omitted from the will and placed in the Tower, showing how important religion was at this time, and how it reciprocated onto succession. Out all of the female women, he picked the most, as A.F. Pollard described it, “ardent and dutiful Protestant”, and that is due to the fact that the main person who was running the court was of John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland. He was powerful, showing this with his leadership with defeating Robert Kett in Norfolk, in which Elton said “Wawrick (his title at the time) crushed Kett”, but also he showed his power through crushing Scotland at Pinkie Cleugh, and through successfully neutralizing the power of the Duke of Somerset in 1550, what lead to his execution in 1552. Basically, he was the Thomas Howard, 2nd Duke of Norfolk, equivalent of Protestant England, in which he replicated this with his religion. Historian G.R.Elton describes Dudley as a “man who switched religion too much depending on the monarch at that time”, and throughout the reign of Edward, it was Protestant. He showed this power to marry his son, Sir Guildford Dudley to Lady Jane Grey, and ultimately a surge in religion, created by Dudley, acted as a spotlight that attracted Edward to make her successor to the throne, showing how significant religion was. Another example would be Mary’s marriage to Philip. Now even though the Venetian Ambassador Michieli said that Mary was “extraordinarily in love” with Philip, it was all down to religion. To show this, when Wyatt’s rebellion was put down, Mary even placed her step-sister Elizabeth Tudor in the Tower of London for 2 months and then placed her under house arrest at Woodstock palace. But also on Philip’s side his ambassador said that: “the marriage was concluded for no fleshly consideration, but in order to remedy the disorders of this kingdom and to preserve the Low Countries." That is also linked to religion because of threat that Calvinism had in the low countries with William the Silent and others, and this potential threat was displayed with the Dutch Revolt, in which many Historians agree saying that Philip wanted a Catholic baby so that he could also carry on putting down Protestant surges.

On the other hand, there are also other things that were significant towards the succession. The first idea would be gender. There had not been a Queen, since Mary, that was undisputed for 400 years, and that was Queen Matilda. Personally, I think that because of the problems that Matilda created along with her relative of Stephen, what resulted in a civil war, now known as the anarchy, this created this fixated impression that women were unable to rule the throne.Chroniclers described the period as one in which "Christ and his saints were asleep" and Victorian historians called the conflict "the Anarchy" because of the chaos. Going back to the Allegory of the Tudor succession, it is also important to look at Edward compared to the other two children of Henry VIII. Edward is small, Mary and Elizabeth are not, Edward looks inexperienced, with a lack of education compared to the much older Mary and Elizabeth. Edward is the closest to Henry VIII, holding the globus cruciger, symbolising the importance of gender. Also in the official Tudor family photo by an unknown artists, Henry’s arm is around Edward, and Mary is almost ostracized away from him, and that was the same in real-life. Gender was a very interesting topic, in the patriarchal society full of misogynistic men. A perfect example would be John Knox’s “First Blast of the Trumpets against the monstrous regiment of women.” Knox said "God, by the order of his creation, has [deprived] woman of authority and dominion" and from history that "man has seen, proved, and pronounced just causes why it should be.” Gender was also important for Henry VIII in which it has been argued that it is the main reason why he wanted an annulment, in which he broke from the Catholic church in 1532 just so he could gain a male. A monarch who wrote: “The defence of the seven sacramets” against Luther’s 95 theses in 1520, what led to Pope Leo X giving him the title “Defender of the Faith”, and the same monarch who burnt William Tynedale at the stake for the translation of the Bible into English, was the same person who broke from Rome, just to get a male heir, showing the importance. Another factor is legitimacy, and that was shown with firstly when Edward (with Northumberland) was writing “devise for a succession” he made it clear that the heir had to be legitimate, and that showed the simple importance of legitimacy, what restricted Mary for a smooth transition over to be the first Queen to be coronated. The importance of legitimacy is shown through the 3 act of successions (1533. 1536 and 1544). Also in the time of Henry VIII, legitimacy was important for the throne and that was because Henry (in 1534) had a son by the name of Henry FitzRoy, but it was illegitimate with a lady in his courts named Elizabeth Blount. To show the gravity of this topic, Henry placed in his diary: “this legitimacy problem will be the bane of my life.” Also another factor that could factor Tudor succession, could be race. As the reformation continued throughout time, this leads to certain reformers becoming the most popular, in which the main one would be Martin Luther. Luther wrote about Jews very provocatively, using very pejorative language against them. At first, he thought that Jews were just ostracized away from Christianity, and that they needed to be invited into Christianity, in which he wrote: “ That Jesus Christ Was Born a Jew”, however after Jews ignored him, this is when he wrote the crude work of “The Jews and their lies”, in which he inspires people to burn down synagogues, killing jews, stop Rabbits from giving sermons and also to burn the Torah. This work was very influential to others at the time, for example a Jewish Journalist named Josel of Rosheim asked for the Strasbourg government to ban the book, however, they thought it was great so they did not. However they were forced to ban it when a Priest told people to kill Jews during a sermon. However, in Tudor England (especially during the reign of Edward VI) there were a lot of Jews, but also when Catharine of Aragon came to England a lot of black people came to England, and subsequently the works of a Protestant had an effect on a Protestant country, in which a lot of Jews were sent out of the country, and that did affect the throne, and that is argued by Historian John Guy, not in his books, but in general, lecturing, that Jews were linked to the throne, especially a lot of males that were linked to the Brandon family, but because of the “sin” that having a Jew in your family was, a lot of them were exiled or just wiped away from their history, taking them out of the succession conversation, and this did subsequently make it harder for Edward VI, because there was no male heir, ready for when he dies. It is hard to understand how effective Luther’s “The Jews and their lies” was, and just to show the effect it had, many Historians, including Diarmaid MacCulloch and Daniel Goldhagen have argued that Luther was actually the influencer for the Nazi Party, in which for example, Heinrich Himmler frequently quoted Luther, and the official Nazi Newspaper, Die Sturmer, would also quote Luther from that book. Reinhold Lewin writes that anybody who "wrote against the Jews for whatever reason believed he had the right to justify himself by triumphantly referring to Luther." According to Michael, just about every anti-Jewish book printed in the Third Reich contained references to and quotations from Luther.Furthermore, the editor for Die Sturmer, Julius Streicher was given a fuirst edition of the book for his birthday, in whicht he same copy was placed in a glass cabinet during the Nuremberg rallies. On the topic of birthdays, many Historians argue that the reason why Kristallnacht was started on the 11th November was because it was the birthday of Martin Luther, showcasing the influence of Luther, and how much that would have been magnified and projected in the 16th century, and in England (a historically racist country who also historically hated Jews, but still had them).

Overall I think religion was the most important factor and that is because of the fact that it stayed relevant throughout the reign of Henry VIII to Elizabeth I. Historian G.R. Elton writes in his “Reformation Europe”, that: “Europe in the early to mid 16th century remains a magnet to student and reader alike”, and “it remains the most gripping Tudor time topic to date”, showing how indecipherable it would be to think how important and salient it was at that time, and this was all opened up and marshalled by Luther’s opposition to the Papal Authority, and as this surged into Switzerland with Zwingli, Strasbourg with Bucer, Geneva with Calvin, Scotland with Knox and many more, England was also grasped by it. When talking about the Duke of Somerset in his book, Historian G.R. Elton described England as the “Mecca for reformers”, and a lot of people came in order to lead a much more tamer country, for example Peter Martyr from Italy and Bucer from Strasbourg. The antithesis of this was gender, because i think that Gender was only paramount until the start of the Mary’s reign. At the start people thought that Mary would be pushed to the side when she was to marry an English man (for example like Reginald Pole or Edward Courtney), but when she married Philip II nothing changed, because of the acts passed by Parliament, and to show this lack of change, on the coins at the time, Mary was in front of Philip II, as if he was a concierge to her, and this idea of Women being on the throne was still seen as weird, in which they were called, “she-wolves”. However, the eventual reign of Mary for 5 years and then Elizabeth for 45 years, definitely nullified and assuaged the problem of Gender. Also on the topic of race, many Historians disagree on the influence of Luther. Johannes Wallmann argues that Luther's writings against the Jews were largely ignored in the 18th and 19th centuries, and that there was no continuity between Luther's thought and Nazi ideology and Uwe Siemon-Netto also agreed, arguing that it was because the Nazis were already antisemites that they revived Luther's work. Without the religious schisms and the now the radical view of religion, with the rising of the Anabaptist, things like Gender and race would not have been a problem. A prime example, is that many scholars like Erasmus and Johannes Oecolampadius argued that Genesis 2:22 showed that women were inferior to men, due to the fact that Adam came before Eve and that she was created from him, and with that idea, it plagued this idea of women not being able to rule, and even though the rule of Matilda has been attributed to the patriarchal, the genesis 2:22 idea has always been theorised, but because it was in the time of the reformation this acted as a catalyst, meaning now more people understood the bible (through the introduction of catechisms and vernacular language and the Vulgate), and when society says something, the monarchy usually will conform to it or face it, showing the influence religion had on the succession line.

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werevulvi · 5 years

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Okay I feel like I just got very close to what's going on with me genderwise and why I've been spinning in circles about it so much. Especially lately, but also always. Keep in mind most of this text is just me ranting in attempts to try to figure myself out. It’s not definitive or a conclusion. Input is however always welcome. I think I would have been nonbinary if I hadn't become a radfem and no longer identify with gender as a concept. My personality/brain is very androgynous and I literally can't say it's of any specific gender. The question, of course, is does anyone's brain even have a gender? Well I'm no expert but I think it's possible that some people do, or rather that they come to the conclusion that they do. In my world, gender is ideological and belief-based rather than factual. It's a belief that I don't have, but I'm generally fine with others having it. Just like I'm fine with people believing in God, or any other deities. Cause I mean heck, I believe in Satan, so...

But I like and want for general society to be sex-based, not gender-based; just like I want for all societies to be secular. Cause gender hurts people (women, mostly) just like religion does too.

My dysphoria is pretty much telling me I should be partially both male and female (as opposed to neither sex), so from that I could theoretically come to the conclusion that my gender is nonbinary, now in my detransition, if I believed in gender. But since I don't, I simply scratch the concept of gender altogether and only go by my biological sex instead. Which is, transitioned or not, and regardless of what I wanna look like, still female. And it's possible that since my dysphoria is at least half okay with me being female, that could be why I'm also totally fine with seeing myself as a woman, cause even my dysphoria doesn't entirely oppose of that. It just partially wants me to me a man as well. Somehow.

And I've always been much more concerned with my physical/bodily situation than however I'm perceived socially, anyhow. But simply "getting over" being perceived as a man 100% of the time when my brain just goes against that, is not so easy. Sometimes I like it but not by every new person I meet. I want to be consistent, but for unknown reasons I hate neutral terms and the "they" pronouns. I guess ideally I'd be a "he/she" but I'd absolutely hate being such an obnoxious brat as to even kindly ask people to switch around terms and pronouns for me. Like I'd hate myself for it and feel like a complete burden. So I stick to only female terms/pronouns for convenience and consistency.

It's not that I see myself as a man one day and a woman the next, but rather my dysphoria says I'm somehow both a man and a woman at the same time, always, and it doesn't really shift around or change. Although on some days I do connect more or less to one or the other, but always acknowledge both. You know those old depictions of Satan painted as half a man and half a woman? (Usually with a goat head, but ignore that part.) Yeah something like that, but more coherently blended together, like equally mixed on both sides. However I still like and want for my body to be predominantly female, I just also like it having gone through both a female and a male puberty. It's like I connect with both sexes, but I know I'm not actually both. I'm just female. And perhaps I would ideally want to be seen as a "both male and female" person, but I'm also totally fine with being seen as just a medically masculinised woman, cause that's what I literally am. We're back to scientific basics here. What my dysphoria says is a deluded fairytale; what I say is let's be rational. And I don't want to be seen as or consider myself as something I am not. Not anymore. "I want to live in the real world" as Neo says in The Matrix movie when he takes the red pill. But when it comes to labels... yeah, no there really isn't a term for someone like me, who de-/transitions in a nonbinary way but sticks with sex-based terms/words and doesn't agree with gender ideology. FTX, perhaps? No, I hate that one too, cause it looks like I tried to erase my sex instead of enhancing it and making it... merrier. Also, is it just me or don't most nb people who medically transition seem to quite often actually want to look genderless, rather than double the dose? As in wanting to look both male and female at the same time. Well, just thinking about getting anything removed from my body gets me anxious... I can't imagine what it's like to want no sexed traits, and the thought of it makes me a little woozy. Not to judge others' dysphoria, just saying I so can NOT relate to that, what so ever. Cause I guess that's the total opposite of my own dysphoria.

But anyhow, because I don't go by any gender identity, or because I ask to be gendered in accordance with my bio sex, I've little in common with the popular circles of nonbinary people who only seem to be interested in calling out accidental misgendering, making up ridiculous fake genders and neo pronouns, claiming to be "non-dysphoric trans" or whatever the fuck have you. I kinda don't wanna associate myself with that kind of clownery. And let's not even get into what I think of their harmful fake-feminism views that they often drag along with their gender views... Probably the only things I've in common with (some of) those nb people is having atypical dysphoria and wanting more gender neutral bathrooms/locker rooms available. And yeah, less harrassment of gnc people in society, please. Oh well, being part of any pack has never really been my thing. It's always tempting from the outside, but suffocating from the inside. But my real pet peeve is that all trans labels are based on the notion that everything starts with gender identity, rather than gender dysphoria. And I guess that's the thorn in my side. That I don't like how gender-obsessed everything has become. I'd be embarrassed to say "I'm nb" if someone would ask me if I'm a man or a woman. Just like trans isn't a "third gender" I don't think nb is either, but people really do treat it as such. I don't even see transitioning as becoming or transforming myself into something I wasn't born as. I don't see myself as any less female than any women who don't wanna look partially male like I do.

But fact of the matter is a huge reason why I now feel so super comfortable to just go bat shit crazy with my hyper-femininity is because I've got my now additional maleness to balance it out with. I feel very balanced and harmonic with my maleness and femaleness, my femininity and masculinity, or I would if only I also had boobs again. When I imagine that I do (which I do at least several times per day, cause it just happens), I feel so right that there are no words for it... gender euphoria? Those might be the words I'm looking for!

I've been considering possibly just calling myself nonbinary though, for simplicity's sake, even though I don't like that term or associating myself with that community. Cause few outside of radfem circles seem to understand what I am at all, as a dysphoric detrans woman, and I feel desperate for a simple thing to call myself that would make my communication easier. That is why I'm hunting labels, with probably very apparent desperation, cause now I've so thoroughly entangled myself in a web of not being able to communiate my situation to either genderists or normies. Perhaps I could use the slightly incorrect label nb as a crutch or foundational brick, and then explain that despite what my dysphoria is telling me I consider myself a woman, lesbian, she/her, etc because of my female biology.

I dunno, though. I hate it all. Why did I put myself in this situation to begin with?! I want gender abolished yesterday. It's giving me a headache.

#rantings #gender thoughts #nonbinary #radfem #dysphoric woman #detransition #labels suck when i cant communicate without them #dysphoria #please do remember im new to radfem if you wanna rag on my word choice

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tsainami · 5 years

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wip prep tag #2

tagged by: @isherwrites tysm!! sorry it took this long to get to.

rules: answer the questions and then tag as many writers as there are questions answered (or as many as you can) to spread the positivity! even if these questions are not explicitly brought up in the novel, they are still good to keep in mind when writing.

last time i did this it was for cheat (which you can find here), this time i’ll do grave mercy.

FIRST LOOK

1. describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch).

a girl against a theocracy (but for its religion) and a boy against its religion (but for the theocracy) who have very ? confusing ? backgrounds ? (and are vampires) somehow end up meeting while investigating a cannibalistic angel. they end up doing something ridiculous together: unraveling ‘god.’

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

as far as i can see where the plot’s going, probably a trilogy.

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

vampires. religious ones! in priestly/nun-ly (not a word) clothing! which comes in mostly white or bright colors because they’re not fans of black vestments. black armor yes, black clothes no. and since there’s vampires, there’s blood. but also gore. and also cults. and devils, angels, monsters, conspiracy! plus a lot of french gothic architecture.

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

book of the ancestor trilogy by mark lawrence. if you’ve read it, it’s probably obvious.

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel.

i haven’t done any edits for this a whole either rip. it’s not much right now, but here’s its pinterest board.

MAIN CHARACTER

6. Who is your protagonist?

my main protagonist is a girl called ines nenci. she’s a novice at a convent known (or, unknown) to reform young girls whose faith are tainted.

7. Who is their closest ally?

her closest friend is this younger novice named dafne who she constantly worries about and is very protective of. she views dafne as her closest ally, and throughout the story she retains that sentiment. objectively speaking though, it’s probably reuven. after they meet and her fight or flight response when it comes to him calms down lol.

8. Who is their enemy?

the theocracy. namely the ava santi who sits at its head. and also herself.

9. What do they want more than anything?

this is going to sound anticlimactic maybe, but emotional comfort and security. ines really just wants to stop having to be scared all the time. stop having to hold on to anger and allow herself to finally express her hurt and pain after all the years she’s spent oppressing it. she wants to depend on someone and be able to trust them instead of just being the one depended on while in truth she’s just being manipulated. she honestly just. wants. inner peace (lol).

10. Why can’t they have it?

there are many reasons. let’s start with a few minor obstacles in the shape of people who keep her alive solely for the purpose of using her to further their ambitions: 1. the abbess of the convent. this chick keeps ines in her house only to serve as a tool in her plot of overthrowing the theocracy. the convent’s pretty much a facade for this group of heretics to eventually hold some sort of rebellion. but they’re being really dirty about it. 2. the ava santi (aka ye olde pope). he killed her dad. he was also supposed to kill her, but this amazing idea popped up in his brain and he decided “nay, send her to the convent dear men o’mine.” reasons for this is because a) he hates that fucking place and has wanted it dead for years and b) he can’t touch that fucking place because politics and also One Deep and Dark Secret that would cost his position and probs life should it be exposed. 3. the so-called cannibalistic angel she meets, whose reasons for using her are too spoilery to share at the moment. but it’s got something to do with the one ‘god’ of their faith.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

that she’s cursed. it’s repeated a lot in the first chapter, actually. her dad’s death and some of his last words really drilled it in her. and it makes sense, because her existence is scorned by the faith and she learns more and more about this (with the misfortune of having to witness her papa burn ffs as lesson 1 of all things) as she grows up.

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

she’s got thick, wavy black hair. pretty long (goes up to mid-back i think) and it’s always braided and then tied up into a low bun. she’s always wearing her habit (which is white) and even if she isn’t she tries to wear something close (usually white too) because it makes her feel secure. she has a black cloak she wears when she goes walking around the capital or the woods (that she really and i mean really knows how to work, especially when she’s killing something so not too much of nasty stuff stains her clothes). usually armed to the teeth. hidden blades everywhere. though you can’t really see that i guess.

sometimes, she carries a sword.

PLOT POINTS

13. What is the internal conflict?

ines is moroi, which is a race that is treated little better than rabid dogs are in montevena. there aren’t many moroi in existence any more because of wars that involved genocide long ago + the fact that as moroi all you have to do to get sentenced to death sometimes is to accidentally bump into someone. anyway, her internal conflict mostly revolves around her struggle between hating what she is and yet having to depend so heavily on it. she wants to separate herself from being moroi, but that’s impossible since she has to face it everyday. even if people weren’t there to remind her, her body can’t lie. she really, really hates it but there’s no other choice but to live with it.

14. What is the external conflict?

everyone is against the theocracy for their own reasons and the theocracy is against everyone. the teams switch up sometimes though and things get wild when a cannibalistic angel appears and the OG residents of the world, the devil-gods, get weaved into the mayhem (did i mention this takes place in an au hell? because it does).

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

if ines is put through what she went through as a child, having her world break like that (it wasn’t only her dad’s death, it was all the things about the world she was totally clueless about because up until then her dad had limited her knowledge of it, so her whole life was a big fat lie), it would be B A D. the people currently capable of hurting her that way is an older nun from the abbey named sister aura and dafne.

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

huge spoilers so i’ll be vague. something monumentally of relevance to not just ines or reuven, but the whole world is a total sham. also if you can believe it or not, aliens are involved (but it totally isn’t what it sounds like lmao).

17. Do you know how it ends?

a little, but not too well right now.

BITS AND BOBS

18. What is the theme?

there’s an absolute truth to everything. but a lot of the times it gets corrupted by people with ill-bred intentions. that doesn’t mean the truth itself is horrible, though. so it’s always good to discriminate and keep in mind that, just like that guy who yells about global warming but clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about while he goes ‘round the world in private jets that secrete shit tons of shit, sometimes we don’t know everything either.

19. What is a recurring symbol?

i have no idea. (yet)

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

a city-state called montevena which is loosely based off of vatican city but much more french gothic and kinda creepy. later the story moves through parts of canza, one of the three sanctified states that reuven is from.

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

yes. predominantly one that occurs in a cave.

22. What excited you about this story?

the development of the characters. particularly ines, reuven, gabriele, dafne, hazael, mirta and other supporting characters (including the abbess and the ava). it’s just... so interesting. i low-key had a mindfuck about it.

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!

a copy paste from my previous post on this:

my method is freak out! write a sentence. think about useless things (why would a pigeon be at the city square at night? that doesn't make sense? is it a normal pigeon? what is the purpose of its life?). try not to get distracted (i always do though) and write another sentence.

the day i’m 92 is the day i finally have two fully written novels with my name plastered all over them in my arms.

TAGGING: @brekkerings @pilipalea @apollchiles (if you guys haven’t done this yet) and anyone else who wants to.

#wip prep tag #wip: grave mercy #my back hurts. from writing in this cursed position. send help

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mcrololo · 5 years

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According to my memory this backstory was two episodes long but I couldn’t have been more wrong lmao. Anyway, wow, the lost fable, amirite?

Constructive criticism under the cut.

Alright, I’m gonna skip the talk about cheesy overused tropes because that’s not my main issue for once (note: I’m gonna go off on tropes later anyway lmao). I’d like to talk about the worldbuilding in this episode so buckle up.

To start things off, I actually liked Ozma dying to an unknown disease. It’s a very subtle way of saying magic and aura have their limits when it comes to healing (regardless of the fact that this might get retconned sooner or later, if it hasn’t happened already).

Salem being a dumb greedy bitch plays nicely into her humanity. We all do crazy things for our loved ones, especially when they’re all we have left. Salem only had Ozma. When he died she was left with nothing. Of course she’s gonna try everything in her power to get him back. I would go to hell and back if it meant I could see my beloved alive and well again! Putting her next to the brother of creation is a nice way of showing their differences. Salem is human. The brother is a god. That was a good parallel.

That being said, I have several issues with these brother gods.

The most obvious one is the trope of good/bad god. It’s incredibly cliche to have a white/yellow/vibrant good god and a purple/black/dark lord. I can’t say they put their own spin on these brothers because neither of them seem to have more personality beyond ‘righteous’ and ‘sassy/impulsive’. They’re incredibly flat when it comes to characteristics, not to mention the good one has abs and broad shoulders and the bad one is a bit lanky. Where have I seen that before? I understand the need to show your audience who’s good and bad in just a second, but neither of these two seem to have a feud with one another. So why?

If we look at their powers there’s not really a distinct difference other than the colors used. Both brothers can create whenever they please, they can both take away/destroy at their whim and they both have the ability to shapeshift. You can't even argue that the god of creation can give and take away life, while the god of destruction can take life and bring back from the dead because ultimately it’s the same thing. They even talk in the same manner. There’s really no difference. The only difference they have going for them is their swimming pool. One gives eternal life, and one grants the desire of destruction. That’s it. They could have easily be one god, but then there’s no feud. Oh wait. There wasn’t. The little tension there was was thanks to Salem and was almost immediately disputed.

And this is just a minor bit but personally I’m tired of seeing gods talk all posh and proper. Give me brother gods who prank war each other and talk in ‘YEET’ lingo. I understand that this takes place millions and millions of years before Remnant’s recreation, before our heroes take part in the story, but who says these gods can’t be like that? It’s a fantasy setting.

That aside, what’s up with their forms? During the whole episode they switch between two forms: humanoid and dragon. Which one is their regular form? Is dragon form a battle form? Do they switch to humanoid as to not scare their own creation? If the god of destruction doesn’t like humans entering his domain, why does he take on his humanoid form for Salem then? And if the god of creation doesn’t want to fight his brother, why does he switch to dragon form? When we see them again after Salem riles up all the humans, they’re in dragon form. Am I safe to assume that’s their regular form, or is it really just a battle form (considering they ARE under attack)? None of my questions really get answered.

I really don’t understand the need to destroy the moon, unless it’s because the dark lord couldn’t keep his impuls in check. If someone could explain that one to me, I’d be grateful.

Jumping back to the pools for a bit. Specifically the destruction one. We are told Salem felt the extreme desire to destroy after jumping in there but when we see her again she’s in a cabin who knows where? She’s not going out of her way to kill, and she doesn’t try until Ozma decides to ditch her. Then what’s the point of making her jump in that pool BEFORE Ozma ditches her? She could’ve jumped in after, abandoning what little humanity she has left in a desperate attempt to really kill herself. Her true love betrayed her, after all.

Let’s talk about her true love for a bit. Didn’t Ozpin say his reincarnation was a curse bestowed upon him by the gods because he couldn’t stop Salem? Was that just another one of his lies or was this a convenient retcon? I honest to god can’t tell with this show nowadays. And why did the god of CREATION choose for Ozma to reincarnate in an already living being, eventually effectively DESTROYING the other soul? He’s going to end up alone anyway, so his excuse of ‘you won’t do this on your own’ doesn’t really add up.

Oh and while we’re talking about Ozma and Salem: They really just invented an entirely new religion in what seems to be, what, ten or twenty years? Salem is immortal so I guess she doesn’t age, but Ozma is still the same reincarnation he was when he met Salem again. Assuming by the change in his hairstyle he aged a little, but other than that they really just... Made a whole religion in barely one lifetime, huh?

I had issues with some of the lines/scenes too. Since I’m already making a post out of this episode I’ll just dump them here.

‘It was here where mankind would fall to ruin’ that’s not… Why would you spoil that? Why give this line right here, when you’re showing the exact happening later on? These few seconds could have been used on something else, like more worldbuilding or something. I understand that someone is telling us a story, but why would you give away the core so easily? Does anyone even do that?

‘None dared to enter his home’. There’s a skeleton right there. A human skeleton. Yeah you can argue this is to ~show~ he’s the god of destruction and death, but then it’s not ‘none’. Then it’s ‘very few’. I know this is nitpicking but even the small bits count. It can take just one word to throw someone out of your story and they may not return to it.

‘And so you must understand the dark lord’s surprise’. Don’t tell me what to do. Viewers and readers usually don’t like it when you do this. This line is easily overlooked because she continues her story immediately after, but seriously. Don’t tell a viewer/reader what to do or feel. This is why people usually say ‘show, don’t tell’. Also why does he greet Salem like that? You know what I mean.

Not a line but w/e. I don’t know what it is about Ozma’s brief return, but it feels a bit weird? His fear makes sense because he probably accepted death and suddenly he’s back alive, but his reaction is almost immediate and his fear is very intense. Was he in hell or something? Like the dude just opens his eyes, doesn’t even register his surroundings and immediately goes into panic mode. Why? At least give him a few seconds to look around.

The god of creation destroys the Grimm like immediately after this scene. I wanted to point that out.

They mansplain immortality to the viewers. That’s literally mansplaining. Do they think we’re dumb? Salem can’t be that dumb, can she? Listen, I don’t WANT to straight out shit on RWBY’s writing anymore, but I really hate mansplaining.

Alright, I get that the stabbing scene needs to be censored. I really do. But don’t let Salem walk around as if nothing happened in the EXACT same scene. There’s no cut, there’s no blood. If it had to be bloodless Salem, they could’ve transitioned from here. It feels like a small, unnecessary continuity error, but important either way.

‘But it is nearly a remnant of what it once was’. I fucking LOVE this line, but if this was a shout-out to the world’s name it makes no sense unless edgy Salem thought ‘oh cool, that’s what I’m gonna name this planet now’. Actually that might be canon. Who knows.

#this got longer than I expected #rwde

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she-who-the-river-could-not-hold · 6 years

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100 Questions!

Tagged by the wonderful @janes-mike, @caseyk112, and @el-and-hop! Thank you!!

1. What is your nickname? People call me Kat and Kath usually! The Kath originally was just an online nickname but then my boyfriend’s coworker called me it this weekend so it’s an official one now! I just let people decide if they want to use a nickname I always go by my full name otherwise

2. How old are you? 23! I turn 24 in less than a month though yikes

3. What is your birth month? July!

4. What is your zodiac sign? sun sign: cancer, moon sign: aries

5. What is your favorite color? black

6. What’s your lucky number? eh I don't really have one

7. Do you have any pets? sadly no, but my parents have a cat and a dog back home!

8. Where are you from? Idaho

9. How tall are you? 5' 6"

10. What shoe size are you? 9

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? I don't even know it's a lot lol

12. Are you random? I am such a creature of habit it's actually absurd

13. Last person you texted? my parents!

14. Are you psychic in any way? the closest I've gotten was having a dream about my teeth rotting only to go to the dentist to find out I was having issues with my gums

15. Last TV show watched? idk if I watched TV this past week? probably Altered Carbon or the 100

16. Favorite movie? IMPOSSIBLE. Potential answers are Mad Max: Fury Road or Gone Girl

17. Favorite show from your childhood? Idk the name of it but there was a show hosted by Michelle Trachtenberg where she talked about haunted places? or one called "Endurance"

18. Do you want children? yes! probably no more than two though

19. Do you want a church wedding? ehhhhh not sure. Not really but also it seems stressful to get married outside. Maybe I'll say fuck it and elope at the Taco Bell Cantina in Vegas where you can get married.

20. What is your religion? theistic agnostic with interest in wicca (and witchcraft but I know that’s not considered a religion usually but more of a spirituality?)

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? not since being born!

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? closest I got was running a stop sign in college but I just got a warning

23. How is life? life is good right now!! really thankful

24. Baths or showers? showers but only because I live in an apartment. My bath tub is tiny af

25. What color socks are you wearing? I'm wearing those footie sock thingies for when you wear slides so like a tan color

26. Have you ever been famous? I guess getting voted to homecoming court in high school counts? pretty sure it was a fluke though I didn't like many people hahah

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? only for the money but so much else of it suckkkkss

28. What type of music do you like? everything pretty much? I suppose I don't listen to country music much but as a whole I listen to a wide variety

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? nope not really my thing

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? I have four on my bed but usually use two

31. What position do you usually sleep in? on my side

32. How big is your house? my apartment is a pretty good size I think for being in the city, it’s a two bedroom/two bath condo

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? a protein bar or toast!

34. Have you ever left the country? yes!

35. Have you ever tried archery? I might have at church camp once but I don’t really remember if I was good at it, I’d love to do it at a renaissance fair sometime!

36. Do you like anyone? I do and luckily he likes me too! three years and strong

37. Favorite swear word? fuck, it works for so many things. ass clown. bastards.

38. When do you fall asleep? usually around 11-11:30, I’d love to make that earlier

39. Do you have any scars? a couple leftover from the chicken pox!

40. Sexual orientation? straight

41. Are you a good liar? depends on what I’m trying to lie about

42. What languages would you like to learn? I used to be able to speak German so I’d love to get back into that! And then Spanish since I think that’s important as a person in the United States and I hate how bad I am at it

43. Top 10 songs? REFUSING TO ANSWER THIS

44. Do you like your country? Hmmmmmmmmmm. Yes and no. Currently our worst aspects are hella on display and I hate a lot of it. But I also enjoy living here since it’s where I’ve grown up and I’m interested in helping improve it. But obviously thanks to current politics I’m pretty angry about the state of things.

45. Do you have friends from the web? Oh man I’ve made so many friends on Tumblr in the last year! so yes I do!

46. What is your personality type? creative, type A

47. Hogwarts House? Slytherin

48. Can you curl your tongue? yep! just the hot dog style though not the clover thing

49. Pick one fictional character you can relate to? Hermione Granger 100%

50. Left or right handed? right, though I can sorta write with my left hand since I tried to train myself how to do it in high school

51. Are you scared of spiders? oh my god yes

52. Favorite food? ahhhhh. Maybe BBQ (South Carolina style) or Tex-Mex

53. Favorite foreign food? Probably Italian followed by German

54. Are you a clean or messy person? v messy but I’m really really really trying to get better

55. If you could switch your gender for a day, what would you do? go out at night and not be afraid. enjoy having pockets.

56. What color underwear? uhh blue? I think?

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? if it’s a normal morning, Usually an hour. I’ll start showering around 7:30ish and then I’m usually dressed and ready by 8:30-40ish.

58. Do you have much of an ego? In some regards yes, in some no. I’m extremely confident in my work and what I put out there, but when it comes to myself as a person I have zero ego hahaha. Very far from it.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? I wait to bite until it’s nearly gone!

60. Do you talk to yourself? I mean internally yeah? but that’s just thinking right? so yes?

61. Do you sing to yourself? mmm not really. I’ll drunkenly sing but not a lot no

62. Are you a good singer? NOPE LOLOLOLOL

63. Biggest Fears? failure, not accomplishing my goals

64. Are you a gossip? I try not to be but I’m susceptible to it

65. Are you a grammar nazi? I used to be a lot worse but for the most part I’ve relaxed, unless it’s at work

66. Do you have long or short hair? I have medium length hair on the shorter end!

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? it took me ages to find a quiz that didn’t have a map with it but I was able to get 41/50 from memory in 4 minutes!

68. Favorite school subject? always was Art and English which has worked out pretty well!

69. Extrovert or Introvert? extrovert! to the fullest of the definition

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? nope! probably won’t because that shit sounds terrifying to me

71. What makes you nervous? the idea of failing, disappointing people I love

72. Are you scared of the dark? kinda? a bit of the unknown aspect of it

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? yessssss

74. Are you ticklish? terribly so but I’ve found the older you get the less people try to tickle you THANK GOD I will fight anyone that touches me

75. Have you ever started a rumor? not to my knowledge

76. Have you ever been out of your home country? yes!

77. Have you ever drank underage? Yep! though only a year or so off from the legal age

78. Have you ever done drugs? nope! I don’t think briefly smoking a cigarette, cigar, and hookah thing once each really count. Smoking is even a dramatic way to described it. Puffed a couple times and passed it off because meh.

79. What do you fantasize about? having enough money to be able to live in the place I want and have it furnished like I want, be able to travel everywhere, pay back my parents for everything they’ve helped me with, spoil the shit out of people, being able to donate to as many charities and creators that I can

80. How many piercings do you have? none! closed up my earlobes in middle school

81. Can you roll your R’s? I’m so hilariously bad at this it’s impossible for me

82. How fast can you type? I think last time I tested myself I did 90 wpm and 76 if I was typing on my phone

83. How fast can you run? not fast at all but I’m working on it

84. What color is your hair? brown

85. What color are your eyes? brown

86. What are you allergic to? nothing! unless it’s bullshit

87. Do you keep a journal? Tumblr count? otherwise nope

88. Are you depressed about anything? If I think too long about how we’re not doing anything about this planet, the lack of interest in gun control from our legislators, or the deaths in the Middle East that are at the fault of the US (intentionally or by us ignoring those who need help) I feel really helpless and sad. But nah not really.

89. Do you like your age? 23 is... chill. I think I’ve got until 25 to panic.

90. What makes you angry? EVERYTHING. Incompetent coworkers who don’t respect my job or process. Republicans across the board and a shit ton of establishment Democrats. That our Earth is dying. How people in this city don’t hold doors open for anyone. Wars that we support or won’t get out of or turn our cheeks to (as a nation). My inability to actually take care of myself/my laziness.

91. Do you like your own name? Yeah it’s cool! I like it more now I think. I also like old-fashioned sounding names.

92. Did you ever get a foreign object up your nose? I can’t speak for my very younger self but not that I can remember

93. Do you want a boy or a girl for a child? I’d be fine with either! I’d have to scramble if I had only boys though I have infinitely more “girl” names that I like

94. What talents do you have? graphic design, art, writing, photography, badass houses in the sims (jk I’m okay at it), terrible puns

95. Sun or moon? MOON always

96. How did you get your name? it’s my late grandmother’s name!

97. Are you religious? Not massively, I grew up Lutheran and then went to a couple of different churches. Went through a hard atheist phase in middle school. Now I’m most comfortable identifying with the term agnostic theistic since long story short I’m not against the concept of a higher being, I believe things happen for a reason, I’ve always believed in energies, which can be connected to meditation and praying. I’m currently researching wicca and witchcraft though I’m probably far off from identifying with either of those. Oops that was long I have a lot of thoughts.

98. Have you ever been to a therapist? I haven’t actually, though considered one in high school for a brief amount of time.

99. Color of your bedspread? white with black flowers and green petals!

100. Color of your room? white walls since I’m renting

Tagging: @thezoomermax, @dustinhendrsn, @jane-el-hopper, @littledancersun, @sweet-sugar-sunsets, and @the-most-beautiful-broom!

#get to know me #good god this took ages

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almaasi · 7 years

Note

you have witch powers? i've always been fascinated with "paranormal" stuff, including magic, so i was wondering if u could tell me stuff about it. is magic real? what kind of stuff did ur grandma do? are ghosts and spirits real too? what kinds of spells can witches cast? is it like supernatural? sorry if i'm asking a lot of questions i'm just so fascinated and curious. i didn't even know witches were like, legit until i read ur tags, i just thought that people back then said that so they had 1/2

2/2 a reason to burn a woman they didn’t like. ok now i’m rambling but in short, what can u tell me about witch stuff? i’m just asking cause i’m really curious :)

(about my tags on this)

#whenever phil gets out the tarot cards and pulls something scarily accurate i’m just like…. yes…. good…show us your witch powers…… #(my own experience with tarot? so reassuring. and calming. it’s like asking for a friend’s advice but that friend is your own brain.) #also my great grandmother was a witch by profession and i definitely got some of her magic #i have not yet learned to recognise a feeling when i feel it.. but when stuff happens later i’m like OH THAT WAS MY MYSTERIOUS FEELING #one of our sheep died a week or so ago.. and for two days straight i was outside in the middle of the night staring at the moon #and wondering why i felt death in the air #and the rain made me cry and it felt like release but i didn’t know why #and i immediately started worrying about our sheep but didn’t follow up to see if they were okay #then two days later my mother comes in and tells me one of our sheep died and two days ago had given my mother “the death look” #if you’ve never seen someone or something die… there’s this look they have that’s like a disgraced peacefulness and self-awareness #but basically i knew the sheep was gonna die without any reason for me to think that #and i need to learn to follow up on my instincts because they’re ever-present and i never know when it’s a psychic thing or random anxiety #disclaimer: IS IT ALL BULLSHIT who knows? but science doesn’t know a whole lot about a lot of things and this stuff is natural to me #so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

okay!! i was expecting someone to ask, so here goes. (in case anyone’s wondering, this is a personal post, and no, i’m not making this stuff up.) (feel free to reblog if you want. but it’s so goddamn long aaah)

first off, an opinion: whether or not you believe magic is real in this world is entirely related to whether or not it is real. at least in my books. magic/paramormal stuff can always be observed, but if you don’t believe it’s anything beyond coincidence or skilled trickery, it’s not gonna impact you.

i do believe in ghosts (or djinns, or something else human-like), but in my experience they don’t really do anything except exist in some other realm and occasionally become visible when i’m at my most lucid, at that point between waking and sleeping. most people (myself included) would say it’s just a hallucination. but like…. who’s to say it isn’t real, just in a way we as humans don’t yet understand? y’know?

the most interesting ghost sighting i’ve experienced was when i was fully awake, not hallucinating. i was in a car with my sister, my sister’s friend, and her mother - and we drove over a bridge, and i saw a fritzing semi-translucent black figure walking along the peak. i looked back and it was gone. it wasn’t scary, it was just really cool. i saw that with my own two eyes, i have zero doubt i saw it, and for that moment, it was there.

other times i’ve seen things pass through walls, or felt presences in the room that vanish when i look. i get deja vu maybe once a week. the ability comes and goes in phases, switched on and off whenever i tell someone about it. it’s like that part of my brain gets really shy and goes into hiding when it’s mentioned.

sometimes it can be pretty powerful. there’ve been moments when a deja vu begins, i remember it from a dream, fast-forward through the memory to remember what happens, and i get ahead of present time, so i predict what’s in front of me by about one to three seconds. usually it’s snippets of conversation, or my hands moving to complete an action, or words i’m typing. (let me tell you, it’s so freaking bizarre when you’re consciously typing, thinking about what you’re typing, and simultaneously remembering typing it before, and knowing what you’re about to type despite not yet knowing. and then seeing it happen. i think a lot of people reading this would be like “what?” but i know there’s someone out there who knows exactly what i mean)

for a long time in my teenage years i told people i’d see coloured figures, like auras without physical people, just hanging around out there in the world, but due to health issues a lot of my teenage memories are gone, and the only memory i have of that stuff is the recollection of me telling people about it, and remembering it while telling people. it’s really weird. i sometimes think maybe i made that up?? but i don’t understand why i’d do that when i do actually see other things sometimes.

once, my family visited this old historic building, and i remember seeing a woman in a maid’s outfit duck through a doorway. but she wasn’t actually there. so. idk.

my great-grandmother (or great-great grandmother?) on my mother’s side used to sell love spells to the people in her Indian village. my mother told me about it when i was little. my [great] great grandmother would write a spell on parchment, and the client had to go home and burn it in their fire. and she would curse people, in exchange for payment. that’s all i know about that. but my grandmother (also on my mother’s side) used to have some kind of power, i never got to ask about it while she was still alive. (she was an awesome woman. one of the first women in her country and generation to go to university.)

personally, having been raised as a muslim, i always felt really disconnected from the culture and practices of the religion, even though i believe in the supernatural aspects of it right down to my core. that’s despite my ultimate acknowledgement of facts being deeply rooted in hard science. recently (like, in the past few months) i’ve started to rediscover my faith - directly following on from a quiet interest in the pinterest & instagram aesthetics of paganism and new age magic, which as a concept i was never really sure about. i just really liked how it looked. basically, it clicked in my brain that islamic prayers could, in essence, just be spells. you gotta take everything with a grain of salt. they might not work. but that’s the beauty of it.

a few weeks ago i stumbled across a prayer on tumblr, and read its intended purpose: “Allah will grant whoever recites this seven times in the morning or evening whatever he desires from this world or the next”.

and… i started to think, maybe the purpose is not to actually do that. nothing ought to be a get-out-of-jail-free/do-this-and-your-life-is-made type thing. maybe the purpose is to make you believe nothing can go wrong. and that every bad thing that happens–? it happens so that you can learn from it. and eventually, after many things change, you realise what you desire was not the thing you thought you desired. (idk how to explain that. an example from my life: i really wanted to be a veterinarian growing up. then i got sick, dropped out of school. and now i’m a writer. i want to be a writer more than i ever wanted to be a vet. i had to get sick and my life had to fall apart before i could discover that. writing was never something i’d have considered before.)

my point is, if you believe everything that happens to you will ultimately be a good thing, bad things don’t hurt so much.

and if you take something as a sign, it’s a sign. it’s just your own brain taking hints from the world around you and using them to conjure up a decision. if you wanna believe it’s magic, it is.

personally i like protection prayers/spells and just…generally positive ones. i say prayers for sick friends, people who i see on my tumblr dash who are having a bad time, and if i see or hear about disasters or worldwide events. i’m not expecting it to have a visible impact, but like.. what’s the harm? at the very least it makes me feel like i did something if i don’t have money to give, or i can’t be there with a friend, or the world is falling apart and i’m helpless. praying or saying a spell is just hoping, really, really hard. if some greater being is out there, listening? cool. (but what if god doesn’t wanna do anything? maybe it’s like my cupcake theory. god puts the ingredients in a baking tray, shoves it in the oven, forgets about it. the universe rises as a cupcake. god made it. but the universe is doing its own damn thing.)

regarding tarot cards: again, it’s self-reflection. you can believe answers come from outside influences, but it’s easily just as much about interpreting generic advice and making it mean something to you. but personally i’ve drawn random cards, and known that no other card in the deck would’ve been as relevant at that moment. i’ve used tarot cards to determine the endings for my stories, and coincidentally pulled cards that directly represent my title characters.

one time i was thinking about my fic “The Moonlighter and the Magician” and the card i pulled first was The Magician. and i was like gee thanks tarot cards that’s helpful. (but actually? it meant those cards were on the same wavelength as me. think about it. 78 cards, there’s a one in 78 chance i pull that one on my first try.)

apart from my wonky first-ever tarot readings with the Rider-Waite travel-size tarot deck (which belonged to my mother), i’ve never pulled anything that didn’t eventually make sense. i use The Wild Unknown cards now, i relate to them so much more. plus they’re mine, not borrowed or abandoned for years, which probably helps. (buying those cards was the most money i ever spent on anything. i don’t regret it.)

is any of this like the show ‘supernatural’? not really. the closest i can say my experiences have come to the show would be the episode “faith”. just, the whole episode. it doesn’t matter if it’s the real deal, so long as it works. and boy, does it work for me. and a lot of other people.

like i said, all the spirit-like entities i’ve encountered have been perfectly benign. no monsters, except things i’m pretty sure are nightmares.

but on that note, i take a lot of things to help me sleep. if i didn’t, i’d be waking up screaming night and day (i hit whistle register while screaming, once). i see faces in the dark and creatures in my bedroom, even when my eyes are closed and i’m awake. i sleep with a light on, and i prefer to sleep in the day. i cannot even deal with the presences in my room.

for that matter, my room is definitely the most presence-heavy room in the house. now, although it’s obviously just in a drafty area, i feel the cold spots. all. the. time. i’m feeling one right now as i type this. the door and window are both closed. the heater is always on. the draft comes from the same corner of the ceiling my cat stares at when she’s “staring into space”. there’s definitely something there, but it legit doesn’t bother me. it watches me get dressed sometimes, but it’s not weird about it. like i said, benign.

i feel energy everywhere i go. i can’t stay in my family’s open plan living room comfortably for more than a few minutes, because that room is filled with people and pets coming and going all freaking day, and even when it’s empty, it’s so LOUD. there’s vibrations and voices coming out of the walls, because the house absorbs it all. as a generally tired person, that room exhausts me. i can only stay there if i have social energy. (yes, even an empty room.)

i am so, so sensitive to people’s moods and the energy they let out (to the point where i burst out screaming if i see a negative microexpression during a personal conversation). i find phone calls very difficult, not just because of social anxiety, but because i can’t sense energy as easily as i want to, and is natural for me. skype calls aren’t the same as being there in person. a lot of this could also be autism-related, but nearly everything about me is autism-related, because i’m autistic. go figure.

one time, the day i had my first period, i passed out in a maths exam. all the other times in my life, i’ve seen black or maybe red when i passed out, but this time it was a striking cobalt blue. and i heard SO MANY VOICES, i thought the whole classroom was full of people shouting. my P.E. teacher was observing that exam, she carried me out of the room and lay me on the floor outside. i told her about the voices, she looked at me in confusion and said “there were no voices?? the whole room was silent for the exam.” obviously that was a weird day, but given the amount of times i’ve lost conciousness in my life, before and after that day, i know the warm muggy feeling of slipping away, and i guarantee that one was just a little bit not-normal.

my cat Wilson follows me everywhere. if you’ve ever seen a picture of a witch and her familiar, that’s me and Wilson. she leaves the house if i leave, and she’ll walk down the road beside me to make sure i stay safe. she only lets me leave completely if i go in a car, but even then, she tries to come too. i know what she says when she talks. she speaks in words for me. it translates naturally in my head without a thinking process.

there was this one time when i was about 15 my parents took me to an after-hours medical centre because apparently i was ~speaking in tongues~ or whatever. i don’t remember it, i remember ‘waking up’ with a doctor’s flashlight in my eyes, crying, then holding my sister’s hand as we looked at the fish in the fishtank afterwards. i can’t say how legit that is because i just.. don’t remember it.

one time as a kid, i am absolutely sure i was possessed for about 30 seconds. i was walking down the street on a balmy English afternoon, pine needles scattered underfoot, with my elderly grandmother (paternal), my grandfather, and my sister. i must’ve been 6 or 7? and a streak of evil just bolted through me. and i stuck out my foot and my grandmother fell flat on her face. my grandfather tried to help her up, a car driving by pulled up and asked if they needed help, grandfather said no, and got her back to her feet. i can’t remember if i felt remorse. i think i just knew instinctively that it wasn’t me who did it. but like.. i wasn’t just A Nice Kid, okay, i was The Nicest Kid. i just don’t do things like that. ever. especially not to a kind and generous grandmother who i love so very dearly. i never had before, and i never have since. that’s the single most evil thing i’ve ever done in my life and it came out of nowhere. being more aware now, i think it was a djinn (aka a demon in christian beliefs, i think). they’re known for being mischievous. (my grandmother was fine, by the way. this is the first time i’ve told anyone about this.) now i think about it, i remember cobalt blue behind my eyes then, too.

whoops, this is a really long post now. but uh… basically, i’ve just always been open to feeling these things, and believing in what i sense for myself, without subscribing to whether or not the science has been done yet. in fact, i think i’m open to it because i experienced the same stuff when i was young. the energy i feel is very much real to me, completely tangible. i’ve never been able to see auras, but i feel them on some people. i think just being open to feeling something makes it more likely to come to you. i try not to ignore my instincts (because they’re always right. always.) but i find it’s super hard to distinguish between anxiety (which i feel often) and magical ability (which is far less commonly felt). also sometimes the instinct is so faint it doesn’t even become a passing thought, just a blur of something i half-considered. but in hindsight i realise what it ought to have been, had i paid proper attention.

i can comfortably manage to go outside in bare feet, shut my eyes and let the moonlight do its thing. it has an immensely powerful energy, i always feel cleaner inside when i go back in. (my cat Wilson sometimes asks me to go outside with her when there’s a full moon. almost every night, especially on warm nights, but even freezing ones, we can just stand out there for an hour together. watching the moon set is transcendent. far more so than a sunset.)

right now, due to years of bad health, i have to force some natural abilities away (like the nightmares) because they’re too much for me to handle. i think as i recover, over time it’ll be easier for me to accept that stuff back into my life.

oh, one more thing, regarding my health - i have celiac disease, which has kept me essentially bedridden for the last 7+ years - WHICH BY THE WAY, my family spent literally 9 years trying to diagnose. my doctor kept doing an anaemia test, telling me there was nothing wrong with me and sending me back to school. i saw various specialists, herbalists, a naturopath, physiotherapists, cardiologists, had an MRI scan, saw family counsellors, school counsellors, a hypnotist, etc etc - basically consulted every medical professional under the sun when a simple blood test would’ve done it. stupid misogynistic doctor who thinks all teenage girls fake it to get out of school.

but one thing we did do was visit a psychic, who told me i had something called a candida. my dad, a sceptic and nonbeliever, googled it and said it was “some kind of magical thing in the gut”, and was therefore bullshit, so we continued the search for a diagnosis. years later - years - after a change of doctor (who i chose because i got a good vibe from her picture) we find out it’s celiac disease, a disease of the gut. of the hundreds of people we saw, the only ones to even pinpoint the right body part were the psychics. i googled candida just now and guess what? literally celiac disease. this woman diagnosed me with celiac disease by kneeling at my feet, holding my hand, and shutting her eyes for 30 seconds.

for the record, slightly off topic, i know very few men in real life, and this is what the men in my life have been. my doctor, dismissing me as a liar because i was a teenage girl. and my father, dismissing my declining health as “not trying hard enough”, even now, more than a year after i was diagnosed by a doctor. i think this is why i take refuge with male fictional characters. they’re better. i want them to be soft and understanding like the men i’ve never known.

anyway, this is the part of my life’s story i never really pieced together until right now. it’s a lot, more than i expected. i happily call myself a witch. most of my magic goes into my stories, and i think a lot of people who read them feel it, even if they translate it as passion or love or good vibes or something. the amazing comments i get would speak to that. i love the energy i get from comments, because it does come through in typed words, even if it’s much fainter than seeing people face-to-face. some comments just hit me with waves of goodness, even if the words themselves aren’t so powerful. so i really appreciate that stuff. it’s good stuff.

yep. that’s all. i hope this satisfies your curiosity, anon!!!

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fizzypunks · 7 years

Text

Industry Guidelines

Fandom: Shinee

Pairing: Jongtae

Genre: Angst

Length - 6.5k

Rating: T+

Warnings: Self acceptance issues, religious conflict

Notes: Jongtae are too precious and while this is a one shot, more Jongtae will be coming in the future

Enjoy, and share if you do!

There are rules.

That's all Taemin has to say about any of it, at least. Rules about that unspoken thing that everyone in the industry lives with; the one that doesn't call itself out but instead lays flatly against his feet as he treads on it.

That terrain is unexplored, but not unknown – a mystery to him as much as it is to spectators. It's a not-entirely-well-kept secret, something to know about but not speak of.

Taemin sees it sometimes, this big secret that's kept under wraps. He sees it with Kibum and Minho – he smiles at them in the mornings as they get walk out of the same bedroom, hair tousled and glowing smiles. He hears it at night in shaking bed posts and quickening breath between small breadths of drywall; he's heard the sounds for years – he's just… never talked about it, because that's one of the rules. But, he's known .

For years .

If he's not busy, building a career and distilling his talents, he'll catch a glimpse and wonder what it would be like. What being himself might mean in an industry that likes to trample the unconventional.

He's almost too caught up in his dance practice to want it, to want to be able to say that he wants the slice of life that his bandmates have been able to carve out for themselves. But then again, the music can't always out-yell the sound of his thoughts.

He's dancing too hard to notice it now, but when he can't sleep, he can't help but think that there's something wrong.

He doesn't know if it’s in himself, or the world, but it's wrong and it leaves a bitter taste in the morning.

Sixty-six, sixty-seven, sixty-eight.

He's staring at the wall, now, in the silence of his room and counts the rise and fall of Jonghyun's breath. The steady stream of life that he'd grown used to now, a background noise as comforting as a soft fan or the hum of a street light.

Jonghyun finally fell asleep, just before two in the morning – the first time in months he was able to find that evasive off switch to his brain.

Tortured genius, Taemin thinks, rolling over in his bed. He doesn't have the same sort of excuse, he reasons out in the dark, staring at the spot he knows Jonghyun is in the pitch-blackness.

He's trying to do anything but think about things that make his knuckles white with envy. Where is his sleep, now that his body aches and his mind needs peace?

Probably with Jonghyun, because seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty , and he's surely dreaming by now, stealing what was left of Taemin's willpower to shut the fuck up and get some rest . He can't be mad, but he's not very thrilled with his situation either.

Taemin sighs in frustration, a ball of anger hanging in his stomach as he practically feels the hours pass him by – the way his memory started to play, screens behind his eyes turned into movies that keep him awake and vividly aware .

It's clear as day sometimes, when the lights are dim enough, like pictures on a film roll. Like it is now, when his eyelashes flutter open and observe the nothingness of two in the morning and he returns to feigning sleep.

The thoughts – those memories that rattle around late at night– are of Jonghyun. They're all about Jonghyun and him and occasionally there’s mix of oddly attractive men he sometimes gets a good glance at (though mostly it's just his bandmate).

It's Jonghyun – his hair fucked up late after a real night of sleep, twisted in ways that look unflattering and entirely too much like I just got fucked . The way his shirt worked its way off him in his troubled slumber, or how warm his body is when he slips behind Taemin to hug him.

Then, it’s way he sometimes hears his breath come too fast, late at night when the A/C kicks on. Too shaky and breathy and desperately quiet in the middle of nights, when Taemin has been silent for long enough to be mistaken for sleep...

The reminder of sexuality is also something Taemin's learned to live with – there's only so many times a man can jerk off before someone walks in on it, after all. It happens, and Taemin's caught everyone with their hands down their fronts one time or another (or a half dozen other times, in some cases).

But, when it's Jonghyun…

He could only really think of how he really needed to sleep instead of think of –

No, he's not… not like that . He's their youngest, their makn a e , the one who was supposed to be pure and sweet and innocent and everything he wishes he was. He's what his image was shaped into – that was supposed to be him, and he was supposed to be happy with fame and his life and himself.

Why wasn't that the case, then? Why wasn't there a mold for him to cast his soul in so that it matched what his body, his fame, was?

He knows his soul best and it cringes at the way he smiles on TV, the way he talks, walks, sings, dances – the way it all feels like a complex lie that he built all on his own, no company assistance needed (though, possibly, maybe it was aided by the company). It felt like a shell already drained of its yolk, shiny and perfect but gutted for display for Easter.

Taemin bit back a hitch in his breath, that way you do when trying not to wake someone – not wake a roommate.

His soul cringes at all the things he does and all the things he says – or doesn't say, doesn't do when his fingers twitch to follow the curve of his own body, down, down, down –

Stop.

His hands always – usually – do.

There it was, again like a tireless lover that's never been satisfied: the way his body doesn't like to stay on the same page as his principles, the doctrines of his faith. His body was neither his lover or his friend and he wondered why he was cursed with it at all when all it did was give him away.

But then, there was the lack of obedience that also stayed within him, a side to the multi-faced coin of his life. It was the pestering, enduring idea that his ideology was– was fucked up. It was a thought that he brushed off every time he brought it up.

He often cursed his position in the band, the kid who debuted at fourteen, and how that image just stuck – he feels as bad about every awkward boner growing up as he does now, basically an adult who’s never been allowed those sort of thoughts.

And then there’s the way his eyes follow his hyung's hips as he walks the halls -- it’s not right, right? How he watches him too deeply in the morning when he wakes him in the morning, or passes him on stage, and there’s a thump in his chest like getting kicked by a horse.

It’s not right and he doesn’t dwell but then he thinks how badly, how strongly he wants to think that it could be okay. That if it were ever okay, ever, to think like he does, then it might be okay for him and that just once, it would be right.

It’s not easy, though. There’s no cure to impurity and when Jonghyun dances and smiles and brings him into his arms, or how he sings in the shower like he's composing the next masterpiece on their album, it almost hurts.

Taemin is eighteen. He's a man, and he's living with four other boys and god damn it if he's not in the prime of his sexuality, but… but he just feels bad . Bad and rotten like apples left untouched (maybe quite literally, the thought comes and goes) and everything else horrible that the world seems to smother him in with his age, with his gender, with his religion or the eye of the press.

What a joke it must be when he wakes up, hard and bluntly aware of every inch of fabric on his skin, of the draft in the room from the open door and the fact that Jonghyun is getting dressed just behind his back.

He's singing again, humming a tune from one of the lyrics he's working on. It's addictive – not the melody he hums but the way he does it.

That sort of passion and energy isn't easy to stand up against; rather, it’s like instinct to get swept up in it and never want to let go. Taemin wants to be pulled in, but instinct drives his feet into the sand, and the erosion does nothing to soften his determination.

Jonghyun is many things, but he is never ashamed of himself. Taemin hears the clarity and command of his whispering singing and he tries not to think about what comes after.

A cold shower and shaking hands are often where he finds himself.

Taemin catches an eyeful of lyrics every so often – stray paper here on the table or in the kitchen or floating around under his bed.

This time, he picks up the discarded paper and when he reads the lyrics scribbled on the scrunched parchment, his stomach knots. He looks for a second and by the next, he's torn it apart and crumpled it as much as possible.

Those lyrics, all sex and yearning and so obviously written about girls. About normality.

Taemin sulks all day and only feels whole once the dance room is his and his alone.

Jonghyun's girlfriend is nice. Her smile is free and so are her hands, always on his back or shoulders or drifting and exploring.

Taemin has that bitter feeling all the time, now.

Taemin resents Jonghyun's lyrics – even once he breaks up with her, Jonghyun can't seem to shake the way he wrote about how he felt about her.

It's hard for Taemin to sing about her and not feel broken.

He hates the romantic feelings worse than the sexual ones – sex was biology, was breathing and blood flow and the need to touch and be touched. The romance, the way he wanted to simply be with Jonghyun, dreaming of his smile and his voice and how good he was – that was not biology. That was chemistry.

He didn't want chemistry if it justified loving someone off limits.

He's eighteen and his career has kept him from many things, including the luxury of admitting to himself that he was in love with his friend. With a boy.

Also, maybe, it kept him away from romantic encounters that a lot of boys have had by this time.

There was a drunk encounter, and she was willing and he wasn’t but they still tried. That was last year and it was a mistake. No one knew and thank god they didn’t, he wouldn’t have an explanation for it otherwise.

It's embarrassing but he shrugs it off, stays in his corner and concentrates on doing his best in his craft -- life without sex wasn’t too bad if he worked hard on his career, on dacing, and that is what he started out in SM to do, after all.

It's kept him painfully confined to work and himself alone. Living with four other boys without a moment of privacy, he's never felt more isolated (even when they're taking care of their favorite maknae, checking in on him when he seems not quite right. Maybe his smile falters and maybe they're concerned, but he'll smile again and say that it's exhaustion and mental energy and he's actually “doing very well.”)

He's their little brother and he's utterly convincing.

It's embarrassing and he pretends it's not.

The company encourages dating within the ranks. Idols dating idols is easy to control, and it's easy to drive a private life in an industry that makes idol's time and attention worth more than gold.

Taemin has been told that if he were to date, it should be in the company. Girls from Girls Generation or Red Velvet or f(x). Obviously, it would have to be after his nineteenth birthday, but that he was assured was a right he had.

Taemin never does this. He's been asked out more times than he cares to count.

Taemin comes home late at night with that never-ending ache in his limbs that demand a hot shower. Dance is hell when it comes to deadlines, but he bears it in shaking thighs the best he can and when he’s done.

Minho and Kibum are at it – it's breathy and achingly loud and Taemin tunes it out when it gets too noisy, the way his friends make each other feel… good.

That's what it was supposed to be, right? Good? He's technically nineteen now but he suddenly feels twelve all over again. (Flashes from last year and that one encounter come to mind and absolutely none of it felt good, even the kisses.)

His shower turns cold after all, and his ears are drowning out more than just the moaning coming from down the hall.

Jonghyun slips into Taemin's bed. It's midnight and Taemin was just talking to him about the video game they just bought, how he thought it was too easy and that they needed to get a new one and then he slips into bed and suddenly Taemin is forced to think about how much he loves the man pulling him into a warm, engulfing embrace.

“Hyung?”

“I'm tired.”

Sometimes, Jonghyun can sleep if he's next to Taemin. It's a good arrangement, because Taemin loves to share a bed. It feels less engulfing with Jonghyun there.

“Then sleep,” Taemin whispers, ignoring the best he can the way Jonghyun's lips are pressed against the crook of his neck. Jonghyun sighs, entangling his arms around Taemin's waist and scrunching his hand up in the flannel of his sleep shirt.

“Thanks, I really need it.”

Taemin doesn't mind. He doesn't sleep, though.

His hyung is shorter than him and he loves it, sometimes. Hugs are cozier and they fit just right. He takes up just the right amount of space in the car that they can fall asleep on each other and it’s the most perfect thing, in Taemin’s mind.

But then, when Jonghyun's hand is on his thigh, idling in the most frustrating and embarrassing way for Taemin, he suddenly feels bigger than life.

“Again, now this time breathe in fully and then let it out slowly,” Jonghyun instructs. “Focus on this and you’ll have longer periods of time where you can sing on one breath.”

Taemin's breath wavers, that nervous way that often found its way into his speaking when he was younger.

Jonghyun is behind him, hands encasing his stomach in a way that Taemin couldn't stand. He pressed harder, fingers just below his sternum. “Breathe in, I can tell you're not quite getting all the depth that you need to hold these notes. You need to work on this, especially.”

Taemin tries again, but he knows he's not as good as he should be at this point in their career. He's better, but he's nowhere near where he feels he should be. After all, he's been told this before.

It seems like a waste of time – of the energy Jonghyun gives him however many times a week.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jonghyun's tone is professional, but a note of deep concern follows through his question.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure, you're shaking?”

Taemin gets his body under control immediately – show business has taught him something useful.

“Of course, hyung. I'm just really tired, schedules are long.”

Jonghyun's hands – his entire presence, just behind him and just out of reach – departs and now they're sitting again, each on their own bed. Taemin's legs cross and he teeters just on the edge of his mattress, a perfect balance of what he hopes is composure and ease.

They practice in their room only when the others are out and Jonghyun insisted it was only because it was more comfortable, though he knows it was because no one would hear Taemin. It was for Taemin's comfort as much as it was for the ears of anyone who happened to be near by.

Jonghyun stares at him, an undertone of… something Taemin can't place. Something, painting his features solemn and more contemplative than Taemin would feel comfortable being at the receiving end of.

“… ah, Jjong? Hyung?”

He's staring and Taemin can feel his neck warm. It spreads, slowly, a fire fanned on by the way Jonghyun's expression turns soft and intense and…

He smirks, rolling his eyes. “You're staring at me. You in love?”

“Um, you're staring at me first , hyung,” and their tone is thinly humorous – thinly anything but that smoldering feeling that Taemin wonders if Jonghyun can feel too. Something about the word love doesn't sound like a question – but then again, Taemin knows he's projecting, knows what wishful thinking is and that he's done enough of it for a lifetime.

Jonghyun rolls his eyes again, and he gets up to lay on Taemin's bed. “Lay with me and talk about video games, I'm bored and I really can't imagine doing anything else.”

“No more lessons? Am I still that bad that you'd give up?”

Jonghyun snorts, moving. “You were never bad. Lacking confidence, yes, but not bad.”

They retire that conversation silently, mutually.

Taemin puts some space between them and they're off again, that steady stream of conversation flowing from them so easily that it might feel natural to Taemin to stay at this distance.

Then Jonghyun grabs his hands and Taemin wishes he could say something. His throat closes up, too dry, and suddenly, Jonghyun is threading their fingers together in the silence.

It‘s a crush and it's made Taemin wonder, just what does it mean? Is he gay if he only likes one man?

That one man is on stage right now and he's supposed to be going out there, do what they practiced. Just like they practiced. For the fans.

His heart thumped in his chest and the nerves never wore off, even after the adrenaline of getting his hair pulled did.

Taemin is sure that he's not… like that . Not gay. He can't actually convince himself of that any more, and Jonghyun has fallen asleep next to him in their hotel.

“Hyung?”

He's passed out, spent, leg looped over Taemin's in a softly intimate way that makes a heat wave overcome him, from the hips up.

Maybe he's like that . He can't imagine life without his hyung, what else could it be but love?

Jinki asks if he's okay. He's dancing too much this week, even by Taemin standards. Jonghyun is reading a book in the corner of their company van, but his eyes snake up every so often to look at the two sitting across from him.

Taemin wonders, did he ask Jinki to ask?

“Why wouldn't I be? I'm just practicing. The new choreography is… a lot more. A lot harder.”

No one buys it – the kid dances in his sleep, and Jinki's eyes uncertainly peer through him.

“Okay. Just, lay off for a day soon so you can recover. We can't have you out because you danced yourself into the ICU.”

Taemin nods and Jonghyun stares at the same place on the page for the rest of the ride.

Jonghyun is waiting for him, the kitchen table littered with pages of his handwriting . Jonghyun looks up to the dorm door and then to the clock and Taemin knows he probably should have come home earlier. Or later. Just not at the time he did.

“Where were you?”

“At the studio?”

“I asked manager, he said you weren't there. Said you said you were going to recover at home before we start shooting.”

“Oh...”

Taemin was dressed as muted and inconspicuously as possible and Jonghyun visibly became aware of that. He was wearing his discreet citizen clothes that no one would look twice at, and Jonghyun was staring like he was undressing him, undressing his story.

Taemin was about to say something when he heard it. The shaking of the walls, the way they fell into a rhythm that Taemin had been doing his best to avoiding hearing all together.

Minho and Kibum were doing that thing.

Jonghyun sighed, dropping his head into his hands and chuckling humorlessly. “Ah, god, those two. I swear, I don't have insomnia, they're just always keeping me up.”

Taemin doesn't really know how to respond to that – what is he supposed to say? How is he supposed to say it? Aren't they supposed to ignore it when it's this loud?

Taemin spent years keeping himself away from this part of dorm life – pretending to be asleep at night, or on nights like this, coming home so late that he couldn't possibly expect anyone to be awake when he returned. It's a craft he‘s honed over the past five years, and, honestly, it was bound to come up. He was lucky he got away with it this long, in fact.

It's three AM.

Jonghyun's looking at him. He's been looking at him lately – intensely, like he wanted to wear him thin.

“I was just, out, trying to relax. Took a walk.”

Taemin takes off his cap and sets it on the counter. He takes cereal out from the taller cabinet and he's pouring himself a bowl when,

“It's been every night this week.”

There's no reason for him to feel as taut as he does in that split second. He hums, whether in approval or disagreement is anyone's guess.

“It's annoying, isn't it?”

“What is, hyung?” His bowl is too full.

Jonghyun huffs a little, drumming his fingernails against the laminate of the kitchen table. “You know. Kibum and Minho. Jinki's pissed off about how loud they've been getting lately.”

“Oh, ah, yeah. Yeah.”

“Hmm, aren't you sort of, I don't know, upset to have them ruining your sleep?”

“Oh, well, I guess I've been practicing and preparing a lot. I've been getting in later than… than they're... They're getting loud.”

“I noticed.”

A shiver runs up Taemin's back and it occurs to him, just how easy it could be to see through him. He tries to change the subject, and it's flimsy at best when, “Where's Jinki?”

“Oh, he's at his girlfriend's. Returning her shirts or shoes or something. I think it was just an excuse to be with her before promotions, you know?”

He grabs his bowl and turns back to Jonghyun, whose eyes are trained on him like a wild dog honing in on a small animal. (Or, at least, that's how it feels; Taemin's shrunk to the size of a rodent and he wanted nothing more than to scurry away and live in a dark hole.)

Taemin smiles. “Yeah, I guess so. We won't have a lot of time for personal things for a while.”

“Well, yes, I think so. Except… you.”

Taemin thinks that he might look like a deflated balloon, popped in an instant and his smile is faltering. His eyes are glinting, weakened like rocks broken with a pickaxe. “Hyung?”

Jonghyun is standing up, the embodiment of determination that Taemin knows so well. All of his years of good luck were crashing down on him right at the moment his hyung is standing in front of him.

Jonghyun's locked eyes with Taemin, grabbing the bowl that he had secured between his hands and setting it out of sight.

“I think your entire life is in the studio or practice room or on stage, isn't it?”

“I mean I… I guess. I'm just – ”

“I don't think I've seen you take someone home, actually.”

How does this come out of nowhere?

“Or, really, go to someone's home, like Jinki – ”

“Hyung, really, please...”

Jonghyun puts hands on either side of Taemin, braced against the counter top and Taemin doesn't know where to put his own hands.

Taemin has faced the world, bare chested and exposed like nerves caught in the wake of a flame. He's grown up in the entertainment industry. He's stood his ground on countless landslides and all it takes is eye contact with one person to shake him entirely.

Jonghyun is looking up at him, holding him in his gaze like a snake charming the charmer and Taemin can't breathe can't think can't feel anything – except–

Except… “I noticed a lot of things, Min-ah, lots of thing that I haven't talked about.”

The rules are crumbling, now, and Jonghyun's leaning into Taemin's ear. Taemin shivers, shockwaves ending in his hands that don't know how to stop.

Jonghyun looks at them and his right hand is laying on top of Taemin's, sandwiched on the counter. “It's been five years since debut, but I've known you longer than that. In all the years, you've never… never brought someone home. Never talked about crushes or girls you liked – never have I seen your eyes gloss over like Jinki does with Jessica.”

Taemin's mouth is a desert, a landscape that can't be crossed. Jonghyun is good – always has been – at reading Taemin's silent language, the one spoken in expressive eyes and harsh breath and sweaty palms. It makes sense, how he'd know this whole time, how he'd see what was right in front of him.

Still.

“Hyung, you know… I'm busy… and i'm only now able to officially date and– ”

“Did rules ever matter to you? They didn't when you sneaked in cigarettes for everyone, when you went behind manager's back and sneaked out to get food – to hide our porn, to cheat on diets, to–”

“ I get it , let it go.”

Jonghyun pulls away from Taemin. The glint of a smile on his lips softens, transforms into the sort of intimacy Taemin wishes he knew. “I have a question, Min.”

It can't be anything good, but… “What is it?”

Jonghyun had dark circles – years of lost sleep – and he was drilling for oil, unashamed, when his eyes pierced Taemin's. “What are Kibum and Minho doing?”

The Gods conspired, and a thump against the wall followed by a sharp moan flowed down the stairs.

“Ah, hyung, really...”

The banging – the rhythmic pounding – suddenly sped and–

“No, really, Taemin, what are they doing?”

This is stupid. “You know what... what they're doing, hyung.”

“Can't you just say it?”

Jonghyun is in his space now – in the fragile area around Taemin where he can feel his body heat, his breath, and if he could listen of the sound of his own, he'd hear his heartbeat.

Maybe it would have beat fast– the way Taemin's was when his eyes were on their feet, on the checkered laminate floor, pretending that he wasn’t being confronted in his very own kitchen.

“Really I have to go – ”

“Taemin, are you gay?”

Jonghyun would be the first one to ask him. He'd be the only one to ask him. He breaks a lot of rules, but Taemin never expected him to break the rule .

Taemin's shaking, the way Jonghyun's searching for his eyes. The way he's wanting an answer and Taemin thinks it's okay, now, okay to talk.

He nods, drawing in a breath as shaky as road signs in a hurricane.

Jonghyun hums, then pulls him into a hug that is a lot more accepting than Taemin expected.

Everyone is sitting around the table – there's a feast and they're starving and this is the first true meal they've had in months.

Minho and Kibum are beside each other and no one says a word about how their eyes lock, but everyone sees it and it's beautiful, Taemin thinks, to see love as unashamed as theirs.

Taemin smiles directly at the two, trying to be polite instead of laugh at how dumb they can be – how dumb they are and how the fact that the two of them together makes them twice as dumb.

“Do you really think you're gonna get the first solo? Psh, It'll be me for sure,” Kibum said, a mouthful of rice forcing his words to contort to its shape.

Minho laughs. “Rap is hot in the market this year and the company would love a piece of this.”

Jonghyun is laughing with all of them, and he grabs Taemin's hand under the table. “As if. I'm sure it'll be Taemin, for sure.”

“Hyung, please,” Taemin giggles – it sounds too airy, too heated, but it's genuine and he loves the way Jonghyun smiles at hm and squeezes his hand.

“Oh but I'm telling the truth, it has to be you – our precious maknae. Doesn't everyone agree?”

Approving nods and words through stuffed mouths rebound across the table, circling back around to Taemin as he ducks his head in modesty.

He's still smiling, and it feels unlike any time he's ever sat around his brothers, his members, and felt at peace. “Hyung, you're too confident in me.”

“Ah, but you need to learn to brag a little.”

“You need to learn modesty.”

“Amen,” Jinki added, right before sticking another piece of pork.

Taemin never brought up that conversation with Jonghyun – the one in the kitchen that turned into an embarrassing sob-fest in less than a minute. It remained, as it always did, a subtext of every conversation, every part of their lives, that they treaded over it as if it weren't always there.

Until, now. It's a hotel room, one in Tokyo they'd been in before, and Taemin's on his own bed tracing patterns in the ceiling with his eyes when he asks how Jonghyun knew he was gay.

“It's the way you look at me, Min, that really gets to me.”

And Taemin has no idea how it went from one secret, to another, with just one breath. From Jonghyun knowing about him being who he is to loving who he does.

Taemin chokes on air and he's clamming up, a hot seconds difference between last minute's ceiling doodles and being faced with… with–

“I think I saw you watching me off stage and I don't think anyone really looks at me like that. It wasn't like you wanted to tear my clothes off, it's like you were taken away.”

Taemin turns his head, and Jonghyun is staring at his crossed legs, hands fidgeting with the remote that was more a prop than anything. It made him look busy, and Taemin's heart sped up.

“I...”

Normally, Taemin would be apologizing, trying to fix the wrongness of himself and how dare he fall in love with a friend. How dare he betray that trust that friends are supposed to have.

Taemin draws a blank, heart still feverish in the way it was trying to vibrate out of existence – he gets up and sits next to Jonghyun, an instinct that caught himself off guard. He's made of nerves when his hand comes to lay on Jonghyun's shoulder, but he takes pride in his steadiness.

Jonghyun looks at him – Taemin's never been so torn apart than with that look and his hand retreats. “I don't think anyone's stared at me and looked like they were in love.”

Taemin wants to shrink into himself but, “There are literally thousands of girls who stare at you and want to marry you, hyung.”

“But do they know me?”

Taemin's face is overheating and he looks down to the same remote in Jonghyun's hand. “No.”

“Do they spend time with me playing video games and making food late at night and do they fall asleep on my shoulder when we're driving to the airport?”

Taemin shakes his head, and Jonghyun laughs. “See, then they don't really love me.”

But I do .

Jonghyun tilted Taemin's head up, faced him, and kissed him – it was one movement, so smooth that Taemin didn't realize it was happening until about three seconds in.

He's kissing back, slowly – really really poorly because in the last year, he's probably only kissed someone three times, all of which had been drunk encounters with people he realized weren't Jonghyun.

Jonghyun snorts, still kissing him but suddenly urgently trying not to laugh.

Taemin's almost offended till Jonghyun says, “Hey, feel how cold my hands are,” and sneaks his hand underneath Taemin's thick sweater.

It might have been an excuse to get close to Taemin, but Taemin doesn't care because his world rearranged itself in front of him and– damn–

“Hyung!” He recoiled, shocked at just how cold Jonghyun's hands were.

The tension is still there but they're smiling like idiots. “See?” Jonghyun said over a lopsided smile, eyes bold and shy at the same time. He's collected Taemin's hands in his and they're sitting closely, and Taemin wants to lean in but doesn't know if he should. If he could.

Jonghyun is looking at his lips – so obviously, so distractingly that Taemin doesn't register what is being said.

“I'd really like to kiss you again,” is what he hears when Jonghyun repeats himself, and his ears warm and his stomach flutters and he still nods yes . There's subtext, it sounds like I love you, I can't trust myself to love you, what if this is a dream , and he's crying before he realizes he's doing it.

“Ah, god, Tae,” Jonghyun gasped, breathless. His fingers swipe across Taemin's tear-slicked cheeks and surges forward, like he's drawn so entirely to Taemin that he can't help but try to bridge the imaginary distance between them.

Taemin's breath is always sucked up into Jonghyun, and when he breathes back in it's all Jonghyun; his scent surrounding him, his hands endlessly unsatisfied and constantly finding their ways back onto his bare skin.

Jonghyun is a force, a train, something so unstoppable and utterly sweeping that Taemin catches his enthusiasm and shifts a little.

“ Mmm, ah , Tae,” Jonghyun says in a moment of separation. He's guiding, nails grazing the exposed skin at Taemin's back, a subtle force that directs them onto their sides.

The kissing is infinite – it's how Taemin imagines passion to feel if it were distilled into only a few moments, a few minutes, of breathlessness and so much urgency that he might have thought the world was ending.

The kissing is not infinite, and neither is the heat in the lowest parts of his stomach. Jonghyun's legs are between his, wrapped around each other, a twining of limbs that felt as natural as it was new. The context, the swollen lips and puffy eyes, was new, while memories of falling asleep in a similar way were as old as memory itself.

There were moments where Taemin couldn't bring himself to truly look at Jonghyun, even with him laying right beside him and looking at him, all teary eyed and pink and at a loss for footing.

“Your eyes.”

“What about them?”

Jonghyun's thumb was on Taemin's hip, the only exposed part of him, rubbing circles. “They're pretty.”

“They're swollen and gross.”

“If you haven't noticed, your lips are too – but they're still beautiful.”

The last stray tears flitted down Taemin's face, the necessary last few hangers on that he needed to rid himself of. The words stung – bitter and foreign and offset, like he was perched delicately on fantasy that sudden words would knock him back to a reality he didn’t want to be in.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jonghyun nudged.

“Do… are you… like me?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Taemin smiled. “Do you like me?”

A wider smile grazed Jonghyun’s face, and he rolled his eyes. “Yep. A lot.”

Taemin didn’t want to cry anymore but he did and this time -- it felt different. Happier, like he could breathe again (or for the first time, maybe).

Still cloudy, still filled with haze and confusion, he had it in him to cry and smile. “I think… I think I can work with that.”

Jonghyun snorted, brushing away tears and letting his fingers linger on Taemin’s skin. “Dummy, you’re gonna have to work with it. I really want this to work and I want to be with you and I want you .”

Jonghyun, his hands on Taemin’s thighs, is bigger than life again -- a monument to all the things Taemin couldn’t do. That Jonghyun -- the untouchable, the beautiful, the one he daydreamed about -- was shattering now, and Taemin felt like it was okay.

It was okay to take his hand, hold it there on his jeans over his thighs and let himself appreciate it. Just a bit.

“I just, don’t -- I don’t know how.” Taemin feels stupid when he says it. He feels like he should know.

“Neither do I. I don’t think anyone does.”

“Well not everyone but normal people do and --“

“Normal? What, you mean straight?”

Taemin was scrambling for footing -- but he had none. That’s exactly what he meant - normal people, the ones who can have kids and hold hands and not feel like their skin was crawling with eyes that hated seeing them. Taemin swallowed and had nowhere to go, just retreat to his corner and feel like a shadow against the sun.

Jonghyun had a torn look on his face, in his searching eyes. He didn’t look upset,Taemin realized. It took a second before he recognized that it wasn’t pity, that it was sadness.

Suddenly, their hands shifted and Jonghyun rolled on top of him, thigh splitting Taemin’s legs open. Jonghyun didn’t meet resistance, not an ounce of stop , and his hands perched him on top of Taemin.

Jonghyun kissed his forehead, his breath cascading over Taemin -- his scent, the toothpaste and the floral and the way he always had some candle scent stuck on him, surrounded and engulfed and Taemin didn’t know what to do with it.

“You know, those people won’t ever get to experience this and that’s sad. They won’t have half of what we can “ -- and he kissed the spot between Taemin’s eyes -- “They won’t know what this is like” -- and he kissed his nose -- “They won’t get it and they’ll miss out on you and me and honestly who gives a fuck about them? I only give a damn about you.”

Jonghyun hovered, lingering like a question, before finally kissing Taemin.

It felt like a declaration -- it felt like love masked in poetry and Taemin nodded when he came eye to eye with Jonghyun. He couldn’t shake the feeling, stop thinking, that this kiss was wrong -- or not entirely right.

But then it deepened -- fuck, is Jonghyun a good kisser -- and he couldn’t think anymore, not about his family or his guilt or anything inbetween.

“Ah, Jjong... “ Taemin whispered, his breath hot and steamy, looking at Jonghyun with hooded eyes.

Jonghyun chuckled -- Taemin felt it resonate against him, their chests so close together -- and went in for a quicker kiss. “It’s like that -- you look at me like that. That’s how I knew.”

Taemin laughed into his mouth and rolled with all that followed.

#Jongtae #Shinee fic #My fic #length: 6.5k #kpop #shawol #oneshot

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middleeastnews1 · 5 years

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Muslim Society and the Turbulence within the Middle East

One of the most vital figures regarding Muslim Brotherhood since its emergence back in 1928, would be the works of a deceased Egyptian Muslim historian named Sayyid Qutb (1906-66), “Turbulence within the Middle East”.

This individual continues to be unknown, however the man has certainly been mentioned as the configuration that possesses the highest influence within al-Qaida leaders specifically, Usama Bin Ladin and even Dr. Anwar al-Zawahiri.

Sayyid Qutb is a striking figure in regard to Jihadi Salafi belief; born within a run-down neighbourhood near the Nile Valley, inside Egypt, who studied both Western & Islamic religion, a common thing when it comes to a modern-day jihadist intellect.

His significant dominant work amongst the Muslim populace is Ma’alim fil Tariq & Milestones on the Roadway.

Sayyid Qutb was literally implicated of attempting to topple the federal government of Nasser, because of it he was ultimately killed in 1966.

Qutb is considered today, the forerunner of the Muslim Society; this person said that “Islam is the religion of the entire cosmos and that Islamic Sharia spiritual concepts of the Quran, ought to be the law regulating the world.”

This guy classifies the Western world as “jahiliyya” that is oblivious of the rule of Allah, and even suggests that a “True Muslim will be denying his or her God assuming that he or she follows any type of man-made state and federal government rules.”

The person says that the phoney gods of the Muslims residing within the United state of America are the “Commander in chief, the Elected Representatives, Supreme Court and the Constitution that inspires all of them.”

Basing on Qutb, a Muslim may not cater to Allah in the event that “e or she recognizes the authority of Western side organizations (jahili).”

Sayyid Qutb refused to acknowledge the teaching of splitting up of Religion & State; this individual asserted that Muslims that follow manufactured regulations, for example, the UNITED STATE Constitution, are going to be incapable of sharing Islamic associations with other Muslims due to the teaching of Division.

The man demanded bureaucracy concerning Islamic Sharia with regard to Muslim society, , and make use of their efforts to transform many others to Islam.

This person declared that nonreligious customs limit the religious belief of Islam, and also inevitably may be a dispute among the requirements of Western side federal governments & Islam.

The individual explained that a “Real Muslim: residing within the Western world will never be free to serve his/her God since he/she needs to obey man-made legislation and acknowledge their power rather than The lord’s rule exemplified through the Islamic sharia.

Qutb wraps up saying that the Western world is going to be demolished/destroyed from within, due to its own absence of faith based values, and will undoubtedly end up overshadowed through a much more unrivalled civilization of Islam.

What makes Muslim Society & even Sayyid Qutb so prominent within the Arab realm?

In order to respond to this particular question, a person needs to search the state of the Middle East as well as the background regarding the Arab men and women, immediately after the decline of the Ottoman Dominion after World War I.

The failure regarding the Ottoman Supremacy was actually a drawback for Sunni Muslims of the Turbulence within the Middle East; these people make up eighty-five per cent of the Muslim populace, globally.

The Ottoman Government was a shining icon regarding bureaucratic & doctrinal uniformity in regard to Islam.

Back in 1924, the stance or position of the King was eliminated by Turkish head, Kamal Ataturk.

That role was as vital to Sunni Muslims as the holy father aka “The Pope”, when it comes to the Catholics.

Up until 1924, the Emperor was the ruling King of all the Muslims; this individual was helped by mufti for the Supremacy.

Furthermore, Ataturk, shutdown the conventional religious academic institutions and even eliminated Islamic Sharia; concealing of females was formally discouraged in the past, however today, Traditional western garments for males and females were actually urged and even the Traditional western calendar was embraced in order to switch out Islamic calendar.

Brand-new civil, industrial, punitive codes built upon International versions have been embraced.

A fresh law finished Islamic polygamy and even launched a fresh governmental marital relationship laws.

Brand new Turkish alphabetic quickly switched out the Arabic alphabet, the dialect of the Quran.

Females were granted right to vote as well as the right to keep political office, Sunday was literally embraced as a legitimate weekly holiday break rather than Friday, and the Westernization of Turkey started.

Because of all these modifications, Turkey ended up being a nonreligious region.

This kind of alterations were viewed by Muslims within the Middle East and also Northern Africa as consumed underneath Traditional western control and do not actually adhere to Islamic sharia. Back in 1928, Muslim Brotherhood (al-Ikhwan al-Muslimeen Community) was created.

Following self-reliance regarding the states within the Middle East and even N. Africa, each and every constitution involving those states, includes stipulations specifying that Islam is the faith of the State and that the Islamic sharia is just the source law.

Amongst these states, just Lebanon and Turkey have absolutely no such provisions.

Within the Egyptian Legislative political elections of December 2005, Islamic Society Movement boosted its own visibility within Parliament five-fold.

The objective is literally to make use of democracy, in order to acquire a majority in the vote-castings so as to execute Islamic sharia as the unwritten law.

Muslim Affiliation possesses the prospective to take control of each and every single region within the Middle East and even Northern Africa, plus impose Islamic sharia as Sayyid Qutb wanted.

This Opinion based Article was contributed by Peter Shaula

The post Muslim Society and the Turbulence within the Middle East appeared first on Middle East Headlines.

from https://middleeastheadlines.com/turbulence-within-the-middle-east/9812253/

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turulbird · 6 years

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Assassin’s Creed: Resurrection

Chapter 1 - Blue of Skies, Blue of Domes

"Oh the one who pleases my heart, how we used to travel around the Mediterranean Sea, around the Arab lands and Rome and France. I have recorded all of the places that stand, whether they be lowlands or high up, so that I may transmit this knowledge."

...Blue…

:::A relevant memory block, later by approximately 4 centuries is found. Skipping to initially requested timeframe.::: ...Blue...

:::Gravitational simulation loading… Please wait…:::

...It was all blue…

:::Sensory nerveous system inputs loading… Please wait…:::

...Why was it all blue?...

:::Accessing memories… Ashina Sungur. Memory date estimated: late 1st quarter of 11th century.:::

...BLUE..

“Y DNA Genetic trace suggests an individual of Central Asian origins…”

“Blue Sky** be with you, Sungur! May your path never end!” Sungur heard the voice, nodded and smiled to his older brother’s goodwish. He held onto his horse’s reins even stronger. He was leaving, finally seeking his own destiny but it meant leaving everything and almost everyone he held dear, everything he was born into and grew alongside.

Such was the way of nomads.

By his side, half of his father’s oba** that decided to come with Sungur, he was tasked with finding a new home for the Clan Ashina and its people. Staying was not an option, their law dictated both siblings, Sungur and Aksökö divide what land their father left them after his death. Aksökö, being the older one had a lot more popularity than Sungur and were to eventually claim all of the Ashina land for himself as soons as he gets an heir, so the two would eventually clash.

Sungur knew this because they were old royalty. It was the more powerful Ashina’s duty to prevent the chieftain line from branching. Their cousin clan, Ashida, made the mistake of tolerating root and branch clans, the resulting civil war almost erased their name from the face of the steppes.

“May your yurts ever multiply, Aksökö” said, Sungur. for the last time, then turned his horse’s face to west. His horse instinctively switched to travel speed as he held up the banner of his clan, carrying Ashina’s coat of arms or rather their symbolic “tamga** of the raven” as he rode to the leading front of the convoy of people that are ready to follow him.

And to the west they rode, first, through a small desert; then came the rocky fields. When they reached the Khazar land to the north, they were more or less close to the third anniversary of the start of their journey. Sungur led his people with greater wisdom than it was expected of his age. He was calm, calculated, thorough in his every decision. Sungur was keen on making new connections from the Oghuz and Kipchak Turkish Clans who just recently started to reign on these lands to find his clan a place to live. Ashina’s formal royal status did little to help him on his endeavour, as it was a reason enough to make any Khagan or bey** uneasy while allowing a clan this old and this large into their holds. Every bey Sungur made a connection advised him to travel further west or go south to join in with the young Seljuk Empire as soon as possible, as they had an already somewhat established control over the land and needed fresh cannon fodder clans to brace the might of Byzantines on the southeastern Anatolian Border. Persians’ distaste for Seljuk Turks’ control over their land was also well known and placing clans like Ashina would also prove them useful in terms of culturally dominating the area.

:::“We are getting close to the desired geography, doctor.::: :::”Hardly means anything. We’re still a few years off from Sabbah’s birth”.:::

Sungur aimed to reach to Nishapur. To walk the streets and talk with people. Learn who is who before making any awkward introductions with powerful people and getting pushed around. Ashina’s young chieftain took thirty of his men and traveled south to Seljuk capital. Approaching the city as a traveling caravan, he wandered the town’s dense streets to a point he can map them. Things he saw left him in awe. He was a steppe man, he grew up in a large oba but had never graced his sights with an architecture quite like Nishapur’s. Buildings, temples with domes and towers piercing the blue skies was displaying the perfect mixture of sharp edges and curvy outline of middle eastern architectural sense at the same time. “Persians sure does know how to build things.” he thought. Sungur later learned that these temples were of the religion of Islam which was dominant there. Blue turquoise was mined here and the gems were under open display as they were covering every possible facades of the mosques. It looked like the marbling and turquoise art of every kind was supplied to the world from this town, although Egypt’s Sinai was known to be a close competition. Even pavings of the streets had some form of pattern art made of marbles that embellishes the simplest of neighborhoods.

Nishapur was a diverse city. Traveling merchants from east to west, north to south all had their own districts and caravansarais to stay when they entered the city. Turks, if not royalty, were living outside the city because they preferred tents to solid walls. Persians, under the rule of Seljuks were still living in their ancestral homes, although their lands were confiscated for Seljuk’s own iqta.** Greeks, Armenians and Jews had a minor presence in the city too. Bustling bazaars of Nishapur had so many languages being yelled at to customers from many kingdoms. Sungur crossed paths with a group of Slavs buying turquoise sword sheaths, some Latins hauling silk and salt to their carts, dodgy looking hooded men carefully inspecting the streets from rooftops in a particular neighborhood and even witnessed a fat Egyptian buy opioids from an Indian with the longest grown beard he has seen in his life.

After four days of wandering around, Sungur caught the attention of the city’s security, or whoever it was to be tasked with figuring out what business this unknown warriors of thirty men that claims to be a trade caravan but neither selling nor buying anything in Nishapur. At night, fully armed gulams** with an old scribe came saying that he has to check the trade made by caravan for taxing purposes. Sungur, realizing that his cover as a merchant is blown up, introduced himself as the leader of clan Ashina. He said he wanted to buy supplies for the clan’s main convoy for the way west but found nothing to his interest in the city. Hearing of Ashina name, gulams told the Persian scribe that the man before him needs to be taken to Tugrul Khan.

“Why are you riding around in my city with a false identity, bey?” Said Emperor Tugrul Khan of Seljuks. “You packed up from the fatherland with quite a crowd. While we encourage strong beys like you to join our ranks; a formal hail before your arrival could’ve prevented my cavalry from encircling your main convoy encampment. Imagine my surprise when I found their lost bey within the walls of my city under the disguise of a merchant.”

“I meant no offence, noble Khan. We really did came here with the intention of supplying our convoy, then to be on our way to Byzantine border northwest to Baghdad. Ashina is crowded and we want to cause no problems to the establishment of the young empire you founded. We will carve our own territory to the west around Dogubeyazid and....” “A-a-a-a!” Interrupted, Khan. “What makes you think, that I’ll let you pass, bey? What makes you think that I don’t want Dogubeyazid and beyond, even Constantinople for myself, for my young empire?” “My Khan… I.. I assumed…” “You assumed too much, Sungur Bey. You will settle to wherever I see fit for your clan. But only, for a short time. I will give you a vast herding land and some autonomy near Caspian Sea. You, in turn will take your forces to my army when I demand.”

Sungur agreed, they talked terms. In several hours, they have found a special kind of sense of humor in eachother and Sungur realized, for all his dominance and agressiveness, Khan liked jesting around. Sungur realized this is a different breed of leader he’s talking with. Educated, literate, he was referencing of philosophers of ancient Greek when forming an argument, assuming Sungur already know them. Sungur wished he did. Khan gifted him a horse, couple dozen Seljuk banners that depicts an Öksökö the legendary two headed eagle, a guide tasked with showing them their new land, what rules to follow. He bowed as low as possible before exiting.

When Sungur reached south of Caspian Sea, Seljuk lords saw it reasonable to make Ashinas settle near Ak Yayla for couple of years, until Tugrul Khan of Seljuks, now a friend of Sungur decided their fate. Sungur made several raids to Byzantine borders with his alps**, atamans** and lesser beys. He eventually fell in love with a golden haired shield maiden from northern Tatars, Altun Khatun** whom he met during a raid. Despite her father’s objections, she loved Sungur too and the two eventually married. Altun’s younger brother, Jeng, also joined up with Ashinas and quickly became Sungur’s right hand man. Sungur trained, met people, learned Arabic, some Farsi, even some Greek. At the fourth summer there, Altun gave the family a daughter, they named her Alchin. And at the fifth... :::Warning: Birth trauma imminent. Flow of genetic data suggests a change in memory subject.:::

“It’s a boy, Sungur Bey. You have a son.”

:::Initial scan complete. Possible names and aliases listed as…:::

“As we agreed with Altun, let it be known that he’s called...”

:::Ashina Tugrul:::

:::Ataman:::

:::Hidden One:::

:::and Assassin:::

Database/Codex Entries Below:

Blue Sky: The Deity most Turks and Mongolians worshipped before majority of Turks switched to Islam.It was also known as Gok Tengri, and was the Zeus-like head of the steppe pantheon of gods.

Oba: A tent town made of “yurts”. Often different places for winter and summer settling.

Tamga: A mixture of coat of arms and a letter-like symbol of a deity, a society or a noble house. Clan Ashina’s tamga was raven, but as you might notice, it didn’t resemble one at all and tamgas had no place in Turkic alphabet to begin with.

Figure: Tamga of Blue Sky Tengri with inscription: “Öd Tengri yaşar kişioğlu kop ölgeli törümiş.” “Only gods really live; mankind has bred to die.”

Bey: Oghuz Turkish word for “lord” or “sir”.

Iqta: The Middle Eastern feudalic system when an individual or a family is awarded with personel land in exchange of covering the expenses of some particular soldiers of high class. The system survived under the name of timar and gave rise to the infamous timariot class of soldiers in Ottoman times until around 16 to 17th centuries.

Gulam: Elite soldiers of Seljuk Khan. Consisting of Turkmen clans like Ashina who recently migrated to west. Tasked with protecting the Khan himself in the capital. The just like the word “Mamluk” in Arabic, the word “Gulam” originates from “Slave” in Persian which Turks basically was when they arrived to Middle East as paganist refugees from Chinese war. Turks’ beliefs meant they could not be equal citizens like Christians or Jews. Muslims gave control of the cavalry of their army to the Turks and allowed them to live outside of the walls of their cities. In time, more and more Turks arrived and they used the military control they were given to usurp the old regime, both in Egypt(which led to the birth of Mamluk Sultanate) and in Persia. Although Seljuk’s case were more of a brute force case rather than a political scheme.

Alp: Means “brave”, alp-hood was somewhat equivalent of knighthood of Europe; although anyone could become an alp and it was not an inherited title for nobles.

Ataman: A warlord title of Cossacks and Tatars. Ashina Tugrul is half Tatar from his mother’s side, so I figured he can use the title. He will be called Ataman by his uncle Jeng, who is also an Ataman, somewhere in his lifetime.

Khatun: Old Turkish word for “lady” and the root of current Turkish word for “woman” which originates from the word that is more or less similar to “shield maiden” or “female warlord” in ancient Turkic.

#Assassin's Creed #assassin's creed: resurrection #fanfic #assassin's creed fanfiction #assassin's creed fanfic #Turkish assassins

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