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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 3 years

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Gêdajal

Part 8 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’. Who know how many more parts are going to follow… Link to Series Masterlist.

Thorin falls for a Dwarrowdame raised by Elves, and tries to make know his feelings, but accidentally offends her, which leads to another and another misunderstanding between the two.

Based off of @immawriteyouthings ‘Falling Stars’

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Estel

Word Count: 1,418

Warning(s): Swear word

Translation(s): Gêdajal: Realization

Síndarin: Aithand: Not true

Cúthad: You lie

~~~

It was the highest stakes game of rock-paper-sword ever played. Not that I knew it at the time. Little had I suspected just how dramatically the outcome would change my perspective on certain things.

I had been off by myself again like I usually was nowadays, and Bilbo and Bofur had cornered me--much to my surprise--and roped me into playing a game of rock-paper-sword. When I had asked why I needed to play, Bofur had spouted some rubbish about it being for my own good.

Hogwash.

Eru only knew what the consequences would be if I lost, which I was certain was not going to happen. Contrarily to what many believed--Thorin especially--I was not dim-witted. Quite the contrary, actually. I was always ready for a good mind game or riddle.

With that in mind, I shouldn't have been surprised that Bilbo got involved in this--what with his expertise in riddles--for here he was, standing before me with his fingers held out in the guise of a sword. The Hobbit was better at this than I had anticipated. It had been foolish of me to underestimate him.

"Aithand! No!" I cried in disbelief; my own hand laid flat out in the imitation of a sheaf of paper. This was the third straight time he had beat me in the game, meaning I had to do.... something. They hadn't told me yet, which only made me suspicious about the severity of my consequence.

Bofur let out a triumphant laugh and punched the Hobbit's shoulder, knocking him back a few steps as he grimaced in pain. "I knew ya could do it, Master Boggins!" He exclaimed, grinning widely and totally missing the annoyed expression Bilbo wore at the mispronunciation of his surname.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared steadily at the pair. "Alright, what do I have to do now that I've lost?" I asked, and Bofur's grin turned sly.

"Follow us." He said, rising to his feet and walking away towards the clearing where we had once more set up camp on our journey. According to Gandalf, we were only a few weeks walk from someplace where we would be offered shelter.

Walking after Bofur, my steps became hesitant as I caught sight of the entire company gathered around the glowing embers of the fire. What in Eru's name was going on?

Bilbo picked up on my hesitance and laid a cautious hand on my arm. I looked down at him, frowning as I took in his encouraging smile. "Go on, they aren't going to bite. It's for your own good." He said quietly, and I narrowed my eyes, wondering what they weren't telling me.

Why were they constantly talking about it being 'for my own good'?

But I continued forward until I was ushered into a seat right across from Balin. Settling myself comfortably, I shot a look around the circle, noticing that there was one person missing.

"Where's Master Thorin?" I asked, and Balin smiled, folding his hands in his lap.

"He's currently occupied so we can have this chat." He said, I watched him curiously. What chat did we need to have?

"What do we need to talk about?" I questioned warily, and a few of the Dwarves snickered quietly, making me glance around in confusion. If I was just going to be made fun of...

"A lot of things, but first we'll need to start at the beginning." Balin said, refocusing my attention on him. "Your abrupt reveal of your upbringing gave us some answers to many of our questions."

Now I was even more confused. "What questions?" I asked, nervously tugging on a loose thread on my pastel cloak.

"Well, we had been wondering how you didn't know anything about Khuzdul or the courting ritual, as well as why you kept pushing Thorin away even as you pined for him." He said, and his blunt words brought an unwanted flush to my cheeks.

Ducking my head slightly to allow my black hair to form a somewhat effective curtain, I let out a deep breath. "I don't love Thorin." I muttered, making Balin chuckle and shake his head. But before he could speak, Bofur piped up.

"That's an outright lie, Lass, and you know it. You don't think we haven't seen you watch Thorin from afar when you think no one's lookin'? Quite often at that?" He teased, and Fili and Kili nodded.

"Aye, Bofur's right. Me and Kee have seen you watching Uncle quite a bit. A bit like how he watches you. And how Kee watches Lory." Fili said, dodging the elbow Kili threw his way, and I rolled my eyes, wondering why they didn't get it.

"Cúthad. You all keep saying things like that, but I don't understand. You say that Thorin likes me, but I've never seen a hint of that. He goes out of his way to be rude to me." I said angrily, and Balin's gaze grew solemn.

"That's what I'm trying to explain here if certain people would let me finish," he said, shooting a look towards Fili and Kili. "In our courting ritual, the first step to show your interest in someone is to offer them a weapon--"

Understanding blazed through me, and my eyes widened as everything suddenly began to make sense. "Wait, so you mean when I gave Thorin my dagger as a thank you," I shot Bofur a look that he returned with a wink, "in his mind I was asking to court him?" I asked, and Balin nodded.

"Correct. And when he accepted the dagger, that meant he was accepting your offer to court him, so to speak. That's where the next step comes into play. He was supposed to give you a weapon as well as part of the process, and if you accepted it that meant you both could move onto the next step."

Again, I spoke up, my eyes darting back and forth as I thought. "I thought he was being rude and trying to insinuate that I was horrible at protecting myself and needed another weapon to do so, so I rejected the sword he offered me, which means I rejected his offer to court me in a way?" I asked, and everyone nodded.

"Aye, that's right, Miss Estel. In Thorin's mind that basically meant you weren't satisfied with his offered weapon or no longer wanted to court him, in which case he tried to sort out what went wrong." Balin said quietly, his blue eyes twinkling at me as I contemplated the past few weeks.

"Thorin can come across as angry or gruff, especially when he's trying to hide his true feelings," Dwalin spoke up, "when ye rejected him, he tried to hide his feelings and protect himself from yer rejection. He's never felt like this for a Dwarrowdame before, so he's rightly a bit nervous. Especially since ye were a bit standoffish." The tattooed dwarf said, and I watched him with an understanding gaze.

"That's what I've been doing too. I didn't think that Thorin had any sort of affection for me, so I bottled it all up and tried to forget about it...." I murmured quietly, reflecting on my newfound information.

"Now all ya have to do is show him how ya feel." Bofur said, giving me an easy smile that I failed to return. He didn't know how bloody scary it was to bare your heart to someone; even if that someone supposedly returned your feelings.

"I will do that," I said uncertainly before giving everyone a hard stare. "As long as everyone else stays quiet about my feelings," I said.

Whispers suddenly erupted around the circle, and Fili and Kili tittered as they winked suggestively at me. Honestly, those two were more like toddlers than the adults they claimed to be. Surely Kili would be more mature; he had a wife!

"What is all this? Are you holding a meeting without me, Balin?" Thorin's deep voice rumbled gruffly behind me, and I gulped. Things were about to get even more awkward than they usually were. I could only hope that everyone would follow my plea and not say anything.

I wanted to state my feelings in my own way and in my own timing; not have my hand forced. Also, I didn't quite believe everyone's words about how much Thorin cared for me. I wanted to see for myself before I did anything, especially so now that I knew what I was looking for.

#thorin #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #thorin oakenshield x oc #misunderstanding #fanfic #fanfiction #the hobbit #dwarves #the company #a deep misunderstanding #realization #oblivious oc isn't so oblivious anymore #meddling company

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Endeavour Theory: Has Morse Already Crossed Paths With Nemesis Hugo de Vries?

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Warning: contains spoilers for Endeavour Series 7 and Inspector Morse episode ‘Masonic Mysteries’.

There’s a beauty to mystery that could hardly be lost on fans of Endeavour, a series with playfulness in its bones, as evidenced by its regular tips of the hat to pop culture and Morse creator Colin Dexter. The show’s viewers understand that ambiguities deliberately positioned as such should be allowed to stand, unaccosted by any fun-sucking need for certainty. We’re not here to unweave rainbows or clip angel wings.

That said, Endeavour does love a game, and its fans love to play along. So while appreciating that some things are destined to rightly remain in the hazy hinterland of maybe, let’s play. The name of this game? Find Hugo de Vries!

Played by Ian McDiarmid in Inspector Morse Series 4 episode ‘Masonic Mysteries’ (1990), Hugo de Vries is a fan-favourite villain in the world of Morse. Erudite and cultured with a love of classical music, he has much in common with the detective, as is fitting for any two nemeses. A great difference of course, is that de Vries is a diabolical killer utterly without conscience.

Ian McDiarmid as Hugo de Vries in Inspector Morse Series 4 episode ‘Masonic Mysteries’

In de Vries’ one and only Inspector Morse appearance, Morse finds himself framed for the murder of a woman from his choir, which is staging a production of Mozart’s The Magic Flute. After the murder, Morse finds almost £100,000 transferred to his bank account from the charity administrated by the victim. Morse’s personal file on the police computer is hacked to insert a fictional past event in which he supposedly attacked a woman, and his guvnor – McNutt at the time – covered it up. His home is set on fire, he’s pulled over and breathalysed after an anonymous complaint is made about his erratic driving, his Jag is vandalised with masonic symbols and McNutt’s dead body is discovered in his bathroom. All of it, realises an increasingly unhinged Morse, is the work of de Vries, who’s borne a grudge against Morse since his sergeant days.

Endeavour being the story of those very days, Inspector Morse fans have been watching the prequel closely for a cameo by the younger Hugo de Vries. After another ‘Masonic Mysteries’ character, Marion Brooke, turned up in Series 3’s ‘Arcadia’, Endeavour writer Russell Lewis was asked in this 2017 interview whether Endeavour would one day bump into de Vries. Lewis replied, “Each thing in its season. I shouldn’t be surprised to see him sooner or later.”

Jump forward four years to a post-Series Eight finale exchange on Twitter when Lewis is asked the same question. The writer’s answer this time is more playful. “Ah, Hugo. Who can say if he hasn’t already crossed our path? He might well have done, of course. On the other hand… ‘Now you see him, now you don’t. That’s de Vries all right’.”

Ryan Gage as Ludo Talenti in Endeavour Series 7

In the spirit of investigation, let’s assess the evidence. Is Lewis just teasing or has Hugo de Vries already crossed our path in Endeavour, namely in the form of Ryan Gage’s Series Seven villain Ludo Talenti?

That name alone may contain all the clue we need. Not only do Hugo and Ludo bear more than a glancing resemblance, but the latter in Latin is the first person of the verb ‘to play’. ‘I play… many talents’ would be an inelegant translation. A better one might include the possible allusion to Patricia Highsmith’s famous conman Tom Ripley, given the epithet ‘Talented’ in his first appearance. Like Ripley, both Hugo and Ludo are master manipulators who charm and inveigle their way to wealth, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake.

To jog the memory, Ludo recurred throughout Series Seven, initially presenting himself as a university contemporary of Morse’s who ran into him after Morse’s wallet was lifted at a garden concert (almost certainly a ruse designed to engineer the ‘accidental’ meeting). Ludo befriended Morse and the pair bonded over a shared love of opera. Ludo’s family is in shipping, he tells Morse, and he travels around raising money for their charitable fund, driven by a pursuit of music and beautiful women.

Endeavour: the Series 8 Finale’s Easter Eggs and Homages

By Louisa Mellor

Endeavour: The Beautiful Poignancy of Series 8’s Last Lines

By Louisa Mellor

When Morse asks him which country he’s from, Ludo is coy, preferring to say he is a “man of the world.” He later tells a childhood story about life during Nazi occupation, which throws up various suggestions but like so much Ludo says, that could well be fiction. For what it’s worth, the saying he cites as from his country, “Do not praise a day before sunset,” is Polish. And what of Hugo de Vries’ nationality? Ian McDiarmid’s accent in ‘Masonic Mysteries’ is difficult to place, though the name is Dutch (borrowed from a famous botanist), and he faked his death in prison in Sweden. (Ludo incidentally tells Morse that he posed as a Swedish policeman on the phone once to track the detective down.) Ludo’s name, it’s revealed in the Series 7 finale, was taken from the gravestone of a 16th century priest on Venice’s San Michele cemetery island.

Ludo Talenti’s priest namesake revealed in Endeavour’s Series 7 finale

To tot up the similarities so far, that’s two criminals, of indiscriminate European origin, around Morse’s age, fluent in the language of classical music and opera, living under assumed names. Both also share a snobbish disdain for the police. Ludo expressed surprise that a man as cultured as Morse would be “a lumpen, plodding petty official” while Hugo sneered at Morse’s colleagues going about in pairs “like low comedians.” They also share a similarly rarefied, Bond Villain-ish way of speaking (Every man has his price, every man, I shall make it my life’s business to find yours,”), and express the same nihilistic attitude. “Life, death, rich, poor, it’s all a roll of the dice, Morse, there’s no reason to any of it,” says Ludo, foreshadowing Hugo’s words when he forces Morse to his knees at gunpoint in ‘Masonic Mysteries’. “He was clever, you see,” Inspector Morse tells Lewis in that episode, “he took one look and knew your weakness right away.” In Series 7, Ludo jokes to Morse that he will find his weakness and exploit it without mercy to his own ends.

What else? The nature of their crimes. In ‘Masonic Mysteries’ Morse tells Lewis that his past encounter with de Vries saw him con Oxford University out of millions of pounds. His scam had a kind of poetry to it – posing as the heir to a Swedish armaments manufacturer, de Vries proposed the building of an institute for peace studies. His later scheme involved stealing money from Marion Brooke’s charitable foundation to frame Morse.

Paperwork from Ludo’s life insurance policy scam. Note the signature.

Ludo’s Series 7 scheme was less poetic, but of a similar flavour. He bought up life insurance policies of people looking for a quick pay out, killed them, cashed in, and disguised the deaths as freak accidents. One such victim was poor Carrie Bright, the cancer-suffering wife of ACC Bright. (In a rather baroque twist, the initials of the locations for each murder spelled out the name L.U.D.O.). Both men wore disguises to do their evil work – de Vries posed as a homeless man to murder Morse’s former guvnor McNutt, and Talenti posed as a healer to gain access to the Bright home and sabotage their Christmas lights, causing Mrs Bright’s death by electrocution. Note in the image above the name of the Executive Director of Ludo’s fake company ‘California Amenity Redemption and Disbursement’ (or C.A.R.D, perhaps another game-play reference…) in the signature on one of his victim’s letters: E. De Vere?

Hugo and Ludo didn’t work alone on their devilish schemes, they each had a female accomplice. Hugo’s was the aforementioned Marion Brooke, a devotee who shared his revenge obsession (Hugo’s the kind of man who makes women kick off their shoes and men open their chequebooks when he enters a room, Morse once told Lewis). Ludo’s was Violetta (played by Stephanie Leonidas), who started a passionate affair with Morse during his holiday in Venice. In the Series 7 denouement, Ludo says that he picked Violetta from the streets when she was 15 years old and “gave her the world,” forcing her to become his co-conspirator in the life insurance murders and the plan to make Morse his “pet policeman”.

On the subject of having police officers in your pocket, Hugo de Vries’ association with Morse’s longstanding adversaries the Masons mustn’t be forgotten. De Vries taunted Morse with his masonic connections, through Mozart’s freemason-themed opera The Magic Flute. There’s no evidence that Ludo Talenti was involved with the freemasons yet, but Endeavour viewers know that they’re in full operation in Oxford at the time.

Endeavour Morse attends ‘The Demon’s Wife’ opera in Venice

Endeavour and Violetta met at a performance of ‘La Sposa del Demonio’ in Venice, an operatic work by Endeavour composer Matthew Slater, which translates fittingly as ‘The Demon’s Wife’. Demons come up a great deal around Talenti and de Vries. “There speaks a devil sick of sin,” Ludo says to Endeavour. “There may not be a devil, but there’s devilry alright, and de Vries…” says Inspector Morse, walking away from Hugo’s burial and doubting whether or not he’s really in the coffin. (De Vries’ name, cryptic crossword fans can’t ignore, shares its first three letters with ‘devil’). And perhaps it just suited his complexion, but Ludo wears deep red numerous times in Series 7, perhaps in echo to de Vries’ burgundy shirt in his sole appearance.

Speaking of that Venetian denouement, did Ludo not die after being shot by Fred Thursday and falling into a canal, putting the kibosh on the ‘Ludo is Hugo’ theory? Well, he was certainly shot, and he certainly did fall into the canal, but did he die, or did that devil live to return and torment Morse under a new name in future adventures? You’ve heard the evidence. What’s your verdict?

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Endeavour Series 8 is available to stream on ITV Hub and Britbox.

The post Endeavour Theory: Has Morse Already Crossed Paths With Nemesis Hugo de Vries? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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adragonhoardingstories · 4 years

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Of Blood and Bonds- Chapter 5

@mystery-5-5 @synnesstra @thesunanditsangel

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@be-happy-every-day-please @blue-peach14 @annabellabrookes

@jaynintodd @st0rmy-w1th1n @bluerosette23 @ladysblackcat @18-fandoms-unite-08

@vixen-uchiha @novicevoice @jessigurl-design @tinyterror333

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@sassydepression @caffeinetheory

@reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo

@krispydefendorpolice @mermaidofthelost @drarryismylife101 @ladybug-182 @northernbluetongue @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @iloontjeboontje @mjisntme

Tag list for this is closed!

On that note, this book will contain swearing, mentions of rape and torture. I will try not be explicit but that's really relative. Read at your own risk. There will be warning before if I make a explicit scene so that you can skip it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and don't hunt me down for this.

Happy New Year

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

Another day she had needed to spend with the idiots in her class. Once again, she felt like cursing her parents.

Marinette was by all means done with Lycée, she was following University courses but after Tom and Sabine had disowned her in all but name, it's not like they knew that. Most of her old relations had no idea what she was up to and it suited her not seeing them ever again.

But despite everything, the Dupain-Chengs she didn't consider herself one anymore did to her, they still didn't want her to dishonour their family even more so they made an arrangement with her and her Lycée.

She had to at least show up for the exams and any school functions and they would leave her alone to do as she pleased instead of sending her to a boarding school and well with all her responsibilities, she never really had a choice.

Which brought her here - on the Gotham Field Trip. She really didn't know why they had even sent her here, they were only wasting their money and Sabine must have known that the chances of her meeting Bruce were high, especially since their activities were centered around Wayne Enterprises.

Today they were going to be assigned to one person they had to shadow all day - it was supposed to help them get some actual job experience.

Marinette was chosen to shadow the CEO - how surprising - and it just so happened that today was one of the rare days Bruce Wayne was in the company so she would have the pleasure of helping both him and Tim depending on who needed her most - yay her.

She was willing bet her future fashion empire that Bruce had orchestrated this in an attempt to get a chance to talk to her.

However she had to admire that one good thing come out of this - Lila Rossi got served.

Like she had mentioned it before, she didn't have anything to do with her past classmates except the bare minimum but it seemed even now the liar still felt threatened by her every time they met. And honestly, she couldn't care less except that wench was the reason her parents had turned against her and of course how could we forget the worse thing of all? That Lila Rossi was willingly working with Hawkmoth - a known terrorist.

So the jobs had been announced and Lila has started her usual act and name dropping and oh there must have been a mistake, Timothy told me that I would be chosen to work with him since I'm already used to helping him. That had received a sharp look from the one delegating and a simple comment about Miss Rossi you are to report to our legal team, they have something prepared especially for you. Seeing Lie-La pale and shut up so yeah that had been the highlight of her day.

But now, now she was most certainly going to be forced to speak to her father and she kind of wished that Lila had succeeded for once.

Just as the lady she had grown to like was about to show her the way, her father magically appeared not really, she had seen him hiding in the shadows for the last five minutes and offered to guide her himself.

As she predicted, he said nothing else, until they were in his office but once the doors were closed…

"Mari-" He started to speak but then the doors banged open and a haggard looking Tim Drake stumbled in.

"Nette, I heard I got you today. Thank fuck I didn't get one of the brats." He stumbled in on the couch, paying Bruce no mind and grinned at her. "Plus, I get sister bonding time so win-win for me."

Marinette looked from him to Bruce. "You have impeccable timing." She informed him. "So I'm going to make you coffee."

"You are an angel." He declared. "An absolute angel. Now I understand why Damian likes you so much."

Marinette laughed it off. "Damian likes me because I don't call him Demon Spawn Timbers."

"In my defense." He groaned. "He was a brat back then and now, well it's basically a nickname. Call it brother's privilege if you want. And he knows it."

Marinette smiled gently at him as she placed a cup of coffee in front of him and Bruce, and sat down drinking her own cup. "Does he know that?"

Tim blinked at her, a thoughtful expression taking place on his face.

It lasted until he tasted the coffee, then it was replaced by awe.

"This is so good, how is this so good, it's literally the same thing I drink everyday? Can you work for me permanently?"

She was amused and this conversation seemed to shock her father so it was a plus. "But Timmy, if I change my career how are you going to get your special MDC suits?"

That strangely made him go serious.

"About that, I needed to talk to you."

Marinette raised an eyebrow, this should be good.

"What would you think if Wayne Enterprises becomes the main sponsor for MDC?"

She leant back in her seat crossing her feet and took a long sip of her drink.

"Now why would I agree to that?"

Tim looked surprised while she was careful to keep her own face carefully blank but he recovered quick enough and seemed to thrive on the challenge.

Marinette could pinpoint the exact moment when he changed to his game face. "Why wouldn't you? This in the long term will benefit you especially when you decide to release your line or officially start your company."

"Who said anything about releasing a line? Right now I'm on a clientele only basis and the greatest thing about MDC right now is my anonymity. My business is flourishing and I'm on high demand, especially among celebrities so you can imagine the price I get for each of my works. Why would I want to change that?"

"While that is true, the novelty will eventually wash off. Your designs may be good enough for you to get some loyal customers but you won't be as you put it in high demand anymore. And I may have known you for only a while, but I doubt you haven't planned for the future."

Marinette could admit, she was a little impressed. "Also true, but I'm currently a millionaire and have more than enough money to launch a line by myself."

Tim opened his mouth to interrupt but she continues before he could.

"And yes, I do understand how accepting your offer will benefit me more but signing with you also means that will represent my brand and how can I - bearing my own interests in mind - accept knowing is publicly involved with Wayne Enterprises?"

He looked completely lost and Marinette was probably having more fun that she should with this. "I'm not sure I follow?"

"I mean that even if people don't outright state it, everyone knows that the Wayne finances and outfits the Gotham vigilantes."

"And your point is?" The poor boy was going to make her say it.

"Your costumes are a fashion disaster Timmy, an eyesore if not a horror?"

"They're not that bad!"

"Do not get me started on the first Robin's costume. Were you not in your right mind when you allowed it?" For the first time in the day, she spoke to Bruce.

"Wait, you know?" She shot Tim a questioning look. Why hadn't told him, she figured it out? The boy just shrugged and she sighed.

"It's not that difficult to figure out Bats. You and Mom literally met while you training in extreme martial arts and the way she described you doesn't match up with the idea the media has of you so I was already suspicious and then I met them and I saw them in costume, they have the same build and everything and their alibi was frankly terrible. Also the rate at which you take in kids matches with the appearance of each new Robin."

"When was the last time you got your IQ tested?" He demanded.

Marinette elected to ignore that comment in favour of finishing her conversation with Tim. "So?"

"So if I get everyone to agree to a costume redesign by you, you'll sign?"

"I get to re-design and remake all of your costumes as well as become the go to for the family for all your events."

"That's a lot of conditions."

She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "Those are my terms but if you'd like, you can consider the part about your costumes a favor to you sister so that she doesn't get a heart attack everytime she sees you suited up."

"I'll agree as long as you admit you're exaggerating."

Marinette gave him a deadpan look. "Have you ever seen the Red Hood helmet. I have nightmares about it."

He considered it. "Yeah okay that's fair. So should I start working on the papers?"

Marinette shook her head. "I'm going to rebrand once and for all once I'm 18 along with my face reveal."

"Rebrand, why?"

"Like you rightly pointed out two nights ago MDC stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Well I don't want to be a Dupain-Cheng for longer than I have to. I'll be changing my name hence the rebranding."

"Would you consider Wayne?" Bruce asked softly. Marinette paused. She had been considering taking Master Fu's name actually. "I don't know B."

"I'll leave you two to talk." Tim said slowly getting up and she would have protested but she could not run from this forever and the Kwami pressing against her leg seemed to agree.

"Yeah just…" She took out her phone and send him a contact. "That's my lawyer, you can send her the papers to review. I'll talk to her about it."

Tim checked his phone and went slack jawed. "Elle Woods. Elle Woods is your lawyer." He threw his hands up in defeat. "I don't know why I'm still surprised at this point but I'm gonna ask, how did you get her to work for you?"

"She's one of my regulars. "

"Of course she is." Tim muttered. Marinette watched silently as he went to refill his cup of coffee but ended up taking the whole coffee machine with him and walked out of the door.

Marinette turned to Bruce. She was not looking forward to this but she sighed and got up. "I'm supposed to be working so give me something to do."

"I thought you agreed we need to talk Marinette."

"I never agreed to anything." She reminded him. "But yes we'll talk." She pointed a finger at him. "While I work. So, give me something to do."

"You need this to be on your terms." He noted.

"I know you've researched what happened. After having been stripped from my senses and having my will taken away from me, yes I do enjoy being in control." She dared him to say something. "So. Give. Me. Something. To. Do."

"You can arrange the paper on the desk. According to the project names, put it in alphabetical order with A being on top."

Marinette set to work without another word. Bruce took that as his cue to start speaking.

"You know about Batman. The year I stopped talking to you was when when I was assumed dead-"

"Then why?" She cut in sharply. "Did Alfred not even deign inform me that my father was dead? Or what about after you came back?"

He stayed silent.

"The truth B is that even before that you were speaking to me less and less. Your phone calls, rare as they were, were always so short I was never able to tell you what i wanted." She gave out a humorless laugh. "You know I used to be scared that you didn't want me. I mean why else would you keep me a secret from your other children? So I didn't complain because I didn't want to stop having the little time you even gave to me. Guess, I was right in the end."

"No." He stood up and came to stand in front of her. "Marinette sweetie, please believe me. I fell in love with you from the moment I saw you. I've never not wanted you but my lifestyle was always very dangerous but I never realised how much it really was until Jason died and then shortly after I returned Damian died. Every child of mine has been traumatized in some way by my enemies. I didn't want the same to happen to you. There are villains out there who know who I am. I got scared Marinette, distancing myself from you was me trying to protect you. I know - I know it doesn't excuse me not being there for you but you need to know I am so so sorry. Please let me make it up to you. "

Marinette felt the kwamis on her person press against her, offering their silent support.

"I'm willing to try." She said at last, finishing arranging the last of the documents. She looked up at him and could basically read the hope in his expression. "But you need to give me space. I'm not coming to live in Gotham nor am I going to defer to you. I've built my own life, you're not going to interfere with in. You can be in it but you don't get to try and change things."

"Okay, okay I can work with that."

"Then you've got yourself a deal." Marinette offered him her hand to shake and he did shake it but right after, he pulled her in a hug.

Bruce realized his mistake when Marinette stiffened up but she relaxed in his arms and she slowly, almost hesitantly clutched his shirt, like a small child holding their dad's shirt, trying to hide in his arms.

And a father's heart broke all over again.

#MLB X DC #maribat #platonic daminette #mentions of rape #torture #lila salt #adrien salt

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ingek73 · 3 years

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Victoria Arbiter: The Prince Harry photo 'debate' that reflects our era of misinformation

By Victoria Arbiter| 11 hours ago

According to Britain's Daily Mail, a "transatlantic row" is brewing over Joe Biden's recent decision to remove a bust of Sir Winston Churchill from the Oval Office, several years after Barack Obama provoked a similar storm.

Suggesting the move a "snub to the UK", critics claim it also indicates a further dwindling of the nations' "special relationship", which has been in existence since WWII.

Joe Biden at Oval Office desk wearing mask

US President Joe Biden in his newly-decorated Oval Office - sans Winston Churchill bust. (Jabin Botsford/Getty Images)

While it's imperative to ensure close ties are maintained, ministers demanding America's head of state display the bust of a former British PM seems arrogant in the extreme. Surely extolling the virtues of one's own citizens takes priority over honouring the international elite.

Likewise, those featured in last week's inauguration represented the very best of America, not the rest of the world. For that reason alone, it was baffling to see many pushing the idea Dr. Jill Biden had requested a photo of Prince Harry to serve as part of the backdrop to her husband's big day.

A close friend of the Bidens, the Prince's achievements speak for themselves, but still it's a stretch to think any president would use an inauguration to give a shout out to a royal. Nonetheless, multiple parties chose to repeat random musings as fact with zero regard for the role they were playing in perpetuating fake news.

As the sun began to set on Inauguration Wednesday, Clinton staffer, Jon Davidson, posted a photo to Twitter revealing Bill and Hillary Clinton deep in conversation with Joe Biden. Clearly instructed to document the day, he took the snap shortly after the former president laid a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery alongside Obama, Bush Jr. and the newly inaugurated Joe Biden.

Though the shot merely captured an innocuous exchange, its background — revealing a large wall mounted image of Prince Harry in Ceremonial Dress — immediately led to an online debate. Given the Prince's close association to the current First Family, some observers were swift to credit the Bidens for featuring the Prince on an opulent scale.

Were it an accurate assumption it would be prestigious indeed, but the picture in question was not hung on the day, nor was it there at the Bidens' request; rather it forms part of a permanent exhibition dedicated to preserving the history of Arlington National Cemetery. Housed in the Memorial Display Room since 2013, it's a fitting reminder of the day Harry laid a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier on behalf of the Queen, the British armed forces and as a representative of the UK.

Prince Harry at the Arlington National Cemetery on May 10, 2013.

A photo of Prince Harry at the Arlington Memorial similar to the one spotted in Jon Davidson's photo. (Getty)

As misinformation goes it was fairly benign, but as the narrative gained traction it spoke to the speed with which fake news now spreads; a problem Prince Harry is especially keen to stamp out. In an interview for Fast Company magazine published a week ago Friday, the Prince spoke of the digital landscape and the role it plays in furthering hate and toxicity in public debate.

Believing social media platforms responsible for helping propagate "an avalanche of misinformation" and "a barrage of mistruths", Harry said, "What happens online does not stay online – it spreads everywhere, like wildfire: into our homes and workplaces, into the streets, into our minds. The question really becomes about what to do when news and information sharing is no longer a decent, truthful exchange, but rather an exchange of weaponry."

In a hard-hitting speech in 2018, Prince William expressed a similar concern. Accusing online firms of being distracted by profit he said, "Technology companies still have a great deal to learn about the responsibilities that come with their significant power."

Prince William and Prince Harry

William and Harry have both condemned the societal impacts of misinformation via big tech. (Getty)

By failing to tackle fake news, division, trolling and privacy, 'Big Tech' arguably shoulders much of the blame, but it's up to users to ensure their digital dialogue is factually based and not a misguided means to promoting a cause. Considering the vitriol unleashed by Harry's inauguration day sighting, we have a long way to go if we're ever to eliminate the endless cycle of hate.

Prince Harry's friendship with the President and First Lady is one built on shared experience and support. Having tragically lost his wife, young daughter and later his son, Biden is all too familiar with the agony of grief. He regularly talks of his personal sorrows as a way to connect with others in pain.

The Bidens' late son, Beau, was an active member of the military and like Harry, he too was deployed to a warzone. A National Guard family, the Bidens have been advocates of the Invictus Games and they've consistently shown their appreciation for veterans whose sacrifices have helped keep the nation safe.

Committed as both parties are to fulfilling public service, their mutual respect should be echoed and admired. Even so, had the Bidens opted to install large scale images of public figures to mark the inauguration, they rightly would have plumped for prominent Americans and not as some intimated their good friend, Prince Harry.

The issue, of course, is a vast hypothetical, but it illustrates the need for a healthy dose of common sense before hitting 'tweet'. Instead of jumping on a bandwagon in which misinformation reigns, it's worth reviewing the objective before being a conduit to bitter arguments and hate.

Jill Biden and Prince Harry attend the wheelchair basketball final on day 8 of the Invictus Games Toronto in 2017.

Harry's friendship with the Bidens is one built on shared experience and support. ((Photo by Samir Hussein/Samir Hussein/WireImage)

Where Twitter used to be littered with cat videos and witty hot takes, it's since descended into a cesspit of rage. Yet, as the inauguration of the 46th president of the United States got underway there was, for a moment, a small glimmer of hope.

As hilarious memes featuring a mitten-clad Bernie Sanders quickly gained steam, so too evolved a collective sense of camaraderie and joy. Positive commentary fueled by an abundance of goodwill created a feeling of unity sorely lacking in years: Kamala Harris was lauded, Michelle Obama hailed and after her jaw-dropping performance, Amanda Gorman was lavished with praise. Granted the enthusiasm didn't extend to all, but still negativity was largely overruled, proving it's possible to engage in civil discourse even when certain groups vehemently disagree.

Despite its many drawbacks, social media's here to stay, but when used constructively there's tremendous potential for good. In order for it to provide a safe forum, however, it's imperative seismic changes are made. Harry's not, as some have attested, calling for censure, nor an end to free speech. He's using his platform to push for reform. While he undoubtedly has a significant battle on his hands, should he be successful the resulting impact could be huge.

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle pictured in 2018.

Harry declared in a recent interview: "What happens online does not stay online – it spreads everywhere, like wildfire." (AP)

"It's a false choice to say you have to pick between free speech or a more compassionate and trustworthy digital world," he said. "They are not mutually exclusive… there can be disagreement, conversation, opposing points of view – as there should be, but never to the extent that violence is created, truth is mystified, and lives are jeopardised."

Put more simply, perhaps we could all subscribe to the wise words of Rumi, the 13th-century poet and theologian, who once said, "Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates. At the first gate, ask yourself, 'Is it true?' At the second gate ask, 'Is it necessary?' At the third gate ask, 'Is it kind?'"

A simple philosophy it may be, but it's one as potent today as it was centuries ago.

#royals #prince harry #duke of sussex #victoria arbiter #brf #prince william #joe biden #jill biden

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iturbide · 3 years

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Character Breakdown! - Marianne 💖 and Dorothea

MY GIRLS

How do I feel about this character?

I love her. I love this gentle girl who has gone through so much pain and hardship, who’s lost her parents to what she believes is a curse that she shares, who is afraid of herself as much as she fears the hatred of those around her. I can’t tell you how many times I started talking to my screen while going through her supports, because you’re wrong Marianne you do deserve happiness you are good at things I believe in you even if you don’t believe in yourself. She’s very relatable, honestly, with her shyness coupled with self-deprecation as a defense mechanism to keep people away, not to mention the deep depression; again, mental health issues are generally a taboo thing in media, so I was more than a little shocked when I got her A support and realized just what she’d been praying so fervently to the Goddess for. But I also love that about her: she held strong, and she made it through to a better place, which is such a wonderfully hopeful story for anyone with similar struggles, showing that things can get better if you just hold on.

Who do I ship this character with romantically?

I have an answer this time and technically I spoiled it in an earlier character breakdown. Because it’s Dimitri. I love these two broken people and the idea of them managing to support each other, using one another as an anchor to keep from falling further and slowly pulling themselves back out of the lonely places they’ve fallen, both with the other’s help and with the other in mind. I think they would make a wonderful pair since they understand the other’s struggles so deeply, and I’m aiming for their paired endcard in my AM run in progress.

Also, not gonna lie, I do low-key ship her with Hilda because cotton candy girlfriends. I just think they’re sweet and I love how Marianne laughs in their A support, how bright and open and cheerful it sounds. It just does my heart good.

Who is my brOTP for this character?

Marianne deserves to have so many friends. Aside from Claude (who is friends with just about everyone, this is non-negotiable with me), I really love her supports with Ignatz, and how he’s so gentle in coaxing her out of her shell and reassuring her that he enjoys sharing time with her. They’re sweet, and I love their friendship dearly. Also, surprisingly, Lorenz is another one who comes to mind; their A support was one of those that hit me right in the heart, and the fact that he’s so conscious of her feelings and urges her not to force herself to talk about things that upset her makes me think they would be very close friends, with Lorenz looking out for her and even running casual interference for her when she gets overwhelmed before inviting her to tea so she can calm down.

What’s my Unpopular Opinion™ about this character?

Okay so I know that Fandom loves the idea that Marianne is Berkut and Rinea’s kid. And my unpopular opinion is that that is a terrible, terrible thing to do to her.

It’s not that I don’t find the idea appealing, because in all honesty, I do. The notion that Berkut and Rinea, or some reinarnations of them, had another chance in Fodlan and fell in love and had a daughter is delightful, and I would love to see it. But let’s not forget that canonically, Marianne’s parents disappeared and are presumed dead, deeply traumatizing her and leaving her terrified of her own Brand and the monster she might become. After what happened with Berkut and Rinea in Valentia, having them meet a fate that scars their daughter so utterly in another land and another life is utterly devastating, so I would much, much rather have her parents be anyone else than see these lives destroyed again and in the process destroy their child’s peace of mind.

What’s one thing I wish would have happened with this character in canon?

Okay so this is maybe a weird one but I wish she could appear in every route even if you don’t recruit her. Because I obsessively collect every student I can recruit in my own runs, I’ve had to do a fairly substantial amount of digging for fic writing purposes, but everywhere I look for non-VW runs...you don’t see Marianne. She doesn’t appear at Gronder in AM, nor does she appear at Myrddin or Derdriu in CF. And while it’s entirely possible that her absence has a benign cause...well, if you’ve read her Supports, there’s a far more likely, far more dire explanation -- and that thought breaks my heart like little else. So I wish she could have appeared somewhere over the course of non-VW routes, just so that we can see she made it through her depression and found something to cling to. Even if it does open up the possibility that she might fall on the battlefield, the idea that she might have fallen outside it where no one could see or know hurts somehow worse.

and of course the diva herself

How do I feel about this character?

Glorious. Stunning. Inspired. Dorothea is a phenomenal character, someone who I endlessly enjoy seeing and talking to through the game. She’s cultivated this perfect image of herself for the monastery to see, but as you get to know her the truth is so heartfelt: while she comes across as just a girl looking to find a husband during her time at Garreg Mach, she came from nothing, enduring abuse during her life on the streets of Enbarr before she was found by chance and brought into the Mittelfrank Opera Company; she’s terrified of going back to that when her looks and her voice no longer pass muster, and she’s looking out for her future with a keen and critical eye, even though she has no real expectations of finding love through it. And this can all come out before the timeskip, no less: afterward it’s...honestly a little heartbreaking, to see how deeply the war has affected her.

While Marianne has found something to fight for and managed to get her depression in check, Dorothea has gone in the opposite direction, seeming to succumb to depression instead. The war has had a dire effect on her mentality, such that she feels it’s stripped her of all but the ability to survive (”only thorns left on this rose,”) and so many of her lines and comments just feel bleak and lost. There aren’t that many characters in 3H who really embody the impact that war can have on people, because so many of the characters are stepping up specifically to fight for what they believe in and holding strong to their resolve for the sake of their loved ones and their homes. Dorothea is the standout example of someone who’s fighting just to make this all stop, because she can’t take it anymore. The war affects her so deeply, in ways that it doesn’t seem to hit other students, and I end up feeling like she more than anyone is at risk in the War Phase because of it.

Her character is just very raw and very powerful in surprising ways and I love her.

Who do I ship this character with romantically?

hhhhhh

it’s Lorenz okay

It’s always been Lorenz and you know what I’m already under the cut so just skip to the next header if you don’t want to read my long rambling explanation of where the fuck this comes from.

So in my first playthrough (Golden Deer forever), I spent...roughly 170 hours getting to the end. This is almost entirely because I played on Normal mode and did an endless number of auxiliary battles grinding supports between all the characters -- and since I did, in fact, go the extra mile of recruiting every single student and professor I could in my first playthrough, I had a lot of characters to work with. (I actually still missed out on some because I didn’t unlock their C’s soon enough -- Marianne with Ashe and Ingrid with Annette didn’t get unlocked until my next run since I knew what to look out for.) This is a big part of how I ended up liking Lorenz in the first place: I worked through all his supports this way, and saw the full measure of him rather than just writing him off after how rough his C supports were mostly across the board.

Out of all his different supports, though, there were three in particular that stood out to me: Leonie, Mercedes, and Dorothea. With Leonie, he learned to relax his strict notions of separation between nobles and commoners and accept the idea of friendship with her as equals. From Mercedes, he got rightly scolded about treating commoners as beneath his notice and unworthy of consideration where marriage was concerned, and rightly corrected when he floated the idea of marrying her since it continues to fall in line with valuing nobility and Crests over personal character. And in Dorothea, he absolutely met his match: not only is she someone who has near-identical motives in her quest for a spouse (not necessarily looking for romance so much as the perks that come with an advantageous marriage), but she’s someone capable of playing him directly, playing his emotions to reveal the folly of his mindset. The way he laughs in their A support...I don’t think he laughs like that anywhere else. It’s open and it’s earnest and it’s joyous, even as he concedes that she has utterly bested him.

And that, really, is what sold me on them. Having grown so much over the course of those years, having met so many people who affected him and broadened his view of the world, when Dorothea bested him at his own game, I think he really did fall for her in truth, rather than just admiring her beauty and her craft. In the end, both of them get everything they wanted and more: Dorothea gets the reassurance that she’ll be taken care of for the rest of her life, Lorenz can boast if he wants about marrying the star diva of the Mittalfrank Opera...but more than that, they’re equally matched as partners, both bringing different strengths to the table to improve conditions in the Alliance for everyone (and especially the commoners), and able to engage in productive back and forth with one another, challenging the other thoughtfully and coming to agreements and compromises on good terms. I love how well-matched they are and how well their personalities play off each other and I think that they could have an incredibly powerful, productive partnership.

...also I totally ship her with Petra too because their supports are fantastic and also Petra is wonderful and deserves the best.

Who is my brOTP for this character?

Ferdinand von Aegir. I love their supports so much and how he goes out of his way to try to understand her perspective, and changes her understanding of him as a person in the process. She understandably has things to work through, given their history and her own misconceptions about him back then, but I love the idea of them banding together as dear friends who do their best to support each other as best they can. Also, Dorothea and Bernie is a delight, and I love the idea of Dorothea keeping in touch and helping to draw Bernie out of her shell bit by tiny bit.

What’s my Unpopular Opinion™ about this character?

Are. Are there popular opinions about Dorothea? I actually don’t see that many character impressions about her: most of what I see is fanart, and it mostly seems to be because she’s pretty. I guess if I had any unpopular opinion, just based on the way I usually see her on my dash, it’s that she’s a whole heck of a lot more than just a pretty face: she’s cutthroat when she needs to be, incredibly capable as a fighter as much as a singer, and would probably make an excellent spy if the situation called for it. I don’t think it’s fair that she’s treated mostly as eye candy when the truth is that her character is so much deeper than shallow beauty, both before and after the timeskip.

What’s one thing I wish would have happened with this character in canon?

This is silly but I wish we could have heard her sing more. The only real song we hear from her if I’m remembering right is in her supports with Edelgard, where she improvises a few lines about the Empress-to-be. And her voice is glorious! I would have loved to hear her sing more, rather than getting so much from Manuela (which was...pretty painful, honestly, I do not care for her singing voice at all). Especially considering how important singing is to her, not just as a former opera diva but just as a part of her life in general, it feels like a shame that we couldn’t hear her sing more throughout the game, either in her Supports or even in the choir sections at the monastery.

Give Me a Character

#answered #fallingfruitfish #meme #fire emblem: three houses #marianne #dorothea #my girls deserve nothing but the best #this got way out of hand though so be warned #and don't feel obligated to read the long sections if you don't want to #i just have no concept of brevity

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watusichris · 3 years

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My Brilliant Career in Chicago Pro Wrestling: A True Story

Damn, I could have sworn I’d posted this 2015 Night Flight story, which remains the funniest thing I’ve ever written. Every word is true. ********** In the early 1970s, before Vince McMahon’s World Wrestling Federation (today World Wrestling Entertainment) turned professional wrestling into a pay-per-view cash cow, pro grappling was a wide-open game run by maverick regional promoters and catering to lunatic fans. I got to experience this incredible world intimately: For two years, I served as “publicist” for the promoter in one of the biggest wrasslin’ towns in the country, Chicago.

I was fresh out of college back in 1972, and returned to my old room in my mother’s apartment in Evanston bearing a seemingly worthless bachelor’s degree in English and no immediate prospects for gainful employment. Fortunately, my father believed in nepotism.

After a long career as a TV executive that had garnered him two Peabody Awards, my dad was then the general manager of WSNS, a Chicago UHF station that broadcast on Channel 44. It was a low-rent operation that my old man helped legitimize by securing telecasts of White Sox games. (He loathed Sox announcer Harry Caray, who would get hammered out of his skull while working in the booth, and rightly thought major league screwball-turned-color man Jimmy Piersall was out of his mind.)

Though such questionable WSNS programming as a daily late-night weathercast delivered by a buxom negligee-clad blonde stretched out on a heart-shaped bed was a thing of the past, colorful holdovers from the old schedule remained. And thus my dad called me one day to say he could get me some part-time work doing PR for Bob Luce, the local pro wrestling promoter, who mounted the weekly show All Star Championship Wrestling on the station.

Naturally, I was hired on the spot at my first meeting with Luce, who was something of a legend in Chicago sports circles at the time. Chicago Sun-Times columnist Bob Greene captured had him perfectly in a famous column in which every sentence ended with an exclamation point.

Stocky, florid of complexion, and as loud as his off-the-rack sport coats, the outsized Luce was the dictionary definition of the word “character.” You’d sit down with him in a restaurant, and the other diners would duck and cover. Constantly agitated and gesticulating wildly, his stentorian conversation was a manic torrent of hype and madness, punctuated by explosive laughter than sounded like a machine gun going off next to your ear.

Fittingly, before joining the wrestling biz, Luce had edited a tabloid, the National Tattler. Like the National Enquirer of that frontier era, the rag made its bones with totally fictitious “news” stories featuring lots of cleavage and outré bloodletting. At one lunch, to the very evident embarrassment of the neighboring clientele, Luce regaled me with the tale of one inspired Tattler cover story, which I will recount Greene-style. Imagine it at full volume: “I got this idea, see, for a story about a sex orgy! [He pronounced “orgy” with a hard “g,” as in “Porgy” of Porgy and Bess.] But it had to be a different kind of orgy! So I got my wife Sharon to take her clothes off and covered her with peanut butter! And we took some pictures, and the lights were HOT, and the peanut butter melted all over her! They were great pictures! We called it – ha ha HA! – ‘PEANUT BUTTER ORGY!’”

Luce had graduated to promoting pro wrestling events in Chicago and other Midwestern markets, in partnership with the American Wrestling Association’s star attractions, Verne Gagne and Dick the Bruiser, of whom more in a moment. (His sweet, funny, but definitely tough wife knew the business: She had wrestled under the name Sharon Lass.)

As the noisy host of All Star Championship Wrestling, Luce would interview the stars of his upcoming promotions, show footage of recent contests, and pump the next matches. Thrusting a finger at the camera in one of his windups, he would shriek, “BE THERE!!!” Ever the sales impresario, he also served as the show’s principal pitchman, appearing in tandem with some of his hulking charges -- and occasionally with special guest hucksters like former heavyweight champ Leon Spinks -- to spiel for a long line of sketchy local advertisers. They are among the greatest and most hilarious commercials ever made.

As Luce’s publicity rep, commanding a monthly paycheck of $200, I was charged with lightweight duty: writing and mailing press releases promoting the bi-weekly Friday night matches at the Chicago International Amphitheatre, assisting the WSNS camera crew at the gigs (sometimes by protecting their extra film magazines from flying bodies at ringside), and calling in the results of the matches to the local papers. (The last task proved to be the most onerous. I’d ring up the local sports desks late on the nights of the matches and harangue some half-drunk, bored assistant editor whose interest in the “sport” could not have been more infinitesimal. When I finally managed to get the Sun-Times to print the results of one match, I felt as if I’d qualified for a Publicists Guild award.) I also performed certain functions for Luce when he was out of town or too busy to handle them. One weekday afternoon I accompanied Superstar Billy Graham, later a big WWF name and a sort of proto-Hulk Hogan, to Wrigley Field, where he was interviewed by nonplussed announcer Jack Brickhouse between innings of a Chicago Cubs radio broadcast.

Every other week for nearly two years, I’d take the El down to the Amphitheatre, located on Halsted Street on the far South Side, adjacent to the old Chicago Stock Yards. (I held onto the job even after I secured a similarly nepotistic but full-time position – writing about cheap component stereo systems for Zenith Radio Corporation.) The antique, immense Amphitheatre had hosted big political conventions, auto shows, circuses, rodeos, and concerts by Elvis Presley, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin, but Luce’s dates at the venue, as you will see, attracted a distinctly different class of customer.

The pre-match staging area, where I’d meet Luce and the crew, was the Sirloin Room of the adjacent Stock Yard Inn, not far from the site of the old South Side cattle slaughterhouses. This is where Luce’s employees and pals would also convene before the night’s entertainment began to swill a couple of cocktails and shoot the breeze. It was a cast worthy of a Damon Runyon story.

Luce employed a bodyguard, a towering ex-Chicago cop named Duke, who had reputedly shot six men before being relieved of duty by the PD. He stood about six-four and dressed exactly like John Shaft. He emanated an aura of extreme menace. Once, when I asked him what he would do if someone actually started any serious trouble, Duke wordlessly pulled back the lapel of his full-length leather coat to reveal a shoulder holster bulging with a .44 Magnum.

The promotion’s bagman, charged with collecting the night’s cash receipts, was a diminutive cat everyone called Bill the Barber. I never knew his last name, but he did in fact run a South Side barbershop. He’d invariably show up dressed in a sport coat that looked like a TV test pattern and a skinny-brim fedora, with watery eyes that sometimes flicked nervously above his pencil-thin mustache. He kept a .38 strapped to his belt.

Many nights, a mysterious character referred to only as “Carmie La Papa” would put in an appearance. This elderly Italian gentleman was always treated with great deference and ate on Luce’s tab. I never found out exactly what he did. But he looked a lot like the mobster played by Pasquale Cajano in Martin Scorsese’s Casino, and I thought it wise not to inquire about his line of work.

There were also bona fide wrestling groupies, well-stacked, slightly haggard old-school broads who draped themselves on the bar, sipping pink ladies. One night, Luce leaned over to me in the Sirloin Room and said, in a whisper that could be heard 20 feet away, “After the matches, these girls and the guys go to a motel up in Prospect Heights, and they have orgies.” (Again, pronounced with a hard “g.”) The most popular of these was reportedly Gloria, a tall, pneumatic redhead of uncertain but rapidly advancing age; Luce confided, “She will do anything.”

The matches themselves were something to behold. I’d usually watch them in the company of WSNS’s young, jaded camera crew, from the dilapidated press box high above the ring in the center of the Amphitheatre. The crowd – thousands of poorly dressed, myopic, malodorous, and steeply inebriated men – was a product of what may be called the pre-ironic era of pro wrestling. There was no such thing as a suspension of disbelief among these spectators. Disbelief did not exist. Though the matches were as closely stage-managed as a production of Richard III, these rubes accepted every feigned punch and bogus drop kick as the McCoy.

Pro wrestling is the eternal contest between virtue and evil, and the wrestlers were identified in equal number as good guys and heels. Most of the good guys on the undercard – there were usually half a dozen matches, with one main event – were young “scientific” wrestlers whose Greco-Roman moves were no match for the brazenly illegal play of the dirty heels, who almost invariably won their bouts with tactics that would not pass muster with an elementary school playground monitor, let alone a legitimate referee. About the only one of these “babyfaces” (or, alternatively, “chumps”) who was vouchsafed an occasional victory was Greg Gagne, son of the promotion’s star attraction and part owner.

By the early ‘70s, Verne Gagne had been wrestling professionally for more than two decades; drafted by the Chicago Bears and then rebelling against team owner George Halas’ prohibition of a sideline on the mat, he had chosen the ring over the gridiron. He was 46 years old when I started working for Luce; he was still in decent shape, and, unlike almost all of his opponents, he still had all of his teeth.

I only managed to spend time with him once. For some reason now lost in the dense fog of time, Luce dispatched me to meet Gagne at the elegant Pump Room of the Drake Hotel near Lake Michigan. There, as cabaret star Dorothy Donegan serenaded us on the piano, the 16-time world heavyweight wrestling champion of the world got me brain-dead drunk, and then poured me into a cab home. He was an excellent guy.

Many of the other good guys on Luce’s undercards were reliable patsies for the baddies. Pepper Gomez, one of the domestic game’s few Mexican stars, was a venerable attraction who was allowed the rare triumph; billed as “the Man with the Cast-Iron Stomach,” he once allowed a Volkswagen Bug to be driven over his gut on Luce’s TV show, where he was a frequent guest.

One of my favorites was Yukon Moose Cholak. Then a veteran of 20 years on the mat, Moose owned a bar not far from the Amphitheatre, but he still worked regularly for his close pal Luce in the AWA. Huge, pot-bellied, and benign, he boasted a ripe Sout’ Side accent rivaled only by Dennis Farina’s. He was hardly an exceptional combatant: He moved around the ring with the fleetness of a dazed sloth. He was a regular on Luce’s show, and often appeared with the host in his TV spots.

The only time I appeared as a guest on All Star Championship Wrestling, Moose was the victim of the on-camera carnage that was a requisite feature of the show. At the time, conflict of interest be damned, I was writing a column about wrestling for a short-lived local sports paper called Fans, and was brought in to lend something like legitimacy to the proceedings. Luce offered me a chair on his threadbare set to push a forthcoming match between Cholak, who appeared on camera next to me, and Handsome Jimmy Valiant, a new heel on the rise in the market.

I figured something ugly was going to happen, but I went about extolling the virtues of Moose’s nearly non-existent mat skills in the front of the camera. Suddenly, Valiant crept up from behind the black scrim behind us and whacked Cholak over the head with a metal folding chair. To this day, I believe my expression of outraged surprise was worthy of a local Emmy, but a nomination eluded me.

I was actually very fond of Valiant, whom I interviewed with his “brother” and tag team partner Luscious John Valiant for Fans. Jimmy was a peroxided, strutting egomaniac in the grand Gorgeous George manner, and he had some classic patter: “I’m da wimmen’s pet and da men’s regret! I got da body wimmen love and men fear! And you, you’re as useful as a screen door in a submarine, daddy!” A rock ‘n’ roll fan, he went on to a very successful solo career, appropriately enough in Memphis, the capital of all things Elvis.

After Gagne the elder, the AWA’s biggest attraction was the tag team of Dick the Bruiser and the Crusher. Bruiser had gotten his competitive start as a linebacker for the Green Bay Packers, but had been a top wrestling draw since 1955. Somewhere along the way, he had been converted from heel to hero, and the Chicago fans adored him. Among the merch sold at the Amphitheatre were Dick the Bruiser Fan Club buttons; measuring six inches in diameter, they could either be pinned on one’s chest or, with the aid of a built-in cardboard stand, be displayed as a plaque. I kept mine on my desk at my straight job to freak out my co-workers.

Early in my gig with Luce, I was taken to meet Bruiser in the locker room. He sat on a table smoking a huge cigar. When I was introduced to him, he exclaimed, “Hey, you’re Ed Morris’ kid? You got more hair than your old man!” My father, who was in fact almost completely bald, had been known to associate with winners of the Nobel and Pulitzer Prizes. I was a little surprised that he ran in Bruiser’s circle.

The Crusher’s career in the squared circle dated back to the late ‘40s. I was even more impressed by him than I was by the Bruiser, for he had been the inspiration of the Novas’ wrasslin’-themed single “The Crusher,” a huge 1965 radio hit in Chicago for the Minnesota garage band the Novas (and later eloquently covered by the Cramps). Bruiser and Crusher were a unique combo: They were “good guys,” but they earned their keep by being badder than the “bad guys” they gutter-stomped.

The villains in that era of pro wrestling were often the object of atavistic xenophobia and hatred. Long before the U.S.’s conflicts in the Middle East, the Sheik (né Ed Farhat in Lansing, Michigan), who took the ring wearing a burnoose, was among the most reviled of heels. Some of the older fans were World War II vets, and they lustily booed Baron von Raschke, who climbed through the ropes with a monocle in one eye, draped in a Nazi flag. He was actually a U.S. Army vet born Jim Raschke in Omaha, Nebraska. His fake German accent was utterly feeble.

The AWA’s all-purpose villain, who would go on to bigger things as one of McMahon’s first WWF stars, was “Pretty Boy” Bobby Heenan, dubbed “the Weasel” by the Bruiser. Heenan was featured in his own matches, but he was most reliably entertaining as a manager, of the most duplicitous and cowardly variety, in another villain’s corner. You didn’t need a script to know what was going to happen: Just as it looked like the good guy was going to triumph, Heenan would leap into the ring and smash the apparent victor’s head into a turnbuckle or hit him over the skull with a water bucket.

Heenan featured in the most outrageous story I heard during my brilliant career in wrestling. One night I was sitting with the film crew when Al Lerner, the mustachioed, shaggy-haired, bespectacled WSNS sports reporter, entered the press box with a portable tape machine on his shoulder and a stunned look on his face. “I’ve interviewed people in front of burning buildings,” Al said. “I’ve interviewed people as they were jumping out of airplanes. But I’ve never interviewed anyone while they were getting a blowjob.”

It seems that while Al was in the locker room recording some audio bites from Heenan, a voluptuous girl standing nearby walked over to the wrestler, kneeled down in front of him, pulled down his trunks, and began giving him the kind of pre-match service Mickey Rourke probably dreamed of but never received. As she went about her business, Heenan continued to spout invective to Al as if nothing extraordinary was transpiring. With that moment alone, Bobby Heenan earned his place in the Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame.

I visited Heenan in the locker room on a somewhat less eventful evening, but that night I learned the secret of many pros’ mat success. As I was talking to him, I noticed that his forehead was crosshatched with tiny scars, some of them new and still livid. I later mentioned this to one of the crew, and was told that these wounds – referred to as “juicing” -- were actually self-inflicted, so that the wrestlers could easily draw blood during critical moments of violence in their matches.

As Heenan said in a later interview, “If you want the green, you gotta bring the red.” Gore was a staple of pro wrestling, and there was nothing like sitting in an arena filled with 10,000 or 15,000 crazed spectators and hearing a drunken chant go up as a good guy pummeled a heel to the mat: “WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD!”

My last hurrah in pro wrestling was one of Luce’s rare alfresco promotions, a multi-bout 1974 card at old Comiskey Park, the White Sox’s stadium, which climaxed with a 16-man battle royal. I don’t remember who triumphed in the main event, but I do remember that someone on the crew brought a bat and some softballs along, and we ended the evening shagging fly balls under the lights where Nellie Fox and Luis Aparicio once played.

The outlaw era of regional pro wrestling is a dim memory for most. The racket would get wilder after I left it: In an interview with Nashville wrestling figure Jimmy Cornette, Heenan said that a fan at a 1975 Amphitheatre match pulled out a pistol and began firing at him, but the shooter only managed to wound four people in the rows in front of him.

McMahon’s WWF brought the regional promoters’ day to a close, pillaging most of the big names in the game in the process. Today, the WWE has been displaced in popularity by the even gaudier UFC contests. Most of the stars I met – including Bruiser, Crusher, and Cholak – are dead now. Heenan, a throat cancer survivor, has been in poor health for more than a decade. Verne Gagne died this April; in 2009, suffering from dementia, he accidentally killed a 97-year-old fellow resident in a Minnesota assisted living facility. Even the old stomping grounds are gone: The Chicago Amphitheatre was razed in 1999.

Bob Luce passed away in 2007, but his wild-ass legacy may live on via an unlikely champion. There are many analogs between pro wrestling and rock ‘n’ roll, and this April, mat mega-fan Billy Corgan of Smashing Pumpkins announced on Twitter that he had bought Luce’s memorabilia and an archive of 9,000 vintage wrestling photos. Maybe he and former Hüsker Dü front man Bob Mould, a fellow wrasslin’ aficionado who once worked for McMahon as a writer, can make something of it. That would rock.

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lunarianborn · 3 years

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☾ @roseofbaron : For the ask anything meme: Please tell me more about Cecil’s stuffed rabbit! :3 Who did he get it from? What did he name it? What happened to it when he grew older? Did he have it long enough to pass it on to Ceodore (if he would even want to)? It’s the most adorable tiny fact and I can’t stop thinking about it lol ☽ CURIOUS ASKS : always accepting

Cecil’s little bunny toy ! What a nice ask, I shall indulge in these headcanons a lot now that I have the chance to explore them eheh ! For anyone who isn’t aware, the DS release of FFIV came with new official art - in a very cute style too. One of them has a young looking Cecil ( I say young because his hair is shorter, and he even sports two little braids ) sitting on his bed, in the West Tower, looking with sad eyes at the helmet of the Dark Knight in his hands. On his pillow, there’s a little stuffed rabbit toy - here is a link.

There is no further mention or picture of said bunny, both in the game or in the novels. So it’s all an headcanon of mine -- but I’ve always imagined it being a memento from his childhood. Cecil first came to Baron owning nothing - and the circumstances of his finding are quite traumatic and sad themselves, so I don’t think it belonged to his brother, or parents even. It was a gift, given to him when he obviously couldn’t notice, nor remember it.

So, Baron had most likely been ruled by the current King Odin for a while now. He knew of Cecilia, who must have died at around 30 years of age ( or so I imagine, considering the age difference between Cecil and Theodor is of about 9 or 10 years and that she still looks pretty young at the time of her demise ) - which makes the King himself close to her same age. We can imagine him being the next in line of succession, rising to power when still quite young. Still, the King never had a queen, and back when Cecil was found, he had no legitimate heirs; common folks in Baron do chat about it even in game - rightly so, lamenting of how the King never married nor sired children in order to, one day, name a rightful heir to the throne. No matter how silly it may sound, it surely did translate therefore in a lack of children living the castle -- till Cecil came around, of course. Kain is just a year older than Cecil, and it can be argued that his father, as Captain of the Dragoons, did maybe reside into the castle of Baron and not in the city proper -- his baby and wife with him. But Kain had, at least at first, a family, wealth and the prestige coming from the important name of the Highwind’s ( not to mention a dragon his father would ride in battle, how cool is that ? ) , and it’s still not certain whether he actually lived inside the castle or not. Cecil didn’t have any of that, and all that’s certain is the fact Kain did hang around the castle as a child.

Anyway, as a result, the odd-looking baby found in the far-away woods and taken to Baron, under the King’s wing and patronage, did gave rise to waves upon waves of curiosity among the servants of the castle. Welcomed as the youngest ward of His Majesty, he was attended and cared for by numerous women, men, servants and mage -- who knows, perhaps the royal nurses did finally rejoice in the presence a newborn inside the castle, haha. He was given, most certainly, all that might have suited a little prince indeed -- attention, care, plenty of food and toys. A brighter future, no doubts. A young chambermaid charged with keeping a close eye on the infant at night, did crochet Cecil that very stuffed bunny. It is nothing fancy: it is stuffed in straw and wool, with two small buttons serving as its dark eyes and felt soft to the touch. She absentmindedly placed inside his cradle and there it remained till he was old enough to grasp things to play with.

He never named it, but it became a huge comfort once a toddler, and accompanied him on his nightly way to slumber as a child, too. While Cecil did prefer to play with other toys, small airships Cid would gift to him and wooden swords, he never thought of giving or storing the bunny away either. At times, a young Kain would reach him in his room to play and snatch away the rabbit from its rightful place and owner to mess with him in a playful, childish way -- which did bother Cecil a bit, at first. The rabbit could have become a poor damsel in distress to rescue, or the white-scaled dragon to slay in Kain’s and Rosa’s company, in their games of play-pretend; but Cecil would have made always sure, by the end of their games, that the toy was perfectly sane and undamaged. It was a senseless attachment, for something so meaninglessly simple, but it persisted for a while - despite being told it held no significance to the circumstances of his finding as a newborn ( and we know for certain Cecil knew from a very young age that he was a foundling ).

When the age fit to play with toys and stuffed rabbits was long gone, unfortunately, and Cecil began attending school and the military academy inside the castle, the toy simply became a silent presence in his room. While he wouldn’t sleep with it anymore, the maidservants in charge of the tower and of his bedchamber always made sure to keep the rabbit on top of his pillow, on fresh and clean sheets for him to sleep upon. There were nights when, too tired to do anything else but fall asleep at the very first touch of the pillow against his head, Cecil wouldn’t even moved away the rabbit from the spot, to just doze off immediately. At the age of 15, shortly after being appointed a Dark Knight, he saw fit of storing all his toys and props inside a chest by the bed -- thus, in a way, finally partying from his childhood days and appealing to the meagre and ‘dark’ lifestyle of such knights. And the bunny remained in said chest for the following, almost forgotten, for the following five of six years...

Considering he became a father rather early ( although, in Final Fantasy standards and more generally, in a medieval setting, it is not that early ) , I like to think he recalled of his old stuffed bunny and ‘passed it down’ to Ceodore - or perhaps it was fished out of the chest by Rosa, it’d be cute to think about it. Although old, it might have been with his son for a while, when still very young -- but given Ceodore’s temperament being quite more playful and adorably lively than what Cecil used to be as a baby, the bunny held his interest for a very brief lapse of time, overall.

Naturally, on symbolism, the bunny gets a deeper meaning. In Asian culture, the myth of the bunny on the moon is a well-known one. An otter, a monkey, a fox and a rabbit decided to help poor people, and once met a old traveler dying of hunger; wanting to save him, they all thought of a way to bring him food: the otter could fish easily, the fox could steal and the monkey was smart enough to bring him fruits -- but the bunny had no particular skills, and all it could fetch him was some grass. Sad and deluded, the bunny then jumped into a fire to donate himself to the hungry man; the traveler felt pity at the selfless sacrifice and revealed himself to be a god, saving the rabbit whose silhouette now stains the moon forevermore. The legend treats themes of self sacrifice, long-life and charity -- which aren’t stranger themes to Cecil. Plus, on a lighter note, Japan celebrates the moon on a specific day each year mid-fall, with stories of the moon rabbit pounding mochi and bunny-shaped sweets. Namingway and his brothers do live on the moon, in-game, and they do resemble white bunnies -- a wink of the eye to that legend and folklore.

It is a clear reference to the fact Cecil descends from a Lunarian man, his destiny laid bare before him from the very start, when he still had no clue of his origins or of people living on the second moon. Bahamut resides on the moon too, and I did read somewhere that it did imply either a form of worship for the Eidolon, or a descendance too -- so the Father of the Dragons could also serve as a symbol; but we have to admit bunnies are just cuter eheh !

#[ ive been INDULGED ]#▐┊ headcanon.#roseofbaron #▐┊ meta.#[ on this matter... cecil being born around mid autumn has become canon here ah ]#[ thanks to the Moon Rabbit legends ahah ]#[ although i guess they celebrate namedays more than bdays ]#[ baron didn't have airships back then... so odin reached the region by sea ]#[ it might have taken a bit considering the devils road was shut BUT !! ]#[ the pic has the cutest bed ;_; and the cutest window ]#[ where he could watch the moon each night ;___; ]#[ it kinda speaks of how young he was when appointed dark knight... ]#[ also the circlet on his forehead OK i ll stopHHH i sure wrote a lot hhh ]#[ but ty i loved this ask you know how to make me have FeelsTM ]#[ was the maid who made the rabbit a namingway in disguise watching over a lunarian's song on gaia?? ]#[ like shinryu son of bahamut does with golbez??? more at 8 ! ]

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route22ny · 4 years

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This is a harrowing read, and in the end you may ask yourself, as I asked myself: how was the nation not protected from such criminality? Decades of organized crime involvement culminated in the most corrupt and dangerous president in American history, one who now presides over a reeling nation in the throes of a deadly pandemic.

We watch in horror and disbelief, daily, as he ineptly--or maliciously--mismanages the nation’s response to covid-19, contributing to a death toll expected to surpass that of the Vietnam War...twice. How did we get here?

This is must reading.

***

IN THE EARLY 1980s it was decided—by whom, and for what ultimate purpose, we can’t say for sure—that Donald John Trump would build a casino complex in Atlantic City, New Jersey—probably the most mobbed-up municipality in the state. Dealing with the mafia might have dissuaded some developers from pursuing a Boardwalk Empire, but not Trump. He was uniquely suited to forge ahead.

Donald’s father, the Queens real estate developer Fred Trump, had worked closely with Genovese-associated and -owned construction entities since building the Shore Haven development in 1947, when Donald was still in diapers (the first time around). Fred was an early mob adopter, the underworld equivalent of an investor who bought shares of Coca-Cola stock in 1919. The timelines is important to remember here. Organized crime did not exist in any meaningful way in the United States until Prohibition. Born in 1905, Fred Trump was just two years younger than Meyer Lansky, the gangster who more or less invented money laundering. Thus, Donald Trump is second generation mobbed-up.

When Donald first ventured from Queens to the pizzazzier borough of Manhattan in the seventies, he entered into a joint business deal with “Big” Paul Castellano, head of the Gambino syndicate, and Anthony “Fat Tony” Salerno, of the Genovese family he knew well through his father and their mutual lawyer Roy Cohn. As part of this arrangement, Trump agreed to buy concrete from a company operated jointly by the two families—and pay a hefty premium for the privilege. Only then, with double mob approval, could he move forward with the Trump Tower and Trump Plaza projects. (Among Cohn’s other clients at the time was Rupert Murdoch, whom he introduced to Trump in the seventies; you would be hard pressed to find three more atrocious human beings).

Atlantic City is in South Jersey, closer to Philadelphia than New York, so to build “his” casino, Trump needed to play ball with the Philly mob. That meant dealing with Nicodemo “Little Nicky” Scarfo, head of the most powerful mob family in Philadelphia. Land that Trump needed for his casino was owned by Salvie Testa and Frank Narducci, Jr.—hit men for Scarfo, collectively known around town as the Young Executioners (the nickname was not ironic). To help negotiate the deal, Trump hired Patrick McGahn, a Philly-based attorney known to have truck with the Scarfo family.

(The last name should sound familiar; Don McGahn, the former White House Counsel, is Patrick McGahn’s nephew. And Don McGahn is not the only Trump Administration hire with ties to the Philly mob. Among Little Nicky’s associates was one Jimmy “The Brute” DiNatale, whose daughter, Denise Fitzpatrick, is the mother of none other than Kellyanne Conway. A number of wiseguys paid their respects at DiNatale’s 1983 funeral. I don’t want to make the mistake of condemning Conway or Don McGahn for the sins of their relations. But given Trump’s OC background, it’s fair to question why he chose two children of mobbed-up families for his inner White House circle.)

Trump acquired the needed Atlantic City property at twice the market value: $1.1 million for a lot that sold for $195k five years before. But there were legal pratfalls, shady dealings, chicanery with the documents. The New Jersey Gaming Commission was investigating the matter, because casino owners could not, by law, associate with criminals. And most of Trump’s friends were crooks. It looked like Trump was in trouble—not only of losing his gaming license, but of criminal indictment.

And then, something miraculous happened. On 4 November 1986, Scarfo and eleven of his associates were indicted on charges that included loan sharking, extortion and conducting an illegal gambling business in a racketeering conspiracy. Prosecutors had tried for years to take down Little Nicky. And now, after all that time, they finally had their evidence. Not only that, but the investigation into Trump? It went away. Poof—as if it never existed.

A confidential informant, or “CI,” is a mole run by law enforcement within a criminal enterprise. Not a “rat,” whose treachery is well known to his comrades, but a craftier, more duplicitous breed of rodent. Crimes committed by the CI are overlooked, or allowed to continue unabated, in exchange for good intelligence—“treasure,” as Control calls it in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.

A fictional example of a CI is the Greek, a character on the show The Wire (spoiler ahead). Baltimore law enforcement piece together that the Greek is the head of a crime syndicate that deals in narcotics and human trafficking. But when they finally move to arrest him, the operation is kibboshed by the feds, for whom the Greek is a Confidential Informant. This is extremely frustrating for viewers of the show, who rightly regard the Greek as the cause of so much woe in West Baltimore.

In real life, there are two famous examples. The first is Whitey Bulger, the head of the so-called Winter Hill Gang, which operated for decades in Somerville, Massachusetts. In 1975, Bulger became a Confidential Informant for the FBI, handled by a corrupt agent named John Connolly. His intelligence helped take down a rival mob family in Providence, Rhode Island—a city notorious for the influence of organized crime. In exchange, Connolly allowed Bulger and his associates to operate with impunity. At least 19 people were killed by the Winter Hill Gang while the feds looked the other way. When the FBI finally realized its mistake, Connolly tipped off Bulger, who went on the lam for 16 years. He was finally arrested in 2011; by then he was in his eighties. He was killed in prison seven years later.

The second famous CI is Donald Trump’s former associate Felix Sater. Racketeering charges against him back in 1998 ended with a fine of just $25,000—a slap on the wrist. From then on, Sater become a top echelon confidential informant, feeding law enforcement intelligence of “a depth and breadth rarely seen,” as court filings show. “His cooperation has covered a stunning array of subject matter, ranging from sophisticated local and international criminal activity to matters involving the world’s most dangerous terrorists and rogue states.”

The winsome ex-con, still one of the more puzzling figures of Trump/Russia, “continuously worked with prosecutors and law enforcement agents to provide information crucial to the conviction of over 20 different individuals, including those responsible for committing massive financial fraud, members of La Cosa Nostra organized crime families and international cyber-criminals,” prosecutors claim. “Additionally, Sater provided the United States intelligence community with highly sensitive information in an effort to help the government combat terrorists and rogue states.”

His intelligence helped prosecutors break up the “Pump and Dump” and “Boiler Room” mob operations in the 1990s. He turned over useful information about the Genovese crime family (note: the same family Fred Trump fronted for), and provided ample dirt on international arms dealing (note: Jeffrey Epstein’s specialty). And his crowning achievement: he helped the United States track down Osama bin Laden (funny how the Russian mob knew where he was). Sater is proud of his CI work, and has talked it up the last few years, probably to counter his association with the mafiya, and with Trump.

We know about Bulger being a CI because his handler turned out to be crooked. We know about Sater being a CI because he outed himself prior to his sentencing in 2009—and because he keeps boasting about it. If Sater had not come forward, Loretta Lynch, the former Attorney General, would not have been legally permitted to reveal his status.

That’s the thing about Confidential Informants: they are confidential. The informant doesn’t want to be made as a mole, any more than law enforcement wants to burn a source. Both sides are bound to secrecy. It is the good guy version of omertà.

The only way to know for sure if Donald John Trump is a Confidential Informant is if he admits it himself (unlikely), or if law enforcement comes forward (illegal). But the circumstantial evidence is compelling. The pattern is: 1) Trump deals with mobsters as usual; 2) Law enforcement begins investigating Trump; 3) Mobsters suddenly get busted, while 4) investigation into Trump is scuttled. This happened three times that we know about. I’m not counting the first known instance of Trump providing information to prosecutors, concerning Cody and concrete, in the late 70s:

I can conceive of no scenario in which Trump was not a CI, and a top echelon one at that. He’s avoided indictment too many times. No one is that lucky.

Or, put another way: How can someone that lucky manage to run a fucking casino into the ground?

Salvatore Gravano, known as “Sammy the Bull,” was an underboss of the Gambino crime family. After the assassination of “Big” Paul Castellano in 1985—an audacious hit, done in broad daylight—John Gotti was installed as the figurehead capo. But in practice, the Bull was the one calling the shots. His territory? Manhattan. For as long as he was in power, any construction that took place in New York, New York had to be approved by Gravano. “I literally controlled Manhattan,” he told ABC News. He did a lot of business deals with Donald John Trump, and speaks of him fondly.

After his arrest on 11 December 1990, Gravano turned state’s evidence to help put away Gotti, his nominal boss. The lead prosecutor of the case? Robert Swan Mueller III. (This is why, when Trump found out Mueller was named Special Counsel, he collapsed into a chair and muttered, “I’m fucked.”)

We know that Gravano flipped on Gotti. But who flipped on Sammy the Bull?

On 19 July 1990, the Division of Gaming Enforcement (DGE) of the State of New Jersey opened an investigation into Donald John Trump, regarding the Trump Organization’s business dealings with Joseph Weichselbaum, a mob associate and embezzler who had been convicted not once, not twice, but three times. Trump hired Weichselbaum’s company to provide helicopter transportation to Atlantic City, conveying high rollers to and from New York. As a casino owner, Trump was prohibited by law to do any business with the serial felon. He not only continued to do so, but he went to bat for the guy, going so far as to write him a letter of recommendation. (There’s more bizarre stuff with Wiechselbaum, whose case wound up being initially tried by Trump’s sister, a federal judge, but I won’t get into it here).

Six months after the DGE opened its investigation, Gravano got pinched. And once again, as if by the wave of a magic wand, Trump’s legal troubles seemed to vanish.

It’s worth noting here that Sammy the Bull likes Trump personally, then and now, and seems not to blame him for ratting him out. There were likely others who informed on Gravano, too. But given the timing, the investigation against Trump, his disastrous finances at the time, and his long familiarity with federal prosecutors, it stands to reason that Trump, too, turned on his longtime business associate.

The Kurt & Courtney decade was unkind to Donald John Trump. The Bush I recession hit his businesses hard. Trump filed for bankruptcy protection for Trump Taj Mahal (1991) and Trump Plaza (1992). Again: our “lucky” guy had managed to go bust in the casino business. In between those bankruptcy filings, he lobbied Congress for tax relief for real estate developers, began phoning reporters claiming to be a publicist named John Barron, had an affair with a D-list actress named Marla Maples, and divorced his wife of 14 years, the mother of his kids Donald, Ivanka, and Eric: the former Ivana Zelníčková. (Sidenote: Ivana Trump’s father was a big wheel in Czechoslovakia’s Státní bezpečnost intelligence service; Miloš Zelníček helped raise his grandchildren, especially Don Jr., who speaks fluent Czech…but this is a subject for another dispatch).

Things were going south fast. Trump desperately needed a lifeline. He found one in Moscow.

The Soviet Union collapsed on Christmas Day 1991. What the West viewed as the triumph of capitalism over communism was really the subversion of a conventional superpower by the shadowy forces of transnational crime. The Cold War was not over; it just shifted modes of attack. In the early 90s, Russia invaded the United States—not with soldiers, but with mobsters.

The commander of this underworld incursion was a violent ex-con named Vyacheslav Ivankov, known as “Yaopnchik,” or “Little Japanese.” Hardened in the brutal Soviet prison system, Ivankov was a member of the vor y zakone, or thieves-in-law—the arm of the Russian mafiya that originated in the post-Second World War gulags. He was such a nasty, violent motherfucker that when it was necessary to rough someone up to extort them, he didn’t send in a subordinate—he did the job himself.

Ivankov arrived to the United States in 1992, ostensibly to work in the film industry. Even the new Russian government warned the FBI that he was up to no good. The feds lost sight of him almost immediately, even as he traveled from New York to Florida and everywhere in between, consolidating power, and displacing the Italian mob. (That brazen 1985 hit on “Big” Paul Castellano was instrumental in achieving this Vor hegemony, as the Gambino boss neither liked nor trusted the Russians). Per the testimony of Bob Levinson, the FBI’s foremost Russian mob expert:

Ivankov’s organization’s income was derived from a number of sources: his group was implicated by sources to have been involved in the “gasoline tax scam” whereby so-called “daisy-chains” of petroleum handling companies were established with the specific intention of defrauding governmental tax authorities using non-existent or ghost companies to pay the gasoline taxes due.

A primary source of the group’s funds was the collection of “krisha” or protection money from wealthy Russian and Eurasian businessmen operating between North America and the former Soviet republics. In addition, the Ivankov organization organized the collection of, in effect, a “street tax” from Russian-born and Eastern European criminals who were operating their illegal enterprises in North America. Ivankov organization members fanned out across the United States and Canada identifying and then approaching these criminals saying that each now had to contribute to an “obshak” (mutual benefit fund) being collected and organized by the Ivankov group.

In addition, Ivankov and other members of his organization settled business disputes for Russian and Eastern European businessmen operating between North America and the former Soviet Union, receiving in return a percentage of the amount in dispute, usually hundreds of thousands of dollars. Through his authority as a “thief-inlaw” and the head of a criminal organization, Ivankov was able to exercise a kind of informal power in the émigré business community tantamount to decisions made by formal, official courts of law. Those who went against the decisions made by Ivankov and his associates were usually met with violence, including beatings and/or murder.

As Little Japanese worked the States, Semion Mogilevich, the current head of the Russian mob, set up his base of operations in Budapest, Hungary, where he moved in 1992 with his Hungarian girlfriend. “The Brainy Don,” as he is called, soon acquired a bank in Russia, which allowed him access to the global financial system. Meyer Lanksy may have invented money laundering, but it was Mogilevich who took it to Hollywood, so to speak: Lansky wrote the book, and the Brainy Don made it into an international blockbuster. (Note: Levinson, the FBI agent, moved to Budapest around this time, to investigate Mogilevich more closely.)

For three fruitful years, Ivankov did his thing, laying the foundation for what would become the world’s pre-eminent organized crime operation—more S.P.E.C.T.R.E. than GoodFellas. He ran amok. Law enforcement had no idea where he was….until, one day in 1995, they found him living in a deluxe apartment at—you’re not gonna believe it—Trump Tower. And that was not the only Trump property he frequented: Ivankov was also a regular at the Trump Taj Mahal in Atlantic City. He was arrested in June of 1995, convicted, imprisoned, and deported to Russia in 2004 to face murder changes. Once home, he was promptly acquitted. He was gunned down in Moscow in 2009.

This monster was living in Trump’s building, gambling in Trump’s casino.

What was Donald John Trump doing in 1995? Failing tremendously. That was the year when he declared a loss of an unfathomable $916 million on his tax returns. It was also at this time that Trump Tower became a sort of Moscow on Fifth Avenue, with any number of Russian mobsters scooping up apartments—an arrangement that began in 1984, when the Russian mobster David Bogatin purchased five condos for $6 million. Trump Tower was one of just two buildings in all of New York City that allowed units to be purchased by shell companies. Why did Trump, virtually alone among New Yorkers, allow these fishy deals?

As the indefatigable Craig Unger writes in the Washington Post,

the shady Bogatin deal began a 35-year relationship between Trump and Russian organized crime. Mind you, this was a period during which the disintegration of the Soviet Union had opened a fire-hose-like torrent of hundreds of billions of dollars in flight capital from oligarchs, wealthy apparatchiks and mobsters in Russia and its satellites. And who better to launder so much money for the Russians than Trump — selling them multimillion-dollar condos at top dollar, with little or no apparent scrutiny of who was buying them.

Over the next three decades, dozens of lawyers, accountants, real estate agents, mortgage brokers and other white-collar professionals came together to facilitate such transactions on a massive scale. According to a BuzzFeed investigation, more than 1,300 condos, one-fifth of all Trump-branded condos sold in the United States since the 1980s, were shifted “in secretive, all-cash transactions that enable buyers to avoid legal scrutiny by shielding their finances and identities.”

Unger continues:

The Trump Organization has dismissed money laundering charges as unsubstantiated, and because it is so difficult to penetrate the shell companies that purchased these condos, it is almost impossible for reporters — or, for that matter, anyone without subpoena power — to determine how much money laundering by Russians went through Trump-branded properties. But Anders Aslund, a Swedish economist, put it this way to me: “Early on, Trump came to the conclusion that it is better to do business with crooks than with honest people. Crooks have two big advantages. First, they’re prepared to pay more money than honest people. And second, they will always lose if you sue them because they are known to be crooks.”

It is simply inconceivable that a creature of the underworld, a man who had extensive dealings with mob figures for his entire career, would, in a moment of dire need, be unaware that mobsters were buying his properties, using shell companies to conceal the origin of the dirty rubles.

It is also inconceivable that a mobbed-up real estate developer—a crook whom the government of Australia would not grant a gaming license because of his obvious mob connections; the subject of a 41-page initial investigation by the Department of Gaming Enforcement in the State of New Jersey that, taken together, is positively damning—could have avoided indictment for all these years unless he was covertly helping out law enforcement. Trump is a criminal, yes, but his crimes are not as heinous as Ivankov’s, or Gravano’s, or Scarfo’s. Prosecutors would happily toss a minnow like Trump back into the sea if it helped them catch the big fish.

Nothing about Trump’s term as president suggests he’s turned his back on organized crime. He hasn’t “gone legit.” His Twitter antagonists comprise a “Who’s Who” of the FBI’s Russian mob experts: Robert Mueller, Andrew McCabe, Bruce Ohr, Lisa Page. He has attacked the credibility of those who know what he really is. That is what made Trump’s attacks on Mueller so ironic. He impugned the former FBI director as corrupt, while depending on his incorruptibility to not reveal his (alleged) CI status.

To reiterate: we cannot know for sure if Trump was a CI unless he admits to being one (maybe Yamiche Alcindor can goad him into admitting it?), or if the federal prosecutors in the know break protocol to expose him.

As it stands, prominent G-men have given us clues. When McCabe was fired, he began his statement thus: “I have been an FBI Special Agent for over 21 years. I spent half of that time investigating Russian Organized Crime as a street agent and Supervisor in New York City.” The subtext there is that McCabe knows who Trump is.

In the excerpt of his book Higher Loyalty sent to the press, James Comey compared Trump to Gravano. “The [loyalty] demand was like Sammy the Bull’s Cosa Nostra induction ceremony—with Trump in the role of the family boss asking me if I have what it takes to be a ‘made man.’ ” Of all the famous mafiosos, why did Comey choose Gravano, a relatively obscure figure, as the comp? He wants us to dig into Gravano.

(Gravano himself was asked about the Comey pull-quote by Jerry Capeci of Gangland News; he said, “The country doesn’t need a bookworm as president, it needs a mob boss. You don’t need a Harvard graduate to deal with these people…[Putin, Kim, Xi] are real gangsters. You need a fucking gangster to deal with these people.” This seems to indicate that Sammy the Bull thinks Trump is a “mob boss” and a “fucking gangster.” Takes one to know one?)

Unless he thought it would help him avoid prison, Trump will never cop to being a Confidential Informant. We can only infer that he served that function by presenting the circumstantial evidence to support the hypothesis. But plenty of people can confirm or deny (rather than refuse to confirm or deny) Trump’s involvement. Bob Mueller, certainly, but every prosecutor too that dealt with Scarfo, Gravano, and Ivankov, and plenty of smaller cases besides.

When a Confidential Informant is deliberately fucking up the federal government’s response to a pandemic—when his willful negligence will cost hundreds of thousands if not millions of American lives—protocol must be sacrificed for the greater good. Is not the purpose of that law, of all laws, to protect the people from enemies foreign and domestic? And has not the COVID-19 response, or lack thereof, proven Trump to be an active enemy of the United States?

We don’t need more careful legalese. We don’t need more cryptic phrasings along the lines of “If we had had confidence that the president clearly did not commit a crime, we would have said so.” We need to hear, loud and clear, what the FBI knows. We need to be told, unequivocally, that Trump is an inveterate crook—a real crook; an actual criminal; not just a cute Twitter assertion—and, even more surprising, and contrary to all recent evidence, that he is capable of telling the truth when it serves him.

Notes:

This piece was written under the expert guidance of Lincoln’s Bible. If you don’t already do so, please follow her on Twitter, and check out her own mafiya reporting at Citjourno.

I encourage everyone to read the State of New Jersey Department of Gaming Enforcement investigation report on the allegations against Donald John Trump in the Wayne Barrett book Trump: The Deals and the Downfall.

The late Bob Levinson was the FBI’s best Russian mob fighter. His Ivankov testimony is also essential reading.

The photo at the top is the Greek, from The Wire—the best show in the history of television.

https://gregolear.substack.com/p/tinker-tailor-mobster-trump

#organized crime #long reads #trump #america is broken #greg olear

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stevishabitat · 4 years

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“These are the perils of working from home,” mutters David Tennant, typing into his phone, filmed by his computer and watched, bemusedly, by me.

The 49-year-old actor has been texting, intermittently and apologetically, throughout our Zoom call. One of his five children (aged 18, nine, seven, four and eight months) has returned to school, and it seems pickup arrangements have been miscommunicated.

Tennant’s correspondent – I assume it is his wife, Georgia – is messaging from inside the house; Tennant is in the garden, his long lockdown locks pushed back into a Beckham-style headband. Over yonder, he gestures off-camera, a homeschooling lesson is under way: “I came outside to avoid the maths.”

Yet Tennant seems to have embraced the realities of home life, with two BBC projects drawing on his experience of raising a family. In the meta, of-the-moment series Staged, he and Georgia play versions of themselves in lockdown in their Chiswick home, while There She Goes (which returns for a second series tomorrow) captures an oft-unspoken truth about parenting, says Tennant: that “it’s sort of a slog”.

Coupled with doing interviews from his garden – Tennant tips his camera to show me Myrtle the cockapoo, flopped at his feet – it offers a surprising glimpse into the family life of an actor who has previously been reluctant to reveal any of it.

“We’re not quite as squeamish as we were,” he agrees, not least because his eldest son, Ty, is now also an actor. “I don’t think we’ll ever be sharing pictures of our children in Hello! magazine, but I think a lot of that comes from an insecurity about being uncovered or invaded. The longer you’re together, the less that feels like a threat.”

Tennant met Georgia (then Moffett) in 2008 on the set of Doctor Who – her father is a former Doctor, Pete Davison. “As our relationship was born out of people trying to stick lenses through windows, it’s taken us a long time to slough off that residual nervousness about sharing anything.”

These days, their guard is low enough for Georgia to post on Instagram a shot of herself breastfeeding – and to rail against Mark Zuckerberg when the image was removed by Facebook for breaching community standards (“I’ll come round there and squirt you in the eye”).

But, Tennant adds: “It’s still important to us that the characters in Staged are not us,” “David” being “more pathetic” than Tennant and “Georgia” more indulgent of him. “We’re not telling the actual story of our private life.”

There She Goes, however, he praises as scrupulously honest. The comedy stars Tennant and Jessica Hynes as parents of a child with a severe learning disability, based on the experience of the writers Shaun Pye and Sarah Crawford with their daughter, who was born with an extremely rare (and still undiagnosed) chromosomal disorder.

Tennant plays Simon, the character Pye based on himself: a loving but somewhat hapless father, always out to foist young Rosie on to his wife so he can head down the pub. Tennant says he tried to catch Pye out on set: “I’d go: ‘This bit we’re doing today – that didn’t really happen, did it?’ And everything is true.”

The first series was widely praised for refusing to sugarcoat the realities of parenting and marriage, while still finding moments of sweetness. Hynes won a Bafta for her turn as Emily, Rosie’s harried but devoted mum who, in a low moment, admits to struggling to love her newborn.

Simon, meanwhile, leans on booze and dark humour. There She Goes can be an undeniably uncomfortable watch. But the dual narratives of each episode – switching between a challenging but joyful time for the family and a more desperate early one – provide relief and perspective.

Tennant considers the series a mainstream comedy. Yet there had been trepidation within the BBC about how it would be received, he says, “because it lacked a certain sentimentality and political correctness – there was a real fear”. He disdainfully recalls a journalist at the press launch playing devil’s advocate, warning of a coming “shitstorm”: “He said: ‘You are going to be destroyed for putting this on television.’ We all hoped he was wrong – but we feared that he might be right.” And this was after the huge critical success of the police drama Broadchurch, which might easily have convinced Tennant he could do no wrong.

The casting of a non-disabled actor as nine-year-old Rosie – who is non-verbal, with the mental age of a toddler – was one sensitivity, says Tennant. The possibility of casting an actor with a learning disability had been explored, he says, “because, of course, that’s a live issue and one that has to be rightly unpicked”. But the demands of the role were found to be too great for a young actor with a disability. “Anyone who appreciates the kind of challenges that a child like Rosie would have doesn’t doubt that it would not really have been possible.”

Miley Locke, who is now 11, was “an incredible find”, says Tennant, praising her as nimble and uninhibited in a challenging role. Locke has met Jo, on whom Rosie is based, and has “an incredible capacity to find the truth of that character”, he says. “She’s also very game – I’m endlessly having to pick her up and fling her about and yank her around …”

Any parent will identify with “that constant sense that you’re falling short”, he says – now, perhaps, more than ever. A scene in which Emily tries desperately to work in the face of Rosie’s demands has taken on new relevance during lockdown. “Well, quite,” says Tennant, while texting in response to the latest news from Georgia. “Erm. Sorry …”

A big part of the challenge of shooting Staged was finding moments when the children were “either asleep or quiet”, but Tennant counts himself as “phenomenally fortunate” to have had the work, given how acting has been affected by the pandemic. This October, he was due to appear in CP Taylor’s play Good; that now seems unlikely.

Even when theatres are able to reopen, Tennant does not foresee audiences flocking back, “to sit there watching three hours of Chekhov as someone coughs all over them”. The impact on British culture could be catastrophic, he fears, even for institutions such as the National Theatre and the Royal Shakespeare Company. “It’s a huge bill just to keep those buildings running … We could be left with a cultural scene that’s vastly changed, and that’s a huge part of who we are as a nation.

“Even if the theatre is of no interest to you, even if it feels like an elitist playground, it’s places like that that all the other creative industries feed off,” he says, adding that the arts make a significant contribution to the UK economy – nearly £11bn in 2016, more than agriculture.

Tennant’s career first developed in theatre. As a teenager in Paisley, the son of a Presbyterian minister, he became one of the youngest students at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama. Even as his work in television and film has taken off, Tennant continues to be a regular on stage, especially with the RSC.

It faces a “titanic problem” in the pandemic, he says, having furloughed 90% of its staff. Government intervention is needed to support theatres until they can reopen, he says, but he is sceptical of it materialising. “If one felt more inclined to trust this government, one might relax, but they haven’t exactly covered themselves in glory thus far.” In fact, since I spoke to Tennant, the government has promised the arts and heritage sectors a rescue package worth £1.57bn, which the playwright and funding advocate James Graham described as “surprisingly ambitious”.

A longtime Labour supporter, Tennant appeared in an election broadcast in 2015 before becoming disillusioned with Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership (to summarise various diplomatic responses to interviewers). Asked if he was a fan of Corbyn in 2017, he said he was a fan of the party – although its ambivalent position on Brexit (which Tennant has called a “shitshow”) was a sticking point.

Before last year’s general election, he said he was not even sure if he would vote for Labour. He did – to return Ruth Cadbury to her Brentford and Isleworth seat: “And, also, what was the actual alternative?”

He admits he found Labour’s defeat and the postmortem “disappointingly predictable”, although he still struggles to fathom how so many red seats turned blue. “How do you go from ever being a Labour supporter to supporting Boris Johnson?” he asks, dumbfounded.

He expresses some limited sympathy for politicians handed a pandemic when they thought they “were only going to have to talk about Brexit”. “But if you choose a cabinet purely to surround yourself with people who won’t disagree with you, you’re not necessarily getting the greatest brains in the country,” he says, although a caveat is quick in coming. “One might postulate, were that to be the case, and I’m not for a minute suggesting it is …”

Last year, Tennant singled out Michael Gove’s call for “enough of experts” as a “political lowpoint”. That attitude has had deadly consequences during the pandemic, I suggest. Now the government is “hiding behind them”, he agrees – “selectively, of course. If the experts then say: ‘We told them not to do that,’ suddenly they’re evil again.”

He shakes his head in despair. “Ugh! It’s a very sad state of affairs. Remember when there used to be clever people? When you look back on David Cameron and George W Bush with some kind of sentimentality, you think: ‘Jesus – how low have we plummeted, when they look like better options than what we’ve got currently?’”

Under Keir Starmer, Tennant says Labour “are looking a lot stronger”: “We’ve got a clever grownup in the room, which makes the other side look as ridiculous as they are. Let’s hope he can fulfil his early promise.”

Tennant has said he was inspired to act by watching Doctor Who at the age of three. When he was cast as the 10th incarnation of the Doctor, in 2005, he quipped that the first line of his obituary was written. Ten years since ceding the role to Matt Smith, Tennant remains as connected as ever to the programme, recording a new Doctor Who audio drama while in lockdown. “It’s a nice show to be associated with, because people feel kindly towards it,” he says. “You may not be a fan, but it sort of sits there in the cultural firmament. As a nation, I think we’re quite proud of it.”

Unlike many vehicles for British nostalgia, the malleability of the format has allowed Doctor Who to move with the times, he thinks. “It absolutely comes with all that nostalgic goodwill, but it also manages to live in the moment.

“It felt like a very different show in 2005 than it did in 1963, but it also has that link to the past – which is a positive, rather than preserving it in aspic in any way.” And the Doctor, defined by his (or her) kindness, a peaceful champion of the underdog, is “a wonderful character to aspire to. It’s about being the cleverest person in the room, not the strongest.”

Tennant, meanwhile, remains in his garden, the school pickup plan no more clear for all the messages sent back and forth over the threshold. “Probably would have been quicker just to go and have a conversation,” he says, cheerily. “But less fun for you, obviously.”

#david tennant #culture #television & radio #television #stage

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natsubeatsrock · 3 years

Text

10 Things I Enjoyed in 2020 that Aren’t Fairy Tail

Well... it’s almost over? With all the crazy stuff that’s happened this year, it’s hard to remember that there were some good things to come from this year. So instead of 7, here’s 10 things I enjoyed throughout this year.

#10. Sonic the Hedgehog

Not unlike many people, this would be the last film that came out this year I would see in theaters before everything shut down earlier this year. While I have gone out to watch movies throughout this year since, this happens to be the only movie I’ve been looking forward to that came out this year. Since the release of Detective Pikachu last year, the fraught history of video game movies has started to look a lot better. For all intents and purposes, I think this film is better than that one, and I’m a much bigger fan of Pokemon than Sonic. If certain spoilers are a sign of anything, a future sequel will be interesting to see and greatly anticipated.

#9. Pokemon Ranger: Shadows of Almia

One of the blessings-in-disguise of being locked down with extra money is the ability to get and enjoy things you haven’t gotten the opportunity to before. In my case, I was able to play through some of the Pokemon games I’ve been waiting to play through. My favorite of the bunch has been the second installment of the Pokemon Ranger series. The Ranger games have been greatly underrated and overlooked by fans. I was reintroduced to the original last Christmas and believe it to be a solid game, but this easily blows it out of the water. While this year also marked the sad end of the 3DS cycle, I’m glad that this game came my way.

#8. 42

With the unfortunate passing of its lead actor, Chadwick Boseman, and the racial tensions which came to a head after the death of George Floyd, it makes sense theaters would reopen with this movie. Jackie Robinson’s story is one that’s interested me as the talks of integration and racism have gone on this year. He became the first African American MLB player because of both his talent on the field and his character off it. He wasn’t just skilled in stealing bases. He didn’t allow the anger he rightly felt towards racism control him.

#7. Bakuman

The famed writer and artist duo behind Death Note teamed up to deliver another smash hit manga for Weekly Shonen Jump. This time, about... a writer and artist duo who team up to make a name for themselves by delivering a smash hit manga to Weekly Shonen Jump. As I read Bakuman, I was struck with the genius of its construction. It’s one thing to read the information about Shueisha and WSJ this series shares in a book. It’s another for that information to be shared within the confines that the series itself describes. Special shout-outs go to Ayakashi Triangle and Phantom Seer which started in WSJ this year.

#6. Power Girl: Power Trip

Oh? Were you perhaps expecting to see some other female character owned by Detective Comics Comics who graced the silver screen take this spot? Well, maybe next year, depending on how things go. I love my comic book heroes with healthy doses of snark and existential crisis. While I might have gone in expecting the former, I wasn’t expecting the latter as much. If you know about Power Girl, you may know about her famous “boob window“, which is in lieu of a real symbol. It turns out that she was originally thought to be Superman’s cousin, but has recently been proven to be otherwise. I’m not so against DC that I’m unwilling to admit when they make books that I like.

#5. Carole and Tuesday

Carole and Tuesday holds a special spot as becoming the latest 10/10 anime I’ve seen. This is easily one of the most diverse anime that I’ve ever seen. It’s not just a matter of showing people of different walks of life, ethnicities, and sexual orientations. It’s also showing artists different music styles from folk to jazz to rap to electronic to new age to operatic rap. And none of it feels forced or unnatural, though some of it might come off as offensive. If you’re on as big a planet as Mars, you’ll expect to see all kinds of people and hear all kinds of music as long as you’re willing to listen. Shinichiro Wantanabe is one of anime’s best directors and this might be his best work yet.

#4. Lupin III: The First

If you told me a few years ago that one of the best anime movies would be a fully CGI film, I would have looked at you like you were insane. Nevertheless, this movie exists. I was skeptical about the idea of a fully CGI movie for a character like this. But when I saw a clip from the movie, I could tell they knew what they were doing. This movie is by no means anywhere as good looking as Spiderverse, but it looks amazing in its own right. Content wise, this serves as a great heist film for anyone regardless of proximity to the series. Arsene Lupin III makes It makes a fine introduction to the world of one of anime’s most longstanding series, and a good launching point for his earlier antics. Props to Weathering to You for keeping this slot warm. (Ironic considering things...)

#3. John Byrne’s run on Sensational She-Hulk

So I wasn’t going to say this talking about Power Trip, but I need to say this here. American comics are at a weird spot. In attempts to reach a wider audience, they’re not doing a great job of keeping the fans they have. Or make actually new ones. The current run of Savage She-Hulk has been no exception to this. Though it wasn’t always like this and John Byrne’s runs on Sensational She-Hulk is proof positive. Byrne took Jennifer Walters with more fun than I’ve seen any author write any comic book with. This especially shows in one of the more notable abilities of She-Hulk, breaking the fourth wall. I was very worried when I heard Marvel Studios was going to do a series with Shulkie. But with this as inspiration, maybe there’s hope for this project after all. (Please be good!)

#2. Burn the Witch

Tite Kubo is back, baby! This spot doesn’t go to any of the sets of chapters to be published in Shonen Jump. Rather, his collaboration with Studio Colorido is my choice for anime of the year. Burn the Witch tells the story of a different Soul Society than Bleach fans may be familiar with. It’s almost cheating to compare this mid-length film to the other shows to come out this year, even if it was broken up into three episodes for streaming sites. However, film or otherwise, no other anime grabbed my attention as much as this did. This also marks the best anime from WSJ I’ve seen this year. Surely I’m not forgetting anything big to come out recently in saying this, especially from this year with everything that got delayed. Honorable mentions go to TONIKAWA: Under the Moon, Bofuri, BNA, Keep Your Hands off Eizouken!, and Misfit of Demon King Academy for nearly taking my spot.

#1. Skullgirls

This year has been a tough year for a lot of people, companies, and fandoms. Though, I’d be hard pressed to think of a fandom that has had a worse year than this indie fighter. One of its founders was revealed to be terrible, one of its parent companies went under, and a prime opportunity for the spotlight in EVO Online being cancelled, it wouldn’t be a mistake to say things aren’t going well. Thankfully, the fans and dev team have done everything they can to keep this game alive before and that didn’t stop this year. It feels somewhat on-brand for this series to have survived the kinds of situations that would normally kill a game off. This game would have made the top spot by virtue of being the most fun game I played this year. I’m proud to put it at this spot knowing everything that’s surrounded it this year.

For extra honorable mentions, Pokemon’s seventh generation of games, especially the Ultra versions, were fun to finally experience and they have the best stories of the 3DS era of Pokemon. Cobra Kai was a fun series and almost definitely would be here if I were more emotionally attached to the Karate Kid series. I rewatched Neon Genesis Evangelion and it’s better than I remembered originally. Finally, I’d move heaven and earth to add Oregairu or Hilda on this list, considering new seasons came out this year, but I know better.

As usual, check my list for EZ, which also has 10 things, and be glad we’re almost done with this year. See you!

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rt8815 · 4 years

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OC Ask Game

I was tagged by the amazing @illegalcerebral

I put a Keep Reading link because this is looong.

1) Name (and why you chose it if you like) McKinley Campbell Durand. I named her after McKinley Morganfield, better known as Muddy Waters. However, the “in universe?” reason that will be given - which I haven’t written yet - is that McKinley and Campbell are family names from a few generations back.

Campbell comes from the Gaelic words for ‘crooked’ and ‘mouth.’ I just like the name. Here’s a post (that I had to rewrite because Tumblr’s a dick and wouldn’t let me edit the typos in the original. The rewrite had typos too! Blargh!) that discusses her first and last names. I thought it would be funny for her full name to consist solely of last names.

2) Fandom and how they fit into the story Criminal Minds. She works at a D.C. museum practically around the corner from the J. Edgar Hoover building (as indicated in “Let It Bleed”). That’s a tiny hint that it’s the National Museum of African American History & Culture, but I don’t think I’ll mention it very often, if for no other reason than I’ve never been to the NMAAHC and don’t want to describe it inaccurately.

The official story is that Spencer and McKinley met at the museum (again, in “Let It Bleed,” which is probably the least favorite thing of mine that I’ve written). However, they’d met once before, and texted a few times after that. Because my brain is all over the place, and because I’m telling the story in non-chronological order, I haven’t written their first meeting yet. The only details I’ve revealed thus far are that it was nighttime in a park, McKinley caught Spencer off guard and made him fall to the ground, and whatever they talked about set Spencer straight and lifted his spirits. Also, a swingset was involved. Beyond that, I’ve inserted McKinley into the plotlines and events of the show, with necessary alterations, and there’s a ton of domestic Spencer and off-duty team stuffs.

3) Do they have any family? Biological family: daughter Sophie and son Jason; her Mom (no name yet); maternal grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins; and her estranged father (no name yet). Chosen/found family: husband Spencer; the BAU.

4) As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up? When she was a toddler, McKinley wanted to be a pediatrician (a doctor just for kids?! Cool!) or an ophthalmologist (she’s worn glasses practically her whole life). As an older child she aspired to be an entomologist or herpetologist. In her teenage years she considered a career in forensic pathology or criminal psychology. While earning her BA in English, she discovered that Public History was her true calling.

5) Their greatest dream To be a good Mom. To inspire learning in others.

6) Their worst nightmare Losing her family; having to see her father again.

7) Strengths Empathy, insight/self awareness, forgiving nature but knowing when to cut her losses

8) Weaknesses McKinley struggles with imposter syndrome.

She can be very mean. I mean, downright nasty cruel, verbally. This is rare though because, and I’m paraphrasing a future bit of dialogue here, anyone whose behavior could arguably warrant such a response is beneath her notice and not worth the effort. She’s more likely to close the door on someone. When she’s removed a person from her life, she is done. They become literally nothing to her. McKinley will rightly claim that this is about self-preservation and boundaries, but she really takes it to the next level.

9) What would they chose between: morning and night, sweet and savoury, beaches or meadows, cities or countryside, winter or summer, Christmas or Halloween (sorry, Spencer!), movies or TV shows, action or rom-com, clowns or vampires, stars or the moon (both!), cocktails or pints [Neither. McKinley doesn’t care for cocktails or beer. Scotch, brandy, rum, and dry wines are her poisons. She’s been known to add Kahlúah to vanilla ice cream, Baileys Irish Cream to coffee (she wants to try Drambuie next), or make hot toddies when she has a cold (obviously not mixing any alcohol with any medicine)]

10) How do they relax? Reading, or having Spencer read to her; knitting; listening to her records or playing her guitar; exercising with Boogie so she’s exhausted enough to sleep that night; baking and cooking

11) What makes them angry? Injustice, apathy/indifference, ableism, willful ignorance

12) What makes them afraid? The awful things she’d possibly do under duress; her family getting hurt or worse; spiders and other bugs that bite and/or sting

13) What is a moment from their childhood that has shaped who they are? It’s not a single event, but growing up with an abusive parent has certainly had a lifelong impact on McKinley. You’ve heard the expression “once bitten, twice shy?” She’s “once bitten, there’s no twice because you no longer exist.” She’s working on that. It’s also cultivated empathy, though, and is part of the reason she volunteers in the hospital’s rehab wing.

14) Do they have a sense of humour? Intellectual humor, pop culture references, puns/Dad jokes, science jokes. Sometimes morbid.

15) What do they value in their friends/loved ones? Honesty and empathy

16) Do they have any pets? An Aussie Collie/Border Aussie named Boogie-Woogie. He’s her first child.

17) Worst memory? Probably the day Meadows shot her and she thought she’d never see Spencer and Penny again.

18) Best memory? The days Sophie and Jason were born. Minus, y’know, the agonizing pain of labor and delivery.

19) Do they have any tattoos? (If no would they get one?) Nope and nope

20) If you could write them into another fandom, which one would you choose? If I knew the MCU better, I’d love to write her in as a Stark Tower employee! She’d be an anthropologist and would study alien societies the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. have encountered. She’d naturally be drawn to Loki, initially in a professional capacity (they quickly discover they relate to each other on a personal level as well).

He’d first find her annoying: “Why are you pestering me, Mortal? Surely you’d rather interview my oaf of a brother?”

“No, not even remotely. He only ever wants to discuss battles he’s won. There’s so much more to Asgard and the other realms than that. I want - I need - to learn your literature, your science, your culture and history. You’re well versed in all of these subjects and you’re an excellent teacher.”

He stares at her impassively over his mug of tea, but his heart - that Judas of an organ - flutters slightly at the compliment. And how can he say no to a fellow scholar?

“I prefer your company to Thor’s too. You have this calming presence. Thor’s sweet but he’s also obnoxiously loud and brash and he always hugs me even though I keep telling him I don’t like it. And he’s constantly swinging his hammer around, which makes me think he’s overcompensating for something.”

Loki nearly chokes on his tea. Yes, this mortal is considerably more tolerable than others.

“Very well. Friday evenings at 6:00, my chambers. Arrive late and suffer my wrath.”

From that day forward, whenever Thor tries to hug her, he gets mildly electrocuted.

Did I accidentally sorta kinda write a drabble? Would anyone be interested in making this a collab? That’s what they’re called, right? (Can you tell I’ve given this some thought? Haha! I have even more details in my head.)

21) Do they like their job? (What else would they do if they could?) She loves it! Hmmm, what else…? A librarian maybe. Or animate and produce an educational cartoon series.

22) What is their sexuality? Demisexual

23) Do they believe in love at first sight? Soulmates? One true love? McKinley believes in “seeing the potential for a good relationship at first conversation.”

Yes, although she feels that term has become overused and poorly redefined.

People can find love again after it’s been lost.

24) What music do they listen to? Has that changed over time? I actually recently answered an ask about this. Yes, she grew up on what passed for country in the ‘90s. God help her, she had a boyband phase in junior high.

25) Can they cook? What food do they love? McKinley does pretty well in the kitchen. She loves a wide variety of food. She grew up in the south, so tons of carbs/comfort foods. She loves Thai, Japanese, and Indian food. She cooks up Middle Earth-inspired dishes (ha! nerd). She’s especially proud of a seed cake she bakes.

26) What are their hopes for the future? For her family to be healthy, safe and happy. To be debt free.

27) How do they react to being threatened? It’s a coin flip. McKinley might curl up like an armadillo and hope the predator gets bored and leaves, or she might kick the stool out from under them and cause their chin to slam into the bar and crack several teeth.

28) What is their love language? McKinley and Spencer both exhibit the Acts of Service love language, because just saying “I love you” isn’t enough. You ought to show it. She’ll randomly bake doughnuts for Spencer or play guitar for him in bed, and he’ll take care of laundry, dishes, and any other chores he sees need doing.

Quality Time is important for them too. Once a month, Luke and Penny babysit so Spencer and McKinley have a day alone together. It doesn’t really matter what they do. The point is it’s just them.

It caught McKinley by surprise how much she enjoys physical affection, given that she can be touch averse but holy moly she was more touch starved than she realized. She lives for snuggles and makeout sessions and playing with each others’ hair. When one of them doesn’t want to be touched, they hook their pinkies together.

29) What do they find most challenging in relationships? At work? In general? At work she struggles to gain her colleagues’ respect (think “Boy Genius” treatment except she has lady bits). In general, she struggles with trusting people.

30) What do you as a creator love best about writing this character? Giving her everything I wish I had but don’t.

Bonus: Include a link to your favourite work with this OC or write a small drabble.

October 12, 2021

Warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently rousing Spencer from a pleasant sleep. Just when he’d decided to get up, he felt the mattress dip behind him and his wife’s breath fanning over his ear.

“Who’s the birthday boy?” whispered McKinley.

Spencer smiled softly but feigned being asleep.

“Who’s the birthdaaay boooy?” she repeated, bouncing slightly.

“The good-looking guy to your left?”

“Happy Birthday!” she laughed, pressing kisses along his neck, suddenly shifting the mood from playful to sexy.

“Would the birthday boy like his birthday present?” she asked as she lifted the covers.

“Well, look at that - it’s already unwrapped!”

#oc appreciation #writing games #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #oh god it's 03:15 why am i still awake?#why do i do this to myself #sleepy time for Rubes now

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thefootballlife · 4 years

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King making - The SPFL try to end the season but find Rangers in the way

One thing needs stating off the bat - the 2019/20 season in Scotland is over. When football was stopped, on 13 March, the UK registered just over 200 new cases. We now see more than 20x that every day and the last day with under 200 deaths, not cases, was in March. For the UK to be back to that level, the curve does not just need flattened, it needs to essentially be a plateau. This is not happening any time soon and you would expect that it would need to be for sporting events to resume, be they behind closed doors or otherwise.

However, that is evidently not the view of all clubs nor is it the view of all fans. But, as a writer, I do not feel the paragraph above is opinion, it is fact. There are leagues in Europe which will be able to resume, in nations where the virus has been handled better and leapt upon at the first sign of it in the nation as opposed to what the UK did. Talking about when games can resume puts you not in the role of a person concerned about welfare, etc, it casts you as Vince McMahon or Dana White and neither are things you really want to be.

So the argument the SPFL is trying to have is a simple one - how one ends the season, not whether resumption of the season is possible. It is not an argument UEFA want leagues to have until the last possible moment, but given that we are not in a position to even say that the SPFL would be able to start on time for the scheduling of the 2020/21 season, it is wholly obvious that there is not the time to force in the remainder of this one.

The SPFL’s proposal was simple - declare the season over for all divisions albeit the Premiership would simply remain suspended awaiting UEFA to basically permit the season to end. Clubs opposed it and, naturally, those who did are generally those who would lose out - Hearts, East Fife, Patrick Thistle. Those sides want games to be played for understandable reasons - should those games go well, then the clubs stand to benefit immensely.

To be entirely fair to the SPFL, UEFA’s stance of potentially ruling out access to European competitions for league who close the season prior to the fat lady having belted out a few notes does not help. Their proposal has to be as an “if” we close the season, not a “how”. The practicalities of Coronavirus show clearly it is the latter but the diplomacy the league has to carry out necessitates it is the former until UEFA permit the latter.

But all of this seems fairly clear. The SPFL have to find a way to bring the season to a close in a manner that pleases clubs and put forward a proposal to do so. That isn’t a very easy circle to square, given that it involves either denying sides promotion or denying sides the chance to reverse form books and avoid relegation. After 30 games, the season can’t be voided and that would bring more questions than just ending the season would. In addition, the SPFL proposed that, should the proposal have been agreed, the door to reconstruction may have been opened if it were possible for an agreement to be made. Given how getting clubs to agree the season is over has panned out, it is perhaps unsurprising that any discussion of reconstruction has been with the giant caveat that getting an agreement on that may be extremely challenging.

So, last Wednesday, the SPFL published their proposal looking for votes by the end of Friday. The obvious clubs came out against it - Hearts and Partick Thistle, who would be getting relegated as a result. Hearts deservedly, Thistle with a much more live chance of rescuing themselves. Rangers, meanwhile, made a statement because of course they did. They accused the SPFL of bullying sides into agreeing this proposal and floated a different one - that the league would release prize money now based on current positions and then the league would play to a finish as normal. This, of course, ignores the fact that the league will not finish as normal.

Rangers, however, submitted their amendment incorrectly, making it an instruction rather than a request - as it would have to be for it to be legal as per the 2006 Companies Act. Rangers were duly informed as such and then didn’t submit an amended amendment because they were too busy starting beef with the SPFL over what they felt were communication issues. The SPFL, unusually, turned round and told Rangers where they could stick their accusations of communication issues but that would just be the prelude to the next bit of insanity. Come vote reveal time, not all sides had submitted their vote - Hearts were just plain late but the result controversy would come around Dundee. They initially sent their vote in the wrong format, seeing it end up in the SPFL’s junk, then sent an email to say “ignore our vote pls” then sent a vote again and then confirmed to the SPFL that their vote definitely shouldn’t be counted. This is vitally important as it is Dundee’s vote that is now the one that will decide the whole thing.

Rangers, following this, did another statement demanding Neil Doncaster’s head because they claimed to have proof of irregularities. The SPFL asked to see this proof and Rangers then went quiet. As we wake this Monday morning, we are no sooner to seeing an agreement being reached save to say that Dundee will surely ride this one for all it’s worth.

This is, of course, all a massive embarrassment. Rangers’ current policy doesn’t amount to anything other than “GIRUY Celtic”. Celtic were cantering to the title prior to football closing and no sensible person would have argued they were catchable - fortunately for Rangers, they don’t need to do that. They merely need to cast enough doubt on the integrity of the whole thing so that people would not consider Celtic as champions, whether they are given the title or not. They have likely done that enough to satisfy their own fan base and will, soon, hopefully decide to be sensible and discuss the future rather than trying to colour the past.

Dundee’s initial refusal was similar - they were both waving fists down the road in the direction of Tannadice and complaining about not getting their playoff spot. They should not be in the position they are in currently, but they are and few would blame them for seeing just what ransom they can now get.

Reconstruction should be on the table. Much of the SPFL’s concerns revolve around the new Sky contract coming in for next season for two reasons - one, that it may not start on time and two, that any reconstruction might not have the four Celtic-Rangers games a season Sky demand. In the meantime, for as long as there is no agreement between clubs, clubs are being denied funding they desperately need. This should not be of concern at all. For one, Sky (and every broadcaster) are rather aware of the whole Coronavirus thing.

In addition, I’m sure that if the choice was further rancor that eventually pushes a single league club to the wall, or a reconstruction agreement that sees Sky break their contract in a huff, every fan of the game would pick the latter.

The SPFL now has four tasks to complete. The first is to just throw this current proposal in the bin and start again. There has been too much acrimony and there is now too much power consolidated around one club for it to go at all as it was originally intended.

Secondly, they have to get every club to agree on one thing - that the 2019/20 is over. Not how it’s concluded as that is a separate process, but that it is over. There is no prospect of further football taking place before next season and the concept should no longer be entertained.

Once that is done, the third task is to agree how all those loose ends are tied up when it comes to relegation and promotion which directly leads to the fourth task - reconstruction, be it on a temporary or permanent basis. There is certainly the desire for reconstruction in many areas - whether there is consensus for a particular form of it is a whole other matter. That is the case at both the top and bottom end of the leagues - Brora and Kelty Hearts have both surely done enough to justify their chance at league football and both will feel rightly miffed if Coronavirus denies them even a playoff.

A fourteen team league has been mooted (keeping Hearts in the top flight and promoting the top two of the Championship) but any fourteen team league comes with the obvious issue of how you do a split and how you manage bye weeks, etc. This writer would like to see the system from Serbia brought in - sixteen teams playing each other home and away before the league splits in two and teams play each other once more. This then incorporates Dundee United, Caley, Dundee and Ayr United (removing any issue the Championship sides would have) and also bring fresh match-ups to the top flight. In Serbia, the second tier follows the same format (which would incorporate the rest of the Championship and League One) and similar can be done for the “bottom” tier.

But clubs need to all accept that the 2019/20 season is over. There is no prospect - absolutely zero - that Coronavirus cases will decline enough quickly enough to allow it. Agreeing that won’t sort our issues, but it will at least compartmentalise them enough to make future agreement a more gradual and easier process.

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