#the other kingdoms also have divisions which are ruled by other people than those we know canon hetalia characters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toothchurch71 · 2 years

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Documents For A Chinese Language Customer Or Tourist Visa

The video does an excellent job of providing you with an outline of how to get your work visa for China, though we now have more up to date information below. If the earlier visa is within the current passport there is no action required. Applicant should submit a legible, color copy of the front AND again of their driver's license or state issued ID. At this time, no other Proof of Residency will be accepted. Visas are stamped into a passport, due to this fact the original passport is required. You can apply for a Chinese driver’s license if you have a resident allow. Those eligible for an eVisa who want to stay in Taiwan for longer consecutive intervals must go to an embassy or consulate so as to acquire the proper kind visa. All different nationalities must apply for a visa at a Taiwanese diplomatic authorities office. Because of reciprocal agreements, citizens of Canada and the United Kingdom are also in a place to prolong their visa-free keep as much as a hundred and eighty days. Taiwanese visa coverage is the set of journey rules, laws, and requirements that a international citizen is subject to based on their nationality. In addition, those who are visiting Taiwan on enterprise must be interviewed by a Taiwanese consular officer, and their sponsors in Taiwan must submit a assure to the Bureau of Consular Affairs in Taiwan. As opposed to a tourist visa, this one cannot be converted into a teaching visa at all. Before you make an appointment with this embassy, be positive that your region is on this embassy's jurisdiction. If your area just isn't included, please go to the opposite Taiwan embassy areas. Green Card or your legitimate U.S. visa along with your China visa utility. First time candidates who were born in Taiwan, Hong Kong and Macau must submit a photocopy of their earlier passport. Reuters, the news and media division of Thomson Reuters, is the world’s largest multimedia news provider, reaching billions of individuals worldwide daily. Reuters provides business, financial, nationwide and worldwide information to professionals by way of desktop terminals, the world's media organizations, trade occasions and directly to consumers. Check the listing beneath to find out if an embassy visa to travel to Taiwan is required in your nationality. Any visa on arrival citizen wishing to enter Taiwan through another airport not mentioned above with out making use of for a visa in advance will be denied entry. Visa Application The order of these steps and how you full them might range at the U.S. Please consult the instructions obtainable on theembassy or consulate websitewhere you'll apply. May keep within the territory of China for a most interval of ninety days in any 180-day period. To journey internationally you want correct data, preparation, and educated expertise. Guided-Entry is the important service you should navigate this turbulent period. All of those countries have concluded mutual visa-free agreements with China, except for Brunei, Japan and Singapore, to which China presents unilateral waivers. The consular officer will decide on whether or not or not to problem the visa and on its validity, length of stay and variety of entries in mild of particular circumstances of the applicant. The relationship between Hong Kong and mainland China is far extra complicated than most individuals understand. It involves politics, economics, commerce, laws, and, above all, the people. "Hongkongers," as they're recognized, who lived for years under the influence and methods of former ruler Great Britain, are cautious about China’s intentions and indignant in regards to the mainland’s meddling in its political affairs. Sanctions could be expensive for American business, farmers, and workers. There is a tendency to miss or underestimate the direct cost of sanctions, perhaps as a end result of their prices do not present up in U.S. government price range tables. Sanctions do, however, affect the financial system by lowering revenues of U.S. firms and people. Moreover, even this cost is troublesome to measure as a end result of it needs to replicate not merely lost sales but in addition forfeited opportunities. Sanctions cost U.S. corporations billions of dollars a year in misplaced sales and returns on investment—and cost many thousands of employees their jobs. The U.S. and its allies have good cause to be suspicious of Beijing’s intentions. China has a widening Indo-Pacific army footprint that has included the stealthy militarization of disputed islands in the South China Sea. The settlement — sealed regardless of objections from the U.S., Australia, Japan and New Zealand — constitutes a rebuke of U.S. diplomatic disengagement with Oceania in current decades that has created a chance for China to spice up its affect in the region. The late night time host mocked the previous president's pull for Dr. 台胞證費用 within the state's Republican main. In August the Trump administration slapped sanctions on Hong Kong Chief Executive Carrie Lam and different high officers over what it mentioned was their position in curbing freedoms throughout a crackdown on the territory’s pro-democracy motion. Australia Visa Software Type Whether you schedule your appointmentonlineor contact ourcall middle, you'll need the payment code printed in your receipt. (This is the UID given to you at GTBank, or whenever you created your on-line profile.) You additionally need to have your passport quantity so as to schedule your visa interview. Nothing better than hearing that ping sound in your cellphone go off when you’re notified on the status and stages of your visa application course of. Yes, there are 2 several types of Australian ETA. There is a Tourist ETA and a Business ETA. The Tourist ETA applies for journey for tourism solely.Tourism consists of holidays, recreation and visiting household and/or friends. It is valid for 1 12 months for a quantity of journeys of as a lot as three months. Business functions could embrace attending a convention, negotiation or an exploratory business visit. At the moment, only some Chinese embassies have set up online appointment companies for visa applications. Therefore, it's often essential to contact the relevant consulate directly to arrange an interview. A photocopy of your airline ticket or journey itinerary issued by your journey agent. Both the date of arrival at Taiwan and date of departure from Taiwan should be clearly specified within the itinerary or ticket. South Africa has much to offer by way of vacationer sights and it's the ideal vacation spot for each nature and culture lovers. Supporting documentation (i.e. the copy of the petitioner’s passport) will be uploaded in digital format. Conveniently, eligible travellers can now get a visa on-line, from their smartphone, laptop, or different digital device. The South Africa eVisa was launched in February 2022 for travellers from 14 countries. If the request is referred for additional evaluation, the applicant can track its status by logging into the web system and choosing the ‘Check an ETA’ or ‘Check an eVisitor’ option. EVUS is not going to require the traveler to submit a photograph or fingerprints. Consular sections abroad may find a way to expedite your interview date if there may be an urgent, unforeseen state of affairs corresponding to a funeral, medical emergency, or college start date. The process to request an expedited nonimmigrant visa interview varies by location. You should refer to the instructions on the website of the Embassy or Consulate Visa Section where you'll interview, or on their online appointment scheduling site. You might want to provide proof of the necessity for an earlier appointment. All passports which might be submitted to VisaHQ for processing are lined for up to $500 towards any loss or injury. Tanzania Visa For Chinese Language Citizens Provide/ provide some other services as per requirements of the respective Governments /Diplomatic Missions. In case of any unlawful, unlawful or prohibited use, the person shall be liable for action under native legal guidelines of DRC as amended every so often. 5.6 All terms hereof are governed by laws of the respective state or province the place the Chinese Visa Application Service Facility is situated. Additionally, you have to apply for a visa if you might be traveling on a non-public plane or other non-VWP approved air or sea service. Also, if you intend to remain longer than ninety days, then you have to apply for a visa. These people can apply for visas utilizing regular appointment processes at a U.S. For those that require a visa for urgent journey to the United States, U.S. Embassies and Consulates stand able to handle applications on an expedited foundation. Meanwhile, individuals touring for business functions with the Business eVisa for Myanmar could stay as much as 70 days. VisaCentral might help you to keep away from wasting priceless time and avoid expensive delays. A VisaCentral professional will evaluation all your paperwork to verify your utility is accurate, full and ready for submission. We will contact you personally to quickly deal with any errors making certain your software is submitted correctly. Unlike a traditional visa, there is no must go to an embassy or consulate to complete the application. The utilization fee of the 72 or 144-hour TWOV scheme varies significantly depending on the port of entry. An immigration official in Kunming even mentioned that it could take "a couple of weeks" before they'll see the following passenger to utilize TWOV. Officials in these cities cited the lack of knowledge of the coverage, the restrictions on movements, the quick time frame, an absence of international flights from airports, and the shortage of providers supplied by journey businesses as the main reasons of the lack of passengers. China Boosts Its Covid At a time of strained tensions with the United States and other international locations, China is maintaining itself safe from the pandemic. At the identical time, it risks further isolating its financial system, the world’s second-largest, at a second when its major trade companions are rising from their own self-imposed slumps. So, it is a big problem for many who are stuck in India and can't return to China for their work function. Different Chinese Consulates in several international locations has the marginally totally different discover. The new rule will take impact on Monday to assist resume “people-to-people exchanges between China and different international locations in an orderly manner,” based on statements released by Chinese Embassy in Japan on Monday and the Commissioner’s Office of Chinese foreign ministry in the particular administrative area on Friday, respectively. Only these with unfavorable nucleic acid and IgM antibody check results can apply to the Chinese Embassy or Consulate for a health code with the "HS" logo or a well being declaration with the "HDC" brand. For instance, there are immediately flights from London, Tokyo, Singapore, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur, Sydney, Auckland, Frankfurt. Vancouver and Paris to Shanghai Pudong International airport every week. Issued to those who intend to go to China for commercial and commerce actions. Note that even with a PU letter, it's sometimes nonetheless not possible to obtain a visa. People who've recently visited such areas typically face stricter restrictions than other travelers. It is probably going that the same coverage will continue to be applied going forward. A proof of a unfavorable COVID-19 nucleic acid test outcome and the Health and Travel Record Declaration Form for Visa Application are no longer required. At the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, entry of foreigners with legitimate visas and residence permits to China was suspended, in addition to the visa-free transit and regional visa-free insurance policies. In February 2020, China provided automatic extensions of two months for visas and residence permits of foreigners engaged in innovative and entrepreneurial work or scientific research in China that had expired through the period the place pandemic control measures were in place. From May 2020, the PRC successively established ‘Fast Track’ programs with Korea, Germany, Singapore, Cambodia, Indonesia and a variety of other other countries to facilitate entry to China for important business and official travel. China has gradually expanded the ‘Fast Track’ Program to virtually all countries. The eligibility criteria for visa application "out of emergency humanitarian needs" will be broadened as acceptable. Tips On How To Study Overseas Academic entry requirements will range depending on the course, degree of schooling, and university you need to research at. You have to followthe student visa course of step-by-step. If you may be accompanied by your partner and kids, they will every want their very own I-20 to obtain the F-2 dependent visas and to stay in the United States during your program and for journey purposes. So even when a student has not been detained, arrested or convicted of possession or smoking marijuana, admitting to the use of marijuana to a consul is grounds for a discovering of inadmissibility. For the coed visa applicant in such a situation, a nonimmigrant waiver — which might take a quantity of months — can be required. In addition, the consul might require that the coed meet with a doctor to ensure that there is not an addiction downside. Study abroad scholarships may be found in many locations. Your first port of name would be the website of your chosen college, where you’ll find information on available scholarships. Sometimes the college may also list external scholarships, corresponding to these offered by the federal government or enterprise partners of the college. China Vacationer Visa These linked web sites have their own separate and impartial privacy statements, notices and phrases of use, which Users are beneficial to carefully review the same. VFS GLOBAL does not have any management over such third celebration web sites, and due to this fact shall haven't any liability or responsibility their personal info practices. VFS GLOBAL performs safe disposal or destruction of non-public information on the equipment or units used for storing personal information. When disposing of equipment or gadgets used for storing personal info , VFS GLOBAL takes acceptable measures corresponding to to removing or deletion of any saved data to forestall entry by unauthorized events. VFS GLOBAL has implemented measures designed to help shield personal information in its custody and management. VFS GLOBAL maintains affordable administrative, technical, physical and organizational safeguards in an effort to guard personal data in its custody and control. If the inviter just isn't a Chinese citizen, a photocopy of the inviter's passport, together with a photocopy of inviter's China residence permit is required. Holders of a D-Visa should apply for a residence allow from the immigration department of the local public security authority in the place meant to stay inside 30 days of entry to China. Holders of J1-Visa must apply for a residence allow from the immigration division of the local public security authority within the place intended to remain within 30 days of entry to China. Using visa companies is just elective for the visa processing but not a requirement. An Invitation-Letter from a Chinese relative is required to apply for a Q2 visa. Q2 visa normally is nice for 3-6 months , the duration of every stay is granted base on the consular officer’s choice, which may be ninety days, one hundred twenty days, or 180 days. Obtaining A Pupil Visa You might lengthen this time, however you could have to apply forty five days earlier than the visa expires, and immigration authorities may reject your extension. Still, you probably can depart and re-enter the United States once more during the visa validity interval. However, because nonimmigrant visas are short-term, they can't be used to stay within the United States permanently and often have an finish date or a set period of time that can be spent in the country. Individuals who're granted asylum are eligible to apply to adjust their standing to that of a lawful permanent resident. Under the Violence Against Women Act enacted in 1994, the spouses and children of United States residents or lawful everlasting residents might self-petition to acquire lawful everlasting residency. Applicants must file Form I-360 and supply the suitable charge and documentation. Interviews are usually required for visa applicants with sure limited exceptions beneath. Consular officers could require an interview of any visa applicant. Relatives of United States residents may qualify for lawful permanent residency. One of the commonest ways for non-citizens to obtain a Green Card is through a member of the family. However, that doesn't imply that every relation of a U.S. citizen or everlasting resident will qualify for a Green Card. The first two are administered by USCIS while the third one by USICE's litigation department often recognized as The Office of the Principal Legal Adviser . You can discover out more about every kind of visa from the travel.state.govwebsite, or by clicking on the Visa Types under. Our web site has aFAQsection and amore FAQwith important common info and data concerning the visa course of. Please go to all of the links obtainable since we will not reply questions which answers could be found in our webpage. A responsibility of the employer is that he/she would be the solely provider of employment for the visa holder.

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syndxlla · 3 years

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Part Fourteen of the More to Love Series

Summary: The wedding is in a week, and you’re suddenly very aware of how little time you have left to figure out what to do. You decide to take matters into your own hands, and formulate a plan. Din invites you to a night of experience, and you admit a simple truth to him.

Word Count: 11.8k words, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: SMUT (PiV, a little degradation, praise, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk), use of alcohol, drunkness, mentions of scars, sexual harassment

Author’s note: HELLOOOO! this is a fun chapter, and i just wanna let y’all know that we are in the endgame now 😭. don’t worry, i still have so many plans for both the princess and din and just the whole world that MTL is set in. thank you for all the support on this story! it never ends and i will forever be thankful for your love!

Part thirteen

You were a fool for thinking the castle would start to settle down after the ball passed. Alternatively, the planning did not lessen, but instead shifted from masquerade prep to wedding prep. The decorations were taken out, and new samples were brought in. It was made very clear to you that this was really Korkie’s wedding and not your own, because every decision and plan that was made was done without your input.

It had been a few days since Din told you everything, and he truly told you everything. You had plenty of time to reflect on it, and process everything. You worked so hard to gain perspective on it, to try and give your future family the benefit of the doubt, and to understand the full situation. However, you ultimately sided with Din, your heart aching for the situation he was placed in. It had been apparent that he would not have told you any of that if he did not hold immense trust in his heart for you, and the word Ka’rta over grew into your thoughts for all these days. The both of you had agreed to tone things down, deciding it would be a fair middle ground. Less nightly endeavors would keep you two apart, and therefore less suspicious, but it especially made the reunions of passion more sweet.

Your mother was long gone, she left three days ago, and finally you felt that you had the palace to yourself again without Hugo and various other guests breathing down your neck. Your time as Corellian Princess was in it’s endgame now as your imminent marriage to Korkie was just on the horizon, and you still had no idea how to escape from it. Most of your days, you spent making up excuses for missing afternoon tea, and trying extra bites of potential wedding cake flavors in the kitchen. Regardless of what you did, however, Din was always there with you, three paces behind. You were also given the opportunity to dismiss him more often now. The eager infatuation with him has slowly become a steady understanding of feelings, and the two of you were able to fall into a groove without the anxiety of wondering how the other felt, and how long it would be until you reunited. Tradition and duty had lightened up as well, and there were less eyes on how Din was treating you, which gave you the liberty to give him back an ounce of his life.

This was one of the best things to ever happen to Din. You would retire to your room early every night, hoping no one would wonder if you were ill, and because you were away from the eye of Kryze, you could allow Din to leave the castle early. At seven, sometimes even six, he would go home to his son. It made everyone happy, and that is why it was important to happen. This was much preferred over a midnight dismissal. You also noticed a change in Din’s presence after this change was made. He was springier, chuckling more, even sitting down when the two of you were alone. He had finally relaxed around you, and you accredit to the pure fact that he was finally getting more rest.

Those were your favorite parts of the day: when you and Din would find a quiet corner in the library, or maybe an empty sitting room, and he would just tell you about the world. He had been everywhere, you were convinced. He went into detail of cities in Coruscant, explaining how they have extravagant silk markets and countless taverns with exotic drinks. He described the heat of the desert, and how he once had to search for a merchant’s missing camel in return for clean water, a story that led to one of the scars on his back and a very rational fear of the desert at night. His favorite place to tell you about, however, was his home. The Nevarro Frontier clearly had a special place in his heart, and he spoke fondly of it’s tall mountains and tight-knit communities.

“Nothing like the Mandalore you know.” He would sigh. A kingdom that may have been fantastic on the outside, but was riddled with war and political division and heartache on the inside. “Maybe I can take you there someday.”

It was those words that sparked your imagination, and the plan began to formulate.

The real dilemma you had been in all this time was trying to figure out how to live happily with a man you truly loved, but also protect your kingdom, home and family. It was a delicate situation, one with many sighs and frustrated nights. However, after Din explained his battle with Bo to you, it’s resolution was slowly becoming more clear. There had to be a way you could win in this story. You would not give hope on that truth.

When Din mentioned taking you to his home, you realized that there was very little keeping you from up and leaving Mandalore in the night. It would be a scandal, it would probably cause an all-out war, but it was worth a try, or at least a dream.

Now, when you had afternoon conversations with Din in the library, you were studying maps of the world. You familiarize yourself with the terrain of Mandalore, how long it might take to get to the Sundari Front, and drawing out escape routes on the backs. Din assumed you had thrown yourself into cartography so you could grasp his stories and adventures fully, which wasn’t altogether false, but it went deeper than that. You tried to keep it under control, but you were slowly becoming more and more consumed by your studies: a recurring issue in your life.

Din hadn’t realized you were becoming obsessed with the geography of the world until about a week after the ball, when you fell asleep by candlelight at a table in the library, your face smushed into the parchment of a map depicting some old blueprints that he had paid no attention to, and your hair falling over your eyes. It was almost dawn, and he had come back from his time with his son already, distressed to see no one had the courtesy to wake you up and take you to your room. He didn’t really expect much else from Mandalore, however.

Din blows out the candle, and gently picks you up, being extra careful not to wake you, and carries you bridal-style out of the library and to your suite. It was these moments that Din looked forward to the most. When he did not have to put on a face, when he did not have a million rules to follow. When your sleepy head rests into his chest, and he can look upon your face with his own eyes, no helmet to obstruct it.

As Din looked upon your resting face, there was much he realized. He first noticed that scar on your body that he hadn’t seen before, and swiped his thumb over it. He also studied the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, how you were perfectly still, and yet completely full of life and beauty and pure goodness as you slept. Din deeply admired how much you cared, how much you cared about everything. The wellbeing of the staff, the customs of Mandalore, him. You threw yourself into your passions, and you had a deep love for the hobbies and aspects of your life that no one else he knew possessed. You were a dedicated person, and he found both attraction and respect ino that.

Din also realized a fundamental truth at the very moment the sky began to lighten up, your cracked balcony doors letting the curtains blow into the suite dreamily. Din felt at peace. It had been so long since he felt peaceful. Too long. He felt the same type of peace here with you that he would normally feel sleeping under the stars with his son nestled to his side. Or the same feeling of peace that he felt when he held his son for the first time. It was a rare feeling, and it was pure. It was so rare that it was only saved for the people most important to him in his life.

You woke up a few hours later, changed out of the pale yellow gown you fell asleep in. Din had not only put you in your nightgown, but had taken the time to pull your hair so it was out of your face. He was more thoughtful than you could have ever imagined. The Knight sits with his back against your door, helmet tilted up at the ceiling, and you wonder if he slept, and why he was not in bed with you. You had invited him several times, and wished he would fulfill the request.

As soon as you sit up in bed, his head lifts, and he stands at attention.

You yawn before speaking, “Were you resting?” You ask, stretching your arms over your head. He shakes his head in response. “What were you doing?” You ask, your arms coming down to rest on your mattress.

“Listening?”

“For?”

He shrugs, “The birds at first, but then it was footsteps. I didn’t want to get caught waiting for you to wake up.” He sighs.

“Well… I wish you would have listened in bed with me.” You glance over at the empty spot next to you. He doesn’t respond, and you are reminded that in many ways, he is still the silent knight you first met from three weeks ago. Din walks over to you, and you smile as he does.

“Did I wake you last night?” He asks, and you were honestly confused about what he was asking. He sensed the confusion, he was always so good at reading you, “When I carried you from the library here?”

“What?” And then you remembered, your eyes blowing wide. “Shit!” You jump out of bed. “What time is it?”

“Uh…”

“Is the rest of the staff awake?” You let your hair down, and slide on the pink satin slippers on the floor of your bed.

“What?”

“Did you bring the map I was studying?” You look up at his emotionless helmet.

“…No?” To be truthful, he didn’t even take the time to glance at the map you studied, he was far too distracted by you.

“Fuck.” You muttered. Din liked it when you swore.

You thought of nothing, and hurried to the door of your suite, swinging it open and marching down the corridor. Din follows you in confusion, trying to catch up to you and bring you back to your room. You’re weary, and just woke up, so you pay no attention to Soniee who passes you in the hallway with your tea, looking at you in confusion, or the maids who were trying to sweep the floor that you scurried over. Din tried to halt you, but was never one to speak unless spoken to, especially not in public and in the presence of others, and felt unable to stop you and ask what was going on. Everyone turned heads to see the future consort in a panic, and were left with questions. Most of them shrugged and ignored it, a few began the rumors.

You practically ran down the stairs, feeling a little out of breath when you finally made it to the doors of the library. The fact that they were closed was still a good sign, and you swing the heavy door open, entering the library with haste. Your heart drops when you see the last person you wanted to this morning: Prince Korkie.

He turns to see the commotion, his eyes are shocked to not only see you out and about this early in the day, but also in your nightgown. He sputters on a ‘Good Morning’, and you don’t even hear it because you’re too panicked to see that he has the map you were reading last night in his hands. You swear in your mind, and your heart falls out of your feet. Din comes hurrying behind you.

“Princess? What is the meaning of this?” He asks, an eyebrow raised, trying to sound chipper as he greeted his fiance. You swallow thickly. Din bows for the prince, and then bends down to whisper in your ear so Korkie can’t hear it.

“Highness, please come back to your room.”

“What? Why?” You say a little too loudly, and before he can reply, the door is opening again with General Vizsla and a group of knights entering.

“Y-your gown.” Din whispers, and you look down to see that it is very sheer, far too sheer to be in the presence of your fiance… and half of the Mandalorian government. You want to shrink from the embarrassment, and notice that Korkie’s eyes are fixed on your chest. What a creep. You fold your arms over your breasts.

“What map do you have there, Prince Korkie?” You ask, trying not to make it seem too obvious that you were clearly in distress, but shaken up by your exposure and the perverted ness of the prince before you. Din wondered what in the world could be so important about that specific map. He stands behind you to cover your back side.

“What is this commotion?” Vizsla asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Nothing, General.” Korkie clears his throat. He turns to you, “Vizsla and I were just about to discuss the plans we have for… the southern border of Corellia.” Korkie awkwardly smiles. You raise an eyebrow.

“Plans?” You ask.

“Yes, you will hear in time.” Vizsla’s obnoxiously nasally voice busts in again. He was always one to unwelcomely invite himself.

You try not to roll your eyes, “And the map, Your Highness?” You repeat yourself, trying not to sound too demanding. You were still a princess, after all.

Korkie nervously chuckles, eyeing the multiple men in the room and shocked by your ambition. He takes a step forward, rolling the map up in his hands as he advances in you and Din’s direction. Din placed a discreet hand on the small of your back, hoping to reassure you. His touch was barely noticeable, but it was enough.

“Princess,” He says, sort of hushed. “You can call me Korkie in front of other people.” It was clear that he had an expectation to fill, and it would be bad on him if his fiance was still addressing him with a title a week before the wedding.

You scoff, “No, I don’t think I will.”

You hold your hand out for the map in defiance, but the prince doesn't hand it to you. He has a dark look in his eyes, one you have never seen before. Din tries to pull back on your bicep, trying to alleviate the situation, but you stay steadfast. “I will take that map now, Your highness.” You bite through the title, wanting it to cut. Korkie lifts his chin with an authoritative look, putting the rolled up map behind his back.

“Get this woman out of my meeting!” He calls out, and turns away. Your face drops, thinking you had the upper-hand, but realize that is taken away from you as two muscular guards pick you up, pulling you away from Din, and walking you out of the library. Korkie always does this, he’s madly in love with you until he’s not. It makes you remember that all of this is probably a ruse for power. Your heart and spirit drop, and you feel nothing but pure disrespect and rage. Din quickly follows. You try to writhe out of the guard’s grasp, not wanting to give up without a fight, but failing miserably. They were both very strong, probably because they had to compensate for how scrawny the Prince is.

“I can take it from here, gentlemen.” Din says, loudly, louder than you usually hear him speak. “I said I can take her!” Din yells when they don’t respond. Then, you hear the indefinite sound of a punch. These guards were still fully armored, but there was no withstanding the strength and brute force of your Knight when you were endangered. The guard Din had punched lets you go as a reaction, and you use it as an opportunity to take your now free hand and twist the wrist of the other guard off of you. All of the self-defense Din had previously taught you paid off in that moment as he yelled out in pain, not expecting your strength or skill. You were taught by the best, after all.

Now that you were free from the clutches of Korkie’s personal guards, you felt Din grab your hand and pull you. The two of you ran through the corridors, down another flight of stairs, and passed the throne room, making sure not to look back in the direction of the library. You ran parallel to the ballroom, and then finally down a final flight of stairs to the foyer of the castle. Din tugs you into a narrow hall, and down a spiral staircase. It was the way to the staff quarters, you remember from the day you went to the ocean. You were shocked and confused about what happened, and truthfully kind of exhausted. You were relieved when Din finally slowed down, and pulled you into Koska’s sister’s room. It was empty, thank the Stars.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them!” Din says and it startles you, but you do it. He pulls his helmet off with haste, tossing it to the floor with a clang. Din places both of his strong hands on either side of your face, pulling you towards him and then kisses you with so much force and hunger that you stumble back in surprise, your eyes cracking open for just a split second. You didn’t see much, because his face was so squished into yours. All you caught a glimpse of was his eyelashes for a millisecond, but that was enough. Din is pushing you against the wall, pinning you to it, and kissing you so hard that you have to pull away to get some air. “I don’t think I have ever been as attracted to you as I was when you stood up to that prick.” He chuckles, and you hum back. Din takes a deep breath before speaking up again, “What was on that map?” He asks, out of breath, too.

You sigh, sort of embarrassed, eyes still shut tightly, “It was the tunnel plans of the castle.”

“What, you mean the blueprints?”

“Yes.” Your eyes stay closed.

“The blueprints that are at least three-hundred years old?”

“Mhm.”

“How did you get your royal hands on those?” Din asks, baffled.

“It doesn’t matter! What does matter is that I made notes on the back of the map!” You blurt, feeling shame, “I wrote the estimated times it would take and which halls to take from my room!” You groan, so badly wanting to open your eyes. You remembered what you said to yourself all those weeks ago, however, reminding yourself that it should be his choice to show you his face and no one else’s. You sigh, “The Prince isn’t stupid! I’m sure he thinks I’m plotting something now!” You hope you don’t sound too panicked, but if you were being honest, you were. Din sighs, clearly frustrated, although you weren’t sure if he was sexually or emotionally… or a little bit of both. “I’m sorry.” You sigh, your hands coming up and searching for his shoulders. “I should not have been so careless.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You weren’t expecting him to agree with you, he usually doesn’t. He takes a calming breath, “…Are you plotting something?” He asks, his eyes moving between your closed eyelids in search of a non-verbal answer that he’ll never receive.

You don’t want to answer, but know you don’t have a choice. “Yes.” You feel guilty after saying it, although you aren’t sure why. Din exhales deeply this time. “But listen! We could run! I don’t have to stay here! We can fix this! We can get into Coruscant and they’ll never come looking for us, and then we can go to Nevarro, go to your home! We’ll take your son-“

“Rue.”

“What?”

“My son, his name is Rue.”

Rue. It was simple, to the point, just like Din’s. You liked it. “We’ll take Rue! Please, Din, we need to! It will be the only way we will ever be happy!” Your thumbs rub into the thick skin of his neck. You didn’t mean to vomit so much information on him at once, but he didn’t really give you an option.

He exhales deeply, and you know he’s processing everything you just told him. “We can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because!” He yells and it scares you. You drop your hands, your heart rate rising. A lump grows in your throat and you silently curse your emotions for betraying you. You swallow back a tear. He walks away from you and you hear the helmet pick up from off the floor. He puts it back on his head, and you know from practice and instinct when to open your eyes. When you do, he’s sitting on the chest at the end of the bed, his head dropped and hands pressed to the edge of the wood by his sides. You frown, and walk over to him. Din pushes his head into your abdomen, and you hold him there, just existing in not-so-comfortable silence. It’s tense, and not the type of tension that you usually like to experience with I’m.

He’s surprisingly the one to speak up, however. “We can’t… because Bo will hunt me and kill me and Rue and you… she’ll kill everything I love.” His voice cracks at the same time your heart does. Did he actually…

“Not to mention the war between our kingdoms it will start. Corellia can’t support itself in a war. We both know that.” Din sighs, maybe he was telling himself this just as much as he was telling you.

You sigh. He was right and you knew it, but it didn’t keep you from wanting to run away with him any less. “Din…” He looks up at you. “We have to get that map from Korkie.” You say, more stern but still comforting this time. His head tilts in question. You sigh, feeling guilty. “I wrote something else on it.” You look away from him, your eyes trailing. His hand reaches up to grab your chin, pulling your head to look right at him. Your eyebrows furrow. “Directions to your home.” The atmosphere in the room changes. You can feel it. “I know I shouldn’t have, I know it puts Rue in danger, but it gives us all the more reason to get that map back from Korkie as soon as possible.” His hand drops from your chin. You felt terrible.

“Okay, okay. We can check the library again and… if it’s not there we’ll go confront him. We’ll get it tonight.” He nods.

“Are you sure? What if he reads it?” You were surprised how lax he was, but something told you that he was controlling himself from his true emotions.

“As far as I’m concerned, the Prince has no reason to cause me or my family any harm.” He nods.

“Not yet.”

—

You swallow, your face inches away from the door of the Prince’s bedroom. Din was around the corner of the corridor, both of you knew this was something you would have to do on your own, without his support. You had never been here before, and after ample search in the library for the map all afternoon, there was no other option. It was late, but not inappropriately late. You wore that same dress you wore weeks ago, the soft blue one that was off the shoulder one that adorned your figure elegantly. It was one of the most sophisticated gowns in your closet. More mature than most of the flowy princess ballgowns. It was a diplomatic but still ethereal fashion choice, which you desperately needed after a humiliating encounter this morning. The scar on your shoulder from the endeavor in Keldabe had mostly healed, and only had a pale pink to it. You looked back at Din, who was peering around the corner, for some reassurance. He nodded, and you took a deep breath. Two knocks would be enough. The door swings open, and you are suddenly very aware that you would have to brave this encounter without the support of your trusted Knight. Korkie is who answers the door, and he looks mildly unamused to see you.

“Princess?” He tilts his head.

“Evening, I hope it is not too late?” You suggest, keeping your voice as monotone and unwelcoming as possible. You wanted him to know that you were here for a serious matter.. You noticed he was covering the door with his body, perhaps he was hiding something from you too.

“For my fiance? Never.” You hated being called that, but if it was what it took for him to invite you into the room,you could deal with it. Korkie’s room was large, it was far more spacious than yours. It had a billowing fireplace and sitting area, the ceilings twice the height of your suite’s, and a private library pushed into the northeast corner. You familiarize yourself with your surroundings, and the heir closes the door behind you. You silently scanned the room for the map, you would have to snatch it up without it being suspicious, and you could not explicitly ask for it again. “What do I owe this honor?” He says from behind, charming as usual, although his words did seem a bit slurred. You see that an opened book sat on the seat of a chair in the sitting area. He must have been reading before you interrupted him. You turn around, and lift your chin, trying to look and sound as put together and unsuspecting as possible.

You clear your throat, “I wanted to apologize for this morning.” You nod. It wasn’t true, but you had rehearsed with Din several times the best way to stall time as you looked for the map, and this was the best way of going about. “It was inappropriate behavior, especially in front of the General.” You disagreed with your own words, and felt bad lying, but it came so naturally when done to the Prince.

Korkie sighs, and crosses over the room, looking up at a portrait above the fireplace. Your eyes still searched for your map, but had no clue where it might be. This was your first time here, after all. “Worry not, Highness.” Korkie downs a bit of brandy that was sitting for him. You didn’t like him when he was drunk.

“You’re sure?” You figured that would have made conversation more natural, but he clearly was not in the mood for propriety. He pours another drink, and even pours one for you, offering it. You shake your head and mutter a ‘no thank you’, not really wanting to get drunk tonight. Din wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk. You admired that he respected you that much, but it also deprived you of the one thing worth all the pomp and circumstance. Korkie shrugs and drinks both, and you’re frankly appalled by this conduct.

“Indeed.” He hiccups. “Everyone loves a little show.” He chuckles, and you frown. Was that all your humiliation was to him? A show? “Now, Princess,” He takes a step towards you, and you feel so unprotected. Din would have stepped in by now, you knew that. You didn’t have the same sense of security you usually had when he wasn’t at your side. “Why did you really come here?” He asks, running his hand through his hair.

“Excuse me?” You nervously laugh. How did he figure any of this out? You take steps back that mirror his, trying to keep the same amount of distance between him and you but struggling to when you hit the post of his bed, your back flush against it. Your hands wrap around the wood working, and you look up at him nervously. You felt the same as you didn’t when you were cornered and harassed in the slum of Keldabe. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat, trying to solve something, anything. Where could that cursed map be?

“Don’t-“ He says through gritted teeth, he catches himself from lashing out, and collects his composure before speaking again. “Don’t assume I am blind.”

“I would never-“

“Liar!” He spits out and you flinch back. He laughs a few times, it’s that evil, frustrated laugh. It was the type of laugh that people do when they’re trying to calm themselves down, but in turn they simply seem more angry. You were genuinely scared, unsure of what to do in this situation. “What were the directions you wrote on the back of the map?” He asks, and you furrow your brows.

“I don’t know what you mean?” This was partially true. How did he not understand the very neat and clear directions on the back of the blueprints to the secret passages? And in all curiosity, why did he care?

Korkie grunts again. “You are foolish.” He was dangerously close to you, and you wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible. You wanted Din to come protect you, you needed him to. “Are you forgetting who you belong to?” His hand sets on your hip, and you flinch again.

“I belong to no one.” You defy.

“You belong to me.” He grits his jaw again. You closed your eyes out of instinct due to the sheer anger and tension in his tone. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you wished you had the authority to slap him. He laughs his chuckle of malice again, and then before you can blink, he leans in for a kiss. How could he? How could he take advantage of your vulnerable state like this? Your blood boiled, and just in time, you dodge his lips. You swoop under his arm, away from the bedpost and back to the security of a full room you can avoid him in. He looks at you, clearly appalled. You were dizzy, probably from adrenaline. You wished this was surprising, but it was the exact thing you expected The Prince to do. This is when you noticed the map was rolled up and on the floor beside the fireplace. The new perspective of the room is what made you see it. Had he intended to burn it?

“You know,” You say as you take a step towards the map, “You should have another drink.” You offer. “You’re clearly tense,” You stepped between each phrase, “And it would be better for everyone.” Somewhere deep down you wanted to believe that Korkie was only acting this way because he was drunk. But you knew it wasn’t true. You realized that everything inside of you was looking for a redeemable quality in him, a reason to stay perhaps. You wanted to believe he was worth staying for, but you knew that he wasn’t, not when everything you’ve ever wanted was just outside the door.

Before Korkie can take another step towards you, you’re bolting towards the map, snatching it up in your hands and then running towards the door. The adrenaline shoots through your veins, and it only grows when you hear him growl again and his heavy footsteps run after you. You have to physically hold yourself back from squealing in stress, your hand slapping over your mouth. You rip the door open, and try slamming it behind you, but Korkie’s arm is caught in the door, and you smash it. He cries out, and the commotion makes Din run down the hall towards you to check what was going on. Korkie was able to get a hand on the collar of your dress, and he tries to pull you back in, but your strength is enough to get away. You ran to Din, who looked concerned, you could tell by his stance alone. He was tense and his hands balled in fists at his side.

Korkie pulls open the door, holding his arm to his chest, and you look back, your heart racing. You are so relieved when you make it to Din, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers into his and pulling him down the hall in the same fashion he did early that day. Several guards who heard the heir’s yell were running in all directions, but none of them paid any attention to you, thank the stars.

You think you are crying, but you aren’t sure. You felt raw fear being alone with the Prince. You never wanted to be alone with him again, never.

You keep running nonsense in the castle, not really sure where you’re going but wanting to be anywhere other than there. Din is the one to stop you after the mindless escape, pulling you into a branching hallway and against an unsightly window. He grabs both of your arms, and pulls you flush against his chest. He holds you there for a long time, and you both get a chance to catch your breath. You cry into the beskar chestplate, and feel rather foolish for reacting as such. Din was silent, and just held you, his strong arms wrapped around you as tightly as they could be.

“What did he do to you?” He asks, and you sigh out pathetically. Din repeats his question, still calm and gentle, but more urgent.

“I-I was so scared.” You stutter. Din somehow squeezes you tighter after you say this. After you collect yourself a little more, you can speak again, “he was drink-“

“Did he… touch you?”

You weren’t sure why you felt like you were in trouble, but aggressively reminded yourself that Din would never be upset with you, at least not for something like this. “Yes… But not very much, he just touched my hip and leaned in to kiss me.”

“Did he?”

“No!” You say almost defensively, “I got away just in time.” You pull away and look up at him with teary eyes. His hand comes up, and he pulls the glove off. His bar hand caresses your flushed face, swiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry-“

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” You breathe out shakily. “For crying I guess? For letting the map get away? For letting him touch me-“ You try to look away but his fingers catch your chin again, pulling your gaze back onto his helmet.

“Stop that. It’s not your fault. He is disgusting for doing that.” Din nods, and you swallow a sob. “Do you understand?” He asks, and you slowly nod once. “And promise me, that you’ll never ever blame yourself for anything like that ever again, okay?” You nod again. “Promise me!” He wasn’t angry or forceful, just steadfast with his words. He meant what he was saying.

“I promise.” You mutter. After you reply you hear his exhale in his armor. He pulls you against his chest again, and you can feel it move with each breath. You wished you could hear his heartbeat again like you could when you wake up next to him. You’re able to finally relax, and his embrace was the most calming thing you had ever experienced.

“I was worried sick about you.” He says, far more soft spoken than his remarks before. You didn’t verbally reply, but he was able to read how you felt. “I don’t like you being alone with him.”

“Me neither.” You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the final few tears fall out of your lashes. “All the more reason to leave.” He tenses after you say it, and his arms loosen a bit around your shoulders.

“You really want to?” He asks, you nod against his chest. “You know the possible consequences? This could mean the destruction of Corellia.”

“I know. That’s why it’s so hard. I don’t know what to do. I know what I want, and that is to leave here with you, but I don’t want my own selfishness to risk the lives of thousands who I vowed to protect.” You pull your head away from his chest.

“You… really want to live a life with me?” He asks, almost oblivious to your prior remark. You nod nod, or even say yes, but you just look up at him in all seriousness, hoping it would be enough.

It was.

“You don’t even know what I look like.” His arms drop. Did he think you a fool for that?

“We…” You debate your words, “We can change that.” You close your eyes, hoping that it would mean something to him, and maybe it did, but just as always, he didn’t show it. He just takes his cursed, gloveless hand and tilts your chin up to see him.

“In time we will, but only when it is right.” He nods.

It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but it was enough. It was more than anything he had ever given you before.

“Come on,” Din says gently, “There’s something I want to show you.” He beckons with his head down the hall, and you follow, interlocking your fingers with his again, the map in your other hand. You weren’t really sure how he was able to be so calm and reassuring, especially without showing an ounce of emotion through all of it, but it was a Godsend. You weren’t sure if Din loved you, at least not in the same way you loved him, but you were sure that he cared about you, and he wanted you to be safe and happy. And that was all you needed, for now.

“Had he read the map?” Din asks as you walk down a flight of stairs, descending the various levels of the palace and undoubtedly heading for the staff quarters again.

“I believe so.” You sigh, “Although he seemed confused about it. I think he was a little too drunk to fully comprehend, or he was giving me the benefit of the doubt.” You shrug.

“Well, at least we have it now, right?” Din asks, his head slightly turning back to look at you as he says it, and you give a nervous but relieved smile in response. The two of you loop through halls, and you’re very aware of how much the castle is winding down. Staff have retired for the night, doors were closed, even the usual laughter coming from parlors or the ballroom was silenced. Was it really that late? You didn’t really have much of a perception of time anymore after everything that had just happened.

The one part of the castle that was full of life, however, was the staff quarters. As you got closer, you could hear the usual laughter, and warm, welcoming light poured from the low corridor. Music played, it was loud, and your eyes searched for the spectacle that was just awaiting you.

“You said you wanted to get to know the staff better…”

“I did?” You ask.

“A few nights ago, you were really tired, you might not remember.” He shrugged. You didn’t really care whether or not you really said those things, what stuck out to you, however was that Din remembered that. He was observant enough to remember specific phrases you said, and not any phrases, the ones that were sleepy and probably full of nonsense. You would lie if you said you didn’t gush over that a little.

Din takes you into the staff common room, and it’s all clear. The warm smells, the enticing light, the infectious laughter, it all came from the whole castle staff crammed into this one room. There was food, and everyone laughed and danced to the music that a handful of staff members played. Their instruments were humble, probably retired from the royal orchestra years ago, but you could tell there were fond memories and stories linked with every single one. It was hot, and there were a lot of people crammed into the room. The doors were wide open, and the tables were pushed back against the walls so that the floor could be opened to a large and intricate group dance. It was nothing like the pompous dances that the nobility did at the ball, however. This dance was filled with joy, and mistakes were not only welcomed, but celebrated. Expression was the center of the party, and all types of people were involved. Children who were up far past their bedtime joined in the festivities, dancing and laughing and chasing one another, elderly staff sat at the tables, clapping along to the folk music, and the servants who usually give you sour tea and hot bread had their shoes off, jumping on the stone floor of the common area. Some of the knights and guards had their helmets on like Din usually did, and others did not. You realized it really probably boiled down to personal preference, or duty.

You smiled at the spectacle, and it gave you a deep and undeniable sense of community and love. You quickly learned that the livelihood of the castle did not rest in the parties and rules that an uptight Queen set in place, but the very people who made the castle work smoothly.

The laughter and joy was contagious, and you couldn’t stop yourself from joining the fun. You jump into the dance, not sure of the steps, but picking up your ridiculous skirt and starting anyways. You hoped it wasn’t obvious that you had been crying a half hour before, but no one paid any attention if it was. The women in the circle linked their arms with yours, and you spun in a circle. The one to your right couldn’t have been older than fifteen, and she yelled over the noise how to do the footsteps. You couldn’t really hear her, but looked down at her feet and tried to mimic it. You had the cheesiest smile on your face, and the room spun as you danced. Din crosses over to a wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms, watching you.

After that dance finished, another song started, and the moves were rather different. However, a girl pulled you out of the circle, and tugged on your dress. “It’s too big!” She shouts over the music, “You’ll never make it through the next song!” You nod and then walk over to a table. You stand on top of the table after a few jumbled ‘excuse me’s’. You were sure everyone recognized you, but they didn’t treat you differently for one moment. It was… refreshing. You kicked your shoes off, and several people turned to look at you, some cheered, others laughed. You then bite your bottom lip and pull the strings of the corset you wore, loosening it enough to slip out of your crinoline and ruffled-slip, leaving you in nothing but your undergarment petticoat and the top layer of the gown you were wearing. There was laughter, and you didn’t hear or see Din chuckle. You swayed your hips, and after a playful “huzzah!” from the crowd, a few knights helped you off the table. You immediately return to the dance circle, and you’re able to move much easier. You’re thrown back into the stimulating dance. The woman was right, this was much more physical, jumping and kicking was done and it was far more exciting than any of the proper waltzes you had spent your life dedicating time to.

You step out after two more songs, trying to catch your breath and wiping the sweat off your brow. There was alcohol, just hooch, but a bearded man gave you a big mug and you happily chugged it down. Din was impressed with your ability to consume so much so quickly. The men all cheered and hollered as you downed the drink, also impressed with the skill. You didn’t know you could do it, either.

A game of cards is being played, and you’re roped into that, too. You bet some money (money you didn’t have) and helped a tired, old man who usually worked in the stables play, after a few tough rounds, and struggling to learn the rules as you played, you won the pot for the old man. Three other much younger boys who usually worked at the front gate looked in shock as you pulled the money towards you and the man. He laughed and thanked you for your help.

Some little girls examined your crinoline and corset, a few older women all pinched your cheeks, and a fat man gave you a huge helping of mashed potatoes and greens. You got to overeat shamelessly, and it felt so rewarding after weeks of eating like a bird in fear of being judged by your in-laws. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world to be treated normally. You caught a glimpse of Soniee, who braided a boy’s hair. You even noticed that Koska was there, the center of one of the dance circles, swaying her skirt to the beat with another girl, the two dancing together in a vibrant duet of culture and community. Your feet only began to hurt when you were pulled to dance again, and your cheeks ached from smiling so wide. It was the most alive and accepted you had ever felt in Mandalore.

At one point, you found yourself just a few feet away from Din in the dance. You hold your hands out for him, beckoning him to join. “Dance with me!” You shout out. Before you get an answer, however, you're pulled back into the center of the group. It isn’t for a few more cycles and bars of the song that you’re back out by him. “Please?” You try to be as enticing as possible. He shakes his head, his hand coming up to decline. You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t dance!” He yells back. You roll your eyes and step out of the group momentarily. You grab both of his hands, your face with the cheesiest smile ever, and pull him onto the floor. He tries to fight back, but ultimately loses.

“Yes you do!” You reply, yelling as loud as possible so he might be able to hear you. “You proved it to me last week!” You say and in perfect time, your arms go up together with the beat of the song. He hadn’t done this dance before, but has watched it enough times to know what’s going on, although he looked rather awkward and foolish doing so. You grab his hand, your hips turning left to right in time, and you look down at your bodies, trying to show him as best as you can.

“I have no idea what’s going on!” Din yells at one point, the two of you now in the heart of the party.

“Me neither!” You laugh, “That’s what’s so wonderful about it!” Then came the part of the dance to clap your hands, the two of you clapping up by your face, and mirroring one another. “Now you’re getting the hang of it!” You nod. He rolls his eyes, and is thankful you can’t see it. It would be horrible for his reputation if anyone knew that he was having even a little fun, especially because it was with you. Din doesn’t usually come to these parties. They happen most Saturday nights, but he runs home to his son. Tonight, however, it was important to him that you got to experience it, especially after everything that happened earlier today.

You both start getting the hang of it, and Din mentally thanks his helmet for hiding the smile on his face. Your feet grapevine, and then you both jump. Everyone hoots and hollers, it’s part of the dance. Suddenly, the both of you are in the middle of the dance circle in the same way that Koska was with her partner a few songs ago, and you’re leading the spiral. You can’t wipe the darkish smile off your face and genuinely can’t believe you got him out here.

“Atta boy, Djarin!” Koska yells from a table, standing up and toasting a Ming of hooch. The music picked up in preparation for the big finish. Din and you spun around one another, your bodies coming flush until your palms press flat, your faces only inches apart. You always thought playing off of one another in a dance was important for the emotion during a waltz, but a fancy three-step had nothing on the emotion and passion put into a dance such as this. Somehow, you could still play off of him, and the performance was one of shared respect and assurance. Despite never having seen his face, you got the Knight, you understood him in a way no one ever did. The song ends, the two of you real close to one another, and out of breath. The entire room roared in joy as they cheered for the both of you, and you looked up at the visor of his helmet.

“I want to kiss you!” He yells, and although his request is very clear, no one can hear it over the volume of the room.

“Then kiss me!” You reply. You didn’t give a damn if every servant of the Mandalorian royal family saw it. He laughs, you feel it, and then he’s pulling his helmet up.

He just reveals his lips, but you look upon them with no shame, admiring the way his Cupid’s bow dipped, and the scruff on his jawline. You smiled wide, and he smiled back. You feel honored to share this moment with him. Everyone around you was so loud, and they were cheering for both you and Din. You couldn’t believe how many of them knew his name as they called it out in encouragement.

Din’s free hand wraps around your waist, and pulls it in tight to him forcefully, you blush at the gesture, and the crowd “ooh’s” flirtily at it. Din Djarin then kisses you. He pulls your body into his soft lips and you sigh into it and it;s too quiet for him to hear but as soon as your lips meet, the crowd of staff disappears. Their cheers blur together, and fade out. Your lips move together passionately, and you do so with no shame. He groans against you, and you can feel it more than you can hear it, and it’s all you ever wanted.

For weeks now you just wanted to share your love with him publicly, and now that you have, you’re aware of how personal your love with him really is.

The crowd fades back in, everyone laughing in support and amusement. Your lips softly party and you grin from ear to ear. Din does too, shameless for once. His teeth are nice and straight. Oh God, you loved his smile.

Oh Stars, you loved him.

“Din!” You yell out. “I love you!” It was time to say it, because it was true. You meant it and as you say it, giggle.

“What?”

“I love you!” It’s so loud that you’re even sure if he can’t hear it, you can barely hear it yourself. But, in classic Din Djarin fashion, he doesn’t answer. He was never good with words, and was much better at showing you what was on his mind. He kisses you again, just as passionately, but this time it’s a series of short, quick pecks on your lips that get progressively more sloppy. He smiles into each kiss and you feel those magic butterflies again.

The rest of the night is a dreamy blur, Din dances the whole time with you, the music eventually slows, you notice that there are less and less kids in the common room. It winds down, and your feet ache in the best way. An ache that would be associated with happy memories. It was long past midnight when you decided to stop dancing, and a lone fiddler is all who was left in the band, playing a ballad to end the night. There was still soft laughter, and a few stragglers who slowly danced to the music. Din was one of the few who were still playing cards, one of his fellow knights challenging him to a game. Din was always up for a challenge, and both he and the man he played against looked deep in thought. You realized you were finally able to read him through all that beskar, and he was far more reactive than you ever would have known if you weren’t looking for it. Your cheek sits in your palm, and your eyes are heavy, but you watch him fondly from across the room. Koska sits next to you, handing you a cup of water.

“You had fun.” She hums, taking a sip out of her own cup.

You nervously laugh in response, she wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t realize how connected you all were.” You say with a sigh before taking a sip of the water and being so relieved to finally get some hydration after all of the energy you exerted.

“Yeah…” Koska was in her typical undisturbed mood, relaxed and observant. “These are the people of Mandalore.” She sighs, “They are what we really represent. We aren’t all about war and decoration, there’s so much more to us that the world doesn’t see.” You were touched by that remark, because you had seen it too. “The truth that’s hard for all of us to believe is that the rest of the world only respects us to stay on our good side.” Her voice drops a little. She looks at you, her eyes heavy as always. You aren’t sure how to respond, because it was true. Koska takes another sip before changing the subject, “I’ve never seen him dance before.” She nods towards Din. “At least not like that.” She laughs into her cup.

You smile, “I didn’t think he had it in him.” You tease.

“He wouldn’t have if you weren’t there.” Koska shrugs. “He’s like a whole different person around you. It’s refreshing.”

“He told me about everything that happened.” You reply. “With him and Bo.”

“He did? I don’t think he’s really talked to anyone about it.”

“He just told me last week, after the ball.” You nod. “I had no idea… but it all makes sense in the end.” You finish off the last of your water as his card game finishes, the few people watching cheering as Din lays down his cards and wins. The other knight, whose face was also covered by a heavy, beskar helmet slammed his fist down on the table in defeat. Din took the money that was on the bet.

“He’s better because of you.” Koska says, smiling as he wins. “I’ve had to look out for him in a way for a long time, he’s one of my oldest friends.” She speaks of him fondly. “But I feel like he doesn’t need me as much anymore, now that you can keep an eye out for him.” Koska turns to look a t you, but you don’t notice it. “You love him?”

“I do.” You nod. “Well… I think I do.” You sigh, “I don’t really know what love is I suppose, but I believe how I feel about him is the closest thing to it.” You shrug. “And I’m totally fucked because of it.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Koska explains, “I’ve never been in love either.”

“Really?” You ask, mildly shocked in all honesty. Koska nods. “There’s no one special in your life?”

“Well, there’s one girl.” Koska begins, “But my feelings towards her are more of an… obligation, I suppose.”

“I used to worry that’s how Din felt about me.” You admit.

“Oh trust me,” She chuckles once, “It isn’t like that for him at all.” She hums and you sigh in response, you sit in comfortable silence for a moment after that before Koska speaks up again, “What are you gonna do?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” You admit, turning to look at her, “But now that the majority of the castle staff has seen us kiss, I need to think of something.”

“That was pretty stupid, by the way.” Koska rolls her eyes.

You chuckle, “I suppose it was…” Din starts walking back to you, “But I can’t seem to care. I’m sick of hiding from everyone.” Din makes it to the two of you, and you smile as you look up at him.

“It’s not much,” He holds out the money before pocketing it, “But Rue will be happy.” He laughs and holds a hand out for you to take. “How drunk is she?” He asks Koska.

“She’s fine-“

“I only had one drink!” You roll your eyes, knowing that your night with Din will end very quickly if you were drunk. You take his hand and he hoists you up with him.

“Hm… that’s what you said the other night.”

“She’s okay, maybe a little tipsy but nothing keeping her from holding a perfectly normal conversation.” Koska says to Din, knowing full well why he even asked, a smirk plasters on her face.

“Come on.” Din hums, and pulls you down one of the various halls that branch from the common room, but not the one that both of you were familiar with because of your aid from Koska.

Din leads you through the candle-lit halls, and into a small bedroom. It was cramped, and there was barely enough room for the both of you, but it was cozy. He lit an oil lamp, and it illuminated the room just enough. Din slowly pulls off his helmet, and it’s so dim that you can’t really see anything like normal, but you can make out faint features and the light in his eyes. It was enough. He started to take off his armor too, and you patiently waited with your back against the outerwall that the window was in. He sets the chestplate and pauldrons in a neat pile on the foot of the bed, and kicks his boots off. His arm comes up to rub his neck, and he stretches a few times. He pulls the chainmail up over his head, leaving him in the same peasant blouse and trousers that he wore at the beach all those days ago. You would never get used to how trim his waist was, and how broad his shoulders were. He turns around, and has a smile on his face. You wished you could see him in the light. Din runs his hands through his thick curls and then steps towards you. You close the gap and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for an innocent kiss.

“Thank you.” You mutter.

“What for?”

“For bringing me here tonight… for being with me.” You sigh, and look up at him lovingly. He sighs, and kisses you again. Din starts to deepen the kiss, and you moan into his lips. He was a good kisser, that was for sure.

[SMUT BEGINS HERE]

Din wastes no time, he picks you up by the thighs, lifting you on his waist so you’re kissing down into him, and before you know it, he’s kissing your jaw. Din had learned your body, he knew the sweet spot on your jaw, and always knew just how long he could suck on it before it became a hickey. He never crossed that line, he knew when to stop, but how badly you wanted him to mark you up so Korkie could see, you wanted everyone to see who you loved and why. His strong hands bunch up your skirt, and lift it up so your ass could be uncovered. His arms hold you, and he stumbles back until he falls on the bed in the room. You straddle the knight and get comfortable on his lap. You can feel his hard-on growing, and you’ll never get over the confidence boost that gives you. You start to tentatively rub your hips so that you grinned down into him. You get a sting of pleasure through your spine, and you’re already getting wet. Because you were down in the lower level of the palace, and was totally isolated from most people with thick, stone walls, you take advantage of the opportunity to make noise. You moan into Din’s mouth, and he holds his lips apart for you. His breath against your face was enough alone to drive you crazy, and your fingers twist around the strands of curly, brown hair that sit at the nape of his neck.

Din’s thick, calloused fingers find their way between your legs from the back, and he starts to gently run his fingertips through your slick folds. You gasp at the feeling, he was so gentle with every move. He starts to moan as well as your hips grind further into him in search for more friction and pleasure, and the sound of his voice unobstructed by the beskar is your favorite sound in the whole world. Din settles into his seat, and he pulls you forward onto him. This allows your hips to lift up just enough that he can insert a finger through your cunt. He starts pumping his wrist immediately, fingering you. You pulled your lips away from him, and sat up straight. You throw your head back with a moan, and then bring your hands to the tucked in portion of your shirt. You pull it up over your head, and wriggle out of the slip that kept you clothed. You were finally naked, and you took your free hands and squeezed each nipple. Between the feeling of Din’s fingers deep inside of you, his growing-bulge rutting against your clit, and the added pinch of your nipples, you were already in a euphoric bliss that didn’t take long to reach.

“Din-“ you moan his name, which he loved. He’s eager, and isn’t afraid to show it. Din pulls his cock out from his trousers, and he lets you grind against the tip. You keep it from going in, trying to tease him in the same way that he did the morning after the ball. It was really just driving you over the edge, really, and so before you let his swollen tip prod at your slickness anymore, you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, and take a deep breath before sinking down onto him. Both of you moan out when you do, and he throws his head back, exposing a thick cord of muscle in his neck. You bend down to nip at his adam’s apple before suckling into his tan skin, making sure to leave a massive, purple bruise on the middle of his neck. You bottom out as you do this, and the sensation shoots up your body. You liked being on top for the sheer fact that it gave you a different angle. Din’s length was pressing up into you now, and he filled you up delightfully. Your favorite feeling in the world was being stuffed by him like this.

You could feel every inch of him as you lifted your hips up, you were so wet and it was already such a loud, obscene noise. You kept sucking hickeys into him, and your hands moved from his neck down to the hem of his blouse. You grab the sheer fabric, and pull it up over his head so that Din is finally as shirtless as you. His huge hands stay on your ass, squeezing the fat there and using his own strength to lift you up and down on his cock. It’s slow at first, but it allows the both of you to really savor the feeling of one another. You scratch your fingernails down his pecs, scratching at his abdomen, and then finally trailing in between your legs to circle at your clit as the pace picked up. You lean forward to rest your glistening forehead on his bare shoulder, and your bare chests press into one another.

Din begins to thrust his hips up, and before you know it, you’re bounding on his cock. It’s fast and hard and your weight is slamming you down on to him over and over again with no end in sight. It’s painful in a good way, the same type of ache that would have good memories and passion attached to it. You knew your core would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it as Din’s huge cock runs against your g-spot over and over again inside of you. Your fingers speed up on your clit, and you bite down on Din’s shoulder muscle to keep from being too loud. He’s grunting and growling and is absolutely feral and the noises eliciting off of his kiss-swollen lips are needy yet dominate at the same time. You could get drunk on his breathy-sighs, his voice as dark and husky as always.

“That’s it,” He groans into your ear, you moan in response to his words. You loved when he was vocal because it was so rare that he actually was. “Are you gonna cum on my fucking cock, Princess?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You pathetically moan.

“Fuck-“ he groans, and then shifts his position. Suddenly, the two of you are standing up, and the way his length moves and twitches inside of you as he stands up pulls an involuntary moan from your lips. Din lifts you up with his arms, arching his torso back so that you can lean on him. He then gets right back at the task at hand: chasing your orgasm. It was close, you could feel it, and somehow Din seemed to have more energy and strength in this position. He lifted you up and down on his cock, and your arms found their place wrapped back around his neck, desperately trying to hold yourself up as he absolutely tears into you. He was so big, you keep forgetting how thick he is until his swollen and hard cock is filling you up like you were only made for this exact thing.

He must have gotten tired, you could tell not only by the sheen layer of sweat on his chest, but he pulled you off of himself, and threw you onto the bed. You giggle at the forceful contact, and like being tossed around in bed. It made you feel small, and it really showed his strength. Din pumps his leaking cock a few times, kneeling in front of you and pulling your legs apart. You bite your lip out of lust before he slaps the head of his length on your cunt a few times. The sound is so dirty, and it makes you even wetter.

“Stars, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He bites his lip, slapping his cock harder against you. “Can you hear that? Can you hear how fucking wet that pussy is?” He asks you. Stars, he was good at this.

“Yes… so wet for you.” You sigh, your hand coming down to play with your clit again. Din mutters a ‘that’s right’ before he slides himself through your folds a few times again before pushing into you one more, and he doesn’t hold back. His hands find their way to your hips, and he presses them down into the bed as hard as he can, pinning you in place. He starts to pound into you, and it knocks the wind out of you because of how abrupt and forceful it is. You can’t even really make noise to show how good it was, and instead a few strangled and helpless cries pull from your throat.

“Do you fantasize about my cock when you’re with your fiance? Hm? Does it turn you on knowing that you’re cheating on him?” He asks, and you can finally moan out. He was right, he knew you would say yes.

“Yes!” You say, “I can’t stop thinking about your cock!” You reply, your voice high-pitched and so needy.

“Do you think about me fucking this pussy like a bitch on my cock when you’re in important meetings?” He asks again. There was something about the disrespect that you loved, it only made things better.

“Yes sir!” You cry. Din chuckles and then smacks your ass cheek. His slamming into you so hard that you can’t believe he hasn’t gotten tired yet. You can see how his muscles flex against the moonlight and your core is aching from the knight but it’s all worth it. “I’m gonna cum!” You warm, arching your back in pleasure. Din then spits on your cut, adding to the hot wetness and dirty sounds, and he pulls your fingers away from your clit and replaces them with his.

“Cum with me,” He groans, and almost immediately, you’re cumming on his leaking cock at the same time that he does. He cums so much, and you’re always surprised by it. His load drips down your folds, and he fucks you through it. It’s filthy and you want to keep doing it for the rest of your life. Your arms come up to grasp his biceps, trying to steady yourself on anything. Din moans loud when he cums, and it isn’t until he starts softening inside of you that he quits thrusting. He doesn’t pull out, however, and he stays stuffed inside of you as he catches your breath. You’re fucked-out, your eyes heavy and breasts heaving with each deep breath that tries to calm your heart rate. “I love cumming in you.” He sighs. You already knew that, but you loved how he told you. He goes to pull out, but your thighs squeeze together, holding him in place.

“Stay inside.” You whine. Din tilts his head.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He bends down to kiss your forehead, and then very carefully and slowly turns the two of you so that he is spooning you, his cock still buried inside your dripping and swollen cunt. “You did good, you did so good.” He kisses your neck as he says these, breathing in deep your scent. “S’good… so good.” He catches his breath, and is just as exhausted as you are, if not more. His chest heaves against your back, and his arms pull you against him. You fight against sleep, but ultimately fail, submitting to rest almost immediately after Din pulls the blanket over the both of you. Just before you fall asleep, you hear him mumble something against your neck, although you aren’t sure what it is.

Taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @carbonated-beverage @frogllady @baileys-corner @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @bewitchedbodyandsol @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplay Y @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl @mandosmistress @floraandfrost @paradoxpictures @stinky-child @goldielocks2004 @kenoobiwan @elinedjarin @uniquebiscuitmongerdonkey @artooies-scream @yuiopiklmn

“If you are included in the taglist, you are expect to interact with the post you are tagged in (ex. Reblogs, Notes and Comments). If I see that you are not interacting, you will be removed from the taglist permanently.”

—

part fifteen

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thedeadhandofseldon · 3 years

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The Anti-Mercer Effect

On the Accessibility of D&D, Why Unprepared Casters is so Fun, and Why Haley Whipjack is possibly the greatest DM of our generation.

(Apologies to my mutuals who aren’t in this fandom for the length of this, but as you all know I have never in my life shut up about anything so… we’ll call it even for the number of posts about Destiel I see every day.

To fellow UC fans - I haven’t listened to arc 4 yet, I started drafting this in early August, and I promise I will write a nice post about how great Gus the Bard is once I get the chance to listen to more of his DMing).

Structure - Or, “This is not the finale, there will be more podding cast”

So, first of all, let’s just talk about how Unprepared Casters works. Because it’s kind of unusual! Most of the other big-name D&D podcasts favor this long, grand arcs; UC has about 10 hours of podcast per each arc. And that’s a major strength in a lot of ways: it makes it really accessible to new listeners, because you can just start with the current arc and understand what’s going on!

And by starting new arcs every six or seven episodes, they can explore lots of ways to play D&D! Classic dungeon delve arc! Heist arc! Epic heroes save the world arc! Sportsball arc! They can touch on all sorts of things!

And while I’m talking about that: Dragons in Dungeons, the first arc, makes it incredibly accessible as a show - because it lets the unfamiliar listener get a sense of what D&D actually is. (It’s about telling stories and making your friends feel heroic and laugh and cry, for the record). If I had to pick a way to introduce someone to the game without actually playing it with them, that arc would definitely be it.

And I’d be remise not to note one very important thing: Haley Whipjack and Gus the Bard are just very funny, very charismatic people. Look. Episode 0s tend to be about 50%(?) those two just talking to each other about their own podcast. It shouldn’t work. And yet it DOES, its one of my favorite parts, because Haley and Gus are just cool.

And a side note that doesn’t fit anywhere else: I throw my soul at him! I throw a scone at him - that’s it, that’s the vibe. The whole podcast alternates between laughing with your friends and brooding alone in a dark tavern corner - but the laughs never forced and the dark corner is never too dark for too long.

Whipjack the Great - Or, the DM is Also a Player!

I think Haley Whipjack is one of the greatest Dungeon Masters alive. The plots and characters! The mechanical shenanigans! The descriptions!

Actually, let’s start there: with the descriptions. (Both Haley and Gus do this really fucking well). As we know, Episode 0 of each arc sees the DM reading a description - of a small town, or the Up North, or the recent history of a great party. And Haley always strikes this tricky balance - one I think a lot of us who DM struggle with - between giving too much description and worldbuilding, and not telling us anything at all. She describes people and events in just enough detail to imagine them, but never so much they seem static and unreal - just clear enough to envision, but with enough vagueness left to let your imagination begin to run wild.

While I’m thinking about arc 3’s party, let’s talk about a really bold move she made in that arc: letting the players have ongoing control of their history. Loser Lars! She didn’t try to spell out every detail of this high-level party’s history, or restrict their past to only what she decided to allow - she gave them the broad outlines, and let them embellish it. And that made for a much more alive story than any attempt to create it by herself would have - but I think it takes a lot of courage to let your players have that agency. Most Dungeon Masters (myself included) tend to struggle with being control freaks.

And the plots! Yeah, arc one is built of classic tropes - but she actually uses them, she doesn’t get caught up in subverting everything or laughing at the cliches. And it’s fun! In arc 3, there really isn’t a straight line for the players to follow, either - which makes the game much more interesting and much trickier to run. And her NPCs are fantastic and I will talk about them in the next section.

Above all, though, I think what is really impressive is how Haley balances mechanics, and rules as written, with the narrative and rule of cool - and puts both rules and story in the service of playing a fun game. And the secret to that? She’s the DM, but the DM is a player, and the DM is clearly having fun. Hope Lovejoy mechanically shouldn’t get that spellslot back, but she does, and it’s fun. The changeling merchant in Thymore doesn’t really make some Grand Artistic Narrative better, but wow is it fun. And she never tries to force it one way or the other - the story might be more dramatic if Annie didn’t manage to banish the demon from the vault, but it’s a lot cooler and a lot more fun for the players if Annie gets to be a badass instead - and the rules and the dice say that Annie managed it.

Settings feel like places, NPCs feel like people, and the narrative plot feels like a real villainous plot.

Anyway. I could go on about the various ways in which Whipjack is awesome for quite a while - she’s right, first place in D&D is when your friends laugh and super first place is when they cry - but I’m going to stop here and just. Make another post about it some other time. For now, for the record I hold her opinions about the game in higher esteem than I do several official sourcebooks; that is all.

Characters - Or, Bombyx Mori Is Not an Asshole, And That Matters

Okay, I said I would talk about characters! And I will!

Just a general place to start: the party! All of the first three parties are interesting to me, because they all care about each other. Not even necessarily in a Found Family Trope sort of way, though often that too. But they generally aren’t assholes to each other. The players create characters that actually work together, that are interesting; even when there’s internal divisions like SK-73 v. Sir Mr. Person, they aren’t just unpleasant and antagonistic all the time. Listening to the podcast, we’re “with” these people for a couple hours - and it isn’t unpleasant. That matters a lot. (To take a counter-example: I love Critical Role, but the episode when Vox Machina pranked Scanlan after he died and was resurrected wasn’t fun to listen to, it was just uncomfortable and angering and vaguely cruel).

All of the PCs are amazing, and the players in each arc did a great job. If you disagree with me about that, well, you have the right to be incorrect and I am sorry for your loss. Annie Wintersummer, for one example: tragic and sad and I want to give her a hug, but also Fuck Yeah Wintersummer, and also her familiar Charles the Owl is the cutest and funniest and I love him. And we understand what’s going on with Annie, she isn’t some infinite pool of hidden depths because this arc is 7 episodes and we don’t have time for that, but she also has enough complexity to be interesting. Same with Fey Moss: yeah, a lot of her is a silly pun about fame that carries into how she behaves, but a lot of how she behaves is also down to some good classic half-elven angst about parenthood and wanting to be known and seen and important. (Side note: if your half-elf character doesn’t have angst, well, that’s impressive and also I don’t think I believe you).

There are multiple lesbian cat-people in a 4-person party and they both have requited romantic interests who aren’t each other. This is the future liberals want and I am glad for it.

Sir Mister Person, the human fighter! Thavius, the edge lord! Even when a character is “simple,” they’re interesting, because of how they’re played as people and not action-figures. And that matters a lot.

In the same way: the NPCs. There really aren’t a lot of them! And some of them come from Patreon submissions, so uh good work gang, you’re part of the awesomeness and I’m proud of you! The point being, the NPCs work because enough of them are interesting to matter. It’s not just a servant who opens Count Michael’s door, it’s a character with a name (Oleandra!) and a personality and history. They’re interesting. Penny Lovejoy didn’t need to be interesting, the merchant outside the Laughing Mausoleum didn’t need to be interesting, but they ARE! And Haley and Gus EXCEL at making the NPCs matter, not just to the story but to us as viewers. I agree with Sir Mister Person, actually, I would die for the princesses of the kingdom. I actually care about Gem Lovejoy of all people - that wouldn’t happen in an ordinary campaign! That’s the thing that makes Unprepared Casters spectacular - and, frankly, it’s especially impressive because D&D does not tend to be good at making a lot of interesting compared to a lot of other sorts of stories.

And, just as an exemplar of all this: Bombyx Mori. Immortal, reincarnating(?), and described as the incarnation of the player’s ADHD. I expected to hate Bombyx, because as the mom friend both in and out of my friend-group’s campaigns, the chaos-causer is always exhausting to me. And yeah, Bombyx causes problems on purpose! But! She is not an asshole.

And that’s important. Bombyx goes and sits with the queen and comforts her. Bombyx gives Annie emotional support. Bombyx isn’t just a vehicle to jerk around the DM and other players; Bombyx really is a character we can care about. To compare with another case - in the first couple episodes of The Adventure Zone, the PCs are just dicks. Funny, but dicks. Bombyx holds out an arm “covered in larva” to shake with a count, and robs him of magical items, but she also cares about her friends and other people! She uses a powerful magical gem to save her fertilizer guy from death! Yeah, Bombyx is ridiculous, but she’s not just an asshole the party has to keep around for plot reasons; you can see why her party would keep her around. And one layer of meta up, she’s the perfect example of how to make a chaotic character like that while still being fun for everyone you’re playing with, which is often not the case. And I love her.

The Anti-Mercer Effect - Or, “I think we proved it can be fun, you can have a good time with your friends. And it doesn’t have to be scary, you can just work with what you know”

The Mercer Effect basically constitutes this: Matthew Mercer, Dungeon Master of Critical Role, is incredible (as are all of his players). They’re all professional story-tellers in a way, remember, and so Critical Role treats D&D like a narrative art-form, and it’s inspiring. Seeing that on Critical Role sets impossible standards - and people go into their own home games imagining that their campaigns will be like Critical Role, and the burden of that expectation tends to fall disproportionately on the DM. And the end result, I think, of the Mercer Effect is that we get discouraged or intimidated, because our game isn’t “as good as” theirs. (And I should note - Matt certainly doesn’t want that to be our reaction).

So the Anti-Mercer Effect is two things: it’s D&D treated like a game, and it’s inspiring but not intimidating. And Unprepared Casters manages both of those really freaking well. Because they play it like a game! A UC arc looks just like a good campaign in anyone’s home game. They have the vibes of 20-somethings and college students playing D&D for fun because that’s who they are (as a 20-something college student who plays a lot of D&D, watching it felt like watching my friends play an especially good campaign). They’re trying to tell a good story, sure, and they always do. But first and foremost, they’re trying to have fun, and it shows, and I love the UC cast for it.

And that’s the other half of it: it’s inspiring! It’s approachable; you can see that Haley and Gus put plenty of work into preparing the game but it also doesn’t make you feel like you need hundreds of pages of worldbuilding to run a game. Sometimes a cleric makes Haley cry and she gives them back a spell-slot from their deity! That’s fantastic! It’s just inspiring - listening to this over the summer, when my last campaign had fallen apart under the strain of graduation, is why I decided to plan and run my new one!

That quote from Haley Whipjack that I used as the title for this section? That’s the whole core of this idea, and really, I think, the core of the podcast.

The Mercer Effect is when you go “that’s really cool, I could never do that.” But Unprepared Casters makes you look at D&D and go “wow, that looks really fun. I bet I can do that!” And I love the show for it.

And I bet a lot of you do too.

#unprepared casters #bombyx mori #haley whipjack #long post #this is really rough but I don't have time to keep working on it and it's already a month later than intended

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tomatosauce68 · 3 years

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Hello everyone!

So. My friend burned my au which I didn’t want to share. But since everyone was interested after the @little-engine, I’ll tell you.

A small digression - I did not steal the idea of ay from anyone. Yes, there is one person with the same idea, but we have different stories and different plots.

Sodor Elemental Kingdoms is a universe built on several elements - Water, Earth, Fire, Air, Light, Darkness. Each element has a kingdom where steam locomotives with one of the abilities live. In addition to the 6 main elements, there are also neutral ones - a rather rare occurrence and makes up 10% of the rest. Those who appeared ordinary, it is quite difficult for them to live, but these locomotives were able to adapt and live peacefully with the rest.

The universe is built on a large island, away from people (Consider that it is a few kilometers from the mainland) and the island is divided into several parts:

Atlantic is a city on the water, where steam locomotives live, running water. The territory is large and occupies almost all the waters of the island of Sodor, from which there is a division into northern, southern and eastern parts. This element is controlled by blue and blue steam locomotives.

The eternal green forest is not a big town where steam locomotives live with the power of the earth. The territory has no divisions, but the city owns the forest territory. Green and light green steam locomotives run the land.

North Wind Island (floating island) - a floating island located near the kingdom of water and earth, the territory is kept on a stream of wind and small clouds. Steam locomotives with dark green color control the wind.

The Valley of Volcanoes is the place where the locomotives who control the fire live. The place is a little hot, but livable, being on the high mountains. The fire is controlled by red steam locomotives.

The city of the sun is a small valley where the sun always shines brightly, and the stars are clearly visible at night. The light is controlled by golden or bright (for example pink, purple, etc.) steam locomotives

The forest of horror is the territory of black diesels and steam locomotives. The forest is very deep and always breathes with horror, from which some steam locomotives go around this "damned place" with caution. Most of the rulers of darkness are diesels.

As you can see, ay is very large. Especially in the territories. Who rules these territories? I'll tell you now.

main characters

Thomas - Ruler of the central (southern) part of the kingdom of water. Cheerful and a little naive, from which he rules under the supervision of the northern part. Thomas's main ability is water management (like the rest of the rulers of the kingdom)

Edward - Ruler of the northern part of the kingdom of water. A kind and fair king, however, many think that at any moment - the northern part, because of his kindness, will simply collapse.

Gordon - Ruler of the eastern part of the kingdom of water. Because of his pride, he never listens to anyone and does everything his own way. However, somehow - the eastern part has never collapsed from such an attitude.

Henry is the ruler of the kingdom of the land. Shy but tries to be brave. At its core, like Edward, Henry is a just and kind ruler, although there are phobias.

Percy is the little prince and protector of the kingdom of the land. Due to his age, he is not allowed anywhere, which annoys him a little, so he often helps Henry with support.

Emily is the princess and ruler of the kingdom of the wind. A firm and fair ruler, ready to protect the kingdom and its inhabitants. After the Great Diesel War, Emily vowed to help defend other lands and the former inhabitants of the forest of dread.

James is the Prince and ruler of the kingdom of fire. Due to the injuries from the war with diesel engines, he began to despise them strongly and established slightly strict rules that did not allow even steam locomotives with the power of darkness to cross the vice of the fiery territory. But still, deep down, James is kind, and his orders are protection after the horror he has experienced.

Lady - Ruler of the kingdom of light. Wise and decisive in her reign and the main one who monitors the order of all the elements.

Diesel 10 - Ruler of the kingdom of darkness. He hates steam locomotives and keeps darkness at bay, from which there are very few of the dark locomotives and a lot of diesels. Diesel's main dream is to take possession of all the elements and be in charge.

That's all for now! Ay is really very big, that it doesn't even fit more than 10 pictures ^^'

If you like it, then I will post the second part with minor characters and also tell you about the rest of the features 💖

Thank you for your attention 💋💋

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Elemental powers

#ttte #thomas and friends #art #ttte humanization #humanization #ttte au #ttte thomas #ttte edward #ttte gordon #ttte henry #ttte percy #ttte emily #ttte james #ttte lady #ttte diesel 10

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grishaversecommunityyy · 3 years

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The Grishaverse Ship Survey Results

So! After all of that, we finally have the results! What is the general opinion on the ships in the Grishaverse? Well, that’s for you to read below! It’s actually pretty interesting and, while some parts make sense, there were definitely some parts which... surprised me... Anyway, onto the results!

Everything in this post can be split into:

The Grisha Trilogy

Six Of Crows Duology

The Nikolai Series

Shadow and Bone: TV Series

Most Enjoyed Ships

Least Enjoyed Ships

Crack Ships and Shipping Discourse

Notes from the Survey

(note from mod emily: i tried to bold all of fritz’ comments, but i might have missed a few! be aware there are two of us analysing here :))

The Grisha Trilogy

The first book series we asked about was, of course, the first chronologically: the Grisha Trilogy. The most popular ship, with 83% voters for this series selecting this, was Genya/David (Fritz was glad to hear that; Yes I am). This is likely due to the lack of alternate romantic interests in the series, which seems to be a major issue for Alina’s ships. It also seems to be one genuinely enjoyed by most fans, in contrast to Darkling/Alina and Mal/Alina (each around 30%) and Nikolai/Alina (just under 20%), for which I have definitely seen plenty of debate. The second and third most popular ships for this series were Tamar/Nadia (55%) and Nikolai/Zoya (47%). Interestingly, Genya/Alina (43%) and Zoya/Alina (30%) ranked surprisingly high, especially considering how few of my friends and associates I hear talking about them. Good for them!

Honourable mentions:

Alina/Sun (no doubt inspired by that crack fic I wrote a while back) (Still havent read that out of fear)

Alina alone (a common concept among those surveyed, though most mentioned it later)

Zoya/Genya or Alina/Zoya/Genya

Six Of Crows Duology

This series was a little less divided, I would say. Predictably, Kaz/Inej came out on top with a whopping 96% of voters (:relieved:), with Wylan/Jesper next (90%) and Nina/Matthias just after (83%). None of the others really came close, despite Nina/Inej gathering 35% of the votes and Colm/Aditi at 25% (yeah, I’m not sure why that was so popular on AO3 either, but nobody really has objections so I assume that’s why it amassed so many votes). As Six of Crows is decidedly less divisive about ships and doesn’t have such controversial ships (more on that later), it seems the fandom agrees with canon pairings and the votes are... pretty unanimous.

Honourable Mentions:

Jesper/Wylan/Kuwei

Polycrows (platonic or romantic)

Kaz/Inej/Nina

Whoever didn’t read the instruction about this being for only the book series and put Jesper/Milo. I will never escape.

The Nikolai Series

This one is a little harder for me because I actually haven’t read this... so over to Fritz for analysis! But first, the stats. At 85%, the most popular ship is Genya/David, followed by Zoya/Nikolai at 77%. Tamar/Nadia and Nina/Hanne draw at 61.5% and Nina/Matthias has 56% voters onboard. There’s no real honourable mentions for this one, sadly. Hello Fritz here! Read the books and very glad to see Genya/David as the top ship as it damn well should. Although still a bit surprising since its more of a side-arc of the two and only ties in with the importance of the story at a specific chapter that I feel like I don’t need to elaborate about, if you read Rule of Wolves. (I believe the popularity of the ship also sky-rocketed due to ROW) Following of course Zoya/Nikolai, the high ranking makes sense, it is the main ship and lets be honest they deserve it <3

I think the only really surprising thing about this is the high votes for Nina/Matthias since [SPOILERS CROOKED KINGDOM] he’s dead so I feel like people should move on from that. Nina/“Hanne” having not as high a ranking as I would’ve thought, but with Matthias still being in the frame I guess we shouldn’t be surprised either.

Shadow and Bone: TV Series

This one is really interesting, with the exclusive show watchers now taking part! We have 89% voting for Kaz/Inej, 76% for David/Genya, 71% for Matthias/Nina, 67% for Ivan/Fedyor (that’s a thing???-->Yeah they had a few somewhat sweet interactions in the background-->nvm i watched it you’re right fritz) and 62% for Mal/Alina. What’s really surprising is how high Malina is compared to Darklina, with Darkling/Alina at 36%. Who knows, maybe Fritz’ analysis can shed some light on this?

Yes yes Fritz to the rescue: First of all we have to see their interactions a little different from what we already knew of them by the end of episode 8. I still think it is a surprising number, since the Darkling in the show isn’t as nasty as he was in the books BUT over all his actions are now seen on TV. We all thought the deer antlers were a necklace amirite? Well no apparently not, the darkling used the worst kind of small science to fit Alinas collarbone to the bone and out comes a gruesome sight: a reason why many people might have started thinking: Wow what a disgusting person he is. And on the Malina “ship”: Mal finally has personality!! jkjk :eyes: Mals and Alinas friendship has been portrayed way better in the show and I believe that the people noticed more chemistry between them especially by the end of season 1. So I’m still a little surprised Darklina has such a low ranking (what with him being all sweet and cuddly in the middle of the show) but it makes sense and the Malina ship as well. Their vibes are just *chefs kiss* and thats coming from someone who didnt even like any of these “ships” <3

Loving the quotation marks for the word ‘ships’, Fritz. Over to the honourable mentions!

Honourable Mentions:

Jesper and Milo (isn’t milo a goat? guys, why?)

Nadia/Marie (huh that didn’t appear anywhere else)

One person had several - Kaz/Inej/Jesper, Dubrov/Mikhael, Dubrov/Mikhael/Mal - and yeah, you can really see the show differences in these mentions right? (whose dubrov...and whose mikhael...)

16% actually voted for Inej/Alina which is wild to me because of book context (they did have chemistry in the show tho :cowboi_smirk:)

Another person with several! We have Nina/Inej, Genya/Alina, Zoya/Alina, Zoya/Genya/Alina. Very sapphic. Good for you.

Kaz/Jesper and Nina/Inej all in one

That’s a lot of honour and mentions but it’s so interesting to me and I think you should see too

Most Enjoyed Ships

The most enjoyed ship was Kaz/Inej. This had unparalleled support, being at 35%. Jesper/Wylan, which was next on the list (23.5%) and Nina/Matthias (18%) were also pretty popular. Most of the others were quite low, though interestingly Mal/Alina only had 1 vote (plus one for the show version). Overall, the SoC ships were a lot more popular in this section, which makes sense - this part is really about your favourite ship, and those were more unanimous in the last sections.

Least Enjoyed Ships

Most people said Darkling/Alina, which got 47% of the NOTP votes. A lot more people disliked Darkling/Alina than liked Kaz/Inej. Make of that what you will, but I take it as a somewhat general agreement among many of you guys. Mal/Alina was also strongly disliked at 22%, but around a half or more of these were clarified to be about the book version of the ship specifically. They really must’ve upgraded in the show! Jesper/Kuwei and any other Darkling ships were also voted by a few, but all of these pale in comparison to the anti-Darklina votes. Shoutout to the person who said Apparat/Anyone. I agree, though it’s not something I thought of before seeing this response. Also one person said they didn’t like the poly ships, which I hope meant just the ones mentioned earlier and not all poly relationships in general... Another shoutout to whoever said Kaz/Heleen, because why did I have to read that. A fun question, all in all!

Crack Ships and Shipping Discourse

I love talking about crack ships, so let’s start with that! This time, I really don’t want to have to count and list because... well, let me show you:

I think that sums up the sheer variety, to be honest. Then again, it would be rude not to mention that the most popular were Jesper/Milo, Darkling/Nikolai and Alina/Sun. (If you’re still confused about that last one, I take full responsibility.)

YES KAZ/KRUGE I SUPPORT!!!

Honourable mention to this:

which was a lot to take in, and:

Now for the discourse. Yep, the part you probably came for.

Actually... maybe you didn’t? Looking at all of these responses, I see a lot of people genuinely don’t care about ship wars and so on, and often enjoyed the books regardless of the romances involved. Quite a few disapproved of the ongoing (though small) wars between Darklina and Malina, and others had a similar line of thinking, saying we should maybe stop focusing so much on it. You guys are right. I know this is a ship survey, and the conclusions should not include that shipping isn’t as important as we make it (Yes it should), but... that’s where it’s at.

And then again, a lot of you guys expressed disapproval for Darkling/Alina, discussing how it is often one-sided and manipulative and overall unhealthy, so I could be completely off with that last one. Some people mentioned that they ship this but as a slightly different version that the one given to us, recognising the flaws of the canon ship.

Someone said they headcanon Tolya as aroace (OMG YES!!). We need more aroace characters, so thank you for that headcanon :) We also have a few gay ships mentioned here, and one person telling us they love Malina. Yes, you’re right - it’s pretty unpopular, it turns out. Someone else said Alina should’ve been single, and I agree, actually!

One person rickrolled me here. Thankfully, Youtube’s ads saved me. *wipes forehead*

I leave you all with this, in the end:

Notes from the Survey

Statistics Stuff:

The top ships were taken from AO3, so some ships may be more focused on in other books and may not provide accurate statistics for an earlier series.

The main circles this was sent around may have had bias as most people are from the same discord server, which has debated these topics in the past. Hence certain ships may have lower-than-average results. In future, this could be improved upon by sending this to other servers and areas of the fandom.

Personal bias may be present in the analysis, though I have tried to minimise this in the more formal sections.

Observations and Notes from Me:

You guys really don’t like Darklina. Or you love it. Usually one or the other. Wow.

Be glad I didn’t talk about any of the cursed ships in this. The things I have seen... (:cowboi_eyes:)

I thought more people would rickroll me, ngl.

What Surprised You Guys:

Kaz/Inej/Jesper

A few of you guys saw some of those cursed ships, and that surprised you. Well, me too!

Nikolai ships being in the TV Show section at all, what with his character not being in the show (yeah what was up with that huh tztz)

Inej/Alina

The existence of The Severed Moon

Darkling/Nikolai(/Alina)

How fun the quiz was :D

Things You Sent Me:

Bee Movie copypasta

“Nobody expects The Spanish Inquisition!”, except via an AO3 link

A fun fact about enzymes! I liked this one

Fic recs for Feriku and Sarai (esp for Wylan/Jesper shippers)

Another rickroll

Nice compliments :) aww you guys

I asked everyone for some kind of placeholder name and never used it. Sorry! But hey, anonymity, right?

Closing Statements

If you got this far (I feel like ive been sitting here for hours), thanks for reading! This was fun to do and I hope you enjoyed all of this too! The survey is still open for anyone who hasn’t done it but wants to. If I get a huge amount of new responses, I might update this post! But for now, adios!

-mod emily (and mod fritz)

#grishaverse #fandom #shipping #shadow and bone #six of crows #nikolai series #king of scars #the grisha trilogy

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 3 years

Text

How Do I Live As A Follower Of Jesus?

Part 2: Be Part Of The Body

Not Alone, But Together

When we decide to follow Jesus, we become members of God's family. All Christians are adopted into this family. The followers of Jesus are not people who stay by themselves on their walk with the Lord. God's salvation produces a new community - the people of God:

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. - 1 Peter 2:9-10 (ESV)

This new gathering of people is called the body of Christ:

And you are the body of Christ, and body-parts in part. - 1 Corinthians 12:27 (DLNT)

Not the Same, But Different

The good news of the Kingdom of God is for everyone. So Jesus calls His followers from everywhere - from all around the world, from all sorts of cultures, from all races of people, and from all social classes.

This means that there is a wonderful variety in the body of Christ. We should not expect every follower of Jesus to be the same.

Here is the new song they sang.

“You are worthy to take the scroll and break open its seals. You are worthy because you were put to death. With your blood you bought people for God. They come from every tribe, people and nation, no matter what language they speak.

You have made them members of a royal family. You have made them priests to serve our God. They will rule on the earth.” - Revelation 5:9-10 (NIRV)

Not Divided, But United

Sometimes the wonderful differences in the body of Christ are turned into terrible divisions. But it is wrong to make the ways we are unlike more important than the faith we share in Jesus. The Bible says we are one.

There is one body [of believers] and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when called [to salvation]— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all who is [sovereign] over all and [working] through all and [living] in all. - Ephesians 4:4-6 (AMP)

Now may the God of endurance and encouragement grant that you be like-minded towards one another, according to Christ Jesus. That you, with one mind and with one mouth, may praise God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. - Romans 15:5-6 (RGT)

What Will I Find When I Join With God's People?

Life in God's kingdom is life together. Do not try to walk alone with Jesus. Find other followers of Jesus and meet regularly with them. When the body of Christ gathers there is joy in sharing, music, prayer, teaching and worship. You can also expect to find:

A Place to Belong

As members of God's family, the followers of Jesus come together by God's Spirit. Here is a place you can know that you really belong. Here is where you can find support, encouragement, and real friendship. God Himself welcomes you into this household of faith.

So then ye are no more strangers and sojourners, but ye are fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God,

in whom ye also are builded together for a habitation of God in the Spirit. - Ephesians 2:19 and 22 (ASV)

A Place to Serve

The Spiritual body of Christ works together like a physical body. Each member of Christ's body has a special purpose and job. You can find the special gifts God has given you by serving others. Soon you will see where God has gifted you.

For as we have many members in one body and all members have not the same office, so we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another. Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us: if prophecy, let us prophesy according to our portion of faith; or ministry, let us wait on our ministering; or he that teacheth, on teaching; or he that exhorteth, on exhortation; he that giveth, let him do it with simplicity; he that ruleth, with diligence; he that showeth mercy, with cheerfulness. - Romans 12:4-8 (KJV21)

A Place to Be Served

The different parts of the body depend on each other. As you serve others, you in turn will find God using others to meet your needs. God wants us to know the blessing of supporting each other.

which our respectable parts do not need. Instead, God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the less honorable, so that there would be no division in the body, but that the members would have the same concern for each other. So if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it. - 1 Corinthians 12:24-26 (CSB)

Now there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. And there are differences of administrations, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal. - 1 Corinthians 12:4-7 (KJV)

A Place to Grow

Just as your physical body needs food, so too your spiritual life needs to be fed. Jesus wants you to grow and mature in your faith, your spiritual life, and your service. The spiritual food you need includes teaching from God's Word, sharing with other believers, and prayer and praise to God.

Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work. - Ephesians 4:15-16 (NIVUK)

A Place to Obey

The Christian faith is personal, but not private. Healthy and growing followers of Jesus are not loners. It is by living in community with others that you test how well you obey the great command of love.

And Jesus called them to him and said to them, “You know that those who are supposed to rule over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you; but whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of man also came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” - Mark 10:42-45 (RSV)

The Final Word

A prayer of Jesus for His followers:

I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one—as you are in me, Father, and I am in you. And may they be in us so that the world will believe you sent me. “I have given them the glory you gave me, so they may be one as we are one. I am in them and you are in me. May they experience such perfect unity that the world will know that you sent me and that you love them as much as you love me.” - John 17:21-23 (NLT)

#How Do I Live As A Follower Of Jesus?#Part 2 #Being Part Of The Body

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ofcowardiceandkings · 3 years

Note

Can I get you to infodump about the danelaw because I literally only know about it from crusader kings 3 and much as I love paradox idk how well history gets distilled into a management game

Kthx have a good day

this took me so long to get to APOLOGIES

i've kind of cherry-picked important and interesting bits without writing a whole book or something so here goes lol

first off its important to note that the Danelaw in and of itself was a VERY brief spit of time which was also constantly in flux !! it lasted less than 100 years sandwiched between the start of the Norse invasions and the ousting of a king (and his death), then it was only another 100 years until the Norman invasion, it was a Wild time

ALSO i'll mention too that the term "Danelaw" was probably not a contemporary term. It's first recorded mention as Dena lage in the 11th century, over 50 years after what's now considered the Danelaw had dissolved. It's a term used to distinguish the self-governed Norse-held areas of Britain from those under West Saxon or Mercian law, literally The Danish Law and wasn't used to describe the geographic area until a little later.

It's also worth mentioning that while certain parts of the Danelaw were maintained as kingdoms or client kingdoms of some form (namely the Kingdoms of York and East Anglia), a whole lot of what was part of Mercia or Essex was left to its own devices under Jarldoms of the larger towns (boroughs/burhs). What was called The Five Boroughs of the Danelaw were a very important area in their own right, constituting a strong alliance between the Jarldoms of Derby, Leicester, Lincoln, Nottingham and Stamford. The area south of there was also under various Jarldoms (like Cambridge and Northampton) but they weren't as influential or closely knit as the Five. Technically speaking, the Danelaw is considered a Confederacy under the Kingdom of Denmark, but even aside from the existing peoples, the Norse people living there weren't all from Denmark by any stretch. After it's reunification under Alfred, the whole of England did become part of the Kingdom of Norway for a while under Cnut the Great, before his death split the various territories again, though England was still under Scandinavian influence of some degree all the way up to the Norman Conquest.

one of the more interesting things about the whole affair is that the culture and languages of the Scandinavian Norse and Anglo-Saxons were actually very similar as they had come from the same core groups of people not too long before. the speech was mutually intelligible at a basic level, both parties used a form of the Younger Futhark in some part, a lot of cultural concepts were the same. Aside from the Norse being an outside force, the only big difference was religion. The Saxon kingdoms had been entirely Christian for at least 100 years, despite the Saxons themselves being an interrupting force in the spread of Christianity through Britain even from during late Roman occupation.

Probably the EASIEST thing that made it all compatible other than the language was the similarity between the legal systems of the territories. For example the concept of compensatory damages existed in both places (weregild, literally man-gold), the Norse land division wapentake was more or less interchangeable with the Anglo-Saxon hundred, and so on. A lot of vague traditions held by Saxon peoples were continued in their own fashion, and other than the obvious upheavals of new rulers and raiding parties, not much else actually changed. The descendants of the united Scandinavian armies also made it a relatively peaceful area considering the remaining Anglo-Saxon kingdoms regarded them as squatters, but their closer shared culture and remaining unity actually made it pretty easy for the loose alliances of the Danelaw to stand up to the Anglo-Saxon pushback until it was mostly just Wessex left, with King Alfred in hiding somewhere in the Somerset marshes. It's really quite astounding Alfred bounced back to unify England at all after that on the face of it.

the geographic spread is also an interesting thing ! the first recorded Viking raid is in 793 at Lindisfarne monastery off the coast of modern Northumberland (VERY north) but the first recorded wintering of Norse peoples intending to stay long-term was actually in East Anglia (VERY south). What the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles called "The Great Heathen Army" marched the length of England to go and take advantage of a civil war happening back in Northumbria, where they captured and sacked York (Angle: Eoforwic, Norse: Jórvík) in 865. This established the START of the Danelaw as its usually measured, which spanned from 865 to 954.

It actually took only 10 years from the sacking of York for most of the Danelaw to become the Danelaw as most of its maps depict at its maximum, and for Alfred of Wessex to make peace with yet another settled Norse group in Dorset. Also! its worth noting that Alfred only became the king of Wessex after his brother Æthelred died in 871, well after the Dane forces had already taken hold of the Kingdom of York, the Kingdom of East Anglia, and a significant chunk of Mercia. He was of course already involved in the affairs but he did get chucked in at the deep end lol

Part of the peace keeping the re-established Kingdom of Wessex under Alfred and the Danelaw at large under fairly steady and peaceful borders for its more stable periods (definitely a relative term) from 878 , was down to Guthram and Alfred's agreements. After Alfred came out of his hiding in exile with an army, and forced the Danes to surrender, Guthram agreed to be baptised with Alfred as his godfather, and also agreed to go back to his Kingdom in East Anglia. In 884 Guthram made a run of it again and attempted to take Kent, but in being unsuccessful he signed the Treaty of Alfred and Guthrum, which basically established the formal border of the Danelaw and let them self-rule if they did keep to themselves. It wasn't until 902 that shenanigans started happening again, but considering how generally tumultuous the entire period was, just shy of 20 years of formalised peace wasn't bad going.

Eiríkr Haraldsson (or Eric Bloodaxe) was a pretty obscure guy for a lot of his life considering he was definitely Norwegian nobility. It's thought he may have been King of Norway for a short time, and maybe Northumbria twice over - though definitely for the second time when he was ousted from Northumbria - which essentially brought the end of the Danelaw proper. He's mentioned in a LOT of texts (Egils / Orkney / Icelandic / Norwegian sagas, Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. potentially Historia Norwegiæ, Annals of the Four Masters, Annals of Clonmacnoise), but he's still a bit of a vague figure somehow. He's noted as being a son of Harald, and the Icelandic and Norwegian version of events is that he was one of Harald Fairhair's many sons, although some people think he may have been the son of Harald Bluetooth. He DID definitely exist though, the last Norse minted coins in York are stamped with his name. Norse Northumbria and York was very strongly tied to the Norse Kingdom of Dublin (which lasted a LONG time by comparison), but upon his being removed in 954 the hope of the lands becoming a two-part kingdom fell apart.

The end of the Viking Era itself is often cited as being the defeat of King Harald (Hardrada) Sigurdsson of Norway at the Battle of Stamford Bridge in 1066. He had landed hoping to retake York and the English crown as a whole with the help of King Harald Godwinson's brother Tostig, but the English forces managed to stop them. This actually probably helped out William the Conqueror (also of Norse decendant, Norseman - Norman) efforts less than a month later to take England, since the English armies had already dealt with the same thing and were mostly in the north away from the attacking forces from Normandy. Under William's Norman rule there were a few more attempts by other Scandinavian rulers to retake or at least plunder York, but the efforts never went very far. The last serious raids on England from Scandinavia came from Eystein II of Norway, who took advantage of The Anarchy (a civil war in Norman territories over a succession crisis between 1135 and 1153) to plunder the East Coast.

OKAY i'll stop waffling now but here we go jfkddfjdk

i hope this was interesting enough and something like what you were after instead of just some word puke gjfkdkjfd !!!

#meraxes-of-new-albion #asks #long post #history #rory's ramblings

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heloflor · 3 years

Text

As Time Passes Prologue : The Estate

AO3 link

People never choose where they were born.

Balthazar was said to be lucky. He was a prince ! He had all the fame ! All the recognition ! All the things he could ever dream of !

Deep down, he knew it was all fake.

This life felt like a prison. A prison of boredom filled with duties that were choking him more and more. And through the bars, he could see the outside world, he could see the time-agents working for his parents, and all the things they accomplished.

And when Balthazar found an escape route, it was obvious he was meant to go sooner or later.

Note : And here’s the first part of a long fic that I’ve been thinking of for a while now. Note that I have NO idea when the second chapter will come out. While I’m basically done with the school year, I still have some work, so I won’t have all the time of the world. But I still really wanted to get that chapter done.

The prologue is going to be three to four chapters long and will mostly serve to give the characters a backstory along with introducing some side characters. But be aware that the ideas introduced in these chapters won’t be the subject of an arc in the main story, it will be more like things established about the characters that could get a mention or characters that will show up in the main story without much introduction, since the introduction will be done here.

There will also be some small “extra” chapters about things that are related to the fic but overall don’t really play a big role in the main story, like a flashback or, in the case of this chapter, a “where are they now” kind of thing. There could also be smut at some point if I ever decide to try writing about it (no promises).

As for the main fic, let’s just say that, while I write Cavendish and Dakota as a married couple, I’m still a sucker for “getting together” fics. So I might as well write about their history ; ) .

And fun fact, before Cavendish’s appreciation day, I never really thought of a backstory for him and Dakota. But after seeing people talk about them and their possible histories, in arts and even old fics and random posts, I started making my own headcanons. So thanks people for the inspiration !

This chapter can kind of be considered as a Royal AU I guess ? I mean, it’s more of a backstory related to it but the “aesthetic” is pretty much the same as a royal AU. As for the castle, it’s your usual renaissance castle but with futuristic technology like metallic automatic doors for the bedrooms and some floating telegraphic screen things to write notes on; stuff like that. Although, for the clothing, it would be more the Victorian era with royal outfits that look like general outfits (hope it’s easy to picture… Basically it’s not the Renaissance clothing with layer after layer, it’s a less heavy clothing). Also, the garden is an “English garden” with plants that can grow kind of randomly (compared to French garden in which everything is controlled and symmetrical).

I have no idea if this description makes sense but point is, this is basically what most people think about when you say 1700s royalty but with stuff from different time periods because no research had been made on a precise time period. In my defense, this takes place in 2149 so who’s to say people wouldn’t mix time periods ?

And since I took a royal approach and talk economy : know that this story is just some random fic and does not show any politic views or stuff like that. It’s the first ideas that came to mind to justify having the characters as royals. Even the royal situation is more out of convenience than anything. And the fact that this is posted now also has nothing to do with what happened a few days ago; I started working on this way before it.

And finally, if you have any questions or comments about this fic, feel free to ask ! I’m always open to criticism and for an excuse to infodump (as long as it doesn’t end up in spoiling the story) ! And since two fics are doing it, if you’re wondering : no, this fic won’t have an askblog. While I love askblogs, I don’t have the energy to make one. So if you have any questions about the fic, ask in general, not to a character.

One last comment : while this chapter is pretty chill in terms of content, be aware that the rest of the prologue, along with some parts of the main fic, will talk about some pretty serious topics, which is also why this fic might take some time for every chapter because a lot of research is needed here to make sure not to mess anything up (the thought of chapter three of the prologue already scares me). For each chapter, I will put a warning for the content. But overall, I’d advise you to look at the AO3 page if only for the tags (tags will change and be added as the fic goes on).

Anyways, enjoy !

“Greetings, class ! Today, we’re going to continue our history lesson on how our nation came to be. As promised last time, we are going to see the European Fallout of the 2080s.

Throughout the 21st century, Europe went through several economic crises. All of it led to a collapse by the end of the 2070s. At the end of the decade, a crisis raged in the United States and spread to our Europe. In only a few weeks, every country found themselves on the brink of poverty. The consequences of this fallout are still present nowadays as most European countries are much poorer than they used to be. A lot of people tried to find the root of this event and pointed the finger at the Louisiana Purchase.

As for what happened to our England, I told you last time how our country used to be part of the United Kingdom, an alliance made with three other countries. When the fallout started, the United Kingdom was the first to be affected and nobody knew how to make the situation better. After hundreds of arguments and decisions that didn’t go anywhere, the United Kingdom ended up splitting up.

Moreover, people stopped trusting the government of that time, which had a prime minister at its head, and asked for the royal family to stand up and take back the leadership role they gave up years ago. But since the Queen can only do so much, since not every part of the country was affected equally and since a government with one ruler making decisions with a council failed, the system changed. Our country was divided in Estates, each ruled by a Lady or a Lord. The Ladies and Lords were chosen among the richest and most influential families of England. This division helped bringing closeness between the people and the ones ruling over them. That way, solving local issues became easier.

Wishing to be old-fashioned, the Ladies and Lords decided to live in palaces, each palace near the biggest town of the Estate. They also started to refer to each other as kings and queens, though with no desire to question the authority of our Queen. They also chose to raise their children to take over after their passing and chose to host meetings, often turning into balls, to give their children the opportunity to meet the princes and princesses that could become their future spouse. Finally, these families all have a profession related to the Queen and the rest of her court. Of course, they are part of the court as well.

This system, our current system, had been created more than five decades ago now, and look at how greatly it managed to save us from the collapse the rest of Europe is barely recovering from !

And that, children, is why we live and thrive in the Cavendish Estate.”

---------------

April 20, 2149

“Have you heard about what that person claimed last night ? I heard it had been all over the news !”

Balthazar chuckled. Gossip. Something people sure loved to spread in this town. There was something quite fascinating about it. To see people so willing to believe anything, if they know the person they heard it from.

“What does this weirdo want ?”, he heard one of the ladies whisper to the other.

“My apologies.”, Balthazar replied, knowing full-well the comment was aimed at him. After all, he was the only person wearing a black cloak while sitting on benches at the town’s only green space, looking at the people passing by. Not wishing to bring more attention to himself, and realizing how late it was getting, the blonde walked away, covering as much of his face as possible.

“What a creep.”

Balthazar walked through the town, wishing he had the time to stop at one of the shops that displayed artisanal work. This work was so much insignificant compared to everything he was given, and yet it was so much more valuable ! Those were hand-craft objects, things that people made themselves, with their own talent ! Things they accomplished by their own abilities !

...But he didn’t have time, he had to hurry.

He knew the road by heart by now. First leave the town by taking the smaller streets. Then, there was the long road through the forest. Balthazar always felt uncomfortable while crossing it. The woods were purely decorative, put there by his grandparents to make the ride to the castle more pleasant. This meant that nothing and nobody lived here, and the only noise that could be heard were the occasional blowing of the wind through the leaves and the electric movement of the cameras. They weren’t a lot of them, and Balthazar managed to find a path that avoided them all. He could now rush through the woods, only slowing down once he reached the walls surrounding the royal garden. There was a crack in one part of the wall, at the very back of the garden, hidden behind a set of bushes and just big enough to let the prince go through. It had been there for years.

All he had to do now was hide his cloak into the bushes, remove all eventual filth off his person, grab the book about time theories he left behind and go back inside, pretending to have been reading this whole time. When he started to open the back doors and felt the guards grabbing them to let him in, he felt reassured to see them do their usual greeting. Seemed like nobody had been looking for him.

“Balthazar.”, the prince almost jumped as his mother emerged from one corridor, and took back his previous statement. The queen had her face fully visible with her ginger hair tied into a bun. And while the woman looked calm and composed, the blonde knew that, had she not been raised as a royal, the glare from her icy eyes would lead to a full-blown rage. The queen opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out as she noticed the book in her son’s hands. When she looked back at him, he knew he was in trouble.

“Have you been so taken by your story that you did not hear the commotion inside ?”

“I…”, Balthazar didn’t know how to answer without making it worse for him. He had no idea his free-time had been replaced by something else. How do you pretend to forget about something if you don’t even know what it is ?

“The son of our closest ally was there, more than eager to meet you again.”

“Oh ! A meeting !”, his interjection only reinforced the frown on his mother’s freckled face and the prince gulped. “I…I mean, I thought we already had such a meeting Monday.”

“We chose to have them more often, you are aware of that.”, it wasn’t a question.

“I…”, Balthazar sighed. “I apologize for my lack of foresight.”, that was his best option right now.

“Apologies will not bring a husband.”, the queen reprimanded. She approached him and grabbed his head. “You are close to being thirty now.”, he tone soothed.

“I am only twenty-six.”, her son protested.

“It is already old.”, she insisted. “Soon enough, you will lose your youthful charm.”, she lifted his chin. “You are a handsome man, dear. Do not let it go to waste.”

“I assure you, I am not trying to.”

“Then why avoiding your chances ?”

“…”, the prince looked down.

“Is there something wrong with your suitors ?”, she tried asking. “Would you rather court Ladies ?”

“No, it’s not- ! I really do am interested in Lords.”, his mother raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting a better explanation. “I simply…I do not find these princes to be the most…attractive. Or interesting.”, he mumbled that last part.

His mother eyed him for a moment, before finally letting go of him.

“Remember. You are the heir of the Cavendish Estate. It is your duty to assure our progeny. It is already disappointing to know that you will continue our bloodline with a surrogate instead of your spouse. Do not force us to choose a husband for you.”, and with that, she left.

Truth be told, Balthazar saw all these princes as the same. Rich egotistical men who boasted about the wealth and power their parents managed to get. They were all the same built, all told the same boring discussions, seemingly happy about their situation. Sometimes, Balthazar felt like the only one who wasn’t interested into such talks, who wasn’t satisfied with what he was.

Now, a real man, a strong and muscular man who could sweep him off his feet and crush him without effort, while still showing kindness and acting as a gentleman…Now that was his type of men !

However, he could never admit it to his parents. They would be disgusted with him.

“Your highness ?”, Balthazar thoughts were interrupted by one of the servants approaching. The man bowed his head in respect.

“What is it ?”, the prince asked, taking his royal tone.

“I am here to notify you like you asked. Mr. Elmont and his team are about to come back.”

“Mr. Elmont is back ?”, he asked excitedly.

“He is.”, the servant confirmed.

“Thank you !”, Balthazar quickly said as he hurried down the hallway, his manners forgotten.

It didn’t take him long to reach the basement under the right wing of the castle. This part of the property served as headquarters for the B.O.T.T. agents working for the Cavendishes.

The prince went to the garage. It was there that most people went to talk to the agents, as the rest of the space given to them was used for their personal accommodation.

The garage was a simple room. At the center, there were parking spaces for the cars of the five teams that lived here, including two spare vehicles that were rarely used. Near the walls rested equipment along with tools and car parts. There also was a cooler and several bags for long missions in hostile environments.

There were also pictures. Dozens of framed pictures of all the places they travelled to and the wonders they saw here. Balthazar was always in awe at their view. To think the world used to be so different ! That the world outside of those walls was so diverse ! That there had been so many civilizations, so many different kinds of people over the centuries ! But out of all these people, how many of them had their story told ? How many of them made a difference ? How many were completely forgotten ? The thought of it both fascinated and scared the prince as he wondered about his own place in the world. Would he be a hero, remembered for his great ruling, or would he be forgotten, becoming nothing more than a name on a family tree ? Or worse, what if he was remembered for the bad reasons ? He knew some of the people in the Estate were against the concept of Lords ruling over them. So what would this mean for his future ?

Most often than not, Balthazar envied the time-travelers. Not only did they have the luck to see so many things in their lifetime, but they also had the opportunity to make a change in the world. Sometimes, Balthazar wished he could be in their place.

Ever since he learned to read, he had been studying about time-travel. He started off reading child books about the adventures of the incredible Professor Time and his loyal partner Perry, a creature Balthazar always figured was fictional. Then, as he grew up, he continued with theories and facts about the time-stream, alternate universes and other dimensions. His parents had always been skeptical about this hobby of him, claiming that it could ‘derivate you from your duties’. But overall, the prince managed to convince his mother to let him spend his free-time learning about it, as long as he kept paying attention to ‘important matters’.

Soon after he took the stairs leading to the garage, the portal to the past opened, letting three time-vehicles back. The time-travelers left their vehicles and the blonde quickly took sight of Mr. Elmont’s familiar shape. At the sight of the prince, the agents bowed.

“Your majesty.”, they greeted.

“Gentlemen.”, Balthazar replied, trying to keep his composure. “May I hear the report of your assignment ?”

“Certainly.”, Mr. Elmont replied. He took out one of his holographic devices to give to the prince.

“Thank you.”, the blonde dismissed the group with a gesture. After all, their priority was to report to the king and queen. If they had to clean or tend to the cars, they could do so later.

With the agents away, he turned the device on and a representation of the land visited appeared. There was a text at the bottom, explaining that the time was West-Asia in 1795 and what the objective was. Balthazar spent a good chunk of time reading it all, planning dozens of questions to ask the agents, until his father’s impatient voice brought him back to his royal duties. With envious glances towards the time-machines, he left the garage.

When the evening came, Balthazar had a boring and uneventful dinner filled with talks with his parents about the state of their province before retracting to his room. He sighed, sliding down against the door. What was wrong with him ? He was a prince. He was smart, cultivated, respected, beloved by the court. So why did all the things supposedly important for him feel so dull ? Why did everyday feel like the same boring routine ? And with his parents wishing to intensify the number of meetings with other princes…

He shouldn’t be thinking like this. He knew his parents wouldn’t like it. He was a future Lord ! He was rich ! He had everything !

Well…maybe not everything.

Balthazar found himself drawn to his balcony, putting his weight onto the ramp as he admired the familiar view. He could see the capital from here, its light a display of the grooming activity of the people. Further away, there were other towns, some almost barely visible due to the distance.

What were civilians doing right now ? What kind of activities did they do at that time ? Did they know how lucky they were to live out there ? To be free to do and see anything they wanted ? Or were they envious of his life, just like he was of theirs ?

The prince sighed again. He didn’t know why he felt like that. Ever since he was a child, he had never felt satisfied with being a prince. He never liked having so many duties. He didn’t care about the politics of the allies and enemies his father had. He didn’t enjoy courting. But most importantly, he hated how people only knew and praised him for what his family was, instead of knowing who he was as a person, and what he could accomplish by himself. This was what made his entire work feel so meaningless.

Balthazar went to sit on his bed, putting Dennis on his lap.

“Do you think I overthink things ?”, he asked Dennis. Of course, the plush didn’t respond, but it didn’t stop the blonde from seeing a judgmental look on his companion’s face. “You’re right. I should not be complaining. Besides, surely I cannot be the only member of the court who complains like that…But still, why do you think I feel like this ? Was I not born and raised to rule ? And it isn’t as if I was not born here. Mother and Father care too much about lineage to adopt.

So if ruling is in my blood, why do I feel like I am not made for it ?”

---------------

April 21, 2149

Another day, another meeting with other Estates, another potential husband to stand.

Everyone was gathered into the throne room. The high members of the Estate were here, along with members of the court and families of friend Estates. Balthazar was standing in front of his throne, next to his parents. The king was doing his usual welcoming speech, his tall stature and floating blond hair making his presence imposing. The prince half-listened to his father’s speech. He had heard it a million times before. Instead of listening, he studied the crowd. One of the men here might very well be his future husband. Whoever it might be, Balthazar hoped he would be strong but also compelling.

As he recognized the last words from the speech, he took it as his cue and walked down the steps separating the thrones to the rest of the room. His father announced the festivities and people started to merge together in a myriad of colors.

Each Estate had a dominating color in their clothing, adorned for the Lords with a dozen medals and titles like his father did. Balthazar wasn’t so bad himself. He was wearing a white shirt covered by a deep blue waist-coat along with leggings, all covered by a matching coat. The three pieces of clothing had gold patterns sewed on them. His stockings were white, contrasting with the black of his boots. His crown was quite simple : a circular piece of jewelry with emeralds engraved in it. The green created an enticing contrast with the rest of his clothing. The only exception were his glasses, carrying the same golden colors as the crown, with an emerald on each branch.

Soon enough, he was approached by a man. He was wearing a brown outfit that complimented his dark hair. His clothes followed the same mold as Balthazar’s, the proper dress code for a prince. From his outfit, Balthazar guessed that he came from the Valjean Estate, an Estate form the far-South that had some French roots and recently became good acquaintances with his own province. The blonde had to admit, that prince wasn’t bad looking.

“Greetings. May your kingdom be prosperous and your family proud.”, the prince extended his hand.

“May your kingdom be prosperous and your family proud.”, the blonde shook his hand. “Prince Balthazar Tiberius of the Cavendish Estate.”, he introduced himself.

“Prince Clement Hugo of the Valjean Estate.”, the prince replied, his accent confirming his origin. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”, Balthazar replied. He knew the protocol, and the prince was slightly his style, so he might as well get things going. “Would you like to head for the garden ? We can have more privacy to talk.”

“A bright idea.”, the other man nodded, following him.

They stayed in the garden for a while, walking along the path near the walls. At every step, Balthazar’s disappointment grew. For a moment, he had thought that he was finally with someone interesting. But like any other prince he met, the man ended up talking politics and royal meetings and other topics that the blonde would rather forget about, if only for one day.

“And that’s how my father solved the issue of that drought.”, the prince boasted. “And now, our Estate is more flourishing than ever. Rather impressive, is it not ?”

“Indeed. Your father is rather impressive.”, the blonde pointed out.

“…Well,”, the prince coughed. “I helped as well with a great work-“

“A significant work for sure.”, Balthazar said sarcastically while rolling his eyes.

“Why being so insulting ?”, the prince asked, stopping in his tracks. “Do you not deem your work important ?”

“As a matter of facts, I do not.”

“But…are you not a successful barrister for the Queen ?”

“Oh please ! Do you honestly believe that any of the people I defend would be declared ‘guilty’ without me ? They are part of the Queen’s court ! Our families are too rich and powerful to be opposed !”

The other prince just looked at him, flabbergasted.

“Don’t you see ?!”, Balthazar continued. “Neither of us accomplished anything ! Our professions are nothing but facades ! We didn’t earn any of the things we have ! All our wealth was made by our grandparents ! All the things people praise us for, it was all given to us by our families ! Even our meaningless professions were dictated by them !”

The prince opened his mouth, most likely to protest, but no sound came out.

“Don’t you want to be more than that ? Don’t you want to do something more with your life ?”

“I am doing something with my life !”, he protested.

“But don’t you want more ?”

“…What do you want out of your life, Prince Balthazar ?”

“I…I want to get out of there.”, he gazed at the top of the property’s walls. “I want to explore the world. I want to be the master of my own life. I want people to praise me for my own accomplishments. I want to be more than just a forgettable pawn working for this Estate !”

The prince stared at him, his surprise slowly fading away. For a moment, Balthazar thought that he was going to excuse himself, leaving and not feeling comfortable to talk to him again unless he was forced to. Not like the blonde would mind. This was how half of those ‘relationships’ ended up anyways. At least this one would be as short as he wished it to.

But instead, the prince looked at him with a much more serious expression.

“…I knew someone like you.”

“You…you do ?”

“The youngest prince of the Limgar Estate. He knew his turn as a ruler would never come, but he never wished for it anyways. He wished to leave his Estate, and he tried to.”

“He did ?!”, for the first time in years, Balthazar felt a bubbling excitement. Was it truly possible to leave ? Were there no consequences to it ?

The prince nodded. “Unfortunately for him, he had no choice but using the front gate. He tried to leave during the guards relaying but was seen. And while he managed to go far, as he was on a train by the time his family was warned and it was made clear that he was not supposed to be outside, it only took a call to the friends Estates to end his escapade.”

Balthazar deflated. Of course there was no easy way to get away with such a plan.

“Ever since this incident, he is followed at all times by a guard. As for his reputation…Well, I believe you understand that the entire court now show him every disdain. He is an outcast among his own people. Of course, this is not helped by his rank as the second born.”

The prince let Balthazar a few seconds to take it all in. “I will refrain from confessing your desires to your family.”, he then reassured. “But if I were you, I would reconsider a lot of things. Nobody wants to be shunned by their own kind, especially an heir.”, and with that, the prince bowed to excuse himself and headed back to the castle.

Balthazar stayed behind, dozens of questions on the tip of his tongue but unable to talk. How long had it been since this event ? How many people were aware of this story ? Would it be possible for him to meet that prince ? Did other people feel that same way but never talk about it out of fear ? Not like it would matter anyways, if bringing it up only caused troubles. But still. For once, it would be nice to meet someone who shared his point of view, to prove that they had nothing insane to them.

The blonde watched as the other prince headed back inside, before glancing the other way. For an instant, he considered going to town to forget about this whole thing, but with the current meeting, he knew his parents were watching. With one last lingering glance towards the walls, he headed back inside.

Balthazar almost collapsed in his throne as the evening came. The meeting ended soon after he came back inside. Afterwards, it had been time for his piano lessons, followed by sports and dance and then several hours of working for his law firm. And now, he had to attend as his parents took care of business for the people. Representatives would come to have hour-long discussions about what policies to adopt. Balthazar needed to pay attention and remember as much as possible despite his parents’ advisor noting it all down on a holographic tablet.

By the time they finished, the prince was trying to suppress his yawns, his head resting on his hand from boredom and tiredness. He quickly corrected his posture when his father glanced at him.

Without a word, the three royals stood up, the king dismissing the servants, and went for dinner.

Despite his tiredness, Balthazar went to the B.O.T.T. quarters after dinner. With his mother promising more meetings, he would have little to no free-time in the upcoming days. So he might as well take any opportunity.

He reached the garage and was relieved to see Mr. Elmont here. The man was working on a device.

“Sir.”

The time-traveler looked up in surprise and quickly saluted. “Your Majesty.”

“Is this a bad time ?”, the prince asked.

“Not at all.”, Elmont reassured, a hint of amusement in his voice. Ever since Balthazar had been allowed to meet the time-agents, Mr. Elmont had been kind of a confidant to him. He quickly saw the interest the prince had for his profession and was always more than happy to recount his missions. And meeting the prince in his younger years helped partly close the gap tied to the power imbalance, making the agent more of a friend than a servant. “What can I do for you ?”

“I would like to hear more of your last mission, if this is possible.”, the blonde tried to sound as detached as possible. His parents tended to enforce the fact that Mr. Elmont was under his orders, and he didn’t want the agent to get scolded for patronizing him.

Elmont picked up his holographic device and rested his back against the working table, patting the space next to him as an invitation for the prince.

For the next hour or so, the blonde listened as the time-traveler explained his last mission in detail, talking about the objectives, the places, the people. Balthazar let himself loosen, letting the man see his curiosity.

“BALTHAZAR !”

The prince jumped as his father’s voice filled the room.

“Balthazar ! What are you doing in here at such a time ?!”, the king reprimanded while walking down the stairs.

“Your Highness.”, the time-traveler quickly greeted.

“Agent Elmont ! You know better than to waste the time of an heir on trivial babbling !”

“My deepest apologies, your Highness.”

“Father.”, the prince intervened. “I’m the one who chose to come here. Mr. Elmont did nothing but obey orders.”

“Balthazar…”, the king said in a warning tone. Without another word, he went back up the stairs. The prince glanced at the time-traveler, murmuring a ‘apologies’ before trotting after his father. Once he reached his level, the Lord looked at him. “Balthazar.”

“Father, I-“

“Son, listen. You are an heir. You have a duty, responsibilities.”, he lectured. “Your mother has left you loose for too long. You need to learn to spend your time on what truly matters.”

“I…I understand.”, Balthazar could only agree with his father’s wishes. It seemed that today was going to become the new norm.

---------------

April 28, 2149

Balthazar collapsed in his bed, ignoring the crown slipping out of his face. It had been a week since his parents had decided to intensify his duties and it was already starting to show. He had had a trial yesterday and, while the client got acquitted like every other, his defense had been the flimsiest he ever displayed. His parents had lectured him, telling him how disappointing he had been. Of course, he had expected their reaction. His profession was a show before anything else. He had to be perfect to prove the greatness of his Estate.

And with the revocation of his free-time, he found himself thinking more and more about the story prince Clement had told him. Worse, he thought of the way the younger brother tried to leave and what the flaws in his plan had been. Mainly, the issues were his choice to use the front gate and to head for a friend’s Estate. If a member of the court goes missing, of course calling friends and enemies was the first thing to do. Balthazar needed to find an Estate that tended to be forgotten by most if he wanted to-

No. He shouldn’t have these thoughts. Even if the outside world seemed so wide and exciting and-

Stop this., he scolded himself. You have a duty to fulfill. Besides, the outside world is dangerous. An accident-prone person such as you would struggle alone out there. And who’s to say other Estates are the same as the capital ? The places that Mr. Elmont sees are from the past. If I leave, I would find myself on my own in much duller places. Unless I pack enough money to get to study-

No. You have to stop this ! You were born to be a ruler !

…But isn’t being close to the people part of being a ruler ? Doesn’t that mean leaving the castle as well ?

Balthazar glanced at Dennis. The plush was standing on the bed near him. At the view of his companion, memories started to flood into his mind. His only day of freedom, a carnival in the middle of the capital. So many games, so many colors, so many noises, so much laugher, so much happiness. The prince had yet to top the feelings of that day.

He sighed. He wanted to get out of there, there was no reason to doubt this. He wanted another life, outside of these walls and among the people. He wanted to find a man that was different from all these princes, much more charming than any of them could dream to be.

But could this life ever become more than just a dream ?

---------------

May 9, 2149

Balthazar was running down the halls, ignoring the looks from the servants. He had just been warned that every time-traveler would go on a mission that would last at least a month. If he wanted to talk to them, it was now.

He quickly went down the stairs to the garage and was relieved to see the agents still there, making their ways into the vehicles. Once a few took notice of him, they greeted him, getting the attention of the other agents.

“Is Mr. Elmont still there ?”, the prince asked between two breaths. He looked at all the cars and was relieved to notice the agent’s usual time-machine. A second later, Mr. Elmont left his vehicle.

“Go ahead.”, he told the rest of the group. “We will join you afterwards.”

Balthazar watched as the cars jumped into the time-stream. Elmont approached him while his partner entered their time-machine.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much time.”, the agent reminded. “What is it ?”

“I…”, the prince cleared his throat, trying to get his composure back. “I would like to know more about how you became a time-traveler.”

“Oh ? And why is that ?”, Elmont seemed hesitant. Has the king given him a warning due to last time ?

“Am I not allowed to know every part of your profession, including how to reach it ?”, he tried to sound firm. But when he saw the agent look away with a frown, his pretense dropped. “Mr. Elmont, please tell me.”, he insisted.

“…Alright.”, the agent decided. “To become a time-traveler, you need to study for twenty cycles. Each cycle is three months long, and you’re able to take a long break between each cycle. So the shortest time for the studies is five years, with four cycles per year and no break. You can start your studies by the age of fifteen, if you’re certain this is your calling.”, Balthazar listened intensely, maybe too intensely.

“During those studies, you learn about the histories and cultures of the past, including the different views of those times for when you need to do infiltration missions. You also learn about time-travel theories and how your machine works. There’s physical training as well, along with a few driving lessons, especially to learn to drive under pressure. But it’s better to learn to drive before starting out, or during the first cycles.”

“And where did you study ?”

The agent looked at him for a moment before answering. “Every big town has a branch of the time-travel agency where you can learn and be employed. But the B.O.T.T. headquarters are located in America, in the Tri-State Area where time-travel was invented. In the states, there’s also the Institution of Regulation and Punishment for Time-Travel, I.R.P.T.T. for short. So if you want to address B.O.T.T., it needs to go overseas.”

“Edward ?”, the other time-agent called from the car.

“I have to go.”, Mr. Elmont told the prince.

“I understand.”, Balthazar smiled. “May your journey be successful.”

“Thank you.”, the agent bowed. On his way to the car, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Your Majesty. Whatever you might be thinking of doing, please be careful.”

And with that, the time-machine was gone.

Balthazar stayed for a moment, looking at the spare engines. If he knew how to drive, could he be able to leave that way ?

He shook his head. Thinking about it was meaningless. He should go back before any of his parents noticed his absence. He had papers to sort for his next case.

That is, if he did attend to the trial.

---------------

May 18, 2149

This was a terrible idea.

It was the middle of the night. The castle was silent, devoid of any activity aside from the guards on patrol. Balthazar was standing in front of his bed, where was resting a brown satchel that he filled with books about time-travel, along with a few personal items, including Dennis. And cash. A lot of cash.

Balthazar’s hands were resting on each side of the bag. He was considering his options. Ever since the meeting with the Valjean prince, he had unconsciously been studying the routine of the guards, counting the time between each permutation. He had also gotten an interest for the other Estates, as his mother put it. In reality, he asked her and his father about the Estates they had a relationship with, either positive or negative, to see which places they never paid attention to.

Along with that, he got the opportunity to meet the oldest prince of the Limgar Estate and ask him about what happened with his brother. As expected, he was told about how terribly viewed the younger brother was now. This made the blonde more hesitant about his plan, but not enough to stop him. What he mostly learned from this story was one thing : do NOT get caught.

Finally, he had put in the steps forcing him to leave tonight. He bought bus and train tickets to reach another Estate, along with clothes using an anonymous name. He made sure the shop was near the last train station so that he could change the moment he got to the Estate. He also got himself a much less fancy pair of glasses that he was already wearing. As for the money, he took as much from his account as he could carry, hoping to set a new one to remove any possible suspicion.

Everything was ready. He just needed to go.

And yet…

He started pacing and biting his nails, full of doubt. Should he really do this ? Could he really do this ? This had to be the biggest decision of his entire life ! Was it truly what he wished ? It wasn’t like he had it bad here. He had all the possessions he wanted ! And his parents were good people who wanted what was best for the Estate and for him.

But at the same time, he didn’t feel fulfilled here. He always felt like none of his actions mattered, like nobody would ever care about who he was as a person. The court only wanted to see a perfect royal figure out of him. They never cared about who he was on the inside, about what he liked, what he did and didn’t enjoy.

As for his parents…His father was always working and only talked to him if it had anything to do with the Estate or his profession. Or it would be to reprimand him for not being good enough. And while his mother spent more time caring for him, most of the time, it felt like she was mostly worried due to his accident-prone tendencies.

Being accident-prone…another reason not to leave. As long as he stayed here, he could be safe. But was all that safety really worth staying locked up ? And why wouldn’t he be able to survive on his own ? He lived for twenty-six years for goodness’ sake ! Besides, it wasn’t like anything truly bad ever happened to him. Tripping into bushes or having a vase almost fall on him weren’t going to kill him !

Balthazar looked at his balcony and took a deep breath. His decision was made. It was probably crazy and incredibly stupid, but he was not going to back down now.

He closed his bag and went to leave his room. But as his hand was about to touch the automatic panel, his thoughts went back on his parents. Guilt started to settle in. They were kind and fair people who truly loved him. They didn’t deserve to be left in the dark. The soon-to-be-ex prince went to a drawer and took out pen and paper.

Dear Mother, dear Father.

I’m sorry.

Throughout my entire life, you raised me for one purpose : to be the future ruler of the Cavendish Estate, to make our province rich and prosperous.

But ever since my childhood, I showed reticence over my duties. I always wished for a different life.

I found a

Several years ago, I discovered a hole in the garden’s walls. I used it ever since every time I had enough free-time. I learned a lot about the outside world and all the kind of people that live out there. And I wish to join them.

Tonight. This is what I have decided to do. By the time you find this letter, I will be far away.

Please do not try to find me. I have no desire to remain a prince. I do not deserve to be called a prince.

I hope you will be able to forgive me for this. Believe me when I say I have no desire to hurt you. I love both of you dearly and I always will.

May you be able to move forwards and keep the Estate in its current glory.

My deepest love,

Balthazar Tiberius Cavendish, former heir of the Cavendish Estate

He read the letter several times. After all, this was the very last time he would ever interact with his parents. He could already picture their reaction after finding the letter, their desire to call every Estate they can think of to try finding him. His father would be furious. His mother would be devastated.

…He hoped that one day, they would understand.

…

With a heavy heart, he put the letter on the nightstand. He then took out his crown to put with it.

“Goodbye.”, he whispered, eyes on the crown. He then looked at the time, making sure a permutation was near, and left the room.

Balthazar navigated from bush to bush, avoiding any places where guards were present. Lucky for him, he studied their routines long enough to know where to go and, soon enough, he found himself in front of the plants hiding the crack in the wall. He crossed the plants, found his cloak, put it on and stood in front of the crack.

Sometimes, he wondered how nobody found out about it besides him. He assumed it was a lack of foresight from the gardeners and guards. As for his parents never realizing he was gone, their lack of investment in anything but his royal duties seemed like the most logical explanation.

As he looked at the forest on the other side of the wall, he found himself hesitating again. But he had to remain brave. There was no going back now.

He took a deep breath, and crossed the familiar crack for the very last time.

Despite having crossed it a hundred times, the feelings he felt that time were like no other. There was a new sense of excitement, making him feel lighter than the breeze. For the first time in his entire life, he felt in peace. That was when he knew he had made the right decision.

Once he reached the other side, he opened his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He started smiling, then laughing, feeling immense joy course through him. He did it ! He was free !

“Is anybody here ?”

Balthazar immediately covered his mouth and put himself against the wall, cursing himself mentally. Blast ! Of course he was still very far from being out of trouble !

“Albert ? was that you ?”

“Did you call for me ?”

“I believe I heard something near the wall.”

“It’s probably the wind. I just came from here and there’s nobody on sight.”

“Are you sure ? Just because nobody in years tried to invade doesn’t mean it can’t happen. You know some folks started to oppose the court. We wouldn’t be out there if it wasn’t the case.”

“You’re right. Let’s call for team West to investigate closer to the mansion. We’ll take the walls.”

“Alright. Let’s get to the communicator.”

Balthazar waited until he couldn’t hear their footsteps and bolted away, taking the path he knew to be cameras-free. Now it was time for phase two.

The next few hours were extremely tense for Balthazar. His future wasn’t truly into his own hands yet. It would only take one person going into his room before morning to ruin his entire plan.

He took the bus to the closest station, then the train, ignoring all the odd looks people were giving him. It sure was hard for a hooded figure to stay discreet during the night. Lucky for him, the vehicles were driven by robots, so nobody forced him to show his face.

He spent the travel in train looking out the window. Upon reaching the border and seeing the “Now leaving the Cavendish Estate” sign, he felt an odd sense of sadness, almost like nostalgia.

And yet, he was smiling.

It was almost dawn when he reached the Stanmar Estate. It was one of the five Estates unknown or ignored by most, due to their difficulty to rise back after the Fallout. Nobody would look for him here.

After getting off the train, he hurried to the clothes shop. Luckily, they had an automatic system to give out orders anytime. All that was needed was money and a password. Balthazar was glad he didn’t have to talk to anyone. How do you explain a man with thousand in cash but not even owning a phone ? And let’s not forget his dialect. He would have to learn to speak in more familiar terms if he didn’t want to bring unwanted attention to himself.

Balthazar went to an alley, changed clothes, and disposed of his royal outfit with fire. As he watched the clothes burn, the same feelings from before resurfaced, this time mixed with excitement. He truly was free now.

He wondered what to do with the cloak and ultimately decided to burn it as well. It was part of the past. He didn’t need to hide his face anymore.

His new clothes were much more comfortable than he expected. After wearing a tight outfit for years, it felt like a nice change of pace. Pleased with himself, he left the alley.

The first ray of sunshine started to show as the blonde walked with confidence in the town, his plans in mind. He would have to find an apartment and get a job. Maybe he should work into a law firm since he had the experience. He also needed to buy a lot of essentials he had been forced to leave behind, like a phone or a computer and of course a lot of bathroom products. Finally, he needed a bank account, and to get his driver license.

But most importantly, he needed to sign up to the closest school of time-travel. He would start as quickly as possible. Besides, the sooner he was an agent, the better. While he knew people wouldn’t recognize him here, as common folks never learned the names of far Estates, let alone the appearance of their rulers, having a lawyer bearing his name could definitely be suspicious. If he was a time-agent, it could take longer to make a connection.

Balthazar took a deep breath and smiled happily. It was a new day, the start of an entirely new chapter of his life. No longer would he feel like a pawn, getting shaped the way other people wanted. Now he was going to be his own man ! A savior, like Mr. Elmont ! Like the great Professor Time ! People would remember the name Balthazar Tiberius Cavendish as the one of a hero ! For all the missions he accomplished by himself ! He would become a top agent! A savior of the world !

Balthazar jumped in excitement. He couldn’t wait to get started !

-------------------------

Note : Well, here’s the first part ! Thanks for reading ! I hope I didn’t go too OOC with Cavendish here, but in my defense, it is a younger version of him who doesn’t know much about the real world, so he’s a bit idealistic (and he got one hell of a reality check after leaving). I also hope that I didn’t hammer his point of view with the whole “wishing to do something of his life” side. Also, yes, he’s gay in this story (rip Hildegard). And yes, he’s a twink with a few kinks. There ! I said it and I assume it ! (I’m actually very ashamed of that part with Cav talking about his ideal man. But at least I see him grow more or less out of this view of toxic masculinity as what a perfect man should look like. And by that I mean that it would still be his type of guy, but he’d learn to get attached to men even if they didn’t fit this type).

And is Cavendish autistic in this ? Honestly I’m not sure. Thing is, I’m writing Cav with the habits he has in the show (though I yet have to make him say “huzza !” in one of my fics), and those habits can be read as autistic. Same for his interest towards time-travel and Professor Time that in this chapter can be read as a special interest. But at the same time, him being so interested by the travel and the outside world is mostly due to how dull and boring his life is, so he gets excited by the things he doesn’t know.

So overall, I guess it can be read as both autistic and not; but I’m not writing him with the intention to insist about him being autistic, the same way I won’t do research on autistic behavior in opposition to how I started looking up info about children with ADHD for the next chapter.

And a word about this chapter : I know that there are a few plot conveniences there and there, especially at the end with the escape, but I tried to make them as cohesive with the story as possible or make them related to future technology, so I hope it doesn’t take people out of the story. Though I guess the inaccuracies with how royalty works is what is the most likely to take people out of the story.

As for Cav’s parents, I hope I was descriptive enough. But if you want more info about their appearance, don’t hesitate to ask ! Just don’t expect a drawing since I can’t draw to save my life 😅. And for their names, after looking up British names I decided to settle with Victoria and William but maybe it could change ? I mean I’m pretty sure William has something to do with the current royal family but I don’t know shit about the British royal family. I didn’t really look anything up about them since this chapter has more of a made-up royalty.

Thanks again for reading and stay tuned for chapter two, in which, after learning about the prince, we’re now jumping into the life of the pauper !

#Milo Murphy's Law #mml #Balthazar Cavendish #my fanfics #As Time Passes #Cav be like :#'aren't you tired of being nice ?#don't you want to go apeshit ?'#hope this chapter is good !#it sure was longer than expected #and yet it still feels like it goes too fast #oh well #now time to wonder how long chapter two will be #As Time Passes Prologue

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kyubicled · 3 years

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"King Jaehaerys would reign the longest of any Targaryen king, and while he sat the Iron Throne, the realm knew a time of unrivaled prosperity and unabated tranquility. Whilst this history is meant to be focused upon the Spartan and the Starks, it is important to remember that King Jaehaerys I was greatly influenced by the Spartan and the Maiden's work, and is thus relevant to understanding the full measure of just how those two enigmatic figures have so thoroughly changed the realm as a whole. Though the first few years were spent in repairing the damage Maegor the Cruel had done to the realm, and reconciling with the Faith as well as the North, this was only the beginning of a long, illustrious career for the monarch. Once he had secured peace for the realm, he instituted massive reforms to the system of taxation, which while unpopular at the time, helped to fill the royal coffers and fuel the Conciliator's future endeavors.

The first, and arguably his most ambitious project, was the construction of the Realmroad; the vast, expansive network of paved highways criss crossing throughout the realm. The inspiration of this mighty endeavor could be attributed to the famous tour of the North that Jaehaerys and his sister-wife, Good Queen Alysannee, shared early in their reign. The North had, for thousands of years, been the most advanced of all the Seven Kingdoms, due to the great knowledge passed to them from the Maiden of Light. One of the greatest technological feats of the North was it's ancient and famous system of paved roads, which had been built three thousand years prior over the course of the reigns of three Kings in the North; King Rickard the Road-Layer, King Yoren the Road-Paver, and King Robbart the Road-Finisher--and was further expanded by subsequent generations. From the Nightfort to Moat Cailin, from the Rills to the Karhold, from Deepwood Motte to Widow's Watch, this vast system of roads stretched from coast to coast, connecting all but the most remote of the North's holdings, all leading back to that grand and old capitol of the North, Winterfell itself. While it was an immense undertaking, and an undoubtedly even more laborious task to keep it maintained, the Northerners had discovered that keeping the roads in good order promoted trade and travel unparalleled across the north, giving rise not only to great wealth, but also the migration of peoples to found settlements along the roads. Towns which, over the centuries, only grew in number and size, some eventually becoming large enough to be called cities in their own right. White Harbor was the great port of the North, conducting a great deal of trade with the South, the Free Cities, and even as far as Qarth and the Jade Sea; and is home to the great Manderly fleet, the largest and most fearsome of the Western world. The town surrounding Winterfell had long since expanded into an outright city centuries before, it's thatched huts and hovels transformed into great stone houses. While not quite as large as other cities in the North, it was still easily seen as it's crown jewel--ancient, austere, and glorious.

But undoubtedly the most incredible of these cities was known simply to the Northerners as the Dawntown, which surrounded the fabled Forward Unto Dawn. Many ages past, according to the histories of the North, the Forward Unto Dawn had been a center of unrivaled production, which had helped the Starks make the North the greatest kingdom of the West. However, most of it's strange machines had long since fallen silent, and the Northerners so revered it that they refused to disturb the great structure of steel save to preserve it from the ravages of time--indeed, to attempt to enter it without the consent of the King in the North is a crime punishable by beheading even today. The city surrounding the hallowed structure was, and arguably still is, the largest in Westeros. While not as beautiful as Winterfell, nor as wealthy as White Harbor, it is undoubtedly the most vibrant and bustling settlement in all the West. Here, the Spartan and the Maiden's influence is felt most strongly. A city of great peculiarity, it is singular in the fact that it is, in fact, not subject to the Starks of Winterfell. Bran the Builder had supposedly granted the land surrounding the Dawn to the Spartan, that he might rule in his own right and not be made subject to any lord or king. Regardless, the Starks maintain that the Dawntown is wholly independent of their rule, though the city-state had nonetheless sworn allegiance to the Starks. In the walls of the Dawntown, all men, regardless of station or birth, are treated as equals before the Spartan's Law, a truly progressive and comprehensive legal code which reigns supreme over the whole city. Maesters, scholars, artisans, physicians, and men of all walks of learning travel from the four corners of the known world to study and congregate here, basking in the wisdom of the Aglow Lady, who left behind countless tomes of knowledge, all of which are securely and safely cataloged and kept in the Great Library--a depository of knowledge equaled only by the Citadel's, though many claim the knowledge of the Dawntown is less fragmented and more impartial than that of the masters of Oldtown.

Awed by the sights they saw there, Jaehaerys and Alysanne were eager to bring similar prosperity to the South, and they began regularly corresponding with King Brandon Stark, who would come to be one of their closest friends. With his financial support as well as the aid of the latter's road-workers, Jaehaerys began the project of building the Realmroad, a task which would not be completed until well after his death and well into the reign of his grandson, Viserys I. Jaehaerys, with the council of his good friend and Hand of the King, Septon Barth, also oversaw the construction of a great system of sewers, likewise inspired by the Northerners' advances in sanitation. King Jaehaerys had learned from the tomes the Maiden had left him that the cleanliness of a city was paramount to making it prosperous--he had only to see the difference between the North's cities and the Souths to see that truth. In the first century since it's founding, King's Landing was a far-cry from the austerity of Winterfell, nor as rich as White Harbor, nor as bustling as the Dawntown; but Jaehaerys endeavored to make it of nevertheless equal state to them. It was an arduous, tedious task, as it required in many cases the utter demolition of entire sections of the city, but here, too, King Brandon came to his aid, loaning great sums of money to the Targaryen coffers to see to the restitution of those dispossessed of their homes, and commissioning the Dawntown to quarry the materials Jaehaerys would come to need. It was a great expenditure to the whole realm, and took the better part of the Old King's reign to undertake, but when all was done, King's Landing was nearly unrecognizable; the stench of human waste had evaporated, and the outbreaks of sickness dramatically fell in frequency. Much more of the city was comprised of stone buildings as well, and in no time at all, King's Landing had become the crown jewel of the South, truly a capitol worthy of a great dynasty.

With this openness between the North and South came also the spreading of knowledge. Jaehaerys, more than likely inspired by the Dawntown's governance and the idea of a intellectual court, filled his own with scholars, maesters, artisans, and doctors, and was a great patron to both the Order of Maesters and the Night's Watch. Merit, rather than birth, had become the standard by which to earn the king's favor, and while many nobles balked at this, none could deny it did the realm a great service, as the Conciliator and his court brought about the greatest period of plenty the realm had ever known, and a time when the North and South worked more closely than ever before, as well as the time where relations between the two were warmer than ever before.

This golden age would carry on after the Old King passed on after many years on the throne. The full fruits of his labors would ripen during the reign of his grandson and heir, King Viserys I, who completed his grand-sire's endeavor of building the Realmroad, and would come to rule the Five Kingdoms at the very height of the Targaryen dynasty's power. But in the shining brilliance of this time of prosperity and peace, Viserys had been blinded to the division within his own court that came late in his reign. As to the events of what happened during the Dance of Dragons, the Targaryen civil war which had nearly destroyed the realm, a comprehensive history by Grand Maester Munkun does exist, which details the events in the broader scope of the war. For the sake of the relevance of this particular history, the focus of which being the Starks and the Spartan during this time, we shall primarily focus on the actions of the North and the Master Chief during the Dance. Both the Black and Green factions had feared from the beginning an intervention by the Starks on behalf of the opposing side, and were terrified even more the possibility of escalating such a war between the realms to the point it would warrant the Starks to call on the Spartan to aid them. For though the Targaryens counted in all seventeen dragons--the highest number they would ever reach--the memory of the Spartan slaying two of the mightiest of all their mounts, Vhaegar and Balerion the Black Dread themselves; and of the humiliating and decisive defeats he rendered unto both Aegon the Conqueror and to his son, Maegor the Cruel, had haunted the Targaryens to that day. Covetous of the North's superior armies, both Princess Rhaenyra and King Aegon dispatched envoys to ask for his aid. Rhaenyra's eldest son, Jacaerys Velaryon, flew on dragonback to Winterfell, and plead his mother's case to King Cregan Stark, the Old Man of the North. Earlier that very morning, however, he had received a raven from King's Landing in which King Aegon asked for his support in securing the peace for all Westeros.

It must have been by no means an easy decision for the King in the North, who was reluctant to involve his people in another squabble in the South. Yet he felt some familial sentiment for the boy before him, as he was descended from the only child of Queen Wylanna, a daughter who alone of all her siblings had survived Maegor's cruelty, and married into the Velaryon line following the ascension of Jaehaerys I, and thus giving the following Lords of the Driftmark, and subsequently Prince Jacaerys himself, distant kinship to the Starks. Jacaerys even vowed that a daughter of House Targaryen would wed a son of House Stark, in a proposed Second Pact of Ice and Fire. Unsure of what to do, but knowing his decision would be crucial to the future of the North, King Cregan chose in that moment to follow in his grandfather Benjen's wisdom, and entered the halls of the Forward Unto Dawn, to seek the Spartan and the Aglow Lady's council. When he reemerged, he declared that the North would remain neutral, though he did dispatch ravens of his own to both Dragonstone and the Red Keep, calling on both claimants to the Iron Throne to settle the matter in a Great Council and resolve the succession in a peaceful manner.

But the infamous death of Rhaenyra's second eldest son at the hands of Aemond Targaryen, and the retaliatory murder of Aegon's eldest son and heir, would shatter any notion of peace between the Blacks and Greens, and soon all the South was awash in dragonflame as the dynastic dispute transformed into a war of annihilation. Cregan's decision to stay out of the war would earn him some derision from his vassals, but would ultimately prove to leave the North untouched by the conflict. But as more refugees came flooding in from the South, and reports of the Targaryens' dragons burning and sacking the countryside become increasingly dire, Cregan could not help but feel pity for the smallfolk, and became convinced that something had to be done to end the violence in the South. For the second time, he entered the Forward Unto Dawn, and news quickly spread that the Warrior Made Flesh and the Maiden of Light had emerged from their slumber, and coming out the Dawntown's great ironwood gates, led at their head by the Spartan himself, was an army unlike any Westeros had ever seen. For the soldiers which marched from the Great Arsenal carried weapons of unprecedented might called 'muskets', and even larger, monstrous contraptions called 'cannons'. Both of which appeared to be archaic imitations of the Spartan's legendary thunder weapons and the great war machines he rode into battle, respectively. The science behind these weapons remains a closely guard enigma of the Dawntown to this day, much to the consternation, dread, and envy of the rest of the known world--for any attempt to learn it's secrets have led only to the vanishing of many spies, and the consternation of many a blacksmith or maester attempting to unlock it's secrets. The Spartan marched this force south to the Neck, gathering along the way a force of Northerners eager to march south with him to ease the burdens of their families in the coming winter, who would become known as the Rogue Wolves. Upon arriving south of the Neck, near the Twins, he declared he had come to defend the people of the South from further suffering at the hands of the squabbling dragonlords, demanding each side to reach an armistice and end the violence immediately, and that any further harm done to the smallfolk would result in him bringing an end to the fighting on his own terms--namely, defeating both the blacks as well as the greens.

Publicly, Cregan never endorsed the Spartan's actions, indeed decrying it as an unlawful and unauthorized move on the Spartan's part, though many believe he may have had a hand in the events, as he made no move to stop the Spartan, nor punished the men who had followed him into war.

Almost predictably, the Targaryens' vainglory got the better of them, in spite of the initial terror they felt at the news of the Spartan's return, and went right back to their warring. At this point in the Dance of the Dragons, Rhaenyra had just suffered a defeat at the Battle of Rook's Rest, and had planned to ship her two younger sons off to the Free Cities for their protection. However, enemies of her husband from the Kingdom of the Three Daughters had intercepted them, and only her nine-year-old son, Aegon, had managed to escape on the back of his wounded and dying dragon, while his younger brother Viserys had been made a captive. Prince Jacaerys himself rode off on his dragon Vermax to rescue his brother, and led the Velaryon fleet against the enemy. There, his dragon was caught by grapnels and dragged into the sea, and nearly drowned. He himself would have met his end at the hands of Myrish crossbowmen if not the waves taking him to a watery grave... when a terrible roar filled the air. To the utter shock of all, the Spartan had flown his great Steel Bird from out of the sky, using his armaments to soundly crush every ship which dared to oppose him, before lowering his ship and rescuing Jacaerys from the Blackwater, and freeing his dragon from the driftwood and netting which trapped him. It is unknown why the Spartan chose to save the boy's life--some speculate Cregan had asked it of him, in remembrance of their shared blood, while other state it was simply the Spartan's nobility that caused him to rescue the young prince. The Spartan then used his flying machine to scour the fleet of the Three Daughters, cutting his way through hundreds of men with a small band of hand-picked soldiers at his side, until he found and rescued also the young Prince Viserys, and then immediately flew to Dragonstone, where a stunned, confused, but ultimately relieved Rhaenyra was returned her two sons. But the Spartan did not stay to hear her gratitude for his bold rescue, immediately flying back into the battle, where he turned the tide in the blacks' favor single-handed, and prevented the greens' fleet from sacking the Driftmark. After ensuring the Gullet was safe, and the sorry remnants of the enemy was well on their way back across the Narrow Sea, he then left without another word.

News of the Spartan's intervention at the Battle of the Gullet soon spread, and the greens became panicked at the notion of the Spartan seeming in favor of the blacks. With Aegon burnt, broken, and poppy-addled from his injuries sustained at Rook's Rest, Prince Aemond and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Criston Cole, immediately marched north, and after securing Harrenhal, marched further to face the Spartan's army--when baffling news reached them. Reports came in that an army of riverlords, led by Elmo Tully, had mustered at Riverrun and was on their way to meet Aemond and Cole's host in battle... only for the Spartan's army to halt them, before scattering them to the four winds. As Elmo was a supporter of Rhaenyra, it astounded and confused the greens as to why the Spartan would thwart an army loyal to the blacks. The truth of what had happened was that the riverlords, on their march, had turned to pillaging many villages to sustain their army, as well as sacking whatever holdfasts had not declared for Rhaenyra, even burning fields to deprive the greens of crops and food. When word had spread to Riverrun of the Spartan's intervention off the coast of Dragonstone, Elmo had assumed the Spartan had declared for the blacks, and therefore marched with confidence to meet the greens' host. However, when word had reached the Spartan of the riverlords' beleaguering of the smallfolk, he immediately wheeled his army around and confronted them, demanding they disband and return to their homes, as well as surrender all persons and spoils they had taken from the people. When Elmo and his men refused, and instead demanded the Spartan swear allegiance to the blacks' cause, the latter set his army against the former. The following clash, remembered today as the Battle for the Crossroads, was a battle only in name--more accurately, it was butchers work. The riverlords outnumbered the Spartan's smaller army by nearly one-and-half, and whereas Elmo commanded a cavalry force of over a hundred knights and four-hundred mounted men-at-arms, the Spartan had no cavalry whatsoever. Elmo thus thought to simply rush the Spartan with his sheer numbers, and advanced his infantry forward. This was the first mistake Elmo Tully would make that day. As soon as his foot were within range, the Spartan unleashed his cannons, blasting into the riverlords' ranks with explosive missiles and tearing apart their vanguard with seven devastating volleys. What few unfortunate or foolhardy riverfolk who pressed forward were met with the thunder of musket fire, and many men, terrified of these new weapons and of the fact they had not even reached the enemy without being torn to shreds, turned tail and fled. Elmo, seeing that his infantry was on the verge of collapsing into a mass rout, gathered together the whole of his cavalry, and charged the Spartan in a great thunder of heavy horse, steel plate, and all the chivalry of the Trident.

It would avail him nothing but the death of many riverlords. The Spartan's cannons bombarded the Tully cavalry, killing lords and knights with the same brutality as they had with their levies. Even worse, the horses were frightened by the noise of the cannons, and crashed into one another in panic, causing terrible disorder and killing many in the charge. Then came the musket-fire, which tore through steel armor and horse like parchment, wreaking even more devastation and havoc on Elmo's cavalry. When the riverlords finally closed in, they sought to at last take their revenge on the Spartan's men, believing their lack of pikes and spears would make the Spartan's army easy prey for the stampede of red steel and war horses. But then, as they came to bear down upon the Spartan's center, they saw that the musketeers had fixed long blades upon the ends of their thunder weapons, which, combined with their tight formation into squares, negated any and all advantages the riverlords' cavalry possessed. For their horses refused to charge into the bristling lines of blades, and their armor availed them not against musket-fire. Elmo and many of his knights were cut down or captured, and seeing the best of their knights so utterly devastated, the rest of the Tully army routed, fleeing for the hills and forests and back to their homes. A score of noble houses were ended that day, torn and pierced and blown to pieces alongside the levies they had march to war. Among those few who were captured was Kermit Tully, son of Elmo, and, with the death of his father, the new Lord of Riverrun. The Spartan treated the young lord with surprising mercy and respect, tending to his wounds as well as the wounds of what Rivermen lay wounded in the battle that had not been slain, and granting merciful ends to those too far gone to be saved. Shortly after, he made a pact with Kermit--in exchange for the young lord putting up his sword and disbanding his armies, and allowing his men to return home, the Spartan would release Kermit as well as all other prisoners taken, and would march south to defend the Riverlands from the greens, who would doubtlessly seek to consolidate the Trident for the cause of Aegon, and put the riverlords to the sword for siding with the blacks. Kermit, left with little other choice, agreed to the terms, and returned to Riverrun shortly after. Many noble houses of the Trident would despise the Spartan for years to come for the humiliation and devastation he rendered them that day, but the smallfolk would remember that he had gone to war on their behalf, and at every turn took pains to see to their safety and survival, as he brought great amounts of food to replace that which their lords had deprived them, and saw to the safe return of their fighting men, whom he sought out in the wilderness and guided back to their homes as best he could, as well as helping to train and outfit them to defend their villages.

The greens, upon hearing of these accounts, were wary as to the intentions of the Spartan, and could not discern to which side he had taken in the war--for while he had come to the blacks' aid in the Battle of the Gullet, his victory over the riverlords had doubtlessly aided the cause of the greens. Ser Criston Cole felt it best to avoid engaging the Spartan, and to depart south and aid the Hightowers in their campaign in the Reach. Prince Aemond, though, believed that the Spartan had to be dealt with, to ensure he did not interfere further in their war, as well as to prove the strength of the greens over the blacks by dispatching the enemy that the riverlords had failed to overcome. But regardless of what course they intended to take, dark news reached them: Rhaenyra had descended on King's Landing with her dragon, and had claimed the defenseless capitol as her own. In a black rage, Aemond mounted his dragon, known to history only as Cannibal, and rain fire and death down onto the countryside. Cole, unable to stop him, marched the army back towards the capitol, intent on retaking it from the blacks, but feared that Aemond's reckless fury would only invite the Spartan's wrath. He would be proven right not even a week later, when the Spartan tracked down Aemond and Cannibal in his Steel Bird near Fairmarket, as the Prince intended to set it aflame with dragonfire. Aemond arrogantly sought to triumph where his greater sires had failed, and chose to meet the Master Chief in battle when all sense dictated he flee like the Seven Devils were upon him. Surely enough, the Spartan handily defeated them, his thunder weapons tearing through one of Cannibal's wings, and sent both dragon and rider plummeting into the Blue Fork--an end seen by many as all too fitting, as it was the same fate he had inflicted upon his cousin, Prince Lucerys Velaryon. Whether or not the crash had killed him, or if he drowned in the Blue Fork's waters, is unknown; but smallfolk downriver would find his bloated corpse days later, still strapped in his riding chains atop his dead dragon. They stripped him of his armor and silks, and dumped his naked body back into the river whilst they carved his dragon to make a feast of it's flesh and a fortune of it's scales and bones.

The Spartan would remain in the Riverlands, seeing to it's defense and overseeing shipments of food, supplies, and munitions being sent from the Dawntown down the Kingsroad. The Old King's commitment to the construction of the Realmroad would greatly benefit the Spartan's cause, ensuring that the smallfolk were given food and goods where needed, and that his army was replenished of their necessities. And true to his word to Kermit Tully, he took up the task of defending the Riverlands when an army of westermen, led by Jason Lannister, a supporter of the greens, came from the River Road with the intent of taking the Trident in King Aegon's name. But the Spartan had no intention of meeting the Lannister host on their own terms. Instead, in a feat of daring and audacity, he came upon Jason's host in the dead of night, accompanied by but two of his most trusted men, riding in his great battle carriage known as the 'Warthog'. Using the great thunder weapon mounted atop it, they smashed into Jason's camp, causing great mayhem and barreling through as swift as the north wind, until they came across Jason's pavilion, which the Spartan hurled two of his thunder-stones into. In an instant, Jason was killed, and in the mayhem so too were several of his chief commanders. Before the Lannister host could properly retaliate, the Spartan had fled, leaving the whole of the Westerlands shaken and in disarray in one terrible moment. The westerlords still chose to press on, hoping to avenge the death of their liege lord, but when they came to bear against the Spartan's army at the Battle of Wayfarer's Rest, they met the same fate as Elmo Tully--all the more impounded by their lack of leadership--and the Lannister army was sent reeling back in a chaotic rout towards Casterly Rock. Instead of pursuing the shattered Lannister host, where he likely could have pressed as far as Lannisport and lay siege to Casterly Rock itself with no significant resistance, the Master Chief remained in the Riverlands, content to have merely repelled the invaders. Indeed, he wrote to the now-widowed Lady Johanna Lannister, and offered a truce with House Lannister provided they withdraw their support of the greens. As an incentive, he released all captives taken during the battle, and also forewarned her that Dalton Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, was likely to attack the now-weakened Westerlands. At first, she wished only to avenge her husband's death at his hands, and did not heed his warning, which would cost the Westerlands dearly when the Red Kraken fell upon Lannisport and sacked it, and proceeded to raid the coasts with no significant force to stop him. When the smallfolk of the Westerlands cried out for the Spartan to come and save them, however, Johanna relented, and called for his aid in halting the Iron Fleet. It is inferred that she recognized House Lannister was in desperate need of allies, and with the greens more concerned with battling the blacks to the south-east, and the Lannister army scattered, the Master Chief stood as the only local force capable of stopping the ironborn raids, and that if she did not act, the people would have likely rebelled against Casterly Rock and turn to the Spartan for protection, as he had so ably and reliably done so for the Riverlands.

The Red Kraken at first only laughed when he heard the Spartan was coming to stop him, not believing in the legends of how the Spartan had summoned a great storm to sink the ironborn in ages long past. The Spartan would correct him as he swept up and down the Westerland coast, using his Steel Bird to attack any ironborn ships it could find, thwarting raids on coastal villages and reclaiming territories the ironborn had seized, rescuing captives taken into thralldom, and sending many ironborn back into the sea and down to their Drowned God. The Spartan gave a single warning to Lord Dalton, ordering him to turn his fleet back to the Iron Isles and cease his attacks on the coast. When Dalton refused, the Spartan hunted him down and slew him in single combat. In an occurrence far too convenient for many to believe was mere coincidence, King Cregan Stark dispatched Lord Mormont and his great fleet southward from Bear Island, under the pretext that he did not wish to leave the Northern shores at risk of the now-unleashed ironborn. Carried aboard that fleet was a formidable army and siege equipment doubtlessly meant to take the Iron Islands while their fighting men were away. Between the string of defeats the Spartan rendered them, the bitter power struggle that followed the death of Lord Dalton, and the threat of a Northern invasion, the ironborn at last conceded to peace, and withdrew back to the Iron Islands, with nothing but bitterness and humiliation for spoils to take home.

With the Riverlands, Westerlands, and Iron Islands pacified, the Spartan had greatly reduced the strength of both the greens and the blacks, and both sides were now terrified of what his next move would be. As more and more lords struck their banners and laid down their arms, and as more and more of the realm came to know peace, the Spartan's honor and his commitment to protecting those caught in the fires of war made him a hero to the smallfolk, while the causes of both Rhaenyra and Aegon were seen in increasingly negative lights, the devastation caused by the Dance of Dragons doing nothing to endear either to the people. Princess Rhaenyra, perhaps sensing this, dispatched her son, Prince Jacaerys, to treat with him. On his mother's behalf, he offered the Master Chief lavish sums of gold, the hand of a future Targaryen princess, and even to nominate him to the station of Protector of the Realm if he would aid her cause, citing she only wished to restore peace to the realm. The Spartan famously retorted to the prince that, if Rhaenyra had truly wished for peace, she would have listened to King Cregan's advice by meeting with Aegon at a Great Council, and settled the succession peacefully, rather than drag out the war and inflicting more suffering on the people, before sending the prince back to King's Landing with a firm refusal to take either side in the war. Rhaenyra reportedly trembled with rage at the Spartan's rebuttal at her offer, and at the perceived insult of her warmongering. But she had more pressing matters to attend to--the Hightowers had taken the city of Tumbleton with the aid of two turncloak dragonriders, while King's Landing itself was being laid siege to by Criston Cole. Another dragon rider came to meet with the Spartan--this time, Prince Daemon Targaryen, the Rouge Prince, and Rhaenyra's husband. He told the Spartan of how Cole would take the capitol if he did not intervene, and of the butchery Cole's men would undoubtedly mete out upon the inhabitants of the city if they breached the gates. The Spartan knew this was merely an attempt by the blacks to have him destroy their enemies, but nevertheless felt that the inhabitants of King's Landing should not be made to suffer any more than they already had due to the war, and ultimately agreed to march his army to the relief of the capitol. The Spartan's arrived ahead of his army alone, but Cole knew he had little hope of winning a battle against both the Spartan and Rhaenyra's dragons, the latter of which which had been strangely held back during the siege. Instead, he challenged the Spartan to single combat, stating that they should decide the outcome of the battle with a contest of arms rather than sacrifice thousands of men. On that, the Spartan agreed, and accepted Cole's challenge. Before their duel could begin, however, three of the five dragons in King's Landing were suddenly unleashed, led by Rhaenyra and her husband Daemon, and began incinerating Cole's army. Rhaenyra had laid a trap for both the Spartan and Cole, and hoped that the sheer number of her dragons would succeed where the likes of Belarion the Black Dread and Vhaegar had failed.

They would not.

While Cristen Cole and most of his army were indeed bathed in dragonflame, the Spartan's armor proved impervious to the dragons' fiery breath, and while he had been separated from his Steel Bird and his thunder weapons, he would demonstrate then and there that he had no need of it. First came the unmounted Dreamfyre, who had once been the mount of late Queen Helaena, whom had died but the night before. Perhaps the most tragic confrontation that day, she swooped down low to the ground to snap the Spartan in her jaws, only for him to leap above her, before slamming a crushing kick downwards into her neck, and breaking it and killing her instantly. Then came Daemon, riding his dragon Caraxys, who blew fire down onto the Spartan. The flames proved useless, and the Spartan jumped so high into the air men claimed he seemed to almost fly, and delivered an uppercut which crushed the dragon's throat and sent it falling to the ground. Daemon, who had never fastened his riding chains, leaped from his saddle, and in his hand was Dark Sister, the Valyrian sword of Visenya, Aegon the Dragon's sister-wife. Wildly he swung his sword in the air even as he fell, attempting to land a killing blow on the Spartan, but it was for naught, as even Blackfyre in the hands of Maegor had failed to breech the Spartan's armor. Not even deigning to kill Daemon, the Master Chief simply left the Rogue Prince's fate to the fall, and when all three impacted the ground, Damon and his dragon were both dead, while the Spartan landed on his feet, seemingly unharmed even from so great a fall. When Rhaenyra saw her husband's broken body, a black dread filled her alongside the rage and grief of losing her husband. But another, arguably even worse blow befell her that day--when her two eldest sons saw their mother in peril, they both mounted their dragons and flew to aid her, and joined the fray. Whatever screams Rhaenyra had shouted to save them availed her not over the roars of the dragons, and she could only watch as Princes Jacaerys and Joffrey both met their fates that day, the Spartan slaying their mounts from under them and sending them crashing to the ground.

Whatever Rhaenyra planned next is unknown, as an uprising in King's Landing erupted, led by a man only remembered as the Shepherd. Seeing the Spartan destroy all but one of Rhaenyra's dragons, which the Shepherd had convinced the people were monstrous demons, the smallfolk rioted in the streets and chanted the Spartan's name. They demanded vengeance for Queen Helaena and her murdered sons, under belief their beloved Queen had been likewise killed by Rhaenyra, and proceeded to overwhelm the goldcloaks and black soldiers in the city with sheer numbers and madness. First flinging open the Dragon Gate to welcome the Spartan as their savior, as he had been decades before when he ended the tyranny of Maegor, they called on him to once more save them, this time from 'Maegor's Teats'. Realizing that only two precious sons remained her, the princes Aegon and Viserys, and that the city was all but lost, Rhaenyra flew her dragon Syrax back to the Red Keep, before fleeing to Dragonstone with the two of them, abandoning the city and all of her supporters therein. Within a few hours, the Spartan's army caught up to their leader, and with their help, the Master Chief quelled the riots, restored order, and peacefully occupied the city. The smallfolk rejoiced, hailing him a liberator, and as they had when he had slain Maegor, again pleaded he take the Iron Throne and proclaim himself king. But he again refused to take the crown, stating he had come to protect the people, not rule them--even though, in the eyes of many, he would have made a great king. He instead busied himself with helping to undo the damages inflicted on the capitol over the course of the war, as he and the Algow Lady worked with the Small Council in the re-opening roads, rebuilding damaged properties, attending to the sick, poor, and injured, and helping to see food delivered to the city. Once the city was in good order, he then marched his army west to confront the green army camped in the ruins of Tumbleton. When the Spartan saw the atrocious state of the city, and of the reprehensible behavior of the green army, he demanded they lay down their immediate surrender. Ser Ulys White and Ser Hugh Hammer, the traitorous dragonseeds whom had turned their allegiance and saw to the city's fall to the greens, both refused and instead mounted their dragons to challenge the Spartan. The greens mourned little when he dispatched them as he had all the dragon riders before them, as the dragonseeds were not much loved by them, and they themselves were terrified of the Spartan's fury, and the green army disbanded. The Spartan only returned to the capitol after he had seen to the pacification of any and all black forces remaining in the Reach, but when he returned, he found the long-missing King Aegon II camped outside the city walls.

The Spartan learned that he had been spirited away to Dragonstone when Rhaenyra had claimed the capitol, and when she had returned to House Targaryen's ancestral seat, his men, whom had secretly occupied Dragonstone since, captured her, while his wounded and dying dragon Sunfyre had fallen upon Syrax, killing her with the aid of his men, before he turned Sunfyre on Rhaenyra herself, and the once gleaming and magnificent dragon bathed her in a blast of dragonflame before swallowing her whole, whilst her two sons were made to watch as their mother was devoured right in front of them. King Aegon believed his victory was total, and sailed to King's Landing and sit on the Iron Throne. But the city's gates were closed to him, and with no dragons and scarcely an army left, he could not hope to take it. Enraged that even with his half-sister dead he was still barred his perceived birthright, Aegon demanded the Spartan surrender the city and bend the knee to him, or else he would call on an army of sellswords from the Free Cities, and take it by force.

No one knows for certain why the Spartan did what he did next. Some believe it was Aegon's arrogance, or the threat of seeing the capitol sacked, or the barbarity he had inflicted on Rhaenyra's sons by forcing them to watch their mother's gruesome death, or perhaps it was the simple desire to see the war ended there and then. What is known is that, as Aegon stood before him, and before he had even finished his tirade of threats and demands, the Spartan suddenly struck Aegon with a slap to the face, except his otherworldly strength afforded his backhand slap to Aegon's cheek with such inhuman force that Aegon's entire head jerked violently to the side, and a loud, sickening crack filled the air, his neck broken instantly. Thus died Aegon II, the second Targaryen king to die at the hands of the Spartan. Following this, the Master Chief immediately took custody of Rhaenyra and Aegon's surviving children, two sons and a single daughter, respectively. Aegon, as the eldest son to survive the Dance of Dragons, would succeed his uncle and sit on the Iron Throne. But until he could come of age, a regency needed to be formed to govern in his stead. The Spartan also sensed that, despite the war's end, the sentiments of the blacks and greens still lingered among many nobles, and he deemed it unsafe for the children to be left vulnerable to the South's intrigues. To those ends, he first assigned seven regents from both sides to govern the Targaryen regime, while the young King Aegon, his brother Prince Viserys, and Aegon's only surviving daughter, Princess Jaehaera, were transported to the North by the Spartan himself, to be fostered by King Cregan Stark until Aegon was old enough to return to the capitol and rule the South in his own right. Aegon would eventually marry Jaehaera to unite the greens and blacks, and the Spartan's medicines saw to it both she and her future children would be healthy and of sound mind. Thus ended the Dance of Dragons, and with it the apex of House Targaryen's might. The period in which Cregan fostered the Targaryen children would be known as the Years of the Wolf, where the North helped to keep the South at peace through the rumor of their force of arms. Cregan would come to be a great influence on Aegon's future rule, and the latter would consider the former something of a second father figure. The Targaryens would have to again rely on an alliance with the Starks to ensure their dominion, as the few Targaryen dragons hatched thereafter would never reach the size of their forbears, indeed dying off during Aegon's reign.

As for the Spartan and the Aglow Lady, the both of them returned to their slumber at the Foreward Unto Dawn after sending their army back to the Dawntown, with the Rogue Wolves coming to live out the winter alongside them. The Spartan would be immortalized with a new moniker for his exploits in the Dance, and for bringing about the end of the age of the great winged beasts of House Targaryen--The Dragonslayer."

--A History of House Stark and the Spartan, Volume III, by Maester Benjymen

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Friday, September 3, 2021

US faith groups unite to help Afghanistan refugees after war (AP) America’s major religions and denominations, often divided on other big issues, have united behind the effort to help receive an influx of refugees from Afghanistan following the end of the United States’ longest war and one of the largest airlifts in history. Among those gearing up to help are Jewish refugee resettlement agencies and Islamic groups; conservative and liberal Protestant churches; and prominent Catholic relief organizations, providing everything from food and clothes to legal assistance and housing. “It’s incredible. It’s an interfaith effort that involved Catholic, Lutheran, Muslim, Jews, Episcopalians ... Hindus ... as well as nonfaith communities who just believe that maybe it’s not a matter of faith, but it’s just a matter of who we are as a nation,” said Krish O’Mara Vignarajah, president and CEO of Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service. The U.S. and its coalition partners have evacuated more than 100,000 people from Afghanistan since the airlift began Aug. 14, including more than 5,400 American citizens and many Afghans who helped the U.S. during the 20-year war.

Hurricane Ida’s aftermath, recovery uneven across Louisiana (AP) In New Orleans, an ongoing power outage after Hurricane Ida is making the sweltering summer unbearable. But in some areas outside the city, that misery is compounded by a lack of water, flooded neighborhoods and severely damaged homes. Four days after Hurricane Ida struck, the storm’s aftermath—and progress in recovering from it—are being felt unevenly across affected communities in Louisiana. In New Orleans, power was restored Wednesday to a small number of homes and businesses, city crews had some streets almost completely cleared of fallen trees and debris and a few corner stores reopened. Outside New Orleans, neighborhoods remained flooded and residents were still reeling from damage to their homes and property. More than 1,200 people were walking through some of Ida’s hardest-hit communities to look for those needing help, according to the Louisiana Fire Marshal’s office.

More than 45 dead after Ida’s remnants blindside Northeast (AP) A stunned U.S. East Coast faced a rising death toll, surging rivers and tornado damage Thursday after the remnants of Hurricane Ida walloped the region with record-breaking rain, drowning more than 40 people in their homes and cars. In a region that had been warned about potentially deadly flash flooding but hadn’t braced for such a blow from the no-longer-hurricane, the storm killed at least 46 people from Maryland to Connecticut on Wednesday night and Thursday morning. In New York, nearly 500 vehicles were abandoned on flooded highways, garbage bobbed in streaming streets and water cascaded into the city’s subway tunnels, trapping at least 17 trains and disrupting service all day. Videos online showed riders standing on seats in swamped cars. All were safely evacuated, with police aiding 835 riders and scores of people elsewhere. The National Weather Service said the ferocious storm also spawned at least 10 tornadoes from Maryland to Massachusetts, including a 150-mph (241 kph) twister that splintered homes and toppled silos in Mullica Hill, New Jersey, south of Philadelphia.

President’s murder inquiry slow amid Haiti’s multiple crises (AP) In the nearly two months since President Jovenel Moïse was assassinated, Haiti has suffered a devastating earthquake and a drenching tropical storm, the twin natural disasters deflecting attention from the man-made one that preceded them. Add the constant worry over deteriorating security at the hands of gangs that by some estimates control territory that’s home to about a fifth of Haiti’s 11 million citizens, and the investigation into Moïse’s killing is fast fading from the public consciousness. Even those still paying attention, demanding accountability and pressuring for a thorough investigation give no chance to the crime’s masterminds being brought to justice in a country where impunity reigns. It doesn’t help that Moïse was despised by a large portion of the population. “The hope for finding justice for Jovenel is zero,” said Pierre Esperance, executive director of the National Human Rights Defense Network.

Fancy a beer in Britain? In some pubs, supplies are running low. (Washington Post) Fears are brewing among pint-loving Brits amid reports of a national beer shortage. Some pubs say they are running low on pints of Carling and Coors—the latest victims of the United Kingdom’s supply chain crisis, sparked by Brexit and exacerbated by the coronavirus pandemic, that has led to headline-grabbing scarcities of items including McDonald’s milkshakes, beloved Nando’s chicken and the polarizing breakfast spread Marmite. “We are experiencing some supply problems,” a spokesman for pub chain Wetherspoons said Tuesday, apologizing for any inconvenience caused to customers. The lack of beer has been attributed to the ongoing shortage of truck drivers to transport goods, a problem sparked by Britain’s decision to leave the European Union following a 2016 referendum that divided the country. The driver shortage has not been helped by the country’s “pingdemic,” in which tens of thousands of workers were forced to self-isolate after being contacted by the National Health Service app for coming into contact with someone who tested positive for coronavirus.

Merkel steps down with legacy dominated by tackling crises (AP) Angela Merkel will leave office as one of modern Germany’s longest-serving leaders and a global diplomatic heavyweight, with a legacy defined by her management of a succession of crises that shook a fragile Europe rather than any grand visions for her own country. In 16 years at the helm of Europe’s biggest economy, Merkel did end military conscription, set Germany on course for a future without nuclear and fossil-fueled power, and introduce a national minimum wage and benefits encouraging fathers to look after young children, among other things. But a senior ally recently summed up what many view as her main service: as an anchor of stability in stormy times. He told Merkel: “You protected our country well.”

India locks down Kashmir after top separatist leader’s death (AP) Indian authorities cracked down on public movement and imposed a near-total communications blackout Thursday in disputed Kashmir after the death of Syed Ali Geelani, a top separatist leader who became the emblem of the region’s defiance against New Delhi. Geelani, who died late Wednesday at age 92, was buried in a quiet funeral at a local graveyard organized by authorities under harsh restrictions, his son Naseem Geelani told The Associated Press. “They snatched his body and forcibly buried him. Nobody from the family was present for his burial. We tried to resist but they overpowered us and even scuffled with women,” said Naseem Geelani. As most Kashmiris remained locked inside their homes, armed police and soldiers patrolled the tense region. Government forces placed steel barricades and razor wire across many roads, bridges and intersections and set up additional checkpoints across towns and villages in the Kashmir Valley. Authorities cut most of cellphone networks and mobile internet service in a common tactic employed by India in anticipation of mass protests.

Women and technology in Japan (NYT) Japan is facing a severe shortage of workers in technology and engineering. And in university programs that produce workers in these fields, Japan has some of the lowest percentages of women in the developed world. Up to age 15, Japanese girls and boys perform equally well in math and science on international standardized tests. But at this critical juncture, when students must choose between the science and humanities tracks in high school, girls appear to lose confidence and interest in math and science. In these fields, the higher the educational level, the fewer the women, a phenomenon many blame on cultural expectations. “The sex-based division of labor is deeply rooted,” one young woman said. To help change the trend, two women with science backgrounds co-founded a nonprofit called Waffle, which runs one-day tech camps for middle and high school girls. Asumi Saito and Sayaka Tanaka offer career lectures and hands-on experiences that emphasize problem solving, community, and entrepreneurship to counter the stereotypically geeky image of technology. “Our vision is to close the gender gap by empowering and educating women in technology,” Saito said.

Taiwan Warns China Can ‘Paralyze’ Island’s Defenses in Conflict (Bloomberg) Taiwan warned that China could “paralyze” its defenses in a conflict, a stark new assessment expected to fuel calls in Washington for more support for the democratically ruled island. China is able to neutralize Taiwan’s air-and-sea defenses and counter-attack systems with “soft and hard electronic attacks,” Taiwan’s Ministry of National Defense said in an annual report to lawmakers seen by Bloomberg News. The document offered a more alarming assessment than last year’s report, which had said China still lacked the capability to launch an assault. While Beijing isn’t believed to possess the transport and logistical capacity necessary for an invasion of Taiwan’s large and mountainous main island, the ministry recommended monitoring Chinese efforts to expand training and preparations for complex landing operations. China already has the ability to seize Taiwan’s surrounding islands, it said.

Those left in Afghanistan complain of broken US promises (AP) Even in the final days of Washington’s chaotic airlift in Afghanistan, Javed Habibi was getting phone calls from the U.S. government promising that the green card holder from Richmond, Virginia, his wife and their four daughters would not be left behind. He was told to stay home and not worry, that they would be evacuated. Late Monday, however, his heart sank as he heard that the final U.S. flights had left Kabul’s airport, followed by the blistering staccato sound of Taliban gunfire, celebrating what they saw as their victory over America. “They lied to us,” Habibi said of the U.S. government. He is among hundreds of American citizens and green card holders stranded in the Afghan capital. Victoria Nuland, undersecretary of state for political affairs, would not address individual cases but said all U.S. citizens and lawful permanent residents who could not get evacuation flights or were otherwise stranded had been contacted individually in the past 24 hours and told to expect further information about routes out once those have been arranged.

#headlines #news

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fialleril · 5 years

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i'm not christian so i apologize if this is a gross overgeneralization but it's weird how Certain Types of christians seem to exclusively prefer to depict and refer to jesus as a baby or a dying/dead martyr... almost like Alive Adult Jesus might have some opinions that don't gel with their lifestyles lmao

You are definitely not alone in observing this, anon! In fact it’s a perennial discussion both among academic theologians and in the pastoral community.

If you’re into Christian history, there are definitely periodic trends in terms of which aspect(s) of Jesus are most emphasized, and they are unsurprisingly very much related to the social and cultural context of the people “doing theology.”

So for example, I’m personally most familiar with early/classical and early medieval Christian history. The earliest Christology was focused primarily on the resurrection (with Jesus’ death seen as an important step on the road to resurrection, but the emphasis always being on resurrection, not the death in and of itself), and the language used by the early church was explicitly the language of liberation. Salvation meant freedom from sin and death, and crucially, sin included what we might now call “social sin”: that is, the sin of inequality in this life. The first Christians preached resurrection, and as a direct result of that, they also preached communal living and a welfare system that would see every member of the Body of Christ taken care of.

They certainly didn’t get everything right. St. Paul encouraged Christian slave owners to free their Christian slaves and consider them siblings, but he never actually called for an end to the institution of slavery or acknowledged it as inherently evil. But we have historical records of Christian communities where the common social divisions of classical Rome were more or less completely broken down, where slaves and free, men and women, people of different cultural and class backgrounds all interacted as equals. In fact, the oldest versions of Christian baptismal creeds we have (which can be found as quoted bits of poetry in a couple of Paul’s letters) make explicit reference to egalitarianism as the greatest hallmark of Christian life.

And that was what worried the Romans. If you grow up in almost any Christian tradition, you’ll hear stories of the martyrs. Christians love our martyrdom stories, you’re absolutely right about that, anon. But all too often we miss the actual reason for the early martyrs’ deaths. They weren’t killed for being “followers of Christ” in the kind of generic, near-meaningless sense of “belief” that so many American Christians often consider to be “following Christ.” The Roman imperial authority, as a rule, did not particularly care who its subjects worshiped, so long as they paid their taxes, didn’t rebel against Rome, and didn’t rock the social boat. The majority of early Christian martyrs were killed for things like refusing to sacrifice to the emperor (which was seen as a symbolic act of rebellion against Rome, as making sacrifices to the emperor was a pledge of political loyalty), refusing to serve in the Roman military, rejecting the authority of Roman governors, upsetting the social order (with all that egalitarianism), and, in the case of the vast majority of women martyrs, refusing to get married (which is another form of upsetting the social order, and a particularly dangerous one because it represented a statement of female independence, both socially and financially).

In the early church there was a heavy emphasis on the the death and resurrection of Jesus, but that doesn’t actually mean that his life was overlooked. It would be truer to say that, for those early martyrs, his life and teachings were intimately tied up with his death and resurrection.

Because here’s the thing that we American Christians, in particular, often either gloss over or entirely forget: Jesus, too, was killed by the Romans. He lived as a second class non-citizen in an occupied country, and he was killed by the occupying authority because he was seen as a threat to that occupation. That’s a historical fact that gets covered over for a variety of reasons, not least the fact that the gospels themselves actively attempt to disguise it. (Why? Because the gospels were written by and for people who were still living under that occupying authority, and who were therefore concerned to make it clear that they were not, in fact, an existential threat to Roman power and did not need to be eliminated.)

And, of course, once Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, it was also in a position to benefit from the privilege of imperial power.

Jesus’ life - and his death - were profoundly anti-imperial. That’s...a really awkward fact for a religion that has become the backbone of empire to reckon with. So the emphasis of Christology changed. The emphasis now was on Christ as heavenly king, conqueror, ruler of a kingdom of God which looked, for all intents and purposes, exactly like a heavenly version of the Roman Empire.

And American Christians are very much in the position of those imperial Roman Christians. America is an empire. We have vast wealth and resources, much of which we’ve obtained through war and colonial exploitation. We are literally a country built on the backs of slaves, and we used the Christian scriptures to justify that slavery. We use it to justify slavery still. We have a thousand metaphorical explanations for what Jesus may have meant by “sell all you have and give it to the poor, then come and follow me,” because we are terrified of taking him literally. We are profoundly concerned with policing sexuality and gender because that early message of Christian egalitarianism, where there is in Christ no slave or free, no male or female, but all are one is every bit as threatening to the American social order as it was to the Roman order two thousand years ago. We don’t like to talk about Jesus’ cry for justice, about his eager anticipation of the toppling of empire, because we are that empire.

But that’s conservative white American theology. The liberation theology of Latin American, the post-colonial theology of Africa, the womanist theology and the poor people’s campaign arising out of the African American experience of Christianity - it’s no accident that these theologies are far more focused on the life and teachings of Jesus. Because any attentive reading of the gospels cannot fail to notice that, more than any other topic - practically to the exclusion of any other topic - Jesus is profoundly concerned with the liberation of the poor and oppressed.

#replies #anon #christianity #liberation theology #references to #slavery #colonialism #imperialism

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minervacasterly · 4 years

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Tudors, the Masters of Propaganda: When the Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The biggest winners of royal history because as far as European dynasties go are the Tudors. Let’s face it. There’s been no dynasty or group more successful in rewriting and shaping the modern world as the Tudor clan. “The story of our past is open to interpretation. Much of British history is edited and a deceitful account of events … The sooner you do a little digging, you discover it is a tapestry of different stories, woven together by whoever is in power at the time.” (Lucy Worsley in “British History’s Biggest Figs) ^This! How we see history is in accordance to our politics. Her first episode focuses on deconstructing the wars of the roses, presenting the facts and the different accounts that have come up of the men and women involved in this conflict, leaving the viewer to decide what might have likely happened. In regards to the Princes, in other pages I administer, some have said that it would be good to have the bodies that were found in the Tower of London examined to find once and for all who ordered their deaths. But assuming that the crown allows for DNA testing, allowing the world to finally know if they are the Princes in the Tower or not, supposing they are, it wouldn’t provide us with an answer. Like with Richard III, science would tell us how they died -and offer us an accurate description (based on facial reconstruction) on how they looked- but it wouldn’t tell us who kill them. Unless we were to discover a letter of Richard, Margaret Beaufort or any other suspect, declaring their guilt, the Princes in the Tower will remain one of history’s greatest cold cases. What is undeniable though is that the Tudors were crafty in making the people believe that they were chosen by God to rule over England. There were prophecies by the Welsh, made up ancestry, and of course a wedding that was promoted as the union between Lancaster and York that would put an end to the war and bring forth a dynasty that would last forever. “The line between fact and fiction often gets blurred.” (Lucy Worsley in “British History’s Biggest Figs) It’s true. Often fiction becomes the new history. Most of the times, it is because we have great storytellers who give us a simpler version that isn’t too complicated or convoluted, that it is easier for us to accept. The wars of a roses a turbulent period but it wasn’t chaotic. People were tired of civil war, and it might be one of the reasons why they were ready, after Henry VII put many rebellions down, to accept their new overlords. Not only that but fast-forward to the sixteenth century when religious tensions were at an all-time high, when there was divisions among Catholics and even Protestants, the Tudors were more desperate than ever to solidify their power. Henry VIII needed a son to secure a dynasty that many abroad still questioned its legitimacy, while also a tool to make themselves immortal. Henry VIII wasn’t a fan of Protestantism but he liked the idea of Kings being above reproach, subject to no judgment but God’s. Kings were no longer half-divine, in Henry’s mind, English Kings were now completely divine. What their conscience wanted is what God wanted. Going against the King was no longer treason but a sin as well. When Edward VI succeeded his father, his coronation pageant included many religious symbolism, primarily figures of the Old Testament like Josiah and Moses. These powerful visuals were meant to tell the people that their new King was God’s messenger on Earth and that he would turn England into an Evangelical nation. Then there is Mary I. Mary was seen as the great Catholic hope and to some extent she was but she soon proved that she her father’s daughter. And like her father she was determined to be the sole sovereign of her nation. She engaged in theatrics as her mother had done, playing the part of the dutiful wife to her Spanish husband, Prince Philip, King of Naples and Sicily, begging him not to leave, writing to him constantly about how much she needed him. But once he was with her, she proved that she was more like her Tudor ancestors than their Spanish ones. Mary was also compared to religious figures. These matronly figures helped her justify her reign before her subjects who weren’t used to the idea of female monarchy. When her friend, cousin and Archbishop of Canterbury, Reginald Pole, advised her to return Church lands to the Church, she pretended not to listen. Those lands had benefited many powerful subjects she didn’t wish to antagonize, not to mention that some of those lands were now in possession of the crown. Would Mary really give them all up after all the revenue they had provided her family? The answer is obviously ‘no’. When she confronted the rebels that were led by Wyatt, she inspected the troops as a King would, and gave a rousing speech, where she said that she was a mother protecting her children from harm, and that she would be ruled by her people rather than by her needs. Mary ended up pardoning many of the rebels but had no mercy for most of their leaders. At the end of her reign despite her efforts to cleanse the Catholic Church in England of corruption and restore a Humanist curriculum in the universities, as well as re-funding some of them; Mary suffered from Protestant propaganda and her own failure which was not giving the kingdom an heir to continue the Tudor line and her religious ambitions. As soon as Elizabeth I got her sister’s reign, she quoted one of the psalms where she said that “this is the Lord’s doing” and “it is marvelous in our eyes”. Curiously, it is recorded that when she said this, she was next to a royal oak, similar to what her ancestress, Elizabeth Woodville, when she reputedly encountered the Yorkinst King for the first time. As always, another Tudor monarch who employed great rhetoric, and used biblical and classical symbols to justify her reign. As she got older, she continued to dress extravagantly. While many people expected her to marry, she chose to remain a Virgin. Nobody knows the full extent of her relationship with her male favorites but given how strict she was with her ladies, it is safe to say that her religiosity wouldn’t have allowed her to be intimate with them. While supporting many Protestant groups overseas, she was quick to dismiss them when they preached about a Republican government. Elizabeth didn’t like this because that meant that the King was no longer close to God, but another public servant who was under strict scrutiny by his people. In various paintings, one can see Elizabeth being led to victory by classical goddesses, being given the sacred fruit. She is their chosen one, the one who will vanquish all of England’s enemies and is closer to God than anyone else. Using her single status, she became a substitute for the Virgin Mary. One whose virtue was no longer mocked but praised. But, in spite of this, Elizabeth I was also a pragmatist and as previously stated, when she found that some of her councilors were leaning towards more radical branches of Protestantism, she confronted them and fought them hard using her best tool: her words. Turning them against one another, and foiling their plans to institute Evangelical measures. When she died, she was hailed as one of the greatest. This is largely due to nostalgia. James VI of Scotland succeeded her becoming James I of England. He and his wife, Queen Anne were jointly crowned on Westminster Abbey. Despite James’ efforts to be a good ruler, people grew disappointed of him and soon began to look towards the past, transforming it into a place of beauty and mysticism. Despite some writers looking down on Catholic Margaret Beaufort and her son Henry VII, and his granddaughter Mary I, they made figures like Henry VIII and Elizabeth I into national icons. Henry VIII’s split from Rome and Elizabeth I’s defeat of the Armada became legend. What they wrote endured for centuries. Some will argue that it endures today, with many people still buying into the myths that these figures wrote about their reigns, proving that nothing is more powerful than propaganda. The pen is truly mightier than the sword. Recommended reading: Tudor by Leanda de Lisle; Wars of the Roses: Fall of the Plantagenets and the Rise of the Tudors by Dan Jones; Armada by Garrett Mattingly, Elizabeth I: The Struggle for the Throne by David Starkey, Henry VII by SB Chrimes, Plantagenet Chronicles by Derek Wilson; Mary Tudor: Princess, Bastard, Queen & The Queen’s Bed: An Intimate History of Elizabeth’s Court by Anna Whitelock; Blood Sisters & Game of Queens by Sarah Gristwood; The Myth of Bloody Mary & Tudors vs Stewarts by Linda Porter; Inside the Tudor Court by Lauren Mackay; The Anne Boleyn Collection by Claire Ridgway; In Bed With the Tudors & Elizabeth of York & The Six Wives and the Many Mistresses of Henry VIII by Amy Licence; Blood will tell by Kyra Cornelius Kramer; Margaret Beaufort by Elizabeth Norton; The King’s Mother by Elizabeth Norton; 1536: The Year that changed Henry VIII by Suzannah Lipscomb; Private Lives of the Tudors by Tracy Borman; The Woodvilles by Susan Higginbotham; The Wives of Henry VIII & Mary, Queen of Scots by Antonia Fraser.In terms of documentary, there is the source quoted which comes from the first episode of the new documentary series “British History Biggest’ Fibs” presented by Lucy Worsley.I also recommend her six wives documentary which is currently being shown on PBS every Sunday on the US; Suzannah Lipscomb and Dan Jones’ documentary on the six wives and David Starkey’s documentary on them as well. They also have other documentaries that also focus on the wars of the roses and the Tudor era. Bits and pieces of some of these can be found on YouTube, while others you have to buy or watch if you have subscription on Netflix or Hulu.

#tudors #tudor history #dailytudors

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jonathanvik · 3 years

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Starlight Dream - Chapter 1

The slop squelched onto Seina's plate. Pieces of her dinner splashed onto her plain blue dress, staining it. Not that the server cared, glaring at her to keep moving. The workers only had two twenty-minute breaks in their thirteen-hour day. The servers tolerated no dillydallying, especially from rambunctious young girls like her.

Seina kept her head down and kept moving, else she draw more attention to herself. She'd have to spend some time before bed cleaning it. By rule, the higher-ups allowed the workers only one outfit.

Her parents waved her over, and Seina joined them. Before the darkness, her father had worked at an insurance firm as a salaryman. Years of hard labor and ill nutrition had left him gaunt and bony, losing most of his hair during the process. Despite this, he kept a positive attitude. Her father never stopped smiling, always saying there was a silver lining behind anything. Seina wasn't sure what silver lining existed to a life with a 78-hour workweek of menial labor, and being fed food even dogs would be reluctant to eat. Still, she appreciated the encouragement.

"Oh dear, did you receive a stain, Seina?" Seina's mother said as she approached the grimy rusty table her family sat around. While somewhat plain, the matronly woman wore a face people instinctively trusted. "I'll ask around to see if I can get an extra detergent ration. Can't have the taskmasters seeing my daughter walk around in soiled clothes." Like her father, her mother was also always smiling. It made Seina feel guilty for being miserable most days.

Not that they really had days anymore. Thick smoke covered the sky, making even the sunniest days hazy and ugly. The masters' power had ensured the sun would never shine again.

Seina gave the nearest taskmaster a nervous sideways glance. Pointed teeth glistened from under his lips, marking him as the monster he was. She gave him a respectful nod, not showing an ounce of disrespect. She'd seen people staked for less. Their boss enjoyed twisting people into grotesque art pieces to mock their human workers. For the majority of Seina's ten-year existence, vampires had dominated the world.

Somehow, Seina got her stomach to agree with the slop they'd served her. Her parents weren't as picky, happily sipping away at their meal. After another tentative bite, an interruption caught her attention, making her blood turn cold. A high-ranking vampire had entered their eating area, a black silk cape flowing behind him. They were never a good sign.

"Attention. The Dark Lord is looking for volunteers for tonight's entertainment, and you're the lucky bunch, 2-B!" The man gave them a cruel smile. "Come this way. I'd advise not to keep Master Lothaire waiting."

Fear rooted Seina's feet in place, knowing the likely fate which awaited them. She'd seen it often enough. Master Lothaire loved making them watch his entertainments. Her father put a comforting hand on her shoulder, wearing a bright smile.

"Don't worry dear. Most groups come back alive afterward. They can't afford to kill entire scores of us. They'll pick a few and leave the rest alone."

Her mother nodded in agreement, also wearing a wide, encouraging smile. "He's right, Seina. I better take care of that stain. Have to look our best for the vampire lord! How's my hair look?"

"Just smashing honey!" Her father replied. "You'll knock them dead!"

Her mother blushed. "Stop it!"

While not as optimistic, Seina got her feet moving. She joined the others in her workgroup towards Master Lothaire's favorite colosseum, allowing the head vampire to shackle her.

"What a dreary place!" Colten said, examining the strange new world he'd found himself in. He flew high into the smoky area, examining everything with interest. What a terrible place to find himself. The people looked shabby, dressed in rags. Their living conditions seemed little better. Most buildings were either dilapidated or empty. The fear behind the human's eyes broke his tiny heart. Something terrible had happened here.

As he scanned his surroundings, something caught his eye. Were those people in chains? Dark creatures were guiding their captives towards one of the few well-maintained buildings in the city. It was a massive dome-like building and, unlike most structures, had bright flashing lights. From the captive's expressions, most believed they were going to die. It shocked him to see children among them.

Colten screamed in frustration. What could he do? His power was limited, drained from his trip, and he was only a tiny fairy. Dark energy spilled from the people's captors. They were powerful creatures of pure darkness. The evil intensified when he looked towards the shining dome. He sensed great malice there.

"Darn it!" He looked towards the scared people again and made a decision. Moments later, he flew towards the colosseum, praying he could do something.

People packed the stadium. They bumped and jostled Seina as she attempted to walk through them. Master Lothaire must have called everyone in the Osaka district to attend his games. The vampire elite were jeering and having fun, watching the helpless, terrified humans with amusement. One grabbed a random passerby, and Seina looked away, not wishing to see what happened next. She'd heard and seen enough to know the rest.

The entire building was a testament to the master of humanity's power. Statues of people wearing expressions of agonizing pain decorated the walls. Rumors said they were actual people, turned to stone through a vampire's power during their death throes and maybe even still suffering. The details on them gave some unsettling credence to this theory.

Soon they reached a large circular room with countless bleachers, each occupied by a vampire eager for tonight's festivities. Master Lothaire himself sat on a throne of ivory, looking down upon his domain from the balcony. The vampire lord was handsome beyond words, taking Seina's breath away, despite knowing his true monstrous nature. The proof hung around his neck. He wore a necklace of skulls, each of a world leader he'd killed after taking their country for his own. In the throne beside him sat Lilha, his queen. She also shared her husband's inhuman beauty, only her eyes betrayed her lack of humanity, and Seina shivered when they shared a glance. She was only a toy Lilha would enjoy before throwing away.

"Welcome, friends!" Master Lothaire said. Despite not raising his voice, Seina could hear him despite the distance. "Tonight marks the fifth anniversary of my conquest of the world. In honor of that victory, I've provided entertainment and games for all to enjoy. Eat, drink, and be merry! For this kingdom will last a thousand years and beyond!" The vampire crowd broke into uproarious cheering and applause.

Seina's legs shook. This was worse than she'd first suspected. The odds of survival seemed almost impossible. She calmed down somewhat when her father put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, we'll get through this." Her father said, wearing a warm smile.

"Our first entertainment will be a favorite of mine, a battle to the death!" Master Lothaire said, continuing. "Against your favorite and mine, Dreven the Unkillable!"

Bar doors opened in the fighter's pit, revealing a shirtless vampire. Unlike most of his kind, this vampire had a powerfully built body, seeming more alive than his undead kin. He played to the crowd, who gave him cheers and tossed him decayed flowers.

_Wow, Dreven the Unkillable. I feel sorry for anyone who's going to face him. He's never lost a fight, ever. _Wasn't his win count eight thousand to zero or something?

"And his opponent will be a volunteer from worker group 2-B!" Master Lothaire said, surprising Seina out of her pondering.

_This is so bad! _That meant someone she'd know for most of her life would soon die. It was too horrible to even consider. The girls in her division openingly wept, almost terrified beyond reason. Uncle Kenji offered brave words, but they fell on deaf ears.

"No need to rush." A vampire dressed like a cheesy announcer, complete with a tacky polka-dot bow tie, said. "But if you don't volunteer soon, there will be consequences."

The captive humans remained silent, too frightened to do anything. The vampire announcer's annoyance grew by the moment.

"Still no response? Oh well." The announcer shrugged. "I'll make it easier for you. The fighter will come from chapter D. That simplifies things. You better choose quickly, or you will all die in one minute."

D? That was Seina's division. No, please no. Anything but that. Usually, divisions had five people, but 2-B was missing two. One died of exhaustion last week, and the other suffered a terrible mining accident.

It was too horrible to consider. Would this mean that... Seina yelped in surprise as someone pushed her forward, howling in pain as she landed face-first on the fighter's pit floor. She spat after getting some dirt into her mouth.

"Well, well! Looks like we have a volunteer!" The announcer said. The crowd burst into laughter.

"What? No!" Seina's eyes widened in horror. What had just happened? Who pushed her? She looked up to see her father with a hand extended outward.

"Dad?" Seina said, too stunned for words.

"Sorry honey, but it was either you or us!" Her father replied.

"Don't worry, Seina. We'll always remember you!" Her mother added.

"W-what?"

"We'll be sorry to see you go. But don't worry, we'll have a new daughter in your honor!" Her father continued.

Her mother gave an emphatic nod. "Yes, Seina is a beautiful name. I'm sure she'll love it!"

Seina just stared, unable to believe what just happened. The crowd broke into more laughter and cheers, and the vampire king gave a nod of approval.

"Silly child," Lothaire said. "Haven't you listened to my teachings? In this world, it's kill or be killed. Love is only a weakness. Your parents were right to sacrifice you."

"Yep, sorry dear, but he's right!" Her father said, nodding in agreement. "You should have known."

"Hopefully, the new Seina will be smarter." Her mother added.

"Bring out the weapons. This should be entertaining." Lothaire said.

"What?" The shock of her parents' betrayal still hadn't left her. Seina had trouble adjusting to the concept that they expected her to fight for life. "But I'm only a ten-year-old girl!"

Dreven smirked and shrugged. "Them's the breaks, kid." From the audience's expression, they would enjoy seeing her torn limb from limb. The humans, except her parents, looked away, not wishing to watch Seina's gruesome fate.

A vampire pulled a wide variety of weapons into the fighter's pit. They ranged from swords to guns. None looked light enough for a ten-year-old to wield. Seina broke into tears, beyond terrified, unable to even stand straight. She didn't want to die. How could this happen?

With an exaggerated swagger, Dreven walked over to the weapon rack and withdrew a sword larger than Seina's entire body. With his vampiric strength, it seemed like a toy in his hands.

Since fighting back was pointless, Seina closed her eyes, preparing for the end. She prayed it wouldn't be too painful.

"Please don't cry! Be strong!" A kind voice said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Seina blinked through watery eyes, looking towards the kind stranger who comforted her in her final moments. She gasped in shock when she got a good look at them.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves, you jerks! You're the worst of the worst!" The strange creature said, berating the vampire horde.

Her rescuer was the purest white she'd ever seen. His head was bulbous, larger than his torso. The face somewhat resembled a cat, but with longer ears. Puffs of fur popped out from his enormous ears. Somehow, tiny wings supported the creature's weight, allowing him to fly around. He was also the cutest thing Seina had ever seen.

"What are you?" Seina asked in amazement, wondering if she was dreaming, or if the recent events had shattered her sanity.

"My name's Colten. And I refuse to allow this farce to continue any further!" The cat creature puffed out his chest.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Dreven said, pointing his enormous sword at the intruder.

"Um, just a fairy here to help." Despite his obvious fear, Colten refused to back down.

"A creature of good?" Lothaire snorted in derision. "How ridiculous. Another fool rushing to their death."

"He's right! You'll only get yourself killed!" Seina refused to allow someone else to die for her sake.

"No way!" Colten shook his enormous head only to scream in pain a few seconds later as Dreven struck him with the blunt edge of his enormous sword.

"Colten!" Seina rushed to her fallen friend's side. Thankfully, he only seemed bruised and not dead. A wing looked damaged, though. It seemed unlikely he could fly anytime soon.

"How adorable. Wanting to die together, I see." Dreven turned towards the announcer. "Hey, is it alright if the fairy joins the girl's side?"

The announcer gave a thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan!"

"Looks like we're in this together." Colten gave Seina a weak smile as she cradled him in her arms.

"Yeah." Tears dropped onto Colten's little head as Seina broke down.

She'd just made a friend, and he was now dying for her sake. Seina hugged him, holding him tight and began sobbing. The vampire crowd broke into mocking laughter, enjoying seeing this helpless girl suffer. Seina didn't care or even notice, focusing on her new friend instead. She supposed at least she wouldn't die alone. Seina held one of the fairy's legs as they waited for the end. Somehow, despite everything, some happiness bloomed in her heart. Seina was glad she'd met someone as wonderful as Colten.

"You're lucky, little girl. Two on one is much fairer odds." The vampire warrior broke into uproarious laughter. "Start the round already. I'm ready for some carnage!"

_This is it. _Seina cried out in pain and surprise as bright light blinded her, almost dropping Colten. The light faded, leaving a very confused Seina.

"What was that?"

"No way!" Colten said.

"What is it?" Colten's expression surprised Seina. Was that hope on his tiny face?

"Look down!" Colten pointed towards a strange object that hadn't been there before. Seina grabbed it without even thinking, turning it around in her hand. It was a pink-colored diamond-encrusted brooch.

"It's so pretty." Seina had seen nothing so beautiful in her life. It made the splendor the vampire lord surrounded himself with seem dull in comparison.

"You're a magical girl, Seina? I don't believe it! I'd thought only a special few could become one!" Colten was ranting, speaking at speeds almost impossible to understand. "This is amazing, spectacular!"

"What? Magical girl? What are you talking about?"

The tiny fairy's expression turned smug. "It means we can wipe the floor with these vampire creeps!"

Dreven snorted in derision. "Really?"

"I'm not following." Seina was beyond lost. How could a brooch allow her to fight? Blind the vampire to death?

"Hold you brooch up into the air and yell, Change Change, Magical Love Dress Up!"

"Okay." While certain it would make her appear ridiculous, she'd try anything at this point.

Seina stood up and gave Dreven a determined glare. She sent another one towards the vampire king himself. If this gave her power, she'd put an end to this nightmare herself. "Change Change, Magical Love Dress Up!"

Bright light engulfed Seina, and her entire body glowed a transparent blue. In a flash, everything about her body changed. Her short black hair extended into two long, luxurious braids. The bland rags she wore transformed into a pink frilly dress with a short skirt. The elaborate new costume gave Seina the vague impression of the long-dead lotus flower she'd seen in old books. A large yellow bow was across her chest, and her brooch stood in its center.

Colten laughed. "I knew it! You are a magical girl!"

"Huh?" Seina blinked and looked down at herself, both amazed and baffled.

"That's the terrible power that will destroy us all?" Dreven broke into mocking laughter, and the other vampires joined him. Lothaire chuckled, sipping at his wine. His wife only looked confused.

"That was disappointing. I was hoping for something more exciting!" Seina's mom pipped it.

"How am I meant to fight with this?" Seina gestured to herself. Except for her new pretty outfit, she didn't feel any different. How could a simple dress protect her from bloodthirsty monsters?

"What do you mean? You can totally floor him now!" Colten argued back with far more confidence than she felt. "Hold out your hand and focus. You can summon your special weapon that way."

_A special weapon! That might change this situation around! _Seina did as instructed, and a long staff appeared in her hand. Attached to its end, was a bubble blower?

Dreven snorted. "That's your great weapon?"

"Yeah! What the heck!" This magical girl deal was a rip-off!

"Well, with that mighty weapon, I better switch to something more dangerous." Dreven threw aside his sword and withdrew a pistol from the weapon rack. "Start the fight already. I'm curious what this magical girl can do."

"Don't worry, you got this," Colten said with the utmost confidence.

"What are you talking about! I have a bubble blower, and he's got a freaking gun! This isn't even remotely fair!"

"Alright. The battle will begin..." Before the announcer could finish his pronouncement, the sound of the gunshot echoed through the stadium, and Seina toppled over.

"What?" Colten said in shocked outrage. "You can't do that!"

"I'm a vampire. I don't fight fair," Dreven replied, and the crowd broke into mocking laughter. They berated the magical girl who believed anyone could defeat the ruthless, unstoppable vampires.

"Seems the fight's over with, folks! The winner is Dreven!" The announcer said, not caring about the vampire warrior breaking the rules.

"Um, actually I'm fine!" Seina stood up, shaking the dust from her dress. "It just startled me."

Much to her amazement, the bullet hadn't even scratched her skin despite striking her right in the forehead. It amused her to see the vampires shocked at her survival. Maybe victory wasn't impossible after all?

Dreven, however, didn't seem that impressed. "You survived, so what? A vampire can survive much worse." He threw away his gun and took back his sword. Without waiting for the announcer to begin the fight, he charged forward with blinding speed, sword raised to sever his opponent's head.

The colosseum's roof exploded as Dreven crashed through it, exposing the building to the chilly night air. Vampires screamed in fear and surprise as pieces of the roof collapsed on top of them. Seina stared at her extended arm in amazement.

"Wow." Seina couldn't believe her strength. She could have sworn she'd only tapped the vampire.

"Um, Seina. Your bubble blower is meant for casting spells, not a blunt weapon." Colten said. "But that works too I guess."

"Oops." Seina blushed with embarrassment.

"She won." Lilha, the vampire queen, said in the dead shocked silence.

"She has some power, I suppose." Lothaire didn't seem too impressed despite Seina's astounding display of strength.

A strange thought popped into her head. "Does this mean I win? The announcer didn't actually start the fight."

"I guess so. Congratulations!" Colten patted her on the leg.

"I'm not finished yet!" Dreven tossed people out of his path as he stomped back towards the fighting pit. The vampire warrior was soaking wet and pieces of seaweed latched to his body. Had Seina knocked him to the ocean? That was miles away.

"Oh, you're back. Ready for another butt-kicking?" Colten said. Seina nodded, not sure why the vampire had returned after she'd beaten him with little difficulty.

Dreven broke into a disturbingly wide smile. His grin stretched out unnaturally, cackling while doing so. "Foolish girl. You think you can beat me?"

The vampire warrior extended a hand and drove it into his chest. Much to Seina's horror and shock, he withdrew something red and beating. Had Dreven just torn out his own heart? Clenching his fist, he crushed it. Gore and blood oozed down his hand. Dreven's grin extended as the hole he'd torn into his chest vanished like it never existed.

"I'm not like other vampires. Destroying my heart can't kill me. Nothing can! As long as a single atom of my body exists, I can't die!"

"Okay, but was that really necessary?" Seina's stomach felt queasy, horrified by the display. He could have just told her.

The vampires in the crowd broke into mocking, jeering laughter. They sent praises towards their champion and insults towards his magical girl opponent. Lothaire gave them a tilt of his head in respect.

"Hold on!" An irritating realization struck Seina. "Why are you fighting in a colosseum if you literally can't die? That doesn't seem fair at all!"

"We've vampires, kiddo. We don't play fair." Dreven said in a purr.

"No, you're just being a jerk," Colten replied.

"So, shall we begin our game again?" Dreven withdrew a nasty-looking rusty spiked mace from the weapon's rack.

Seina, however, was unimpressed. Already, she'd grown tired of the vampire's nonsense. An idea popped into her head, and her lips curled into a small smile. Yes, that would solve her problem nicely.

"Ha! You'll find Seina not so easy to beat!" Colten said. "Use your magical bubble blower to finish this fool!"

"I can't agree more." Seina walked up to her opponent, who watched her in bemusement. She gripped her staff tight, adjusted her aim, and swung with all her strength. Dreven screamed in pain and terror as the magical girl launched his body high into the air, flying the hole in the ceiling. Seina watched as the vampire flew higher into the sky, bursting a hole through the smoke cover and disappearing into the starry night sky.

"There, he won't cause anyone any more trouble!" Seina said, proud of herself. "If he can heal himself forever, fine. But that doesn't matter if he's stuck floating in space!" It amazed her that the plan worked. Just how powerful was she now? The entire audience broke into another stunned silence.

"Seina, that isn't what I mean at all," Colten said.

"Sorry?"

"I meant for you to use your magical powers to obliterate him."

"I can do that?" Seina blushed with embarrassment.

"Yes, you're a magical girl. It's in the name." Colten sighed, then shrugged. "Well I guess a victory's a victory." A clap interrupted their conversation.

"Very amusing," Lothaire said, standing from his throne. "It appears you have some power."

"Lord Lothaire, are you going to face this child?" The vampire lord's wife asked. "Surely it's beneath you. Let me handle her. I'd love to punish a misbehaving child."

"No, this girl represents something that I can't allow to stand. The pathetic scum down there must learn that no such thing remains." Lothaire gestured to the humans, watching the scene. Seina saw what the vampire lord meant. They stared at Seina with awe, their eyes sparkling with an emotion she'd rarely seen in her short life. It created a strange bubbling feeling in her stomach.

"It looks like we're fighting the big boss guy now," Colten said. "Good, that saves time."

"Understand this, child," Lothaire said. "Dreven was the weakest of our number. A vampire of lesser capabilities. I won't be such an easy opponent."

Seina gulped and her hand trembled, not doubting the vampire king's pronouncement for a moment. When humanity fought against him, no weapon could stop him. Even a barrage of nuclear weapons had proven useless. Rumors whispered that his vampiric power made him invincible.

"Smart girl. You understand the trouble you're in. You won't even lay a hand on my husband." Lilha said. "You will die, not even realizing it until it is too late."

Lord Lothaire stared down at his opponent. His expression was unreadable, but his confidence was undeniable.

"Did you know, no weapon has ever even touched Lord Lothaire?" Lilha said, continuing her boast. "They can't. He has utter mastery of eternity."

Colten, however, seemed unperturbed. "So what? Seina will kick his pointy teeth in."

"Understand this, little fairy," Lilha said, her tone superior. "My husband's power allows him to control time. Any timeline he doesn't care for, he discards like trash."

"Time control?" Alarm had crept into Colten's face. Seina's hand trembled, realizing how much trouble they were in. What a fool she'd been thinking anyone could defeat the masters.

"He sifts through the possibilities until the one he desires comes into fruition." Lilha extended a hand, gesturing to everything around her. "Nothing ever happens unless Lord Lothaire wills it!"

Seina put her hands into her face. With some difficulty, she fought back tears, refusing to cry again in front of these monsters. So much for hope. Fate had a twisted sense of humor.

"That's not good." While Colten's confidence had faded somewhat, he continued putting up a brave face.

The entire crowd of vampires broke into applause, and Lilha soaked in their admiration. Lothaire continued to stay where he stood, impassive.

"Give us a good show, magical girl. It should be quite entertaining. Wouldn't you agree, my husband?"

Lothaire continued to stay where he stood, unresponsive. Seina blinked in confusion. Why was he just standing there, motionless? Why wasn't he bragging and jeering, as usual?

"Husband?" Lilha asked in concern.

Lothaire's body jerked uncontrollably, foam gathering around his mouth. He stumbled forward, each step clumsy and awkward. With a strangled gurgle, the vampire king toppled forwards, landing in the fighter's pit. His body jerked several more times before stopping to a halt. Dead.

"No, has he overused his power?" Lilha's voice barely rose above a whisper. Her eyes were wide in horror and disbelief.

Siena blinked. "Eh?”

#stories #parody #magical girl #adventure #vampries #anime #anime stories #Starlight Dream #written story #vampires #fiction #story #cute #novel #young adult

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amisbro · 3 years

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Let’s discuss: UtaPri and “factions”

So this is something that I feel has been long overdue but I held off on it for the longest time (and no not just because I couldn’t figure out the issue with my dash on this website either) but I threw my hands up and went “Screw it...WE’RE DOING IT NOW!” With that let’s discuss UtaPri and the “factions”

So we can look at this subject any # of ways and we can use the Anime in a way (especially after Season 4 which people in the fandom can’t fucking let go of to the point I still gotta hear about it) OR We can discuss this in a way with how there is becoming factions where it feels like there are more and more people wanting to have HEAVENS in the game but there is a sharp adversary to this and that causes issues OR We can discuss how ,for a year and a half, there were people like me that just wanted to see the main story updated to get more songs added (and also because the fact that the game was legitimately blocking people from finishing tasks on the missions segment) Things like this are things that have been going on now since AT LEAST 2016 and ,in my opinion, has gotten WORSE once SL became a Global game. I genuinely believe that Broccoli has unknowingly (or possibly knowingly) done things that would splinter the fanbase and KLab got thrown into the mess once Shining Live came out. It’s gone from something that has been one big family to factions of people wanting one thing but being told to basically “Shut the fuck up” by the other group Let me give you an example Shining Live came out in 2017 in Japan and then Globally in 2018. Now is the game called “Shining Live” yes but I think that was a big misstep by KLab and Broccoli because I knew in a way (and its bared out that I was right) that this was going to cause problems Why? I have felt that one of the best things to do with UtaPri was to continue the Music series in some way. We had ended on the A-Sides for QN and STARISH for season songs and then the Group songs for them. It made sense that ,when the next game came out, that we would have the continuation of that and NOT a complete reboot People forget that had there been a “Proper Music 4″ that we would have gone through the S3 B-Sides and then moved on to Season 4 and it would have more than likely started with the Duets and then have had the solos in the next Music game. The point here is that they were going to have enough songs that were “publicly available” that “Broccoli’s Rule” wouldn’t have had to come into effect. Nonetheless we got Shining Live and for the first year + we had a lot of content for the people that liked to play the events and then still please those that really...probably knew better than to play the events so we just played the main story and chilled out. Keep in mind though this was also before they instituted the “Points Shot” and the mission that maxed out at the # 50 so for a while it was a bit weird...but you understood it! Then October of 2018 happened and because of that the Collection event and the halt of “Main Story” content and I remember mentioning in the comments of one of the KLab Game Stations that I would have liked to see more “Main Story” content and that resulted in an argument with someone and that was my first real realization that there were going to start to become more “camps” like this in the future. The biggest problem is always this one with SL Again is the game called “Shining Live”? Yes it is but that doesn’t mean you should get the right to exclude content from the game JUST BECAUSE its not from “Shining Productions”! Remember kids: “Shining Live” is a “Subtitle” of a game but “Uta no Prince-Sama” is the main part of the title...excluding one part of the series literally becomes a problem then! Now one could say “Well HEAVENS doesn’t have enough songs” And yet they get new songs released (and mentioned in tweets) and yet we can’t put those songs in SL...right! I think sometimes people forget that SL doesn’t exist in the universe of UtaPri like I think you do. Like they could have literally said that HEAVENS was canonically a part of Shining Productions in SL and that would literally solve everything...now they DON’T so we go into this whole thing every time they tweet out something that involves song releases. Like you all DO realize that there were 3 groups at Maji Love Kingdom right? So therefore there were SIX songs performed outside of “Maji Love Kingdom” right? I’m making sure you are aware of this because the way KLab has marketed this game (poorly in a way) is such that you genuinely forgot that HEAVENS IS a part of the UtaPri Universe! Here is another one Here in the States we had screenings of Maji Love Kingdom. I went to the one in NJ and it was literally like walking into a morgue! Now a big part of this is that Sentai fucked up royally and didn’t send out anything to theaters that this was to be treated more like a CONCERT than a MOVIE but they didn’t so what you ended up with was a lot of people not really singing along to the songs and it was literally so DEAD that I walked out before “Encore” finished! Now one would think that ,if you had a bad experience and you wanted to talk about it, people would be more sympathetic...problem is that didn’t happen! Here is what DID happen! Apparently there was this one cat that felt they needed to do PR for Sentai and anyone that genuinely complained about it on twitter were being told by this one individual (no I will not name them but I bet you they know who they are) “Maybe your next experience will be better” Alright shut all the way the fuck up! The experience that I had (and some others apparently) LITERALLY SUCKED! I get that we were in the minority but still...if there are people that had a bad time you don’t get to act any kind of way towards them...point blank period! The reality is that yes the camp of people that had a bad time was small...we got that but at the same time those people deserved to be heard and if you negate those people that’s a problem because how do theaters get to fix their issues then? But these are things I’m talking about. We get to the point where the series here starts to get divisive because of different things. HEAVENS not being in SL is a big one because...shouldn’t fans of the group be allowed to get cards of their faves too? The other big thing we can get into is the fact that it was recently announced that there are going to be an “Animated Concert Series” starting in 2022 and first is STARISH. I think we all know (based on past performances) that they are no doubt going to give STARISH and QN this treatment and that’s fine...but you have to be lying to yourself if you think for any amount of time that Broccoli gives any fucks about HEAVENS...they don’t...they literally DO NOT CARE! If you say they do then answer me this question “Why didn’t HEAVENS get a stage event like QN and STARISH?” Or answer me this one “Why didn’t they get to perform their solos but STARISH did at 6th stage?” I mean...ANYONE with a clue knows why and its obvious. When Agematsu tweeted out a photo from the Movie of course he tweeted it out specifically of STARISH but HE don’t get put on blast for his bias? HE IS LITERALLY HARUKA’S PROXY FOR FUCK SAKES!! Let me assure you all of something: You know damn well that a lot of you really hate the fuck out of HEAVENS because if you didn’t then for FOUR YEARS (soon to be 5) you all wouldn’t have harped JUST on what happened to Otoya...nah you’d have given a fuck about Eiichi but we get it cos you all hate his guts right? Y’all love to still post your Eiichi hate and I still get to see it SOMEHOW but don’t worry cos I got a spot on the bench for all of ya That is all I needed to say here...talk to all you lovely people again soon

#uta no prince sama #HEAVENS #factions #Shining Live #6th Stage

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xtruss · 3 years

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The Invention of the Police

Why did American policing get so big, so fast? The answer, mainly, is slavery.

— By Jill Lepore, A Critic at Large

— July 13, 2020 | July 20, 2020 Issue | The New Yorker

The Chinatown Squad, a notoriously harsh police unit in San Francisco, in 1905. Photograph courtesy Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley.

To police is to maintain law and order, but the word derives from polis—the Greek for “city,” or “polity”—by way of politia, the Latin for “citizenship,” and it entered English from the Middle French police, which meant not constables but government. “The police,” as a civil force charged with deterring crime, came to the United States from England and is generally associated with monarchy—“keeping the king’s peace”—which makes it surprising that, in the antimonarchical United States, it got so big, so fast. The reason is, mainly, slavery.

“Abolish the police,” as a rallying cry, dates to 1988 (the year that N.W.A. recorded “Fuck tha Police”), but, long before anyone called for its abolition, someone had to invent the police: the ancient Greek polis had to become the modern police. “To be political, to live in a polis, meant that everything was decided through words and persuasion and not through force and violence,” Hannah Arendt wrote in “The Human Condition.” In the polis, men argued and debated, as equals, under a rule of law. Outside the polis, in households, men dominated women, children, servants, and slaves, under a rule of force. This division of government sailed down the river of time like a raft, getting battered, but also bigger, collecting sticks and mud. Kings asserted a rule of force over their subjects on the idea that their kingdom was their household. In 1769, William Blackstone, in his “Commentaries on the Laws of England,” argued that the king, as “pater-familias of the nation,” directs “the public police,” exercising the means by which “the individuals of the state, like members of a well-governed family, are bound to conform their general behavior to the rules of propriety, good neighbourhood, and good manners; and to be decent, industrious, and inoffensive in their respective stations.” The police are the king’s men.

History begins with etymology, but it doesn’t end there. The polis is not the police. The American Revolution toppled the power of the king over his people—in America, “the law is king,” Thomas Paine wrote—but not the power of a man over his family. The power of the police has its origins in that kind of power. Under the rule of law, people are equals; under the rule of police, as the legal theorist Markus Dubber has written, we are not. We are more like the women, children, servants, and slaves in a household in ancient Greece, the people who were not allowed to be a part of the polis. But for centuries, through struggles for independence, emancipation, enfranchisement, and equal rights, we’ve been fighting to enter the polis. One way to think about “Abolish the police,” then, is as an argument that, now that all of us have finally clawed our way into the polis, the police are obsolete.

But are they? The crisis in policing is the culmination of a thousand other failures—failures of education, social services, public health, gun regulation, criminal justice, and economic development. Police have a lot in common with firefighters, E.M.T.s, and paramedics: they’re there to help, often at great sacrifice, and by placing themselves in harm’s way. To say that this doesn’t always work out, however, does not begin to cover the size of the problem. The killing of George Floyd, in Minneapolis, cannot be wished away as an outlier. In each of the past five years, police in the United States have killed roughly a thousand people. (During each of those same years, about a hundred police officers were killed in the line of duty.) One study suggests that, among American men between the ages of fifteen and thirty-four, the number who were treated in emergency rooms as a result of injuries inflicted by police and security guards was almost as great as the number who, as pedestrians, were injured by motor vehicles. Urban police forces are nearly always whiter than the communities they patrol. The victims of police brutality are disproportionately Black teen-age boys: children. To say that many good and admirable people are police officers, dedicated and brave public servants, which is, of course, true, is to fail to address both the nature and the scale of the crisis and the legacy of centuries of racial injustice. The best people, with the best of intentions, doing their utmost, cannot fix this system from within.

There are nearly seven hundred thousand police officers in the United States, about two for every thousand people, a rate that is lower than the European average. The difference is guns. Police in Finland fired six bullets in all of 2013; in an encounter on a single day in the year 2015, in Pasco, Washington, three policemen fired seventeen bullets when they shot and killed an unarmed thirty-five-year-old orchard worker from Mexico. Five years ago, when the Guardian counted police killings, it reported that, “in the first 24 days of 2015, police in the US fatally shot more people than police did in England and Wales, combined, over the past 24 years.” American police are armed to the teeth, with more than seven billion dollars’ worth of surplus military equipment off-loaded by the Pentagon to eight thousand law-enforcement agencies since 1997. At the same time, they face the most heavily armed civilian population in the world: one in three Americans owns a gun, typically more than one. Gun violence undermines civilian life and debases everyone. A study found that, given the ravages of stress, white male police officers in Buffalo have a life expectancy twenty-two years shorter than that of the average American male. The debate about policing also has to do with all the money that’s spent paying heavily armed agents of the state to do things that they aren’t trained to do and that other institutions would do better. History haunts this debate like a bullet-riddled ghost.

That history begins in England, in the thirteenth century, when maintaining the king’s peace became the duty of an officer of the court called a constable, aided by his watchmen: every male adult could be called on to take a turn walking a ward at night and, if trouble came, to raise a hue and cry. This practice lasted for centuries. (A version endures: George Zimmerman, when he shot and killed Trayvon Martin, in 2012, was serving on his neighborhood watch.) The watch didn’t work especially well in England—“The average constable is an ignoramus who knows little or nothing of the law,” Blackstone wrote—and it didn’t work especially well in England’s colonies. Rich men paid poor men to take their turns on the watch, which meant that most watchmen were either very elderly or very poor, and very exhausted from working all day. Boston established a watch in 1631. New York tried paying watchmen in 1658. In Philadelphia, in 1705, the governor expressed the view that the militia could make the city safer than the watch, but militias weren’t supposed to police the king’s subjects; they were supposed to serve the common defense—waging wars against the French, fighting Native peoples who were trying to hold on to their lands, or suppressing slave rebellions.

The government of slavery was not a rule of law. It was a rule of police. In 1661, the English colony of Barbados passed its first slave law; revised in 1688, it decreed that “Negroes and other Slaves” were “wholly unqualified to be governed by the Laws . . . of our Nations,” and devised, instead, a special set of rules “for the good Regulating and Ordering of them.” Virginia adopted similar measures, known as slave codes, in 1680:

It shall not be lawfull for any negroe or other slave to carry or arme himselfe with any club, staffe, gunn, sword or any other weapon of defence or offence, nor to goe or depart from of his masters ground without a certificate from his master, mistris or overseer, and such permission not to be granted but upon perticuler and necessary occasions; and every negroe or slave soe offending not haveing a certificate as aforesaid shalbe sent to the next constable, who is hereby enjoyned and required to give the said negroe twenty lashes on his bare back well layd on, and soe sent home to his said master, mistris or overseer . . . that if any negroe or other slave shall absent himself from his masters service and lye hid and lurking in obscure places, comitting injuries to the inhabitants, and shall resist any person or persons that shalby any lawfull authority be imployed to apprehend and take the said negroe, that then in case of such resistance, it shalbe lawfull for such person or persons to kill the said negroe or slave soe lying out and resisting.

In eighteenth-century New York, a person held as a slave could not gather in a group of more than three; could not ride a horse; could not hold a funeral at night; could not be out an hour after sunset without a lantern; and could not sell “Indian corn, peaches, or any other fruit” in any street or market in the city. Stop and frisk, stop and whip, shoot to kill.

Then there were the slave patrols. Armed Spanish bands called hermandades had hunted runaways in Cuba beginning in the fifteen-thirties, a practice that was adopted by the English in Barbados a century later. It had a lot in common with England’s posse comitatus, a band of stout men that a county sheriff could summon to chase down an escaped criminal. South Carolina, founded by slaveowners from Barbados, authorized its first slave patrol in 1702; Virginia followed in 1726, North Carolina in 1753. Slave patrols married the watch to the militia: serving on patrol was required of all able-bodied men (often, the patrol was mustered from the militia), and patrollers used the hue and cry to call for anyone within hearing distance to join the chase. Neither the watch nor the militia nor the patrols were “police,” who were French, and considered despotic. In North America, the French city of New Orleans was distinctive in having la police: armed City Guards, who wore military-style uniforms and received wages, an urban slave patrol.

In 1779, Thomas Jefferson created a chair in “law and police” at the College of William & Mary. The meaning of the word began to change. In 1789, Jeremy Bentham, noting that “police” had recently entered the English language, in something like its modern sense, made this distinction: police keep the peace; justice punishes disorder. (“No justice, no peace!” Black Lives Matter protesters cry in the streets.) Then, in 1797, a London magistrate named Patrick Colquhoun published “A Treatise on the Police of the Metropolis.” He, too, distinguished peace kept in the streets from justice administered by the courts: police were responsible for the regulation and correction of behavior and “the prevention and detection of crimes.”

It is often said that Britain created the police, and the United States copied it. One could argue that the reverse is true. Colquhoun spent his teens and early twenties in Colonial Virginia, had served as an agent for British cotton manufacturers, and owned shares in sugar plantations in Jamaica. He knew all about slave codes and slave patrols. But nothing came of Colquhoun’s ideas about policing until 1829, when Home Secretary Robert Peel—in the wake of a great deal of labor unrest, and after years of suppressing Catholic rebellions in Ireland, in his capacity as Irish Secretary—persuaded Parliament to establish the Metropolitan Police, a force of some three thousand men, headed by two civilian justices (later called “commissioners”), and organized like an army, with each superintendent overseeing four inspectors, sixteen sergeants, and a hundred and sixty-five constables, who wore coats and pants of blue with black top hats, each assigned a numbered badge and a baton. Londoners came to call these men “bobbies,” for Bobby Peel.

It is also often said that modern American urban policing began in 1838, when the Massachusetts legislature authorized the hiring of police officers in Boston. This, too, ignores the role of slavery in the history of the police. In 1829, a Black abolitionist in Boston named David Walker published “An Appeal to the Coloured Citizens of the World,” calling for violent rebellion: “One good black man can put to death six white men.” Walker was found dead within the year, and Boston thereafter had a series of mob attacks against abolitionists, including an attempt to lynch William Lloyd Garrison, the publisher of The Liberator, in 1835. Walker’s words terrified Southern slaveowners. The governor of North Carolina wrote to his state’s senators, “I beg you will lay this matter before the police of your town and invite their prompt attention to the necessity of arresting the circulation of the book.” By “police,” he meant slave patrols: in response to Walker’s “Appeal,” North Carolina formed a statewide “patrol committee.”

New York established a police department in 1844; New Orleans and Cincinnati followed in 1852, then, later in the eighteen-fifties, Philadelphia, Chicago, and Baltimore. Population growth, the widening inequality brought about by the Industrial Revolution, and the rise in such crimes as prostitution and burglary all contributed to the emergence of urban policing. So did immigration, especially from Ireland and Germany, and the hostility to immigration: a new party, the Know-Nothings, sought to prevent immigrants from voting, holding office, and becoming citizens. In 1854, Boston disbanded its ancient watch and formally established a police department; that year, Know-Nothings swept the city’s elections.

American police differed from their English counterparts: in the U.S., police commissioners, as political appointees, fell under local control, with limited supervision; and law enforcement was decentralized, resulting in a jurisdictional thicket. In 1857, in the Great Police Riot, the New York Municipal Police, run by the mayor’s office, fought on the steps of city hall with the New York Metropolitan Police, run by the state. The Metropolitans were known as the New York Mets. That year, an amateur baseball team of the same name was founded.

Also, unlike their British counterparts, American police carried guns, initially their own. In the eighteen-sixties, the Colt Firearms Company began manufacturing a compact revolver called a Pocket Police Model, long before the New York Metropolitan Police began issuing service weapons. American police carried guns because Americans carried guns, including Americans who lived in parts of the country where they hunted for food and defended their livestock from wild animals, Americans who lived in parts of the country that had no police, and Americans who lived in parts of North America that were not in the United States. Outside big cities, law-enforcement officers were scarce. In territories that weren’t yet states, there were U.S. marshals and their deputies, officers of the federal courts who could act as de-facto police, but only to enforce federal laws. If a territory became a state, its counties would elect sheriffs. Meanwhile, Americans became vigilantes, especially likely to kill indigenous peoples, and to lynch people of color. Between 1840 and the nineteen-twenties, mobs, vigilantes, and law officers, including the Texas Rangers, lynched some five hundred Mexicans and Mexican-Americans and killed thousands more, not only in Texas but also in territories that became the states of California, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico. A San Francisco vigilance committee established in 1851 arrested, tried, and hanged people; it boasted a membership in the thousands. An L.A. vigilance committee targeted and lynched Chinese immigrants.

The U.S. Army operated as a police force, too. After the Civil War, the militia was organized into seven new departments of permanent standing armies: the Department of Dakota, the Department of the Platte, the Department of the Missouri, the Department of Texas, the Department of Arizona, the Department of California, and the Department of the Columbian. In the eighteen-seventies and eighties, the U.S. Army engaged in more than a thousand combat operations against Native peoples. In 1890, at Wounded Knee, South Dakota, following an attempt to disarm a Lakota settlement, a regiment of cavalrymen massacred hundreds of Lakota men, women, and children. Nearly a century later, in 1973, F.B.I. agents, swat teams, and federal troops and state marshals laid siege to Wounded Knee during a protest over police brutality and the failure to properly punish the torture and murder of an Oglala Sioux man named Raymond Yellow Thunder. They fired more than half a million rounds of ammunition and arrested more than a thousand people. Today, according to the C.D.C., Native Americans are more likely to be killed by the police than any other racial or ethnic group.

Modern American policing began in 1909, when August Vollmer became the chief of the police department in Berkeley, California. Vollmer refashioned American police into an American military. He’d served with the Eighth Army Corps in the Philippines in 1898. “For years, ever since Spanish-American War days, I’ve studied military tactics and used them to good effect in rounding up crooks,” he later explained. “After all we’re conducting a war, a war against the enemies of society.” Who were those enemies? Mobsters, bootleggers, socialist agitators, strikers, union organizers, immigrants, and Black people.

To domestic policing, Vollmer and his peers adapted the kinds of tactics and weapons that had been deployed against Native Americans in the West and against colonized peoples in other parts of the world, including Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines, as the sociologist Julian Go has demonstrated. Vollmer instituted a training model imitated all over the country, by police departments that were often led and staffed by other veterans of the United States wars of conquest and occupation. A “police captain or lieutenant should occupy exactly the same position in the public mind as that of a captain or lieutenant in the United States army,” Detroit’s commissioner of police said. (Today’s police officers are disproportionately veterans of U.S. wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, many suffering from post-traumatic stress. The Marshall Project, analyzing data from the Albuquerque police, found that officers who are veterans are more likely than their non-veteran counterparts to be involved in fatal shootings. In general, they are more likely to use force, and more likely to fire their guns.)

Vollmer-era police enforced a new kind of slave code: Jim Crow laws, which had been passed in the South beginning in the late eighteen-seventies and upheld by the Supreme Court in 1896. William G. Austin became Savannah’s chief of police in 1907. Earlier, he had earned a Medal of Honor for his service in the U.S. Cavalry at Wounded Knee; he had also fought in the Spanish-American War. By 1916, African-American churches in the city were complaining to Savannah newspapers about the “whole scale arrests of negroes because they are negroes—arrests that would not be made if they were white under similar circumstances.” African-Americans also confronted Jim Crow policing in the Northern cities to which they increasingly fled. James Robinson, Philadelphia’s chief of police beginning in 1912, had served in the Infantry during the Spanish-American War and the Philippine-American War. He based his force’s training on manuals used by the U.S. Army at Leavenworth. Go reports that, in 1911, about eleven per cent of people arrested were African-American; under Robinson, that number rose to 14.6 per cent in 1917. By the nineteen-twenties, a quarter of those arrested were African-Americans, who, at the time, represented just 7.4 per cent of the population.

Progressive Era, Vollmer-style policing criminalized Blackness, as the historian Khalil Gibran Muhammad argued in his 2010 book, “The Condemnation of Blackness: Race, Crime, and the Making of Modern Urban America.” Police patrolled Black neighborhoods and arrested Black people disproportionately; prosecutors indicted Black people disproportionately; juries found Black people guilty disproportionately; judges gave Black people disproportionately long sentences; and, then, after all this, social scientists, observing the number of Black people in jail, decided that, as a matter of biology, Black people were disproportionately inclined to criminality.

More recently, between the New Jim Crow and the criminalization of immigration and the imprisonment of immigrants in detention centers, this reality has only grown worse. “By population, by per capita incarceration rates, and by expenditures, the United States exceeds all other nations in how many of its citizens, asylum seekers, and undocumented immigrants are under some form of criminal justice supervision,” Muhammad writes in a new preface to his book. “The number of African American and Latinx people in American jails and prisons today exceeds the entire populations of some African, Eastern European, and Caribbean countries.”

Policing grew harsher in the Progressive Era, and, with the emergence of state-police forces, the number of police grew, too. With the rise of the automobile, some, like California’s, began as “highway patrols.” Others, including the state police in Nevada, Colorado, and Oregon, began as the private paramilitaries of industrialists which employed the newest American immigrants: Hungarians, Italians, and Jews. Industrialists in Pennsylvania established the Iron and Coal Police to end strikes and bust unions, including the United Mine Workers; in 1905, three years after an anthracite-coal strike, the Pennsylvania State Police started operations. “One State Policeman should be able to handle one hundred foreigners,” its new chief said.

The U.S. Border Patrol began in 1924, the year that Congress restricted immigration from southern Europe. At the insistence of Southern and Western agriculturalists, Congress exempted Mexicans from its new immigration quotas in order to allow migrant workers to enter the United States. The Border Patrol began as a relatively small outfit responsible for enforcing federal immigration law, and stopping smugglers, at all of the nation’s borders. In the middle decades of the twentieth century, it grew to a national quasi-military focussed on policing the southern border in campaigns of mass arrest and forced deportation of Mexican immigrants, aided by local police like the notoriously brutal L.A.P.D., as the historian Kelly Lytle Hernández has chronicled. What became the Chicano movement began in Southern California, with Mexican immigrants’ protests of the L.A.P.D. during the first half of the twentieth century, even as a growing film industry cranked out features about Klansmen hunting Black people, cowboys killing Indians, and police chasing Mexicans. More recently, you can find an updated version of this story in L.A. Noire, a video game set in 1947 and played from the perspective of a well-armed L.A.P.D. officer, who, driving along Sunset Boulevard, passes the crumbling, abandoned sets from D. W. Griffith’s 1916 film “Intolerance,” imagined relics of an unforgiving age.

Two kinds of police appeared on mid-century American television. The good guys solved crime on prime-time police procedurals like “Dragnet,” starting in 1951, and “Adam-12,” beginning in 1968 (both featured the L.A.P.D.). The bad guys shocked America’s conscience on the nightly news: Arkansas state troopers barring Black students from entering Little Rock Central High School, in 1957; Birmingham police clubbing and arresting some seven hundred Black children protesting segregation, in 1963; and Alabama state troopers beating voting-rights marchers at Selma, in 1965. These two faces of policing help explain how, in the nineteen-sixties, the more people protested police brutality, the more money governments gave to police departments.

In 1965, President Lyndon Johnson declared a “war on crime,” and asked Congress to pass the Law Enforcement Assistance Act, under which the federal government would supply local police with military-grade weapons, weapons that were being used in the war in Vietnam. During riots in Watts that summer, law enforcement killed thirty-one people and arrested more than four thousand; fighting the protesters, the head of the L.A.P.D. said, was “very much like fighting the Viet Cong.” Preparing for a Senate vote just days after the uprising ended, the chair of the Senate Judiciary Committee said, “For some time, it has been my feeling that the task of law enforcement agencies is really not much different from military forces; namely, to deter crime before it occurs, just as our military objective is deterrence of aggression.”

As Elizabeth Hinton reported in “From the War on Poverty to the War on Crime: The Making of Mass Incarceration in America,” the “frontline soldiers” in Johnson’s war on crime—Vollmer-era policing all over again—spent a disproportionate amount of time patrolling Black neighborhoods and arresting Black people. Policymakers concluded from those differential arrest rates that Black people were prone to criminality, with the result that police spent even more of their time patrolling Black neighborhoods, which led to a still higher arrest rate. “If we wish to rid this country of crime, if we wish to stop hacking at its branches only, we must cut its roots and drain its swampy breeding ground, the slum,” Johnson told an audience of police policymakers in 1966. The next year, riots broke out in Newark and Detroit. “We ain’t rioting agains’ all you whites,” one Newark man told a reporter not long before being shot dead by police. “We’re riotin’ agains’ police brutality.” In Detroit, police arrested more than seven thousand people.

Johnson’s Great Society essentially ended when he asked Congress to pass the Omnibus Crime Control and Safe Streets Act, which had the effect of diverting money from social programs to policing. This magazine called it “a piece of demagoguery devised out of malevolence and enacted in hysteria.” James Baldwin attributed its “irresponsible ferocity” to “some pale, compelling nightmare—an overwhelming collection of private nightmares.” The truth was darker, as the sociologist Stuart Schrader chronicled in his 2019 book, “Badges Without Borders: How Global Counterinsurgency Transformed American Policing.” During the Cold War, the Office of Public Safety at the U.S.A.I.D. provided assistance to the police in at least fifty-two countries, and training to officers from nearly eighty, for the purpose of counter-insurgency—the suppression of an anticipated revolution, that collection of private nightmares; as the O.P.S. reported, it contributed “the international dimension to the Administration’s War on Crime.” Counter-insurgency boomeranged, and came back to the United States, as policing.

In 1968, Johnson’s new crime bill established the Law Enforcement Assistance Administration, within the Department of Justice, which, in the next decade and a half, disbursed federal funds to more than eighty thousand crime-control projects. Even funds intended for social projects—youth employment, for instance, along with other health, education, housing, and welfare programs—were distributed to police operations. With Richard Nixon, any elements of the Great Society that had survived the disastrous end of Johnson’s Presidency were drastically cut, with an increased emphasis on policing, and prison-building. More Americans went to prison between 1965 and 1982 than between 1865 and 1964, Hinton reports. Under Ronald Reagan, still more social services were closed, or starved of funding until they died: mental hospitals, health centers, jobs programs, early-childhood education. By 2016, eighteen states were spending more on prisons than on colleges and universities. Activists who today call for defunding the police argue that, for decades, Americans have been defunding not only social services but, in many states, public education itself. The more frayed the social fabric, the more police have been deployed to trim the dangling threads.

The blueprint for law enforcement from Nixon to Reagan came from the Harvard political scientist James Q. Wilson between 1968, in his book “Varieties of Police Behavior,” and 1982, in an essay in The Atlantic titled “Broken Windows.” On the one hand, Wilson believed that the police should shift from enforcing the law to maintaining order, by patrolling on foot, and doing what came to be called “community policing.” (Some of his recommendations were ignored: Wilson called for other professionals to handle what he termed the “service functions” of the police—“first aid, rescuing cats, helping ladies, and the like”—which is a reform people are asking for today.) On the other hand, Wilson called for police to arrest people for petty crimes, on the theory that they contributed to more serious crimes. Wilson’s work informed programs like Detroit’s stress (Stop the Robberies, Enjoy Safe Streets), begun in 1971, in which Detroit police patrolled the city undercover, in disguises that included everything from a taxi-driver to a “radical college professor,” and killed so many young Black men that an organization of Black police officers demanded that the unit be disbanded. The campaign to end stress arguably marked the very beginnings of police abolitionism. stress defended its methods. “We just don’t walk up and shoot somebody,” one commander said. “We ask him to stop. If he doesn’t, we shoot.”

For decades, the war on crime was bipartisan, and had substantial support from the Congressional Black Caucus. “Crime is a national-defense problem,” Joe Biden said in the Senate, in 1982. “You’re in as much jeopardy in the streets as you are from a Soviet missile.” Biden and other Democrats in the Senate introduced legislation that resulted in the Comprehensive Crime Control Act of 1984. A decade later, as chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, Biden helped draft the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act, whose provisions included mandatory sentencing. In May, 1991, two months after the Rodney King beating, Biden introduced the Police Officers’ Bill of Rights, which provided protections for police under investigation. The N.R.A. first endorsed a Presidential candidate, Reagan, in 1980; the Fraternal Order of Police, the nation’s largest police union, first endorsed a Presidential candidate, George H. W. Bush, in 1988. In 1996, it endorsed Bill Clinton.

Partly because of Biden’s record of championing law enforcement, the National Association of Police Organizations endorsed the Obama-Biden ticket in 2008 and 2012. In 2014, after police in Ferguson, Missouri, shot Michael Brown, the Obama Administration established a task force on policing in the twenty-first century. Its report argued that police had become warriors when what they really should be is guardians. Most of its recommendations were never implemented.

In 2016, the Fraternal Order of Police endorsed Donald Trump, saying that “our members believe he will make America safe again.” Police unions are lining up behind Trump again this year. “We will never abolish our police or our great Second Amendment,” Trump said at Mt. Rushmore, on the occasion of the Fourth of July. “We will not be intimidated by bad, evil people.”

Trump is not the king; the law is king. The police are not the king’s men; they are public servants. And, no matter how desperately Trump would like to make it so, policing really isn’t a partisan issue. Out of the stillness of the shutdown, the voices of protest have roared like summer thunder. An overwhelming majority of Americans, of both parties, support major reforms in American policing. And a whole lot of police, defying their unions, also support those reforms.

Those changes won’t address plenty of bigger crises, not least because the problem of policing can’t be solved without addressing the problem of guns. But this much is clear: the polis has changed, and the police will have to change, too. ♦

An earlier version of this piece misrepresented the number of Americans between the ages of fifteen and thirty-four who were treated as a result of police-inflicted injuries in emergency rooms.

— Published in the print edition of the July 20, 2020, issue, with the headline “The Long Blue Line.”

— Jill Lepore, a staff writer at The New Yorker, is a professor of history at Harvard and the author of fourteen books, including “If Then: How the Simulmatics Corporation Invented the Future.”

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