#plough-staff
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🐙After Hours with Azul
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Synopsis: You spend a lot of time at the Mostro Lounge, and Azul’s starting to wonder why. You’re not some creepy stalker girlfriend, are you? You two might be “official,” but you’re at the Lounge all the time!
However, Azul reckons there’s a reason behind it that’s deeper. More serious. After taking you to his room, the pair of you snuggle up, arms, legs, and tentacles, and Azul’s hearts simply can’t take the real reason behind your frequent visits.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You preferred the Mostro Lounge after-hours. It seemed more like an actual Lounge, with nothing but the cool lights and the final tunes of the piano player on the stage. No one bothered you either. None of the waiters told you to leave. No one even offered to clear your drink and plate away. The staff cleaned their tables, hung up their aprons, and that was that.
Except for Azul.
He got up from the piano and crossed the Lounge over to your booth. Your breath hitched at his cool hand on your shoulder. You always preferred him without gloves. His hands were beautiful; long, slender fingers with a callous on his right middle one from years and years of endless writing.
‘Another evening claimed by my establishment,’ mused Azul.
At last, you moved. His words thawed you enough to stand.
Azul welcomed you into his arms. His other hand sparked against your ribcage as he rubbed circles into your back. Somehow his chilly touch melted you. You became almost gelatinous in his embrace, as if you were the octopus rather than the warm, sweet little human.
‘You’re coming here more often, angelfish,’ Azul said.
‘Naturally. The foods good and the music’s even better.’
‘I’m sure the music is not better.’
You pulled away.
Azul held onto you. ‘Sorry-’
‘You’re still doing it.’
‘It’s a bad habit.’
‘You need to stop thinking you’re not good enough.’
Your kiss on the shell of his ear silenced any protests. Azul shivered with bliss.
Everyone else had already left; there was no point in keeping up airs. Who would you be trying to impress? Azul was stronger than he looked. Although he masqueraded as a human, he still retained most of his cecaelian strength, and he lifted you out of the booth. You felt as though you were floating. You were as weightless as the exotic fish in the giant Lounge fish tank.
Azul tucked you into his chest, one arm under your legs and another under your back. You smelled his cologne; lavender and something that reminded you of the sea. The tips of his bangs tickled your forehead. Together, you slipped out of the Lounge and through the halls of Octavinelle, hiding around corners for the coast to be clear before ploughing on towards Azul’s bedroom.
A snap of the fingers and the door swung open.
A lilac bed, freshly made, beckoned you forward. Azul laid you gently down. The duvet and mattress moulded to your figure, gasping and depressing as you wriggled your shoes off. ‘I can’t believe you had the energy for that!’ you laughed. ‘After playing all night.’
Azul laid down beside you. His hands, warmed by your back and thighs, searched for yours and brought them to his lips. ‘It’s the nature of octopuses to be dextrous, my dear. Three hours of piano playing was nothing but a warmup.’
‘How modest.’
Azul reddened.
You kissed his nose. ‘Tell me more. If you can brag to anyone it would be me. Not that I need to be told about how amazing you are. You just carried me up to the top of Octavinelle as if it was nothing. I bet Jack couldn’t even do that.’
Azul, however, did not bring up anything. It still didn’t feel right to. Not with you. Not yet. He was still so new to this. He had never loved anyone before, and the pair of you had only made your relationship official a few weeks ago. Azul was trying to strike a balance between impressing you, and boasting. He wanted to seem cool, not conceited. You already accepted him for what he looked like… for some reason, but surely there was only so much you could take. You could tolerate ugliness, but vanity?
‘A good businessman never puts all his cards on the table,’ said Azul.
You rolled your eyes. ‘Business talk? Here?’
Shoot, Azul thought. Play it cool. ‘You are in the bedroom of the dorm leader of Octavinelle and the manager of the Mostro Lounge.’
‘I thought I was in my boyfriend’s bedroom.’ You started to pull away again. Azul gripped you tightly. His strong fingers were like suction cups. ‘Come on, Azul,’ you sighed. ‘If you’re a businessman, does that make me a customer? Or some associate? I know this is new to you. It’s new to me too. But just… let yourself be… well, mine. Even if it can only be in this room. I need that.’
You shifted closer to him and snaked your arm under his head. His ear rested in the crook of your elbow, letting your fingers fiddle with his hair. The fedora fell away. His locks were stringy from hours under a hat, but you didn’t mind. It was like his head was a giant snowdrop; the petals stuck together as it tried to bloom after a long winter.
Azul drew closer. The bed creaked.
‘My angelfish,’ he breathed.
You hummed.
‘Why do you stay at the Lounge for so long?’
Your stroking stopped.
Azul tensed. ‘If you don’t want to say then-’
‘No, no. It’s fine. It must seem creepy, like I’m some crazy stalker girlfriend who watches your every move now that we’re together. But it’s not. Seven, it’s not. I just… it’s just a soothing place. Some people like the library. Others like the park. But the Mostro Lounge is perfect for me. I’ve been going there all year just to unwind. You might not have noticed. You’re always so busy.’
‘No other reason?’
It was your turn to tense.
Azul detected it immediately.
Sitting up, his cerulean eyes pierced into you like icicles. He was the businessman again. All the tenderness had been leached out of him. Something was wrong. He knew it. Something he was determined to get to the bottom of. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you being at the Lounge. He loved it. Your presence always made him play better, and he was happy to smuggle you on-the-house desserts whenever he could. But you had been showing up too often, as if you were hiding, or escaping, something.
‘Let’s not have secrets from each other,’ he said.
‘Secrets?’
‘Please, angelfish.’ Azul blinked and his eyes became gentle again. The eyes of a lover; lidded and pleading. To prove that he was being open – and to give you permission to do the same – he lay down beside you again and transformed back into a cecaelia. His skin speckled with lilac until it was completely purple; his legs unravelling into eight black and purple tentacles.
Azul couldn’t meet your eyes as he transformed. It embarrassed him. He felt so grotesque. So hideous. But then, you came to him again, and wrapped your arms around his torso. The feeling faded. Azul took you into his arms.
The tentacles wound around your legs like ribbons around maypoles. Cool and slick; the suction cups kissing your exposed skin, making it prickle with gooseflesh. You stayed still to invite them higher. Azul delighted in the feel of you. You were more detailed when he held you this way. He sensed every inch of you. You were beautiful, and more tentacles came up to bind you.
Around your waist. Around your hips. Around your stomach. With ease, they pulled you in close to Azul. The cecaelia buried your face in his chest. You could hear his three heartbeats. They were fast. You couldn’t help but smile into Azul’s shirt.
‘Are you comfortable, my darling?’ Azul asked.
You nodded, too relaxed for words. Azul’s touch was velvety soft. All your dark bindings were gentle and plush, like a caterpillar wrapped in a chrysalis.
A final tentacle cupped the back of your head. You shivered as the suction cups kissed your scalp. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but it brought you out of your comfort just enough to feel like talking again. ‘What about you?’
‘I’m at my best when you’re with me,’ Azul said.
You melted a little more. ‘Same here. And I confess, that’s the reason why.’
‘Why what?’
‘I’m sorry. I know I’ve come on too strong and I’ve spooked you.’
‘No, not at all.’
‘I just…I… you know you’re my best friend.’
Azul’s heartbeats got even faster. ‘A-And you’re mine,’ he breathed. ‘The Leech twins… they’re not the same as you.’
‘The others aren’t the same as you either. Don’t get me wrong, Ace and Deuce are great, but they’re like twins, and Jack and Epel are dedicated to sports, and Sebek’s obsessed with Malleus. I sort of feel like I just touch-base with them, but I spend time with you. And even if it’s not “with” you, just to see you, hear you play, admire who my partner is, even just sit in your Lounge, is enough.’ You mustered the strength to crane your head back and kiss his jaw. ‘I’m millions of miles from home, but I somehow feel there when I’m with you.’
Azul had never heard anything like it. You were so sweet. So kind. No one ever complimented him without wanting his attention, or recognition; without wanting something in return. Octavinelle was full of sychophants, none bigger than the Leech twins, but you… you were as pure as driven snow. You loved every inch of him, inside and out; something Azul had thought was impossible for him to find. To deserve.
His tentacles bundled you up even more, pressing you in close until it was almost uncomfortable. His suction cups kissed you. Thousands of kisses. Small pecks, until the tentacle cupping the back of your head lifted you to Azul’s lips.
Velvet. Smooth. Soft.
When you broke away, you were both breathless, and exhaustion descended upon you. The night had been long; the conversation hard. Azul loosened his grip on you but kept his tentacles in place. He could think of nothing sweeter than to fall asleep to the feeling of you, and you didn’t mind. You had never been so comfortable; so warm and welcome.
With a final kiss, you snuggled into your cecaelia and drifted off to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic thump of Azul’s heartbeats.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Author note: Well hey! It’s been a while!
I hope you enjoyed the fic! I had to write an Azul one after being away for so long! He’s by far my fav character, and it was his birthday recently so I think we’re all in Azul-mode atm.
If you liked it, please like, comment, and share.
- Squidwen
#fluffle writes#reader x azul#azul ashengrotto x mc#squidwen#azul ashengrotto x reader#reader x Azul Ashengrotto#twisted wonderland x mc#twisted wonderland x reader#reader x twisted wonderland#fanfic azul#twst azul#azul ashengrotto#reader insert#octavinelle#cecaelia#octopus
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You want me so bad it makes you look stupid
This is a date, Marisol realises with sudden, dawning clarity.
Does Eddie know this is a date?
“Well, it’s about time,” Eddie tells Buck and Tommy. “Working out how to hang out with you both was getting exhausting. Hey, why don’t we pull another table over?”
Oh god, Eddie doesn’t know this is a date.
-
AKA, the one where Eddie (unknowingly) wants Buck so bad that it makes him act stupid in a restaurant.
Teaming back up with @an-optimist-prime again because we're hilarious.
It starts like this.
Christopher is at a sleepover. Eddie finally has a night off and for once, has no other plans to hang out with Buck or Tommy or anyone else for that matter, and it’s been so long since it was just the two of them.
Alone. They’ve been dating for four months now, and yet it feels like she barely knows him.
So, Marisol suggests dinner and Eddie suggests the restaurant.
“Buck recommended this place a while back,” Eddie explains when they’re in the car, and Marisol looks out her window and rolls her eyes because of course he did. “It’s just like pizza and pasta, but apparently the food’s pretty good and he’s been wanting to try it out.”
“Uh huh.” Nodding along, Marisol decides then and there not to set her expectations too high. Not that it matters, not really. She cares more about finally finding the time for a date night more than the restaurant itself. She’d be happy with burgers if it meant actually spending some quality time with her boyfriend.
So she’s pleasantly surprised when they step into the restaurant, the bells above the door jingling brightly to announce their arrival.
The lighting is soft and warm, the space mostly lit by ropes of fairy lights and flickering tea candles on the tables.
It’s pretty romantic.
The soft hum of conversation swirls around them as Marisol laces her fingers with Eddie’s and they follow one of the wait staff through the dining room and over to their table.
She stumbles, almost tripping as Eddie suddenly tugs her off to the side.
“Buck!’ He calls out, his voice so loud and excited it echoes above the general buzz, drawing the attention of the diners around them. “You two guys are here together?”
He doesn’t wait for a response, closing the gap between them.
“Marisol, you remember Buck, right?”
She almost laughs, like Eddie doesn’t mention his best friend at least once a day, but before she can mention this she catches Buck’s eye and the deer-in-the-headlights stare he’s giving them.
Huh.
“What are the chances?” Eddie grins. “I mean, Buck was just telling me about this place the other week, but I didn’t expect to actually run into you. And definitely not together.” He laughs, casually leaning against Buck’s chair, oblivious to the way his friend has gone rigid beside him. “So what, you guys are finally friends now?”
“We, uh—”
Marisol watches as Buck swallows, his eyes darting back to look at Tommy.
”Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Tommy’s mouth twitches like he’s trying not to laugh as he meets Buck’s gaze, and—
Oh.
Oh.
Cosy restaurant.
Soft mood lighting.
It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.
This is a date, Marisol realises with sudden, dawning clarity. Does Eddie know this is a date?
“Well, it’s about time,” Eddie tells them. “Working out how to hang out with you both was getting exhausting. Hey, why don’t we pull another table over?”
Oh god, Eddie doesn’t know this is a date.
“Eddie,” Marisol says, tugging on his arm. “Maybe we should go find our own table? Just the two of us.”
“What? You guys don’t mind us joining do you?” Eddie asks, and Marisol resists the urge to facepalm. It could not be more obvious that they’re interrupting something. Buck still hasn’t regained any colour in his face, that weird red birthmark by his eye standing out.
Like a stop sign.
Or a traffic light.
That Eddie just casually ploughs through. 3 dead and 47 injured.
Marisol meets Buck’s gaze, wondering if she can communicate ‘I’m so sorry’ in Morse code but all she remembers from middle school is SOS, which still feels appropriate in this situation.
There are now two tables pushed together, and any coded message is lost in the dance of shuffling seats so Buck and Tommy can sit on one side with Marisol and Eddie on the other.
Marisol genuinely does not understand how Eddie cannot see that this is a date. Both men are dressed up, sitting together at a rather fancy and romantic restaurant. She’s not just embarrassed for Buck and Tommy, but also just a little frustrated for herself. All she wants is just one night. Just one night, alone, with the man who is supposed to be her boyfriend. But, once again, that’s apparently not on the cards.
Silence sits heavy over the table as they all regard each other.
“So—” Marisol offers, to break the tension. “How did you two meet?”
“W-work.” Buck stammers.
Marisol nods for him to continue and nothing comes. After a beat, Tommy rescues them with, “we stole a helicopter together, and then flew it into a hurricane.”
”What’s this we?” Eddie cuts in, amused. “Technically you stole the helicopter. Buck and I were just along for the ride.”
Tommy shrugs, his gaze sliding over to Buck. “What can I say? I’m all about grand gestures. “ His hand slips beneath the table. “Especially when I’m trying to get someone’s attention.”
Buck goes red, spluttering into his beer.
“Jesus, Buck.” Chuckling, Eddie passes over a napkin. “What is it with you and choking at restaurants?”
“I’m not—“
”I swear, I can’t take you anywhere,” Eddie teases, handing over more napkins to mop up the mess. “You end up wearing more than you eat.”
”Fuck off,” Buck mutters, but he’s smiling now, staring down at the table.
“S0–“ Marisol cuts in over them. “Helicopters. That’s uh— that’s cute.”
“What’s cute about stealing a helicopter?” Eddie asks, genuinely confused by her comment.
“You know, it’s just— never mind,” she trails off to take a long sip of her table water.
At this point she’s just praying for the ground to open up beneath them. An earthquake or some other natural disaster to take her out of this situation. She just cannot understand how Eddie can be this oblivious.
“So, what other hang-outs have I not been invited to?” Eddie asks, his tone teasing as he leans forward in his seat.
”Just this one,” Tommy says, and there’s a record scratch in Marisol’s head.
Because this…
This is a first date.
They’re on a first date.
Is death by secondhand embarrassment a thing, because she’s pretty sure she’s dying right now.
And here’s the thing. She likes Eddie, she really does, but even she’s starting to re-think her long-term compatibility with someone who is either this clueless or this intentionally obtuse.
“But I’m hoping Evan will want to do this again sometime,” Tommy says, leaning back to sling an arm around Buck’s shoulders. “But next time, I suggest the restaurant.”
Marisol’s lost for a second, because who’s Evan, before realising that Eddie’s frozen beside her.
She turns, catching the exact moment that Eddie realises what’s happening, and what he’s done; that he’s crashed their date.
A series of emotions that she can’t quite parse wash over his face, his expression finally settling into shocked disbelief.
Finally he gets it, she thinks, exasperated. And it’s only taken 13 agonising minutes. At least they haven’t ordered yet.
Eddie’s mouth opens, then shuts, then he says, “You’re not gay.”
Real smooth Eddie, Marisol thinks, resisting the urge to hide her face in her hands.
“I’m bisexual,” Buck says, his voice almost a whisper. “I think? Maybe? I’m not actually sure yet.”
“Right.” Eddie nods, like he’s not quite sure what to do with this information. “I, uh—“ he stands suddenly, knocking into the table in his haste. “We should go. I’m sorry for— we didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Tommy starts. “We still on for Muay Thai on Thursday?”
Eddie stares at him. “I uh— “ he starts, before bolting from the restaurant.
Marisol stands. “I’m so sorry,” she says, glancing back towards the doors as Eddie disappears through them. “I’ll talk to him. I, uh— I hope you have a nice night.”
Neither of them say anything until they’re in the car.
Eddie’s gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white, but he makes no move to start the engine.
Minutes pass in dead silence.
“Are you okay, Eddie?” Marisol shifts, turning in her seat to watch him. “You know, I completely understand,” she says when he still doesn’t respond. “It must have been a bit of a shock to see your two best friends dating each other.”
“I don’t get it,” Eddie murmurs. “Why didn’t he tell me? He’s my best friend. I thought— I tell him everything and he couldn’t— I don’t even know how long this has been going on for.”
Marisol nods, but says nothing. Clearly this is something Eddie needs to get off his chest.
”Like, has this been going on the whole time? I can’t— they hated each other, or— I thought they did. But he should have told me. Buck always tells me when he’s seeing someone.”
Eddie’s hands tighten on the wheel again, the leather creaking beneath his fingers.
”And why wouldn’t he tell me he’s into guys? He’s never said anything. Not that that’s a problem—”
”Of course not,” Marisol reassures him, reaching over to lay a hand on his arm.
“—because he’s my best friend, and I’ll love him no matter what—“
Huh?
“—but because we tell each other everything! We trust each other! I mean, I thought he trusted me. Did I do something? God, I was such an idiot in there. He probably thinks I’m homophobic—“
“Yeah, a little,” Marisol admits gently, giving his arm a pat.
He drops his hands from the steering wheel, his shoulders slumping. ”God, I’m the worst friend ever. To Buck and Tommy.” He straightens suddenly, turning to face her. “But also, like, Tommy?” He asks. “I mean, I like the guy, but Tommy? Sure, he’s better than Taylor, but literally anyone is better than her.”
“Uh,” Marisol doesn’t know how to respond to that. She honestly cannot figure out why Eddie is getting so worked up about all of this. “I mean, I thought Buck and Tommy seemed good together.”
Eddie’s head jerks up.
“You don’t know Buck like I do,” he insists. “Buck is— Buck could have anyone. He’s kind and he’s thoughtful and he’s so hot, and he’s always thinking of others, you know? He is literally the perfect package. And I hate that he never thinks that he’s worth anything. But he’s worth everything.”
Marisol is speechless.
Eddie continues. “Buck could do so much better. He deserves someone who sees him, you know? Who sees the way he loves with his whole self and loves him back. He’s so easy to love.”
Suddenly, everything clicks together for Marisol in perfect clarity.
Eddie is in love with Buck.
Marisol can’t even be mad with Eddie for leading her on, because he clearly doesn’t realise it himself.
She massages her temples against the headache she can feel forming. She wonders, not unkindly, if Eddie’s previous relationships didn’t crash and burn for this exact same reason. Nobody wants to be the third wheel in any relationship, and clearly, she’ll never compare to Buck.
“Also,” Eddie barrels on. “Who the fuck does Tommy think he is, calling him Evan? Does he even know how complicated that name is for him? Only I get to do that!”
”The audacity,” Marisol mutters under her breath.
She has enough self-esteem to know she doesn’t want to deal with this. She’s not exactly excited to kick him while he’s down, but also doesn’t see the point in dragging this out. It’s not fair to either of them.
”I’m going to be honest with you, Eddie,” she says, “I think we should break up.”
Her words stop him in his tracks and he blinks, lost. “Wait, what?”
Marisol turns, reaching for her seatbelt. “Can you please just drive me home?”
***
Tommy is fairly certain he’s just witnessed Eddie have a complete meltdown.
And look, they’ve all been there. They’ve all had that moment where they’ve gotten irrationally jealous over their best friend dating someone, and not been able to —or abjectly refusing to— pinpoint exactly why it’s so upsetting.
The whole situation should be hilarious. It would be hilarious, if Evan didn’t look like he was about to cry.
“Hey,” Tommy reassures him. “It’ll be fine. I think we just surprised him a little.” Or a lot. Probably a lot.
Evan stares up at him. “You think?” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I shouldn’t have suggested this place.”
“There’s no way you could have known he was going to show up,” Tommy points out, casually draping his arm back across Evan’s broad shoulders.
“I should have guessed, knowing my luck.” Evan groans dramatically. “This is the worst first date I think I’ve ever been on.”
“Really?” Tommy asks, incredulously. “Worse than the one where you nearly died?” He smirks at the indignant expression on Evan’s face.
”Where did you even hear about that?” Evan splutters. “And yeah, worse than that.”
”Should I be insulted by that?” Tommy asks, mouth twitching in a smothered laugh.
”It’s not funny,” Evan grumbles, crossing his arms.
“It’s a little funny.”
Evan cracks, his lips lifting in a grin and they’re both laughing, and god he’s beautiful, Tommy thinks.
“Maybe I should check on him,” Evan says, after a moment, his hand reaching for his phone. “Make sure we’re okay.”
”Or,” Tommy suggests, plucking Evan’s phone from his fingers and laying it on the table, “we could get the bill and get out of here. You could come back to my place.”
Evan frowns, but doesn’t move to take his phone back.
”You’re his best friend,” Tommy reassures him. “You guys will figure this out.” And maybe they’ll eventually figure out their feelings for each other too.
Tommy’s not blind. He knows this thing between him and Evan isn’t going to go anywhere in the long run, but he’s hot and sweet and Tommy is just happy to see where this goes.
“Come on, come back to my place.”
Evan smiles. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”
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*BUSTS DOWN THE DOOR* Hello! I've reread many of your fics multiple times because I enjoy them so much! In Seat of the Stars AU, are there Taur groomers like horse groomers or are Taurs allowed to just brush their own fur? Very specific question, I know, but I enjoy knowing little random details like that
Hello! Thank you for the little random question. I love getting questions like this. So yes, generally if you have more than like three taurs, you would have a groomer/stablehand. This depends a bit on class.
Farmers who live more closely with their taurs would do the grooming and care themselves and wouldn’t hire additional people. Merchants, higher class individuals and generally those who keep a designated stable would have staff specifically for their taurs. This can include groomers, drivers (those who manage carriages), trainers, farriers and possibly a specialised doctor. Taurs are large creatures and require a lot of maintainence. Taurs also can have many different jobs which requires different trainers and tack. In the story, I know we’ve mentioned steeds, warhorses and post ponies, but there are also draft horses for hard labor, show ponies for entertainment, taurs specifically bred for sporting events, carriage drivers, pretty much everything.
Now, the second part of your question, are they allowed to groom themselves. Both yes and no. Yes, they can brush their own fur and will groom themselves and each other, but also there’s someone who will do it for them. They could groom and bathe themselves, but most choose just to let the stable hands do it because it’s easier and quicker. Plus, taurs typically do develop a nice relationship with the staff assigned to them so it’s enjoyable just to get taken care of.
I think another part of your question is how much autonomy taurs have in their own care. This is another thing that would vary wildly from stable to stable and also be influenced by their jobs.
Some stables are extremely rigid and control every aspect of their taurs’ appearances. These are the stables that dictate how a taur wears their mane, what they will get dressed in each day, what type of shoes they wear, even whether a taur will have their ears pierced or be branded.
Similarly, some jobs have physical changes to their taurs. Some of this is through selective breeding, but some changes are specifically made. I believe we’ve mentioned, there are geldings and this isn’t a rare practice. Geldings have a more mild temperament and take directions better. Pretty important when a kick from a taur could literally decapitate someone. Additionally, for some jobs it’s typical to have the tail docked. If you look at @jube-art ‘s centaur tag, you’ll see the taurs have long, almost cat-like tails (think of unicorns in medieval art). This tail acts as a rudder and for helping with momentum in tight turns, but it’s most importantly used in the body language communication of taurs. Tail movements are essential to saying many words and phrases and widely integrated into their language.
However, a long tail with even longer fur along it, has a huge potential in getting caught in carriage wheels, ploughs, and mechanical devices that taurs pull. Because of taurs that are bred to be draft horses or carriage pullers, almost always have their tails docked at birth. Jason, who was originally bred to be a draft horse and meant to pull heavy loads, has his tail docked. This means that his body language lexicon is more limited because he just can’t produce some words with a docked tail. Of course, he has verbal language to supplement and him and his family have developed some work around words.
This is probably a lot more of an answer than you thought you would get, but I do love talking about the horses lol. There’s so much lore for them already.
~Kay
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Moses and the Miraculous Staff
We already have plenty of movies inspired by Moses’ life and the Exodus from Egypt, but most of these come from Christian interpretations of the story. That makes me wonder: How would a Moses film be like if it were inspired sorely by Jewish legends and folk tales surrounding his life.
I think it would look a little like this.
@ariel-seagull-wings @thealmightyemprex @tamisdava2 @amalthea9 @princesssarisa @the-blue-fairie
It all starts with a rod, Moses’ staff. Moses’ staff is described as being a sapphire stick, engraved with the tetragrammaton and the initials of the ten plagues destined for Egypt. The rod was created by God on the sixth day of creation, Friday afternoon, and was given to Adam, and then it was handed down through Enoch, Shem, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob to Joseph.
During the period when the Hebrew were been enslaved by the Egyptians, the rod went in possession of the pharaoh’s court. But one day a Midianite man went to Egypt, stole the rod and planted on his own backyard. That man was Jethro, or Reuel, Zipporah’s father.
Back to Egypt, Pharaoh is told by his soothsayers of the coming of a liberator to the children of Israel, a man that shall destroy all Egypt. Around the same time, young Miriam started having visions and prophesized to her father, Amram, that:
“Behold a son will be born unto us from my father and mother this time, and he will save Israel from the hands of Egypt.”
When Moses was born, a peculiar and glorious light filled their entire house.
Back to Pharaoh, still fearing the prophecy, he immediately ordered for:
“Go now and seek throughout the land of Goshen where the children of Israel are, and see that every son born to the Hebrews shall be cast into the river, but every daughter you shall let live.”
I swear to you, I’m not making that up. This happens next:
“And when the children of Israel heard this thing which Pharaoh had commanded, to cast their male children into the river, some of the people separated from their wives and others adhered to them.
And from that day forward, when the time of delivery arrived to those women of Israel who had remained with their husbands, they went to the field to bring forth there, and they brought forth in the field, and left their children upon the field and returned home.
And the Lord who had sworn to their ancestors to multiply them, sent one of his ministering angels which are in heaven to wash each child in water, to anoint and swathe it and to put into its hands two smooth stones from one of which it sucked milk and from the other honey, and he caused its hair to grow to its knees, by which it might cover itself; to comfort it and to cleave to it, through his compassion for it.
And when God had compassion over them and had desired to multiply them upon the face of the land, he ordered his earth to receive them to be preserved therein till the time of their growing up, after which the earth opened its mouth and vomited them forth and they sprouted forth from the city like the herb of the earth, and the grass of the forest, and they returned each to his family and to his father's house, and they remained with them.
And the babes of the children of Israel were upon the earth like the herb of the field, through God's grace to them.
And when all the Egyptians saw this thing, they went forth, each to his field with his yoke of oxen and his ploughshare, and they ploughed it up as one ploughs the earth at seed time.
And when they ploughed they were unable to hurt the infants of the children of Israel, so the people increased and waxed exceedingly.
And Pharaoh ordered his officers daily to go to Goshen to seek for the babes of the children of Israel.
And when they had sought and found one, they took it from its mother's bosom by force, and threw it into the river, but the female child they left with its mother; thus did the Egyptians do to the Israelites all the days.”
When Moses is exactly three months-old, his mother, Jochebed, built a small ark of bulrushes and sealed with slime and pitch, sending his son in safety through the waters of the Nile, while Miriam watches by.
It happens that God sent an intense heat upon Egypt, “which burned up the flesh of man like the sun in his circuit, and it greatly oppressed the Egyptians.”
Because of the intense heatwave, Bithia or Bathia, the pharaoh’s daughter, went to bathe in the waters of the Nile with her maidens when they found baby Moses’ ark on the reeds.
Now, because God imposed that the mouth which was destined to speak with him could not take unclean milk, Moses refuse all the attempts of the princess and her maidens to breastfeed him. However, because Miriam happened to be closer, she gave the princess a brilliant idea, why not Jochebed? That Moses was nursed by a Hebrew woman, that unbeknownst to the princess, was the baby’s own mother.
This part I found hilarious because everyone gave a complete different name to the baby. It would be understandable if it were just the Hebrew and the Egyptian households that gave the boy different names based on their distinct cultures, but no. Everyone in the Hebrew household gave him a different name.
“And at the end of two years, when the child grew up, she brought him to the daughter of Pharaoh, and he was unto her as a son, and she called his name Moses, for she said, Because I drew him out of the water.
And Amram his father called his name Chabar, for he said, It was for him that he associated with his wife whom he had turned away.
And Jochebed his mother called his name Jekuthiel, Because, she said, I have hoped for him to the Almighty, and God restored him unto me.
And Miriam his sister called him Jered, for she descended after him to the river to know what his end would be.
And Aaron his brother called his name Abi Zanuch, saying, My father left my mother and returned to her on his account.
And Kehath the father of Amram called his name Abigdor, because on his account did God repair the breach of the house of Jacob, that they could no longer throw their male children into the water.
And their nurse called him Abi Socho, saying, In his tabernacle was he hidden for three months, on account of the children of Ham.
And all Israel called his name Shemaiah, son of Nethanel, for they said, In his days has God heard their cries and rescued them from their oppressors.”
Now, it has to be said that although modern works depict Moses as not knowing his Hebrew heritage while growing up in Pharaoh’s court, nothing in the sacred texts, folk tales or rabbinic interpretations mentions this fact. It’s most likely a trope used to make Moses’ story much more dramatic. Everyone knows he is a Hebrew, even his own people who, initially, deeply resent him because of that.
At three years old, sitting at the king's table in the presence of several princes and counselors, Moses took the crown from Pharaoh's head and placed it on his own. The princes were horrified at the boy's act; and the soothsayer said that this was the same boy who, in accordance with their former predictions, would destroy the kingdom of Pharaoh and liberate Israel. Balaam and Jethro were at that time also among the king's counselors. Balaam advised the king to kill the boy at once.
The angel Gabriel, who was pretending to be one of the Pharaoh’s advisers, said that the boy should first be examined, to see whether he had sensed enough to have done such an act intentionally. All agreed with this advice. A shining piece of gold, or a precious stone, together with a live coal, was placed on a plate before the boy, to see which of the two he would choose. Gabriel then guided his hand to the coal, which he took up and put into his mouth. This burned his tongue, causing him difficulty in speaking that would only be healed when he received the tablets with the Ten Commandments.
This episode is very infamous, and it’s the only one that I could find with artistic depictions.
Anyway, Moses grows up in the royal court, but he is still somewhat close to his blood family and is deeply concerned with his people. It is thanks to him that Pharaoh gives the slaves a day of rest, the Sabbath.
Eventually, Moses has to flee Egypt, because he murdered an Egyptian man that tried to rape an Israelite woman. It’s clarified that, technically, Moses didn’t commit murder at all, as Egyptian merited death because “he had forced the Israelite woman to commit adultery with him”.
Pharaoh forgave Moses for a lot of stuff, but this wouldn’t be one of them.
“And Pharaoh heard of this affair, and he ordered Moses to be slain, so God sent his angel, and he appeared unto Pharaoh in the likeness of a captain of the guard.
And the angel of the Lord took the sword from the hand of the captain of the guard, and took his head off with it, for the likeness of the captain of the guard was turned into the likeness of Moses.
And the angel of the Lord took hold of the right hand of Moses, and brought him forth from Egypt, and placed him from without the borders of Egypt, a distance of forty days' journey.”
If you know the story by the movies or even by the “official” telling in the Book of Exodus, you may think that now Moses will go straight to Midian, where he will marry Zipporah, but you would be wrong. There’s an entire new chapter in Moses’ life between these two events, one in which Moses would be king of Cush, Etiophia.
The fugitive Moses went to the camp of King Nikanos, or Kikianus, of Ethiopia, who was at that time besieging his own capital, which had been traitorously seized by Balaam and his sons and made impregnable by them through magic. Moses joined the army of Nikanos, and the king and all his generals took a fancy to him.
When Moses had spent nine years with the army when King Nikanos died, and he was made general. He drove out Balaam and his sons, and was proclaimed king by the Ethiopians. He then was obliged, by the wishes of the people, to marry Nikanos' widow, Adoniya. He became king at age 27, and ruled Ethiopia for 40 years, during which he considerably increased the power of the country. After forty years his wife, Queen Adoniya, accused him before the princes and generals of not having cohabited with her during the many years of their marriage, and of never having worshiped the Ethiopian gods. She called upon the princes not to suffer a stranger among them as king, but to make her son by Nikanos, Munahas or Munakaros, king. The princes complied with her wishes, but dismissed Moses in peace, giving him great treasures. Moses, now 67 years old, went from Ethiopia to Midian.
By now you would think the story finally would go the way other retellings of Moses’ life go. Wrong.
In Midian, Jethro keeps Moses in a dungeon for ten years, receiving as food only small portions of bread and water by Zipporah, without her father's knowledge. After ten years she reminded her father that he had at one time cast a man into the dungeon, who must have died long ago; but if he were still living he must be a just man whom God had kept alive by a miracle. Jethro went to the dungeon and called Moses, who answered immediately. As Jethro found Moses praying, he believed that he had been saved by a miracle, and liberated him.
Remember the staff?
Jethro asked every one who wished to marry one of his daughters to pull up the staff from his back garden; but no suitor had yet succeeded in doing so. Moses, on being set at liberty, walked in the garden, saw the rod, and read the inscription. He easily pulled it out of the ground and started using as a staff. Jethro thereby recognized Moses as the deliverer of Israel, and gave him the virtuous Zipporah as wife, together with much money.
Well, I will end the story here, because there’s so much wilder stuff ready to happen and I feel like this is enough for today. There’s so much more to tell like the way the completely unhinged way the Pharaohs treat the Hebrews:
“And whenever any deficiency was found in the children of Israel's measure of their daily bricks, the task-masters of Pharaoh would go to the wives of the children of Israel and take infants of the children of Israel to the number of bricks deficient, they would take them by force from their mother's laps, and put them in the building instead of the bricks;”
For the curious, the source I used for this was mostly “The Book of Jasher.” It’s not actually the Book of Jasher mentioned in Joshua and 2 Samuel, no matter how much translations such as that of Moses Samuel in 1840 want you to believe. Sefer haYashar (ספר הישר) is a medieval Hebrew midrash from the 16th century. Mormons strangely LOVE this book.
For all my Jewish friends I wish a happy Passover 😘😁
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Spooky Mulder's UFO Club (5)
After losing a bet, Scully is forced to join Spooky Mulder’s UFO Club. (actually it’s called The Study of Unexplained Phenomena Project, and it’s a class not a club, but whatever) Ridiculed throughout the school by students and staff alike, Scully wants to get it over with as soon as she can and come “back down to earth” when a class trip up to Alaska, to do their own investigations into the mysterious deaths of four hikers, finds them stranded with an unknown virus wreaking havoc and a woods that becomes its own entity at night, Scully realises this dumb little class packs a lot more horror than she bargained for.
It'll be some time before the next chapter is posted, I want to write a couple more before then. For the time being, enjoy what is probably my favourite chapter so far.
Chapter Four | AO3 | @today-in-fic
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Chapter Five: Can't Help Falling In Love.
With a row all to himself on the plane, Mulder chucks his carryon bag onto the floor, splays out across the seats with his feet up, headphones on, content to just chill out for the next eight hours.
At first, nothing else really exists around him. There’s some general chattering around him that he catches just under the blare of his music, Harrison exclaiming to Reyes, and everyone else nearby, how she’s never been on a plane before and the woman behind him bitching about a co-worker to her flying partner. Everything else is just white noise as he battles a Ratatta on his Gameboy. Throwing a Pokeball at it gives him a moment to look around and his eyes land on Scully in the seat opposite him; stiff as a board, hands clutching tightly around the armrests, her eyes closed as she seems to be making an effort to slowly breath in and out. Concerned, he places his Gameboy on the tray table and tugs off his headphones. A glance at Ethan tells Mulder that the other boy was seemingly asleep, sagged against the window, eyes shut. He leans over gently patting Scully’s arm.
“You good?” Mulder asks when Scully reopens her own eyes.
“Fine,” she answers curtly. Mulder cocks his head to the side. Scully glances around, making sure nobody is in earshot as she leans in closer. “Okay, don’t tell anyone but I am terrified of flying.”
Mulder smiles sympathetically.
“You’re laughing at me…” Scully says with a pout.
“I’m not, really,” assures Mulder. He takes another look at Ethan. “Is he really asleep?”
Scully looks herself. “I think so.”
Mulder shuffles back over to his seat. “Come here, before we take off.”
Hastily unbuckling her seatbelt, Scully moves herself and her bag into the seat next to Mulder. As she refastens the seatbelt, he grabs his Gameboy off the tray and angles it so they can both see it.
“You know what this is right?” Mulder asks.
His questions earns him a punch in the arm and a look.
“Yes, I know what a Gameboy is. My younger brother has one.”
“Right.” The Ratatta caught, Mulder continues on with his task through a forest.
“What are you playing?” Scully asks.
“Pokemon,” Mulder answers with a smile.
The plane rumbles to life, getting ready to speed down the runway. Mulder keeps Scully’s attention on the game.
“You know how to play, right?”
Scully shakes her head.
“You go round battling and collecting these creatures called Pokemon. Some are based on our animals, some completely made up. You’re a trainer and you battle other trainers to win money so you can buy things like healing potions and powerups.”
The plane begins to gather speed as it ploughs down the runway, the momentum forcing them back. Scully’s attention is taken away from the game as the plane begins to lift up, she gasps, grasping the armrests and clinging on for dear life as her body grows tense.
“Hey,” Mulder says tapping her thigh and bringing her attention back to him. “It’s okay.” He takes his headphones and slips them over her head. He presses play on his Walkman and hears the faint tune of Elvis’ voice as he sings I Can’t Help Falling In Love. Scully smiles, more at ease as the plane starts to even out, and Mulder smiles back, happy his efforts have worked. The game still positioned so the two of them can see, he wanders about the forest collecting and battling as Scully watches on, asking questions. An hour into the flight, he passes the Gameboy to Scully, giving her a turn. She makes two Pokemons she attempted to catch faint and loses all the battles but she’s enjoying herself, that’s all that matters. They share snacks, listen to his War of the World’s tape as they eat dinner, and Mulder winds her up with some bizarre theory as he intended to. All in all, it’s a great flight, one made even better when, halfway through, Scully falls asleep, her head falling onto his shoulder. Mulder stares, awestruck for what feels like a long time before a huge smile whips across his face. He slips his headphones on, turning out towards the window, I Can’t Help Falling In Love playing into his ears.
Mulder blinks a couple of times, coming to. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright light coming through the window. He runs a hand over his face, jostling something next to him.
Scully. She makes a disturbed noise, shifting in her sleep in her seat, her head still against his shoulder as she gets comfortable once more.
The plane steadily drops down and Mulder looks out to see the small specs of civilisation below him.
“We’ll be landing soon,” Skinner says as he makes his way past Mulder’s seat. Mulder nods and turns to Scully, gently tapping her awake.
“Hey Scully,” he whispers. She makes a sound, awakening. “Skin-Man says we’re landing soon.”
“Uh-hmm…”
Mulder smiles. “That means you gotta awake up.”
Her eyes open, big and blue and still glazed over with sleep. She looks beautiful and Mulder looks away before he does something he’ll regret.
“Where are my glasses?” Scully asks, frowning and sitting up. She stretches as Mulder reaches forward into the basket where he’d tucked her glasses safely away earlier and hands them to her.
She takes them, thanking him, and puts them on.
“Can you see much without them?” he asks.
She nods. “But I get headaches if I don’t wear them so…” She shrugs.
It’s Mulder’s turn to nod. “I’m supposed to wear reading glasses but I don’t.” He looks away like she’s going to berate him. She doesn’t. Instead she just smiles.
“And that’s why you get headaches,” she says tapping his nose.
“Wake up, Minette,” says Skinner, not so gently tapping the boy on the arm. “We’re landing.”
Ethan startles awake, wiping the sleep away from his face and sitting up. He looks to the side of him, to where Scully should be sitting. Instead, his eyes catch to where she actually sits, next to Mulder and while Ethan can’t see her expression with her back to him, he can definitely see Mulder’s- grinning ear to ear like it’s his fucking birthday. Ethan leans back, watching them through veiled anger, seething at the sight.
“All passengers to fasten their seatbelt as we prepare for landing,” the pilot’s voice rings through the speakers.
Mulder fastens his seatbelt and looks to Scully, her expression one of anxiety again.
“You good, Scully?” he asks.
“Could I listen to your music again?”
“Of course.” As he’d done during take-off, he slips the headphones over her head again. The plane jostles slightly as it moves down. He feels her hand slip into his. Mulder looks down, seeing their hands and gives hers a reassuring squeeze as the plane fully begins its descent downwards.
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The catastrophic risk to human life in the event of a containment breach had been rigorously considered from day one of the Murak Project. Ironically, the destruction of Humanity’s greatest experiment ultimately came from a break *in*.
A hulking juggernaut of psycho-cybernetic augmentation ploughs through the facility, the battering ram of a terrorist syndicate that floods through the shattered remnants of its wake. The sophistication of the bio-titan’s design has triggered a crisis within the scrambled site security. What organisation could possibly have the resources to develop a weapon of this calibre entirely in secret? And what else might this group be capable of deploying?
Intercepted Syndicate communications identify the being as “Brutus”. It appears sapient, though is evidently not the commanding authority of this assault. As with the rest of the operatives invading the facility, it appears to be targeting a presently unspecified individual, presumably help in the deepest levels restricted to the most valuable and dangerous test subjects of the Murak Project.
Brutus appears completely resistant to psychic attack, a crippling counter to the facility’s primary defence fortification. Unknown phenomena has also been observed such as the rapid decomposition of organic matter and subsequent siphoning into the chassis of the entity— an extremely esoteric weapon by even the Murak Project’s standards which is being frantically analysed by surviving faculty staff, desperate for a breakthrough as the indomitable shadow grows closer and closer...
MURAK BREACH 3
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Fossil fuel companies have ploughed more than £147m into British universities in seven years and been given “horrifying” influence over academic degree courses.
An investigation by openDemocracy today reveals that BP, Shell and Equinor are among the firms routinely invited to private meetings with university officials, with some institutions taking direct advice on how to run engineering and geoscience degrees.
One university even had discussions with an oil company about how to push back against “anti-oil rhetoric”.
The influence extends to Freedom of Information (FOI) laws, with corporations telling universities how to respond to questions from students and journalists.
In many cases, these cosy relationships have grown as fossil fuel giants pump huge sums of money into university campuses, including donations and research funding.
Records obtained by openDemocracy show 60 institutions have received donations since 2016/17, with Oxford, Cambridge and Imperial College London accounting for two thirds of the total figure.
The funding is part of an international trend that has seen fossil fuel companies also channelling at least £74m into universities in the EU.
Responding to openDemocracy’s investigation, Green Party MP Caroline Lucas called on universities to cut financial and academic times with fossil fuel companies immediately.
“Students will be horrified to learn of the shady and manipulative influence of fossil fuel companies happening on their own campuses,” she said.
“Fossil fuel giants seeking to youthwash their own reputation by handing over dirty money to universities, and even attempting to influence academic programmes, can’t hide the fact that their climate-wrecking pollution is putting young people’s futures in jeopardy.”
Countering ‘anti-oil rhetoric’
More than a dozen universities admitted taking advice on degree courses from fossil fuel companies, including inviting them to sit on advisory boards. They include Oxford, Edinburgh and University College London.
The University of Aberdeen has recently taken advice from at least 11 oil and gas companies and invited their officials to board meetings. At the same time, it has also accepted close to £4m from the industry, including BP, Shell and Equinor.
The university boasts that its Master’s course in “integrated petroleum geoscience” has a track record of getting graduates into “leading positions across the international oil and gas industry”, adding that more exploration in the future will make this a “vibrant industry to enter”.
But when student numbers started to fall �� from 23 in 2020 to just eight in 2022 – officials discussed how to reverse the trend.
Minutes of a meeting that took place last year reveal an advisory board member suggested that a “significant publicity drive” could help boost student numbers in the face of “anti-oil rhetoric”.
When discussing the 50th anniversary of the Masters course, a member of the advisory board said it would be best to keep any celebrations “under the radar to avoid the negative press”.
A spokesperson for Aberdeen University admitted when asked by openDemocracy that the comment had related to concerns about the risk of negative commentary from “opponents of oil and gas” – but said the view did not reflect the university’s position.
The university has refused to disclose who made the remark, but officials from Shell, Equinor, Harbour Energy, Tantalus Oil and Spirit Energy were all in attendance, alongside university staff.
Equinor had enjoyed even closer access to Aberdeen’s courses after one of its officials was invited to become an external examiner, before stepping down last year. It has also given away tens of thousands of pounds’ worth of student scholarships.
A spokesperson said Equinor was currently sponsoring the integrated petroleum geosciences Master’s course, and confirmed that the company had provided more than £6m in funding for UK universities between 2019 and 2023.
“We are proud to collaborate with universities in developing talented young people who will become the energy leaders of tomorrow,” said a spokesperson.
The company also sponsors the GeoNetZero Centre for Doctoral Training, a programme of PhD research and training in geoscience involving 12 universities.
In 2021, the university announced plans to divest from all fossil fuel companies. But it said this would not extend to cutting ties with the industry altogether, as it would “continue to work with the energy sector to train the next generation”.
A spokesperson said the university’s “long-standing relationship with industry” made students more employable. They claimed Aberdeen was committed to reducing emissions and that industry partnerships were “vital” for meeting global targets around energy transition.
‘Confidential conduit of information’
At Imperial College London, more than £67m in funding has been taken from fossil fuel giants since 2016, including huge amounts from Shell.
The money is part of a cosy relationship. For the last ten years, an advisory board for its Department for Chemical Engineering has included a Shell senior director called Edward Daniels.
The executive left Shell last month after more than two decades, during which time he helped defend the company’s reputation “where Shell’s positions could be controversial”, according to his Linkedin profile.
Daniels took up the role at Imperial College London in 2013 – the same year that he personally lobbied government officials to help protect the company’s oil interests in the Niger Delta, despite having a terrible environmental and human rights record.
More recently, he has spoken in support of the controversial undeveloped Cambo oil field off the coast of the Shetland Islands, claiming that the environmental impact of the project would be “tiny” – despite warnings from the International Energy Agency that no new oil fields should be approved if the world is going to meet its climate targets.
Meanwhile, his university role involves him providing a “confidential conduit of information” to students, researchers and uni staff.
He has previously told students that Shell “sincerely believes” in sustainable energy. But he added: “For a company like ours we need to do that in a way that is profitable. We have to meet the needs of our shareholders.”
Daniels went on to refer to the “climate change debate”.
A spokesperson for Imperial told openDemocracy that, since 2020, it had committed to engaging in research partnerships with fossil fuel companies only where the research “forms part of their plans for decarbonisation, and only if the company demonstrates a credible strategic commitment to achieving net-zero by 2050”.
Analysis suggests Shell and a number of companies it wholly or partly owns have between them given more money to British universities than any other fossil fuel company since 2016/17, amounting to at least £54m. In some cases, officials for the oil giant have even been invited to take teaching positions.
They include Owain Tucker, who has lectured students at Edinburgh’s Heriot-Watt University since 2020 on a course the university says will prepare students for a career in the traditional oil and gas sector, among others. Shell has given more than £2.1m to the university since 2016/17.
In 2021, Tucker was invited by the University of Manchester to speak at a climate event. The university has accepted at least £1.6m from Shell in recent years.
Emails seen by openDemocracy reveal that Tucker insisted the discussion focused on technical challenges, instead of “philosophical debates” about “what society might choose to do” about climate change.
A spokesperson for Shell said its “long and valued relationships” with British universities have “driven research supporting the energy transition and UK energy security”. They added that Shell “aims to become a net-zero emissions energy business by 2050”.
‘Commercial interests’
When openDemocracy sent requests under the Freedom of Information (FOI) Act, several universities refused to disclose documents relating to these companies, claiming it would “prejudice” commercial interests.
Nottingham University received money from mining companies that have “very specific non-disclosure agreements” attached, which include a ban on releasing the names of the projects being funded.
Glasgow University said confidentiality was essential to attract industry employees to advisory boards who might otherwise be “hesitant to engage due to concerns about the potential public exposure”.
Heriot-Watt University has taken £7m from fossil fuel companies in recent years. Internal guidelines state that “no minutes are taken” during advisory board meetings, meaning there is no record of the advice given by a representative of the petrol firm TotalEnergies, which sits on the advisory board for the university’s Institute of Geoengineering.
A spokesperson later claimed that minute-taking was now being promoted as “best practice” at the meetings, adding that advisory boards don’t have authority to make decisions.
Meanwhile, Oxford University – which has taken nearly £1m from BP since 2016/17 – refused to disclose correspondence with a company official responsible for BP’s relationships with British universities. Oxford claimed that disclosure would breach data protection laws.
But records seen by openDemocracy show that some universities have given fossil fuel firms direct influence over how they respond to FOI requests.
They include Bristol University, which was the UK’s first university to declare a “climate emergency” in 2019, pledging to play a “key role in fighting climate change”.
Yet it signed research contracts in 2018, 2019 and 2020 with the likes of Shell and BP, which say that Bristol University must “immediately notify” the companies and give them “an opportunity to oppose” disclosures under the Freedom of Information Act. According to openDemocracy analysis, the university has benefited from more than £200,000 of funding from Shell and BP.
The University of Bath also had similar agreements with the two companies.
Meanwhile, two contracts with the mining company BHP Billiton say Bristol University will give it “all reasonable legal rights and avenues… to avoid or minimise the impact” of any disclosures made under the FOI Act. The university has taken at least £2.3m of funding from BHP Billiton.
These legal promises have been upheld by the university. In one case, internal emails show that Equinor was consulted over an FOI request about the funding it has provided, having signed a similar contract with the university.
The university's FOI team asked Equinor whether it believed the information should be withheld. Equinor replied: “Could you please advise whom the FOI request is coming from?” The university told openDemocracy it did not give the person’s name, which would have been a breach of data protection laws.
A spokesperson for Bristol University said that these contract stipulations were “standard”. It admitted that funders’ views are taken into consideration but that the university has “ultimate responsibility for deciding what information is disclosed”.
Oxford University also regularly consults fossil fuel companies about FOI requests, having taken between £10.8m and £20m in funding from them since 2016/17.
When openDemocracy started this investigation last year, records show Oxford informed Shell and Equinor that we had requested information about their relationships. Oxford also flagged requests – but did not reveal names – from students and student journalists to Shell and BP
And emails reveal that it followed BP’s wishes that it should be vague about the amount of money it had donated to finance university projects, and to redact the titles of research projects it was funding.
Elsewhere, the University of Aberdeen was unable to give details about a research project with the Spanish petrochemical firm Repsol, saying that it was tied up in a three-year confidentiality clause. In another instance, an FOI response to openDemocracy was delayed after Aberdeen consulted BP about its response.
Funding across Europe
openDemocracy’s investigation follows hundreds of requests to universities asking for details on donations, grants and other funding from oil, gas and mining companies. They were also asked to provide details on funding from firms connected to oil exploration in the North Sea.
But the true scale of fossil fuel funding is likely to be far higher, as some universities didn’t respond and others refused to provide exact figures.
Our analysis comes as Investigate Europe – the investigative co-operative which openDemocracy worked alongside – reveals that universities in the EU have taken millions from fossil fuel companies.
According to the research, Norwegian universities received the most, while those in Ireland, Sweden and Spain also accepted funding.
BP and the University of Oxford did not respond to openDemocracy’s requests for comment.
*This investigation was developed with support of Journalismfund Europe.
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「Murakami-san’s Place」 Advice Column Translation
Answered by Haruki Murakami
Illustrated by Masaru Fujimoto
Preface
I don’t often make public appearances and so once every few years, I exchange email and such with my readers for a limited time. The last time I did this was about nine years ago, and even back then, I received so much mail that it was tough to read through all of them. But this time, driven by the growing pervasiveness of the ever convenient smartphone, the amount of email I received exceeded even my greatest expectations and it has become quite the ordeal.
In the end, it required over three months to read the 37,465 emails that were sent within the span of 17 days. But I read through all of them properly! From that number I selected and replied to 3,716 emails. And from there, 473 emails have been put into this book. Quite frankly, I was exhausted. My shoulders were stiff, my eyes hurt, and I had three months’ worth of work I haven’t done. What a disaster, I thought. But since it’s something I’ve started, I stuck by fully completing it. I felt like I was holding a shovel alone, ploughing through a big snow fall that kept on going with no end in sight. I was quite unsteady in the end.
But despite the trouble, it was very fun. I literally received a mountain of questions and information from around the world. When I read them I thought, “I see, I am rather intimately connected with the world in this way.” I’ve come to really understand that little by little. What I keenly feel as I continue to do this work is that there are things in the world to which volume is important. That is, at any rate, the full extent of any given situation come into view when things are piled in front of you in bulk.
See, I think smart people wouldn’t set out on such a troublesome task like this in the first place. Honestly speaking, there were times when even I thought to myself, “why have I gone and started on such a bothersome whimsy,” and regretted the whole thing. But surely there is meaning in it precisely because it is bothersome. When things have suddenly piled up, I can actually see it with my eyes and feel it with my hands. That’s when I think “oh, that’s right, this is what I wanted to do,” and finally feel satisfied. It’s very important to be able to see with your own eyes and touch with your own hands. That’s what I think.
The 473 emails that have been put into this book were carefully handpicked by myself and the staff, but there were others that were too good to pass on, so an e-book that compiles all of the 3,716 emails answered has been released alongside this book called “Mr. Murakami’s Place Complete Edition.” Please read that as well if you’re interested. But it seems like you would have to be quite determined to read this one through as it is, so please hang in there!
Furthermore, the emails of those who had not given their consent for publication, as a general rule, have been discarded. I appreciate your understanding.
At the time I was to start this project, Mizumaru Anzai, who I have been working with all this time, suddenly passed away. I was worried about what to do, but Masaru Fujimoto picked up where he left off and furnished the text with delightful and wonderful illustrations. Thanks to that, I was able to also enjoy doing the work. I am sincerely grateful.
[ translated entries masterpost ]
Please Note: This is an unofficial translation. I do this in my spare time and at my own pace. This is for my personal use. Please do not repost or reproduce this without my permission.
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Empathy for the Devil Commentary - Chapter 8
Alright so this is more of a commentary than a re-read? I mean I AM re-reading the chapter, I just haven’t read the rest of the story yet sooooo yeah. Might do a full story re-read later (probably the physical copy, although I might need two so I can just totally write directly in one BUT that’s the same story for another day...)
I already love this pic. Sunset looking cool af, ready to go out to explore the City. Except that, I just remembered it wasn't really Sunset now was it? But it is seen through a mirror, so it reflects the real person inside. Admittedly, I’m not knowledgeable on art. Now this picture could just be based on how shading/lighting works in this scene, but I also see the shading splitting Sunset’s face down the middle. The two sides of Sunset. And/or Our Sunset and The Other Sunset. Also check out that skyline!
Also also! It could just be Flash! Reading ahead y’know I realize that he’s out there with the others too, looking for Other Sunset. Maybe he likes being Sunset because he actually feels cool and confident and everything that he admires in her? The other two sides of Sunset, the physical and the immaterial.
There was a different path out there for her. The human Sunset confirmed its existence—even if that counterpart didn’t have it all figured out herself.
But you’re already on a different path, aren’t you? And you yourself don’t have it all figured out! Albeit it is a different start, but what’s stopping you from pursuing the path you think you could have taken? Is it that you just need a sign? A living cutie mark in the form of the other you? If you find the other path that the Other Sunset is taking, what would that do? Would it feel right in taking her path too?
She would’ve preferred to take her motorcycle, but given the winter storm, it would’ve been a friskily brisk ride. Too brisk to risk on long distances.
Too brisk to risk!
Too cold to feel bold!
She’s young, not old,
but that winter storm,
will have her slowed!
Then again, the sun finally started to peek through the clouds, and even as a winter chill clung to their bodies like wet clothes, the hope of warmth broke through. The staff parking lot smelled like the salt melting the mini-mountains of ice ploughed to the back, the breeze telling tale of voyages yet to be sailed. But then, the school’s back entrance decided instead to have fun with them and reveal Principal Celestia talking to a nodding, attentive Solstice Shiver, who had undone the top button of his dress shirt.
Oh okay I see how it is. You have this description both about Sunset but ALSO about Solstice and Celestia. Celestia warming everyone rn as the sun does, because she warms Solstice (who may or may not be influencing the weather, yes?)
Also, HE’S DRESSED LIKE THAT IN THIS WEATHER? THERE’S DEFINITELY SOMETHING SHADOWY SHADY GOING ON.
… Okay, they had zero defense against being found out.
Zero defence indeed. Get ready for a knockout. Sometimes you just gotta give up and let Red Eyes Black Dragon Sombra’s gonna blast away your life points.
Rainbow Dash whispered in Flash’s ear whom first looked at her to confirm he’d heard right, then turned to Applejack to repeat, “We’ll... tell you when you’re older?”
Yes! RD and Flash bonding time! Especially since it’s a neat little callback to an earlier chapter. Flash is slowly becoming one of the Rainbooms.
After a solid extra second of working through complex equations...
This and her reaction when she finally realized what was going on made me laugh, always nice seeing Twilighting. And I thought they just turn teachers off after school? Sure is easier to think that way.
Man, it’s cramped in there! You sure you need all those books?”
All those books can double as a weapon! The best weapon in the world. Make sure you practice your swinging, and also workout your back because it can be heavy... and also also make sure Spike isn’t in there when you do said swinging.
"Yup, a while ago, but yup!"
Amazing. Gloriosa didn't say no backsies or set a time specific to when he could use it sooooo its all good! Loopholes in sibling antics.
Timber frowned at Flash who was currently in Sunset's body but also not in Sunset's clothes. His hoodie looked especially baggy on her frame, but, Sunset supposed, he must've liked it that way. "But uh, how are you going to catch the scent?"
Hmmm... or maybe Flash is still feeling body dysphoria of his own? Not only switching from one person’s body to another, but making it a body of the opposite gender too can eliminate any sense of euphoria you might have had if you like being your other gender. Sunset was Timber, but she was also used to being a pony. Totally different body, so maybe a male body just didn’t phase her compared to that. Poor Flash, first the chub troubles and now this. And maybe he’s ashamed? Doesn’t feel like he deserves to look like Sunset since he looks up to her and the other girls so much.
“Shimmer Beta? Sunshim the Lesser?” Pinkie thought aloud, rubbing her chin. “Sunset 2: Electric Boogaloo? Mmm nah. Sequels are rarely as good as the first.”
Oh my god pinkie, these are great. Gold for sure... and maybe the sequel in this case is veerrrrry not good. Very evil. Evil twins amirite?
As Timber rounded the jeep to the driver’s side and Sunset opened her own door, she let a smile flow onto her face. “Promise not to get too excited when you see the other me? I’m the jealous type.”
Eyup, you sure are Sunset. No doubt about that. But also what if she is hotter than you? Maybe she’s been exercising? Twilight sure did date someone who seemed to be exercising. It could be that the other you is hotter to her. That sure would not help the self-confidence.
Not to be outdone, Sunset shrugged. “Can’t. I’m not in my pants.” And she shut the door before her comeback could be out-sassed any further.
Checkmate! Love the sass between all these jokers.
“But you’re going to need to be open-minded.”
Sticking the Everfree-mobile into first gear, Timber’s eyes glittered like a treasure lost in the bracken of the woods. “Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.”
!
It sure seems like it! But what does that mean for this story? Other than he’s a good... camp counselor... But there’s a lot of potential for where this could go with an open-minded lad like him. Sunset couldn’t have been forced to bond with a better boye.
No dice in her old haunts like the aviary a town over that reminded her of the phoenix aviary she used to hang out with Philomena in, or the tea house a town after that (however they did find a lovely jasmine vanilla tea).
In seeing what Sunset thought could have been potential places to visit, it really feels more like an exercise in bonding with Timber rather than actually trying to find Other Sunset. Philomena and tea? If she wasn’t raised to do all these things with this Celestia, what are the chances the Other Sunset would have similar interests? Unless its some other high authority figure. Then again, Sunset said as much and they’re just places on the way to the actual more likely destinations.
Ex-Principal Cinch was now a secretary there and the less power that woman had over impressionable youths, the better.
Oh and I totally see this as Sunset taking the opportunity to have the smug satisfaction of seeing what happened to Cinch for herself - I’m sure a conversation with Shining Armor might have come up about what became of her.
As they pulled onto the interstate, they passed a scruffy looking man with a hat constructed from tin-foil and a cardboard sign that read The End of Days is Nigh! All Hail the Crack in the Sky!
ALL HAIL THE GLOW CLOUD CRACK IN THE SKY
“Yep, just. Just living out some childhood dreams over here, don’t mind me.”
Aww... they better go on a real road trip after this mess is over! It’d make for a great summer vacation. After all he’s done and everything and all I’m sure is going to happen, Timber deserves it.
“I’m gonna go ahead and assume that’s not a zeppelin?”
Seems like Timber isn’t the only one experiencing new things. I was judgey at first but really it’s easy to just... not know things when it’s hardly comes up in your life, and of course Timber’s been very isolated, it’s jarring to see just how isolated. And same with Sunset. She’s experiencing things in a similar way to Timber since most of her life, all she knew was high fantasy Equestria, and most of Timber’s life has been the isolated backwoods forested areas and Canterlot City.
She’d heard Rarity talk about taking one to Prance after high school, at the very least on vacation if not more
IF NOT MORE?! SHE REALLY EMBRACING THE PRANCE/PRENCH LIFESTYLE TO WORK THERE? Look I know it’s regarded as a fashion capital BUT WHAT ABOUT APPLEJACK???
*The Ex Files theme plays*
Okay I was assuming they were a thing but also more like, just me shipping it.
“I have! Well, not that kind.” Blindly snagging the last trail mix, he focused more on changing lanes than Sunset. “I don’t remember much but my dad used to take me up in his water bomber or the rescue chopper when I was little. Never when there was an actual wildfire in the forest ‘cause y’know, good dad, but he’d let me see the whole valley from up there. Gloriosa says I loved it.”
Hmmm... Timber doesn’t just teleport to random places. Okay well it seems like it. But he has teleported to places that are either A) Higher than the average teenager should be without safety equipment or B) Places you’d travel via plane. Waking up with his bed in the lake might or might not be a result of teleportation, but if it was, it can still be connected to his dad because water bomber. Connecting that feeling of awe/the sublime during those moments in nature with a parent can create powerful emotions that work especially well with magic.
Eh. Looks pretty weird to me, but hey, if the girls end up in colleges across the country or all over the world, I guess I could give it a shot.
Sunset, if you do go flying… avoid Pearson.
Also thinking about this and how likely it is for them to be in schools all over the world. I feel like it would fit their pony counterparts in that, even though they move on to their own personal journeys, they’ll still stay connected to each other.
Timber’s smile waited, patient and unassuming. “Lore-building. I feel you.
First of all: “Lore-building”? Dork term. Second: Timber being essentially what he said his specialty was - open-minded. Thirdly: The “I feel you” and then talking about his own experience... literally empathy for Sunset - Empathy for the Devil. (Note: I noticed this in particular only after having read Chapter 9). And THEN he deflects the conversation topic back to Sunset’s court, making sure that he was trying to show that he has an idea of what she’s going through, but doing what he can to not make it about him.
“So you basically got one of those Mom heart tattoos?”
Hey it’s the part! :D
The part she didn't say out loud was: I thought she wanted to adopt me. She didn't feel like getting emotional over silly filly fantasies.
;~;
Imagine that. All that opportunity and validation and then, a line is drawn. You still don’t have a family. Then you try your best to get what little love you can from the closest thing to a parental figure and then its gone and the opportunity is given to someone who already has a loving family.
I’m also totally picturing Sunset as either a Halo Spartan or a Witcher... or Samus Aran - taken at a young age and trained to be the ultimate warrior. She pretty much was, except the PG version. Not necessarily stoic like those fellas (although I’m not familiar enough with Samus’ personality) but still ambitious to be the best of the best and then… someone actually shows them love and then they’re like ??? “What the fuck is this? I’m going to die for you now. Also kill for you. Oh wait that’s bad? Okay I’ll violently maim for you instead! Oh that’s bad too? How about if I only do it emotionally?” Would not want to be SciTwi and Wallflower.
"Oh yeah. Total heart eyes. Listen, I'm not saying I know when she started to have a thing for you, but she did explain Midnight Sparkle by raving about the angel who saved her so…
Empathy from the Angel
It’s all a matter of perspective, isn’t it?
“Welcome to Nightfall Reach Military Academy.”
Been trying to figure out the naming behind this. I mean it’s kinda badass already but took some looking up tbh. Legit didn’t even think of ‘Nightfall’ as a synonym of ‘sunset’ and ‘twilight’ so now there’s that. But in looking up ‘reach’, well, there’s a lot there. As a noun, it can be an ‘individual part of a progression or journey’ or the ‘extent or range of knowledge’, as a verb it can mean to strain after something, or simply reach there, their destination. It can also mean reaching out, reaching out to someone (Sunset reaching out to Timber’s a good fit!), or to stretch out or extend. Or heck it could be all of them. Knowing that this is essentially where their knowledge ends as to where Other Sunset could be, it could be Sunset straining after... a whole heckin lot tbh. And it could be her trying to connect with Timber. It could be more as these aren’t even all the definitions! Or perhaps this is where nightfall reaches, and goes no further. For in the dark of the night, the Moon commands the tides, but the tides dare not pass beyond the fortifications and defenders of this bastion.
Or you could be a nerd like me and think it’s a Halo reference especially with that previous thought I had about Sunset being a spartan.
Or or it could just be a cool name with the word reach in it, like Dragonsreach.
And between you and me, it wouldn’t shock me if someone thought the other me needed to straighten up and fly right.
Okay, so there’s the whole Nightmare Moon war thing, being part of the guard because she thought her mom was, and the thing where she wanted to protect the Princess. Like, there’s some things that don’t feel like they add up here. The whole “mom was a guard” thing itself could be made up. Sunset wanted to protect the Princess... why? Because Celestia was the only one who took care of her. If she hadn’t, then would she have wanted to do that? Protect the only person that showed her love (even if she didn’t outright adopt her). Would there have been someone else who replaced Celestia like that in this world?
Sunset’s hope that, someone out there she didn’t know about was really looking out for her other self, and decided she could do with some discipline. So, what would’ve happened had Celestia not taken her in? Would someone else have? Would she have gone to the military as the only way to get opportunities others are afforded when they have social support systems/people looking out for them? Something similar to the life she’s currently facing? She did say she had a talent in pyromagic, but does that translate to warfare here? Could be fireworks instead! Or a firefighter. Controlled burns. She could see Timber a whole lot more!
And then there’s Timber. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just letting her go through with this so she could get a taste of what her life might have been and could still be.
And Sunset here is the one who she herself thinks she might need to straighten up and fly right. Based on how she lives her life now, that could be reason enough to join. Doesn’t need to be a total hooligan constantly breaking the laws like smashing garbage cans, spraying graffiti, sneaking around campus in a full stealth suit, or... running across a snowy battlefield carrying your companion through to the other side and sacrificing yourself along the way...
...okay maybe she’s perfect for the military.
Love how everything is now a mission when they reach... Reach…
That’s kind of my thing. Rainbow ‘history buff’ Dash, they call me. You can spread that around.”
Callback to the pony version where RD had such a hard time with Wonderbolt history. Poor poor Dash, but actually, poor Timber. He’s now joined the military and will be going off to war... the prank war.
Sunset hadn’t ever tried super hard in gym class, but if her future after high school involved a military academy and being part of something greater than herself, she wouldn’t mind hitting the punching bag a little more. Or even running a lap or two.
Who’s to say this won’t be the direction Sunset takes regardless? She’s trained for war as it is! Maybe all the skills she’s developed over the years won’t actually go to waste. Yay soft skills!
Speaking into a mic bending around from his headset, the tour guide performed his every sentence as if he were a professional wrestler in Rainbow Dash and Applejack’s favourite televised league, Worldwide Wrestling Theatrics (they insisted it was just a name). “I hope you’ve all enjoyed the museum portion of our tour, because it’s time to move on! Iron Will believes there’s no greater pleasure than watching the junior cadets perform a sunset salute to end another peaceful day.” He flexed so hard it looked painful.
Oh my god it’s Iron Will. I can see how he’d make a great Drill Sergeant too. And oh my god World Wide Wrestling Theatrics. And hey! Sunset salute! The nightfall connection!
And maybe foreshadowing? A true Sunset salute as the cadets salute their commanding officer, Sunset Shimmer? She could still be a counselor there! Or social worker.
She doesn’t have to even be any of those tbh. On the surface it doesn’t seem like empathy to be particularly great for the military, but having that sort of virtue in this context makes it all the better, because you’ll have a lot of power, but the empathy can keep you responsible and accountable to yourself and others - those under your command, those you may have to fight, and all the civilians in between. To quote Romeo Dallaire:
“You know, soldiers are very unusual people. On the outside, they are the hardest, most demanding, severe people, but underneath that, they are the most human, the most feeling, the most emotionally attached people who exist.”
And
“I have often been criticized for being an 'emotional' leader, for not being macho enough, but even during this early stage in my career, I believed that the magic of command lies in openness, in being both sympathetic to the troops and at the same time being apart, in always projecting supreme confidence in my own ability and in theirs to accomplish whatever task is set for us.”
These are traits that Sunset has, and would work well in that sort of life. She’s thinking about the impact that magic has on the entire student body now - not just her friend group. And it’s also something Sunset lacked before she came to this world. And of course Celestia had to learn from her mistake it by telling Twilight to go make friends.
Folks joke about how “Haha they defeated the villain with the magic of friendship! So cheesy!” happens in media, but that has so much merit in the real world, in so many aspects of life is friendship and the qualities of being a good friend something that is so relevant to making life better for everyone, for succeeding, and for overcoming some of the greatest problems of our time.
The notes sunk into her like the lake-buffeted breeze at her back. To her, that would always be the call of Canterlot Castle.
With all that’s similar here, might she truly feel at home in this place? Might this be where she wants to go?
Sunset continued to swear profusely and quite creatively as she followed Timber, wriggling on her belly under a low set of bars. She was almost glad she wasn’t in her own body; she doubted her steady diet of pizza pockets, toaster strudel, and leftover takeout would have served her well here. Sitting around streaming video games really did a number on the body, she guessed. That aside, Sunset Shimmer had exactly enough muscles to pick up a girl in her arms and swing her around. She had the queer amount, and that was about it.
Okay, with this in mind, it might not be where she wants to go anymore XD. Or maybe she’ll realize that she’s been put in enough situations that need her to be more fit that she should change that. Question is: is this a hurdle - something that she can and needs to overcome in order to be who she wants to be - or is it a barrier - something that just stands in your way that tells you to not bother with pursuing, because its a sample of a a life that you don’t want.
“The queer amount” - that’s the power of love, baby!
Timber managed the rest of the hurdles with almost too much ease, and Sunset thought it was stupidly unfair that he got Rainbow Dash’s agility and natural speed.
More of Sunset’s jealousy here. I mention it not just because the laundry list of people she’s jealous of gets longer, but also because its another instance of her being too hard on herself. Yes, her body’s not in great shape, but Timber was the one who shocked the whole gym class by running a lap in her body. He didn’t bring it up that her body was able to handle it, only that everyone was shocked she did it. Its not that she’s not capable, but she doesn’t even want to try, and when she has to try to she shifts the blame and loses confidence.
Timber Spruce slammed down onto the platform with wild eyes and a purse around his shoulder. Smiling feebly, Sunset would have cheered if she had any lung-power left. He saw her and the relief was palpable in his laugh, especially as he dug out Twilight’s back-up inhaler and guided it into her hands, helping her take the first puff.
Timber comin’ in clutch! That would be a better joke if it was actually a clutch.
Ngl this moment had me anxious for a sec there. And hey! I called it! Chalk one up for Other Marvel!
And I’m seeing reflections of the first time Timber landed in front of Sunset via teleportation, only with opposite feelings from her.
And I wouldn’t have figured out the teleporting thing if I didn’t have a good leader.
Leaaaderrrrrrrrrr
It’s your destiny
Commander Tempest.... okay with the explosive energy and fireworks connection that Pony!Tempest had, pyromagic might really not be too far off here. Really appreciate the inclusion of characters like these, no Other Sunset yet but there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing where these other characters end up. Now where’s the Other Starlight Glimmer? Pony-themed Russia? Prussia? Wait no, that was an actual thing.
The tall barbed-wire fences of the Tartarus Juvenile Detention Centre rose ahead and Timber took his hands off the steering wheel. “No. No way. Uh-uh. I’m turning the car around.”
Ooooooooh yikes. All or nothing, eh Sunset? Either you’re somewhere where you can be at your prime with all the skills needed to excel in a noble field among comrades (on in this case, friends since ‘respect for friends’ is one of NR’s core tenets) or... the opposite. Or I guess all those little places in between that you visited only once. Wild how that works. If someone didn’t push her to NR, then she would have just been a delinquent the rest of her life?
“Yeah, well, you’re not anymore and this is way too mean to yourself. To both of you! Other Sunset could be in lots of places! A motorcycle shop, leather jacket emporium, an ice cream parlor—I mean everybody likes ice cream, right?”
Yeeess my boy! Point out those middle paths! And point out where she might be wrong! He entertained her thoughts about NR, but this is where the line gets drawn.
The guard led them to a full-body metal detector, which meant Sunset had to forfeit her phone and the emergency sextant Twilight had in her pocket, but otherwise, they got through without issue. Timber did so under protest, pouting all the way.
I’m just picturing the guard now. Like “who tf just brings a sextant everywhere they go?”
The guard considered it, hemming and hawing. “Well. No Shimmers here, but we have a Glow. Could that be who you’re here to see?”
Ngl, it didn’t register with me that this was Cozy Glow until I started writing this thing out. That child is scary. What crimes did she commit in this world? Attempt to steal the nuclear codes?
Nothing that we could find, but we’ll keep looking, Twilight assured. She has to be somewhere.
That was it for a long while, maybe an hour or so. Then, out of nowhere, Sunset’s phone decided to blast Right There in Front of Me, the ring-tone she’d set for Twilight’s phone. Sunset’s heart leapt. “Hello?”
Maybe the Right there in Front of Me was for her reflection in Bevin’s art piece at the beginning! In the mirror! It’s just her that’s in front of her. She’s standing in her own way.
“—ber Brambleton Spruce, about 6 foot 3, 17 years old but acts 10, and he hasn’t been answering his phone!
Brambleton! I know I mentioned it last time as being funny but this time, I remember a certain comic featuring the Kingdom of the Deer, and Bramble was a character there! And of course I remember that Sunset visited Thicket with Celestia!
Went back and read that comic and it’s very reflective of Legend of Everfree! So it only makes sense! That and we had a potential name drop for Timber’s mom here but the deer mom/queen was never mentioned. But also also, Bramble seems like a different character than Brambleton here
Regardless, I think maybe it does show how people change when they can connect with different people and ideas. Bramble would likely have not gone beyond the forest until the events of the story made that happen, and Timber really didn’t leave Everfree either until recently. But Timber was essentially raised to welcome people to the forest instead. He said being open-minded was his specialty. Bramble was very much not open-minded at the start of the comic arc. But by the end that seems like it changed.
I don’t know what happened to Bramble after that story or how he changed other than the epilogue which implied he became more open, or what Timber was really like when his parents were around. Still, we can put two and two together and say that, even if they followed the same path, they both still changed, much like Sunset has. And if they didn’t, then the other universe isn’t so much of a reflection of the pony realm’s characters as Sunset thinks it is.
(And reading that comic hits waaaay too close to home rn. If only we had a hydra in the Greenbelt.)
“Just trying to be thorough!” Twilight promised, waving her hand as if to ward off the omen. “Although, that one was a relief not to find her in...”
It’s okay Twilight! I thought the same thing! You never know... like there’s cars in this universe ffs. Okay yeah there’s also not random magical monsters destroying the town on a weekly basis. OKAY YEAH THERE ARE MAGICAL DEMONS EVERYWHERE BUT ITS MORE LIKE, MONTHLY AND ONLY STARTED RECENTLY.
Leading them up the stone steps to city hall, Flash led the charge into the overly grand, heavy-doored entrance-way. A confusing statue of a horse and its pioneer human rider seeming to shake hand/hoof boasted the peaceful town motto at the statue’s base: Keeping Things Stable. The dream tax-payers built, Sunset supposed. And the one teenagers made fun of.
Omg what. WHAT. I... I don’t... I can’t....
what
lmfao but... this city is where the portal to Equestria is. And said portal isn’t just in a random spot in nature. It’s literally in a man(?)-made piece of architecture. Maybe both horses and humans made it??? I honestly never thought about it until now but ehhhhh????????
A bit of a pipsqueak, really. He held up a recording device. “Mayor! Mayor, over here! How much danger are the people of Canterlot City really in?”
Betcha he’s got a British accent too pfft.
The resemblance between Flash Magnus and Flash Junior still threw Sunset off.
Yo
Yooooooooooo
YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
All things considered, this is yet another case of the parallel’s between parallel worlds being different. It’s not just that Flash Magnus is the father of Flash Sentry instead of the ancestor, but also that Pony!Flash and Human!Flash are different people too. Guard in one, and guitarist/baker/hates gym class in the other. And it’s not that the Pony!Flash can’t be those other things, it’s a question of whether Human!Flash will be following in his dad’s footsteps to be that equivalent of a guard. What he is now, and what he will be in the future, are two things that can indicate again that this could be very different from the other universe, or the future can be very different from what the current path looks like.
Either one is possible, and both contradict how Sunset’s seeing things.
Similar to Timber/Bramble, Flash here might simply not have experienced the turning point in his life that brings him to be the equivalent of a guard. He’s constantly trying to be one of the girls, cheer them on, because he looks up to them, how brave and awesome they are at fighting big bads. He might still get that opportunity that changes everything for him.
Also
Flash can be referred to as Junior. hehehe
Magnus laughed. “Oh, I like you. Kids today, with their baggy pants and stupid hats. You’re one of a kind! You know, I think you’d even do well on the force. Where’d you find this one, deputy?”
Omg, deputy. It’s just like, another way to say Junior.
“We don’t know what to tell you kids. There is no other Sunset Shimmer.”
Okay, no other Sunset Shimmer? Fr? But waiiiiit... Sunset was an orphan, she might not have even known her parents, who would have even given her the name Sunset Shimmer?
*Checks bonus features*
Okay so we’ll never know anyway, dangit. Doesn’t mean that there isn’t one! Just that we won’t see her in this story. Maybe Tempest does know the Other Sunset, and maybe she does have a similar countenance/impression that should could see in Sunset-in-Twilight’s-body?
Global comments
Adding some global comments to shorten this thing a bit because Marvel’s writing here would keep me here all day and this post would be much much longer.
I loved all the little comedic elements. All the callbacks to the other characters that aren’t EqG Sunset that offer a bit of worldbuilding I’ve seen so little of (in general, I’m sure there’s plenty out there but I don’t really look into it much). I do also love Sunset’s bonding with Timber, showing how well they work together, how Sunset really needs a friend like him and everything. All these pieces being connected and coming together into something amazing. Of course, there’s so many chapters left so uh, gonna be a while with plenty of more conflict before we reach that.
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Biography of Xue Cheng (ZS38)
[He grew up in the south but later moved north, and served Houmochen Yue and then Yuwen Tai and the court at Chang'an.
Also a quite involved description of Emperor Wen of Western Wei's tipping vessels.]
Xue Cheng, courtesy name Jingyou, was a native of Fenyin in Hedong. His great grandfather Hongchang on encountering the chaos of Helian led his kinsmen to move away to Xiangyang. Cheng mourned his father at a young age. The family was impoverished and he personally ploughed [the fields] to support his grandmother, [but] if he had some leisure time, he read writings and records. At the time people were not yet amazed by him.
When Outside the Jiang [i.e. the southern realm] selected people, they very much considered families with generations [of service]. Cheng, since he was a migrated lodger, was not being picked up and employed. However, he relied on his talent to show his spirit, and not once chased after the gates of those with generations of benefice.
The Commander of the Central Gentlemen of the Left, Wei Qiandu of Jingzhao, spoke to Cheng, saying:
My lord's gates and lands are not inferior, and [your] personal talent is not lacking. Why does not Cheng rely on frequent visits to the personnel section?
Cheng said:
“Those with generations of birthright climb to high positions, the gallant and capable sink downto lowly companions.” The ancients considered it lamentable. [I] take the liberty of not yet being able to do it.
Qiandu announced to people, saying:
This one is young in years [but] extremely desolate and defiant. It is only that he has not come across the [right] time, and that is all.
Middle of Xiaochang [525 – 528], he took his staff and switch and returned to Luoyang. Before this, Cheng's granduncle Zhendu, together with his clansman Andu, took hold of Xu and Yan, and reverted to Wei. His son Huaijun saw Cheng, and they very much became friendly and on good terms with each other.
During Erzho Rong's deposing and installing [the emperor], he thereupon turned back to Hedong and halted at Huaijun's house. He did not interact with human beings, but the whole day read books, copied and summarized them in his own hands, having in hand two hundred scrolls. Indeed, the commandery warden, Yuan Xi, had at the time been inviting and soliciting him, treating him with equal courtesy. Huaijun always said:
You have returned to your home village, but do not make designs for producing a legacy, and do not assent to take a wife. Do [you] intend to go south again?
Cheng likewise contentedly secluded himself and did not change his habits. Middle of Putai [531 AD], he was designated Servant in Affairs-at-Centre, concurrently General who Cowes the Waves.
When Shenwu of Qi raised troops, Cheng then went east to roam within Chen and Liang. He spoke to his clansman Xiaotong, saying:
Gao Huan depends on troops to infringe on the Sovereign. Destruction and chaos will soon begin. Guanzhong is a land of superlative shape, surely there will be a hegemon king living there.
Therefore he and Xiaotong travelled together to Chang'an. Hoomochen Yue¤ heard about him, and summoned him to be Gentleman-at-Centre to the Acting Tribunal, with appointment as General who Quells the Distant and Colonel of Infantry. When Yue¤ murdered Heba Yue, all the people of the army congratulated and encourage each other. Cheng alone spoke to those close to him, saying:
Yue¤'s talents and strategies are basically few, and he wilfully murdered a good general. In the affairs of defeat and destruction, his then are not far off. We now forthwith will be made prisoners, what is there to congratulate and encourage!
Those who heard considered Cheng's words to be true, and therefore had a troubled appearance. Soon after Taziu pacified Yue¤, he pulled in Cheng to be Army Advisor of the Records Chamber.
When Xiaowu of Wei moved west, he was granted General who Conquers the Villains and Central Unassigned Grandee, and ennobled Baron of Xiayang county with an estate of 200 households. When Emperor Wen of Wei was enthroned, he was designated Attendant Gentleman of the Palace Writers, promoted General who Calms the East, got added to this estate 100 households, and advanced in feudal rank to be an Earl.
4th Year of Datong [538 AD], the Xuanguang [“Spreading Brillaince”] and Qinghui [“Pure Beauty”?] Halls were completed, and Cheng made a hymn for them. Emperor Wen of Wei also built two tipping vessels.
One of them had two transcendents who together held a single alms bow and placed together on a single plate. On the bowl lid there was a mountain, and the mountain had a fragrant air. One transcendent also held a metal pitcher which overlooked the top of the vessel. By using water to pour on the mountain, which then set out out into the pitcher and then gushed into the vessel, smoke and steam passed through and issued from within the mountain. It was spoken of as the Transcendent Tipping Vessel.
One of them had two lotus leaves [?] placed together on a single plate, their distance from each other a full chi, and in the middle of them there was a lotus seed hanging down above the vessel [?]. By using water to gush onto the leaves, which then set out onto the seed and flowed into the vessel. There were wild ducks and toads as decorations on it. It was spoken of as the Water Lily Tipping Vessel.
The two plates were each placed on a single couch, the bowl was round but the couch was square. In the middle there was a person, the image of telling the Three Qualities. Everything was set up in front of the Qinghui Hall. The vessels' shape resembled gong觥 pitchers but square. If they were full, they were level, and if overflown, they tipped over. Cheng made a hymn for each of them.
Beginning of Datong [535 – 551], the ceremonial regulations had many shortcomings. Taizu made Cheng, together with Lu Bian, Tan Zhu, and others assist in settling them. He himself, due to the roaming and partings in generations past, did not listen to tones or music. Even in secluded rooms and solitary places, he regularly had an anxious appearance. Later he was incriminated in an affair and died. His son Shu inherited. His office reached Lower Grandee of the Ritual Section, Ceremonies Similar Great General, and Diplomatic Envoy Deputy.
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Gods, I’m furious. (Shocker, I know - I’m usually so chill. /s)
Today’s update from Bullshit Island:
People are being arrested for anti-monarchist protests. One was for shouting at Andrew during the funeral procession, but two others were during accession announcements (eg the proclamation that Charles is now king.) One has since been ‘de-arrested’, a word I have literally never heard before in my entire 40+ years of life. This comes in the wake of the updated Policing Bill passed earlier this year which was already heavily criticised for its
A bank holiday has been declared for Monday. As there is only a week’s notice for this, this means:
Hospital appointments are being cancelled (bear in mind that wait lists for anything deemed routine have surged in the wake of Covid and loss of staff.)
There are reports that other people’s funerals are being cancelled in deference to, er, another funeral. This seems to be a decision made by individual providers, presumably based on staff requesting not to work on the bank holiday.
Every major supermarket is closing its stores on Monday.
A number of food banks are closing on Monday for the bank holiday as well, even though food bank usage has increased exponentially in the last few years. (Meanwhile, in 2010 the Queen applied for a poverty grant to pay for fuel bills for her palaces. The Crown Estate is worth something like £14B and the Queen herself had an estimated net worth of around £300M.)
Charles will not pay inheritance tax on what he gets from his mother, nor will any of the figures be released. (Second link is paywalled, but you get the gist.)
Royalists are twisting themselves into knots trying to justify the monarchy with all the usual arguments: they earn money through tourism, they do a lot of charity work, they serve the country, without a monarch we’d have the PM as President and nobody wants that.
Rebuttal: the palaces, the art, the crown jewels, etc will continue to exist without the royal family. People still visit Versailles and the Pyramids even though no king or pharaoh has been around for a long time now. They ‘serve the country’ exactly as much or as little as they wish to; not to mention that many of the places they ‘served’ did not want them there as subjugators in the first place. Whatever charity they contribute from their own wealth still raises the point of where they got all their wealth and privilege in the first place (hint, it was not through years of honest toil), and whether that wealth is in the best place and the best hands.
As for the ‘President’ angle, why do we need a ceremonial head of state in the first place? What does that provide that a government leader does not? Just someone to do all the hand-shaking photo ops the PM doesn’t have time for (in theory)? I don’t fancy the notion of ‘President Truss’ more than anyone else - she’s awful! Having something like the Royal Assent to provide checks and balances sounds good, in theory. But the people suggesting this also seem quick to point out that the Royal Assent thing hasn’t been invoked since something like 1708, because the monarchy is basically a formality. The Queen did meet with the Prime Minister quite regularly, but these meetings are under strict secrecy. The only things I’m aware she affected on government policy were things like getting herself exemption from disclosing her assets and complying with equalities legislation.
When Cameron and subsequent PMs committed to ploughing ahead with a disastrous no-deal Brexit even though their own reports and research (Yellowhammer etc) indicated it would harm the country? When Covid policy flip-flops and corruption left hundreds of thousands dead and friends of the government millions and billions in profit? When the son of a KGB agent was made a peer in the House of Lords? When the government and virtually all of the media are making a concerted effort to demonise trans people in order to splinter the LGBTQ+ movement? When the Prime Minster lied to the Queen’s very face? Crickets. Tumbleweed. At least, as far as we know.
So either we need the monarch to rein in the government, or the monarch is an empty figurehead without real power. Neither makes a good case for continuing it, frankly. If we need a check on the power of the government - and I would not dispute this - then why should such an important job default to someone who got there by an accident of birth? And if the monarch isn’t going to actually provide such a service and look out for the best interests of the country, then what bloody good are they and why should taxpayers fund their position when they are wildly, screamingly, privately wealthy already? Why can’t they pay for their own influence like every other billionaire? (Sarcasm, but not as much as I’d like.)
I’m not even going to get into the colonial BS because that’s been covered extensively by people who are much better informed and closer to the subject, but suffice to say, I stand behind the African, Indian, Indigenous, Irish, and other people expressing their concerns and dissatisfaction with the whole circus.
So no, I’m not mourning a very old, very privileged woman who died peacefully of natural causes. I’m definitely not mourning for ten days, and every new ridiculous bit of nonsense I see, every black profile picture, every obsequious tv or radio programme, every cap-doffing, head-bowing, knee-bending bit of performative pomp makes me angrier and even less well-inclined towards the whole lot of them.
No gods, no kings, no masters. Abolish the monarchy, and give their wealth to the people it came from, and the people of the country.
https://ko-fi.com/Post/Normal-Island-Mourns-By-Embracing-The-Cancel-Cultu-C0C2F0CVU
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Weekend: 11/12 June 2022
It was very late when I set out on Saturday, so I decided to catch a train up to New Barnet, then the 107 to Arkley, to repeat a walk I’ve done many times before – from Arkley Lane to Potters Bar via South Mimms service station. It was a beautiful evening – nicely warm but not too hot. However, as I approached Potters Bar, I had to cut it short, otherwise I’d have been getting to the pub well after 9.00 pm. I wished then that I’d set out earlier. But if I had, I’d have had to deal with the hotter, more oppressive middle of the day, which increasingly I find intolerable, and the walk – up Arkley Lane, through Saffron Green and round the side of Dyrham Park, then Wash Lane – would have been much less magical.
Beer-wise, I seem to have hit a lucky streak. I haven’t had a bad one in ages. At the Admiral Byng I had Elgood’s Cambridge Bitter. I’d not heard of it before, but on the pump clip it said it had won a prize, so I chose it, despite several other tempting ones being available. It was very good.
I promised myself that I’d start much earlier on Sunday, and while I did leave the house several hours earlier, I had to cross London by Underground (rather than a fast train), and I was delayed. At Manor House I found the station closed. I hadn’t seen anything about it on the TfL website but it turned out that selective industrial action by station staff was causing a number of stations to be shut for the day. Others I heard mentioned in announcements on trains were Russell Square and Pimlico.
With Manor House closed, I had to catch a bus to Finsbury Park, so it was nearly 4.00 pm by the time I reached West Acton.
I knew from past experience that I’d want a urination stop fairly early on, and in the midst of all the suburbia and heavily trafficked parks I figured that Hanger Hill Wood would be a good spot. It’s a very nice fragment of ancient woodland, with the busy North Circular on one side, but quiet within and hardly anyone around. However, there were no desire paths branching off the main paths, and the forest floor was fairly heavy on nettles, brambles and other, carpet-like undergrowth. I didn’t fancy getting stung or pricked, or stepping in hidden dog shit for that matter. After some searching, I was on the point of giving up, so I exited the wood at the southern end of Chatsworth Road and walked up the hill along the North Circular, but then found a little ingress point back into the wood, with a faint desire path leading to a spot that was perfect for my needs.
Continuing on my way, I felt a bit out of sorts, with some niggling pains at the back of my right leg. The pains seemed to go away when I walked fast, but kept coming back when I stood still to look at the map or take a photo.
Low on energy, I had a pleasant rest on a bench in the churchyard at Perivale, eating an Eccles cake while enjoying the sunshine amid the graves and with the sounds of people playing golf on the adjacent course.
My original plan was to walk all the way to Uxbridge. That would have been about 15 miles, but at nearly 8.00 pm I was only at about 7.5 miles. My furthest extent west was Islip Gardens, Northolt, where I was trying to reach the Dog Rose Ramble/Hillingdon Trail via a short section of footpath between houses. But the path was inaccessible due to a locked gate, so I decided then to turn back and make my way to Northolt station.
I had intended to go to the Wetherspoon’s at Uxbridge, or maybe even the General Elliott, but now decided to head to the nearest Wetherspoon’s I could think of that could be reached quickly – the Plough & Harrow in Hammersmith. Northolt is on the Central line, but there’s a permitted Oyster transfer at Hanger Lane, where I got off and walked about half a mile to Park Royal (Piccadilly line).
At the Plough & Harrow, my good luck with beer continued with Lancaster Black stout. I had one pint and a meal then left.
As it was only 10.00 pm, and I was dissatisfied with the 8.5 miles I’d done from West Acton to Northolt, I thought I’d walk some more. Had it been a couple of hours earlier, I might have walked all the way home, but that would have taken three to four hours, so I calculated that I could maybe make it as far as Trafalgar Square, then catch the 29 home. It’s a simple, straight, flat walk, more or less east – King Street, Hammersmith Broadway, Hammersmith Road, Kensington High Street, along the south side of the park to Knightsbridge, Hyde Park Corner, Piccadilly, then down Haymarket. I reached the square at 11.30. The distance was 6.23 miles (that figure included about half a mile I’d already walked from Hammersmith station to the Plough & Harrow). Total distance for the day was about 16 miles.
#walks#London#Hertfordshire#Potters Bar#South Mimms#Arkley#Acton#Park Royal#Hanger Lane#Perivale#Northolt#Hammersmith#Trafalgar Square#pubs#JD Wetherspoon#beer#London Underground#2022#11062022#12062022
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What Do The Simple Folk Do?
Continued from here, @fallesto
Deep down, Magda had hoped for, and quietly expected, the raven to idly caw back to her or, even better, just fly away. But, that simply wasn’t her luck today. Was Mother Miranda one to visit the castle often in this form? Did she sit amongst the tree limbs and watch through the windows? Was Alcina aware of this sort of spying? Not that she could likely do anything about the intrusion, other than raise a point of concern or protest. Even then, Mother Miranda would continue to do as she pleased.
You may continue… That was a change of pace, of tone. Were manners being remembered or was Miranda aware of her surroundings and giving a small bit of her authority away? This was a new situation for the seamstress as she had never known the other woman to visit the castle. If she did, it was under secrecy and purely for business reasons. Or at least Magda assumed as much. Seamstress duties never really crossed paths with the rest of the household staff unless they came to her with torn uniforms or other repairs.
When the bird landed, Magda couldn’t help but watch the transformation. The common description for such changes were ‘in the blink of an eye’, but in this case, that wasn’t far from the truth. The feathers and wings stretched, the form elongated, and then as she blinked? The change had already occurred. A different woman was before her. Not the golden masked blonde woman she was used to seeing, but instead Mother Miranda was now dark haired, shorter than her usual height, and… according to Magda’s scrutinizing gaze, rather human looking and very much not a local.
Not that it was hard to spot an outsider. The floral blouse, pastel cardigan, and comfortable looking slacks were a far cry from the full-length skirts and high-necked, collared blouses that the women of the village normally wore. This woman looked positively modern, which grabbed Magda’s attention immediately.
Normally, she’d have made a quip, asking if this new face had just arrived on the latest bus, but she knew better.
“If you are looking for opinions, I like this face, Mother Miranda. She looks sweet, loving, and protective. She suits you as an alternate if you are looking for one.” When asked about her reading material, Magda was momentarily confused. “It’s not for education. It’s for enjoyment. I am the sort who can sometimes do more than just sew. Not often, but it does happen,” she answered, scooting over in order to give her room to sit.
A breath stuck in Magda’s throat. Mother Miranda wishing to be read to was... unexpected. Now she was suddenly nervous and her lips felt dry.
“As you wish, Mother Miranda,” she said, carefully paging through the various stories. To her disappointment, many of the stories were based around gods punishing the lowly mortals. That wasn’t exactly something Magda wanted to read to the woman, but eventually, her eyes found a simple hymn to the goddess Demeter. A quick glance through and it seemed harmless enough.
“To Demeter Eleusinia. O universal mother, Deo famed, august, the source of wealth, and various named: great nurse, all-bounteous, blessed and divine, who joyest in peace; to nourish corn is thine. Goddess of seed, of fruits abundant, fair, harvest and threshing are thy constant care. Lovely delightful queen, by all desired, who dwellest in Eleusis' holy vales retired. Nurse of all mortals, who benignant mind first ploughing oxen to the yoke confined; and gave to men what nature's wants require, with plenteous means of bliss, which all desire.
In verdure flourishing, in glory bright, assessor of great Dionysos bearing light: rejoicing in the reapers' sickles, kind, whose nature lucid, earthly, pure, we find. Prolific, venerable, nurse divine, thy daughter loving, holy Koure. A chariot with Drakones yoked 'tis thine to guide, and, orgies singing, round thy throne to ride. Only-begotten, much-producing queen, all flowers are thine, and fruits of lovely green. Bright Goddess, come, with summer's rich increase swelling and pregnant, leading smiling peace; come with fair concord and imperial health, and join with these a needful store of wealth.”
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I see there is the usual “Blame Pelosi” horseshit happening this morning as excerpts from a book by a couple of Politico staffers get released. The gist seems to be, as framed by The Intercept (the double whammy of dodgy reporting there - Politico and The Intercept) that Nancy blocked impeaching Trump that very night of the insurrection, and therefore it is entirely her fault that the Republicans eventually chickened out of a guilty verdict when he was impeached. They just seem to ignore that McConnell gavelled out the Senate that night as soon as the vote certification was done, and unlike the Speaker, he didn’t bring that chamber back until after the inauguration. They also just casually ignore the fact that by nearly 4am (when the certification was done), everyone was exhausted - and that as Speaker, Nancy was probably thinking just as much about her deeply traumatised and shattered staff as anyone else. It’s very easy to look back in hindsight and say this and that should have been done, but when you have just survived a fucking insurrection and an assassination attempt, maybe you can be forgiven for thinking that the best thing for everyone is to go home for a couple of hours and see loved ones. Trump was impeached within the week afterall, and during that week the Speaker was perhaps doing more than anyone else to ensure that the country remained safe from a mad man (never ever forget, the next morning she called Milley about Trump’s access to nukes).
I just find it remarkable that we are being presented with a narrative in which the Republicans are absolved of complete blame in their failure to find Trump guilty all because Nancy Pelosi didn’t plough on with an impeachment that very night. Give me a fucking break. The fact that 2/3 of the House GOP voted to decertify the election that very night tells you that no matter how quick Nancy moved on impeachment, the rot was already there in the other side, and McConnell gavelling out the Senate for over two weeks is actually the critical factor in the timing -- but Mitch as always gets a pass.
Just realised, but of course The Intercept shite was written by Ryan Grim. It’s always one of the Ryan turds.
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