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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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Next Cinderella AU part ahoy! Time for the whole world to know who the owner of the mysterious slipper left at Florence’s ball -- King Cosimo’s one true love and savior -- truly is...

Makeup in the 17th century was rather limited, though in the later half of the century, rococo fashion brought very pale skin and red lips into vogue in the upper classes, so nobles took to putting on white face paint and powder, rouge, and finally bright red lip color. The closest thing to foundation in the 16th and 17th centuries was Venetian ceruse, an expensive skin whitener made of water, vinegar, and lead. Needless to say, given that last ingredient, it’s unsurprising that using a lot of it would result in hair loss and lead poisoning. People in the 17th century also took to wearing “beauty patches,” or pieces of velvet or silk cut into pretty shapes, to cover up scars or blemishes.

“Lavender’s Blue” is a traditional folk song referenced in Disney’s live action adaptation of Cinderella.

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Andre’s plan went into action first thing the next morning. He, KC, and Erika had stayed up all night finalizing their preparations. By the time the clock had struck nine AM, the entire country of Royaume was buzzing with the news that the King of Florence had miraculously survived an assassination plot at the Masquerade and now sought out the “mysterious princess” who had so thoroughly charmed him there so as to make her his queen.

As KC had predicted, soon everyone in the kingdom was preparing for Prince Andre’s arrival so that the eligible young women in their houses could try on the slipper so as to “prove” they were the maiden who had saved King Cosimo. One of those such homes ended up being the Cromwell estate.

Charles Cromwell had been furious to discover that Carewyn had mysteriously disappeared from the still locked tower room without a trace. He’d resolved to use all of his resources to track her down and drag her back home, once breakfast was through. One can imagine that Charles was even less pleased, however, when over that very breakfast he learned the news that Orion had survived the assassination attempt. When he’d seen the scar of Orion’s name appear on his forearm under those of Jacob and Carewyn’s the previous night, he’d thought that it meant that Malfoy and Rakepick were able to tie up the loose ends in his absence, just as he’d told them to. Now it seemed that Orion had just barely managed to survive a dance with Death unscathed...and so not only were his co-conspirators likely in custody, but peace between Florence and Royaume was now a foregone conclusion.

But, it seemed, there was still one chance the Cromwell family could still get ahead. Charles was rather confident that Rakepick wouldn’t turn on him, and Lord Malfoy was unlikely to be believed by either King, given the position Charles had at King Henri’s side and the established friction between Malfoy and Orion. And even if Rakepick was foolish enough to try to betray him, it would be her word against his -- and he knew his word would win out with King Henri, in the end. And now, according to Andre’s decree, the person who could fit the mysterious slipper left at the ball would become the King of Florence’s bride...Queen of an entire country. It was an opportunity Charles knew he couldn’t be foolish enough to pass up -- and so he set about preparing Dahlia, Iris, and Heather for Andre’s arrival.

“My intelligence informs me that the shoe is an unusual size,” Charles instructed them, “so we shall do our very best to ensure that one of you is able to wear it.”

And so the three of Claire’s daughters’ feet were bound in thick bandages under their stockings, compressing their toes so as to make their feet smaller. It was very painful -- all three young women were unable to fight back tears as they waited in the sitting room for Andre’s arrival. They weren’t in much state to walk, so their mother Claire fussed over them by fetching them sweets and peppering them with advice about how to play off their tears as being tears of joy at the thought that they’d see “their precious Cosimo” again.

At long last, after an entire morning and afternoon of trying the shoe on many hundreds of women, Andre arrived at the Cromwell estate, KC and Erika in tow. As planned, not one of the women could wear Carewyn’s shoe -- there were a few who managed to get it on, but were unable to keep it on for very long, whether because it fell off due to being too large or because it was too painfully tight. Andre had had to go out of his way to have the shoe cleaned multiple times throughout the day, so as to make sure it stayed in good condition. One woman had even gone so far as to cut her own toe off to try to make the shoe fit, and Andre had furiously put his foot down, refusing to let someone ruin his work of art with blood stains.

Andre’s arrival at the Cromwell estate was strategically timed to be one of the very last homes with eligible maidens visited. And when Andre greeted Charles Cromwell, decked out in his finest purple and gold velvet tunic, he played it remarkably cool.

“Your Highness,” Charles Cromwell said in a very demure voice. Although his children Blaise, Pearl, and Claire all bowed or curtseyed, he merely gave a respectful bow of his head. “We are truly humbled to welcome you to our home.”

Andre gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you, Lord Cromwell.”

His eyes flitted down to Charles’s right wrist, obscured by his long, flowing black sleeve, and then over at KC, whose eyes were slightly narrowed.

“Father was a bit disappointed when you and your family left the ball so early,” said Andre smoothly.

Charles gave something of a resigned sigh. “Yes, well, my grandson Tristan was up well past his bedtime -- Blaise is very meticulous in maintaining such things.”

His eyes then narrowed almost curiously upon Andre’s face. “Rest assured, had I known how the ball would end, I would have remained by your father’s side until the last.”

“I have no doubt of it,” said Andre, just barely managing to keep his voice level. “Your presence would’ve been very helpful, under the circumstances...”

“You mean in answering to the allegations thrown at Lord Cromwell’s feet?” said Erika in a rather blunt voice.

Blaise, Pearl, and Claire all stiffened. Charles himself, however, didn’t react with any surprise -- instead he only raised his eyebrows.

“‘Allegations?’” he repeated very coolly.

Andre acted dismissive. “The magician captured for the attempt on King Cosimo’s life spun a tale of you having hired her to cast the dark spell on him.”

Charles feigned incredulity. “I, hire a magician? Whatever for?”

“She raved about you supposedly conspiring with a Florentine lord to assassinate King Cosimo and sabotage all chance for a proper peace treaty between him and Father,” Andre rambled on, almost the way he would talk to Carewyn about his upcoming fashion design projects. “Naturally, Father and Mother spoke for you and reassured his Majesty that you would never do such a thing.”

“But of course, your Highness,” said Charles. Despite the humility of his mask-like face, his blue eyes flickered with something like satisfaction. “It’s my and my family’s greatest privilege, to serve yours. Why would I ever harm a man who your family sees as a prospective friend and ally?”

“You see, Erika?” said Andre with a wry smile. “I told you Lord Cromwell would set the record straight.”

Erika crossed her arms, her brows high over her narrowed eyes. “Anyone can spout pretty words. That Florentine Lord spouted plenty of them, before the scar on his arm exposed his guilt.”

Charles’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Erika.

“You doubt my loyalty to the Royaumanian Crown, Lady Rath?” he asked softly.

“I don’t trust people who talk more than they act,” said Erika, perfectly undaunted.

“A proper sentiment for a child who thinks so little that she has even less to say,” sneered Blaise.

“Blaise,” Pearl hissed at him reproachfully.

Erika shot Blaise a very hard look. “You can’t be thinking that much, if you’re not taking your father being accused of treason seriously.”

“Erika,” Andre said sharply, as Pearl grabbed a hold of Blaise’s arm to stop him from striding forward and possibly retaliating. “Father has categorically stated that Lord Cromwell couldn’t have been involved with the plot to kill King Cosimo. And I agree with him -- no blood relation of Carewyn’s could possibly have been involved in something so cruel...”

The mention of Carewyn seemed to make all three of Charles’s children’s eyes darken. In Pearl’s was frustration; Claire’s, irritation; Blaise’s, resentment.

“I agree,” KC said, her eyes drifting over to Charles thoughtfully. “Still, it might be good to set Erika’s mind at ease. Lord Cromwell, would you please show us your right forearm?”

There was a strange flicker in Charles’s eyes. “My arm? Whatever for?”

“All those involved with the casting of a dark spell show visible evidence of it,” said KC pleasantly. “The Florentine Lord and the magician both had it on their arms -- if you weren’t involved, then you wouldn’t have that same proof on yours.”

Charles gave a mild shrug. “Very well, then...”

He lifted his sleeve and held his arm aloft.

The skin was ghostly pale and faintly wrinkled...and yet utterly devoid of any scarring or blood-red letters.

Andre, KC, and Erika all gave a visible start. Charles’s lips spread into a very cool smile.

“There now,” he said as he lowered his arm and shook his sleeve back down into place, “I hope that has...put to rest your concerns.”

His diamond-like eyes shifted to Andre.

“Shall we move to the drawing room, your Highness? My granddaughters should be practicing their needlework there, should you wish them to try on that infamous slipper...”

Andre shot KC and Erika an slightly uneasy glance.

“...Yes,” said Andre at last. “Please, do lead on, Lord Cromwell.”

Charles’s cold smile broadened as he stepped aside to let them enter the manor house. Andre strolled forward, his eyes lingering on Charles’s sleeve as he went.

This didn’t make any sense...Charles clearly had been involved. He couldn’t have hired another magician to cast an illusion on his arm, could he?

But, Andre thought, if it were an illusion, then the injury would still be there, even if people couldn’t see it...just like a beauty patch or...

A thought congealing in his head, the Crown Prince of Royaume purposefully stumbled over his own two feet while crossing the threshold. In his fall, he latched onto Charles Cromwell’s right forearm, clutching it hard as he tried to catch himself in a crouched position. Despite himself, Charles couldn’t stop himself from letting out a bellow of pain.

“Oh...my deepest apologies, Lord Cromwell,” said Andre, his eyes very sharp despite the pleasantry of his expression.

He gave another few sharp clenches to Charles’s arm as he hoisted himself back up onto his feet. When he removed his hand from Charles’s, Andre could see some blood trailing out from under Charles’s sleeve, tinted with what looked like something powdery white.

“Ceruse, Lord Cromwell?” Andre said in a very cool voice. “Hardly a suitable healing tonic, for an open wound.”

He shot Erika a significant look. Erika launched herself forward, grabbing onto Charles. All three of Charles’s children made as if to pull her off of him and Charles wrestled in her grip, but it was no use -- within seconds, she’d yanked Charles’s sleeve back up, to reveal a mess of powdery white ceruse stained with blood. Yanking out her handkerchief from the inside of her dress pocket, KC rubbed the residue away, to reveal the same three names that had scarred Patricia Rakepick’s arm.

Jacob Cromwell.

Carewyn Cromwell.

King Cosimo Amari VII.

Blaise, Pearl, and Claire all recoiled.

“Father?” Claire said shakily.

“That should be enough proof to corroborate Patricia Rakepick’s testimony,” said Andre, “both about the assassination plot and about what you did to Carewyn and her brother.”

All hints of pleasantry had left his face as he stared Charles down.

“Lord Cromwell -- for high treason against the Crown of Royaume, I sentence you to be imprisoned immediately and executed at dawn. Erika -- lock him in irons, to be brought back to the palace.”

Charles’s face had become very pale and mask-like, his eyes very wide and dark with shock, rage, and terror. Pearl and Claire both looked horrified. Blaise -- as shocked as he was -- recovered first when Erika tried to drag his father away. He initially made as if to grab at Erika, but immediately pulled back, his hand clasping at mid-air. Instead he whirled on Andre, his eyes very wide with something oddly panic-stricken.

“Your Highness -- please reconsider! My father is old, he’s not in the highest of faculties -- ”

“Everything he’s done suggests otherwise,” said KC rather coolly.

“Please, your Highness,” Blaise plowed on regardless, “my father has always been loyal to the Crown -- he’s served your family faithfully for so many years, just like all of us have -- ”

“For his own benefit,” scoffed Erika.

“Think of his family, your Highness!” Blaise said in a louder, even more forceful voice, almost trying to block Erika out. “Think of where we would be, without our patriarch! Don’t take him away from his children -- his grandchildren...I will take over all of his responsibilities, as head of our family, if you only release him to my custody...”

Andre wasn’t moved by Blaise’s pleas, but he considered the older man critically for a moment as Erika locked Charles onto the boot of the coach.

“You will never sway me to spare your father, Master Cromwell,” the Prince of Royaume said sharply. “However...there might be one person who could. The mysterious princess who King Cosimo wishes to wed heard of the assassination plot your father has been implicated in and came to the ball in disguise to warn him.”

Pearl gave a start. “That girl...was there to protect him?”

Charles actually straightened up slightly on the boot of the coach. His face was still mask-like and his eyes were still very dark and hollow, but he was clearly listening intently.

“She not only won the King’s heart, but ultimately saved his life,” said Andre. “Even going so far as to shield him from the spell’s effects with her own body without a shred of hesitation. She’s a hero: one that soon all of Florence and Royaume will rightly celebrate as a champion of peace.”

Andre indicated Charles with an offhand incline of his head without taking his eyes off Blaise.

“Perhaps if your family contains King Cosimo’s savior as well as his prospective assassin...the first will be merciful enough to speak on behalf of the second.”

With the terms set, Blaise immediately escorted Andre to the drawing room where Heather, Iris, and Dahlia were waiting. All three of them were surprised, confused, and a bit intimidated when Blaise ordered all three of them to try on the shoe -- Blaise was much less composed than Charles, and his gaze much more openly volatile. Sure enough, though, even with how much all three girls tried to make the shoe fit, it was no use. Iris even managed to shove her foot into the shoe, but it was so narrow that it pinched her already injured feet too badly for her to even speak. When she opened her mouth, all she could do was cry -- and so Claire, distraught beyond reason, wrenched the shoe off of her middle daughter’s foot and cradled her in her arms as if she were a baby.

“It’s my slipper!” wailed Iris. “I swear it is! My feet are just swollen, from all the dancing we did last night -- ”

Andre crossed his arms, his eyes rather dull. “Iris, really -- after how long you stayed in the palace, you don’t think I know full well your feet wouldn’t have fit this shoe?”

Iris was so startled that her tears stilled in her wide eyes.

“King Cosimo deserves better than a woman who would only treat him as an object she can use to her own advantage,” Andre said very coldly. “Just as Carewyn deserves better than being around someone who cowardly tears her down when she thinks no one else can hear her.”

Iris’s face lost all of its color.

“Y...Your Highness -- ” she said shakily, but Andre had already turned his back on her.

“Speaking of Carewyn,” he said airily, “it seems she’s the only one left who could save your father now, Master Cromwell. I sincerely hope you haven’t damaged her feet the way you have your other nieces’...”

Blaise’s jaw clenched.

“I’m afraid Winnie has...disappeared, your Highness,” he murmured. “Just last night, in fact.”

Andre raised his eyebrows coolly. “Really? Well, I can’t say I blame her, under the circumstances.”

He turned to KC and Erika. “Well then, if she’s not here to speak for Lord Cromwell, then there’s no sense in delaying. Let us be off for the palace -- Father will want to know we’ve captured the final culprit in the plot against King Cosimo and prepare the execution block...”

He swept out the door of the manor, Erika and KC behind him, perfectly ignoring how Blaise, Pearl, and Claire dashed after him.

“Your Highness, please -- ”

“We can more than pay any penalty -- please reconsider -- ”

“Please don’t do this -- ”

“I will only accept King Cosimo’s princess’s defense of Charles Cromwell,” Andre reiterated coldly without looking for them. “You clearly don’t have her under your roof, so this discussion is over.”

“But Winnie might still fit the shoe!” said Claire desperately.

Pearl and Blaise shot her a thoroughly appalled look.

“Claire, how dare you suggest such a thing!” snarled Blaise. “As if a low-bred girl like our Winnie could ever charm a King!”

Claire trembled, but actually managed to stand her ground for once.

“B-but her feet are a strange size!” she whispered to her siblings desperately. “They’ve always been ugly and narrow and misshapen -- her shoes were always falling off! And...oh, Blaise, if she could fit the shoe, then at least Father won’t...won’t...”

She broke off, the last flicker of her courage having long been spent.

Both Pearl and Blaise looked like they’d swallowed a lemon. One could wonder what horrified them more -- the thought of having to appeal to Carewyn for help in saving Charles’s life, or the thought that she might actually end up fitting the shoe and becoming Queen of Florence.

Despite the nausea in Pearl’s expression, she nonetheless seemed to come down on Claire’s side. As stupid as Claire could be...Andre himself had said Carewyn was their only hope now.

“Just...just give us time to find Winnie, your Highness,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “She can’t have gotten too far...”

Andre crossed his arms. “Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

“One.”

Everyone turned to look at Charles. He was sitting very still on the boot of the coach in chains. His eyes were so dark in how they glinted that his pale face resembled a skull with diamonds trapped behind his eye sockets.

“There is a boy under your employ called Bill Weasley who trespassed here a week or so ago with his brother, demanding to see my dear Winnie when she was too ill for visitors,” he said in a very cold, detached voice. “Perhaps you should ask him where he’s taken my granddaughter.”

Andre’s lips spread into a very pleased smile. They hadn’t visited the Weasleys’ home since the only single girl who lived there was eleven-year-old Ginny...but Bill and Charlie had planned to sneak Carewyn out that night with Talbott and Badeea, so even if she’d chosen to stay at Talbott or Badeea’s home or even somewhere else, they would undoubtedly know where she was staying.

“You know the way to the Weasley family home, right, KC?” Andre asked over his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Very well -- perhaps they’ll have Carewyn’s new address, then.”

It took Andre’s royal entourage and the accompanying Cromwell coaches about two hours to migrate up the mountains that held the Weasley home. Blaise, Pearl, and Claire had all insisted on coming on behalf of Charles, and Blaise hated the thought of anyone besides him tending to Tristan, so soon the entire Cromwell clan had been piled into their family carriages. Dahlia, Iris, and Heather in particular had to be carried from the house into the carriages by their father, Arsen, and Kain, since their feet were still in too much pain for them to walk on them.

Fred and George had spotted the approaching entourage first, from their spot dangling out of the nearby trees while picking apples with Ron and Percy. The four boys barreled back to the house to get Arthur and Molly, but it wasn’t long after they’d told their mother everything they saw that the sound of whinnying horses signaled their arrival. And as soon as Blaise opened the door of his white coach, he stiffened sharply at the sound of a familiar voice singing through an open upstairs window -- one that, when Andre opened his own gold coach, made the Prince beam from ear to ear.

“I love to dance, dilly, dilly, I love to sing; When I am queen, dilly, dilly, you'll be my king. Who told me so, dilly, dilly, who told me so? I told myself, dilly, dilly, I told me so.”

It was Carewyn. For you see, when the Weasleys returned to the Burrow in the wee hours of the dawn after Orion’s coronation ball, they were delighted to find Bill sitting by the fire, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his arms wrapped around Charlie and Carewyn, both of whom were sleeping soundly with their heads resting against his chest. Bill had just barely managed to hush his younger siblings so as not to wake the two, and Molly immediately bustled around to fetch another couple of blankets to wrap around all three of them, as well as some pillows so as to make Bill more comfortable. In the morning, Carewyn had been pretty set on leaving to find her own place -- but as one might expect, all of the Weasleys shut that idea down, passionately insisting that she stay with them.

“No, I can’t put you at that kind of risk,” Carewyn had said insistently. “My grandfather will be angry enough to know that I ran away -- if he knew Bill and Charlie had a hand in it, that you all were harboring me -- ”

Arthur took hold of Carewyn’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry about us, Carewyn. I don’t fear Charles Cromwell a ruddy bit, and that goes for Molly too.”

Molly nodded. “Definitely! And after the things we’ve heard, Carewyn...oh, dearie, there’s no way in the world we could ever let you go back to that...that...”

“Demon in human skin?” finished Charlie darkly.

“Not the words I would have chosen, but yes,” sniffed Molly.

Carewyn opened her mouth to argue further, but Bill leaned in to give her a light, chiding tap to her nose.

“Don’t argue with them, Carey -- once Mum’s made up her mind, there’s no changing it.” He grinned. “She’s rather like you that way.”

Carewyn’s expression melted into a weaker, watery smile.

“...Thank you,” she whispered. “All of you...thank you.”

And so now, at the moment that Andre and the Cromwells had arrived at the Burrow, Carewyn had been cleaning in the upstairs hallway, singing as she always did whenever she was working.

Ginny, Molly, and Arthur rushed out of the house, greeting him, KC, and Erika with smiles and hugs. Erika in particular was very confused by the family’s almost aggressive amiability, but Andre responded in full, squeezing Ginny as if she were his own sister and clapping Arthur warmly on the back. It was not a welcome revelation for any of the Cromwells, to see the Prince on such good terms with the family of the people who they thought had stolen Carewyn away. And when Molly volunteered to go fetch Carewyn, she came down dressed in a modest teal dress (a hand-me-down from Molly, which Molly and Carewyn had managed to tailor enough to fit her), Bill and Charlie just behind her.

“Carewyn!”

Andre opened both of his arms and brought them around Carewyn in a warm embrace.

“Andre, it’s so good to see you,” she murmured, closing her eyes to try to hold in her emotion.

The Crown Prince pulled back enough to look her over.

“That color is absolutely radiant on you,” he fawned over her. He glanced at the neatly tied bow in her ponytail. “Especially with your ribbon...a pale blue like that is a perfect shade to contrast your hair.”

Carewyn smiled wryly. “Well, light blue is my favorite color. My real one, I mean.”

Andre blinked, before his face broke out into an even broader smile. “Oh, that’s so much better than ash gray!”

Carewyn’s gaze was then caught by what was attached to the boot of Andre’s coach. The sight of Charles Cromwell locked up in chains, his diamond-like eyes boring into her with an endless, dark stare, made all traces of a smile fade from her face.

Charlie, however, couldn’t fight back a huge, smug grin.

“Well, well,” the second-eldest Weasley spoke to Charles dryly, “if it isn’t Lord Cromwell. Not so high-and-mighty now, are you, you no-good feck?”

“Charlie,” said Bill, but his voice was hardly reproachful as he glared down at Charles. “Don’t waste your breath on the likes of him: he’s not worth it.”

“I do believe I made it clear that your family was to stay away from mine, Bill Weasley,” said Charles in a very low, dangerous voice. “You have a lot of nerve, to steal from me -- ”

“That’s just it, though, Lord Cromwell,” Bill cut him off, his voice growing a bit quieter and harder. He brought an arm around Carewyn, bringing her right up against his side protectively, the same way Jacob might have so long ago. “Carey is my family. So I intend to do whatever I have to make sure you and the rest of your lot never lay a foul hand on her again.”

Blaise’s eyes flashed dangerously. “How dare you -- !”

He raised a hand as if to try to strike Bill, but Carewyn stepped in his way.

“Blaise,” she said in an unusually sharp voice, “the entire Cromwell family was slated to attend the masked ball hosted by the King of Florence...and yet I was not counted among you enough for Grandfather to even consider taking me with you. You can hardly expect me to be considered part of your family now.”

Blaise went sullenly silent. Carewyn looked up at Bill, her stoic expression unable to completely contain the gratitude and affection she felt toward her friend, before she turned to face Andre more seriously.

“Andre...” she said slowly, “it’s not that I’m not glad to see you, but...what is all of this? Why did you bring them here?”

Andre’s eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Last night at the masked ball,” the Prince of Royaume explained, “King Cosimo met a beautiful, mysterious woman dressed as a robin in a pair of shoes made of what looked like colored glass. He danced with this woman and no one else, before the two disappeared from the ballroom altogether. It was only just before midnight that they reemerged, with the woman dashing across the ballroom toward the front doors...the lovestruck King running after her, begging her not to go.”

Andre’s lips curled up in a wider smile.

“This ‘mysterious princess,’ as everyone at the ball called her, had warned King Cosimo of a planned attempt on his life. Had she not come to the ball and danced with the King, it’s certain that he would’ve died, and that all hope for peace between Royaume and Florence would have died with him. Yet she fled the ball so quickly that she never got the recognition she deserved from either my father or King Cosimo for her courage. And because of the powerful illusion she disguised herself with, which made her look different to every single person at the ball, no one knows who she is.”

Andre swept over to the coach, picking up the beautiful hand-painted "stained glass” slipper he’d left on the seat. He cradled it in both hands as he showed it to those assembled. Carewyn’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon it.

“This glass slipper,” said Andre, his smile broadening enough to show his white teeth, “is the only thing she left behind that night, as any indicator of her identity...and whether because of some magic in the shoe or the talents of some incredibly talented master of fashion,” he waggled his eyebrows cheekily, “it has not fit any of the hundreds of women who have claimed to be its owner, seeking to earn King Cosimo’s hand in marriage.”

He beamed at Carewyn much more warmly.

“I seem to recall, however...that you possess a set of feet that is very difficult to properly shoe.”

Carewyn looked from the slipper to up at Andre. Her face was very stoic, but her blue eyes rippled with something deeper.

“I do believe I said that the Cromwells did not allow me to attend the ball, Andre.”

“Yes,” granted Andre. “But our mysterious princess didn’t come with the Cromwells.”

“This ‘princess’ also very clearly wanted no recognition for her ‘courage,’” said Carewyn, crossing her arms. “Why else would she wear such a thorough disguise? Why else would she run from the King before the stroke of midnight, when this illusion she supposedly wore would’ve worn off?”

Andre looked a bit embarrassed. “Well, perhaps...but for a woman so brave...well, it seems rather strange, to want to hide...to deny the best parts of herself: avoid a chance at true happiness, with someone who clearly loves her.”

Carewyn faltered. Andre smiled fondly.

“Please,” he said, “won’t you just try the slipper on? I promise, I cleaned it on the way here.”

Carewyn had to suppress a giggle behind her hand. Her eyes slowly softened upon Andre’s face, before she finally relented and gave a nod.

Charles, Blaise, Claire, Pearl, and the Cromwell cousins all sticking their heads out of their white coaches all watched as the Prince of Royaume bent down in front of his friend, letting her lift her skirt enough to expose her feet. Slipping one of her way-too-big brown shoes off, Carewyn then easily slid her foot into the stained glass slipper.

Which, of course, fit like a glove.

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kitemist · 3 years

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I wrote a post on twitter called: “Unpopular Opinion: You’re a fake ally.”

I had to write it after my ex-best friend never ceased to amaze me with how horrible of an ally she is, with the added insult of false promises that always break.

It got zero traction on twitter because I don’t have that many followers on there, or people who really interact with me, but I want to post it here too.

From here onwards, it’s copy and pasted from the exact twitter post, and I would appreciate feedback in a civil manner if you want.

“What’s something that you’ll get a lot of hate for if you said it out loud?” I’m going to be subtweeting a very specific person when I say this but I’m going to forward it to you all too. If you feel uncomfortable from what I’m saying, I am definitely talking about you. I’ve seen this several times with this specific person with the added insult of a record of broken promises to be better, as well as the same thing over the past few years from other people, so I am pissed enough to speak out. Obviously, this is just my opinion, disagreements are going to happen, I’m not forcing anyone to do anything, just asking you to read if you want. If a person, or more relevantly, group of people needs help, and you retweet, repost, share, post to your story, spread in any way that you can their cries for help like infographics, GoFundMe’s, links to online wallets, emergency commissions, news updates and all that; if you donate to such things and spread them around; push people to do the same; if you do donation commissions and give the money attained from that to them; bring it up in conversations with them and others every now and then; but you don’t emotionally help your everyday member of that group or that person, especially if they are your FRIEND, YOU ARE A FAKE ALLY. I do not care if you do everything else. If you don’t do that one thing, you’re a fake ally. And doing everything else doesn’t make you a good person either, if that is how you judge yourself and others. And if you're uncomfortable, then leave now. Doing everything else and not that is literally no different than 1 like for water for Africa, those old pics that would ask for likes during early facebook days, with the added insult of a trending event/group of people with it and resurging every now and then whenever something horrible happens, and they’re always seen first. You just click on those things to reassure people that you’re not THAT kind of an insensitive asshole, but then you just feel great about yourself that you added to that number even though you have only done the bare minimum, because you ultimately don’t want to get TOO involved in something that makes you uncomfortable, and give yourself a great pat on the back for all the hard work you’ve done just pressing that button. You obviously don’t care about this issue enough to throw your comfort zone aside, even for just a second. We don’t have that choice to not see it like you do, and we feel a lot more than just “uncomfortable”. For WAY longer. Doing those things without emotionally supporting the actual people just separates yourself from the problem in a convenient way. Passing thoughts and prayers and especially clicks on posts aren’t going to help anyone but a completely detached algorithm. You do not get credit for doing the bare minimum and expect the same rewards as passionate, achieving activists. I’m not just talking about #StopAAPIHate just because it’s trending right now, this applies to literally every hashtag that is the only way of a group of people’s cries for help that generates some kind of attention to everyone else that people care about. I’ve seen it be a pattern for enough time now. I’ve seen stories of people who would use #BlackLivesMatter, or the name of any black person who died, as a way to spread it by their banner or profile picture or even turn it into a meme that pushes people to sign their latest petitions, but then completely disrespect actual black people or don’t do anything else for their causes. The only reason you would ever do this is because you care about other people’s approval of you, not actual POC, and you only ever see them as a trend or a platform to be trendy. As a POC myself, we are more than just a fucking hashtag on twitter. We’re more than just a label to reassure people that you’re not a bully. We’re people. But I guess that’s too hard to understand for those fake allies, all they ever see is something to click on, and they’ll get the same credit as those genuine allies without having to work. Or be UNCOMFORTABLE, God forbid you have to step outside of the comfortable world you think you live in. Now for donating money. I get that monetary support isn’t something that everyone can afford to do. I’m not forcing or expecting everyone to do that or not do that. If you can’t, then I recommend spreading donation posts, for the hope for it to come by someone who can and will. You can then still be a vehicle for help if you cannot provide it yourself. But I know that everyone is capable of being completely fake when it comes to donations when they have that kind of money to spare. You can totally just dump $100 or so into a GoFundMe, and never interact with anything related to that group of people ever again and live a completely separate life, with that same convenient separation, but with a receipt this time so that if it’s brought up again, that’s all you have to show to say to them to not worry, you did something, you’re not THAT kind of fake asshole because your wallet is involved this time. It’s what youtubers do when they have to make a YouTube apology just so everyone can stop hating on them for a little while. Anyone can do that. I’m not assuming the worst in everyone, I’m saying you don’t need a platform to be an asshole. Money doesn’t make you better or worse than anyone else, it just shows that you’re more financially well off to be able to donate and that’s something that we can appreciate, but it’s not pure sentiment. Money isn’t feelings. It’s just money. It doesn’t tell us anything about your morals. It doesn’t care how you obtained it and it doesn’t care where you spend it. Donating from your heart and donating from your wallet are two very different things, but it’s not like we can tell from here, so we can’t give you credit for that, especially if those donations are also in the complete public eye. That kind of difference is only discernable to us long after, and even then, that requires some detective work and pattern searching with other donations you have made in the past, if any. Sometimes we don’t even have that time to see if that genuine empathy would come about or not. Whether or not you have a heart in that donation or not, it’s not like we can read your mind as you press confirm. The money doesn’t tell us your feelings, morals, or your heart. Only you can. And you have to WORK to tell us that. You can be appreciated for giving a monetary donation, but that appreciation is toward the money and not at you as a person, and if it is, it’s not towards the real you, it’s only towards you at that time and who knows if that’s gonna change within a minute, or was superficial the entire time, or if it’s the real ally we all knew we needed. We wouldn’t know, all we see is a name and a money amount. Those real allies take time to come out and solidify themselves within themselves and within others, but it’s not as soon as their money disappears. You don’t get credit as a person and your morals when it was the money and temporary self at that time that ultimately helped them. Just because you were behind that money doesn’t mean that the morals associated with you are in that money, and who knows if you were the same person as you made that donation a week ago. Do you know exactly where the dollar bills you have right now have gone through? How many inhumane multi million dollar corporations, or funding something harmful? If you can separate yourself from that, then the money you’re giving can easily be separated from you in both morals and in bank accounts. That’s what you’re choosing to give away as well when you make a donation. If you’re completely fine with that, then donate if you still want to. Just know that by doing that, it doesn’t make you special. In the end, the only thing received is money, not thoughts. That money is completely useless if it’s not being spent towards that needed relief, after all. You can also totally give out of obligation or social pressure instead of believing in the cause or caring about the person affected. That’s not being a real ally either. That’s hopping on a bandwagon because that attracts you more than what the cause is, because the value of human life doesn’t line up with your own. You would only care about this BECAUSE it’s trending, not because it has ever gotten to your emotions, morals, or anything you care about. Giving a donation or not doesn’t tell anyone anything about you, other than how relatively well off you are in terms of money and time, and that’s not relevant to what’s being asked. Donations can have so many motives behind it, and you are not free of those motives just because we can’t see it immediately, and those motives are completely lost once that money is received and eventually used. Money can be helpful in terms of alleviating the situation, but ultimately, it’s not help in placing you on a moral scale whether it’s others judging your character or just judging yourself. And there’s also the risk of donating to a complete scam, and again, money doesn’t care where it’s going to or where it’s coming from, because it’s just money. Not everything that is asking for donations is a scam, but because of this possibility, what you claim to be your one act of good will from your heart in the form of monetary support can easily be debunked and ultimately be used against you whether you were aware of this being a scam before then or not, because the internet is very reactive more than anything else. And if you are donating from your heart and you end up donating to a scam, that’s just even more emotional damage to you as well as the cause, an even worse situation. So again, monetary support isn’t any better than what I determine to be the one defining factor of being a good ally. It’s just a different kind of support that can be useful but it’s not with any heart in it. And because most of those people asking for donations would say that even a little bit helps, the amount of money you’re donating doesn’t give you more credit than others, it just puts you higher on the highest donations list that is made by another detached algorithm, which is ultimately meaningless except for telling whoever clicks on that list how much money you were willing to spare to them, and not what you were thinking when you did it. To be a real ally, that’s a constant effort more than just money or spreading posts. It’s something that can’t ever be measured or manipulated by any algorithm. And I know that the majority of “allies” die out as soon as it’s not trending anymore. It’s happened enough times and how much it happens just has it be a part of a trend’s life cycle on the internet, and that temporary life in the public life can vary greatly. That constant effort also does not (solely) consist of making more donations to more places. That’s just another kind of monetary help that’s ultimately just money. That doesn’t tell anyone anything about you other than that you can afford to do so and being able to afford to do this can sway you on either end of the moral scale, whether you care about that or not. To give an example, the overwhelming response to the Notre Dame fire in 2018 showed what could have been possible if everyone donated what they could, and of course the response to that has never happened to any disaster before, and to my knowledge, ever since. All those millionaires and some netizens credited themselves with their affluent donations but everyone else only saw them as those who ultimately did nothing when any other disaster also needed help in the past and since then, so those donations didn’t make them any kind of ally even though they gave more than the majority of the world can ever afford to give in their lifetimes. Why didn’t every other disaster that lasted longer, had more casualties and damage, had more emotionally traumatic damage that lasted from then onwards, have as much support as this one fire that didn’t completely destroy this building? With almost a billion dollars (954 million USD) donated towards restoration in such a short amount of time, there was still anger, especially towards those who have donated that. And people who have donated copious amounts were also not technically millionaires, but still made and had enough to be part of that same 1%. And anyone can be in that nonspecific well-off group, not just people who were born rich or inherited it. There have been debates that this was a matter of how personally interested these rich people suddenly became because they saw the Notre Dame as a beautiful tourist spot full of history, even though there was a museum in Brazil that was nearly completely destroyed, with majority of its contents and even more history gone forever on the same day and didn’t get a fraction as much attention as this did, and got even less donations. Therefore, monetary support doesn’t give you, or anyone, any more moral high ground, no matter how much it is, because again, it’s just money. It can be help, but not like human support. All that being said, I still think it’s great if you can afford to keep donating to people in need, but if you want to make your support stronger and genuine or have a solid foundation that can be paired and amplified with monetary support, it won’t cost you anything but your time and changing behavior. And right now, I bet everyone reading right now has a lot of those two if their wallet is empty. To do so: • Learn about our struggles. We’re not asking you to be total experts on this, but to know enough to answer, “What can I do to help?” and “What do they need right now?” and it’s best to have them answered by us. Listen to us. And keep making more questions the more that are answered. The best way to learn is to ask. • Speak out against hate speech of any kind from anyone, no matter how much you like them, when you see it in the moment, and hold them accountable. Just saying racism is bad isn’t going to help anyone, but to call out a specific person as a racist will challenge them, because there’s more at stake than just a fact that racism is bad. Whether you want to be polite about it or not is your choice, whichever is more effective. Their feelings are definitely not more important than what they are contributing to the problem. • Emotionally check up on us, we aren’t fine if we have to see more of our family’s beat up faces on the news and screens, or see our family and friends being even more scared to go outside with every passing day. Whether it’s talking about the main situation in depth or providing a respite in the form of having fun when asked; emotional check ups are what makes you the real ally first. • Reassure us that whether or not this is just another trend you see everywhere on social media for the day, you’ll always be there for us, and then hold up that promise, follow through with it whenever we are in trouble. If you consistently do this, it won’t turn into a super conscious decision anymore to be an ally, you’ll reprogram yourself to learn and think that you are now involved and can fight with us, whether or not this becomes something in the twitter sidebar to look at. • Acknowledge your privilege as someone who isn’t targeted and, depending on who you are, would never be targeted, in whatever way that would be, and use it as a weapon for us if applicable. Ex. if you’re white and straight and the current group that needs help is not white and not straight, let them speak about their struggles, amplify their voices because you have the privilege of having more people taking you seriously and paying attention to you, and learn about what you can do to help them and make their life easier with them knowing you are an ally. Redirect that attention and authenticity to us because we sure can’t make it by ourselves. • Learn and involve yourself in our culture if that helps you learn more about us, that is not appropriation. We totally welcome people who want to learn more about us in a respectful and open-minded way. You are a constant learner in doing this, as well as doing any or all of the above-mentioned tasks. There’s no real end to being an ally, just as there is no real end to the fight. It’s always better to ask questions than to keep it to yourself and mess up. There was always a better time to learn all of this, but the second-best time is right now. Just because you never learned this earlier doesn’t mean you can’t start to change that. We won’t shame you if today has to be your first day as long as you stay just as eager and able to receive criticism from then onwards. Even if you become well educated, don’t act like you know exactly what it’s like. Because no matter how educated you become, you are ultimately not us. Keep that in mind as you embark on your journey. Constant effort is what every single one of those groups need, I guarantee that. It’s such a great skill that can be used in anything. Consistency is rare and powerful and key in achieving nearly anything you want. But that’s not something we can automatically detect and always takes time to make happen, there’s no shortcut to that. Are you just going to retweet these for a day or week or month or two, or are you going to speak out whether you are going to put a tag on it or not? Are you just going to donate a small fraction of your paycheck once or are you going to keep going whenever you can and donate to even more people that need help that isn’t just part of that group? All we see is that one instance, and people are pouring either their first or their first and last instances of helping us, and there’s no way to differentiate who’s what until that first wave dies down. And that is a journey of watching it be less and less important on the timelines, growing disappointment and sorrow that we have always felt from the beginning, something that no one outside of the current targetted trending group, or anyone who has ever trended, can ever understand or experience. It’s like wearing halloween costumes that are clearly a costume from another culture. You can wear that costume, or in that case, that hashtag for a day. We wear that stigma for life. I hope this post makes you reconsider what you’ve been doing in terms of fighting for social justice, or at the very least, make you uncomfortable enough to think about what you have been doing for such groups of people who need help. Obviously if you are a real ally as I’ve described by not only doing monetary donations if applicable, but fighting back, constantly learning, and emotionally supporting and checking up on your friends constantly, this post isn’t talking about you. And if you don’t want to learn about all this stuff that can be towards the better, then there’s nothing that can ever help you. That’s just willful ignorance at that point and I as well as others are completely free to judge you for that. On the note of being a good person or bad person, I know that’s not how everyone wants to judge themselves. Looking deep enough, it can be subjective, or just a matter of good actions and bad actions instead of good people and bad people. Either way, you have that “good” and “bad” judgement on something, even though that concept itself is also a spectrum, and at times, they can be applied to both people and actions, such as a good person making a bad decision or a bad person making their first good deed. So, whether it’s actions or people, being a “good person” doesn’t excuse you from your mistakes or shitty decisions. A good record can just be completely shattered at any time. A lot of people who we have thought were “good” have been exposed, and those who we thought were “bad” have been redeemed. It’s celebrated in fiction, but apparently not welcomed in real life. And improving your allyship as I described above doesn’t automatically make you a “good person”, if that judgement is what you have for yourself or want to have for yourself, but it IS a very “good action” to get started in expanding your world beyond what you initially knew before this post, because it’s always a “good action” to constantly question what you know before making judgements or actions. That constant questioning is learning and not being compliant with how things are, because things can always be better. Being a bad person entails not caring about doing better and is magnified by being two-faced like being a fake ally. And you can also stop caring at any time about yourself and what your morals are. Not all fake allies are “bad people,” maybe they just needed an awareness check that emotional support makes all of their previous work or work afterwards more authentic and appreciated. I don’t blame anyone who really didn’t think that emotional support wasn’t part of helping those who need it and now take that fact in stride, or just didn’t know how to do that in the first place. But all “bad people” are fake allies because they don’t care enough outside of themselves to change what their environment presents themselves with, or just complain about it without bothering to question or research why things are that way. And obviously, “bad people” would contribute to the problem by either never being an ally in the first place or do the bare minimum in allyship and expect rewards without being caught in the stress that comes with actually fighting for a cause. So, if you read this entire post and are one of those people who do the bare minimum but want the rewards, or think I and others are just too sensitive, and have no intention or desire to change any of your actions around pleas for help from groups of people or even start to think about changing that, I would think you’re a bad person. But that’s only how I judge you. I know plenty of bad people who go on and life happily knowing how many people hate them whether they know them personally or not. If you’re taking that so personally, you could have left much earlier in this longass post. I don’t know what you expected with me talking about this topic and somehow not being super cordial about it. I don’t owe you a polite tone or managing your feelings, and neither does anyone else. If you really think my tone is the problem here more than anything I have ever explained in this post I guarantee you’re a bad person who is just looking for an excuse to completely dismiss this even though you had the opportunity to do so much earlier, around 4,000 words ago. And if you really need someone else to help you with your fragile and insecure feelings, I guarantee that they’re not on the internet. Again, to reiterate, this is just my opinion, feel free to tell me any of your own. I’m not forcing anyone to do or stop doing anything, I just appreciate that you read this far. I hope you reconsider how to fight for your loved ones that aren’t as well off as you are, or how to fight alongside others who have been though the struggles of being either underprivileged or just not as well off. Thank you.

#whiteOnslaught rambles #long post #social justice #stopaapihate #blacklivesmatter #blm #stopasianhate #protectasianlives

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constantviewings · 4 years

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The TV Show Trials - Christmas Movies

‘Tis the season! I’m steering off course this month to review films instead of a TV show, because a TV show that’s only about christmas wouldn’t make much money.

White Christmas

A successful song-and-dance duo become romantically involved with a sister act and team up to save the failing Vermont inn of their former commanding general by planning a yuletide musical extravaganza.

This film is iconic, and I loved every second of it. The costumes in this film are gorgeous and I want to own every single one. I plan on making a tradition out of watching this every year.

Rating: 5

Elf

Buddy is a human who was adopted and raised by Santa’s elves. He learns about this and heads to New York City to meet his biological father while also spreading Christmas cheer in a world of cynics in the process.

I feel the need to proceed my thoughts with the fact that I have never been a fan of Will Ferrell, and I am not a fan of this movie. Most of the jokes come down to Will Ferrell either screaming or being dumb. Also, not be overly sensitive, I’ve never been a fan of casting a bit role for a dwarved actor just to make jokes that they’re short.

Rating: 2

Scrooged

Based on Charles Dickins’ A Christmas Carol, Scrooged is a modern retelling that follows Frank Cross, a cynical and selfish television executive, who is visited by a succession of ghosts on Christmas Even Intent on helping him regain his Christmas spirit.

The film does drag in the first act, but once the ghost of Christmas present shows up, it only gets better. I thought the touch of Bill Murray ‘interacting’ with the audience is a fun way to close out this entertaining film.

Rating: 3

It’s A Wonderful Life

George Bailey has given up his dreams in order to help others, and his imminent suicide on Christmas Even brings about the intervention of his guardians angel, Clarence. Clarence shows George all the lives he has touched, and how different life in his community would be if he had never been born.

This is a beautiful film with a great sentiment, but my god is it boring! Like everyone else, all I really knew about this film was the ending, and that is truly the only part that I enjoyed. By now you should all know how I feel about films longer than eighty minutes, and at one-hundred and thirty-five minutes, this film is way too long.

Rating: 3

Crown for Christmas

After getting fired from her job as a maid at a ritzy New York City hotel, Allie reluctantly accepts a temporary job as the governess to the daughter of the King of Winshire. Soon, Sparks begin to fly between Allie and the king.

This film is just A Christmas Prince (which is coming up) but, in my opinion, better. The editing is pretty tragic, but it makes up for that with heart. I am always a sucker for father-daughter stories.

Rating: 3

A Very Harold & Kumar Christmas

Six years after their last adventure, Harold is asked to look after a Christmas tree by his father-in-law, but his ex-roommate Kumar ends up destroying it. The two then set out to find a replacement for the damaged tree.

Despite my earlier comments about Will Ferrell, I am a sucker for irreverent comedy and this film is full of it. I’m also a sucker for goofy 3D, another feature of this film. Also, Neil Patrick Harris is always great to see, especially in this.

Rating: 3

A Charlie Brown Christmas

Charlie Brown finds himself depressed despite to onset of the cheerful holiday season. Lucy suggests he direct a neighbourhood Christmas play, but his best efforts are ignored and mocked by his peers. After Linus tells Charlie Brown the true meaning of Christmas, Charlie Brown cheers up, and the Peanuts gang unites to celebrate the Christmas season.

This special is weirdly anti-commercialist? As well as being very boring, I can guarantee that I won’t be re-watching this.

Rating: 2

The Muppet Christmas Carol

The Muppet characters tell their version of the classic tale of Scrooge, an old miser who doesn’t care about the joyous season of Christmas is visited by spirits who foretell his future. Will Scrooge turn over a new leaf and change his ways?

This has earned it place as my second favourite Christmas Carol adaptations; behind the Barbie version, of course. Like any Muppets film, it’s entertaining, funny and the songs are great. I also really want one of this tiny mouse muppets.

Rating: 4

Klaus

A simple act of kindness always sparks another, even in a frozen, faraway place. When Smeerensburg’s new postman, Jesper, befriends toymaker Klaus, their gifts melt an age-old fued and deliver a sleigh full of holiday traditions.

This film has a beautiful heart, but is tonally dissonant in the first half. Once Klaus and Jesper start delivering their presents, it picks up drastically. The heart-warming story, mixed with the gorgeous animation makes for a cute Christmas film.

Rating: 4

A Christmas Prince

When a reporter goes undercover as a tutor to get the inside scoop on a playboy prince, she gets tangled in some royal intrigue and ends up finding love - but will she be able to keep up her lie?

How did this film get two sequels, it’s so boring?

Rating: 3

Krampus

Frustrated by the constant quarrel between the members of his dysfunctional family, max loses interest to celebrate Christmas, awakening Krampus, a demon who will punish his entire family.

Making a tonal 180, we land on this film; which I adore. The creature design for Krampus and his minions is fantastic and the family dynamic is perfect. My only gripe is that the whole film is too dark, visually, I don’t like struggling to watch movies.

Rating: 5

Better Watch Out

Ashley travels to the suburban home of the Lemers to babysit their 12-year-old son Luke during the holidays. She must soon defend herself and the young boy when unwelcome intruders announce their arrival.

I hate home intruder films, by that I mean they scare the shit out of me, so I actually love them. I’m not going to spoil this film, because it is best to go in with all I’ve given you already. I loved this movie and the cast does an amazing job, especially Levi Miller.

Rating: 4

Christmas Under Wraps

When a doctor doesn’t get the position she wanted, she ends up movie to a remote Alaskan town. She unexpectedly ends up finding love, happiness and discovers that the small town is hiding a big holiday secret.

I don’t know why I expected more from the most popular Hallmark film, but this isn’t much. Also, this Santa’s pretty shit if he only leaves on Christmas Eve in Alaska, he would have already missed half of the world.

Rating: 3

Magical Christmas Ornaments

Marie finds her Christmas spirit reawakened when her mother begins sending her the family’s Christmas ornaments. As each ornament arrives, it brings a positive change to Marie’s life, including an introduction to the handsome man from next door.

This film, is the worse precursor to The Holiday Calendar on Netflix. There’s nothing wrong with this film, but maybe watch The Holiday Calendar instead.

Rating: 3

Jack Whitehall: Christmas with My Father

Jack Whitehall invites his notoriously stuffy father onstage in London’s West End for a Christmas comedy extravaganza, complete with celebrity guests.

Is it a fun watch? Yes. Will I watch it again? No.

Rating: 3

Christmas is easily my favourite time of the year, and I hope it’s pleasent you as well. I’m wishing you the happiest of holiday seasons and a fantastic 2020!

#The TV Show Trials #White Christmas #Elf #Scrooged #It's A Wonderful Life #A Crown For Christmas #A Very Harold and Kumar Chrismas #A Charlie Brown Christmas #A Muppet Christmas Carol #Klaus #A Christmas Prince #Krampus #Better Watch Out #Christmas Under Wraps #Magical Christmas Ornaments #Jack Whitehall #Film Reviews #Happy Holidays

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for-the-dales · 5 years

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Chapter 3: Cullen

Chapter 1 (Leliana): https://for-the-dales.tumblr.com/post/185692342364/the-path-forward-chapter-1-leliana

In the three days since the explosion, Cullen still hadn’t managed to identify all of the dead. The first priority had of course been ensuring the safety of the survivors. Scouts had been working in shifts to hunt down demons still in the valley. Soldiers that could stand had been deployed to dispatch them, but only in large groups. They had to cover each other; they couldn’t afford to lose any more people. Josephine’s help had been invaluable in identifying the dead and writing to the families. Cullen was writing out another note of condolence when a young page appeared inside his tent and stood at attention.

“Commander, the… survivor is awake.”

“Thank you, let Seeker Pentaghast know I will meet her shortly in the Chantry.”

The young boy saluted and quickly turned on his heel to deliver the message. Cullen had heard the pause in the boy’s voice. The survivor. People around Haven were already beginning to use a different name. Cullen had expressly forbade his soldiers to use this new title, not until she woke up. But that moment was here now. This would be an interesting conversation. Cullen tidied his desk and left for the chantry. Word had already spread through camp that the woman, Ellana, was awake. Crowds were gathering around her hut, barely even trying to stay quiet. The crowds made room for Cullen to pass through but just barely. Cullen briefly considering ordering the people to disperse, but he didn’t really think it would help. As soon as he left they would regroup. Everyone wanted to see her.

The Herald of Andraste.

As soon as he reached the relative privacy of the chantry he closed the door behind him and rested his head against it. He could already feel a headache coming on. He breathed. In and out. Counted to five. Counted to ten. One more breath. Cullen sighed and pushed himself off the door and turned to walk to the room that they had been using as a command center. Leliana stood behind him. Cullen would never admit to jumping, just a little.

“Commander.”

Cullen eyed the spymaster, “Leliana.”

It wasn’t that Cullen didn’t trust Leliana. He did, he would trust her with his life. She was the best at what she did. That didn’t stop him from always being slightly unnerved by her presence. She had a knack for knowing everything and that made him nervous. It was the same feeling he had experienced when he was young and his mother used his full name. Leliana inspired the same knot in his stomach. She smiled at the commander in a way that made Cullen think she knew exactly what he had been thinking, then turned and walked towards the room at the far end of the Chantry. She didn’t look back to make sure Cullen was following. He was. Cassandra and Josephine were already there, joined, to Cullen’s annoyance, by Chancellor Roderick.

“Have you gone completely mad? She should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately,” Roderick bellowed, “to be tried by whoever becomes Divine!”

Cassandra shook her head, “I do not believe she is guilty.”

Roderick scoffed and continued, “The elf failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky. For all you know, she intended it this way!”

Cassandra’s voice stayed calm but Cullen could see the little lines emerging at the side of her eyes, “I do not believe that.”

“That is not for you to decide!”

Cullen shook his head, arguing with that man was not a fight they could win. The former Templar was the first to hear the knock at the door. It was slight at first, but then a second more insistent knock followed.

Cullen’s brow creased before he called, “Come in.”

The door opened and Cullen got his first look at the survivor. Ellana, he reminded himself. She was taller than many of the elves Cullen had met in the circle, likely the same height as Josephine. Her face devoted most of its space to her large unusually green eyes and a long, straight nose that seemed to descend more from her lower brow than the middle of her face. Many of the elves Cullen had known would do things to hide how different they looked from humans, but not this woman. Her dark curls were pulled back away from her face in an intricate braid that proudly showed off her features. Her eyes and nose were highlighted by the branching lines of her tattoos that covered almost her entire forehead and nose. A line from the bottom of the nose extended over her lips and down to a smaller design on her chin. From there more roots branched down her neck in complex designs. The lines on her high, prominent cheekbones seemed to point directly to her large drooped ears laden with little earrings, some of which had little chains connecting them. She was dressed now in what Cullen guessed was likely daily Dalish garb. The leather looked sturdy and functional, but the green cloak that wrapped around her had more intricate gold detailing with little gold pins that kept it close to her in certain places, allowing it to drape in a way that made it seem that this piece was more sentimental than necessary. The cloak also made her look slightly larger than she really was. Her inhumanely long fingers were laced loosely in front of her. She smiled gently and Cullen realized he’d been staring.

“Hello, I apologize for interrupting, but I understand you all wanted to speak with me.”

“Chain her!” Chancellor Roderick shouted, “I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial!”

Cassandra shouted louder, “Disregard that and leave us!”

The guards listened to Cassandra. Ellana watched it all quietly. Chancellor Roderick blustered for a moment before hissing, “You walk a dangerous line, Seeker.”

Cassandra stood even taller and said, “The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.”

“Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave.” Leliana said, “Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others, or have allies who yet live.”

Roderick looked like Leliana had struck him, “I am a suspect?”

“You,” Leliana confirmed, “and many others.”

“But notthe prisoner?”

“I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to her help.” Cassandra turned then to look at Ellana.

Roderick sputtered on, “So her survival, that thing on her hand- all a coincidence?”

Cassandra’s eyes never left Ellana’s, “Providence.” Cassandra finally turned back to Roderick, “The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour.”

The elven woman’s ears twitched slightly and for the first time she looked a little unnerved. She just stared at Cassandra silently. Leliana’s voice softened slightly when addressing Ellana, “The Breach remains and your mark is our only hope of closing it.”

“That is not for you to decide!” Roderick bellowed.

Cassandra calmly walked to a shelf in the back of the room and picked up a heavy tome. She stared at it for a moment before gripping the edges firmly and slamming it down on the table. She was deadly calm and asked Roderick, “You know what this is, Chancellor? A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act.”

No one breathed for a moment before she finished solemnly, “As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.”

She advanced on Roderick and continued, “We will close the Breach. We will find those responsible. And we will restore order. With or without your approval.”

Roderick stared at Cassandra in shock for a moment before turning to leave, only pausing to glare at Ellana. The door slammed heavy behind him. No one breathed for a moment.

“So,” Ellana said, “we are saving the world then?”

Cassandra sighed, “That is the idea. Will you help us?”

“Of course I will.”

The slightest bit of relief showed on Cassandra’s face when she extended her hand to Ellana, who quickly took hold firmly. The seekers posture relaxed some before she turned towards Cullen and Josephine. Cullen breathed for the first time since he walked into the room. Cassandra introduced Cullen first.

“May I present Commander Cullen, the leader of our forces.”

Cullen grimaced and remembered all of the horrible letters he’d had to send in the past three days, “Such as they are. We lost many soldiers in the valley. I fear we will lose many more before this is over.”

Ellana looked at him sadly and said softly, “Ar Abelas. May Falon’Din guide them.”

It had been a long time since Cullen had heard anyone speak elven, not since he was in the Circle at Lake Callahan. From what he knew of the Dalish he certainly hadn’t expect her to ask her gods for anything on behalf of human. He could only sputter out a quiet, “Thank you.”

Cassandra moved on to Josephine next, “This is lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat.”

“Andaran atish’an.”

Josephine had been practicing getting the pronunciation right for the past two days for this moment, but following a native speaker it still sounded a little clunky. Ellana didn’t seem to mind, “Enaste. Do you speak elven?”

“I’m afraid you’ve just heard the entirety of it.”

Finally Cassandra turned to Leliana, “And of course you know Sister Leliana.”

Leliana shifted slightly and said, “My position here involves a certain degree of-“

“She is our spymaster.” Cassandra interrupted.

Leliana rolled her eyes, “Yes. Tactfully put Cassandra.”

Ellana looked around the room again and smiled, “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Cassandra spoke again, “I have spoken with Solas, he believes a second attempt to close the Breach might succeed, provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open it in the first place.”

Leliana nodded, “Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help.”

Cullen shook his head, “And I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well.”

Cassandra turned to Cullen, “I understand your reservations but we need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark-”

“Could destroy us all.” Cullen closed his eyes and saw the pillars of light coming out of the chantry in Kirkwall, his headache worsened when he opened his eyes again, “I was a Templar. I know what they’re capable of.”

“Unfortunately,” Josephine spoke up before the argument could continue, “Neither group will even speak to us yet. Word has already spread to the Chantry of what has happened here… and what some are calling you.” The last sentence was directed at Ellana.

“What are they calling me?”

Cassandra answered her, “The Herald of Andraste.”

Ellana went still. Cullen saw her ears twitch slightly again and he was beginning to think it was a tell. Ellana spoke slowly and carefully, “That is an interesting idea. May I ask why?”

“People saw what you did at the temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you.” Cassandra paused then, “They believe that was Andraste.”

Ellana’s face was blank while she stared at Cassandra. Cullen finally asked, “How do you feel about the title?”

Ellana slowly pulled her eyes away from Cassandra to look at him, “I believe… they have the wrong impression.”

Cullen chuckled slightly and Ellana’s shoulders lost some of their tension, “I’m sure the Chantry would agree.”

Leliana did not laugh, “The people are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, you are that sign.”

“And to others,” Josephine added, “A symbol of everything that has gone wrong.”

The woman seemed genuinely kind and willing to help, and Cullen sympathized with the amount of change being thrown at her in one sitting, but one question wouldn’t leave Cullen alone, “If I may, why were you even attending the Conclave? The mage and Templar conflict seems to primarily affect, well, humans.”

Cullen could sense Josephine glaring at him. Ellana’s ears dropped slightly before she answered, “I’m sure it seems like that to you all. Unfortunately, however, that is not the case. The world is in a state of chaos because of the conflict, and chaos gives people leave to act on their worst impulses. Violence against The People has risen exponentially since the onset of the war.” Ellana paused a moment to gather herself before continuing, “One month ago a group of Templars attacked a Dalish clan, accusing them of harboring maleficarum. They murdered almost the entire clan. They left only the children alive, but they did not leave until they-”

Ellana had to stop again and looked at the ceiling, no one in the room breathed, “They… clipped the children’s ears. Cut them almost in half.”

“Maker.” Cullen muttered and closed his eyes. What had happened to the Order?

Ellana continued, “The Elithem Sul’anasha Istimaethoriel decided that we could no longer ignore the war and hope that the Clans would be able to find a way to hide until it was over. She sent me to speak to your Divine on behalf of The People.” She turned to Josephine then, “Speaking of which, as soon as possible I would like to send word back to her that I am alright. If word has not reached her yet of what has happened it will soon, and I do not want her to worry.”

Josephine nodded quickly, “Of course. I am so sorry. I did not realize that the situation had grown so dangerous for your people.”

“I was heartbroken when I heard about what happened, but not surprised.” Ellana shook her head, “When people are treated like animals, it becomes simpler to slaughter them as such.”

Cullen thought he was going to be sick. He knew how vulnerable elves could be in times of conflict. He had seen it first hand in Kirkwall. During the uprising Lowtown had nearly been burned to the ground. Last he heard the Alienage still hadn’t recovered completely. He had seen the report of how many died that day, remembered the startling high amount of elves on the list. That was only one day of outright fighting. He should have seen this coming.

“And what happened to the children? After?” Josephine asked quietly, breaking the silence.

“They are at our temple. They are safe.”

“Your temple?” Leliana asked, intrigued.

Cullen could see Cassandra’s frown deepening; he knew what she thought Ellana was. He also knew Ellana’s devotion to her own religion would not please the Seeker. He turned back to Ellana, “I cannot say how sorry I am for what happened. It is further proof of how desperately we need to close the Breach and restore order.”

Cassandra nodded, “Agreed. We have heard from a Chantry Cleric by the name of Mother Giselle. She has asked to speak to you and she is not far.”

Leliana chimed in, “Her assistance could be invaluable, and she knows those involved far better than I do.”

“If you believe it is wise I will depart shortly.” Ellana turned to Cassandra, “Would you accompany me Seeker?”

Cassandra nodded curtly, “Of course.”

Cullen looked at his comrades before looking back at Ellana, “All right then. Lets get started.”

Elvhen used

Ar Abelas: I’m sorry

Andaran Atish’an: You are welcome here

Enaste: Blessings upon your house

Elithem Sul’anasha: Chief Priest

------

Sorry for the crap ton of exposition but I think it needed to happen here. Especially since I get to introduce some friends of Ellana’s next chapter. Up next is Cassandra.

Chapter 4: https://for-the-dales.tumblr.com/post/186962234719/chapter-4-cassandra

#chapter 3 #the path forward #lavellan #ellana lavellan #dragon age #dai #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #Cassandra Pentaghast #cullen rutherford #Leliana #josephine montilyet #Let me know if y'all liked it!

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moonlit-nightingale · 6 years

Text

.:RP-Void Crystal Arc:. Aftermath

Characters: Saranqerel Qalli (male Xaela), Dain Kotodama (male Xaela), Zen Are’a (male Seeker of the Sun), Professor Philologus (male Midlander hyur), Meinei Mei (female Plainsfolk lalafell) , Khongordzul Kagon (female Xaela), Akuro Nakamori (female Xaela), I’seirivine Idel (female Seeker of the Sun), Yesulun Qestir (female Xaela), Khaljar Oronir (male Xaela)

Rating: Nothing scary, general.

Origin Date: 29 May 2018

In wake of defeating the Primus, the group goes to find Sari and deal with what’s happened in the wake of the Imperial resurgence.

Note: This is a continuation straight from the event. Also this is a great bunch of people that made this event awesome. Love ya’ll. ♥

{DM} The elevator is lowered back to that lab the group found today. The researcher is true to his word, swiping his card towards a back door that leads to a hallway with many other doors. The gaol. Doors are opened to find the cells oddly empty minus one unconscious W'behna and a Sari in the very back.

Meinei Mei lets out an ecstatic cry and flings herself forward, "Qalli!"

I'seirivine Idel gives a deep sigh of relief upon seeing them, her whole body losing some of the tension it had been holding.

Zen Are'a stayed back, ears flicking as he looked over the two men. He would leave it to the others, no point crowding the poor things.

Dain Kotodama spies Sari first. Even with Ben technically being first Sari had certainly been the one he was looking for. Still, with so many that would come to the man quickly he went to Ben’s cell. To free, and if unconscious, throw over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Saranqerel Qalli jumps at the cry and hug, looking very much worse for the wear as he yelps! His left hand goes to catch whatever was thrown at him...the other is still at his side. Magitek has replaced his corrupted right arm, all the way up to his shoulder. "Wh...it's over?"

Meinei Mei steps back a few feet, embarrassed but overcome with joy. There are no words.

I'seirivine Idel: "It's over, buddy," Izzie says from the entrance. She seems a little spooked by her own strong emotion, and stays at the entrance because of that.

Khaljar Oronir: "Did they bloody replace your arm?"

Saranqerel Qalli blinks looking over everyone. So many...to help him? It almost makes him sentimental but he does his best not to show it. He looks to Khaljar. "...aye...the disease spread to it..."

Yesulun Qestir moved to lean over and hug Sari shamelessly around the shoulders. She seemed not to be embarrassed of such things. Metal arms were kinda crummy to hug though.

Khongordzul Kagon looks about dispassionately. No glory, no sign of her pilgrimage. Oh well, at least she got to stab something.

Saranqerel Qalli blinks and returns the hug tightly. Oh Nhaama, NOW he was gonna get the sniffles. Damn Qestiri hugs!

Khaljar Oronir: "Let us hope that is not the 'cure' they speak of. I don't think the others still ill with the Adders can get their.. everything replaced.."

Dain Kotodama stepped out of the cell with the cat over one shoulder, looking first to Sari's arm. His own mechanical piece curling into a fist before his gaze turned away. "We'll turn the researcher over to the Alliance. Sari, can you walk?"

{DM} The researcher had slunk away, already on it to prove his good will. He holds the paper out to Izzie. "Most of the cure is oddly enough natural remedies. It's complicated alchemy though. It's rather ironic. Here."

Saranqerel Qalli peeks up from the hug, clinging to his friend. "...I think so...I have both legs...so that already puts me in a better boat than you, aye brother?"

Khaljar Oronir lowered an arm to hold his side with a grimace.

Dain Kotodama was silent a moment before a laugh left him. "I'll kick your arse with their replacements if you aren't kind."

Saranqerel Qalli looks over the tattered group. "Let's get out of here....sorry for everything."

I'seirivine Idel takes the paper out of his hands with a rough yank, and looks at it. Confirming it is indeed beyond her. "...this looks up the alley of that lala girl back at the camp...the one who talks to the wind or whatever...I bet we can do something with this!"

Yesulun Qestir might maybe release him so he could walk. Maybe. Alright she would. She eased back and straightened up again.

Zen Are'a: "Don't be sorry," came the small voice from the back, a small sigh escaping.

Khaljar Oronir: "Indeed! We all volunteered for this mission. We had every intention of seeing it through."

Akuro Nakamori nodded, then winced as her face protested the movement. She got kicked really hard, it would seem.

I'seirivine Idel: "Don't apologize about this again!" she says, shaking the paper at him to enforce Khal's words.

{DM} The researcher remains non-combative. "Look, I don't want to go back to the Empire after this. I'll fade away and you'll never see me again. I kept my word."

Dain Kotodama turns his gaze to the man. "You'll be handed over to the Alliance. If your cure works they may be lenient, furthermore capable defectors are valuable."

Meinei Mei walks up next to Sari, holding his metal hand. It didn't matter if he couldn't feel it, there was a connection and it was a solid reassurance that he was coming home.

{Researcher} sighs and shrugs. "At least it's something."

Khaljar Oronir: "You get home and get some rest, brother. I shall come check your condition soon! For now, I am going to get home and get yelled at by our medics.."

I'seirivine Idel clears her throat, trying not to cry from relief in front of the others. "I'll get this info to the camp right away!" And she speeds off to do so.

Saranqerel Qalli: "I think..." Going home alone seems intimidating. The trauma hasn't fully hit yet it seemed, shock reigning. "Dain, would it be possible for me to stay at the company? Sorry for intruding..."

Dain Kotodama: "We'll deliver him to the camp and motion him to be released to us... Prosthesis like that, are finicky and we have people fortunately involved in their care. Thank you brother, sister, for helping save him."

Yesulun Qestir seemed to notice her own injury now, one arm still bleeding from a rather deep cut. She covered it with her hand, listening.

Dain Kotodama: "Heh... Aye, as I said, it was my intention with those... injuries."

Saranqerel Qalli: "Everyone else needs healing as well. I'm sorry, you're all hurt." He bows low at that.

Khaljar Oronir: "What'd we say about apologizing, eh?"

Saranqerel Qalli: "...sorry..."

Zen Are'a finally cracked a slight smile at how fond everyone seemed of Sari. Seemed he really was a good guy. He began to walk away, a soft smile gracing his features. "Take care, everyone," he said quietly before continuing to walk, pulling those cards back out to play with.

Dain Kotodama: "Smack him. It's the only way he'll learn."

Meinei Mei: "Stop apologizing. You would have done the same for any of us. Besides, I've seen what this group is capable of. You don't want us to get mad." She looks back at Dain and pretends to prepare a shift shin kick.

Dain Kotodama had metal legs, a shin kick was low on his worry list!

Khaljar Oronir groaned. "The Sun shall remember this. You are too injured to be smacked in the head right now, but later!"

Saranqerel Qalli frowns, it's obvious shock is still in control. His good hand goes to his neck... "I need to find my necklace and then I can follow." He seems dazed, intent on that.

Akuro Nakamori rubs gently at her face again, trying to ease the pain, and wincing when her fingers make contact.

Meinei Mei 's jaw drops. "Seriously?"

Dain Kotodama frowned, looking back to Akuro. "Guide Sari to the Camp and then to our base. Brother Sari, I'll find your necklace."

Akuro Nakamori nodded to Dain in acknowledgement.

Meinei Mei looks to Dain. "I'll help if you'd like, ser."

Saranqerel Qalli: "You know it, aye? The bone one...symbols inscribed on the inside."

Dain Kotodama: "Aye, Mei. And I know it well, Sari. Leave it in my hands."

Saranqerel Qalli: "Thank you...sorry again..."

Yesulun Qestir sighed.

Khaljar Oronir reaches out a hand and flicks the main in the forehead.

Dain Kotodama: "Unlike brother Khaljar I will smack you in the head despite your injuries."

Meinei Mei bursts out laughing at you.

Saranqerel Qalli jumps at that. "....ow..."

Khaljar Oronir flicks again. "Stop." Flick. "Apologizing!"

Meinei Mei: "You'll get one of those every time you apologize..."

Dain Kotodama nodded to Mei, going to start ransacking the place in search of that necklace.

Meinei Mei: Let's do it.

Khaljar Oronir: "There, point made!"

Akuro Nakamori motioned to Sari. "Follow me."

Dain Kotodama: "It shouldn't be too far away. He wasn't a prisoner long and I doubt they threw out his kit. Check the lockers."

Meinei Mei runs back and gives Sari's leg a tight squeeze before returning to Dain's side.

Dain Kotodama: "I'll search the lockers on this side, can you get the other?"

Meinei Mei nods to Dain Kotodama. She runs off and gets busy searching

Khongordzul Kagon watches the group quietly before walking off. Hopefully there'd be something to kill on the way back home.

Khaljar Oronir: "<Ready, Yesui?>"

Saranqerel Qalli nods at Akuro....a face he didn't know but obviously an ally! Then he looked back to Khaljar. "...thank you, both of you. For everything."

Khaljar Oronir gave a wave. "Until next time!"

Yesulun Qestir gave Sari another squeeze. Then it was time to go apparently.

Saranqerel Qalli: "Travel safe..."

~Back at the Sword and Quill free company estate~

Meinei Mei tugs lightly on Sari's pants and holds up a small object with great pride. Standing on her tiptoes so he doesn't have to bend down too far.

Saranqerel Qalli looks down at the tug and he brightens up at the sight! "Oh! Thank you, if I'd lost this..."

Meinei Mei beams at you.

Saranqerel Qalli still seems in a daze, the shock will wear off soon enough.

Meinei Mei: "I have to go be emotional elsewhere now. Take care of yourself and stop apologizing. You're part of this place's heart." She wipes a tear and grins.

Saranqerel Qalli swallows at that, fastening the worn thing about his neck again. "Thank you...truly..."

Saranqerel Qalli gives popoto queen a hug.

Meinei Mei gives you a big hug.

Dain Kotodama was also there, standing somewhat quietly though certainly meeting Sari's gaze.

Saranqerel Qalli makes sure that heirloom is secure, looking over at Dain. It's like he doesn't know whether to laugh, cry, or just...something. "I know you're going to scold me...but sorry again for getting so many hurt. I was careless."

Dain Kotodama: "I'm not going to scold you. There was no way to tell you would be ambushed or infected... The only people at fault are dead."

Saranqerel Qalli: "Aye." A habit as his good arm went to hug the cold one, the metal smooth and dark. "...I suppose I need to learn to work metal instead of wood now, eh?"

Dain Kotodama: "You'll be taught basic maintenance, but you shouldn't worry over the greater details. Especially not right now."

Saranqerel Qalli: "How are my men? Did a cure get found? No one else died?"

Akuro Nakamori nodded to Dain once she dragged herself out of her thoughts, then went inside to go to the clinic and have her face checked over.

Dain Kotodama: "They yet live. A cure has been found, so they shall survive. Akuro, thank you."

Saranqerel Qalli: "Ah, good. I should get back soon. I'm technically AWOL now, I think..."

Dain Kotodama: "I'll have a missive written up. You were considered dead, so AWOL is an improvement. For now come. You need to rest."

Saranqerel Qalli: "I-I can write one up as well to explain my absence! I have to write back thank yous for the supplies, explosives...write back to Headquarters about everything."

Dain Kotodama: "You can do that when you're rested however." Dain motioned Sari to follow as he started to the clinic. He wanted the man inside and safe before it fell through.

Saranqerel Qalli was still rattling off all of the things left unfinished but he followed.

Dain Kotodama motioned to the bed. "Sit. Preferably lay down but I'll take as I can get."

Saranqerel Qalli: "And Captain Stone did so much...I should get him something. Roegadyns like rum right?"

Dain Kotodama: "If you listen to the gossip in the Sand, Roe like a lot of things." Dain stares at Sari a moment, his metal hand going out to grip the other’s magitech wrist. "You've lost your arm, perhaps more. Worry about the captain later."

Saranqerel Qalli of course doesn't fight the motion at all. It's almost as if he's looking at someone else's arm. "...it's weird. I don't know what to think, or do..."

Dain Kotodama squeezed softly. "You need to breathe, deep and easy, and accept what's happened. The pain will come soon..." For a moment he trailed off, red ringed eyes falling to his own replacement. A thing that never once stopped filling his head with pain and whispers of death. "But it will pass. I will be here for you. Mashuel and Mitsue will see to you as well."

Saranqerel Qalli: "Everything is just...off." Words couldn't explain it. It wasn't even like this after the Nadaam, after his torture by former brothers. "I wasn't even there very long, there's no reason to be upset..."

Dain Kotodama: "I understand. What's happened hasn't settled with you yet," Dain said simply, finally returning his gaze to Sari's.

Saranqerel Qalli: "Shock after trauma. It's rather textbook, isn't it?" A small chuckle. "And I call myself a healer!"

Dain Kotodama snorted. His right hand reaching up to attempt and poke the other between the eyes. "Is that what it's called? Well. They say the masters are the most susceptible to the common parts of their craft, or some such drivel."

Saranqerel Qalli raises his good hand to that poke, why was everyone doing that?! "I...guess I should rest." Oddly enough he wasn't sleepy. "It would be what I would recommend to someone. But if you hear anything about the cure, please let me know. I want to make sure they're ok."

Dain Kotodama: "The cure was found, Yayasha is testing it first but I have no doubt they'll be healed." The man motioned to one of the chairs. "I'll be here, so you'll know as soon as I know."

Saranqerel Qalli: "Aye...thank you, brother. Thank you even more so for facing battle in all of that. I know it couldn't have been easy." Slowly the Qalli goes to crawl under the sheets.

Dain Kotodama closed his eyes. Whatever he thought was buried and a snort was given as he came to sit on the edge of the bed. "War is easy. Saving what is important less so. Fortunately the greater task was accomplished today."

Saranqerel Qalli: "If you say so." The worry of the other male's combat fatigue still weighed on him but he pulled the covers up and closes his eye, trying to will himself to sleep.

Dain Kotodama: "I believe I just did say so, we'll have to teach you how to listen as well." The man huffed. Meaning to tease, not quite certain what else to say especially when how the man viewed his feelings as the least important in this case.

#void crystal arc #roleplay

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hellofastestnewsfan · 4 years

Link

Amid a nationwide reckoning over police brutality and systemic racism in the wake of George Floyd’s killing, ESPN sought out, for its ESPYs award show, a voice in sports to capture this singular moment in our culture. New Orleans Saints safety Malcolm Jenkins, who’s spent the last few years lobbying national and state lawmakers for criminal justice reform, and whose tearful reaction to teammate Drew Brees’ comments equating kneeling during the national anthem to “disrespecting the flag” and “our country” captured the raw feelings of millions of Americans, immediately came to mind.

“We asked ourselves, whose voice might resonate most in a show set to air at such a crucial moment in our national discourse on racial equality and police brutality,” says Rob King, Senior Vice President and editor at large, ESPN Content.

Jenkins, who runs his own production company, Listen Up Media, jumped at the opportunity to serve as the creative force behind a powerful piece. After the 2016 deaths of two unarmed Black men at the hands of police, Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, Jenkins started wondering what more he could do to stop such incidents. Then a 2016 ESPYs segment, which featured LeBron James, Carmelo Anthony, Chris Paul and Dwyane Wade speaking out against police violence, inspired him to act.

“Just to kind of see that unexpectedly, it let me know that the things I was thinking about, they weren’t far-fetched,” Jenkins tells TIME in an exclusive interview about his ESPYs piece. “There were other guys who shared those sentiments. The social media, the hashtags and the T-shirts and all that stuff, is cool, but not enough. Their speeches in particular just sparked me enough to say, ‘I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do, but I’m going to go figure it out. It was that galvanizing moment for me.'” About a week later, Jenkins—then with the Philadelphia Eagles—and several teammates met with then-Philadelphia police commissioner Richard Ross to push for reform.

Jenkins hopes his piece, that aired Sunday night during the ESPYs, similarly galvanized athletes to act. A viewer discretion advisory opens up the segment. “The following presentation contains images that may not be appropriate for all audience,” it reads. The powerful clip starts with 12-year-old gospel singer Keedron Bryant singing his heart-wrenching hit, “I Just Wanna Live.” Pictures of Black men and woman killed, in many cases by police — including Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and Floyd — flash across the screen. Jenkins appears, calling on athletes to take stands in the mold of Muhammad Ali, Tommie Smith, John Carlos, Arthur Ashe, Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf and Colin Kaepernick. We see the painful image of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin kneeling on George Floyd as he calls out for his mother, as the viewer hears the voice of singer Mumu Fresh.

Athletes like Ibtihaj Muhammad, the first Muslim American woman to win a medal at the Olympics, NASCAR driver Bubba Wallace, whose public pressure compelled NASCAR to ban the Confederate flag at its races, and NBA star Donovan Mitchell speak. Muhammad talks in the piece about the pain of seeing Floyd’s death unfold on video. “It’s always really hard for me to see the faces of people who have died as a result of police violence,” Muhammad, a co-founder of Athletes For Impact—an organization that works closely with athletes on activism—tells TIME. “They conjure up memories of just those moments in time where we’ve all seen the videos, or had to hear about these unfortunate ways they’ve passed. And to know that nothing has changed is difficult.”

A montage of police violence against Black women follows. Mitchell makes a direct appeal for white athletes and sports figures to step up. Diana Taurasi, Breanna Stewart, Zach Ertz, Julie Ertz, Lindsey Vonn, Steve Kerr, Kyle Shanahan, Chris Long and Mark Cuban make calls for action. Newark Mayor Ras Baraka lays out calls for justice, in spoken word: “And we need it now, we need it now, we need it now,” he says.

“This is the tipping point,” Jenkins says in closing. “There is no going back, there is no inching forward.” The video ends noting that “as of June 21, none of the three police officers who murdered Breonna Taylor have been arrested.”

To Jenkins, the piece is a call to action for athletes. “I want this to be one of those moments where, if there are any more people left on the fence, that they get off of it,” Jenkins tells TIME. “Right now is probably the safest moment to get involved. It’s also a very vulnerable time in my mind. Because, it is now sexy to protest and to stand up using your voice. And so I want to make sure everyone who gets involved is doing it from a place of real understanding and power, not just out of guilt or public pressure.”

Jenkins hopes more white athletes engage. “It shouldn’t be the responsibility of Black people to tell white people what to do,” says Jenkins. “They should take it upon themselves to learn, research what’s going on, understand our system, just like we had to do.” Why are white allies so important? “If we take the context of sports out of it, and just talk about us as a country, these issues that we’re dealing with were put in by a white majority,” says Jenkins. “And the reason we can’t just eradicate these things is because the victims of these system, the minorities, don’t have enough votes or voices to just flip this on our own. Otherwise we would have. So this whole movement, really, is going to be taken across the finish line on the backs of white people.”

“When you allow people to stay silent, they are no longer responsible for that happens,” says Jenkins. “My challenge is for them to get involved not just by statement or by tweet, but by real action. We have this moment right now, that is driven by guilt. But guilt runs off eventually. So I think the time right now, while we have everyone sitting still, is a great time to really deal with the truth and reconciliation. We’ve never dealt with the truth of where we are. We’re in that moment now. And so I’m challenging my white peers to not only, hey, denounce racism. That’s the easy part. How do you learn about the actual oppression that we’re talking about? How do you learn about how you may be even participating in it, or perpetuating it? Are you going to figure out how you’re going to participate in tearing this stuff down?”

In May, Golden State Warriors coach Steve Kerr added his name to a letter put forward by the Players’ Coalition, the social justice organization co-founded by Jenkins and former NFL wide receiver Anquan Boldin, calling for a federal investigation into the death of Arbery. Given his respect for Jenkins, he was happy to participate in the production—in the clip, Kerr warns against conflating kneeling with disrespect for flag and country. “Athletes and entertainers, people with a platform can help spread awareness,” Kerr tells TIME. “But ultimately, to me, it’s white people in places of economic and political and corporate power who are gong to be the ones to really create change. People can demand that of them. And that’s what’s going to happen.”

Jenkins’ own work offers a blueprint for how all athletes can fight for change. In Philadelphia, he kneeled with protestors in the street after Floyd’s killing, wrote on op-ed in the Philadelphia Inquirer calling for a deescalation of police violence, and on June 6, addressed a crowd at the African-American Museum in Philadelphia, calling for a divestment from police and investment into Black business, education, housing and wellness. Fourteen members of the Philadelphia City Council, days later, sent a letter to the mayor objecting to a $14 million increase in the police budget. On June 17, the City Council gave preliminary approval to a budget that could reduce police funding by $33 million. “As athletes, we have the ability to not only raise awareness for an issue, but when it comes to policy, being able to talk to legislators, talk to elected officials, being able to put pressure on them because we are who we are, we bring cameras,” Jenkins says. “We oftentimes come from these same neighborhoods and communities that need help, so we can articulate the pain sometimes better than these politicians do.”

He wholeheartedly supports calls, heard around the country, to defund police. “Most people support defunding the police,” Jenkins says. “A lot of people struggle with the phrasing more than they struggle with the concept. Most of us, including leadership in law enforcement, believe that we ask police officers to do too much. They’re not trained to deal with mental health issues, they’re not trained to deal with homelessness, they’re not trained to deal with domestic disputes, they’re not trained to deal with kids in school, they’re not trained to deal with a number of things we ask them to respond to. We talk about deescalation, deescalation, deescalation. It’s impossible to deescalate a situation when you have someone who brings a firearm into it. So that becomes intimidation. And that’s what we see. If you don’t submit to that intimidation, ultimately somebody will get killed.”

“Defunding is just taking away the excess money that goes to our police departments, that push them to do a job that they don’t want to do, and we don’t want them doing,” says Jenkins. “And making sure we push them to be highly trained, to have all of the accountability they need. We need to redefine the role of policing in our community.” A world where the current policing blueprint isn’t necessary, Jenkins says, is worth striving for. “The end goal is, yeah, to live in a society where we don’t need the police,” Jenkins says. “I don’t think anybody wants to just literally with a swipe of a pen in 2020 eliminate all policing without creating some kind of other model, or transitioning into some other model of safety. But I think we all want to get to point where we don’t need armed people responding to our citizens. That we create a society that is equitable, that does not have extreme poverty, that does not have people living in these traumatic places. Crime drops because there is more opportunity.”

Jenkins, whom CNN just hired as a contributor to comment on social justice issues, is still training for the upcoming NFL season while producing videos, making TV appearances, talking to athletes about pushing their platforms for change—he recently did a Zoom call, for example, with members of the Washington Wizards and Washington Mystics—and continuing his activism work. While Jenkins appreciated NFL commissioner Roger Goodell’s recent video supporting Black Lives Matter and a players’ right to protest, he needs to see more. “I think the first step is acknowledging what Colin Kaepernick stood for,” says Jenkins. “Him in particular. Not players in general. What he stood for and what he put on the line. And now, where we are as a country, give him his ‘I told you so’ moment. That’s the first thing. And then secondly, we all want to see him have an opportunity to play. What that looks like I don’t think anybody knows. I think a workout or a tryout is a very simple thing to do. There are two sides to that relationship, so we’ll see.“

Jenkins acknowledges the NFL’s work in giving money to social justice causes, and creating awareness campaigns. “But we can’t take you serious because of the Colin Kaepernick situation,” Jenkins says. “We don’t know where your heart is. If they want to really help, and not be a voice in this fight that is confusing or muddies the water, the first thing they need to do is take on this Coin Kaepernick issue head on, and start there.”

Mostly, Jenkins believes America has an opportunity to break the cycle of injustice, outrage, and a return to injustice. “Right now, more than any other time in my lifetime, it feels like we have the ability to literally to turn away from the systems that we’ve had for centuries, and actually start over,” says Jenkins. “Everybody is starting to pay attention. This is a moment where we can reimagine how our society functions. All of our systems were birthed out of white supremacy. And so reform doesn’t change the origins of the system. They just kind of tailor it. But it’s still heading in the same direction. Until we turn our backs on those systems and restart America, until we understand the truth of where, how we got there, and what our roles are, then we can get to that place of reconciliation.”

from TIME https://ift.tt/2NeMS9g

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newstechreviews · 4 years

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phooll123 · 4 years

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New top story from Time: How Malcolm Jenkins Put Together That Powerful Black Lives Matter ESPYs Video

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blschaos3000-blog · 4 years

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Its 1:26 pm warm/Memorial Day/never forget

Welcome to 8 Questions with…….

Today’s interview is a little different in a couple of ways. Today’s guest,Blaine Kelley,is my first politicallt active guest. Now I usually find the folks I talk with via Facebook or a third party. But Blaine is also my first Twitter guest,he and I have been friends on that platform for around three years now. And yes,Blaine is one of the most active voices against Donald Trump and his fascist regime. He posts different news articles,gets out in the street and encourages everyone to excercise their right to vote no matter how hard the Republicans are trying to deny and suppress that right. I have found Blaine to be a warm and generous man who loves his family and his country. He is willing to discuss just about anything as well….in fact he and I have had some really nice chats about life in general. What I respect most about Blaine is that he will be friends with just anyone based on face value,he doesn’t judge anyone and lets their actions speak for themselves. In today’s world,that is rapidly becoming a rare trait. I know by posting this interview that I am showing where I stand in today’s world and while I plan to interview other activists,my blog is not a political one nor will it become one. Simply because I think politics are dead and good people like Blaine Kelley are fighting for the life and the future of this country. So I hope you will really read the answers to the 8 Questions (plus a couple more) that I asked Blaine Kelley……

Please introduce yourself and share a little bit of your background with us.

Hello- My name is Blaine Kelley. I am from central California. I have always lived here and have no desire to live elsewhere. I went to school at Pepperdine University where I studied Economics and Literature. I Attended Law School at Southern Cal. I worked as a civil attorney for over a decade until I burned out on the grind. My mother was suffering from cancer and I spent several years attending to her while she battled it. I began to feel the need to go back to work so I invested in a construction corporation and became a board member and the VP of operations. I continued this for a decade finally selling my shares and entering the corporate consulting world.

How are you and your family coping with the Covid-19 lockdown?

During this time I met my spouse and we relocated from San Diego to The Bay Area. When Covid-19 struck I had been following the science for several months. I was not surprised at the lightening speed of the spread in the US. I was prepared. We have been sheltering In place longer than most of the country and it shows on the infection growth curve for California. I feel very lucky for this. We have two children, 10 and 14, whom I have taken the responsibility of educating during the pandemic. Many of you know this is quite a challenge. Beyond this the “lockdown’ has presented many obstacles: Being isolated from friends and family is a challenge the video calling only partially overcomes. Further it is a daily challenge to stay physically mentally and physically fit without access to the “normal” outlets that keep me and my family on an even keel.

When did you become politically active and what was the issue that peaked your interest?

I am 50 and became interested in politics during high school. The Iran Contra Affair was interesting because my best friends neighbor was arrested for weapons trafficking. We lived in a small beach community so this was A BIG DEAL. My family was always involved in political activities. My grandfather was a contemporary of Cesar Chavez and Delores Huerta. He marched with the farmworkers from Delano to Sacramento. It wasn’t uncommon to visit them and dine with famous social and political figures. The strong pro-union sentiment is something I still support and am proud of to this day. Political corruption has always been one of my main areas of interest when thinking about the political perspective. Weather local or national, corruption has been and will be, the single biggest danger to the democratic ideal most Americans cherish.

What is “the Resistance”?

The Resistance to me is merely a group of citizens who are fed up with the corruption that is choking our Democracy right now. We see the questionable validity of our election process, and more importantly, the disastrous results that political apathy and general ignorance have delivered upon us all. Within my circle of allies you will find individuals from across the political spectrum. What we have in common is a passionate love of our Country and a steadfast belief in the Rule Of Law. Without fair and balanced laws society will not function as envisioned by the founders, the citizenry, and the our allies across the world who, by necessity, need the United States to be the Beacon of Justice for the World.

Do you feel only having two political parties have led us down this path in which we have a fascist president? What three things would you reform if you could do so?

I have little experience with anything other than the two party system. Accordingly, my thoughts on a parliamentary system are not favorable. I think 90-95 percent of Americans all want the same thing but want to take a different route across town to reach the destination. Accordingly, more parties won’t solve this issue but more imput and cooperation will.

Do you feel a corporate owned press does more damage then good and why/why not?

The so called free press is partially at fault for the current fiasco we have in Washington. We have ZERO requirements that “the press” report Facts, Truth, or anything advising the consumer that opinion is being presented as NEWS. This is an epic failure of Congress and the Courts. It is difficult to determine if the big three (MSNBC.CNN.FOX) are mostly responsible for the authoritarian crisis we currently face. What is clear, Ratings (income) are the primary goal of all media in the United States. This is problematic as the echo chamber effect is fully our current reality. Obviously this is not the way to unite all citizens for any common good. Divide and conquer is a successful strategy that has been effective for thousands of years.

How can we recover our country or have we gone past that point?

I definitely think we can save our county and political system. We have not yet lost all respect and understanding for and of the Rule Of Law. We are close as normalization of authoritian actions is “normalized” by Fox news and to a lessor extent by the other two daily. We also see most Members of the GOP doing the same in furtherance of personal and professional necessity. The margin is razor thin for the upcoming election. If America is to be saved some wholesale changes must be made if the Authoritian corporate machine is defeated in November. Among these are Citizens United, wholesale voter repression/suppression ,and term limits to nave a few.

How do you explain what is happening to your kids?

10 and 14 have a basic understanding of the problems we face. I explain how (corny but deal) Truth and Justice are integral to the American Way. I define Justice as; those who fail to follow the laws of man, as passed by our court or, made by our lawmakers, are punished according to those same laws. That clearly is not happening!

Do you feel the revisionist policies in our schools have played a part of the rise in fascism here?

I don’t consider revisionist content in schools the major problem but rather the wholesale elimination of content the culprit. Ignorance of the designed mechanisms of the political and legal worlds is the biggest educational failure I see. This has led to a loss of respect for both The Law And The Political Process. Loss of respect has led to apathy.

How do you encourage people and which people encourage you?

I try to encourage others to do one simple thing….VOTE. By explaining that the ability to vote is a privilege I hope to inspire others to become more aware of their ability to affect other lives in a positive way. I tend to barrage people with facts……sometime too many. Lately I have just pushed the idea that if you vote you rightfully have a say in the outcome. People that inspire me are those who understand that wisdom is important yet easy to acquire. It isn’t all about IQ but about paying attention and digesting what you see in a meaningful way.

Do you feel we as a society have become much to reactionary because we feel powerless to do anything?

No on the contrary we are way too fucking apathetic. Many will passively sit by and watch while tragedy occurs RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM. Two examples: Last year my Spouse and I were at the store and witnessed a man hitting his wife! I ran up and, along with another, grabbed the man separating him from the woman. There were at least 15 other bystanders doing NOTHING. Four months ago I was driving and a woman was running in traffic. She was screaming….. She was being chased by a man. I pulled over and inserted myself between her and the man allowing her to get in her car and escape. Taking personal responsibility to make my city a better place for all is what everyone needs to do. We have to get out of our personal bubble and take some responsibility to make life better for everyone. Liberty and freedom are not going to last for any of us unless all of us work together.

What do you like to to do for fun when you’re able to do so?

I enjoy a wide variety of things. Books, live music, and the outdoors are my favorites. Somehow eating delicious things seems to be involved in most of those activities. My family is the center of most of these a interests. Traveling to a concert, sporting event, or a National Park we find a way to experience new foods along the way.

The cheetah and I are flying over to watch to attend a political rally but we are a day early and now you are playing tour guide,what are we doing?

Accordingly I would encourage you and the Cheetah to check out the bay and the museums here. Mainly because great food is always near. A trip to the Capital is a short hop as well. The Cheetah would love a romp through the many estuaries in search of things to smell and chase………

I like to thank Blaine for talking the time to chat with us and being candid about his views on the state of America. As November gets closer,this next vote is the most important in our nation’s history. If we don’t retake back our country then,we never will.

You can follow Blaine on his Twitter by clicking here.

Feel free to drop us a comment below.

8 Questions with………political activist Blaine Kelley Its 1:26 pm warm/Memorial Day/never forget Welcome to 8 Questions with....... Today's interview is a little different in a couple of ways.

#8 Questions With #America #Blaine Kelley #California #citizen #Democrat #family #father #husband #patriot #political activist #politics #The Resistance

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neliedoria · 5 years

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The night was a cool one, not cold enough to be uncomfortable but the chilled marble of the bench Eli laid on was welcome against her heated skin. She tried to ignore the aches that still wracked her slender form. The dressings itched and any movement made the stitches all too known. Between the priestess' efforts and those of her own personal healers at home, they'd done the best they could, but some things still just had to come in their own time. A frown pulled at her features, all too well aware of how much she had depended on the handful of physicians that she trusted with her situation, especially since she had allied herself with the Warband.

The stars watched her as she watched them, her eyes unfocusing on the pinpricks of light in the sky as her thoughts drifted to her newfound brother. There was that tiny flicker of hope in that distant part of her thoughts, the ones he supposedly hidden away from the parasite she bound herself to all those years ago. Instead she made herself focus on anything else but that promise he had made to her. She still hadn't spoken to Ailos since, the sting of betrayal rearing its head once again. Almost every time she thought they might have come to some sort of reconciliation, something else came to light or happened that would set them right back to where they were. Lormeus? Azkaellon? She still hadn't decided what or how to think of him. No matter the excuses given to her, it still manage to hurt that something of that magnitude had been kept from her for so many years. Not only Ailos, but Drakar even had kept silent. Had Talynna known too before she met her end? Her parents, it seemed everyone but her had known. She was quite sure Altiel had known too, but she could at least accept his silence to date as part of whatever had initially bound him to Ailos. Of course she could strike out at him as she had the others, but after everything else, what purpose would it serve?

A soft breeze rippled the silken robe she wore, the silvery fall of her hair dancing over the smooth pebbles that marked the paths through her gardens. As they often did these days, her thoughts moved to the man she left sleeping in their bed. Her irritation with her brothers certainly hadn't dissipated, but still they lingered as well.

"...you will need others in your life besides me if you are to ever be happy again..."

"Maybe even find a reason to live to the fullest...You deserve happiness. Both of you."

"You will have a happy fulfilling life if I have anything to say about it..."

Three different people, all the same thought process. She had had a fulfilling life, or at least some sort of life that she had been content in before being brought back. But happiness? Her frown at the stars only deepened as she stretched her memories out before her. There had been a time, yes. But like with everything else, they seemed muddled. There was that time before her husband had overstepped that last piece of humanity he possessed and brought her down with him, and then there was everything that happened since. Every minute detail, the pitch and tone of his voice when he told her he could save her, that maddened look made only more terrifying as she truly saw how the Fel addiction had been eating away at him bit by bit. The warmth of his blood on her hands, the burning of the seal and that rich feminine laughter echoing in her ears. Those were things she'd never forget.

But before, the memories were still there. She could remember the look on his face when she finally told him there was to be a child of their own after they had tried for so long. She remembered when he asked for her hand. She remembered all those years growing up with Ailos and the smiles that would make their faces ache as they plotted something or another to break her out of her studies for a day. But all of those, she knew intellectually there had been happiness and joy, even as there was heartache and sadness. She just didn't remember what it felt like. Happiness, joy, love - she knew she knew of them once, but how long had it been? None of them had touched her since she sold herself for the promise of life and power, an unknown sacrifice she had offered away as easily as she had her husband's life. The brightest light of her life, could she even remember what her son had even looked like now? His joyous laughter when he'd pounce into bed with them both on a cold winter's morning was simply a shadow now. Bit and pieces, that's all she had left of him even though she could too easily remember the shattering of her heart when word came of his death. Those of Ailos's children over the years, her nieces and nephews who had been the sparks in the darkness. The light and the dark of all those years before everything changed, who even was that woman back then?

The woman who had fallen and risen reborn as something else entirely, the one who laid there listening to the soft rustling of the evening breeze rifling through the leaves and brush of her own personal Eden. Every so often the silence was broken by the trilling croak of one of her ravens, but that was as much a comfort as anything else. This woman knew nothing of that happiness the fools around her kept speaking of. Anger, hatred, hostility and rage - those were the tenets of her being now. They kept her safe and they kept her alive, fueling her existence by shielding herself in them and using their strengths to keep the demon who held her pleased.

Happiness and love, these things being offered about so easily, never minding the weakness they brought with them. Her family, was that even love? They were her people, they shared her blood. There were unbreakable ties, no matter how they pissed her off more often than not. For all of her blustering and threats, she knew she would never truly harm any of them. There was some lost sentiment there, but not love. There was duty, there was responsibility to all of the Lightsworns that came before them. But love?

Then there was Altiel. How easily he spoke of it and laid it so readily at her feet. Even now she still waited for him to break off into laughter and turn his back on her. It was only a matter of time, right?

"Weakness."

Eli started, but then forced herself to relax, her eyes closing as if they too could shut the voice away.

"He has made you weak, they've all made you weak. Look at what they've done to you."

"No, an explosion did this to me. This bloody, pointless war has done this to me."

"But who involved you, hm? There were never sides to be chosen, everyone was an enemy or an asset. They involved you because you involved yourself with them. This family who threw you away and kept you at arm's length, what have they done to deserve you? Not a thing. You've let them make you forget how you were so much stronger without them."

The voice was a silken one, at least for now. That sweet and wheedling tone that seemed so sensible, why would she ever second guess it?

"They are of no concern to you. ��For now it amuses me to involve myself with their world. When it no longer amuses me then I will leave them as they left me. It's just that simple." Her bravado she pulled close to her, wrapping herself in an attempted air of indifference. It didn't stop the soft hitch of her breath when she moved then, pain rippling through her as she eased herself up and off the bench. Altiel was still sleeping, or was for the moment. He was only a short distance away and it would be easy enough to wake him and distract herself from the demon's prattle.

Or at least that had been her plan. Eli stopped short when after only a few steps, a shadowed projection of the Shivarra stood before her. Though they spoke often, there was only a handful of occurrences where the demon would actually show herself in some fashion. As such, it was enough to make Eli lightheaded, the air around them suddenly so thin it was hard to draw breath.

"I grow tired of you."

Five words, but five words were nearly enough to make her heart stop in her chest, and Eli was left scrambling for thoughts of all that she hadn't yet gotten to do if her life were to be snuffed out in this very instance.

'Not now...too soon...Not alone...Idontwanttodie…’'

Her thoughts tripped over themselves as she swallowed thickly, wanting nothing more in that moment for her brother to hide behind like she did when she was a child. Or Altiel, his hand resting reassuringly against her back. Letting her know without the words she so often scoffed at that she wasn't alone.

The Shivarra stepped close, her incorporeal form moving silently but Eli could easily feel the brush of her fingertips caressing her cheek. Her two middle hands slid down Eli's arms before encircling her wrists, holding her in place as a grin spread across the demon's lips beneath the gauzy veil she wore.

"I have warned you. I have chastised you. Still you persist in this foolishness. I gave you everything you asked for and asked so very little in return, and now you seek to renege on our little arrangement. I had such wonderfully high hopes for you, little one."

Fear, true fear, froze the very blood in her veins and left her unable to move, unable to reply. The demon’s voice was no longer the silken whispers that so often plagued her thoughts. Instead now they were laced with menace and the promise of punishment. Her hands were still held tightly, another was stroking her claws idly across Eli’s cheek. The Shivarra grinned down at her malevolently as she leaned in ever closer until they were nearly nose to nose.

“Where to even begin, hm?” she taunted her, the stroking fingers snatching Eli’s chin and holding her firmly in place. “Oh, I know. We’ll start off with a little secret, and then what you can and will do to get back into my good graces.” A clawed finger tapped at her cheek. Fear still froze her voice, but her mind lept at the phrasing that indicated she may just live to see the sun rise. Whatever it was, she could endure. Anything at all, just she had to hold on long enough for her brother to come through as he said he would. “You have your secrets, and I have a few of my own. So lost in your own thoughts and delusions, you really are quite ignorant and oblivious, my darling.” While the Shivarra purred, so very amused with herself, her lower arms reached down to rest her hands on Eli’s hips. “But then I suppose you wouldn’t have known any better, hm? Your poor husband, it was all his fault really. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so weak, you would have been more mindful, eh? But you never knew. Even after all this time.” The creature’s grin slipped into a wide smirk even as one of the hands at her hips slid over to rest against her lower belly.

“He was weak. In mind, in body, in soul. Even down to his very seed. Oh, I know you always believed it to be you, but it never was.” Her voice whispered so clearly into Eli’s ear as she leaned in all the closer, like a friend sharing softly spoken confidences. “Do you think I’ve allowed you this long simply because I was fond of you? All that you’ve given me for our little arrangement, and you never knew of those sweet little morsels that grew within you? They tipped the scales only slightly in your favor, and you’ve never known. Not of a single one of them. Those of the purest of hearts that you’ve felled, they have nothing on something that pure, that untouched.” Eli didn’t breathe, didn’t blink. Trapped as she was in the demon’s hold she wasn’t even sure that her heart still beat as what was being told to her registered. The Shivarra pulled back enough so that she could see her pet’s expression, that stunned bloodless face staring back at her in the dim light of the gardens. Still taunting her, the demon rested her forehead against Eli’s, a self-satisfied sigh rippling her veil as she relished in the memory.

“You never knew. Not then, and even now you’re just as oblivious as that which again grows within you.”

Eli’s eyes held hers, the weight of her words finally widening her eyes as what was being said. Never had Eli’s strengths been as Ailos’s had, or any of her other family. She knew of the Light, but she never had the skill to wield it in any true sort of fashion. But with that pronouncement, she only then remembered back all those centuries ago. She and her husband tried so long to have a child. There were so many false hopes, miscarriages, all gone before they had any hope of being. But she knew, she always knew when she felt that tiny little spark within her, even though it was only the once that that spark grew into the son they finally rejoiced in after so long. In all of the time since, there had never been hope that she’d know that again, so what was the point? Some part of her raged that she should have known, no matter hope or disappointment that would have followed. It was that same sense of knowing then that the demon spoke true, against all the odds that one secret wish she had borne since even before her world came crashing down - Altiel had given it to her. He taunted her about the little girl who wanted only that one and only love, to have that happy ending that only fools dreamed of.

Whatever might have come about from the revelation that she was carrying a child once more was lost in a whole new level of fear that would have sent her to her knees if she hadn’t been caught up in the demon’s hold. The Shivarra on the other hand, her fingers stroked almost lovingly against the flat of her stomach and true glee was written plainly on her features as so many emotions flit across Eli’s face.

“I could leave you as you are, the warning and fear of what may be could be just as delicious,” she mused, but then her features darkened and her fingers dug suddenly into the still healing flesh of Eli’s stomach, still hidden beneath the bandages. “But you allowed that creature to threaten you, to threaten me. For that alone I should kill you where you stand, that you didn’t even strike him down. Especially after all of this misbehavior from you of late - you have no one to blame but yourself.”

For the first time since the Shivarra appeared before her, Eli strained and thrashed against her hold, panic and fear making her desperate enough to try and pull away, no matter how futile her efforts were. She felt that connection open between her and the demon, that familiar pull when her handler pulled from her own feedings. Whatever had been done before, this time with her eyes opened, that small spark she felt inside of her began to dim, slowly, so slowly, until it winked out entirely and a whole new kind of pain ripped through her as her body reacted and rejected that hollowness that existed in place of the life now snuffed out. Rage, agony and sorrow ripped from her throat though it did little to muffle the pleased cackling that echoed in her ears as she was finally released to crumble to ground, the Shivarra’s form slowly fading away.

“It’s life to prolong your own, just as your husband’s did when we first met. Kill the one that dared threaten us, and maybe I can find it in myself to forgive you. Fail to, and this is just the first of many who will suffer and fall before your very eyes. I will destroy all of them before claiming my prize, only when all that you’ve ever loved or even cared for is naught but ashes on the wind.” Her voice faded out as the final vestiges of the demon faded away in wisps of smoke, leaving only Eli there on the ground with her arms clutching tightly at her midsection. Tears burned at her eyes as the unexpected sobs choked her. She could only vaguely feel the warmth of blood leaking down her thighs as her body caught up with what the demon had wrought.

There was no sense of time as she laid there, balled up on the smoothed pebbles as she mourned the loss of something she had only known for a handful of seconds, the promise it might have once held.

Alone.

If only she hadn’t fallen into this foolishness, none of this would have ever happened. She should have killed Altiel before he was able to lay a hand on her, she should have turned her back on Ailos as soon as he tried to lure her back. Alone she was safe, alone there was no worry or fear of anything like this.

But it didn’t stop her from wanting Altiel with her now. The genial trickster who somehow seemed to think everything would just fall into place.

It didn’t stop her from wanting Ailos. Even with all that they’d been through, she never forgot that he was the one person who could right all of the world’s wrongs and make things right.

It didn’t stop her from wanting Lormeus. To do as he claimed he could, to trap and hold the demon. Hopefully in some fashion where she could return some of the torture and agony she’d been subjected to for so long.

A low croak broke through her thoughts, and Eli uncurled enough so that she could see the raven through the veil of her hair and tears. The bird’s head tilted to the side and he crept close, croaking again softly. She knew she could send him off, to seek for help, but before she could manage her eyes rolled back and her eyes slid shut as the shock and trauma of everything just pulled her back into the soft darkness where nothing could touch her.

#Writing #moy writes #Eli Lightsworn #Ailos Lightsworn #Lormeus Namaraen #Altiel Crimsonheart

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theinquisitivej · 5 years

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The New Century Multiverse Reactions – ‘Secret Rooms’ Definitive Edition: Weirwood Epilogue

You can listen to the full episode here.

Weirwood ends with an epilogue from Katherine Holloway as she tells us the Story of Weirwood. This chapter is taken from The Cartographer’s Handbook and is Katherine’s account of her life and the years she has led the inhabitants of Weirwood. This is a story we’ve heard before, but I’ve never actually talked about it in detail on the blog. Now that Maya Santandrea is playing Katherine, we have a new narrator and a new vocal performance to enjoy, so this seems like a decent time to go over it.

The chapter details Katherine’s life before the emergence of the Wendigo, when the American Civil War had only just concluded. She had fallen in love and married a soldier named Lieutenant Preston Beauregard, who she had plans on marrying once he returned from the war and they could inherit her father’s plantation to live their lives in prosperity. Preston made Katherine laugh and feel like she was a lady, a grown adult that she could be proud to be. He made her so sure of what her life would be, and that they would share a happy life together. But Preston received a serious injury during one fateful battle and lost his leg along with three of his fingers. He came back a quiet shadow of his former self, withdrawn and lacking the vibrant spirit he once had. But Katherine stood by him. She would keep her resolve in the face of defeat and build a life with the man she had become devoted to, even if it was not the life she had envisioned.

This and life during the aftermath of the Confederacy’s defeat made Katherine one of the hardiest people you could meet. When the Wendigo’s sickness started to spread, she planned for the worst and decided to fortify Weirwood and take in children like James and Abigail. Over the years they educated the children, set up vegetable patches and expanded their livestock, and generally set up a comfortable enough life for the people of Weirwood whilst also training them to be ready to dispatch Wendigos and fight when the day came when they would come face-to-face with danger. This is what we’ve been seeing in Weirwood and these additional chapters of Secret Rooms. Even Preston regained some of his fire, offering instructions on how to fight and telling Katherine everything about his own experiences and mistakes in battle.

One day, however, a suspicious man approached the gates of Weirwood to ask about their living situation. After sending him away with as little information as possible, Katherine was confronted a few days later with a group of men who demanded they take them in. After Katherine refused to do so and made it plain that she was armed and fully capable of fiercely defending her home, the group retreated, and both sides begun preparations for the inevitable fight that would follow. That night, the attackers came, but Katherine and the inhabitants of Weirwood were ready for them. They used the darkness of night to their advantage and sent out some of their best people to take out some of the attackers’ scouts, and used bows and arrows to fire several volleys silently at the enemy. Eventually, however, the battle descends into a frantic close-quarters fight, and the people of Weirwood give everything they’ve got to repel these bandits. When dawn comes, every one of their attackers has been dispatched, and eighteen of Weirwood’s number has been lost. Among the dead was Preston Beauregard, who had died underneath the cherry tree that he and Katherine had once spent their early days together. The bodies of the three men who had taken his life were found alongside him, telling a story of how fiercely and bravely he had fought to the very end. As Katherine finishes her account, she knows that Abigail and James are the sort of resourceful people that the Cartographers will need in their fight to ensure the survival of the people of America.

I can’t tell if any additions or changes have been made since this short story was first published in The Cartographer’s Handbook. Whether it’s always been there or if it’s been included now that we know who James and Abigail are, I like hearing Katherine talk about these two. Abigail is described as one of Katherine’s “very favourite girls”, even though her brashness caused trouble when she was younger, and Katherine sees James as a grave young man, but someone who has been invaluable throughout the years in his assistance to Weirwood’s resident doctor. In the context of Weirwood, we’ve spent nine chapters seeing Katherine from the perspective of the children in her care. As such, she has come across as authoritative and slightly unknowable, which is understandable for any stern older guardian figure when they are being looked at from a child’s point of view. Up to this point it’s been difficult to discern what Katherine thinks of Abigail and James, but here we’re plainly told that she values them. Hearing about their crucial roles in the battle to defend Weirwood after experiencing the story of Weirwood shows how far they’ve come in the intervening years. Abigail and James are now some of the most capable and indispensable members of this community. Katherine appears to be very proud of each of them. It must have been hard for her to send them away with the Cartographers.

Listening to this short story again, I’m struck by how well the writing communicates how the sequence of events that made up the battle played out. It’s difficult to make describing action or battles engaging in a non-visual medium that relies heavily on descriptive narration like literature or audio dramas. This chapter manages to overcome this challenge by approaching the encounter like an historical documentary. Each step of the combat and the tactics involved in Katherine’s decisions is clearly laid out, and the reasoning behind each move is compelling to listen to. In addition to this effective overview of the different movements of the battle, the writing also makes a point of emphasising what this tense encounter means to the character we’ve been following and care about, and what it makes her feel. When the inhabitants of Weirwood have the lead on their attackers by taking advantage of the night and using silent volleys of arrows, Katherine comes across as a calculating tactician who knows the best way forward. But when the fight turns ugly and she’s forced to stay apart from it all as the people following her, the children who she has protected for years, are being killed by these intruders in a mindless close-quarters brawl, she understandably feels powerless, horrified, and furious that these men would dare to do this to her children. The encounter means more to the audience because we see what it and the losses mean to Katherine. As fictional battles go, this is an excitingly tense sequence that makes you shudder to think what it would be like to go through something like this.

And that’s why this story is as important to establishing the tone and theme of New Century as it is. Trials and hardships like this are something that most of us hope to never go through. Katherine and the people of Weirwood have had to show incredible resolve and willpower to fight to survive and defend themselves from the monsters of this new frightening world. In telling this story, Katherine tells us that she hopes to inspire others to fight with their very last breath to defend against those who would take everything. But she realises that, if they’ve managed to stay alive this long, they likely already have gone through their own version of these events. Everyone who is alive in America has faced their own ordeals, and everyone has lost something or someone. Weirwood and Katherine show remarkable strength of character, and yet it’s suggested that stories like this may be relatively common in the America of New Century. It hammers home how trying life is for the people of America, and yet it also feels like a source of hope, because as much as we lose, as much as we fear what tomorrow may bring, this world is filled with people who have survived the hardships of yesterday. People aren’t always your allies, but there is something unifying about knowing that everyone is mourning something, and as bittersweet as that is, I find that to be a hopeful sentiment.

As I mentioned earlier, this chapter has a new narrator due to Maya Santandrea now playing the role of Katherine. This is one of the defining moments in New Century for Katherine’s character, showing us what she has gone through and how it has made her one of the hardiest and most capable of leaders in the series. Maya has been selling Katherine’s compassionately understanding yet firmly authoritative nature throughout Weirwood in each of her appearances, but it’s here where she gets the chance to shine, and shine she does. Her vocal performance captures the character’s determination to hold her head high and push forward as well as her moments of vulnerability when she remembers the heartbreak of her Preston coming home a different man, or her frustration that she couldn’t do more to fight and repel the bandits attacking her home and killing her children. By the point in the chapter when Katherine supposes that everyone’s gone through their own hardships, she’s firmly established the character’s strengths as well as her humble disposition that prevents her from making more of what she’s gone through than she does. She hopes this will inspire others, but she figures plenty of other people have already gone through this, and that she has simply done what is necessary to survive. The thing that broke me, and breaks me every time I relisten to this segment of the chapter, is at the very end when Katherine tells us of Preston’s fate. Maya’s performance drove me to tears, conveying such love and admiration for the man she married as her voice crumbles and the sadness of her loss hits us like a bus. Her delivery manages to convey Katherine’s simultaneous pride and indignation that three men, including the bandits’ smug leader, were necessary to take down her crippled husband. Maya’s voice is filled with disdain when she speaks of the bandits, but filled with loving admiration for the bravery of her dear husband. And yes, the tears are once again coming as I write these words.

The epilogue closes with a new section that has been added to the end of the Definitive Edition of Secret Rooms. In it, we see Abigail approach Virgil and Fuck Yo- I mean, Karl and strike up a conversation. It’s a touching and uplifting way to end Weirwood and a welcome addition to Secret Rooms. It shows Abigail slowly reaching out to make more friends and relieves some of the emotional strain we’ve been going through between the end of Lucy’s story and Katherine’s grief for her husband. Karl taking the piss out of Abigail is funny to listen to and you feel glad to see Abigail getting more comfortable around the pair and offering to buy them and their wives a drink later. The scene is one of those moments in life where, even if it’s not the most significant thing that will ever happen to you, it’s still one of those moments you treasure because things feel alright. Even if they aren’t, at least there’s pleasant company with the people who are going through it alongside ya.

Join me very soon for the last Secret Rooms post – a general overview and review of the Definitive Edition of Secret Rooms.

#The Inquisitive J #review #critic #narrative #narrative analysis #fiction #audiobook #audio drama #fictional podcast #books #alternate universe #alternate history #alternate history fiction #new century #new century multiverse #the new century multiverse #secret rooms #secret rooms definitive edition #the inquisitive j reviews

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viralhottopics · 7 years

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‘The Walking Dead’ Season 8 will be ‘epic’ and ‘gigantic,’ but will it involve Negan?

They clean up pretty nice.

Image: Michael Bulbenko for the Paley Center

The Walking Dead is rapidly approaching 100 episodes (time flies when you’re crushing zombie skulls like watermelons), but according to its showrunner Scott Gimple, they’re not planning on cancelling the apocalypse any time soon.

The series has already been renewed for Season 8, but Gimple apparently has his sights set on a much loftier goal.

“Episode 801, the first episode of Season 8, is gonna be the 100th episode. The first episode is less about that we reached 100 episodes, its more about setting up the next 100 episodes,” he revealed during a panel at Los Angeles’ annual PaleyFest television festival on Friday night. “The end of this season is very much the end of a chapter; it’s a conclusion that promises this epic story ahead. Its about setting up this gigantic, epic tale to come, not only in Season 8, but beyond.”

SEE ALSO: Live interview with ‘Walking Dead’ star has hilariously unorthodox ending

Rick (Andrew Lincoln) and his allies are currently trying to rally the neighboring communities of The Kingdom, Hilltop and the Scavengers against Negan (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) and his oppressive Saviors, so it’s entirely possible the Season 7 finale will show us an all-out war between the factions.

Then again, Jeffrey Dean Morgan has also confirmed that he’ll “be around for Season 8,” so that confrontation might not be as satisfying as we’d hoped…

And if you’re still scarred from the devastating Season 7 premiere, which saw Negan kill both Glenn (Steven Yeun) and Abraham (Michael Cudlitz), Gimple admitted that the cast and crew felt your pain.

“The first episode was a trifle traumatic, for you guys and for everybody here,” he noted, explaining that the point of the angsty first half of the season was “to get from that point to a point where these characters can smile again.”

Remember what joy looks like?

Image: Gene Page/AMC

The second half of Season 7, on the other hand, is more about “seeing these people come alive again and earning the place where they are now,” he said. (It would be nice if we could also keep them alive, but that might be a little too optimistic.)

Here’s what else we learned from the cast and producers at PaleyFest:

Eugene (or should we say “Negan”) is just trying to survive, according to actor Josh McDermitt. The cowardly engineer seems a little too comfortable bossing people around at the Saviors’ HQ, but McDermitt doesn’t think he’s actively trying to betray his friendsor to help them, for that matter.

“I dont really feel like hes playing a game; hes out for himself, hes trying to protect himself,” he explained. “Eugene is scared, and a lot of that fear is coming from Negan… why not align yourself with the man whos causing the most fear in your life? Weve seen him adapt and change. We may see him change and adapt again if he continues to live on in the series. Thats how he survives; he lies, he manipulateshes like a cockroach, man.”

There could be hope for Dwight. While Eugene’s busy playing dress-up at the Sanctuary, Dwight seems to be having second thoughts about living under Negan’s oppressive rule, and actor Austin Amelio admitted that he relished the opportunity to show a more vulnerable side of his troubled character in episode 711. “When I first got that script I felt a reprieve, because most of the time Im popping out from behind trees… or shooting your favorite character,” Amelio joked, pointing out that the episode gave viewers some insight into “what he truly cares about and what hes fighting for.” Is redemption possible for Negan’s right-hand man? “I hope so,” Amelio said.

What doesn’t kill you makes you strongerespecially when you’re Maggie. Lauren Cohan admitted that the only way her character can deal with the loss of her husband and the rest of her family is because “shes come to understand its not about her, its not about any of us as individuals; its about them as a whole, them as a greater good, them persevering because theyre still standing.”

While it would be easy for someone in Maggie’s circumstances to give up, Cohan said, “What other reason would there be to experience such loss than to have life inside of you and to know that you still have to live for that?” She added, “The more people she loses, the stronger the fire burns in her to share and to spread and to strengthen everyone else she’s with.”

Don’t mess with Maggie.

Image: Gene Page/AMC

Sasha is pretty tough too. Sonequa Martin-Green expressed a similar sentiment to Cohan, especially since Sasha and Rosita (Christian Serratos) are now planning to join forces to take down Negan in a mission that neither of them are planning to return from. “It is not about me anymore, its not about me pursuing my own survival or my own safety, its about solidifying the future that we can create,” she said of Sasha’s motivations after Abraham’s death.

Melissa McBride doesn’t see Carol as a badass (and that makes her even more badass). “Badass is really hard for me to wrap my head around because I dont feel like I play her as a badass, she just does badass-y things,” she admitted. “Im so proud of Carol. [What she’s going through is] nothing compared to what she came from. If she could withstand that… and still shes learning from where she was. Any bad thing that happens that you cant learn from it is a missed opportunity. Its okay to be in a mess when your mind is in a mess. Im proud of her for that and I do admire that in her for being honest with herself and not just being a people-pleaser.”

Andrew Lincoln thinks Michonne is the key to Rick’s new sense of purpose. “The thing I love about playing this guy is, hes been beaten down onto the canvas so many times and he keeps pulling himself back up, generally for other people. This is the first time he hasnt done that, hes needed a helping hand up, and shes absolutely key in his return,” he said. Oh, and he’s also okay with the idea of Rick and Michonne having a kid of their own someday: “We’ve got to repopulate the world,” he shrugged.

The Walking Dead airs Sundays at 9 p.m. on AMC.

WATCH: Rare Walking Dead facts about zombie food and SWAT teams on set