#our vanguards were not really all that involved

[texasobserver]

From “I Am a Trans Texan” by April Maria Ortiz in the Texas Observer:

It strikes me, and may strike you, as a bit crazy to come out as transgender in an essay like this. I’m publicly revealing myself to be a member of a marginalized community in the midst of a moral panic targeting our very existence. Ascribe it to my defiant streak, if you will.

If you’re not aware that there is a moral panic about trans lives, then you need to pay attention. As of now, according to the list maintained by activists Alejandra Caraballo, Erin Reed, and Allison Chapman, over 400 bills targeting trans people have been filed with legislatures nationwide this year—more than in the past several years combined. Texas is at the vanguard with about 30 bills and counting. If the frenzy continues, it won’t end there, as former President Donald Trump’s recent speech and Michael Knowles’ rhetoric at CPAC on eradicating transgenderism make clear.

I’m hardly an ideal spokesperson. I’m 43, and I’ve lived my entire life up to this point (with fleeting exceptions) in the gender assigned to me at birth, which is male. Think of my biography as a cautionary tale. It’s painful and messy, and I’m going to tell you some of it. You may find this unpleasant, but I have no other way to say what I need to say. Only bear in mind that my experiences, though common, are not normative. I don’t speak for anyone but myself.

Growing up at the edge of San Antonio’s south side in the 1980s, I learned the usual things about gender and sexuality: Boys are boys and girls are girls and all that. My dad was a biology teacher. I knew the differences. But something seemed to be awry in me for, as far back as I can remember, I felt that I ought to have been a girl, or that in some strange way, I really was a girl, even though everyone treated me as a boy.

Adults policed my gender expression conscientiously, and I inferred that my feelings were unnatural and shameful. Still, I would sit in the pew at church as my parents took communion—we were Catholic—and silently rank which of the women who passed me I would most like to grow up to be. As a small, less-than-masculine child who hated sports, I became the target of bullying once I went to school. But I would lie awake every night, imagining myself becoming a girl—my only refuge from my strange alien existence.

Environmental factors didn’t make me this way. My parents were present and involved; my mother a caring, feminine homemaker and my father, a loud, masculine teacher and artillery officer who was sometimes frustrated by my unmanliness. Expecting me to grow up and marry and follow the same pattern, they enforced the “natural” gender norms they espoused every day of my life. Far from becoming trans through exposure to modern “gender ideology,” I was, simply and naturally, a trans child, even though everything in my upbringing went toward imposing a gender binary that itself represented an unacknowledged ideology. There is no “real me” beneath my transgender self. I have learned to mask it, yes, but if I were somehow to remove it, there would be no me left behind. No more could you remove the flour from a loaf of bread.

As soon as I was old enough to be left home alone, I began secretly wearing my mother’s clothes. Experimenting with femininity launched me into a deep and pervasive calm tinged with a fear of being discovered. After some years, I was found out through a misplaced blouse. I lied my way out of the tribunal that ensued—standing, panicked and alone, before my father and mother. My parents’ eagerness to accept my lies made up for their implausibility. The alternative was believing me to be some kind of queer, which I suppose is what I am.

My junior high coach, a morose sadist who later got fired and went on to a career as a campus cop, compelled boys to shower together in a dimly-lit subterranean cell. A small, undeveloped sixth-grader, I was thrust in there with big, masculine eighth-graders, their eyes ever-roving for some weakling to abuse. My unboyishness and isolation made me easy prey. As a transgender person whose brain was telling me that my body should be female, it’s hard to describe just how traumatic such experiences were. What made them unbearable—to such an extent that I began to self-harm and eventually to plan my own death—was that I had no words or concepts to describe or understand what was going on with me. I was simply a freak of nature, an abomination who had to hide in plain sight, surviving from one morning to the next, hoping that no one would discover my secret, dying a little each day.

You may believe that the problem here was not my being forced into a simplistic gender binary that left me vulnerable to abuse and trauma, but rather my gender dissonance, and that I should have been made to feel at home in my assigned gender. In other words, I should have been coerced into being a normal boy. If you think that, survey the research: It shows, overwhelmingly, that attempts to “convert” gender nonconforming people into traditional gender identities and other forms of rejection are ineffective and traumatizing—in fact, the scientific consensus is that all forms of conversion therapy aimed at altering a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity result in long-term harm—while care that affirms gender identity results almost universally in positive outcomes. It’s also clear that what negative outcomes do occur owe largely to hostile environments.

But since we’re in the middle of a panic about transgender people “invading” sex-segregated spaces, let me add this: Far be it from me to make anyone feel uncomfortable or unsafe, but I have never felt comfortable or safe in any male space. Nor, I believe, would I have felt better in a female space. I prefer privacy for doing such things as defecating and stripping naked, and I find our regime of communal showers and toilets just a little weird and, yes, oppressive. Perhaps that’s one aspect of the problem we should be examining?

There hangs in my parents’ home a circle of my annual school portraits, which show me becoming progressively sadder from year to year. My body was turning into an alien thing with the onset of biological manhood. By the time I graduated, my mounting dysphoria and social problems—I also had an undiagnosed autism disorder—led me to begin planning suicide. In secret, I painted a picture of a girl cutting her wrists. I was the girl, you see. In recurring dreams, I was a young mother. Despair held sway over my waking life.

It was either leave home or die, so I moved across the state for college. My plan was to wait a few weeks and, if nothing changed, to kill myself in a shower stall. Something did change: I found love and acceptance in the woman who became my best friend and then my wife. Several years later, I was still alive, presenting as female in the privacy of our home and as male when I went out. This made me happy. For the first time in my life, I began to approach peace.

It was the turn of the millennium. I was a shelver at the university library, which often left me alone in the stacks at night. Sometimes, I would work in the gender and sexuality section and take down books to try to understand what I was. Many of the books were out of date for that time, and much has changed in our understanding of transgender people since. In them and on the nascent Internet, I encountered terms and categories that didn’t seem to apply to me, reflecting a time when researchers developed theories with little input from the trans community itself. So my gender confusion persisted.

My fragile peace was disturbed when someone to whom we’d entrusted our key entered our home without permission and went through our things. I felt certain that my secret self must have been detected. Mortified and afraid of being outed, I threw all evidence in the dumpster. I grew a beard as a bulwark against “temptation” and began two decades of self-contradiction and mounting desperation, which brings us to today.

“You have to go the way your blood beats,” James Baldwin said in an interview. “If you don’t live the only life you have, you won’t live some other life, you won’t live any life at all.” Belatedly, I’m coming to grips with this. My attempts to cope with gender dissonance have consumed much of my life, taking hours away from each day, isolating me from loved ones, alienating me from my body, leading to bouts of depression, ideations of suicide, and alcohol abuse. It doesn’t go away. In middle age, I’m forced to recognize that nothing short of being who I am will resolve my profound inner conflict. The word “transition” is terrifying but, however catastrophic the process of coming out may be, I’ll not be much good to those I love if I’m burned out, incapacitated, or dead.

Read more on the Texas Observer.

(🎨 Image by FocalFoto on Flickr)

#trans rights #transgender #trans #coming out #lgbtq #pride #Texas #Uvalde #san antonio #mental health

[thefirstknife]

Is stuff like clarity control and ahsa widely known within the destiny universe? Or is it classified? Like does your average run of the mill vanguard operative know about what’s going on on Titan, Does that Exo that work at the bar in town know about clarity

Is it on a need to know Basis where vanguard operatives know but civilians don’t ?

Not only asking about those two things necessarily but things of a similar kind too. Things like the seraph satellites and their destruction, the stuff that’s happens in the throne world or even Saladin now being a part of caiatls war council as well

These things are fairly well known, at least to Guardians! I'm not entirely sure it actual civilians in the City know everything, though they must know at least some stuff given that it frequently impacts their lives and Guardians also tend to chat a lot. There's probably some stuff that doesn't really reach the civilians, but I believe most of it does one way or another, mostly through Guardians.

Usually how it's treated is that a select few people find out first, which technically just means the Vanguard and the Young Wolf and some other people like for example Osiris or Drifter or whoever is involved in the story. New missions, raids and dungeons are first uncovered and cleared by the YW and a few other guardians (since raids in particular need 6 total people).

But after that, all of these missions become open to others and every time we clear them, it's canonical in some way. Some more so than others; for example us killing Fikrul over and over in his strike was canon every time. Some other missions might be sort-of canon as in we go back into these areas to clear out ads, but we don't really kill the same boss over and over. But repeated visits are canonical and other Guardians are free to go in and learn and get loot. As soon as you get hundreds of people freely entering these areas, the news would spread pretty fast. The only question is how interested civilians are in some of these things.

A few examples of this:

recently when we discovered Spire of the Watcher dungeon, canonically the YW did it first, but afterwards Ana Bray hired another fireteam to go back in for more data. Our repeated visits are treated more or less the same; as Guardians going in for loot and information.

Stuff we discovered in the Vow of the Disciple is known and Guardians were hired to transfer samples and information out of the Pyramid, detailed here showing a random Guardian transporting samples which didn't end well for him. However, this shows that these things aren't kept a strict secret, as many Guardians are required to secure locations like this, keep enemies out and gather data. Similarly, the Preservation mission is canonically happening over and over which allows Guardians to enter the Pyramid and clear it of Scorn so anyone can go in and snoop around.

Other stuff that might feel like it would be classified, like certain texts, are widely available. Witch Queen Collector's Edition showed us that both Books of Sorrow and Unveiling are being read by pretty much everyone casually. These texts were otherwise unlocked by us in missions, but once they're unlocked, it seems like they become available to everyone else in the setting freely.

Sometimes others actually precede the YW and the Vanguard in some missions, like for example with Garden of Salvation raid. That was first done by a completely different fireteam, including the discovery of the exotic gun from it, Divinity. It's unclear how much of it they did exactly, but they reference the Divinity puzzle and actually get the gun. They were definitely in the space first.

We also know that civilians are also involved with research and science in the world, shown here by listing a few papers written by civilian researchers. This also shows that there's a scientific journals with a lot of volumes and papers being released. So even outside of learning things from Guardians, civilians surely have access to general knowledge and new discoveries in the setting. That doesn't mean that everyone knows everything by default, as it probably depends on someone's personal interests first and foremost, as well as how new or potentially dangerous some information is. For example at this point, stuff about the DSC and new discoveries about Exos are probably fairly spread out, so a random Exo civilians is probably aware of it (if they care enough to read into it). I'm sure some brand new stuff is kept contained for a while so Ahsa was probably a secret until we were sure that she's not a danger to us, but now she may be better known, especially since she fought by our side and is our ally.

#destiny 2 #guardians #civilians #ask #long post

[12pt-times-new-roman]

now, given all this new information, my question is this.

Ludinus Da'leth has been involved in the major events of every single campaign.

He, of course, was central to multiple stories in C2, and although that might not have been fully resolved, it also couldn't have been (I am of the opinion that the Mighty Nein truly dealing with the Cerberus Assembly at the end of C2 would've been impossible because of the political web they would've had to untangle to do it). He was involved in Caleb's backstory through Trent and in Beau's through the Cobalt Soul being in conflict with the Assembly. But he was also central to the global narrative happening at the time -- his acquisitions of the beacons are what caused the war to brim into the public eye, and we still don't know who first initiated that trade. Most of our information about him comes from C2.

In C3, he leads the Ruby Vanguard, is apparently in direct communication with Predathos (or whatever's trapped in the moon), and is generally continuing his exploits from C2 away from the eye of the audience. He likely approved the attack on Zephrah, which set Orym on his quest to Marquet alongside Fearne and Dorian where they met the Hells. He sent those dunamis potions to Hexum, where Ashton found them. We have no idea who "D" is or who hired them, and they were the ones who brought FCG to Bassuras. Each and every one of the Bells Hells could be connected to Ludinus' exploits.

C1 is where it gets muddy. He knew, and most likely appointed (or approved the hiring of) Delilah Briarwood to the Cerberus Assembly. It is implied that she was ousted from it because of her necromantic experiments not by Ludnius, but by the Cobalt Soul (there was mention of the Soul having removed corrupt members of the Assembly in the past). The dinner in Emon that Vox Machina was invited to -- that both mirrors the dinner Laudna was invited to and kickstarted Percy's revenge quest with Vox Machina -- was organized to celebrate the Briarwoods closing a deal on building a bridge between Whitestone and a part of Wildemount that would be (or would have been) controlled by the Dwendalian Empire. Had Delilah not been ousted from the Assembly, her experiments would have continued, she would have found her cure while still working there, and she and Sylas may never have traveled to Whitestone at all.

So if Ludinus Da'leth has been involved in the events of every major goings-on in Exandria since around 800 PD, and the Ruby Vanguard is founded on the idea (posited as fact) that Ludinus has been constructing and meticulously orchestrating this event for decades, and Ludnius has been able to see the web of fate (through either Predathos or the beacons) for all that time --

was every single event of all three campaigns orchestrated and specifically designed by Ludinus Da'leth to reach this point? was everything he did, everything he tried to do, everything he apparently failed at, everything that seemed innocuous, all to create the specific conditions that would lead to this specific event happening precisely as he knows it will happen?

It's a hard sell. But it works with C3's hard focus on free will in a world of gods and destiny, and if Matt frames it right -- which I'm sure he will if this is really true -- it doesn't have to take away from any of those campaigns' events, any of those characters' stories. I think it was Caduceus who said that there's a lot of free will involved in destiny, and that might be exactly what Matt's going for here.

#critical role #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #note watches c3 #drunkposting

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Hi Peahen mom,

Could you write something short involving something with your muses and demon mun muses please? I really love the short and long stories you two write. Maybe something involving royalty?

((Hello and good morning dear, hope your alright today on this friday. So something of royalty? Well, I can try to write something involving them. Just give me a moment or it could be a idea.))

((The DBT and some others of the devils mentioned in this, along with the Devil Nobles au belong to @demon-blood-youths ))

"Ink, where are you? Senkai you said you sent the message to her and her team already didn't you?" Vanity, Ink's father and the main royal head of the Vanity house of pride waits upon his throne for his daughter and her fraction. Her friends were also royal princes or princesses of their own house but knowing much, he needed to speak to them. However, he gets the feeling she went off somewhere in another area of the demon world to have fun or have parties. Again.

"Yes, she got the message a while ago and will be here in a moment Lord Vanity." Senkai looks knowing he did summon for her but he knew how she was. Even when it came to parties and having fun. He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose but he knew this was important and it was drawing close to that time.

"I'm sure she and her friends will arrive shortly." he said.

"......"

Just as he said that, the main doors open showing a group of young adults walk in. The two look seeing them, noticing a familiar young woman who was happily drinking some Coke soda. It seems Vanity 'Ink' Vanguard and her friends has finally arrived.

"I told you we would make it Ink. Just had to take a short cut." Ironia 'Rust' Knight said happily.

"I know! I thought we would be late for something but I guess not. I wonder what Vanity wishes to speak to me about though-"

"VAN INK THE DRAGON!"

"!?!" The DBT winces from the familiar shout to look up seeing Vanity who was crossing his arms and tapping his foot. It seems they were really late to make them sweatdrop.

"Uhhhhh..."

"Hello Ink and everyone else-"

"Your late." Vanity said to his daughter who laughed nervously seeing she upset her dad. Again.

"Ummmm, I can explain! I was uhhhhh..taking down some bad guys that was after our kingdom and all. You know how it is.." she said laughing but Vanity looks to her only to bonk her on the head. "OW, THAT HURTS!!!!"

"You were NOT I know you and I know you been causing trouble and doing something stupid again. I bet you forgot why I summoned you here didn't you?!"

"I didn't! You called because you wanted to talk about something right?" She rubs the bump on her head but Vanity groans feeling a headache.

"And what was it?" he said.

"...................I forgot."

He, with everyone else, falls to the ground twitching but Ink blinks to see that. Seems like she did. Vanity stood up but he looks to his daughter.

"Ink, it's been a few months since you all started learning to take over the human world THEN learning to rule over the humans to make them fellow followers. YOU as other demons that is known, were to give a status report and update following who you got to be alliance with. Remember? And and spreading the word of gaining new followers for the house!" he said.

"..Ohhhhhhhhh...yeah, I know that!" she said happy.

"Then have you?" he said with arms crossed.

"We made some! I did and the others did too for our own kingdoms and stuff in the demon world like you told me!" she said.

"She's right Lord Vanity. We were already informed by our own devils about this. We have been gathering and making new allies that helps with growing with us. Even learning of the human world too." Hellmare said quietly to him as Vanity looks to her then at Ink.

"I see....."

"Yeah, they told us about it in a meeting way back but we are still finding more and more followers, other demon youth royals in the demon world are willing to help us and so on. I say we are doing pretty good." Navarro said with arms crossed.

"..Hmm. Well, It's good to hear your all doing that well." Vanity said seeing the DBT nod. "However.." This made them blink. "You still need to work on some other things so we have a thing to explain." he said.

"And that is?" Ophelia said as Vanity sighed.

"Well....."

A few moments later, after he explains it to the group some silence was heard. Maybe they would understand the situation so things would go clear. However, a loud shout suddenly came from Vanity's throne room.

"MARRIAGE!? O.O"

" -_-xx"

Yeah, Vanity could see some panic but Ink was silent. Seems Vanity was spoken to about this with the other devils since they seen the progress of what is going on, time for a next step.

"You all heard me. I know you all have been doing well in that but also has done much. However, you all are up to that point of finding someone to wed in order to increase the alliances in your kingdoms. If you were to marry, you can make a more stronger alliance and allies, along with having someone to rule with you." Vanity said seeing the DBT silent now.

"Hold on! I thought you said we had more time and were doing this on our own." Shdwkyz said but Vanity sighed.

"Yeah, you didn't say this was something to be done early!" Fosh said nervous as well.

"If you all remember, I know and we did tell you that. Your devils told you this when you were being trained and taught of taking over the human world. However, this is also mainly for the devil houses you represent. Even if your powerful young men and women that serves and rule the lands as demons in your own kingdom here, sometimes you need to find help in order to become stronger when you head into the human world too so you can rule it."

"......"

"Back in my time, we didn't have much of a choice with who we married but most of our mates understood us so we were fine with it. Most, we didn't find any but we still grew our alliances back then."

"Okay, so we shouldn't need to marry right?" Ophelia said nervous.

"That was in the past and it was not as serious. But in this time now, it is. Just be lucky it might not come to arranged marriages. However, it won't happen unless it's needed. From your alliances, I'm sure you can think of someone to call a king or queen with you to represent your houses in the future. All I ask is to just listen to me. You still conquer your sections/kingdoms in the demon world as normal but in time you will have to think about that when going to the human world to take over it. That's coming and you know that!" he said.

"But that sucks though! DX Why now!? I don't wanna marry just yet! I don't have the time to worry about that!"Ink argues only for Vanity to argue back.

"YOU DON'T HAVE THAT MUCH OF A CHOICE INK AND KNOWING YOU, YOUR HARDHEADED TO EVEN LISTEN TO ME WHEN IT COMES TO THAT!" he shouted as the DBT blinks at the same time.

"THAT'S NOT FAIR! MARRIAGE IS WEIRD AND I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT!!! I LIVE AND WANT ADVENTURE BEFORE THAT!!!" she points at him comical while the DBT sighed.

"DON'T ARGUE WITH ME ON THIS! YOU KNOW THIS WILL BRING ANOTHER POWERFUL HOUSE ALLIANCE WITH US! THIS GOES FOR ALL THE KINGDOMS IN THE DEMON WORLD SO WHEN YOU TAKE OVER THE HUMAN WORLD YOU CAN DO THAT TOO AND GETTING MARRIED IS THE ONE STEP TOWARDS THAT!!" he shouted.

"MARRIAGE IS DUMB DX! I'LL NEVER GET MARRIED! NEVER!!!! YOU CAN NEVER MAKE ME GET MARRIED! NEVER!!"

"DON'T YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME, YOUNG LADY!"

"I'M A GROWN WOMAN! I CAN MAKE MY OWN CHOICES DAD!!" she and him argue growling at one another. Well, for a father and daughter moment that is.

"Oh I'm sure it's not that bad, Ink. Marriage isn't scary."Hellmare said smiling.

"BUT I DON'T WANNA!!!!"

"Seriously? Tch, well, too bad. You all will be in the future so unless you want your spouse picked for you, think of who you would want to marry in the future because sooner or later it's going to lead to arrange marriages. If you don't believe me, speak to your devils and they will tell you the same thing. Are we clear?" he said.

"Yes...." The DBT said but Ink grumbles not saying a word.

"Ink.." Vanity warns but she groans upset.

Ugghhhhh "Fine..."

"Good. Now, you are all off to go. Head back to your kingdom later today and train to learn more as you go. And think about what I said." he said seeing the DBT turning to leave even Ink to get some thought about it from her own house.

"I was not expecting that. How in the world didn't our devils tell us about that?" Maggie said.

"I don't know but it seems a bit of a pain." Oblivion said but the others sighed.

"Well, I'm sure the others were told of this too so it's nothing too serious. For now, lets just head back home." Jaron said as they did while Ink was upset along the way. When they were gone, Vanity sighed feeling a headache.

"Lord Vanity?" Senkai said.

"Get me a ale and some food..." he said but some did that.

"I'm sure everything will be fine sire. They will get at least someone.." he said.

"And that what worries me. However, I'm sure they will figure it out....I hope." he grumbles knowing the DBT along with the others had a long way to go. Oh boy.

#OOC #silver roses #ask answered #mun answered #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #the fractions of NYC #Devil Nobles au #demon noble rulers au #anon #peahen writer

[have-some-heals]

All we’ve lost: the team on enemies dropping candy…

“Okay but why do I have to wear this?” The warlock held the mask that was shaped like the mechanical dog AI the others had forced him to rescue from the doomed space station. His ghost scanned it and gave a dissatisfied chirp. Khione phased out knowing better than to argue about these silly holidays with the other ghosts and their guardian’s leaving the warlock to fend for himself.

In the distance Eva was talking to a few newer guardians who were clearly more excited than the warlock. He continued to look over the helmet and then at the titan who had brought it to him. “And you paid for this in golden age currency?” The warlock continued clearly dissatisfied with the whole situation.

Before the Titan could speak their guardian partner in crime grabbed the mask and quickly secured it over the warlocks head. “It’s rude not to use accept a gift! Isn’t that what you said when you found us and gave us our bows last year?” Sybll chimed straightening out the warlocks robes that he had finally let her restyle. “Plus with the new colors Veles and I added to your fancy robe dress it matches!”

The hunters ghost twisted in its shell before circling the warlock and, out of sight to the warlock, gave a nod to the hunter in approval before floating back to the hunter’s personal space. “Oh no… don’t get me involved in this mess” Veles said before he circled over to Nova. The two ghosts did a little circle of each other before fading out in unison leaving the three guardians in the tower.

“If you don’t want to wear it you don’t gotta…” the exo titan started. “It’s just that since my memory wipe incident I don’t really recall last years event… Ana said she was working on it but she wasn’t very optimistic…” Ardent-2 rubbed the back of his mental cased head holding a mask under his other arm. “I just thought given all that happened with Crota being resurrected and with Ace being stuck babysitting Immaru…” he waved his hand “never mind it was stupid” the titan turned away from the two and looked out over the city.

An ache washed over the titan but he wasn’t sure why. He’d always hated Tuesday because these meeting about changes and new battle plans and rises of old or new enemies weren’t his thing but today something else was bothering him. His eyes traced over the titan vanguard. The man that had trained him when he first made his way back from Europa… but now looking at him caused the ache to grow. Normally when he had these feelings a talk and tune up with Amanda would put him in check. But she wasn’t in the hangar bay anymore to joke about opening him up, nor to share a cup of hot cocoa. “I just thought we could use a bit of fun… I could use a bit of fun” the titan put on his mask and activated his ships transmat system vanishing without saying goodbye.

“Now look what you did” the hunter scolded the warlock giving him a gentle shove. “Put in the mask and meet us in orbit in 10 or forget about our little secret” she said running towards the side of the tower. The hunter jumped off the end of the platform and moments later her ship could be seen shooting off past the cabal ships through the restricted air space. An announcement rang through the tower a few moments after.

“Guardians are reminded that all ships must use the approved landing and take off zones. In cases of emergencies…” The warlock pulled the mask off himself and held it out in front of him with both hands.

“Khione… can you get the ship ready and set a flight plan for the Cosmodrome, where we first met? I want to see if there are any more clues” the warlock put the mask back on and pulled out the old photo he’d found where Khione has first brought him back. Each year on the anniversary of his resurrection he made a point to go back and spend some time there, hoping he might remember. The photo was worn, dirty, and he couldn’t make out the full faces of the other two people in the photo. The writing on the back had worn and faded as well but he could just make out names: his own shortened, Rowan, and, Kai.

He tucked the photo away and looked around the tower. Everyone was so happy and while the hunter and titan wanted to celebrate he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to give soon. There had been to many losses and the whiteness hadn’t even blinked at them… yet…

#probably has many errors but meh #aceofcaydes01 #mentioned other’s characters #loss #destiny 2 #orignal character #Syblls back story isn’t sad because hunters are just inherently sad… like the characters description legit says they are loners…

[howlingday]

a man needs a maid au) jaune arc was no fool, he knew his mother was scheming when he hired his three maids, yang, ruby, and pyrrha. but despite himself he can't quite manage to send them all away. life with them is simply too much fun, and if he needs to deal with a little chaos as a payment for having them around? well he was willing to pay it. after all

a man needs a maid

(a little focus on our favorite noodle and his daily life with 1 and a half competent maids. yang only does right half the time and ruby tends to get distracted easily pyrrha is hyper-competent tho)

"Good morning, Master Jaune!" The young billionaire awoke to the angelic voice of his maid, Pyrrha Nikos, as she opened the bedroom curtains. He sat up and rubbed his head, feeling the dull throb of a hangover from the night before. He looked to his left at the nightstand, finding headache medicine and a glass of water. "I hope you slept well, sir."

Pyrrha was the first girl hired by Jaune's mother to be his maid. She was once a rising star athlete, but after a blackmail scandal involving another athlete, she was forced to retire. But her life was all the better for it because she met Jaune. It was also pleasing when Jaune sued the other girl for extorting her rivals, which was later revealed to be Pyrrha's old agent's doing. He sued him, too.

"Well enough." Jaune grumbled, reaching for the medicine. He popped two tablets out of their silver package, before downing the full glass of water. With a sigh, he set the glass down and threw the bedsheets off. "Did I miss anything after going to bed?"

"No, sir." Pyrrha answered as she approached his side. "You were awake until after every guest had left. You then climbed the stairs to bed, where you promptly fell asleep after you undressed."

"Aw, no cute girls joined me?" Jaune teased, sliding out of bed. Pyrrha pouted before looking away. He chuckled. "I'm kidding, Pyr. Nobody at the party was my type anyway." He pecked her cheek, making his way to the bathroom in just his underwear.

Pyrrha couldn't help but watch him intensely. After all, she was head of security at Avalon, home of Jaune Arc, billionaire CEO of Vanguard Battle Industries. She needed to focus on protecting her benefactor's assets.

And what an asset he carried.

Jaune sat down for breakfast, his cereal and bowl ready for him. Yang Xiao Long entered with the jug of cold milk in it's jug. As she handed him his milk, she leaned forward, exposing as much cleavage as she could. She loved to tease him, especially in the morning.

Yang was the second girl hired, and she was a package deal with her younger sister. After her father passed away, Yang had to make ends meet in the underground fight ring to support the two. Jaune was feeling feisty on night and attended. She knocked him flat on his ass and knocked out three of his teeth. With a smile, he handed her his card. When his mother found out, she was furious with him, but sympathetic with the girls. She hired them on, and Yang rewards him with peep shows and panty shots, along with a few boxing lessons to keep it legit.

"I hope everything is to your liking, master~." Yang crooned as she licked her lips. Jaune chuckled at the attention she gave him. When he first hired her, he would blush and look away. Now, though, he was so used to it, he found it more endearing than arousing. "Any cravings you have other than milk~?"

"No, this should be good enough for the morning." He took a spoonful of his Pumpkin Pete's cereal. He glanced at the newspaper, crunching through the artificial pumpkin flavoring. With a gulp, he set down his spoon. "Huh, so she finally did it."

"Who did what?" Yang asked.

"Weiss." Jaune answered, handing her the newspaper. "She finally bought out SDC and took over the company."

"Really?" Yang took the paper as Jaune ate. "Heh, that's funny. I'm glad Ice Queen finally got her kingdom."

"I'm just glad Jacques is finally out. Maybe some good will come from SDC, instead of hazardous work with dirt-cheap minimum wage."

"You gonna say that to the press?" Yang teased.

"Yeah, after I tell everyone I'm dating you."

"You still haven't taken me out yet."

"In due time, Yang. In due time."

Jaune was now fully dressed for his weekend at home alone. Well, alone with his three maids. He was wearing a comfortable pair of sweatpants, and his Pumpkin Pete hoodie he won with the cereal he bought with his own money (his first true accomplishment), and a pair of socks perfect for the weather. In front of him, watching cartoons with him, was his youngest maid, Ruby Rose, kicking her feet while on her elbows.

Ruby was hired with Yang, something they referred to as a package deal. Jaune chuckled at that, saying he wouldn't have it any other way. When they first met, Ruby was so small, shivering when there wasn't even a breeze. After they were hired, Jaune demanded she be his personal taste tester. He would refuse to eat any meals until Ruby had tested them for "poison," going through an entire course to be certain. The once small girl... was still small, but now had a bit more weight to her, which Jaune confirmed was the healthy amount for her age.

"Do you think Prince Armada knows he's being played?" Ruby asked, staring at the TV.

"What do you mean?" Jaune asked, leaning forward.

"Well, he's the Prince of his entire kingdom, but Wolf Girl keeps tricking him into her games. He's always being put into crazy situations by her."

"He doesn't seem to show it." Jaune answered. "But if he did know, what does that say about him?"

"That he's a glutton for pain." Ruby replied. "She keeps making these traps and inventions, and she always makes him her Guinea pig. He falls for it every time."

"What if he likes her, but he's too shy to tell her, so this is his only way to get close to her."

Ruby looked back at Jaune with a confused look. She looked at him like he was something she pulled out of the drain. "It's a kids show!"

Jaune shrugged. "And yet we're two grown adults watching it."

Ruby scoffed. "You're the adult. I'm still 17!"

"Until next week." Jaune smiled. "Anything you want for your eighteenth? It's a big year."

Ruby hummed, then shook her head. "Nothing comes to mind."

"If you're sure, Ruby. But I'll get you something nice anyways."

"Okay!" Ruby then looked back to her cartoon.

Jaune smiled as he noticed Yang and Pyrrha approaching. They carried dust pans, brooms, and feather dusters in their hands. It looks like break time was over. It would be a quiet Sunday for the most part, but hopefully not uneventful.

After all, a man needs excitement as much as a man needs a maid.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #pyrrha nikos #a man needs a maid #rwby au

[kobblefort]

Rushsly: Second Cavern Arc 2

Our stockkeeper (remember her? fuck dude, I don't) apparently threw herself into the fray, and for her troubles gets her clothes rips to shreds and a steel spear jammed in her gut. I have no idea why the fuck she was there, she's not in the military, I would really fucking prefer it if she was not there but I guess she just sort of decided to join in. Awesome.

Our main doctor throws himself into the fray, too - ideally he's just there to rescue anyone who gets hurt in the conflict, but then he ends up charging ahead of the soldiers like he's the fucking vanguard. And because that wasn't fucking chaotic enough...

Shislik gives birth to twins. Yes, right there, in the middle of the fucking battle.

It does not slow her down.

It's over.

The only one to take any serious scrapes was Aslas Spoilsutters, who lost her tail, fractured her spleen (I don't understand how you fracture an organ but ok...) and lost the ability to stand. I'm not sure if she'll pull through. I hope so. I need to figure out what the hell she was actually doing getting involved in the first place. For now, there's cleanup to be done.

Ace chalked up another four. And with her literally-just-born babies in tow, all she wants to do is keep sparring. Shycla Cystnoble, her sparring partner du jour, got her own first kill in the melee, as did Rias Squarelauds, a fellow swordmaster.

Most promising of the new recruits is Saraz Fishedpraise, who scored just as many kills as the Beast Slayer herself, and is already a competent spearbold and skilled striker in barely any time at all. Maybe some day he'll be a proper Beast Slayer himself - I'm noting down that he likes talc, electrum, moonstones, and... green glass? Well I don't know where to get talc or how to make electrum but he really ended up in the right fucking place for green glass. And as you can see in that screenshot, Aslas is up and moving again. She's a bit faint, and she'll need a billon crutch to get around, but she can get right back to keeping stock of the kobble economy, with losing her entire tail barely registering as a hiccup.

I can't be sure how many of these were actually killed in the ambush, rather than earlier by the forgotten beasts as they rampaged through the first cavern layer, but on top of those, we have an additional 4 caged prisoners who, after the failure of the arena idea, we are simply just going to throw down a big hole so that they die, as is apparently our custom now. And just like that, besides - or, well, maybe including - the giant eyeless lobster lurking in the depths, things just go right back to normal. And so, with just a bit of greed in my heart, I decide it might be a good time to dig down to elevation -100 - out of a total of 129. The chances get higher and higher of running into "Hidden Fun Stuff" with each level, so if you're concerned about endgame spoilers, I won't be offended if you tap out. It seems a bit early to be saying "endgame," considering our fort isn't even populated with 100 kobbles yet, much less the Winged One and their entourage, but most forts simply do not survive cracking into their first big adamantite vein. I have a good feeling about Rushsly, but my intuition is often wrong. And while nothing happens when we hit the depths...

On the first cavern layer again, a big-ass bird with "deadly blood" arrives. Hyahyata the Deep. I'm not busting out the MS Paint effortmode for this one, its name isn't cool enough, sorry. We've near-completely closed off the first layer after the olm men ambush, besides two barred-shut doors - glass doors, again, unfortunately, but they should hold well enough against a creature with literally hollow bones. This will be another fight for the marksbold squadron, and we're straight to work fortifying another position to fire upon it from. It flutters around the cavern wildly, but doesn't seem to have caught the kobbles' scent or anything.

We quickly carve out a turret, station the marksbolds and have them wait just a moment for it to fly by, and when it does -

A single shot from Dralas Containedbanded tears through the great bird's wing, sending it careening around 20 Z-levels down, where it splatters into pieces upon hitting the ground.

Well, congratulations to our newest Beast Slayer. He'll need a room built right away - though both aluminum and orpiment only occur near magma, which besides the filthy bit of cheating I did way back at the start, still hasn't been discovered anywhere in the 112 Z-levels we've explored (from the highest bird tower, 7 to the lowest mine shaft, 105 - yeah I went a little deeper than I said I would.) In fact, in the greatest simulation game of all time Dwarf Fortress aluminum is tied with platinum for the second most valuable metal. I really prefer hooking up my Beast Slayers with their preferred elements, but it seems like even if we find some all the way at the very bottom of the earth, it'll be a chore to get it back up and smelted. But fuck it, this whole game is about chores anyway. You do chores so that your funny little computer screen characters can do more chores. Let's keep digging. Alllll the way down to 115, why the hell not?

And then we breach the third and final cavern layer. Beyond this can surely only be Hidden Fun Stuff. Starting to feel a bit stupid for calling this the 'Second Cavern Arc,' LOL!!!!!! But it's fine. We'll seal up the hole quickly and set about safely surveying the area. And, obviously, getting some aluminum for our troubles would be really nice.

All the way up on the surface, another one of these dumbfucks gets caught by the Bird Tower.

A lot more than one, actually, but they get scared and fucking scatter when they see the armadillo that just sort of lives outside our gates... roll up into a ball and unroll a couple times.

Fuck, it's actually a whole-ass ambush though!! The clever bastards managed to trick us into sending out our main force instead of hunkering down. Well, any kobble worth their weight in rocks can appreciate a good trap. The question is, will they regret it, or will we?

I wish I could rewind the game to capture GIFs sometimes, because one of the ratfolk literally exploded into a shower of its constituent parts like a firework.

Yeah I think they're the ones who regret it. Though in the fray, we noticed some gnoll thieves among their ranks - the ratfolk making any kind of alliances is obviously troublesome, and we don't know whether the gnolls will prove any tougher than the ratfolk. And oh shit

Zil Dentedleaks took a nasty injury in the fray, and awaits rescue by its fellow it/its bitch Kody Inkblighted, who doesnt even finish its drink before heading over to carry Zil to the hospital.

Zhag Gillpoker, one of the newer recruits, took a nasty scrape himself, and so they'll be keeping each other company in the hospital.

Closer analysis reveals Zil might have gotten hurt a lot worse than we initially thought - having your spine and its nervous tissue "torn apart" seems like the kind of injury that could end a career entirely. Though it and Zhag are both up within just a few days - Zil with a crutch - and they attempt to get straight back to training.

But winter is a time of rest for the kobbles, and so they're finally taken off duty for the season. Around just the same time, a farmers' guild is established, and they petition for a guildhall to organize in.

It's really no bother at all. You want a guild hall? Here, have a grand one. Zinc, iron and crystal glass floors with a platinum accent in the middle. Detailed billon walls and a gold pillar at the entrance. Worth a whopping 12706 whatever-the-symbol-is whatever-the-currency-means-eroo's. Go nuts guys I don't give a shit. We're rich

Shycla decides what she'll do with her free time is stand around the site of the carnage and just think about stories she's been told.

And just like that, we're suddenly very busy.

We've got more than a few gold and platinum crafts to start passing around to all these lovely guests. But the trading will have to wait for next time, because this has been quite an exciting, information-dense session and I can feel my brain overheating a little bit. Next time we'll be buying some crap (if anything is worth buying,) surveying the final cavern layer and building Dralas a nice Beast Slayer bedroom. And much like an episode of Mobile Suit Gundam that lulls you into a false sense of confidence, I'm going to end this episode by randomly blurting out WHO WILL SURVIVE???

#dwarf fortress #kobblefort

[africanization101]

I’ve been following your and other similar blogs for a while now, and I must admit they all made me reflect a lot, but in the end I must say your thesis does not correspond to reality (for now). I think that, biologically speaking, a woman unconsciously wants a stable partner that can grant a future to the family. So for instance where I live, in Southern Europe, black people have a recent immigration history and women could maybe desire them for a one night stand or something similar, but when it comes to having a long relationship or establishing a family..... I think they would not choose a black man, not even because of racism but rather because of the poor conditions they still live in. If the situation changes in the future, then mixed families could become more frequent (although I really can’t see how their situation could financially improve),but for what I can see now, the equation here is black=poor=bad partner, might fuck him but never marry. (keep in mind that we are not the US and the relationship between white and black people is not the same).

I totally agree with your assessment of the situation! But you may not fully realize what you're saying here: your claim (which I believe is accurate) is that there is no substantial coupling between white women and Black men in Europe because the latter are usually economically disadvantaged on account of being recent immigrants, refugees, menial workers and so on. If that's the entirety of the problem ... then how will the predictions on my blog not come to pass on a long enough timeline? With "long enough" being 1-2 generations, mind you.

Even if the current generation of Black immigrants remain stuck in their position, it's not like they'll be celibate; they tend to find girlfriends or wives among the African diaspora population or they simply bring them over on a family reunification visa. These couples will have children who will attend European schools and integrate into the larger society. At this point, they stop being outsiders and become eligible partners on par with their white peers. I should note that this interracial phenomenon is already happening in many working-class parts of Western Europe.

I'm aware of the IR captions of white women presenting their butts for refugee boats and obviously that's a horny fever dream. But the long-term social consequences of African immigration are not a fever dream; yes, we are not the United States, but we're not that far behind them either in terms of our racial discourses and imagination.

We're all children of our times and tumblr is a comparatively young space; 30 years ago, when most of us were either not born yet or babies, the idea that European countries could have substantially mixed populations was simply not there, not even because of racism, but because it was too far-fetched to even serve as a fantasy. Now you're here telling me that this idea might take a minute longer because of adverse social factors. That's a massive paradigm shift that is hard to appreciate if you didn't live through it. I didn't and I can't really appreciate it myself; I can only try to describe it.

On a different note, your comment focused on the favored IR pairing of Black men and white women. I know white men are often stereotyped as cuckolds in our space, but as it turns out, many white men are not cuckolds and quite free to pick their partners and at least where I live, I have seen a notable uptick in white man/Black woman pairings, often involving a baby stroller. I'm reasonably sure these Black women were first-generation immigrants, but because of the nature of heterosexual dating, their disadvantaged economic status did not matter all that much. There's your interracial vanguard. I'm sure more PC (pornographically correct) pairings will follow in due time.

In any case, even if it will take a while for stable interracial families to emerge as a large-scale phenomenon, you yourself admitted that this does not preclude the occasional fling and general sexual interest. However problematic some people may think it is, the BBC phenomenon has definitely arrived in Europe already and will continue to find adherents. And the rest is (or will at some point be) history.

[thefirstknife]

I only started playing last season, and now we can go back and play the old exotic missions, would you mind giving me (and others who didn't play the past seasons) a rundown on the story behind them?

With pleasure!!!! Presage is my favourite thing in the Destiny ever so I'm more than happy to, and the other two are also really cool. So first, this week is Presage.

Presage was an exotic mission from Season of the Chosen, which was the second season of the Beyond Light year. We were in negotiations with Caiatl at the time, still not anywhere near being fully friendly. During these negotiations, we detected a signal for a ship ("Glykon Volatus") which was later found abandoned and derelict in the Reef (the start of the quest had to be found in a crate in a secret area in the Arms Dealer strike):

After talking to Zavala, who wanted to investigate this personally because it appeared to involve one Guardian being exposed to Darkness on a ship belonging to Calus, we start the mission! The Vanguard authorised salvage operation is led by "Osiris," at the time largely unknown that this was actually Savathun in disguise. Caiatl joins "Osiris" in the operation and this was one of the first times we actually had a relatively normal and friendly conversation with Caiatl, despite Savathun's best efforts to rile her up at certain points.

Here's the playlist with all parts of the quest and all voice lines and stuff. Here's the lore book we uncovered through scannables hidden in secret compartments. In short, Calus hijacked a ship called Glykon Volatus in order to have a vessel to gather a mass of Scorn and bring them to the proximity of the anomaly of a missing planet, in this case Mars. Calus wanted to use the Scorn as a sort of an antenna that can channel Darkness through them by linking their minds with the help of Psions and the Crown of Sorrow. He believed that this would allow him, through the anomaly of Mars, to speak to the "Voice in the Darkness," the thing he met once before in deep space that promised him to be its herald. Calus had grown disappointed in the meantime because the thing never appeared to him again, despite his best efforts to follow its commands, so he sought to talk to it again.

Glykon was pushed to its limits and plunged into the anomaly. Most of the Scorn, except one, have died through gruesome experiments. The one that survived, the Locus of Communion, turned into a monster stalking the soldiers on the ship and killing them. As the ship went into the anomaly, it got infested with egregore, twisted and fused improperly, leaving only the Scorn "alive" to wander around the hallways. The Guardian onboard, called Katabasis, eventually died and begged his Ghost to keep him dead until help arrived, but he and his Ghost (Gilgamesh) developed a strained relationship, stemming from their collective trauma of the Red War and what they've been through then. Gilgamesh became more and more fascinated by the Voice in the Darkness, eventually becoming completely corrupted.

The ship emerged from the anomaly "wrong," abandoned in the Reef. Then we came along, got through it's confusing passageways and hallways, we killed as many Scorn as possible and took care of the Locus. We also learned, for the first time, that there's a difference between Darkness as a force and the "Voice in the Darkness" as an entity, eventually leading us to the Witness. Presage was our first real exposure to that idea and it came from Savathun, who I guess couldn't resist to tease us just enough, but not fully explain it. This also set up Calus' disappearance and transformation that we would later see in Season of the Haunted and Duality. Once he managed to do what he wanted in Presage, he disappeared until the Leviathan returned, equally infested with egregore after also having gone into an anomaly (though a different one). The Glykon was basically Calus' test run. This was also our first proper introduction of egregore; although we've seen it before on Drifter's ship, we didn't have a name or classification for it until Presage.

The other two under:

Vox Obscura was an exotic mission in Season of the Risen, which was the first season of the Witch Queen year. It focuses on the Psion Conclave (sometimes Enclave), a group of Psions who have split off into their own thing all the way back following Season of Dawn and Worthy. They follow in the footsteps of the Psion sisters that hijacked the Sundial and tried crashing the Almighty into the Last City. Their leader is Yirix, curiously, a Psion that participated in Calus' experiments on the Glykon Volatus who has also met Katabasis there.

Yirix has been suspicious for long, but she and her Psions defected from Caiatl when Caiatl freed all Psions; some Psions saw this as a loss of rank, because before being freed, some would rise up the ranks and have a unique status among Psions. Not only that, but Caiatl clearly allied herself with the Vanguard and humans, something that this group could not abide by and still wanted vengeance for the Psion sisters from years ago. Psions under Yirix were also the ones who attempted an assassination on Zavala. Yirix organised psionic broadcasts to be sent across the system, only detectable to other Psions, encouraging Psions to defect from Caiatl, enticing mutiny and even going as far as to urge defectors to join the Black Fleet.

Caiatl asked us for help with dealing with these broadcasts and the Psions involved. We stormed the base where they're hiding, in an old bunker on Mars and made our way through to stop the transmissions. Among the transmissions were also Psionic prophecies that have, since then, all come true. Playlist for the mission stuff. These were the prophecies, as Caiatl saw them, in the final visit:

These must be Psionic divinations! Impressions of things yet to come. I never dreamed I would see them for myself. I... I see... a city, besieged. The Shipstealer revived. The Leviathan reborn. Your Traveler infected by Darkness... these are the futures our enemies seek. We must remain united if we are to forge a different path.

The "city besieged" is most likely referring to Neomuna, making this and the final prophecy the furthest away. Shipstealer revived would happen 2 seasons later, in Plunder. Leviathan reborn would happen a season after, in Haunted. Finally, "Traveler infected by Darkness" is very likely referring to the portal at the end of Lightfall.

This is a much different exotic mission, much more action oriented. It also has several timers as we constantly have to rush against time to stop the Psions from achieving their goals.

Operation Seraph Shield was an exotic mission in Season of the Seraph, final season of the Witch Queen year. In this season, we were trying to finally rebuild Rasputin so he would defend us against Xivu Arath's invasion. As part of the preparation for that, we had to secure an orbital station above Earth where it was possible to gain control of the Warsat network.

The Witness instructed Eramis to assist Xivu Arath and take control of the station, and therefore the Warsats so that we can't use them to protect ourselfs. We needed to make sure that this network is safe in our hands so we launched into an operation to clear the station from Eliksni interference and keep the Warsats safe. The station was not only attacked by Eramis' Eliksni, but also by Xivu Arath's Hive and the Scorn, which at the time we learned the Witness was making from Eliksni on purpose (as a way of both punishment and control of Eramis) with the final boss being Eramis' ex-lieutenant Praksis, but now as a Scorn.

We make our way through the station, bypassing various security protocols and removing the enemies from the base, making sure that the Warsat network is safe. We also find an exotic gun in there! Playlist here.

Ultimately, despite all of that work, we end up losing the station to Eramis who shows up herself in the final mission of the season and locks herself in the room with access to the Warsat network. This all culminates in the final cutscene of the Season of the Seraph. This mission is unique in that way, because despite our best efforts and all that work, we end up failing and Eramis gains access anyway. We lose the Warsats and Rasputin at the same time, but on the upside, that prevents the Traveler from being shot down and Xivu Arath isn't capable of moving her army through the ascendant plane.

I'm sure these will all be really cool to play through for the first time! Highly recommended to go through them with as little information as possible. I tried adding mostly the context for the missions here, and some background information, but I feel it should still be interesting to go through them on your own for the first time.

#destiny 2 #presage mission #vox obscura mission #seraph's shield mission #long post #ask

[genshin-impact-fics]

I love your fatui! reader x genshin really tugged on my heartstrings right there.

if it's alright can i ask for a continuation for keqing? 👉🏻👈🏻 like the two of them inevitably have to fight each other ft. other fatui and keqing gets overwhelmed so the reader ultimately betrays her peers and gets gravely injured (i live for the angst-hurt/comfort)

again thank you for writing this it was definitely a fun read 😊

Thank you so much, I really enjoyed writing it as hopefully I'll do more for other characters! I love continuations so I was so happy to write this. I also apologize for not getting this out sooner as I had this in the works with a few other things; however, a couple of personal things came up. But that aside I do hope you enjoy this as I hope you don't mind that I did a hybrid of scenario/fic.

Keqing was asked to go investigate the suspicious activity that was going on near the entrance of the mines with only the mention that it is possibly involving the Fatui. On her travels to get to the location of course her mind had wondered to what she’d possibly find; then the thought of you popped into her head.

It had been so long… Maybe a couple of months since she last saw you since she cut ties after finding out you were with the enemy. There couldn’t be a possibility that you were still in Liyue after the whole incident that had taken place right, she didn’t want to worry about coming to come face to face when the pain and the memories of that day was still very fresh in Keqing’s head

Whatever or whoever was seemingly up to no good, Keqing’s resolve to keep all of Liyue and Liyue Harbor safe stayed strong. Upon arrival so far there had not been a soul in her sights, but of course continued to look around to see if she could find any signs of evidence that people were there. It was after a while of searching that Keqing walked up a couple of stairs until she heard a voice talking. She only saw two figures, one kneeling before the standing figure

“Boss, the rubble that’s blocking the entryway to the Chasm is far greater than initially suspected… It may take us longer to clear it all out,” the masked agent kneeling said. Keqing’s eyes widened at the new information as holding her sword in hand she rushed over to put a stop to the Fatui’s plans. “Stop right there,” she shouted getting both the agents attention; however, the kneeling agent was the only one who jumped up and looked at her

“Leave this to me, get back to the others and get the job done,” the other figure spoke as at that moment she knew right away it was you. When it was just the two of them Keqing’s hold on her sword loosened as she watched as the hood was pulled off. “Of all the people that could have been sent it had to be you… I really wish this wasn’t how we met again,” you said with a small sigh fully turned to face her removing your mask revealing the glimmer of the eyes Keqing had fallen in love with

“What’s the meaning of all of this (Y/n),” she asked as she was mad, she should be mad yet her heart betrayed her as it raced at the sight of you. “Unfortunately that’s classified information,” was all you spoke having a soft expression on your face before you summoned your weapon. “I’d much rather not fight you but knowing you, you just won’t simply walk away… So you give me no other choice.”

The fight between you two was fast as flashes of your elements clashed together blow for blow. The sounds of metals clashing and striking one another till eventually you both skidded apart from each other heavily breathing, small nicks and tears in clothing. The brief moment of the wind passing through before Keqing sprinted forward attacking again.

“You’re a traitor! A Lair,” Keqing shouted, striking her sword at (Y/n) who was simply blocking and staying on the defensive side. “You have every right to be angry with me; I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I knew if I did you wouldn’t give me the chance to explain, but please believe me when I say that I dated you because I loved you; I wasn’t trying to use you,” You further said blocking the barrage of attacks. Keqing gritted her teeth as she felt the ache of her chest; how could she believe anything you said, for all she knew you were simply trying to sweet talk her. “How can I believe you when you told them everything that I told you and everything that was in the Jade Chamber,” She shouted angrily, swinging her blade.

Her words of her assumptions of what you possibly did brought a sharp pain to your chest; instead of using your weapon to stop her attack you grabbed the blade by the hand; the small pain of the blade cutting into the skin causing blood to seep out. Looking at her with a hurt expression you looked Keqing in her purple eyes as she was staring back with a shocked expression by your actions. “You-you really think I’d stoop that low to tell the Fatui all the things you’ve told me about and what was in the Jade Chamber? I never told them anything; I might be working for them, but I’ve kept all of our conversations and that of the Chamber to myself this whole time,” You said, causing Keqing to freeze at your words in complete bewilderment. Though before any more words could be exchanged during your fight, the sound of a gun being shot, the two of you jumped back to watch a bullet engulfed in flames hit the dirt of where the two of you just were.

The other members had suddenly appeared shooting attacks as one of the Vanguards charged Keqing. Panic started to slowly overtake you as you had to watch Keqing fight off the others. “What are you all doing?! I told you to get the job done didn’t I,” You shouted trying to get them to back down, but it didn’t seem to be working. “We’ll make quick work of this one,” The Bracer said, aiming his gun to fire another round. Glancing back to Keqing it was clear she was doing her best to at most keep up and dodge the enemies attacks. In this crucial moment there was a decision to be made: to either walk away and let the others continue the fight and simply pray Keqing would flee or betray the Fatui in order to save the woman you still very much loved. Finally coming to your decision you first attacked the bracer to get him out of the way before running over to handle the rest. Getting knocked down Keqing was doing her best to get right back up, but only managed to sit herself up; her attention now on the electro vanguard who’s hammer was up in the air about to come down on her. Closing her eyes she waited for the impact… However after not feeling anything she opened her eyes only for them to widen at the scene before her; there you stood your weapon blocking the hammer before managing to push the tall man back.

“Who do you all think you are?! How dare you go against my orders like a bunch of morons,” You shouted angrily as though she couldn’t see the look on your face, she could only imagine how mad you were. “For your unacceptable behavior you all will face punishment,” you now spoke in a much lower tone, your vision surprisingly enough started to change to a different color before you charged at the other members of the Fatui. It still almost felt unreal of the turn of events that have taken place yet here you were fighting your own peers to protect her, the feeling of guilt creeping in on how she treated you. The fight dragged on a while longer until the last remaining members fled while they could, leaving you to stand by yourself with the few bodies that laid on the ground. You turned around to look over to Keqing to check on her and to your relief she wasn’t hurt too much. “You okay,” you asked, feeling your body grow heavy and tired from the wounds you’ve sustained. Blinking she snapped out of her trance and nodded her head uttering a small yes. “That’s… Good,” you replied smiling before falling over.

“(Y/n),” Keqing shouted, scurrying up to get to you, carefully turning you over gasping at the sight of how grave your injuries were. “Hey! Hey,” she loudly said cupping the side of your face to make you look at her as a flurry of mixed emotions were going on. “What’s the big idea huh?! What do you think you were doing,” she asked sternly as it pained her to see you in such a horrible condition. A weak laugh came out as you reached up a hand to overlap the one holding the side of your face running a thumb over her hand in a comforting manner. “I was pro-tecting you of… Course,” you answered before a hard cough briefly stopping you from talking. “It-it’s okay if you still… Hate me, but I hope that… At least this makes up… For all the bad I’ve done,” you further spoke, wincing when trying to breathe. Tears falling, Keqing feeling the weight of your words hit her heart hard, regretting how cruel she was. The rain started to fall, Keqing couldn’t just mope around and let you die; putting her strong urge to cry aside, she carefully picked up your body and made a run back to the harbor as hopefully Dr. Baizhu would be able to help.

Who knew how long you had been out for, though much to your surprise you were actually alive but how? The sight of an unfamiliar ceiling was the first thing you saw before you tried to move to sit up to further investigate your surroundings. “Don’t you dare try to move, you’ll only reopen your wounds,” the stern voice of Keqing rang in your ears as looking over she was now right beside you causing a small strained laugh out of you. “How could you be laughing, you could have died,” She said now sitting on the edge as she had a sad expression on her face. “Hehe sorry, sorry… But really if it meant that I knew you were safe I was well prepared to die,” You answered as suddenly Keqing was now gently hugging you and the soft sound of her crying reached your ears. “You idiot, you can’t go dying on me! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for how cruel I was to you and all those harsh things I said to you. I love you so don’t try throwing your life away for me!” she spoke, carefully hugging you firmer. It brought a relief to you to hear that she still loved you so in return you put a hand on her back and rubbed it in a comforting manner. “It’s alright I never held it against you, though if it makes you feel better then I forgive you… I will always protect you, you’re the love of my life,” you responded with a soft smile. Having begun the mending of your relationship you two shared a short kiss before Keqing brought over some food and medicine for you to take; it would take time for you to get better, but at least you were still alive.

#genshin impact #keqing x y/n #genshin keqing #angst/comfort #genshin scenario #genshin fanfic #fatui!reader x genshin #fatui!reader x keqing #genshin x reader

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: A Balmy Tuesday in Hell

Taking a break from the prompt requests to wish a very happy birthday to @snailbutters! Tbh I like this idea a lot and I’m tempted to expand on it more. Cross posted on AO3. 

xxx

When Mike went looking for a part-time job to earn some spending money, he had a hard time finding one that worked around his college class schedule. All the good on-campus jobs were taken, and most of the ones he found offsite required him to be up way too early or way too late with very little flexibility. 

The front desk position at the Beelzebob, a local hair salon advertising an array of “wicked styles” for any occasion, was not the most glamorous position, but it welcomed part timers and offered flexible schedules to be discussed on a case by case basis. It was at the tail end of a long week of job hunting with little to show for it, and Mike was tired. Still, he dragged himself all the way there after his three-hour Friday seminar and put on his best retail charm for the interview. 

One of the stylists told him to wait in the lobby while she grabbed the manager for his interview, and so Mike sat in a plush, purple chair and eyed the stack of magazines on the coffee table—HJi, Professional Beauty, NHF, and others he recognized from Googling “how to work at a hair salon” last night. A playlist that seemed to consist entirely of K-pop pumped ripples of bubblegum bass through the speakers and had Mike tapping his fingers on his hip. There was no one behind the sleek, glass reception desk, so Mike got up and wandered over to it. He tried to imagine himself with the headset on, fielding phone calls and helping customers pick out one of the many luxury hair products on the walls behind the desk. He touched his own brown hair—plain and getting a bit long, but styled with a little wax for the day—and worried about whether he should have tried a bit harder for this interview. Would he be judged on his own hair? That seemed reasonable enough—

“This simply won’t do.”

Mike startled at the lyrical voice and turned around to find a seven-foot, red-skinned demon in Lululemons appraising him over an enterprising nose. Which would have been a cause for mild to moderate alarm even in Metroville—a hub for lowlifes, Supervillains, and the occasional monster on a mission out of Townsville farther north—except that Mike recognized this particular demon. At which point he got the pun in the name of this place and smiled. 

“Him,” he squeaked. And then, remembering his high school retail training: “I mean, Mr. Him.”

Him—Prince of Pestilence, Duke of Depravity, Earl of Evil, et cetera—blushed the color of an open wound. “You’re house trained, I see. All right, this way.”

Him turned on his Louboutin heel and headed into the salon. Mike hurried after Him, unsure whether this was good or bad. Him led him to a styling chair and sat him down. A purple salon cape made its way around Mike’s neck with a flamenco flourish, and Him leaned over his head in the reflection. 

“What are we thinking?”

Mike eyed his potential future employer from perfectly curled goatee to artificial mink lashes and hesitated. 

This is a test. 

It had to be. Surely, anyone manning the phones had to know something about haircare in general. If he was to be the vanguard, the watcher on the Wall, he would have to be able to alert his colleagues of the incoming threats and answer questions about how to fend off anything from tangles to split ends. Mike tried to remember the last time he got a haircut; Boomer had been with him, his eye far more discerning than Mike’s. 

“Comb over,” Mike said. 

“Quiff?”

“More faux hawk.” He tried not to think of the heat on the back of his neck, and instead of the sly grin on Boomer’s face the last time he’d been under the scissors. “With a low fade. Um, please.”

Him’s fangs gleamed when he grinned. “Good choice.”

For a demon with claws the size of dinner plates, Him was surprisingly adroit and precise to a literal razor’s edge. In fact, Mike was certain Him must sharpen his claws to get them sharp enough to shave the hair from the nape of his neck, which seemed like a sensible time-saver. Blackpink’s Pretty Savage blared over the speaker as Him coifed and styled the thicker locks that remained on top of Mike’s head, combed to the left in enviable, anti-gravity perfection. 

“Wow.” He touched the side of his head, marveling at the close but generous cut and the perfect blend. “This has to be the best haircut I’ve ever gotten.”

He got up and removed the cape, only to find Him with a broom in his claw. “I run a clean salon, Michael.”

Mike accepted the broom without question. “Yes, sir.”

Him preened. “Good lad.”

“Does… Does this mean I got the job?”

Him flipped his claw. “There will be a trial period. You young people are so used to texting that I’ll have to determine if you’re fit to answer a phone. But, considering your manners, I have a good feeling about you.”

Amazing! “Thank you so much! When do I start?”

“Honey, you’re already late. I have customers waiting.” Him snapped his claw. “Chop chop.”

Mike swept up his shorn hair and the hair around the chair next to his, dumped it all in a bin labeled “Hair,” and ran to the front desk to answer the phone ringing off the hook. The stylist who’d greeted him, Marisol, helped him with the computer login so he could manage appointments and checkout. It was easy enough, a Square card reader and a cash register and a huge logbook of every sale. 

“Middle finger up, F-U, pay me,” Mike whisper-rapped along with Lisa. 

A couple hours later, Him handed him a check for the time worked and told him to be back here tomorrow at 3 p.m. Mike accepted the check, but he didn’t pocket it. 

“Sir, I should tell you for the sake of full disclosure.”

Him peered down at him with his claws on his hips. “Oh?”

This should not be so hard.

“I’m, well, I’m involved. With your son. Boomer.”

Him clicked his claw, and Mike held his breath. 

Boomer had spoken about Him—Baron of Brutality, King of Chaos, Emperor of Enmity et cetera—on just a few occasions throughout their acquaintance. Raising souls from the dead was a hobby of Him’s, apparently, but often his necromantic offspring ended up rotting and were no fit candidates to promenade in civilized society that wasn’t eternally damned and burning. Chemical X cut out that inconvenience, and thus the perfect little boys were reborn, or something. According to Boomer, Him was evil on Sundays, a prolific genius on Tuesdays, and crocheting with his kobolds on Fridays. The rest of the time he was just a normal demon trying to survive in this capitalist post-modern society like everybody else. Anyway, Sunday wasn’t in Mike’s work schedule, so that seemed safe enough.

“I know,” Him said. “You don’t expect me to believe you’d Googled the most flattering hairstyle for your bone structure without help, do you?”

Mike was pretty sure there was a compliment in there, even if it wasn’t for him. “I guess not.”

Him beamed. “Don’t worry. I would never let my favorite son’s romantic life influence the culture at Beelzebob. You’ll be judged before an impartial tribunal of incubi, like everybody else. Now, before you go, I’d like you to dispose of the waste, please.”

Mike learned the value of separating trash that day. Discarded receipts and candy wrappers dumped in the waste bin went into the trash, lunch leftovers went to compost, and cut hair went to sacrificial offerings. 

“Sacrifices reduce our carbon footprint and offer protection against flat Earthers. It’s a proven science, you know.”

Mike supposed it would be poor manners to argue with an ancient evil on his crochet day.

xxx

Boomer was all sly smiles and discreet hand touches when Mike treated him to dinner at their favorite Thai place later that week. 

“So, your job seems to be paying well,” he said. 

“Well enough to take my boyfriend out to a nice dinner now and then.”

“Careful. Spend too much time with Him and your tastes will get really expensive.”

Mike laughed. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll switch majors to cosmetology and join the family business.”

“You know what? He’d probably love that. He tried so hard to get Brick to follow in his footsteps, but Mojo let him mess around on his E-Shares account once when we were eleven and Brick was lost to the finance track forever. I’m pretty sure Mojo did it on purpose.” Boomer leaned in and clinked his wine glass to Mike’s. “Anyway, buy me this dinner before you jump to joining the family business.”

Mike flushed. “I’m—I didn’t—”

Boomer laughed. “Chill! I’m just messing with you.”

The playlist at the restaurant began playing Blackpink’s Kill This Love, and Mike burst out laughing. 

“What?” Boomer asked. “You like this song? You know, Him is really big into K-pop lately. Butch thinks someone must have sold a bunch of souls and made a killing.”

“I know.” Mike kissed Boomer’s hand. “It’s just funny how things work out.”

Boomer smiled. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Their food arrived, and Mike happily ate his meal across from Boomer. And in the back of his mind, he said a little thank-you to Him and whatever chaotic forces he controlled for reviving Boomer all those years ago. 

It must have been a balmy Tuesday in Hell.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #boomike #ppg boomer #mike believe #ppg him

[nordleuchten]

what was the whole involvement of lafayette during the battle of monmouth

thank you :)

Hello Anon,

thank you for your question. La Fayette’s involment in the Battle of Monmouth is quite an interesting one. It actually started before the Battle of Monmouth. On May 20, 1778 our dear Marquis was engaged in the Battle of Barren Hill. I will keep the account brief because the Battle of Barren Hill is not what you wanted to know - but it sets the stage for Monmouth.

La Fayette was given the command over 2.200 troops. They left the American encampment at Valley Forge on May 18, 1778. Washington gave La Fayette very clear instructions regarding his mission. He wrote the day La Fayette departed:

The detachment under your command with which you will immediately march towards the enemy’s lines is designed to answer the following purposes—to be a security to this camp and a cover to the country between the Delaware and Schuylkil—to interrupt the communication with Philadelphia—obstruct the incursions of the enemies parties, and obtain intelligence of their motions and designs. This last is a matter of very interesting moment, and ought to claim your particular attention. You will endeavour to procure trusty and intelligent spies, who will advise you faithfully of whatever may be passing in the city; and you will without delay communicate to me every piece of material information you obtain. (…) You will remember that your detachment is a very valuable one, and that any accident happening to it would be a severe blow to this army. You will therefore use every possible precaution for its security, and to guard against a surprise. No attempt should be made nor any thing risked without the greatest prospect of success, and with every reasonable advantage on your side. I shall not point out any precise position to you; but shall leave it to your discretion to take such posts occasionally as shall appear to you best adapted to the purposes of your detachment. In general I would observe that a stationary post is unadviseable, as it gives the enemy an opportunity of knowing your situation and concerting successfully against you.

Although Washington wrote La Fayette that “a stationary post is unadviseable”, La Fayette took up camp on Barren Hill (today Lafayette Hill). The British troops managed to encircle the American troops and trapped them against the Schuylkill River. La Fayette however knew of some roads that would allow him to bypass the British forces while simultaneously distracting them. The whole mission bordered on a disaster, although the American troops were able to fulfil some of their goals and suffered only three casualties.

After Barren Hill, the Americans undertook numerous efforts to slow the British troops under General Clinton down, to harass them and to interrupt their supply lines. Washington held several councils to discuss a long-term strategy. La Fayette attended these councils as well - just like Major-General Charles Lee did. Lee would be a major player during the Battle of Monmouth.

The Council of War from June 24, 1778 resulted in a plea for caution by most of the officers. Many of the attending officers thought that a victory in battle would be most unlikely and that a defeat would be devastating for the army. Washington did not agree but could only argue for a compromise. 1.500 troops would be send under the command of General Scott to reinforce the vanguard and to support the Generals Maxwell and Dickinson in their effort of slowing Clinton down. While many of the officers in attendance were in favour of this strategy, many were not. Most outspoken amongst them were the Generals La Fayette, Wayne and Greene. La Fayette had signed the compromise (due to peer-pressure as he later claimed) but Wayne (and Greene as well for all that I know) had outright refused to do so. They all communicated with Washington that, although a major battle should still be avoided, a larger body of supporting troops should be send to interfere with the British. They wanted to dispatch between 2.500 and 3.000 troops directly and keep the rest of the army within a short distance to strike if necessary. La Fayette wrote in his Memoirs:

“In a council held on this subject, Lee very eloquently endeavoured to prove that it was necessary to erect a bridge of gold for the enemy; that while on the very point of forming an alliance with them , every thing ought not to be placed at hazard; that the English army had never been so excellent and so well disciplined; he declared himself to be for White Plains: his speech influenced the opinion of Lord Stirling and of the brigadiers - general. M. de Lafayette, placed on the other side, spoke late, and asserted that it would be disgraceful for the chiefs, and humiliating for the troops, to allow the enemy to traverse the Jerseys tranquilly; that, without running any improper risk, the rear guard might be attacked; that it was necessary to follow the English, manœuvre with prudence, take advantage of a temporary separation, and, in short, seize the most favourable opportunities and situations. This advice was approved by many of the council, and above all by M. du Portail, chief of the engineers, and a very distinguished officer. The majority were, however, in favour of Lee; but M. de Lafayette spoke again to the general on this subject in the evening, and was seconded by Hamilton, and by Greene, who had been lately named quarter - master in place of Mifflin. Several of the general officers changed their opinion (...).”

Washington, who was keen on taking a more offensive stance, send additional 1.000 troops on June 25, 1778. La Fayette wrote in his Memoirs:

“(...) and the troops having already begun their march, they were halted, in order to form a detachment. When united, there were 3,000 continentalists and 1,200 militia; the command fell to the share of Lee, but , by the express desire of the general, M. de Lafayette succeeded in obtaining it. Everything was going on extremely well, when Lee changed his mind, and chose to command the troops himself; having again yielded this point, he rechanged once more, and as the general wished him to adhere to his first decision (...).”

We see from this excerpt that Lee could not really make up his mind concerning the command. What happened? Washington offered Lee, his second in command after all, the command over the vanguard. Lee refused, basically saying that such a command was beneath him. Washington next offered La Fayette the command - the Marquis happily agreed. La Fayette moved his troops fast - too fast. Although he managed to come within three miles of the British troops, he moved too fast, outrun his supplies and his men were exhausted and vulnerable. Washington wrote La Fayette on June 26, 1778 that:

“In order that the Troops may be supplied, I wish you would always send up, an Active Officer in time to the Commissary, who might never leave him till he obtained the necessary supplies. This will be attended with more certain relief than by writing by common expresses. Though giving the Enemy a stroke is a very desireable event, yet I would not wish you to be too precipitate in the measure or to distress your men by an over hasty march. The Weather is extremely warm and by a too great exertion in pushing the Troops many of em will fall sick and be rendered entirely unfit for service. I (...) I must repeat again my wish that you do not push on with too much rapidity. You may be, in case of Action, at too great a distance to receive succour and exposed from thence to great Hazard. The Troops here are suffering for want of provision, as well as those with you, and are under the necessity of halting, till they are refreshed. (...) Your provision is on the Road.”

La Fayette moved to Englishtown where he was supposed to meet up with Lee and his troops. Lee in the meantime had come to the realisation that La Fayette’s command actually was not that bad and he now wanted to be in command. He requested Washington to put him in command and Washington agreed. At Englishtown Lee’s vanguard now consisted of round about 4.500 troops.

La Fayette described it as follows in his Memoirs:

“(...) M. de Lafayette was delayed by want of provisions; and it was not until the 26th, at a quarter to twelve at night, that he could ask for Lee, who was sent with a detachment of one thou sand men to Englishtown, on the left side of the enemy. The first corps had advanced upon their right; and M. de Lafayette, by Lee's especial order, joined him at midday, within reach of the enemy, from whom he fortunately succeeded in concealing this movement.”

Washington was with the main army close behind them. Lees behaviour in the coming days was not what it could be. He held his own Councils of War where Washington was not in attendance and gave order were he probably was not in a position to give orders.

The Battle of Monmouth was fought on June 28, 1778. Compared with his, in my opinion really exciting part, in the days and weeks leading up to the battle, La Fayette’s role in the battle itself was relatively unassuming. He followed Lee into battle while commanding a portion of the vanguard. Lee, who had halted is advance prior, continue to advance as soon as La Fayette arrived. The Marquis helped to secure the right flank of the American troops. Later on in the battle, his troops started to retreat after being unable to put down a British artillery unite. The retreat of his troops was probably one of the reasons why Lee later decided to retreat with the entirety of his venguard.

Washington arrived some time after and was not at all amused by Lee’s conducts. Not at all. In fact, Lee’s behaviour was one of the few times that made Washington loose his temper in public. He took over command from Lee and organized the Battle anew. Washington is still today praised for his excellent behaviour that day. La Fayette wrote in his memoirs how impressed he was by Washington and some of the other officers.

“During this affair, which ended so well, although begun so ill, General Washington appeared to arrest fortune by one glance, and his presence of mind, valour, and decision of character, were never displayed to greater advantage than at that moment .* Wayne distinguished himself; Greene and the brave Stirling led forward the first line in the ablest manner.”

The Marquis ends his account of the Battle of Monmouth with this sweet little remark about how he and Washington spend the night.

“The general and he passed the night lying on the same mantle, talking over the conduct of Lee (...).”

Washington and La Fayette both fell asleep on Washington’s coat under a tree, both being exhausted by the events of the day. Allegedly General Greene found them asleep together but could not bring it over him to wake them - the scene was just too touching.

I hope that answers your question thus far. I hope you have/had a wonderful day!

#ask me anything #anon #marquis de lafayette #lafayette #general lafayette #historical lafayette #george washington #1778 #alexander hamilton #anthony wayne #general scott #charles lee #general lee #lafayette hill #barren hill #battle of barren hill #battle of monmouth #american history #american revolution #nathaniel greene #alexander stirling #napping #letters

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google's monopoly rigged the ad market

The quest to bring antitrust law to bear against tech companies is finally paying off, but it's been a long, hard slog. At the vanguard have been two legal scholars: Columbia law's Lina M Khan linamkhan and Yale's Dina Srinivasan.

The first watershed moment was Khan's Jan 2017 Yale Law Review paper "Amazon’s Antitrust Paradox," which laid the groundwork for understanding the inadequacies of Ronald-Reagan-style antitrust for tackling platform capitalism.

https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox

In Sep 2018, Srinivasan went one better with her Berkeley Business Law Review paper "The Antitrust Case Against Facebook," which made a compelling case that even under the narrow antitrust Reagan created, Facebook was still an illegal monopolist.

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362

I've just read Srinivasan's followup, a preprint of a forthcoming Stanford Law Review paper called "Why Google Dominates Advertising Markets."

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3500919

It was first made available last Jun, before the DoJ announced its antitrust case against Google, and if the DoJ didn't rely on it to frame its case, there's a hell of a coincidence at play (even Google's countermoves since could be ripped from its pages).

Srinivasan's paper’s a very deep, technological dive into the way that Google has structured the ad-auction market that it dominates. This automated marketplace was based on the computerized stock exchanges that supplanted trading floors, but its volume outstrips all of these.

And yet for all that scale, Google's marketplace has none of the safeguards that financial markets employ to prevent the market owner from cheating buyers and sellers.

Indeed, even when compared to other online marketplaces, Google is especially bad, continuing practices that other serial offenders like Amazon abandoned as too nakedly anticompetitive.

Marketplaces like the realtime ad-placement system are complex, involving publishers, advertisers, sell-side brokers, buy-side brokers, and the markets where they come together. Google manages to insert itself into nearly every element of the system.

When you see an ad on a website, it is often the case that Google brokered both the advertiser's bid and the publisher's acceptance, in a marketplace that Google controls, and (through AMP), Google may even host the page with the ad on it.

Srinivasan documents how Google has muscled out competing brokerages, exchanges and hosting systems by citing benefits to internet users: privacy measures had the (surely not incidental) side-effect of making it impossible for rivals to target as well as Google does.

Measures aimed at improving load times (AMP again) forced publishers to choose between giving up 50% of their ad revenue or giving up on being visible in Google search results.

And all of this has the (again, not coincidental) side-effect of giving Google access to proprietary business information that lets it compete with, squeeze, and sideline publishers.

All of this points to the foolishness of "link taxes" - proposals in the EU, Australia and Canada to make Google pay for the right to link to news sites (and to find a way to force Google to go on linking to those sites rather than not paying the tax).

Srinivasan makes a really compelling case that Google's multiple conflicts-of-interest - sell-broker, buy-broker, exchange operator, host and search tool - has shifted huge amounts of money from publishers to the company.

But she also demonstrates that when there IS competition (for example, when publishers were briefly able to solicit ad bids on multiple simultaneous exchanges), publishers can double their revenues (and advertisers can lower their ad costs).

All this suggests that the answer to Google isn't to force it to provide charitable payments to the press that is supposed to be reporting on it and holding it to account - but rather to force Google to halt their anticompetitive conduct.

If we did that, Google couldn't afford to float the news media - but that would be because the news media had shifted a giant share of ad revenue from Google to itself. Publishers wouldn't need Google's charity - they'd have its revenues, instead.

Recall that the reason Google (and other tech giants) have been able to dominate our digital world is that Reagan neutered antitrust law, allowing companies to form brutal, all-encompassing monopolies without fear of state action.

The DoJ's antitrust action against Google suggests that we may be able to restore the more muscular, trustbusting version of competition law, but Srinivasan's not waiting for that to happen.

Instead, she closes her paper by reminding us that Google's ad-market was explicitly based on stock markets, and that these markets have a well-developed set of regulations to prevent the self-dealing that accounts for most of Google's profits.

While we're waiting for antitrust to reinvent itself, Srinivasan suggests that we subject the ad market to financial laws. Doing so wouldn't just address Google's abuses: whole swathes of our economy are disappearing into these algorithmic marketplaces (like Ticketmaster's).

Srinivasan suggests that all of these markets should be regulated to prevent the exchange operator from cheating the buyers and sellers.

It's a very interesting idea - and the paper is beautifully written and argued.

I have two reservations, though:

I. The financialization of other sectors of the economy is Not Good. Rather than reforming Ticketmaster's abusive marketplace (or Google's), why not prohibit it? I don't want "fair" financialization, I want NO financialization.

II. Google's moves - third-party cookie blocking, bans on merging user identifiers, downranking sites with lengthy "surveillance lags" generated by complex ad bids - really ARE good for users. I'd love to find proposals to fix this stuff WITHOUT creating monopolies.

#pluralistic

[luca-moreno]

So nonna Nico wanted a family dinner before Ethan leaves the Berlin 

aka ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

--

Luca doesn’t really know why he gets pulled in along with Marie for the odd little family dinner Zeus insisted on. Marie mutters something about an insurance policy when he asks and it doesn’t make a lot of sense to him but it means another one of Zeus’s home cooked meals and he won’t say no to that.  

Plus, Ben will be there.

There’s tension in the room and around the table where they all sit. Tension and long silences while they wait for Zeus to dish out the food. There’s a semi circle of phoenix and the commander reigns at the head of the table like a sharp eyed Queen watching over her army.

Luca happily finds himself sandwiched between Ben on one side and Ajax, glowering and clearly unhappy with life on the other. Then there’s Mason and the final phoenix, Luca can’t remember the name of but vaguely recalls from the Commander’s party in the club. Pike maybe? Lance? Some kind of ancient earth weapon he might have read about in a history book somewhere.

He nudges Ben under the table, willing his face not to get all pink when his knee brushes against him.

(Which one is he again?) Luca signs, trying to be subtle and knowing he’s failed when the man in question’s gaze falls to him.

“Ethan,” Ben says easily. “Sabre. Big brother,” he adds proudly.

Luca’s gaze shifts between them then he kinda squints. He vaguely remembers that from their scamper in the hall trying to spy. “Wait. You don’t look alike.”

“Adopted,” Ethan cuts in smoothly, making Luca jump. He detects something in the phoenix’s tone. Humor maybe? Not hostility, which was a nice change for once. He decides then that he likes Sabre with his pretty hair and a jawline that could cut glass – and whew! He really has no business being that attractive but then phoenix, so Luca figures he’ll allow it.

Plus he’s really good at making Ben laugh.

“Huh,” he shrugs. “Okay.”

Silence falls over the table again. Luca twitches, drums his fingers on the edge of the table lightly until Mason narrows his eyes at him and he quickly snatches them back. He’s hungry and bored and jittery with too many freakishly still apex predators in the room when he feels like squishy prey and he sinks back in his chair and huffs with enough force to blow his curls off his face.

He scoops up his spoon and tries to balance it on his nose and wonders again why he’s there.

“Why me?” He had asked Marie on the walk to the little room she had secured for them. She paused on the other side of the sealed door and gave him an amused glance.

“Because with you there, they’re less likely to tear each other apart and for some obscure reason I can’t even begin to understand, it’s really important to Nic.”

“I thought you said they were family. Why would they tear each other apart?”

Marie’s face falls and she looks sort of sad. “Brothers by circumstances, not choice.”

Luca shrugged. “Aren’t all families like that?”

“Not all. Besides,” Marie continues with a small hum. “I think you’re probably the only other person on this boat who isn’t scared of them.”

It’s not true, not by a long shot but it had made Luca laugh anyway. “Yeah, because they know they have to go through to you get to me. And you’re scarier than all of them.”

Marie cuffed him lightly on the shoulder as she laughs – definitely not a very commandery thing to do – which is just reason nine million and twenty six thousand why Luca adored her so much. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, Ensign.”

“One of the highest order, ma’am,” Luca tells her seriously, adjusting the strap on his guitar just as the door opens.

Another quiet moment ticks by. Luca is almost cross eyed by the time his spoon drops into his lap. “Do you ever think about how spoons are just tiny bowls with sticks attached to them?”

There’s silence and it stretches. Luca glances around the table and finds a multitude of pinched faces. Ajax looks mad, Ben looks delighted, the Commander looks like she’s praying to the gods for deliverance as she breathes deeply through her nose, Sabre’s expression are calculating but surprisingly, it’s Mason that loses it first.

He turns his face into Sabre’s side, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Sabre’s lips twitch once then twice before he joins in. Then Ben, then Marie, and then Zeus even rumbles something. Ajax is the only one who doesn’t laugh, glaring around the table like he wants to murder them all as slowly and as painfully as possible. Luca shuffles ever so slightly closer to Ben. Marie was wrong, he thinks. He was a little scared of Ajax. Just a tiny bit, but he’s pretty sure Ben could take him if it came to that.

“Va bene,” Zeus booms. “Time to eat. Mangia!”

It’s easier when the food is in front of them. Luca helps Ben scoop out something red and cheesy, adding an extra dollop to his plate with a grin. “I know what you guys are like,” he whispers then does the same to Ajax just to stay on his good side.

The food seems to make them all relax, but only just.

“This is so fucking weird,” Ajax mutters around a mouthful of pasta.

Luca looks at the twirly shapes on his plate, drenched in quite possibly the tastiest sauce he’s ever come across. Even Mar’vera, the Asari that manned the roadside kiosk near his father’s place on the wards didn’t have stuff that tasted as good as this.

“Isn’t this pasta stuff a big thing back on Earth?”

“Not the food, idiot,” Ajax says it without any heat. He shovels in another mouthful as he gestures around the table.

Luca looks around curiously at the phoenix assembled there. “Oh. Why? Didn’t you do this all the time back in… phoenix land?”

“That’s not actually a thing, Luca,” Mason says with a snort. “Neither is phoenix school.”

“He means Phoenix One,” Marie cuts in, shooting Mason a look.

“Yeah,” Luca nods and waves his fork. A glob of sauce goes flying, narrowly missing Sabre. Luca’s pretty sure he would have to sleep with one eye open if that glob had ended up on a his very expensive looking outfit and he gulps nervously. “That.” He chews. “Wait, what’s Phoenix One?”

There’s an uncomfortable glance around the table when suddenly they all find their plates very interesting. Luca looks at Marie but she offers a small little shrug and keeps eating.

“Um…”

“It’s… complicated, Luc,” Mason says, not meeting his eye.

“Is it?” Luca wants to turn to Ben but he’s not oblivious to the way the vanguard beside him hunches over so he shrugs and stabs his pasta and chews enthusiastically instead. These phoenix guys were weird.

There’s a little stilted conversation around the table that Luca and Marie try to carry, but it’s still awkward. Mason and Sabre share too many sidelong looks and small smiles and Luca almost wonders if everyone should clear out and give them the room. He tries not to stare and leans in towards Ben, whispering out the corner of his mouth.

“I guess the divorce is off?”

Ben blinks in confusion before Luca jerks his head then realization dawns. Ben nods his head happily. He leans in close and Luca has to concentrate hard on what he says instead of getting distracted by how warm he is and how he smells far too earthy for being surrounded by the vacuum of space. “Archer,” he whispers. “Other brother. Talked sense and cooked brain food.”

Luca has no idea what that means but he’s utterly enthralled regardless. “Oh,” he says, like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever heard but only because it is because Ben and he really likes the way Ben’s eyes kind of crinkle at the corners when he smiles and the way his canines seem a little sharper than the average human and the way his skin-

There’s a nudge against his boot that snaps him out of it and he looks up to see Sabre eying him with amusement.

“You were drooling,” he says, then flicks a napkin at Luca’s direction courtesy of a blue haze.

“What?” Luca squeaks as the napkin smacks him fair in the face.

“Are we going to have to give this kid the shovel talk?” Sabre asks no one in particular. Luca doesn’t know what a talking shovel is but it can’t be good and he shoots a panicked look in Marie’s direction.

“No,” she says firmly, fingers white around the stem of her wine glass. “We do not.”

“No shovel,” Ben says sternly, glaring at Sabre and Luca shoots him a grateful look.

“Um, thank… thank you?”

Ben knocks his shoulder and goes back to eating. Like almost everyone else at the table, he’s well onto his second serve.

“Marie, what’s this kid’s qualifications. Is he up to the job?”

“I’m going to be polite and pretend you didn’t just ask me that, Sinclair.”

“He’s one of Marie’s,” Mason reminds him. “So we know he’s solid.”

“Uh, hello? I’m right here,” Luca snaps irritably. What the hell? He’s about to open his mouth to complain some more but Ben leans over and he’s immediately distracted by the heat radiating off him.

“You get used to it. They do this a lot.”

Sabre looks momentarily offended by that. “Ben.”

Ben shrugs and licks the sauce off his fingers. “It’s true. Because youngest.”

“Because we’re supposed to look out for you.”

Mason chuckles and reaches for his glass. “Remember that time we took Ben to that strip club for his birthday?”

“That was definitely one of our more brilliant idea,” Sabre says mildly. Mason gives him an incredulous look.

“Okay, you and I remember that night very differently, Eth.”

Sabre’s slow smile has a distinctly predatory edge to it. “Do we?”

“Wait, you took him to a strip club?” Marie blinks and Mason bristles slightly.

“It was his birthday.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs behind her hand, like she knows something the rest of them don’t. Mason grins then.

“Oh, you’ve heard this one before, huh?”

“No, but I can only imagine with you involved.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Marie waves her hand. “Continue.”

“I’m not sure I should now,” Mason mutters and Luca isn’t sure if he should be alarmed or not that the supposed leader of the fiercest human biotics in the galaxy pouts. Actually pouts, with the bottom lip and everything.

“Mason let him get drunk and then he ended up on stage with the dancers,” Zeus suddenly rumbles, cutting in to the conversation. Marie lets out a peel of laughter and Mason curses. “It was a riot. Had to pay for damages before they would let us leave.”

Ben looks confused. “Did I break something?”

“Only a lot of hearts, Benji,” Ethan chuckles indulgently and Mason snickers.

Luca tries very hard not to picture what the phoenix beside him would look like on a stage in colorful strobing lights and very little clothing in case his brain short circuits.

It does anyway.

“Uh,” he manages faintly. His voice suddenly feels like it’s coming from very far away.

“He ate the foliage on P1 too, once.”

Mason exhales heavily. “Phew, yeah. Now that was a rough night.”

That seems to snap Luca’s attention back and he eyes Ben and wonders if he needs to reconsider his crush. “You’re not gonna try to eat Meli, are you?”

There’s a little chirp in the corner from the drone when it hears its name. Ben cackles. “No, too spiky.”

“So was this your plan?” Sabre looks up from his glass as he addresses Zeus. “Get us all together to reminisce about old times?” His tone is faintly mocking but Zeus doesn’t react other than to pause his eating.

Ajax lets out a bark of brittle laughter. “Just hope that Huntsman doesn’t try to make another one of his fucking speeches.”

“Get fucked, Ajax,” Mason tells him cheerfully.

“We’re all hoping for that, Huntsman.”

Mason opens his mouth only for Marie to wave her knife threateningly in his direction. “Don’t fucking say it, Mase.”

Mason throws his hands up. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says but Luca hardly knows Mason from a bar of soap and even he recognizes that’s a lie.

“You’ll have to tell me the story behind that one later,” Luca hears Sabre whisper before pulling Mason in for a kiss.

“And there goes my fucking appetite,“ Ajax mutters, shooting daggers across the table.

Mason looks like he’s about to snap something else but Sabre’s hand lands on his knee. There’s a lowly uttered, babe and then just like that, Mason’s bristle fades. Luca was starting to understand why Marie had been concerned. Insurance policy, she had said but he’s not so sure a nobody like him would be able to do much if this lot decided to go to war.

RIP the SSV Berlin, Luca thinks. The captain will be pissed.

“This is the first time we’ve ever done this,” Zeus rumbles suddenly. His voice isn’t overly loud but it seems to carry across the room and make them all sink into their seats. Zeus scans his golden eyes around the table, skimming over each face until he stops and settles on Ben. “All of us.”

Ajax scoffs into the silence. “Fucking sentimental bullsh-“

“Maddy,” Marie hisses and Luca realizes with a start she looks like she’s on the verge of tearing up. Evidently Ajax realizes it too because he curses under his breath and sits back, arms folded tight across his chest and blue eyes simmering with ire he’s only just keeping in check.

Mason pushes aside his plate and gives up all semblance of good humor. He leans against Sabre. “The last time, at this rate.”

“So dramatic, Huntsman,” Ajax can’t resist a final dig.

Mason makes a visible effort to swallow his retort. Luca wonders curiously what would have happened if Sabre hadn’t been there. He shivers with the crackle of energy in the air, the latent biotics making his teeth ache again. It was going to fuck with his aids, he’s sure of it.

“We’re the only ones left,” Zeus continues. “Like it or not. There’s only us.”

“We’re not some fucking brady bunch, Zeus,” Ajax snaps. “Fuck this. I’ll go, then it really will be like old times-“

“No!” Ben jumps up, grips Ajax’s arm tight. “No, stay.”

“Aw, fuck, Scoots. This isn’t… It’s not you, okay.”

“Stay,” Ben sits Ajax down roughly and Luca has enough sense to shove the last of the pasta in his direction. He almost smiles as he takes it. At least Luca likes to think it’s a smile. It’s barely even a grimace, just a tight stretch of his lips over sharp teeth but there’s a collective easing of tension around the table.

“Hey,” Luca says brightly into the silence. “Wanna hear a song?”

#I don’t know but it is but this is what happens when I’m left unattended in another time zone apparently #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #scooter roosevelt #marie miller #ethan sinclair #maddox gibbons #mason knight #luca moreno #ssv berlin #you know luca went ahead and played heathens too #smh

[pnwdoodlesreads]

Seattle's largest Hooverville occupied nine acres that are now used to unload container ships west of Qwest Field and the Alaska Viaduct. (Courtesy King County Archives).The failure of Depression-era policies to alleviate unemployment and address the social crisis led to the creation of Hoovervilles, shantytowns that sprang up to house those who had become homeless because of the Great Depression.

The towns were named “Hoovervilles,” because of President Herbert Hoover’s ineffective relief policies. Mass unemployment was rampant among men aged 18–50, and the lack of a social safety net continued to push them down the ladder. By looking at the Vanguard’s news coverage from 1930–1932 and the history of Hooverville written by its self-proclaimed mayor Jesse Jackson, we can see that the creation of Seattle’s Hooverville was due to an ineffective social system and the inability of local politicians to address the Depression’s social crisis.

 Even though these men wanted to care for themselves, the social structure forced them toward charity, a dependent position many unemployed men in Seattle rejected. As a reporter for The Vanguard, the newspaper of Seattle’s unemployed, wrote of one Hooverville resident, “He had a distaste for organized charity-breadlines and flop-houses so he decided to build a shack of his own and be independent.[1]  

This rejection of organized charity was due as much to a desire for independence as to the low quality of the shelter and food on offer. While there was shelter for sleeping, it was often on the ground in damp and unhygienic surroundings, and while charities such as the Salvation Army offered soup kitchens, the food was often barely digestible and contained little to no nutritional value. The creation of a Hooverville in Seattle, then, was due to the lack of social safety net, the desire for self-sufficiency, and the poor quality of Depression-era charity.

 Jesse Jackson, the self-declared mayor of Hooverville, was one of the men who had a strong distaste for organized charity. After finding men that shared this feeling, they decided to do something about it. In recalling the foundation of their Hooverville, Jackson explained,“We immediately took possession of the nine-acre tract of vacant property of the Seattle Port Commission and proceeded to settle down.[2]   Jackson and his friends rounded up whatever they could find and began to create shelters. Seattle city officials were not thrilled about this new development.

In an original attempt to disband these shantytowns and unemployed “jungles”, city officials burned down the entire community, giving the men only seven days’ eviction notice. As The Vanguard argued, this only made the social crisis worse: “If the County Health officer orders the Jungles burned out this year, as he did last year, a large number of men will be thrown upon organized charity, for no very good reason.[3]   Hooverville residents, for their part, were not thwarted by the city’s attempt to disband them. They simply dug deeper embankments for their homes and reestablished the community. Noted The Vanguard, “Meanwhile, new shacks go up everyday, and more and more buildings uptown are empty.[4]    

 In June of 1932 a new administration was elected in Seattle. They decided that the Hooverville would be tolerated until conditions improved. However, they did demand that Hooverville’s men follow a set of rules and elect a commission to enforce these rules in conversation with city officials. Among the city’s new rules was one outlawing women and children from living there, a rule almost always abided by. This agreement between Seattle and its Hooverville improved relations between the two greatly. Businesses that were originally hesitant become friendlier, donating any extra food or building supplies to Hooverville’s residents.

 The Vanguard    drew vivid pictures of the atmosphere of Seattle’s shantytown: “Little groups of men huddled around forlorn fires, ‘boiling-up’ clothes begrimed by their peculiar mode of travel, or cooking food-the worst kind of food… out of smoke-blackened cans these men eat and drink.[5]   While the surroundings were not optimal, Hooverville mayor Jesse Jackson;s more personal portrayal of Hooverville pointed out the resilient nature of residents: “…for the most part they are chin up individuals, travelling through life for the minute steerage.[6]   Either way, Hooverville was growing: very quickly after its original settlement, Jackson noted that Hooverville “…grew to a shanty city of six hundred shacks and one thousand inhabitants.[7]    

 Jackson referred to Hooverville as “…the abode of the forgotten man[8]   His characterization was correct in regards to the men who lived in other jungles or shanty communities around Washington, but not accurate of Seattle’s Hooverville. One Vanguard journalist noted that “Perhaps if some of these Jungles were as conspicuous as Hooverville, the problem of unemployment would be recognized to be really serious by those sheltered dwellers on the hilltops who live in another world.[9]  

The men in the average city jungles were in fact forgotten men. Hooverville, however, was a jungle with power. Wrote sociologist Donald Francis Roy, who lived in the Hooverville as part of his research, “Within the city, and of the city, it functions as a segregated residential area of distinct physical structure, population composition, and social behavior.[10]   Residents were not only to gain community involvement but also a place in the Seattle city board of commissioners. Hooverville was becoming a city of its own.

   A different  Hooverville near 8th Ave S. in 1933 (Courtesy University of Washington Library Digital Collection)

Despite its growing influence in the city, Hooverville was by no means a secure place to live, but a temporary and improvised shantytown. With a backdrop of skyscrapers that boasted of Seattle’s economic might, Hooverville, on the edge of the waterfront, was situated in a location where it stood out completely.

One town member commented on how “The sea appears to be eternally licking its chops in anticipation of swallowing the entire community in one juicy gulp[11]  While Hooverville’s small shacks seemed to suffice for the time being, they were not sturdy homes. Some were lucky enough to contain solid walls built of wood with separate bedrooms inside, while others barely had a wall and ceiling built from flimsy boards. One journalist described Hooverville simply and accurately as “…approximately one thousand shacks, inhabited by about fifteen hundred men, who have discovered how to exist without money.[12]    

 The shantytown consisted of almost all men, aged 18–60, with little to no income. Considering that the majority of Hooverville’s population was older men in their 40s, 50s, and 60s, many historians have been shocked that there weren’t higher death rates. Some observers of the community claimed that the shanty lifestyle provided a stability that actually improved some of the men’s health.

The only variable among these men was race, which was reflected in Hooverville’s elected board of commissioners. As Jackson wrote, “The melting pot of races and nations we had here called for a commission of several races and nations. Two whites, two negroes, and two Filipinos were selected.[13]   As noted before, the Seattle city commissioners did not allow women or children to live in the community. While some floated in and out, they were rarely permanent fixtures.  

 The spirit of these men was their most notable characteristic. Jackson declared that “If President Hoover could walk through the little shanty addition to Seattle bearing his name, he would find that it is not inhabited by a bunch of ne’er do wells, but by one thousand men who are bending every effort to beat back and regain the place in our social system that once was theirs.[14]  

Jackson’s goal was to point out that these men were not lazy, but simple, average, hardworking men who had been failed by the social system. While these men created a community together, Jackson felt that a community sensibility was not the only one in the town: “I would say it is more of an individualistic life, but we do divide up a lot around here, but it is more a settlement of rugged individualist.[15]   One of the traditions of Hooverville was for residents who found a job (a rare event), to ceremoniously give their house, bed, and stove to others still out of work. While the men of the community clearly were used to living their lives independent of others, they still found a way to help those struggling around them.  

 The political structure of Hooverville was based largely around the self-declared mayor Jesse Jackson. While the city did demand that the town create a commission of representatives, Jackson was still looked upon as the voice of Hooverville. Jackson claimed that “mayor” was never a role he sought out, but rather fell into: “I am just a simple person, whose status in life is the same as theirs, trying to do the best I know how to administer in my poor way to their wants.[16]  

The only benefit he received for being the leader of this shantytown was a donated radio from a Seattle company, which he made available to the men by hosting news and entertainment listenings in his shack. While the community seemed to have a substantial political structure, individually Jackson noted that the situation was different. “My honest opinion is that the average working man doesn’t know what he wants in a political way.[17]  

The community’s naïve opinion toward politics might have been the reason why it was so easy for them to look to Jackson to lead of the community. While there were no laws established within Hooverville, there were common rules enforced. Jackson pointed out one example. “You can’t come here and do just what you want. You can’t live alone. You have to respect your neighbor, and your neighbor must respect you.[18]   He noted that troublemakers were not thrown out by the men within Hooverville but by outside authorities.  

 The men in Hooverville did far more to help themselves than any established social and political structures did during the onset of the Depression., but their collective action was often not enough. One Seattle journalist still put it most bleakly by describing the men of Hooverville’s future as “… blacker than the soot on the cans [they eat out of],” while politicians quibbled … “about the exact number of unemployed but do nothing to relieve distress.[19]    

 Lee took this photo June 10, 1937. Close to 1,000 men lived in Seattle's Hooverville. (Courtesy University of Washington Library Digital Collection).

 Many politicians looked away at other, more “important” issues, but it was still noted that there was a crisis of housing taking place. Reported The Vanguard, “According to the report of the Central Housing Committee of the U[nemployed] C[itizens’] L[eague] to the central federation the unemployed are expected to be content with shacks, rookeries hovels in brief, a pig-pen standard of housing.[20]

  Politicians, in some cases, did far more harm then good. For instance, after ordering the burning of Hooverville, Mayor Dole of Seattle proceeded to evict more people out of their homes. He suggested that they obtain temporary, low-quality housing, then move quickly into permanent housing again. Articles in the Vanguard asked, “Just where they were going to find permanent dwellings, when they had no money to pay rent in their previous homes, was not explained.[21]  

This plan was clearly flawed and poorly thought out: “…he was going to see to it that property was protected. Human rights apparently came second.[22]   Mayor Dole claimed he was just upholding the rule of law. However, in a time of economic depression, with hundreds of thousands of American’s struggling to make ends meet, what is the duty of the law? It was established the protect individuals, not persecute them when they are down and out. “All these men ask is a job, and until that job is forthcoming, to be left alone.”[23]

Lessons from Hooverville still have not been learned today. Seattle, in 2009, is currently facing a recession that may be the most serious since the Depression of the 1930s, and a community similar to Hooverville has formed. The current “Nickelsville” is a nod to Seattle Mayor Greg Nickels, just as “Hooverville” was a sarcastic nod to President Hoover’s inaction. Additionally, the mission statement on Nickelsville’s website is eerily reminiscent of the Jackson’s description of Hooverville’s founding: “

Nickelsville will keep operating due to the inescapable fact that there are people on the streets with nowhere better to go. They are taking the initiative to organize so they can provide for themselves a basic level of safety and sanitation when their government steadfastly refuses to do so for them.[24]   Sinan Demirel, executive director of the local Seattle shelter R-O-O-T-S, which has supported Nickelsville, referenced the history of tent cities in an interview, saying,  

“Like the Tent Cities that preceded it, Nickelsville is part of a long and proud tradition of homeless persons organizing themselves to provide each other safety and to educate the broader community about their plight.[25]   The leaders of Nickelsville urge its members, as well as the members of the community, to encourage government action to fight homelessness.

If members of the Seattle community do not take action, they might experience a modern-day Hooverville. Demirel noted that, “If it is successful during its next move [in June 2009] in establishing a permanent site and permanent structures, then Nickelsville will join an even prouder tradition, dating back to Seattle’s Hooverville over three quarters of a century ago.[26]   If Seattle does not learn from the example set by Hooverville in the 1930s—that the failure of the social and political system, not individuals, leads to homelessness—it is doomed to allow history to repeat itself.  

[sgrayonderii]

a knight does not die with empty hands

SSM20 prompt #30: Only One

Sasuke’s old habits are hard to break. Rated K

Their romance begins in an utterly mundane fashion, and Sakura wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She doesn’t have a story of cosmic and world-ending consequences like Naruto’s or Hinata’s. And unlike Ino and Sai, there are no evil cult leaders and daring rescues.

Her story and Sasuke’s story are those quiet nights walking back side-by side after a hospital shift. It is a soft affection that grows at the table sipping tea while talking about the weather. Just a girl and a boy and the emergence of something deeper.

---

They don’t hold hands. Not really. 

Sasuke has never been a proponent of public displays of affection and Naruto finds it to be a great insult on her behalf. 

“You two are acting the same as always,” Naruto berates Sasuke one day as they all are having dinner. “How are we all even supposed to know you two are dating?

Taking offense to the comment, Sasuke hisses back “We’re not dating. We are courting.”

“What’s the difference?! It’s the same thing!”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“And you don’t know how to romance a lady!”

The two continue to argue loudly until Sai informs them that management is unhappy with the noise level and considering kicking them out. Hero status notwithstanding

---

When they were younger, Sakura took great pride in being one of the few allowed to touch her beloved Sasuke-kun. Normally he rejects any shows of affection and comfort, especially if they involve hugs and hand holding and touching of any kind. 

Although he never did quite look happy when she wraps her arms around his middle or hooks their arms together or when she cries over him when she thinks she lost him, Sasuke doesn’t quite shake her off either. 

In fact, there are even times when Sakura thinks those stray touches have a deeper meaning. Their intertwined hands in a dark forest. The desperate embrace during his descent into madness. His arm catching her before she falls. 

Things are different now. Sakura doesn’t quite love him like she used to and Sasuke doesn’t really hate her as much as he claimed. And they are so weak for each other. 

Now when Sakura grasps his hand, threading their fingers like a promise, he smiles so softly at her. It makes Sakura fall a little more. 

---

Except there are times, more often than not, she notices that Sasuke isn’t at ease as he seems. 

He grits his teeth when they shop hand in hand at the market. Sweat drips from his brow, his breathing quickens, and his grip on her hand tightens whenever someone approaches too close. There is a slight trembling in their clasped hands whenever someone stops to talk with them on the streets.

He accepts her hand and her arms and her affection, but Sakura knows he is uncomfortable. He always has been a private man and she feels guilty for forcing him out of his comfort zone. She worries that due to his never ending penitence, he feels he has to indulge her.

So Sakura tries to reduce the amount of times they touch each other in public. She makes sure to stand at a respectable distance, hoping to ease his anxiety even just a bit.

Perhaps that’s why Naruto complains about Sasuke’s aloofness. Or why Ino wonders how he is still so cold to her. Or why Kakashi sometimes looks at them with pity. 

To the outside world, that’s what it must look like. A foolish girl in love with a heartless man. 

It hurts to not be able to express her love, but she loves him enough to compromise her desires for his comfort. 

Yet, away from prying eyes, Sasuke is more receptive. He actively seeks out her embrace. Her hands, her lips, her love. He holds her closer and closer still.

So when he asks if she would leave with him, Sakura knows it will be good for them. Things will be different. 

---

Sasuke is not much better even with the scenery change. 

When they are on the road, Sasuke is still on edge. He tenses when she reaches for him. He jumps when she extends her arm.  He clutches his sword a bit tighter when she draws near. 

Yet sometimes, when the night is so quiet it seems like they are only ones in the universe, he inches closer and closer still until they are one. 

She finds herself feeling disappointed hoping that being away, from Konoha, from expectation, from everyone, would change things. 

Sakura does not understand. And all she ever wanted was to understand him. 

---

The ambush had been a surprise but hardly a battle for their combined skill. A few thieves on the road are nothing compared to what they have already seen. The highwaymen are quickly apprehended and left with the nearest officials. 

Despite this Sasuke throws himself forward as vanguard, first to engage. Afterwards he brushes her off, never meeting her eyes or responding to her concerned inquiries. When she reaches for his only hand, he all but snatches it away, horrified. 

“You know I could have taken them.” she tells him after they make camp as he methodically wipes the blood from his sword. “I am perfectly capable of fighting, you don’t have to jump in front every time.” 

Sasuke continues cleaning his weapon, “It’s not like that.” 

“Then what? Why are you acting like this?”

Sakura is frustrated. It’s one thing to be protected, it’s another thing to not be trusted to protect herself. And the weeks and weeks of his hot and cold attitude, she finally reaches her limit. 

She sits down across from him seething and does not speak to him the rest of the day. 

----

As they settle in for the night, she senses Sasuke lying down next to her in their makeshift tent. She is facing away from him and he turns to her. Sakura is aware of the heat radiating from him like an imploding sun.

Then slowly, ever so softly, he reaches for her. 

His fingertips barely brush against the back of her shirt before he clutches the fabric between the tips of his fingers. Sakura almost believes she is imagining it if not for the slight trembling of his only hand.

For a long time they are still. The only sound permeating the tent is the night outside and the synchronization of their breathing. 

Eventually Sakura turns to face him, the only man she’s ever loved. She brushes his hand away from her shirt. Sasuke is startled by her sudden movement, but when she intertwines their fingers he relaxes. He brings their connected hands to lips as a silent token of gratitude. 

Sakura notices that the trembling still hasn’t subsided. 

This time she reaches for him. Her other hand cups his cheek and brings him close until their foreheads touch.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sasuke-kun, it’s…” but he cuts her off. 

“I trust you, I do. I just...” There is a faraway look in his eyes. “I have only one.” He squeezes their clasped hands. 

She already knows about his qualms about a prosthetic arm. He had told her once upon a time ago that he didn’t deserve it. It is both a reminder of his sins and a testament to his atonement. 

“If I couldn’t protect you because I was…” she follows his gaze to the shape of their connected palms, “Distracted.”

There is a long silence, “If something were to happen to you, I don’t think I could forgive myself.”

---

The next morning when they set off, Sakura grabs his empty sleeve. She wraps it loosely around her wrist as if they are bound together. 

This is her new oath

Sasuke is surprised but does not try to shake her off. Sakura raises her opposite hand and clenches it into a fist. 

“If something happens, I’m sure we can take them one hand behind our backs! Together” 

And the way he smiles afterwards is so gentle makes her fall for him a bit more. 

--- 

Sarada unsurprisingly starts to learn to walk much quicker than her parents  initially anticipated. 

Sakura watches with amusement as their daughter attempts to stand using Sasuke’s pant leg as purchase. Her husband is very patient and always carefully helps Sarada back up when she loses balance. He murmurs words of encouragement that Sarada doesn’t understand but nevertheless welcomes. 

Eventually, Sarada grows tired of just standing and attempts to take her first step. Unfortunately she overestimates her gross motor control and starts to topple forward. Her father catches her before she falls. 

Not deterred, Sarada tries again. This time with her using her father’s hand for balance. 

As she takes another step, Sakura takes her daughter’s other hand. Sarada takes another step. Her husband glances over at her, but she finds instead of a tense gaze it is one of contentment. 

And the Uchiha family walk together hand in hand, one small step at a time.

A/N: Oof and that’s it for me this month! SSM is always so fun so I’m glad to be able to participate again. Thank you for reading! Happy SSM20 and stay safe!

#sasusaku #ssm20 #ssm20d30 #sasusaku month #sasusaku fanfiction #Sasuke Uchiha #Sakura Haruno #sakura uchiha #sarada uchiha #sgrayonderii