#and thinking of the foxes doing stupid shit is the only thing that sustained me through exams season

[thespineoftherighteous]

Neil is definitely one of those kids that can just fling themselves over really tall things

the foxes find out in a break during practice when Neil and matt are fooling around and Neil uses his hands to just launch himself over one of those massive trash cans in the locker room

matt is fascinated by this and has Neil do it again and then once more

as they make their way back to court matt questions Neil on whether or not he could jump over various things

"the bookshelf in the girls' room?"

"probably" (thoughtful)

"coach's liquor cabinet?"

"probably" (confident)

"my racquet?"

"definitely not"

"Aaron?"

"hm?" neil breaks out into a grin as, at the sound of his name, aaron turns around from where he was taking with Renee at the doors of the court

matt explains neil's newfound talent and aaron just looks unimpressed

"wonderful. that's not going to happen"

"aw why not?" neil's grin has grown. "you scared?"

"of your incompetence maybe. not really in the mood for getting a knee to the head"

"ohh you're afraid of messing up your face. don't worry it's not that pretty anyways"

Aaron gestures wordlessly between his face and the face of a recently appeared andrew

"neil's right." andrew doesn't look at either of them as he walks by and a smiling Renee joins him in entering the court

Aaron rolls his eyes at that and matt, who has done very well in suppressing his laughter, asks him to let neil try

"ask Andrew. we're the same height anyway"

now Neil is just trying to be wicked: "i can't. don't want to risk messing up his pretty face"

Aaron rolls his eyes again and groans, elbowing his way past Neil onto the court. he turns back to Neil and matt who are shrugging at each other

"fine. once. and make it quick before Kevin and coach get back"

forty seconds later, matt is positioning Aaron in the middle of the court and Neil is bouncing on his toes seven meters behind him

Dan has looked up from the list of skills she was poring over and Andrew and Renee and Nicky and allison have paused mid conversation to watch

Aaron crosses his arms at the attention but then matt says "go" and a few seconds later there's a heavy pressure on his shoulders and Neil goes flying over his head

to Aarons credit, he doesn't so much as flinch

there's applause coming from Nicky and Dan and then:

"can you do that in a game?"

Kevin and coach stand in the doorway of the court

before neils face can even fully form a look of consideration there are four very firm "no"s from wymack, Dan, Andrew and Matt

Kevin and Neil look crestfallen but Dan continues. "besides, the majority of the people we play against are much taller than Aaron"

Aaron rolls his eyes and goes to sit next to Allison in the bleachers

Neil now looks contemplative. "I mean I could probably get over someone Nicky or Kevin- sized"

*cue practice being delayed by fifteen minutes because Neil wants to try jumping over everyone. coach draws the line at matt and Kevin but allows Nicky. Nicky, however, does not immediately allow Nicky*

"do, like, Renee first"

"why Renee?"

"to give you practice cause she's shorter"

"she's the same height as Aaron"

"fine so do Aaron again"

(Aaron, who is now on his phone: do not do Aaron again)

Neil jumps over Renee. then Dan. and Allison.

the foxes are all loving it (especially Kevin) and Neil is in his element

Nicky finally stands up for it but when he hears the violent pattering of neils approaching feet, Nicky shrieks and flinches in a way that nearly wipes both of them out

coach calls an end to it at that and Neil, slightly breathless, drops into the space next to Andrew on the bleachers

andrew hands him a water bottle and neil takes it while looking expectantly at Andrew

all Andrew says is "you're not even a rabbit. you're a frog"

Neil grins. "rabbit, raccoon, frog. it's getting hard to keep track of them all. you really should choose one name and stick with it"

Andrew rolls his eyes and rubs his knuckles against neil's shoulders to indicate his amusement.

"junkie"

"yeah that works too"

#the last person neil convinces to let him jump over is wymack #hes just barely taller than nicky so they already knew he could do it but it was more for sake of getting him to do stupid shit with them #on the picture wall up goes a picture of neil mid leap over the head of a slightly scared/slightly exasperated looking david wymack #then neil and matt start talking about how MANY people they could line up for him to jump over and wymack tells neil if he doesnt keep both #keep firmly on the ground hell be benched for three weeks #thus putting an end to matt and neils short lived but nevertheless terrifying regime of turning neil into a flying killing machine #i feel like doing dumb shit like this with his foxes always has neil grinning to himself at night when thinks back on it #its just the fun light dumbass family shit #this could be very stupid but it was a thought i had in the shower and the image of neil flying like mad through the air is v entertaining #and thinking of the foxes doing stupid shit is the only thing that sustained me through exams season #speaking of...can i get a hallelujah for finishing that shit #neil josten #matt boyd #aaron minyard #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #allison reynolds #kevin day #andrew minyard #nicky hemmick #renee walker #dan wilds #david wymack #andreil #also since its technically eid now..eid mubarak to anyone celebratingggg #mine aftg

[jeni182]

Broken

content warning for suicide attempt and mention of past sexual abuse

Later when Andrew would stop to think about what really went wrong, he would come up with the same answer every time. 

He was where it went wrong. 

He was right when he thought Neil was a pipe dream. When Neil told him no he was not and then yes, yes, yes he let himself have something and that was the problem. He should know by now. He couldn't have anything. It was why he never wanted anything. 

Andrew doesn't even know how this happened. Graduation was coming up and he was signed with a professional exy team in Denver. He'd be leaving South Carolina for good in a few months. He just assumed Neil would join him when he graduated. It was a given. Wherever they ended up, it would be together. He thought. 

Neil was pushing for promises. He was making plans for holidays and when Andrew told him to stop being an idiot because he had no idea what his life was going to look like with training and press and games, Neil had not liked that. Not one bit. 

"This isn't going to work if you don't try to make it work," Neil told Andrew. They were on the roof with cigarettes and whisky and wandering hands and tousled hair. Overall it was a very good night, Andrew thought. Until Neil brought it crashing down. 

"There's no "try" right now. We don't even know what time we'll have once I'm there. Stop being so fucking dramatic."

"Maybe I'll just leave school. Maybe I'll come with you to Denver and try for a professional team in a year."

"Don't be an idiot," Andrew scoffed at him, "You think it'll be easy to get on a pro team without being drafted? And even if you do who's to say you'll end up on mine? You could be across the country. Not to mention certain Japanese fuck faces coming to murder you immediately when they realize you're not playing professionally. Don't make this into something it's not."

Neil leaned back at his words, as if they had been a physical blow. He gave Andrew a long look full of anger and hurt and betrayal and Andrew had to look away before the icy blue poked a hole in his chest. 

"Fine," Neil said, "Fine. We're done here. If this is what it's going to be like when you're gone and if this 'I don't give a shit' attitude is what I'll be getting when you're a million miles away from me, I'm done."

Neil stood up and walked away. A voice in Andrew's head begged him to call Neil back. To keep him from walking away. To break everything thing he believes in and get down on his knees and beg him not to leave. But he does none of those things. Because the loudest voice in his head says "Yes. This makes sense. This is how this was always going to go."

He was where it went wrong. 

He was never good enough for Neil. Neil was an idiot and a junkie and a smart mouthed moron. But he was brave. He was strong. He respected Andrew's boundaries and never pushed. Not once. Even those times when Andrew left him hard and wanting because some demon or other had decided to pay an unexpected visit. Neil understood and he kept his hands to himself and he talked about exy instead to annoy Andrew out of his own head. 

Andrew is none of those things. He thinks about those demons. How weak willed he is. How he can't even manage to handle normal words of the English language like please and promise and revenge. How fucked up he is from Steven and Drake and all of the men and baby-sitters in between who saw how small Andrew was and assumed that it meant easy prey. He was never good enough for Neil. He'll never be good enough for anyone. Not a good enough son or brother or cousin. So this situation feels right. He'd been in a downward spiral for months and had expected this eventually, if he was being honest. His mental health was steadily deteriorating and he was dragging Neil down with him.

He stares over the edge of the roof for a moment and wonders if it's far enough to kill him. Or if he would just be seriously injured. He doesn't think he could stand it if he ended up in the hospital instead. He shakes his head and stands up.

Then he jumps. 

___________

Neil is sitting in a chair beside Andrew's bed. He's been here for 2 days. Andrew was put into a drug induced coma so the doctors could try and figure out if his brain would survive his fall. Neil refused to think 'his jump'. Andrew would never be that stupid. Especially over Neil. 

When Neil heard people screaming outside of fox tower, he thought for sure another group of Ravens fans had fucked with the cars again. He did not expect a pale and shaking Aaron to bang on his door and tell him that Andrew had fallen from the roof before puking all over his sneakers. Neil was the fastest player in NCAA exy. But he had never run as fast as he did at that moment. 

When he got outside the building to find Andrew half in some bushes and half on the concrete with blood pooling around him, he wanted to puke too. The world felt like it physically moved from under his feet. It tilted and swayed and Neil didn't fight it. He fell to his knees and crawled over to Andrew. People were still screaming around him and calling the police and trying to pull him back. But Neil kept crawling. He made it to Andrew and laid his head on his chest. Still breathing. It was faint but the shallow rise and fall of his chest was there. His blonde hair was tinged pink with blood and his arm was at an unnatural angle. But he was still breathing. 

Neil rode to the hospital with Andrew and glared at anyone who asked if he was Andrew's family. If he was his brother. He let the butcher's smile slip free and no one questioned him after that. 

So here he was. Two days later and waiting for Andrew to wake up. They deemed his brain well enough to wake him from the coma. The swelling had gone down and his brain activity was up. The doctors said they have no idea what kind of damage he might have sustained until he's up and coherent. His arm would heal and he'd be able to play exy just as well as he did before. Neil knew Andrew would be annoyed with him for even asking, but he was signed in Denver and Neil didn't want him to lose that. Even if he wouldn't be next to Andrew while he did it.

It was a few days after being brought out of the coma before Andrew was awake and aware enough to talk. When Andrew started to stir on the third day, Neil jumped from the chair. He put his hand in Andrew's and squeezed, and nearly cried with relief when Andrew squeezed back. 

Andrew opened his eyes slowly and squinted up at Neil. His brows bunched together in confusion. 

"Who...who the hell are you?"

Neil's mouth dropped open on a strangled cry and his heart was trying to beat it's way out of his chest. 

"Andrew...it's Neil. It's me. I'm here."

"I know idiot, you just looked like you could use a reminder."

Neil gaped before closing his mouth and narrowing his eyes. "Even fresh out of a coma you're still an asshole."

"Coma?" Andrew really did look confused now.

"Yeah. They had to put you under after you fell to give your brain time to heal. Do you remember falling?"

__________________

Andrew willed his face to go perfectly blank. He did not remember falling. He remembered jumping. He remembered Neil walking away. He remembered crossing his fingers that he would not be in this exact situation and cursed himself for being so impulsive and less prepared. 

He took his hand from Neil's and looked away. "Go away."

"No," Neil said, angry now. "Tell me you didn't jump, Andrew. Please. Tell me this was an accident."

"I don't have to tell you anything. You're done, remember?"

Maybe it was the fall or the meds or the whole coma thing, but Andrew was suddenly very afraid he was going to cry. He didn't remember the last time he had let himself weep and he sure as shit wasn't about to start now. He needed Neil to leave. To get the fuck out of this room and this hospital and fox tower and probably South Carolina just to be safe. 

"Andrew, come on. I hated walking away from you. I just don't know sometimes. I don't know if you're as serious as I am about this and sometimes it feels like it would be easier to walk away from you before you can walk away from me. I'm terrified of next year. I'm terrified of losing you. I never get to keep anything good. You're the only thing that's ever been mine, that's ever been good."

Oh, that's wonderful. Oh, that's so fucking great because now Andrew really was crying. Before he can stop himself his face has crumpled and he's trying to fold in on himself, to shield himself from this and from Neil. But the wires make it impossible and all he can manage is covering his face before he completely loses control and finds himself sobbing.

He doesn't even know why he's crying and he's so fucking mad at himself and that makes him cry harder. He hates this. This feels like being violated all over again. To have Neil witness this.

Neil tries to grab Andrew's wrists to pry his hands away from his face.

"Don't fucking touch me. Just leave. Get the fuck out. I can't stand to look at you."

"No. I'm not going fucking anywhere until you look at me and talk to me, Andrew. Just talk to me." 

Andrew slowly lowers his hands and turns to look at Neil. He's wrecked. He looks like he hasn't slept in days. His hair is a mess and his clothes are rumpled and dark circles make his blue eyes heartbreakingly bright. 

"You were right to walk away. I've never been good enough for you. The entire team has been telling you that for years. It was bound to sink in eventually, even for an idiot like you. I'm a mess, Neil. I'm fucked up and angry and wrong. I will never be a whole person. Just...just leave."

"Of course you're not a whole person."

Andrew let out a choked laugh. He doesn't know why he expected anything different to come out of Neil's mouth.

"Do you think I'm a whole fucking person? Of course I'm not. Neither of us are. We're fucked, Andrew. We've been tortured and abused and beaten down again and again and again. The world will always work against people like us because it refuses to acknowledge that we can be functioning members of society. We're not whole people by ourselves but we were starting to be whole together. Why can't you fucking see that? Why can't you see that the reason we work so well together is that we're both so incredibly broken. Our jagged edges fit, Andrew. Whether you want to acknowledge that or not we fucking fit and fuck you for trying to throw that away."

"I'm not the one who walked away! I'm not the one who said I was done!"

"YOU DIDN'T STOP ME!” Neil was screaming. His face was red and he threw his arms out to the side as if to encompass his entire being.

Andrew looked away again and the tears were angry now. He couldn't rein it in. He couldn't take them back. He knew why he was crying now. He was crying for himself. He was crying for the little boy who was confused and hurt and didn't understand. He was crying for the child who said pleasepleaseplease over and over again to no avail. He was crying for the teenager who cut his arms to shreds at night after Drake left him broken and bleeding. He cried for the brother he lost and never even had a chance at knowing. He cried for the cousin who tried to fix him but never could because nothing can fix this. Not really.

He cried for himself and Neil. What they could've been to each other. For the nights filled with yes or no and the road trips and the house in Columbia and the bottom bunk where Andrew let Neil push him down and take him apart for the first time. For the trust they had built up and the unconditional loyalty he didn't think he would ever be able to find in another person. 

He turned his head back to Neil and grabbed the hand that was closest to him. 

"Stay. Please."

__________________

Neil sucked in a breath and his eyes went wide. He gripped Andrew's hand so tightly he had to force himself to let go. Andrew had just said please and Andrew was crying and Andrew was asking him to stay. Again. Now Neil was crying, too and he didn't give a shit.

"Of course I'm staying, you jack ass. Who else is going to take care of you? You'd murder Nicky within an hour."

"An hour? You have too much faith in me."

"Probably. But I always will."

Andrew pulled Neil's hand to bring him in closer. Neil held back, not wanting to hurt Andrew or accidentally pull out a wire. Andrew huffed with impatience.

"Come here, idiot."

The kiss lasted a few seconds and an entire lifetime and more was said inside of it than they could probably ever hope to choke out themselves. 

Neil was right. They were both broken boys who turned into broken men who could start to piece themselves together slowly, if they really wanted. If they tried hard enough to just let it happen for themselves. 

Andrew scooted to the other side of the bed until there was enough room. Neil kicked off his sneakers and carefully climbed in. He laid his head on Andrew's shoulder while Andrew wrapped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to his temple. 

"Thank you for staying."

Neil buried his face into Andrews chest and let his tears soak in to the blue hospital gown before he took a deep breath to reply.

"Always."

#all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg #tfc #andriel #andrew minyard #neil josten #breakup #fanfic #ficlet #i'm feeling some type of way today #I took it out on my boys #i'm sorry

[glendowen]

Big Bang

So, my big bang posting date was technically the 28, but I was at camp for the last week, and the wifi blocked tumblr and Ao3, and I ended up with a lot less free time than I was supposed to have, and it all boiled down to me not having the time to finish or post my fic by Friday (thanks to me scrapping my first draft completely changing my writing style two weeks before the deadline, because I’m so smart.)

So, my solution is to share little snippets every day until it’s all done, and by the end of the week, the whole fic will be posted. It wasn’t my original intention, but someties life doesn’t go exactly how you want it to. 

I want to thank the mods at @aftgbigbang for putting this wonderful event together. I’m so sorry this isn’t exactly how it was supposed to be posted, but thanks for the opportunity anyway. 

I also want to thank my wonderful artist @jojen-hewitt . Maaya put up with my crazy schedule and my internet break and made some truly incredible art for this fic, and I am absolutely amazed by everything she did. 

So, here are the first ~2000 words. I’m really hoping to have the rest for you as soon as possible.

The mutant games were messy, a violent clash between humans with “extraordinary” abilities trying to prove that they were worth something in a world that only found their value in entertainment.

The games’ creators, Tetsuji Moriyama and Kayleigh Day, were just two mutants who understood the world’s obsession with violence and used it to reserve them a spot in history books. The mutant games were nothing more than a feeble excuse for validity in a cruel world that managed to catch on spectacularly.

They were a perfect convoluted combination of violence and acceptance. In a world overwhelmed by the existence of mutants, the games provided a way to let them exist without being normalized; they gave a marginalized group a voice, but not one strong enough to be heard.

The court was a place of acceptance, but it was still a cage.

It was the perfect setup for Kengo Moriyama: it gave an acceptable outlet for his mutant brother and second born son to succeed without being directly involved with the main branch of the family and provided the best mutants to work for him. It was a sea of profit and power, and he was Poseidon.

Mutants were desperate for the ability to just exist in a society that perceived them as a monster, and Kengo was willing to provide that if they were willing to do his dirty work. He took the best of the players in his brother’s game, used their skills and their ruthlessness, and sent them to work.

One of his favorites was Nathan Wesninski, a man with a taste for blood and an ability to manipulate metal with just his mind. He could slaughter entire buildings full of people without leaving a trace or feeling an ounce of remorse, and he was so useful Kengo could even overlook his involvement with the Hatfords.

The mutants games were useful, and Kengo Moriyama could appreciate useful things.

Nathaniel Wesninski grew up learning his importance was strongly founded in the mutant games. The only way he could exist was if he, along with the other kids on his team, could manage to sustain fewer injuries in the hour they were on the court than the other gaggle of children across from them.

Most eight year-olds played little league soccer and football and thought about running away when their parents made them eat spinach and only changed their names when they were playing make-believe with their friends.

Nath—Alex, was not an average eight-year-old. Alex could change his looks with just a thought, could steal people’s powers if he saw them in use, and could quite literally inhabit other people if he touched them. Alex changed his name almost every other month as he ran around the world with his mother, who could make people think or feel whatever she wanted them to, away from his father, who could manipulate metal. Alex was forced to fight other eight-year-olds who could do who-knows-what, and when he got too good at fighting other mutant eight-year-olds his mother panicked that his dad’s boss was going to kill him, and stole him from a fancy mansion in West Virginia in the middle of the night.

Alex really missed fighting. He would reminisce about it when he was pressed up against his mother with his hand wrapped around the gun under his pillow, living in a place where no one knew that his name wasn’t actually Alex, or Stephan, or Christopher, and where he didn’t quite speak the language. But if you asked him what he wanted most, he’d tell you that he’d give anything to be average.

Neil was alone.

He was a nobody kid with no parents, squatting in a house in nowhere, Arizona, playing in the mutant games for some no-name high school.

His mother’s voice was screaming at him, reminding him that no matter how far he distanced himself from Nathaniel Wesninski it wasn’t safe for him to go anywhere near that world; that a new body and a pretend power (He told them he could manipulate fire. Useful, but not too uncommon for people to raise an eyebrow at it.) weren’t enough to protect him, and that a moment of adrenaline wasn’t worth death.

He ignored her. She might be right, and playing in the mutant games might be a death wish, but she had forced him to watch her die in Washington and had abandoned him at eighteen without his consent, so he figured acting out a little was fair.

So he pretended to be adequate at manipulating fire, so he could play for some average mutant team in Millport, Arizona and tried to keep his head down as much as possible.

It had worked perfectly until they lost the championships in May. They had been doing surprisingly well, and now Neil was watching them tear down the only place he had felt at home at in years.

As he watched them tear up the floor, he planned his next life. He figured he could pick up some unassuming looks from someone in the airport and actually fly back to France like his mom had planned before she went and died on him. He would stay away from the mutant games for the rest of his life and everything would work out like it always had, until his dad found him for good.

It was the perfect plan until David Wymack showed up in his life.

David Wymack was the mutant coach for Palmetto State University, a group of college kids who would have been incredible at the games if they could ever get along. They had the reckless abandon needed to succeed in such a violent atmosphere since Wymack only recruited mutants who had lived through some genuinely terrifying shit.

Mutants like Neil.

Except, there was no reason that he should know just how fucked up Neil’s life was, nor that he should have any interest in recruiting him. Neil had spent most of his time in Millport acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary; the Jostens were rich, busy business owners who had no time for their son, and stuck him in the mutant games after moving to the small town as a way of helping him make friends. He had no prior experience in fighting, and Millport wasn’t exactly a place known for its athletes.

None of that mattered, though, because Wymack was here and he was offering Neil a place on his mutant team after his last member was “unable” to maintain her contract.

(She had attempted to kill herself and was now locked up in an inpatient facility somewhere. Neil had read the article online about her.)

Neil tried to escape, to give up on dreams of a high school diploma and create another brand new identity before Wymack could drag him back into the world of the Moriyamas. He knew joining the foxes would put him close to Kevin, and that even if he didn’t recognize Neil and it was all a coincidence, the moment he let his guard down his true powers would slip out and he would be dead.

It had been tempting, to reach out and grab the opportunity for a real life Wymack was dangling in front of his face; to become a permanent fixture in the world, to have a name more substantial than dust. But taking the bait was dangerous, and Neil hadn’t let his guard down enough to do something quite that stupid.

So, he ran.

He booked it past a shocked Wymack and an even more shocked Hernandez and pushed towards the exit, his hand tight on the strap of his duffel bag. He had the papers, the plane tickets to France, the money to make it for a few more years. He would swipe the unassuming looks of his English teacher (the dirty blond hair, the hazel eyes, the generic face structure) and disappear, leaving Neil Josten in the cosmos, just as he had all the other identities sitting in between him and Nathaniel Wesninski.

He would disappear once again, and the world would continue to spin.

Which was a wonderful plan that he had every intention of following, until he felt a solid hand wrap around his wrist and pull so hard Neil could feel the bruise forming, and suddenly the world fell away.

Not in the overly sappy, romantic way, where you meet your soulmate and suddenly you are the only two in the world. No, Neil meant that his facade was stripped from him piece by piece, and he was suddenly facing someone a mere three inches shorter than him, a crazed smile taking up the majority of his assailant’s face. He couldn’t see himself, but if the glint in the eye of the maniac midget (he belatedly identified him as Andrew Minyard, defensive player for the PSU foxes) was anything to go by, he was most definitely standing at a solid 5 feet 3 inches tall, with shocking blue eyes and hair the color of blood.

The psycho’s smile grew impossibly wider, and he tipped his head to the side as if in thought.

“Isn’t this interesting? I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.”

The crazed laugh that slipped out after the statement threw Neil off once again, and he was suddenly rendered useless as he tried to compose his thoughts into a semblance of order.

His slip up had left Wymack enough time to catch up, and after making some quip about not having nice things to Minyard, his attention was back on Neil, making sure that he wasn’t injured or incapacitated.

He brushed the larger man off with a solid “I’m fine,” and moved to separate himself from what felt like a pack of wolves surrounding him.

Andrew opened his mouth, most likely to make some witty response that would once again piss Wymack off when another voice cut him off.

“Great. If you’re fine you can sign the forms and we can head back to South Carolina with a full lineup.”

Neil’s heart stopped, his blood froze in his veins, and he suddenly wished that he had the power of invisibility or spontaneous combustion.

He hadn’t heard that voice in ten years, but no matter how much deeper it had become, Neil knew who was about to appear in front of him.

Kevin Day hopped down from Hernandez’s desk, closing up a file with a picture of Neil, with brown hair and brown eyes and a few added inches of height, taped to the front. He took up his place behind Andrew, his green eyes flashing to the pint-sized psycho he had adopted as his bodyguard following the “skiing accident,” and then towards Neil.

Kevin had hardly changed at all over the years, the only stark difference the permanence of the number two under his eye; Riko Moriyama’s 18th birthday had begun with the sharpie being wiped away and replaced by a tattoo gun. His eyes were far more sunken into his face, and the cloud of anxiety that had followed him was more subdued, but Kevin Day was still the recognizable son of Exy.

Neil felt trapped with all of the pairs of eyes on him; he knew that only Minyard could see him stripped down, but he still felt too seen. Up until this moment, Neil could categorize his memories into fight or flight, but for once his only response was to freeze.

Wymack seemed to be unaware of Neil’s internal dilemma, or purposefully ignoring it, but he shot a dirty look at Kevin and Andrew and spat out some harsh words that he couldn’t hear, and the pressure around Neil’s wrist disappeared.

Pleased with the privacy they had achieved, Wymack shot him a look that screamed exhaustion; he had seen a lot over the years of coaching his team of misfits, and one man can only have so much patience.

He gave Neil one last chance, reminded him that they could protect him from whatever he happened to be running from, just like they protect Kevin. They wouldn’t announce his name until the last possible minute, would provide him housing for the summer, would guarantee him at least five years of permanence, and would let him participate in a game that he had been desperately missing for a decade. Kevin obviously didn’t recognize him yet, and Minyard was far too interested in him to reveal his secret just yet.

He signed the papers and counted down the days until May.

Neil Josten was going to be real for as long as possible, and Mary Hatford was too dead to do anything about it.

He realized that he didn’t need to catalog any new faces in the airport, knew that he was actually going to look the same for a decent amount of time, but old habits die hard. People watching hadn’t just been Neil’s main source of entertainment as a child, but an integral part of his survival and airports were the perfect place to do it.

He found one of the Minyard twins and followed him out to the parking garage, deciding that it had to be Aaron because his apathetic look could never be achieved by his heavily medicated counterpart.

He followed him out to the parking garage and climbed into the passenger seat of a vehicle that looked far too expensive for an orphaned college student.

Their wrists’ bumped lightly together as Minyard reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket; his eyes met Neil’s, and they silently agreed to keep quiet.

Andrew pulled the car out of the parking garage, and they headed towards PSU.

#aftgbigbang #aftg #tfc #Neil Josten #Andrew Minyard #Moriyama #Kevin day #David Wymack #Kengo Moriyama #all for the game #the foxhole court #Mr. I'm fine #puts the exy in sexy #not paid enough for this #armed with apathy #Issy writes #Issy really meant for this to be posted in full on time #but life is a dick #I hope you enjoy this in the meantime

[wxldchxld]

BECK TANDY RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted. Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

mun name: Mary ooc contact: Inbox, IMs, anything. I’ll give my discord or skype out too, just ask. 

Who the heck is my muse anyway?

Beck is a shifting witch from the Fox Clan. She’s been long since estranged from the only family she has left (in most verses); her brother Fen. Beck spends her time traveling, roaming the wild places that still remain in the world. 

Points of interest:

Beck is incredibly deceptive. Not maliciously so, but Beck can and will steal from other people in order to sustain herself (or just if she thinks they’re pricks). She often lies about who she is and manipulates people into thinking she’s helpless/harmless or that she trusts them more than she really does. 

Beck has very few friends, so any muse that meets her will have to take some time before she’s real around them. 

Beck is super flirty/friendly.

Beck is filled with energy and a major flight risk. She has an insatiable urge to be in the wild and that often puts in her a place where she feels torn between the people she loves and the need to be who she is. She longs to have someone that understands and perhaps even shares her wild nature.

What they’ve been up to recently:

Traveling

Where to find them:

???????

The good thing about Beck is I can have her be pretty much anywhere.

Desired interactions:

Actual long term relationships; romantic or otherwise.

Offered interactions:

I am not super sure what that means. We can do anything??? I’m always up for plotting and I’m usually decent at getting ideas out there.

Anything else?

I generally return replies very quickly, granted I’m not busy. I get that people don’t work at my pace all the time so seriously; no pressure.

I’m really big on communication. If you guys dislike or want something tell me. If you don’t like a reply or starter I gave you, tell me. If you want to drop a thread, tell me. I am really chill and easy to deal with, but the fastest way to get on my shit list is ignoring me and expecting me to go away. It’s immature and more importantly it really fucks with my bipolar and anxiety. I will never go off on you and at least you can take solace in the fact that if I have a problem I’m sure as hell going to tell you. So you may as well return the favor.

Also there’s probably going to be a lot of goofiness on here. I’m not a super serious person, I don’t have a serious muse, and worst of all is I actually think I’m funny. I make stupid jokes and photomanips that suck that make me laugh. I do tag them though. So be prepared.

Tagged by: @agentharrisonofshield

Tagging: anyone and everyone? I’d love to see everyone fill this out. Unfortunately I don’t know if I’ll remember to tag people when I get back from supper. So if we’re mutuals, seriously do this and tag me in it, I wanna see.

#ooc

[yellowhalcyon]

~ this or that ~

RULES: ANSWER all questions, ADD one question of your own and then TAG as many people as you like!

Got tagged by @budapestalloveragain so here we go...

live session or studio session? studio music sounds so good to me and I’ve never really been a fan of concerts coke or pepsi? please give me some coke disney or dreamworks? dreamworks, never watched any disney coffee or tea? coffee but only when it’s sweet or cold books or movies? I would say books because there’s a lot more creative freedom sometimes and a lot more development of characters windows or mac? windows, macs suck and can burn in hell dc or marvel? tbh Marvel own me a lot of money for the shit they’re pulling at the moment and DC isn’t perfect either xbox or playstation? both, both is good night owl or early riser? depends on my sleeping schedule at the time cards or chess? cards chocolate or vanilla? chocolate, mostly since I find vanilla too sweet vans or converse? my feet are annoying and stupid and I wish I could chop them off star wars or star trek? ...O.O Star Wars, obviously (but I would highly recommend Star Trek to any sci fi, they’re both different but good in their own ways) one episode per week or marathoning? marathoning, then I can watch it whenever I want, since I seem to lose interest when it’s just one week at a time heroes or villains? heroes, villains get woobifyed too much that I’ve kinda gone off them john wiilliams or hans zimmer? so this is basically star wars vs inception sound tracks..? I feel like both are very underappreicated so I would say both because people don’t really realise how much work and effort it takes. disneyland/disney world or six flags? never been to either (or even heard of ‘six flags’) in that case I’ll take disneyland forest or sea? fuck that’s a hard choice, but I guess forests are safer in... some sense flying or reading minds? I don’t like what I know people think of me anyway, so I wouldn’t want to know more, plus I fly in my dreams and it feels so freeing so flying twin peaks or northern exposure? wft is twin peaks or northen exposure?! harry potter or lord of the rings? oh fuck I can’t decide, LotR was my childhood but then Harry Potter is so comforting to me, but I guess LotR is kinda dead now so Harry Potter. cake or pie? pie cos cakes can be too dry for me sometimes you are banished to a desert island, which benedict cumberbatch character would you choose to take with you? Lol, which ever one has the more meat on him so when he inevitably dies (because I kill him) there's enough to sustain me for a long enough period for me to get rescued. train or cruise ship? train cos cruises are for old, rich, white people brian cox or neil degrasse-tyson? Degrasse-tyson is kinda usa and brian cox is uk so cox. wizard of oz or alice in wonderland? alice in wonderland (wizard of oz is really good too) but Alice is so weird and symbolic and unfortunately made by a pedo that’s not to be forgotten fanfiction or fanart? you CAN’T make me chose between these two, like I find art easier to process but then I write fics. I would fight anyone who even thinks to insult these platforms, they’re both amazing and healthy ways to express yourselves. keep making wonderful work everyone <3.<3 the hunger hames - books or movies? the books, movies were whitewashed and boring and should have been 15+ not PG. see the future of travel to the past? the future is always changing and should remain unknown, I believe; I would go into the past as long as they found a way for my germs not to kill everyone han solo or luke skywalker? I would go with Luke cos he’s my gay son. Han is great but Luke is like that guy you could go to crying and, even though he doesn’t know you, he would sit you down and try to help as best he could, whereas Han would just panic and go get Luke. lilacs or sunflowers? hmmmmmmmmmmmm, sunflowers cos they’re tall and bright spring or autumn? spring, I’m a spring baby campfire or fireplace? depends on my mood, but I wouldn’t mind either french fries or onion rings? onion rings are great truth or dare? truth because the dares are always horrible winter or summer? winter because the bugs are back in hell where they belong, I can cover up my ugly body more, and being hot makes me want to die vampires or werewolves? vampires are so disgusting and rapey, also I’m part werewolf so werewolves all the way. red or blue? blood red eyes or lips? hmmmmmmmmmmmmm lips, cos I would rather be blind than deaf burgers or sandwiches? possibly burgers cos I’m really fussy when it comes to sandwiches friends to lovers or enemies to lovers trope? I think everyone thinks enemies to lovers is okay cos they don’t care about how the villain hurt the hero (especially if the hero is a woman) and everyone is like ‘but they’re just friends’ as a way to say something isn’t romantic, so friends to lovers (you should become friends with someone before you love them though) pizza or pasta? pasta is in my blood 24/7 so pizza ancient rome or ancient greece? rome, i guess cos maybe they’re more hygienic foxes or wolves? i love city foxes but then wolves are so family oriented, so both I guess mermaids or dragons? mermaids cos like swimming and breathing underwater sci-fi or fantasy? i can’t decide, fuck me watch a film at home or in a theater? depends on the film, but going to the cinema with my friend is my fav thing fireproof or no more sad songs? ...i don’t know what either of these are bands or individual singers? both are great sweet or salty? salty, I don’t have a sweet tooth monotype corsiva or comic sans? I never use either font so lol turtles or frogs? fuck, I never thought about that... I guess, frogs blur or oasis? oasis baseball or football? that’s such an american question, ummmm... hockey bowling date or movie date? movie cos dates are awkward and I don’t have to talk in a movie fruits or vegetables? i guess veg cos fruits are too sweet sometimes rain or sun? rain cos the sun is *hisses* tattoos or piercings? tattoos cos piercings look painful phone call or text? texting because phones are one of the seven layers of hell animated films or live action remakes? animated cos the live action are usually shit chandler or joey? both have their good or bad points so.... Joey cos he would have more sexual experience have all the boys reunite for a 1d tour but never go on solo tours or have all of them do solo tours but never reunite as a band for a tour? that’s such a fangirl question and I don’t care for either tv show or movie? tv I guess cos I do that film of ‘do I have enough time to pay attention to a 2 hour film? but I’ll totally watch 4 hours straight of a tv show.’ @budapestalloveragain‘s question: ramen or korean bbq? I feel so bad cos I haven’t tried either cos I just don’t eat food creatively (but Catherine is saying I should go with Korean BBQ)

MY QUESTION IS: aesthetic posts or gif set posts?

I tag @buchananbarnesjames and @vinterfalcons and @smilingkat

#my stuff

[wayneooverton]

All the mean, nasty and godawful hateful things people say to me online

Guys, why do people troll on the internet? Why are blogger hate comments a thing? Let this be the philosophical question of the day. Please, god, why? WHY? WHY?

And of all the people, why me? I’m a perfectly innocent little travel blogger over here, just minding my own business. The purpose of this blog is to inspire people to travel, what is so confronting about that? Move along. Why can people be so mean to me online? I don’t get it. I’m lovely, alright?

Just kidding. Sometimes I’m a shit stirrer. I stir the pot on purpose. If I see something I think is wrong, I say it. Also, god did not see fit to gift me with grace or tact. I am really good at regularly putting my foot in my mouth, often publicly. I also don’t know when to back away. And I’m cynical. Is this a recipe for a well-loved image? I’m not quite sure.

At least I’m real, right? Of all my flaws at least I like to think I’m authentic, the only truly honest blogger in a sea of vapid, shallow fools.

Stop talking, Liz. Like right now.

Anyways, it’s no secret, I get mean comments on the regular, so regular in fact that I have been doing annual round ups of the best mean comments I get every single year since 2012. I know I’m shamefully overdue on this post. I completely missed 2016.

2016 was an intense year for me, and when it came down to digging through comments looking for the horrible ones, I just couldn’t bring myself to go down that particular roller coaster. It was also the first year I started to get death threats. I just wasn’t in the mood. Can you forgive me?

Hate comments aren’t a novelty to me anymore, and they haven’t been for a long time. I’ve gotten tens of thousands of comments over the years, with a small percentage of them being ugly, and I’ve learned to just let them slide by in a giant wave of pity – I truly for sorry for anyone that takes the time to hate me so much online. Also, I’m probably laughing at you.

The best hate I got in 2015

The best hate I got in 2014

The best hate I got in 2013

The best hate I got in 2012

Also, I’ve really just stopped paying attention when people troll me; five years of regular trolls has given me armor. I went from being a delicate rose who bruised easily to a goddamn rhino. Go on, try and say something to mean to me. It can hardly be any worse that what I’ve gotten before.

And to be honest, it’s the same shit day in and day out. You’re privileged (yeah I know), you’re entitled (no I am not, thank you), you travel off your daddy’s money (HA, if you only knew…), you’re ugly, you’re fat, you’re stupid, you swear too much, you’re a know it all, you do this why don’t you do that, blah blah blah it never fucking ends.

Honestly, I yearn for the creative insults. I think my trolls have gotten lazy. Where’s the witty banter? The colorful backhanded comments? The passive aggressive DMs? They’ve disappeared into regular grammatically ugly “what a c*nt” and “how is this blog even popular” lazy comments. I mean for fuck’s sakes guys, if you’re gonna come for me, try a little.

But I digress. Back by popular demand, I’ve taken the time to dig through my work and find the best of the best blogger hate comments, the most entertaining, the ugliest, the cruelest, the worst hate comments I get just for you. Because at the end of the day, the only way we can deal with this BS is just to laugh. You’re welcome. Enjoy.

1. The most popular Facebook comment in response to an article about how I built my career in blogging

And if she wasn’t a young blond with a penchant for putting out to old men she’d be working at Officeworks for $15/hr

I want to start an argument about feminism here but just can’t be fucked.

2. And the second most liked comment on the same article 

The only thing worse than a human that resembles a vacuous opportunistic sponge is the plethora of parasites that aspire to be just that.

Just so we’re clear, I’m the sponge and you’re the parasite in this allegory.

3. Writing about how Jane Goodall inspires me to be better with conservation

You are not an “activist for saving the planet.” The number of flights you take each year creates more carbon emissions that most of us create in our LIVES. If you actually cared about the environment you would travel solely by bike and public transport with an occasional flight, not dozens of international flights a year. Get a grip.

I mean, fair point. I’d love some tips about biking overseas from the island of New Zealand where I live.

4. I really hate it when people don’t get sarcasm online on my how to cheat on Instagram

Teaching young people that life depends on Instagram. Thats great and people were wondering what was happening to our decaying society. Telling them that their popularity will increase if they sell their sexuality too. Wow what a true feminist you are. Pathetic. The whole millennial generation is going to be morally bankrupt.

I just facepalmed so hard.

5. Speaking of Instagram…

Not to be rude, just honest, but I noticed your photos have extremely low engagement for “168K” followers. I wonder if the companies who pay you notice this.

Guys, I’m literally one of the ONLY people who doesn’t cheat on Instagram! That’s why my engagement isn’t out of this world. But thanks for pointing that out.

6. That one time I wrote that Central Otago is one of the only regions in New Zealand that has four distinct seasons (which is true)

Seriously? The only region in New Zealand that experiences four distinct seasons? You need to travel more and drink less Pinot. I’m not even sure how I got your spam mail, but I live here, not just a FIFO tourist. If you want to trade travel stories, I’m sure you’ll lose.

You can’t make me drink less Pinot!!!! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!

7. When I wrote a million years ago about things that I hate that people do on airplanes

Sounds like a person who wrote the original article needs more than Ambien. probably could use some Xanax and some Prozac also. when you travel on a plane you know there is also something called other human beings. Get a grip. judging by your photo, You’re not that cute or anything special…..

Hope you find the help you need.

Kisses!

You know, funny story. One time in Bangkok I went to a pharmacy to get some sleeping pills for upcoming long haul flights – sometimes in Southeast Asia I can get strong sleeping pills over the counter. They gave me Xanax, no questions asked. Best flight ever. In fact, imagine if Xanax was provided on all long-haul flights. Who do I need to speak to about this?

8. Any time I provoke the vegans, one of my favorite pastimes 

Me: writes thousands of words about wildlife, travel, sustainable tourism practices or about anything really

All of the vegans: You should consider going vegan

Me: but, bacon? So tasty.

All of the vegans: PITCHFORKS AT ATTENTION!

As a close friend used to say, do not negotiate with terrorists, Liz.

9. When I wrote a blog post about how to move to New Zealand as American (if you need some entertaining, go read through the comments) which is a minefield!

It is not your home. even if you wish it was it’s not, it is new zealands home. fuck off to your own home. leave mine alone… just fuck off back to usa and leave nz to be nz. stop telling people how to get here, we don’t want you. most nzers hate americans, you are boring n have no sense of humour, just fuck off bck to usa and leave nzers to our own country, plus u don’t get my point cos u dumb american.if u don’t want to be thought of a american sterotype don’t act like dunb american cunt….you are such a dunb cunt. this is why we hate you.

I can’t look beyond the grammatical and spelling errors in this, honestly I tried, but I can’t.

Yes go ahead pls MOVE out from US we don’t need weak, pathetic, ignorant ppl here who need “safe-spaces” You have been brain washed by fake media like cnn, fox, abc etc for too long

I just can’t.

Congratulations on proving again that liberal thought is shallow and feelings-based. Too much reading making your head hurt?

I’m literally the biggest reader you’ve ever met. Don’t even.

I read the first couple of paragraphs and had to stop. As a Trump supporter, I am offended by your words and will now stop following you. It’s really too bad that you offend some of your followers, here I thought I was following a travel blog. Please do move to NZ, because America will be better off without you!!

It’s ok, I’m ashamed to have had you as a reader.

That response obviously shows why 20 something women shouldn’t even have the right to vote.

*Begins to pull hair out of own head*

Im just trying to save you from having to take depression medication for the rest of your life thats all. What are you on now Zoloft or Prozac?

Neither, unfortunately. I sure could use one after reading this.

10. I appeared in a big NBC Dateline special about American’s moving to New Zealand and man, that opened the floodgates of crazy

Stay out of America you traitor bitch.

This was the first of many comments calling me a traitor.

STAY OUT OF AMERICA YOU BITCH. HOPE A HOBBIT KILLS YOUR SORRY ASS CUNT.

LOL!!!

STAY OUT OF AMERICA YOU BITCH. I hope a sheep kills you and your family you faggot, the USA is the best country ever.

Me: I feel so sorry for you

I feel worse for you, you no good commie bastard. Stay out of my country and fuck off cunt. Fuck you you no life blogger get a real job.

Me: You feel better now?

Yes, I’m living in the US of A #MAGA fuck. Cuck.

Me: Well I feel better living in a place with people nicer than you. And I have healthcare. And I can spell.

BOOM! How’d they do? What’s the worst thing anyone has said to you online? Do you get trolled? How do you cope? Spill!

The post All the mean, nasty and godawful hateful things people say to me online appeared first on Young Adventuress.

from Young Adventuress http://ift.tt/2hA9518

[dwestfieldblog]

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MY AMORAL COMPASS

Back from a couple of weeks from the island...I managed to avoid watching any TV news whatsoever, but of course ended up going through a daily paper to catch up up the unfolding nightmares...The easy stuff first...the greeting phrase 'Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen' is no longer acceptable to use as an address to passengers on the London Underground...because of 'belonging to yesterday' and might be construed somehow as offensive to those with sex changes and those who are undetermined as to their gender. It has been substituted with 'Good morning everyone'. Hmm. Surely after having thought long and hard (arf) about about penis removal, vaginal implants and oestrogen supplements and the male right to wear female clothes OR vice versa etc etc, one would be HAPPY to be called that which the individual truly felt themselves to be? Political correctness is a soul numbingly ridiculous conceit which will lead to total destruction of sanity and will only breed deeper mistrust and hatreds among dangerous idiots. And a sense of misplaced righteous pride among those who seek to fill their time with utterly empty causes.

If you are a bisexual woman, you are a female. If you are a masculine lesbian, you are a female, If youare a cross-dressing man, you are a male in touch with your feminine side. If you are a homosexual man who takes the more 'submissive' role, you are a gay male.Etc etc. If you are pre Op, you are the sex your heart tells you you are, male or female. If you are a human being who could take actual offence at being called a lady or a gentleman, you are a moron.Well, then again, who likes being pigeon-holed eh?Arf. Next....

Brexit will apparently cost 36 billion pounds, WELL worth it eh? We will just have to print more notes on plastic paper. Every penny helps...and at least G.B got 3.5 billion quid from selling arms to Saudi Arabia, so we will only be morally bankrupt. Britain on the hunt for more useful cheap deals includes Chlorine dioxide washed chickens from the always healthy USA. Dr Fox of our government blustered that Americans have been eating such for years and there is nothing wrong with them... Ermmmm...Hmmm...Eventually we will find that Fox ends up on the board of chicken exporters. No puns needed. It's all foul:-) (Fowl, geddit?) How much of the imported chicken is real anyway? Pumped with water and antibiotics...Mc Donalds continue to advertise that their burgers are 100percent cow. Yes...hooves, tails, entrails and eyeballs all. But at least they are being truthful eh? Let's hope the politicians in the pay of Monsanto are the first to discover their grandchildren are born with three arms. (Or more likely, they only eat the expensive foods not imported for the proletariat.)

Speaking of antibiotics... the English newspapers were full of the 'new' idea that now, perhaps, maybe, people should not finish their course of such pills when they feel better. In direct contradiction to the accepted usual doctor's warning to take the full box/es to make sure. The building of resistance is growing. Another story mentioned that the regular drinking of alcohol can stave off future diabetes...I am only just starting to think (yes I am this slow) that doctors haveno real feckin idea about some basics, even after centuries of experiments on human white mice.

Meanwhile...Wu Xialou the three foot Chinese robot now in use, which can create arrest warrants and approve indictments...'Case management robots'...love the way they almost look friendly. Not long before Robocop is a reality. And AI goes all Terminator on us.

'When people who can read and write start fighting on behalf of people who can't, you just end up with another kind of stupidity. If you want to help them, build a big library or something somewhereand leave the door open'.   T.P   

So, one more time for the world...thrill at the possibilities of existence...

www.halexandria.org/home.htm

Meanwhile again, 'various' countries continue to respond to threats they themselves created in order to justify their heinous actions. Hello to Turkey, North Korea, Russia, the USA and...well,most countries have been doing this for a while. History is full of messianic little men with complexes wanting to make their country great. Hello Nero, Napoleon, Hitler, Stalin, Blair, Putin and Trump. How tall is Erdogan? Or the next guy...The Pilsbury Dough Boy/Kim Wrong Un has been rejoicing over his North Korean penis missile now being able to reach 6,200 miles. Hello America. Duck Fart's rhetoric matches Chairman Cheese's bizarre rants for rant. Little dogs like to make noise. 'Fire and fury' indeed. Yap yap yap, have them put down. (Using only sarcasm and satire of course. Wouldn't want the NSA to think I meant such admirable leaders should be shot like rabid canines. No sir.)

Referring to the situation, a spokesman for the Chinese government was quoted as saying; 'The man with nothing to lose does not fear the man with something to lose'. AKA'The barefoot man does not fear the man with no shoes'.

Donald actually referred to global warming as being a hoax invented by China. No, not fake news. Safe in a world where every president is as paranoid as the people.

POTUS/DOOFUS...arf...I saw a documentary last week which reminded me that good old boy President Nixon (a very honest guy) used to speak of himself often in the third person, just like Duck Fart continues to do. Draw your own conclusions on the wall in blood graffiti. But now, after many workplace postings of those 'absolutely qualified' to do their jobs and who, a few weeks later were sacked for following the law, or believing in their own importance more than paying obeisance to the president, the White House is now full of generals...(an 'axis of adults' as it has been described)... So, things are looking up eh? Obviously the world is far safer in the hands of those directly connected to the military industrial complex who follow the orders of a mentally unbalanced gurning egomaniac. And as for his plan to work with Russia on a 'cyber security unit'...'Not the dumbest idea I have ever heard, but it's pretty close', as a member of the Senate's armed services committee said. Yup.

Watch closely for his reactions to Russia's imminent massive wargames.... 100,000 soldiers to be in play on the Eastern side...Is this whereFinland, Estonia et al are invaded to protect the holders of Russian passports?

'There is nothing better than an external threat to keep everyone focused in the wrong direction'.

My last blog had wrong information, (aka; 'alternative facts') courtesy of Russian sources being quoted in the Western press, it seems that the Daesh death cult leader Baggy Daddy is still alive. Would have thought he was looking forward to fast track paradise but it appears that clinging to the desert like an infectious sand tick and having sex with kidnapped under aged girls is more preferable. Better luck next time says the unsmiling peace monger.

A true shame on Hindus in India for false accusations, leading to actual murder against Moslems for being rude in various ways to cows. Yes, yum yum cows. The killers have had no punishment whatsoever. Legal terms of imprisonment for killing a cow can be from 5 to 14 years (very reasonable eh?...whereas manslaughter can be 2 years. Nice to see a country who gave the world Yoga have such a balanced perspective.) The world expects this crap from other mainstream religions, not you.

Another TV reality show bites the big one...Eden. Paradise Lost...23 people (of course) agreed to be put into the Scottish highlands with the most basic tools, enough food for first 100 days. Of course they divided up fast into male/female Alphas/ Betas/Lord of the Flies factions and imploded fast into dire horribleness. If the future of our beautiful planet is to be decided/populated by those types who wantto be on television, we are absolutely fecked. Fecked is the mystery word tonight...it avoids me having to pretend to be polite and use asterisks, whilst retaining the clear meaning.  It has appeared due to me watching a great interview with Cillian Murphy.

Sherlock or Homeland,Boardwalk Empire, House of Cards, Peaky Blinders, Taboo,or Billions,better and better TV series, at last, great acting, direction and scripts, some real intelligence on television to balance the mass culture of dumbing down via the conspiracy of counter-evolution. But just maybe....

'Good and bad are fairy tales, we have evolved to attach an emotional significance to what is nothing more than the survival strategy of the pack animal'. We are conditioned to attach divinity to utility... good isn't really good, evil isn't really wrong...'The Holmes sister...

And now a long quote by a dead American genius, circa 1982.

‘’People are just not accustomed to excellence because, when you go to school you are not given the criteria by which to judge between quality this or quality that. All they do is teach you just enough to be some kind of a slug in a factory, to do your job so you can take home a pay check, and consume some other stuff that someone else makes.  The thing that separates Americans apart from the rest of the cultures in the world is we're so fukcing stupid. This country's been around for a couple hundred years and we think we're hot shit...we don't even realise that other countries have thousands of years of history and culture and they're proud of it, and when we deal on an international level with foreigners in policy...they must laugh up their sleeves at us because we are nothing. We are culturally nothing. We're only interested in the bottom line. And I think that a country that doesn't do something to sustain its culture, whatever it is, doesn't invest in it, doesn't keep it happening, isn't proud of it,maybe they just shouldn't exist, because its the culture and the beautiful things a society produces, those are the things which should survive for thousands of years, not the designer jeans.’’

Something almost normal, (for a change)...In the last blog I wrote that magpies sound like Edgard Varese...having spent a couple of weeks doing gardening in England, I will alter to that 'they sound exactly like a wire rake being scraped across concrete'. Check it out after you have spent an hour cutting down a ten foot hedge......

'the main object of the ego's desire to separate from the wave is to avoid death'

Walking around the streets and watching, sitting at home catching up on the newspapers...If Britain ever has to fight a war with soldiery again, we are surely doomed. There is a hollow which has been created in my country in the last few decades, an energy lost. Teach Bravery, Morality and determination at schools. The mass are hypnotised and malleable. Perhaps the freezing shower of Brexit will result in some type of revolution but we have undermined ourselves and are naked, wide open and powerless to be taken total advantage of...by both our former allies as well as our genuine enemies.

Getting closer to the future of serotonin, noradrenalin and dopamine in newborns to determine their predilection to becoming criminals/ rebels/ sociopaths/ musicians etc.  By 2023 don't be surprised if your baby is taken away for longer than normal and injected with extra balanced goodness at the same time as being implanted. A brave new world, right around the corner...Mind you (arf) most of us could do with more serotonin, might just make us evolve into better human beings...Speaking of which/witch....

www.RAWILLUMINATION.NET

Have fun, you astral kids...23 skiddoo and all hail Discordia....

How am I? Thank you for asking...I now have a new health problem to go with the six others...at some point all of them will make themselves felt at the same time as a new depression and I will do the holy deed (not a joke or a cry for help, just calmly factual) but not just yet. 37 songs recorded so far in 12 five hour sessions...I have decided on one more session of recording to finish the two double cds, plus an extra cd of strange things and am doing the next book while there is 'time'. Apparently, I am a 'romanticist' and 'libertarian'. Loved the way the first epithet was used in a very negative way by a religious pragmatist.I am just optimistic enough to believe that human entropy can be avoided...the pessimist occasionally wonders if extinction is also a type of evolution. Dancers on a postcard to the unusual address...Deliver us from evil, for WE are the power and the glory.

'I remember when all this will be again'.

Lucid Dreaming in the Sky with ....Maybe a lover losing control, maybe the moonlight of alcohol. Maybe the temple of a mystic cabal, maybe the muse of a young femme fatale..

.Holy days over...time to go back to school...bunk off and self educate...it never did me no harm eh? See you after the autumnal equinox...Love. Love more.