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msfilmdiary · 3 years

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Marie Antionette (2006)

Starring Kirsten Dunst, Jason Schwartzman, Asia Argento, Judy Davis, Rip Torn, Rose Byrne, Molly Shannon, Shirly Henderson, Marianne Faithfull, Jamie Dornan, Steve Coogan, Danny Huston, Sebastian Armesto, Al Weaver, and Mary Nightly

Screenplay by Sofia Coppola and Antonia Fraser

Directed by Sofia Coppola

Cinematography by Lance Accord

I do not own any of the pictures posted.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Marie Antionette is a historical drama period film written and directed by Sofia Coppola. Based on the life of the so-called “Queen of Debt” Marie Antionette in the years leading up to the French Revolution, the film follows her life before and during her life in crumbling France.

Fourteen-year-old (I know, fourteen) Marie Antionette is the beautiful, but culturally naive Archduchess of Austria, the youngest of Maria-Theresa’s daughters. As she is the only one left of her sisters that is not married, she is sent by her mother to marry the Dauphin of France, the future Louis XVI of France, to create an alliance between the two countries.

Marie travels to France and relinquishes all her connections to her home country, including her pet pug. She meets Louis XVI, and they are married at once. They are encouraged to produce an heir to the throne, but the next day, it is reported that “nothing happened” on the wedding night.

As the film passes, Marie concludes life at the court of Versailles stiffening. Her husband’s courtiers disdain her as a foreigner, blaming her for not producing an heir, although the fault lands within her husband, as the marriage remains unconsummated for an inordinate amount of time.

The French court continues to gossip about Marie, as she constantly ignores ritualistic formality among them. Marie also refuses to meet or even speak to Jeanne Becu, Comtesse du Barry, the King’s mistress.

As the years pass, Marie Theresa continues to write her daughter, giving advice on how to seduce Louis XVI. Marie’s attempts to consummate with her husband remained unfulfilled, and the marriage remains childless, while France remains heirless.

Marie spends most of her time buying extravagant clothes, gambling, and partying. After a masquerade ball attended by both Marie and Louis, they return to find that the King was dying of smallpox. He dies, and Louis, 19 is crowned King of France, while Marie, 18, is crowned Queen.

Marie’s brother, Joseph II of the Holy Roman Empire comes to visit and counsels her against her lavish spending and partying, which she ignores. He also meets with Louis at the Royal Zoo and explains to him how the “mechanics” of sexual intercourse work in terms of “key making,” as locksmithing keys are his favorite hobby.

After the King and Marie have sex for the first time, ultimately consummating their marriage. Nine months later, Marie gives birth to a daughter, Princess Marie Therese Charlotte of France. As the child matures, Marie begins to spend much of her time at the Petit Trianon, a small chateau in the park of Versailles. She later begins an affair with Axel Fersen, who she met at the masquerade ball.

France’s financial crisis worsens, and the food storages and riots increase, and by this point, her public image has completely deteriorated. Due to her lavish spending and lifestyle, she has earned herself the name “Madame Deficit.”

As she matures, she focuses less on her lavish lifestyle and more on her family, making financial adjustments as needed. A year after her mother’s death, she gave birth to a son, Louis-Joseph, the Dauphin of France. She also gives birth to another son, Louis Charles, and another daughter, Princess Sophie, who dies a month after her first birthday.

As the French Revolution erupts and many storm Versailles, the royal family resolves to stay in France, which ultimately leads to their inevitable downfall in history. Rioting Parisians force the family to leave Versailles for Paris, and the film ends with the royal family’s transfer to Tuileries. The last image is a shot of Marie’s bedroom in Versailles in pieces and destroyed by angry rioters.

There’s something just so beautiful about Sofia Coppola’s films. I think Coppola does a fantastic job of humanizing historical figures in the film, whether they deserve it or not. Although, I will say, Marie Antionette plays more like a music video than I believe a historical film, and I understand the historical criticisms of the film, due to its absence of political context.

I think the film is the world in Marie Antionette’s perspective, as she is very naive politically, socially, and culturally. Intermixing the Bow Wow Wow’s “I Want Candy” while showcasing a montage of cakes, champagne, and shoes, describe what Marie Antoinette saw royalty as, nothing less than a shopping spree, rather than leading the people of France out of ruin.

There’s something to be said about the little dialogue in Coppola’s films. I’ve noticed this in certain films aside from Marie Antoinette, like in The Virgin Suicides or The Beguiled. I think she does this completely on purpose. In these films, the setting tells a story more than the dialogue does. The beauty and lavishness, but also the mystery behind all of it, is more important than the characters' interaction with each other. In Marie Antionette in particular, we see many interactions between characters, but they are non-confrontational rather than belligerent, with actions such as slide-glances or whispers. Coppola does not allow dialogue to interfere with the setting, or event storyline for that matter, which I think as a director, must be very difficult to do.

There’s also something to be said about the subtle changes in coloring in Coppola’s films. I noticed this in The Virgin Suicides as well. After a dramatic event in her films, the coloring deteriorates into a blue-green tint. In Marie Antoinette, this is noticeable when she and the King fall out of favor with the people of France.

The film in itself masks the problems proceeding to the French Revolution. The clothes, the parties, the affairs, all mask the real issues retaining to the backbone of the French Revolution. In the modern-day soundtrack, even one could argue the so-called “humanistic” view of Marie Antionette would be considered hiding behind the truth.

Marie Antoinette is fun, lively, but I would argue, not historically accurate. Even Coppola herself stated that she was interested in showing “the real human behind the myths.” Which, in perspective, does exactly that. It showcases Marie Antoinette’s spirit, and her naivety which leads to her inevitable downfall, and the inevitable downfall of France’s royal empire.

So, is Coppola’s version of history correct? Should we sympathize with a young Marie Antionette? Or was the world done with powerful monarchs?

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the-mandalorian-clone-lover · 4 years

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Masterlist

Hey everyone! So, somehow, I have talked myself into making a Masterlist of my writing (mostly to keep track of Aces in Spaces but now that I’m posting some of my other writing as well I figured it was for the best. HUGE thank you to @housekenobi for the headers I am absolutely in love with them.

Author notes are on each fic, these are just links to them.

Soft Reading (Oberyn x Fem!Reader in an established relationship, he’s reading to you on a warm night after you’ve had a rough day)

Help by way of a Flower (Oberyn x Fem!Reader in an establisted relationship, he wants to help you when you suffer with writers block)

Welcome Home (Agent Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x fem!Reader, he’s just come back from a 3 month mission)

New Beginnings (Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x Reader, he's made the decision to give up being an agent, and he has a little surprise for you too)

Jack Daniels Vs John Wayne (Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x reader, little bit of found family, lot bit of fluff, spending a day with Jack and watching movies)

Shenanigans (Platonic Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, set toward the very beginning of the war, reader is 12 and proud to be earning scars in battle, fluff)

Rescue and Safety (Platonic Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, set mid-warish, reader is about 14, mention of the Bad Batch from the Clone Wars show, reader goes to a sleepover and it doesn’t quite go as planned. Turns out Dad General Kenobi has a plan to help)

Warm Familiarity (Platonic Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, Set in during the war, reader is 14 and has started a routine with the troopers that Obi-Wan is unaware of, codywan is less than a squint away and lots of fluff)

Slow Reflections (Platonic Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, Set during the war, reader is 15 and feeling very introspective. Obi-Wan is a typical dad and distracts, Cody spills the tea, more codywan cause they should get to be happy, fluff)

Mutual Comfort (Platonic Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Fem!Reader, comforting each other after Order 66 by retelling old stories to help you both laugh, reader is about 16)

Comfort and Reconciliation (Platonic Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, set on Tatooine, and how Cody came to find them after leaving the Empire, reader is 17, fluff)

Old Beginnings and New Endings (Platonic Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, set on Tatooine, several years after Cody returned, another companion comes to find out small family, reader is 21, fluff)

Mind Ones Own Business (Platonic Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, set on Tatooine, Obi being a parent, Cody being a Fun parent, set a few days after Old Beginnings and New Endings, as always, fluff)

The family we know (and the feelings we don't) Pt. 1 (Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, set on Tatooine, Cody is meddling)

The family we know (and the feelings we don't) Pt. 2 (Obi-Wan x Padawan!Fem!Reader, set on Tatooine, Obi-Wan is also meddling

(Created by @rentskenobi ):

Alex Law and Autumn (gn reader)

Roman and Red (fem!reader for mention of a dress)

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yellow (gn reader)

Chapter 1 Erica tells Roman she is Asexual (or Erica almost panics, Roman panics back, and then they talk like adults)

Chapter 2 Roman asks Erica about sharing her Asexuality (or, Butcher learns Roman can sing and Roman gets embarrassed)

Chapter 3 Roman gives Butch the run down on Asexuality (or, Romans high School speech classes finally come in handy, and Butch laughs at him for being obsessed with a clicker)

Chapter 4 Erica and Roman go for a walk and find unexpected things (or, Roman learns that sometimes dates can be just feeling grass and listening)

Chapter 5 Roman visits the support group along with Butch (or, Roman does extensive research, and Butch gets a date for his (lack of) trouble)

Chapter 6 Roman and Erica have a late night adventure (or, ice cream makes everything better even nightmares)

Chapter 7 Erica finds out about the support group and Roman has some things to explain (or, Erica learns that not every man is the same)

Chapter 8 Erica gets to go to the support group herself (or, Erica learns that she's not the only one Roman is positively affecting)

Chapter 9 Roman and Erica join Butcher and Hannah for a double date (or, Roman uselessly refuses to wear cowboy boots and spins the entire night looking at his wife girlfriend)

Chapter 10 Butcher and Hannah go on a date of their own (or, Hannah steals a piece of fabric that she feels should belong to her anyway)

Chapter 11 Roman and Erica celebrate their 7th month anniversary and Butcher does something Erica doesn't expect (but does appreciate) (Or, Butch finally gets to throw hands for Aces and Erica gets to be protected)

Chapter 12 Erica says something to Roman that he’s thrilled to hear (or, Erica says her first I love you)

Chapter 13 Erica puts into words what she meant to say the first time (or, Erica is equally if not more sappy than Roman and it's all the Legos™ fault)

Chapter 14 Roman and Erica take another step in their relationship (or, Roman commits the great scandal of nearly ordering Chinese food instead of tacos, and Erica has no problem laughing at him)

Chapter 15 Butcher has a question for Hannah this time (or the two of them shipping other ppl finally spilled over into being shipped themselves)

Chapter 16 Roman and Erica have a discussion and keep trusting each other (or both of them are awkward about moving in together and Erica's boss is an adorable grandpa)

Chapter 17 Roman and Erica have their first sleepover at Roman’s house (or Roman advocates spilling tea and having soft slow mornings because he isn't awake yet)

Chapter 18 Erica has to face her fear, and Roman has to help her through it (or, Erica acts like she had a breakup by way of nearly shaving her head, and Butcher decides cake and singing are the way to fix it)

Chapter 19 Butcher and Hannah reflect on one of their favorite days together (or, Butcher almost cried again because he's soft and Hannah is even now plotting another favorite day)

Chapter 20 Roman and Erica trust each other on a new level (or Erica plays videogames too much and Roman is an innocent church lady)

Chapter 21 Erica has to face one of her fears and learns something about her relationship with Roman (or, An old guy won't take a hint, Butch Isn't Gonna Take It™, and Roman wishes he had a codeword)

Chapter 22 Roman asks Erica about marriage again (or Roman likes reminding Erica he'll love her forever and Erica wants to know what rotten potatoes have to do with that)

Chapter 23 Roman learns again that as much as Erica is trusting him, he's trusting her more (or Erica deals with someone breaking and entering in a nice way and Roman frets over nothing)

Chapter 24 Erica and Roman are doing more business things, and Erica decides she's had about enough (not of Roman, though he is about to faint from shock)

Chapter 25 Roman and Erica get into aggressive negotiations around their fifth year anniversary and Butcher is fanboying so hard (or, Erica decides all at once and has always known she'd marry Roman and Butch tries to get them to stand still long enough to make it official)

Chapter 26 Pt. 1 2 3

#masterlist #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #oberyn x reader #aces in spaces #original fic #some original characters #nobody look please #moodboards #obi-wan kenobi x reader #roman sionis x reader #alex law x reader #headcannons #stories #platonic pairing #codywan

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oboeneedle88 · 3 years

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Birthday Party Games - Add Extra Fun On To The Child's Day

2) At the age you need to definitely consider a great boy or all girl kids party. After the age of 5 girls usually need to do different activities from boys. It's not necessary to have a gender specific party nevertheless it can lead to the planning easier. He announced since Excellent writing music, I could create individual music and record a CD . Claire then chipped in point out that she knew a music-publishing studio where We could record the song and have been it produced. I thought it was a beneficial idea and Claire immediately called her friend to book the studio. She'd heard me perform often and felt that I could possibly even sell my songs in the long run.

For your 21s birthday party, you would be celebrating with along with friends, and require to have a proper party. You might choose to require a party at home, and invite people round, or maybe you'll employ a party venue, and have a theme with each other. Birthday song The city was proclaimed capital of Vietnam in 1945. Hanoi managed for some years to keep her beautiful architecture escalating a fine and enduring example of French colonial buildings and sensibility. The actual American War, US bombing did sever damage intercourse is a parts of this city but the worst of this has been repaired and restored to its former wonder. Spread along the Song Hong (Red River) town is only hitting its new millennium stride finally. There are skyscrapers filling the sky rapidly but there remains much charm and originality in area. This regarding gift wonderful for for friends or couples. Choose songs which have special meaning in your relationship. For anyone who is giving the CD to be able to spouse, would be the song that played a great deal more first danced or the song that played an individual proposed. If it's for a friend, put songs a person can both like listening to when are usually in vehicle or compile the songs that your friend likes but are included various CDs, a person are also put songs that the friend haven't heard of before, but you're particular your friend would get pleasure from. Just remember in which it is the other person's CD and not yours, so be positive the choice of songs will be always to the person's liking. Un-occupied children cause havoc. It was un-occupied children that caused the downfall of the Roman Empire, the Black Plague, both World Wars, Country and Western Music and the invention of this musical doorbell. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0iG21I5ZQM The good the card dates in order to about 200 years, and also the first cards were mailed in England more than 100 in the past. It has been said that birthday cards are created for well-wishing a 1 or a friend, especially during his special ceremony. During the earliest connected with personalized and painted greeting cards, getting sent to be able to person was expensive. However if postage stamps were introduced, mailing homemade cards and birthday cards became affordable. Which probably explains why almost everybody sends them out Happy Birthday song every year. When which "Happy birthday to you" were added towards tune remains something on the mystery. Just what known with regards to it is that by 1935 the birthday song became such associated with popular culture that its copyright was purchased your Summy Company. The act of giving a homemade cake can be a gift also. It makes the receiver feel specialized. Additionally, it is a thoughtful connected with showing love, gratitude or appreciation to someone. The entire process might sound daunting however in the end, the difficulties you experienced will pay off when backseat passengers . that you've someone relieved. Anniversary DVDs can be valuable for some reasons. Most couples usually only obtain the tape of the wedding to exhibit them sharing special moments together, model of no believe this should be the state of affairs. They could also have anniversary DVDs for every year they are married. It might be a communication to each other on their anniversary as they celebrate it together. Might have a wedding anniversary party annually to celebrate another year of being together. Anniversary DVD's are an excellent way to consider everyone around them much more they love each added. At the beginning with the DVD, take a moment to reflect back on their own wedding afternoon. Record their favourite song, pictures from the wedding party, the place that they got married at, and good deal more. This will set the mood and increase DVD substantially memorable.

#Happy birthday song #happy birthday #happy birthday song remix

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infinitelytheheartexpands · 3 years

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My laptop is currently updating, so while I have that working in the background, I wanted to share a series of six short, mostly-opera-inspired autobiographical narratives/prose poems I wrote last April and May:

I would kill to have some wine right now.

There is a bottle of red wine sitting on the kitchen counter. My father bought it when he went to the store the other day─ don’t ask me what day it was, I don’t remember, the days already blend together as is─ and I have considered pouring even just a little bit into a glass and downing it.

And then proceeding to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it.

I’ve been contemplating doing that a lot lately.

True, I would kill to have some wine, but if I did go ahead and pour even just a little bit into a glass, and down it, and possibly then proceed to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it, I would most likely be killed before I had the chance to kill.

Kill or be killed. We are all trying our very best to do neither these days, but it happens anyway.

I am sixteen years old. As I start writing this, I am nine days away from turning seventeen. For me, alcohol consumption is thus not only not approved by the Parents, but also illegal. But then again, so is voting blue in the 2020 US Presidential election. That is also something neither approved by the Parents nor legal for me. But I digress.

Thirty-one, twenty-nine, thirty-one again, sixteen now, that makes sixty, ninety-one, one hundred and seven days since I watched one of my classmates get drunk at a New Year’s Eve party. She downed a whole bottle of peach wine (I didn’t even know that was a thing) and looked at me with her red eyes and silver-sequined halter top and curly dark brown hair in a high ponytail. You’re more beautiful than Jesus she told me and you’ll go to the moon on a rocketship. I laughed.

I laugh when something’s so unexpected I can’t do anything else. I laughed when I first heard Notre Dame Cathedral had caught fire because it seemed so ludicrous that I couldn’t do anything else. Notre Dame on fire? You can’t be serious, it can’t be serious.

It was serious.

I’m not sure if she was.

A little part of me wishes she were.

When I was in sixth grade, I told the same girl I thought her hair was luscious. Sixth-grade me didn’t know the word had a sexual connotation; the girl did and was offended.

Maybe a little part of me did know, somehow.

***

As I write this next part, I am working on a paper about state-sponsored censorship. I have picked this topic because it is a fascinating topic, it fits the requirements for the paper─ write about a major global problem─, and because I feel censored myself.

Expressing anything that conflicts with the Parents’ thoughts and opinions is strictly forbidden. If you are different, you are ostracized. I am different, so I am ostracized.

I am too proud, too strong to succumb. But it still hurts.

As I write this, I am listening to Act IV of Rossini’s Guillaume Tell, an opera about liberation, appropriate for both me and my paper. At this moment, Hedwige is calling on God, ‘the hope of the hopeless’, to save her husband and break the yoke of oppression that binds Switzerland.

It’s very nice, and the sentiment is good and true, and it works for her and Mathilde and Jemmy and the Swiss women, but it does not work for me. I lost my faith a long time ago. Ironically, it is French grand opéra, the genre to which Guillaume Tell belongs, that is partially responsible for my loss of faith.

It was impossible for me to watch Verdi’s Don Carlos for the first time in eighth grade and Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots in tenth and not be horrified by the things people do in the name of religion, to kill people senselessly just because they believe slightly differently than them─ even their own daughters (as is the finale of Les Huguenots).

How can a good God allow such things?

Do I realize these works are fictional? Yes. But do I know they are based on history, on real events? Yes.

“These things are meant to happen; they are all in God’s plan.” Well, can God just not find another way to make what’s meant to happen happen? I cannot believe in a God that allows these things to happen. To say that an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good God who can allow such things exists is a lie.

***

Now that Guillaume Tell is over, I am listening to another grand opéra, Les vepres siciliennes, albeit in its Italian version, I vespri siciliani. Another opera about occupation and liberation, but a liberation that comes at a horrible cost: the entire French ruling class is massacred by the Sicilians at the end of the opera.

If I didn’t care, I would stage my own personal ‘massacre’: I would turn my back, walk out the front door with the possessions I most needed to survive on my own, and never come back.

But I do care. They may not care, but I do.

One of my greatest curses is that I care about what I care about too much. My heart is too deep to not care.

There are some battles that are not worth being fought.

If a massacre is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing. Or, at least try to find another way.

Right now, I am at the beginning of Act III, at Monforte’s aria “In braccio alle dovizie”. In the original French, it’s called “Au sein de la puissance”. At the breast of power.

Monforte is the hated French governor of Sicily, the revolutionaries’ primary target. When he sings this, he has just learned that one of the main revolutionaries, Arrigo, is his long-lost illegitimate son.

By rape.

‘The breast of power’ indeed.

Just like with a massacre, if rape is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing either.

Just a thought.

I’m a woman. What do I know, in the eyes of many out there?

One of my friends said that Verdi gave Monforte his just deserts, but also overly beautiful music. “He couldn’t help it, though, not when his Dad Music Instincts were activated.”

I feel guilty listening to the aria, even though it is truly a beautiful piece and the recording I’m listening to─ a 1989 recording from the Teatro alla Scala, with Giorgio Zancanaro as Monforte─ is absolutely gorgeous.

Can we separate the music from the character, the art from the artist? I do not know. Everyone has something utterly heinous to someone else. Once we stop separating the art from the artist, where do we begin again? And yet, I do not want to support people who do horrible things to others.

Perhaps it is all relative.

Perhaps everything is.

Perhaps nothing is absolute at all.

That frightens me.

***

Today is Rome’s 2,773rd birthday. As a six-year Latin student and future classics and history double-major, this is cause for celebration.

If things were normal and I were at school, my Latin teacher would bring birthday cake for all the Latin students, and we’d eat it and sing “Felix dies natalis, Roma”. Happy Birthday, Rome.

But things are not normal, and I’m at home multitasking between this and a presentation script for that paper, and still listening to I vespri siciliani.

Now I’m at the end of Act IV. Everyone is celebrating the impending marriage of Arrigo to Duchess Elena, one of the Sicilian revolutionary leaders. Sicilian and French, united at last. Everything is set to work out.

But there’s still Giovanni da Procida, the other major revolutionary leader, who is hellbent on revenge. He sees this wedding as the perfect opportunity to strike down the French once and for all.

And thus, the massacre.

Everything can be set to work out, but there is always something that comes up. A massacre, a pandemic, a set of internal troubles that bring a proud empire to its ruin.

Now I’m in Act V, at Elena’s bolero ‘Merce, dilette amiche’. She has no idea about Procida’s plans; she’s just excited to marry Arrigo and bring peace to her beloved Sicily at last. I think I’m going to change operas again after this is over; the act is rather uneven (though I still very much like it) and I would prefer not to listen to everything falling apart today.

I debate listening to Berlioz’s Les Troyens, the closest thing to an opera about the founding of Rome and a masterpiece itself. But there is still too much about collateral damage for my tastes today: one kingdom falls and another loses its benevolent queen, all in the name of a supposedly greater destiny. And that’s just based on the first third of the Aeneid. I wrote an essay about that first third once for English class, using that thesis; my English teacher said it was one of the best essays he’d ever read. But I digress.

After a quick refresher on the synopsis, I decide to change styles and go with a story from the heyday of the Roman Empire: Handel’s Agrippina. Lots of plotting, but everyone gets what they want in the end and it ends happily for all. No collateral damage here. I am weary of that.

Sometimes I feel like collateral damage.

It’s tough to remember that you’re the master of your own story, not just a side character or a scapegoat in so many others’.

Everyone in this opera knows they’re the masters. That’s the problem. But it ultimately works out.

I want nothing more than for it to work out for me. It hasn’t yet.

But I have a feeling it will.

***

I got maybe halfway through the first act of Agrippina yesterday. I love Baroque opera, but I guess only in small doses.

No matter.

Today I’m listening to the beginning of Act II of Verdi’s Don Carlo. This is the fourth time in a row I’ve listened to it.

I read John Green’s Turtles All The Way Down recently. The main character frequently finds herself stuck in ‘thought spirals’, where she keeps thinking more and more about the same thing. I have those too, although I tend to picture my mind more as a bullet train: it always moves hundreds of miles an hour, faster than I can control, from one thought to the next. I constantly find myself retracing the figurative map of my mind to figure out what I was thinking about, what I need to remember but simply cannot. And it’s like my mind keeps returning to the same stations a lot; these are my equivalent to the spirals.

This opera, this moment, is one of my frequent stations.

Make that five times in a row now. This will be the last, I promise myself.

In this scene, a group of monks chant, praying for the rest of the dead Emperor Charles V, whom, I note with a smile, was himself a character in one of Verdi’s earliest operas, Ernani. In that opera, he sings an aria where he confronts his destiny as the next Holy Roman Emperor. My legacy will live throughout the ages, he sings.

Including in two different Verdi operas.

But there I go again on another bullet-train route.

The monks are singing now, their stark minor-major shifts making me feel as if I am there, in the cloister of San Yuste or in any of the great cathedrals of Spain, looking up into the vaults of the ceiling, of heaven itself, seemingly. The only lights come from candles in my mental picture, and I gaze up, my head uncovered, my mind only partially spellbound, more by the visual beauty and the history than by any religious feeling.

I am a heathen.

I have only been inside a Catholic church once, when I was fourteen; it was an impromptu side trip during a school-sponsored tour of colleges in St. Louis. One of the chaperones said the Cathedral Basilica had can’t-miss art, and thus managed to get a large section of the attendees to come with her.

She was right. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. And that was all I thought.

Okay, that’s a lie. I did wonder what it would be like to be able to have faith again, to be able to kneel in one of the pews, and pray, and believe, as my ancestors have done before me; after all, if religion were something you inherited in your blood, then I would be half-Catholic.

But I cannot kneel and pray and believe.

In this scene, one of the monks claims that Charles V fell because he was too proud, because he believed that he was greater than God. If a god exists, I do not claim to be greater than them. I am not perfect, not by a long shot.

He did not die because he did not believe in God. He died because everyone dies, even those who are supposedly the greatest of us.

God alone is great, the monk proclaims. I do not, cannot believe that. We are all great to begin with, but some of us are led to believe we are not.

We are the masters. I must remember that.

And I realize that I have let it play a sixth time.

Sometimes I am not the master of my own mind.

***

The sixth time was the last.

Now I am at the end of the act, listening to the showdown between Filippo II, King of Spain, and Rodrigo, Marquis di Posa. Filippo is the guardian of the way things are; Verdi called Rodrigo an anachronism, and indeed, he was the only principal character who never existed.

Rodrigo, he said, was at least two centuries ahead of his time.

I don’t know what exactly Verdi’s feelings were about this, but personally, I do not think this is a bad thing. Progressivism is often progressivism in any age.

At any rate, Rodrigo, who has recently returned from Spanish-held Flanders, has taken his chance─ a rare private meeting with the King, who is confused as to why Rodrigo has never approached him for favors like all the other courtiers─ to confront him about the horrific conditions of Flanders and its people. Give them liberty, he pleads.

No. I have given them the same peace I have given Spain.

A horrible peace!, Rodrigo fires back. The peace of the tomb!

We should not have to suffer until death.

Let history not say of you, “He was a Nero.” A murderer of innocents, a torturer of the defenseless, an occupier, a denier of liberty─ perhaps the greatest torture of all.

I once watched a video in which a director said, “To live in an occupied country is to live only half a life.” I would say that to live in an occupied country, or even any place where you cannot be free, cannot live fully as yourself, is not even that. It is to barely live at all. It is to merely have a beating heart and breath.

To live in spite of this, to simply be as you wish, is the ultimate act of defiance.

#notyouraveragejulie writes #(or rather reads old writing)#writing #poetry #poems #prose poems #autobiographical narratives #life in the time of COVID #opera #opera tag #censorship #freedom #also the author would like to note that this was written *before* she saw Agrippina and loved it so those comments aren't 100% accurate now

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Rome 49BC: Order from Chaos

Two thousand years ago, at the dawn of the first century, the world was ruled from Rome. Rome was in turmoil. Civil war had engulfed the empire’s capital city. Dictators seized power, and the Roman future seemed bleak. But from the chaos, the Roman Empire would rise stronger and more dazzling than ever before. Within a few short years, it would stretch from Britain, across Europe, to southern Egypt, from North Africa around the Mediterranean, to the Middle East. It would embrace hundreds of languages and religions and would till those diverse cultures into a rich soil, from which western civilizations would grow. Rome would become the world’s first and most enduring super power, spanning continents. The glory days of Rome were studded with names that reach out to us across two millennia: Ovid and Nero, Seneca and Caligula. But the story of Rome is more than the story of famous men. Millions of less familiar figures struck different chords in the symphony of empire. People such as the wealthy benefactor, Umachia. The rebel queen, Boudicca, and countless uncelebrated soldiers and slaves, senators and peasants.

Above them all, is this man, Caesar Augustus. This was the emperor who set the tone for the astonishing renaissance of Rome.

Part one of my history tells the story of Augustus, (the great-grandfather of my 51st great granduncle) and his people, the men and women who wrested order from chaos. They shaped the greatest empire the world has ever seen and launched the Roman Empire in the first century.

Two thousand years after Egypt’s pharaoh’s reigned supreme, four hundred years after the flowering of Greek culture, three hundred years after Alexander the great - a boy named Octavian was born in a small Italian town. The child would one day be called Augustus, and his birth, one ancient historian tells us, would be gilded by legend. His father, leading an army through distant lands, went to a sacred grove, seeking prophecy on the boy’s future. When wine was poured on the altar, flames shot up to heaven. The signs were heard only once before, by Alexander the Great. The priest declared that Augustus would be ruler of the world.

Suetonius tells the story. Writing at the turn of the first century, he based his biography on eyewitness accounts, on common gossip and on research conducted as imperial librarian. In truth, he writes that the prospects of young Augustus were far from grand. The boy was sickly, with few connections. His family were country people. His father was the first in their line to join the Senate. But worse - Augustus was born into dangerous times. Civil war had flared for decades. Feuding nobles fought to gain power for themselves. And Rome’s traditions of open government were often trampled underfoot. So too, were innocent bystanders. When Augustus was just four years old, his father suddenly died. Without a male mentor, the boy’s future looked bleak. But in 49 BC, when he was thirteen, Augustus’ fortunes took a dramatic turn. For in that year, his great uncle, Julius Caesar, gained the upper hand on the battlefield. Leading an army across the Rubicon River, Caesar declared himself master of Rome and ruler of an empire still aspiring to greatness. At the time of Julius Caesar, the Roman Empire was a bit like a boy who has reached six feet tall, yet he’s only fourteen or fifteen years old. He’s not yet a man. The externals of empire were there - the armies were there. The Romans governed most of the coast of the Mediterranean, with the exception of Egypt. However, they had not yet learned to bring that into a functioning organism. The past decades of internal fighting had weakened the empire. Northern tribes harried the borders. Enemies were confronting Rome in the east. And the province of Spain threatened to break free. Julius Caesar moved quickly to bolster the frontiers, and his own legacy. Caesar had no heir, so when Augustus completed a dangerous mission, Caesar adopted the teenager in his will. Karl Galinsky, Professor of Classics, University of Texas, Austin:

“Augustus realized this was a tremendous opportunity. Mind you, he had no military training, but he was the heir of the greatest political figure that was under the Roman sky at that time - and he cashed in on it.”

It was a heady opportunity for Augustus, but also a perilous challenge. For in 44 BC, foreigners were not the only threat to stability. There were enemies within Caesar’s small circle of advisors. They murdered Caesar at a meeting of the Senate. For the second time in his life, Augustus lost a father. Now, on the verge of manhood, he thrust himself into the maelstrom of Roman politics. Keith Bradley, Professor of Greek and Roman Studies, University of Victoria:

“The death of Julius Caesar was not just a turning point in Augustus’ life, it was a turning point in world history. Augustus was extremely young at this time, only in his nineteenth year. Yet when he knew that he had been made Caesar’s heir, he immediately took up the political legacy of Caesar. He entered the mainstream of Roman politics. He didn’t hesitate to try to avenge his father. That meant, of course, stepping onto the stage of politics, raising an army and immersing himself in a contest for supreme political power in Rome.”

He displayed brutality against enemy prisoners. Once, when a father and son were begging for their lives, he ordered that they should draw lots to determine which one should be executed. The father offered himself and was killed. Because of this, the son committed suicide. Augustus watched them both die. Suetonius describes the crisis as “trial by fire” and Augustus didn’t flinch from the task. He formed a strategic alliance with Marc Antony, a powerful general, who also wanted supremacy. Together they massacred their enemies in the capital. Then they pursued their rivals to the shores of Greece, where they fought and won two of the bloodiest battles in Roman history. When the carnage ended, the empire was theirs. Augustus and Antony divided the spoils of war. Augustus remained in Rome. But Antony took control of Egypt, a land not formally joined to Rome, but firmly under the empire’s command. There, he joined forces with Egypt’s queen. Ancient historians, like Cassius Dio, believed that was a fateful move. When Antony fell deeply in love with his new ally, many feared the ambitious queen was scheming to rule Rome herself. Her name was Cleopatra. Cleopatra’s brazen desire for passion and wealth was insatiable. By love, she had made herself queen of Egypt. But she failed in her goal to become queen of the Romans. Judith P. Hallett, Professor of Classics, University of Maryland, College Park:

“Cleopatra did not enjoy a good press in Rome. What really irritated people about Cleopatra was that she was a powerful woman from the east, and from a very wealthy country with a monarchic system of government. She therefore symbolized lack of moderation, lack of control, frenzied fury, everything that Rome tried not to be. Cleopatra and Antony were cast as leaders of the evil empire.” Antony’s alliance with Augustus withered. But Augustus struck first. The poet, Virgil, later cast the battle as an epic struggle of east against west. “Standing high on the stern, Augustus leads the Italians into battle. Carrying with him the bite of the Senate and the people. Opposing him, with barbarian wealth, is Antony, suited for battle. He carries with him the powers of the orient. And to the scandal of all, his Egyptian wife, their monstrous divinities raised weapons against our noble, Roman gods.” Three quarters of the Egyptian fleet was destroyed. Anthony and Cleopatra committed suicide - and the land of the pharaohs was formally annexed to the Roman Empire. Judith Hallet:

“The annexation of Egypt for Augustus was immensely important. It was the equivalent of Hitler’s troops marching through the streets of Paris. Here was a wealthy country that was going to be providing food, that was going to be providing land. But above all, it was a country of great cultural prestige, and once Rome had Egypt as part of its empire, they had truly arrived.”

A Voice:

“There is nothing that man can wish from the gods, nothing the gods can do for men which Augustus, when he returned to the city, did not do for the public, the Roman people, and the entire world. Civil wars were finished - foreign wars ended and everywhere the fury of arms was put to rest.” Upon Augustus’ return to a war torn Rome in 29 BC, the city went wild with enthusiasm. The triumphant general vowed to restore peace and security. It was a promise he would keep. The victory of Augustus launched a period of stunning cultural vitality, of religious renewal and of economic well being that spread throughout the empire. It would be called the ‘Pax Romana’ - the peace of Rome. To many, it marked the return of Rome’s mythic and glorious past. But Augustus himself would never return to the past. He was now a hardened thirty-two-year-old man - the sole ruler of the Greco-Roman world, Rome’s first emperor. Victory had been costly, but the greatest challenge still lay ahead, for to avoid the fate of Julius Caesar, Augustus must disarm the Senate and charm the masses. He must do better than win the war. He must win the peace. That challenge would occupy the rest of his life. A Voice:

“Let me step forward, clear my throat, and announce that I am a native of Soula, a few days’ journey eastward from Rome.” While Augustus fought his way to the pinnacle of power, a boy named Ovid was coming of age under less demanding circumstances. Ovid Speaks:

“I was the second son, a year to the day younger than my brother. We always had two cakes on the birthday we shared, and were close in other ways as well. We studied together, and then went up to Rome to seek our fortunes. I used to waste my time trying to write verses. My father called it waste. He disapproved of any pursuit where you could not turn a decent living, and always used to say, ‘Homer died poor.’” Ovid came from the same stock as Augustus. They were both landed gentries, and like Augustus, the young man found his identity and his ambitions moulded by his demanding family.

Ovid:

“I tried to give up poetry, to stick to prose on serious subjects, but frivolous minds like mine attract frivolous inspirations, some too good not to fool with. I kept returning to my bad habits, secretive and ashamed. I couldn’t help it, I felt like an impostor in serious matters, but I owed it to my father and my brother to try to do my duty.” By Roman law, a father wielded absolute control over his children. Those who displeased him could be disowned, sold into slavery or even killed. The young Ovid tried to meet his father’s expectations. He married, studied law - but the strain proved unendurable. Miserable, Ovid and a friend set out on a journey of self-discovery. Ovid:

“We toured the magnificent cities of Asia. We watched the flames of Mount Etna light up the heavens. We ploughed the waves in a painted ship, and also travelled by wagon. Often the roads seemed short, as we were lost in conversation. When we walked, our words outnumbered our steps - and we had too much to say, even for the long evenings of supper.” Eighteen months later, Ovid settled in Rome, older and more self-confident than before. He resolved to become a poet. He cultivated new friends in Roman literary circles, and soon, Ovid made a name for himself as Rome’s reigning poet - of stolen kisses. Ovid:

“So your husband is coming to this dinner party? I hope he gags on his food. Listen - and learn what you must do. When he settles on his couch to eat, go to him with a straight face. Look modest and lie back beside him. But secretly touch me with your foot. Don’t let him drape his arms around your neck, don’t rest your gentle head against his chest - don’t welcome his fingers to your lap or to your eager nipples. Most of all, no kissing. When dinner is done, your husband will close the bedroom door. But whatever the night shall bring, tell me tomorrow - you refused.”

Keith Bradley:

“It’s a mistake to think that Ovid’s poetry can be read very literally in purely autobiographical terms. That wouldn’t be true, I think, of any poetry from antiquity. But at the same time, Ovid is writing of subjects of which he has some sort of experience and he certainly, through the love poetry, opens up a world that is very different in tone and quality from the official atmosphere.”

While Ovid bloomed as a man of words, the new emperor thrived as a man of action. He rebuilt Rome - and his own family. Divorcing his wife, Augustus married his heavily pregnant mistress - Livia. The move raised eyebrows and hackles, as love was not the only motive. Although Augustus shunned the trappings of absolute power, many suspected he was building a dynasty - a line of heirs to rule Rome for generations to come. Augustus knew it was a dangerous move. He knew that Julius Caesar had been murdered for appearing as a king. Augustus would not make the same mistake. He relinquished high office and struck a delicate balance between fact and fiction.

Augustus writes:

“Having, by universal consent, acquired control of all affairs, I transferred government to the Senate and the people of Rome.” Judith Hallet:

“Augustus was a very cagey political leader because he pretended to be restoring all of these republican political traditions. In fact, what he was running was a full-fledged dynastic monarchy.” A Voice:

“Augustus conquered Cantabria, Aquitania, Pannonia, Dalmatia and all of Illyricum, as well as Raetia.” Augustus not only changed the empire, he expanded it. Egypt had been added early in his career. Soon, Northern Spain was joined. Augustus drove across Europe, into Germany, and he united east and west by adding modern Hungary, Austria, the Balkans and central Turkey. These victories employed Roman soldiers and senators and offered welcome distractions to the city’s poor. When Augustus wasn’t staging chariot races or gladiator shows, he displayed exotic animals, the quarry of Rome’s far-flung empire. A rhinoceros appeared in the arena, Asian tigers in the theatre and a giant serpent in the forum.

Karl Galinsky:

“One key constituency for Augustus was the plebeian population of Rome, and that is basically the city mob. You have several hundred thousand folks here who have no jobs, and to put it very simply, who need to be kept off the streets, and kept from making trouble, because it’s a very volatile, combustible mixture.” The volatile mix that made up Rome stayed quiet for the first four years of Augustus’ rule. Then, in 23 BC, events took a critical turn. Cassius Dio writes that a series of disasters convinced the people that Augustus needed not less power, but more. “The city was flooded by the over flowing river and many things were struck by lightning. Then a plague passed through Italy and no one could work the land. The Romans thought these misfortunes were caused because Augustus had relinquished his office. They wished to appoint him dictator. A mob barricaded the Senate inside its building and threatening to burn them alive, forced the Senate to vote Augustus absolute ruler.” The demands threatened to unsettle the emperor’s precarious political balance. Augustus fell to his knees before the riders. He tore his toga and beat his chest. He promised the mob that he would personally take control of the grain supply. But Augustus refused to be called a dictator. The crowd disbanded, but the lesson was clear. Augustus was riding a tiger. To keep order on the frontiers, the streets and the Senate was a super human task. Super human skills were needed. Luckily for Rome, Augustus had them. Karl Galinsky:

“Then something very fortuitous happens: Halley’s Comet shows up and the word is given out by Augustus that this is the soul of Julius Caesar ascending into heaven. So from this point on he is called Julius Caesar the divine. Politically it became very potent, because what does Augustus do at this point? On all his coinage on all his writings, on all his symbols, whatever, he puts on the words “DF”, meaning Son of the Divine. And it’s really quite an asset in politics to be the Son of the Divine. There are modern politicians I think would be very jealous of being able to do that.”

Augustus enhanced his pious new identity with stories of his lean habits. It was said that he slept in a modest house, and slept on a low bed, that he ate common foods, coarse bread, common cheese, and sometimes, even less.

Augustus:

“My dear Tiberius, not even a Jew observes a fast as diligently on the Sabbath as I have today. I ate nothing until the early hours of evening when I nibbled two bites before my rub down.”

Moral change, Augustus began to argue, was the enemy of Rome. He believed that its future ran through its past, through the restoration of the values he thought had first made Rome great. Augustus:

“I renewed many traditions which were fading in our age. I restored eighty-two temples of the gods, neglecting none that required repair at the time.” In public, Augustus led by example. He sacrificed animals in traditional rituals and he re-established traditional social rules. New laws assigned theatre seats by social rank. Women were confined to the back rows. Adultery was outlawed; marriage and children were encouraged. To many, Roman society had recovered its true course. The son of a god was building an empire for the ages. Augustus:

“Who can find words to adequately describe the advancements of these years? Authority has been returned to the government, majesty to the Senate, and influence to the courts. Protests in the theatre have been stopped, integrity is honored, depravity is punished.” But amid the applause, there were also cries of protest. The emperor’s new traditional values rankled friends and enemies alike. It even rankled his own daughter, Julia. Long a pawn of family politics, Julia assumed that she was exempt from her father’s stringent views. She was wrong. And in the coming years, Augustus, son of a god, would have to confront Augustus the father.

“If there is anyone here who is a novice in the art of love, let him read my book. With study, he will love like a professional.” As the emperor, Augustus firmly charted a course of moral rigor. The poet Ovid staked out different ground. He was now Rome’s most famous living poet, and his boldness grew in step with his reputation. Having all but exhausted the conventions of love poetry, he decided to stretch them. He began composing a manual of practical tips on adultery.

Ovid writes:

“Step one - stroll under a shady colonnade. Don’t miss the shrine of Adonis, but the theatre is your best hunting ground. There you will find women to satisfy any desire, just as ants come and go, so the cultured ladies swarm to the games. They come for the show - and to make a show of themselves. There are so many I often reel from the choice.” Many Romans yearned to follow their emperor back to the good old days of stern Roman virtue. But others reveled in the promises of Rome’s newfound peace. Ovid was one of them. To the youthful poet, old limits seemed meaningless. “Do not doubt you can have any girl you wish. Some give in, others resist but all love to be propositioned. And even if you fail, rejection doesn’t hurt. Why should you fail? Women always welcome pleasure and find novelty exciting.” Indeed, the earlier civil wars had unleashed enormous social change. Some women had gained political clout, new rights, and new freedoms. Tradition holds that one such woman was Julia, the emperor’s only child.

“Julia had a love of letters and was well educated - a given in that family. She also had a gentle nature and no cruel intentions. Together these brought her great esteem as a woman.”

Julia didn’t reject traditional values wholesale. She had long endured her father’s overbearing control. She dutifully married three times to further his dynastic ambitions, and she bore five children. Her two boys, Guyus and Luccius were cherished by Augustus as probable heirs. But like Ovid, Julia expected more from the peace. She was clever and vivacious, and she had an irreverent tongue that cut across the grain of Roman convention. Her legendary wit was passed through the centuries by a late Roman writer called Macrobius.

Macrobius writes:

“Several times her father ordered her in a manner both doting and scolding to moderate her lavish clothes and keep less mischievous company. Once he saw her in a revealing dress. He disapproved but held his tongue. The next day, in a different dress, she embraced her father with modesty. He could not contain his joy and said, ‘Now isn’t this dress more suited to the daughter of Augustus?’ Julia retorted, ‘Today I am dressed for my father’s eyes. Yesterday I dressed for my husband.’

But apparently Julia’s charms were not reserved for her husband alone. The emperor’s daughter took many lovers.

Judith Hallet:

“Her dalliances were so well known that people were actually surprised when her children resembled her second husband, who was the father of her five children. She wittily replied, “Well that’s because I never take on a passenger unless I already have a full cargo.” The meaning here is that she waited until she was already pregnant before undertaking these dalliances, so concerned was she to protect the bloodlines of these offspring.“

Julia, like Ovid, was a testament to her times. But neither of them were average Romans. The life they represented shocked traditional society to the core. And as Julia entered her thirty-eighth year, crisis loom

"In that year, a scandal broke out in the emperor’s own home. It was shameful to discuss, horrible to remember

One Roman soldier voiced deep revulsion at Julia’s extraordinary self-indulgence. "Julia, ignoring her father Augustus, did everything which is shameful for a woman to do, whether through extravagance or lust. She counted her sins as though counting her blessings, and asserted her freedom to ignore the laws of decency.” Julia’s behavior erupted into a full-blown political crisis, which was marked by over-blown claims. The emperor’s daughter was rumored to hold nightly revels in Rome’s public square. She was said to barter sexual favors from the podium where her father addressed the people. When the gossip reached Augustus, the emperor flew into a violent rage. He refused to see visitors. Upon emerging, Suetonius reports, he publicly denounced his only child. “He wrote a letter, advising the Senate of her misbehavior, but was absent when it was read. He secluded himself out of shame, and even considered a death sentence for his daughter. He grew more obstinate, when the Roman people came to him several times, begging for her sake. He cursed the crowd that they should have such daughters and such wives.” As a father, Augustus could not abide Julia’s behavior. As an emperor, he could not tolerate the embarrassment. Augustus banished Julia for the rest of her life. “I was going to pass over the ways a clever girl might elude a husband or a watchful guard. But since you need help - here is my advice.” Soon after Julia’s exile, Ovid released his salacious poem. It couldn’t have been more poorly timed. “Of course a guard stands in your way, but you can still write. Compose love letters while alone in the bathroom and send them out with an accomplice. She can hide them next to her warm flesh, under her breasts or bound beneath her foot. Should your guard get wind of these schemes, she can offer her skin for paper and carry out notes written on her body.” Ovid’s poetry extolled behavior for which the emperor’s daughter was banished. Her fate loomed large as a warning. For the present, the emperor remained mute towards Rome’s most gifted rebel. Ovid turned his hand to less provocative forms of poetry. He remarried, and he embraced a new appreciation for discretion.

“Enjoy forbidden pleasures in their place. But when you dress, don’t forget your mask of decorum. An innocent face hides more than a lying tongue.” Ovid was on notice. The order of Augustus had firm bounds of propriety and Ovid had tested them to the fullest. “Now consider the dangers of night. Tiles fall from the rooftop and crack you on the head. And the drunken hooligan, spoiling for a fight, cannot rest without a brawl. What can you do when a raving madman confronts you? Or tenants throw their broken pots out the window? You’re courting disaster if you go to dinner before writing your will.” At the turn of the first century, the poet Juvenal, was writing verses, which exposed much of Rome to scorn. He was acerbic and had a keen eye for the gritty realities of urban life. Juvenal writes:

“Our apartment block is a tottering ruin. The building manager props it up with slender poles and plasters over the gaping cracks. Then he bids us sleep safe and sound in his wretched death trap.” Ronald Mellor, Professor of History, UCLA:

I don’t think our notion of Rome bears much relation to the Rome of every day life. Because what is left today are the big public buildings, not the squalid hovels without plumbing and sanitary conditions that ordinary people lived in. That’s precisely the reason members of the elite preferred to withdraw up into the hills, and to have their villas up on the hills, a little bit away from the noise and away from the stench and away from that incredible hoard of people pressing close together. Juvenal writes:

“I would love to live where there are no fears, in the dark of night. Even now, I smell fire and hear a neighbor cry out for water as he struggles to save his measly belongings. Smoke pours out from the third story as flames move upwards, but the poor wretch who lives at the top with the leaking roof and roosting birds, is oblivious to the danger, and sure to burn.” In the year 4, in the imperial palace, the emperor, Augustus also lost sleep, but not from fear of fire. Now an old man of sixty-six, Augustus has lost much of his youthful vigor. “His vision had faded in his left eye, his teeth were few, widely spaced and worn down, his hair wispy and yellowed. His skin was irritated by scratching and vehement scraping, so that he had chronic rough spots, resembling ring worm.” As the emperor neared death, plots to succeed him sprouted. His grandsons and intended heirs had both died, unexpectedly. And the emperor himself lived under constant threat of assassination. Speaking for Augustus, one ancient historian voiced his dilemma: “Whereas solitude is dreadful,” he wrote, “company is also dreadful - the very men who protect us are most terrifying.” Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, Director, British School, Rome:

“In many ways, Augustus looked so solid, and what he created looked so solid you forget the fragility. I think contemporaries were very aware of that fragility. And surely Augustus was, he was - over anxious, in a sense, to provide a secure system after he’d gone.”

At this time, there were unusually strong earthquakes. The Tiber pulled down the bridge and flooded the city for seven days. There was a partial eclipse of the sun, and famine developed. Ancient historians report that natural disasters predicted political ones. In the year 6, soldiers, the backbone of the empire, refused to re-enlist without a pay rise. New funds had to be found. Then, fire swept parts of the capital. A reluctant Augustus turned to taxation. It was a dangerous tactic, and the emperor knew it. Fearing a coup, Augustus dispersed potential enemies. He recessed the courts and disbanded the Senate. He even dismissed his own retinue - Rome remained on edge.

“The mob, distressed by the famine of the taxes after the fire… openly discussed rebellion. When night fell, they hung seditious posters.” The crisis passed. But soon a new and even greater disaster battered the aging Augustus. It began in Germany, a land of fiercely independent tribes, and to the Roman eye, rugged barbarism. The region had been recently conquered, and Roman customs were taking root - or so they thought. “The barbarians had not forgotten their ancient traditions, their free way of life or the power of arms. But, as long as they were assimilated slowly, they did not realize they were changing, and did not resist Roman influence.” That peaceful evolution stopped, however, in the year 9. The year an arrogant young General named Quinctilius Varus became commander of the Rhine army, and brought an iron fist to the province. “He forced more drastic change on the barbarians, and exacted money as if they were his subjects.” Varus disastrously miscalculated the extent of Roman control, and misjudged German compliance. A trusted German chieftain organized a full-scale revolt, and lured Varus’ troops into a trap, deep in unfamiliar terrain. “The mountains were rocky and covered with ravines. The trees were dense and tall so that the Romans were struggling to make progress. Rain began to fall in sheets. The heavy wind scattered their numbers. The ground became slippery around the tree trunks and leaves. While the Romans were dealing with these troubles, the barbarians surrounded them, suddenly coming from everywhere. First, they came from afar. Then, since no one was fighting back and many were wounded, the barbarians came ever closer, and the Romans were unable to retaliate. They kept crashing into each other…They could not grip their arrows or javelins. The rain forced their weapons from their hands. Even their sodden shields were useless. And so every man and every horse was slaughtered.” Three legions were massacred - a tenth of Rome’s army. Augustus, his biographer reports, was traumatized. “They say he was so disturbed, that for several months, he let his hair and beard grow, and would sometimes bash his head on doors and cry out 'Quntillius Varus, give me back my legions.’” The disaster in Germany underscored a stark reality. The empire was born of violence, and to violence, it ever threatened to return. The emperor was in no mood for leniency. “Believe me, love’s climax of pleasure should not be rushed, but savored. But when you reach those places a woman loves to have touched, don’t let shame get in the way, don’t back off. You’ll see her eyes shine with a trembling light, as when the sun glitters on rippling water. She’ll moan and murmur sweet words just right for the game. But don’t outpace your mistress, or let her leave you in the dust. Rush to the finish line in unison. When man and woman collapse together, they both win. That’s the greatest prize.” Ovid’s sizzling words gripped Rome when they were first published. But a decade later, they would return to haunt him. For the patience of the emperor Augustus has reached its lowest point. Beleaguered, he saw plots in every corner, anarchy in every act of disobedience. Blaming the subversive book, Augustus banished Ovid from Rome. “Hello. Are you there? If so, indulge these verses of mine. They don’t come from my garden, or from that old couch I used to sprawl on. Whoever you are and in whatever parlor or bedroom or study, I have been writing on decks, propped up against bulkheads.” The poet was sent to an untamed backwater on the edges of the empire, on the shores of the black sea. For Ovid, the ultimate urban sophisticate, no punishment could have been harsher. His roguish aplomb crumbled to anguish. “When night falls here, I think of that other night when I was cast out into the endless gloom. We managed to laugh, once or twice, when my wife found, in some old trunk, odd pieces of clothing. This might be the thing this season, the new Romanian mode. And just as abruptly, our peal of laughter would catch, and tear into tears. And we

held each other. My wife sobbed at the hearth. What could I say? I took the first step with which all journeys begin, but could not take the second. I was barely able to breathe. I set forth again. Behind me, she fell, rolling, onto the floor, her hair swept onto the hearth, stirring up the dust and ashes. I heard her call my name. I thought I had survived the worst - what could be worst? But my wife arose, pursued me, held on to me weeping. Servants pulled her away. Whatever worth there was in me died there.”

Ovid was sure his talents would bring him home. He wrote constantly. And as he waited, he sought refuge in a remote frontier town. When the temperatures dropped, Ovid wrote, the wine froze in its vessels, the river in its banks. Across the ice thundered hostile horsemen, plundering and killing. It was a brutal life. Ovid wrote home from exile, a side of the empire that few Romans ever saw. “Beyond these rickety walls there’s no safety. And inside it’s hardly better. Barbarians live in most of the houses - even if you’re not afraid of them you’ll despise their long hair and clothes made of animal skins. They all do business in their common language. I have to communicate with gestures. I am understood by no one, and the stupid peasants insult my Latin words. They heckle me to my face, and mock my exile.” Writing for this audience, Ovid complained, was like “dancing in the dark.” As the years passed, Ovid shrivelled into a bony old man. He fell ill. Contrition replaced his former bravado. “Oh, I repent I repent. If anyone as wretched as I can be believed, I do repent. I am tortured by my deed.” Ovid, however, never got an answer to his pleas. And would never get a reprieve. As he approached death, he became sadly resigned to his fate. “Look at me. I yearn for my country, my home, and for you. I have lost everything that I once had. But I still have my talent. Emperors have no jurisdiction over that. My fame will survive, even after I am gone. And as long as Rome dominates the world, I will be read.” Nine years into his exile, Ovid died. He outlived Augustus, but he had bent to the emperor’s will. At the start of the emperor’s public life, Augustus had won the wars engulfing Rome. By the end, he had won the peace, and men like Ovid paid the price. In the years ahead, when lesser men would rule Rome, that price would rise higher still. “Oh Jupiter and Mars and all gods that raise the Roman Empire to ruler of the world, I invoke you and I pray - guard this prosperity, this peace, now and into the future.” In the year 14, prayers such as these were heard around the vast dominion ruled by Rome. For in that year, the empire stood at a precipice. The emperor Augustus had died. Augustus had been a towering figure. He had extinguished a century of civil war. He presided over forty years of internal peace and prosperity. He forged the vision and power that cemented the empire together. But the peace of Augustus came at a price. By the end of his life, Augustus had eclipsed the Senate, ruled as a monarch, and founded a dynasty that was fraught with troubles. His heirs, Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius - these men would lead Rome through years of political terror, imperial madness, assassination - and through the distant founding of a new religion that would one day engulf the empire itself. The years to come would be years of trial - testing the endurance of subjects and citizens, soldiers, and slaves. The men and women of the Roman Empire in the first century.

#order from chaos

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amintyworld · 4 years

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Chapter One: Ex-Kings - Sanders Sides Six AU

A/N: Finally, after three weeks of valiant effort, it’s FINALLY HERE! The first chapter of the amazing Six AU! I’m sorry it didn’t come out sooner, school and personal stuff got in the way, but I hope you enjoy it! Love ya, and as always, stay sweet! - Minty

First (You’re Here!) - Last - Next

Summary: Prince Remy has a decision to make, and receives an unlikely gift.

TW: Death mention. (Please tell me if I missed anything!)

Prince Remy walked down the halls of his castle, deep in thought. He had a week, if not more, to decide the biggest decision of his life - he was relieved of his regular duties to think, not like he really did much anyway. His father, King Thomas, handled ruling the Sanders Empire just fine without him - he had for over 10 years before Remy came along.

The Sanders Family was secretive in their pasts, and not much was known to the public of their personal lives, so not much was really known in the family, nor outside it.

Remy turned down a long hallway full of tapestries of merry kings and queens, of powerful monarchs that conquered kingdoms and waged wars. Remy paused in his hurry to scan along the line.

King Daniel to King Logan, their stories of what the public saw paved in thread and silk.

Would he ever be the strong leader his people needed? Remy doubted himself. It was hard to believe he was related to any of them at all - he walked down slowly, his hands drifting over the soft stitching.

Divorced. Beheaded. Died.

Divorced. Beheaded. Survived.

A part of Remy wondered what they were really like behind closed doors. Were they ever scared? Did they have struggles like him?

He stopped at his grandfather Logan’s tapestry, reading the label - ‘King Logan the Wise, The One Who Survived’ - and looked up. There was his grandfather on the throne, his father behind him, with a hand on the head of the chair, both with blank expressions.

Remy stared at the tapestries. There must be something behind the riches and crowns, something human. He can’t be a descendant of… of brutal kings and ruthless killers.

It can’t be so cut and dry.

Can it…?

“Remy!” A servant yelled, snapping the Prince out of his daze. Remy’s gaze snapped to the servant, smiling as he rushed and enveloped the Prince in a much needed hug. “Thank god you’re here. I haven’t seen you in weeks!”

“Boy, they’ve got you really busy, haven’t they?” Remy said, smiling down at his best friend, then looking down at his suit stained in flour. Emile turned pink.

“S-sorry! I didn’t have time to wash up…” Emile said, trying desperately to clean off the white streaks on Remy’s black jacket. “Oh, I’ve ruined your suit…!”

Remy smiled, sighing at his best friend. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Emi. It’s just a little flour.” He giggled as some flour built up on top of Emile’s puffy white hat fell to the floor, dusting nearly Emile’s entire face in the powdery white substance.

Emile groaned. “I never thought I’d ever hate flour.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up…”

After a rather funny exchange with the cook staff, Remy and Emile were sitting in the garden as Remy slowly wiped flour off Emile’s face. Emile’s eyes searched his own as Remy cleaned, an awkward smile on his face. “I really made a mess this time, huh?”

Prince Remy smiled. “Lucky for you, I’m always here to clean it up.” He scooted closer to Emile to get some caked sugary and floury goo off Emile’s forehead. As Remy was focused on the mess, Emile looked up at Remy, a growing blush spreading on his cheeks.

——————–

High above them, a bright red spirit dressed fancily sporting a crown of his own giggled giddily, to which the two down below were deaf to hear. “Ooooooh, they’re so cute! Look at Emile, he’s blushing!” The spirit sighed. “Why can’t they just get together already, Dad?!”

A dark purple spirit, wearing a crown as well, floated next to the bright red one. “Do you not remember, Roman? Remy’s already promised to Princess Adene of Farwood.”

The red spirit, Roman, sighed, crossing his arms like a child. “She’s so boring though! Plus, Remy loves Emile!” A smirk passed his features. “If I could just-”

“No, Roman!” The dark spirit, Virgil, scolded his son. “No more messing with the mortal realm! You’ve done quite enough damage to the poor housemaids and chefs, haven’t you? Now everyone thinks there’s a rodent problem in the castle!” The spirit yelled, grabbing Roman’s hand before he could do anything foolish.

“Fine, fine.” The red spirit said, yanking his hand away from his father’s grip and sighing, looking at the two down below. “I just wish Remy could be happy.”

“I know,” Virgil sighed. “Me too…”

——————

“You know,” Remy chuckled. “Keep this up and the chefs will run out of flour and sugar in the blink of an eye. They’ll have to scoop some off you!”

Emile giggled, holding out his arm. “Oh sir, did you need some extra flour? Why, I have some right here!”

Without noticing, their hands inched closer.

——————–

“You promise me you’re not gonna do something stupid?” Virgil warned Roman as he turned toward the castle.

“Please, Dad. What am I gonna do? I’ve already scared all the cooks!” Roman said with a laugh.

“Alright. I’m going to check on Logan.” Virgil said. “Poor guy hasn’t been able to leave his room for days.”

The air suddenly seemed thick at the mention of Logan. Roman looked solemn.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Roman?”

“Please tell me if-” Roman said, his expression turning serious, and somewhat scared.

“Of course, Roman,” Virgil said. “You’ll be the first to know.”

With that, he was gone.

Roman’s son, Logan, was 97 and still living. The One Who Survived. Everyone knew his time was coming, but Roman didn’t want him to die.

Not yet.

Roman sighed.

His attention turned back to the lovebirds below him and smiled at how close they were, and the flush on their faces. Of course, the two were too shy to make a move on their own. Surely, all they needed to set the mood was a bit of…

Roman smirked as his hand lit up bright pink.

…assistance…

Roman’s eyes caught a loose branch in the brush behind them, and smiled mischievously, rubbing his hands together as it began to move.

Perfect.

———————–

High above the gardens, the night began to show the twinkling stars in the sky, and Remy’s heart began to beat faster at the closeness of him and his best friend. Emile’s eyes looked up at him, sparkling, and Remy could feel a hot, deep blush spreading across his face. Neither had said a word for at least ten minutes now, just staring at each other.

Remy’s breathing became rapid. When did their lips get so close?!

“…It's… uh, getting late.” Emile said, turning his attention toward the stairs to the kitchens, and hiding a blush. “I should really be getting back to work-”

“-Woah-!”

Something pushed the two forward, and they were flying, flying-

Then suddenly, much, MUCH closer than they were before.

Remy fell on his back, looking up at Emile who landed on his stomach. Emile’s breath blew a strand of Remy’s hair out of his face, which made Remy’s blush deepen, and Emile’s blush to come out of hiding.

Roman giggled from above, squealing at their predicament with his head in his hands, his glowing red body getting brighter with each laugh.

With murmured flustered apologies, they tried standing back up.

Emile slipping on the floury mess they made on the floor cleaning up, falling backward. His arms flailed, and Remy acted quickly, grabbing his arms and steadying him in an awkward dip pose, lips inches apart.

Remy tried to clear his dry throat. “Are… are you o-okay, Emile?”

So…Close.

“Of… of c-course, I-”

“Remy?” A deep voice boomed from the doorway after clearing his throat. Remy looked up to see his father, the ruler of the Sanders Empire.

King Thomas.

The King wore a blood-red cape with golden tassels, a grand golden crown atop his brown windswept hair. His eyes looked powerful and playful at the same time. He leaned against the stone doorframe, boasting a smile. “Am I… interrupting anything?”

Remy’s cheeks were dusted bright red as he stood up quickly. “NO- no… Dad, you aren’t interrupting-”

Emile awkwardly looked to the King, standing. “I…uh… I should be heading back to the kitchens… dinner should be soon, my king.”

“Of course. Lovely to see you, Emile.”

“Thank you, my king.” Emile ran off quickly.

————————-

The red spirit sighed. “Ugh, talk about buzzkill-!"

Suddenly a small glint coming from the King’s satchel caught his eye. "Wait, is that-!?” Roman looked closer in shock - that crest…

"I have to go tell the others-!“

The red spirit rushed off inside the stone castle, phasing through the walls with a sense of newfound urgency.

—————————-

King Thomas walked over to his son with a knowing smile. "So… you two have been… busy…”

“We were just catching up.”

“You’re turning 20 soon…” Thomas graced his hands down Remy’s arms. “Just look at you. Where’s that chocolate sneaking little boy I knew?” Thomas smiled fondly at his son, and Remy couldn’t help but look to the ground.

“I’m… going to be a King.” Remy said. With every word, the room filled with tension. “Just like grandfather, and the others before. I’m going to live on the legacy of our great ancestors. I’m going to rule the Sanders Empire.”

“Remy.” His father’s tone was more serious. “You don’t have to if you don’t want-”

“What damn choice do I have, Dad?!” Remy yelled, making the King step back a few feet. Remy’s fists were clenched at his sides so tight that they began to leave bright red marks. “If I don’t become King, we’ll be a disgrace, and I’m not letting 80 years of rule go down the toilet just because I’m selfish!”

Thomas sighed. “You remind me too much of me when I was your age - So full of hopes and dreams, and a true fighting spirit.” The king sat down on the stone bench and motioned for his son to do the same. Remy hesitantly sat down. “You know, there’s so much about our family you don’t know, Remy. Secrets and stories that even the public couldn’t get a hold of.”

Remy looked at his father in awe. “What…?” He breathed, his anger dispersing from his father’s calm demeanor and voice. “How…?”

“It’s a tradition, son - a book passed down generation through generation of the Sanders Empire.” Thomas pulled out a dusty brown leather book with frayed edges and pages sticking out, a crest carved into the leather at the center - the castle of the great King Daniel, who freed the people from the tyrannical rule of his husband, King Benjamin the Third of Salkenshire. Two swords clashed at the top of the crest, deep rivers and valleys below. Remy slowly traced the crest with his finger. “All our entire family’s history is in this book, Remy. Your grandfather gave it to me when I was about your age, and it’s about time I give it to you.”

“W-wait… really?” Remy asked, broken from his trance on the cover to look up to his father. “But, you know how I feel about being king, I don’t deserve this-”

“You deserve to know where you come from, and what it’s like to be a Sanders.” His father said, tucking some stray brown hair behind his son’s ears. “God, you look just like your mother…”

Remy smiled slightly, remembering her. The King stood quickly. “Well then, I should be off - after all, you have a book to read.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course. I’ll see you at dinner, alright?”

“Alright,” Remy said, holding the book to his chest. Thomas placed his hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about the whole King thing. You’ll make the right decision when the time comes - after all, it’s in your blood.”

#sanders sides #sander sides #sanders sides six au #six au #sanders sides fic #remy x emile

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kassies-take · 5 years

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1108 AD

A/N: Mostly historically accurate. Ava and Sara are best friends, never dated and Sara is still in her old habits.

Warning: Slight NSFW

Sara Lance x LeagueofAssassins!Reader

Word Count: 1615

“Captain I have found an anachronism in the year 1108 AD. Should I plot a course?”

“Yeah, while you’re on it notify the team that we are going to time jump,” Sara said as she marched to the Captain’s chair from her office.

The Legends entered the Bridge and pulled the safety harnesses over their heads.

“Where are we going now?” Mick grumbled.

“It’s not where but when,” Sara calibrated the control panel a bit more.

“I wonder when we’re going,” Ray grinned. “World War II, Gutenberg’s Printing Press, oh maybe Pax Romana,” Ray listed.

“Did you know that Pax Romana was the period of relative peace in the Roman Empire for about two hundred years, which is shocking because the Roman Empire loved fights and bloodshed. Road, postal systems, arch, plumbing, and other cultural advances developed during this time,” Nate rambled in his area of expertise.

Sara breathed a sigh, rolled her eyes and was ready to pilot the ship through the temporal zone.

“How big is this anachronism?” Amaya ask.

“At this point I don’t even care, I’m starting to get a massive headache.” Zari complained.

“Shut up!” Mick grunted with a beer in his hand.

“It’s a level 14, you’re still getting use to time jumping, and I agree with Mick everyone shut up so I can pilot!” Sara answered respectively.

Sara pushed the pilot lever forward and was met with a golden yellow light of the time jump. She parked the Waverider just outside the city —well buildings made out of bricks, sticks and mud, roads just dirt and a couple of stones. Sara cloaked the ship, pushed the harness up and headed towards the octagon control panel. The Legends right on her tail.

“What do we have Gideon?” Sara places both her hands on each side of a panel.

“King Louis VI was kidnapped the morning of his coronation,” Gideon explained.

“Ooh fun fact King Louis VI is the Great great great great great great great great great-” Nate counted on his fingers till twenty three. “Grandfather of King Louis XVI. Sorry Gideon continue.”

“In this version of history the royal power was never centralized for instruction, King Louis XVI was never born, France never helps the United States with the Revolution,the United States remains a monarchy and France falls into anarchy.”

“Alright Jax and Stein quarterback on the ship first sign of trouble you firestorm up, Nate, Amaya and I need you to pose as a merchant setting up shop in the square, Ray I need you to shrink down and run reconnaissance while guarding Louis VI with Mick,” the Legends nodded at the captain’s orders. “Zari you’re with me in the town to run reconnaissance. Alright let’s go save the world.”

Amaya and Nate set up a bakery, Amaya mainly bake or displayed the middle age pastries Gideon fabricated as Nate set up the fabricated sign that read ‘The Muffin Man’. As Nate finished with the sign he climbed down the ladder and opened the door for you.

Amaya smiled at you as you looked around the shop. To Amaya and Nate you were just looking around, however as League training you scanned the area for escape routes as well as Amaya and Nate’s actions.

The League was more advanced with its technology as you wore your custom made League of Assassins suit, fitted with leather tunics under the long, fairly-wide green over-garment with the cotte hardie pinned by a girdle to easily hide your weapons.

“Are you two new to the business?” You spoke in French. Amaya gave you a piece of bread to try.

“Yes, we traveled from England,” Nate replied cautiously.

“Well I must know your names and let the word spread that there are new bakers in town.”

“Nathanial and Marie Antoinette,” Nate introduced.

“How funny, the real Marie Antoinette loved cakes while the fake baked cakes.” Jax laughed on coms

“You have a beautiful name Marie Antoinette,” you smiled and ogled at Amaya’s body without the two noticing. “My name is Shamara Zurisada.”

You passed a few small silver pennies over to Amaya who gladly accepted them with a smile.

“What a nice lady,” Nate said once you were out of sight.

A short static buzzed in their coms before Sara spoke up.

“Anything with you guys, Nate?” Sara asked.

“Nope, but we had our first customer Shamara Zurisada,” Sara froze in realization. “Hello? Captain? Earth to Sara?”

“Nate, I need you to follow her. We just found our white whale and the reason Louis VI went missing before his coronation, he gets killed by the League of Assassins,” Sara filled in the whole team.

“You want me to follow an assassin?” Nate asked doubtfully.

You walked into the crowded square knowing full well who the Legends were. One important thing Sara didn’t tell the Legends was that Shamara Zurisada, you, were important to League history.

“According to the Shadow Records, Shamara Zurisada was an assassin that strengthened the League, in which the Demon Head even feared. Though a part of the League she was allowed to do whatever she wanted, due to her said power being able to see through out all of history. She supposedly disappeared without a trace and reappeared throughout the League history as an immortal warrior,” Stein explained as Nate turned the other way as he lost courage to continue walking.

“Wow the Shadow Records say all that.” Zari rolled her eyes at Ray’s bubbly comment.

“The Shadow Records are names of assassins and when they joined,” Sara retorted.

“My mistake I was reading off the League’s history. However the Shadow Record does not say when Shamara Zurisada joined the League, only that she joined.”

Sara caught a glimpse of your black robes, what she didn’t expect was to find you staring back at her with a smirk. A couple of French men and women blocked the path between you and Sara and that was when you climbed up the stone steps above the square’s walls.

You watched as the city was filled with laughter and music all ready for the new King. The crunch of gravel came from behind you, without turning you spoke.

“Ta-er Al-Sahfer,” No one dared to speak afterwards.

You threw a dagger towards Sara. While she was distracted by the weapon you executed a double roundhouse to her chest. Sara ran out of room to dodge as the walls came closer to her. She continued retreat; you continued to advance.

Sara didn’t know how it happened but a sharp gasp escaped her lips. The stones and sticks dug into her back in random places. You pulled Sara to her feet, almost tearing her collar off the middle age dress. She heard the slight rasps of material ripping before her back slammed against the wall.

You pinned Sara against the door by her wrist a smirk written on your face.

“Why do you want to kill the King?” Sara panted.

“It got boring and I went looking for trouble, well looking for you.” You whispered the latter half in her ear.

Sara’s infamous smirk appeared as you pushed against the door to open it. You and Sara immediately locked lips as Sara kicked the door closed. Sara bit your lower lip and allowed herself to slip her tongue in your mouth. With the slight advantage Sara pushed you onto the bed. Sara pinned you down by straddling your waist and held your wrists above your head. Her head flew towards the sweet spot on your neck and you threw your head back to let out a moan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“To a successful mission!” Ray cheered as the Legends entered the Bridge from the Cargo Bay.

“Do we really need a new member of the team?” Zari grumbled.

“You’re on the ship to help Amaya with her totem problem and Shamara Zurisada is on the ship to help with mine,” Sara explained.

“(Y/N),” you crossed your arms and leaned against the Bridge entrance.

“What problem?” Amaya asked with concern.

“N-nothing,” Sara stuttered.

“Her sexual frustration problem,” you pushed off the wall.

“Ha! A fuck buddy!” Mick took a sip of his beer.

The Legends froze and stared at Sara who had flushed cheeks.

“Well regardless, Welcome to the team,” Ray beamed and tried to hug you.

He landed on the floor with a thud and a groan. You maintained a straight face and crossed your arms.

“I like her,” Mick pointed to you and sipped his beer once again.

“Just keep your room soundproof Captain,” Nate shot it finger gun, clicked his tongue and headed towards the library.

“I am so moving to the room at the other end of the hall,” Jax shook his head.

“Remarkable, by taking (Y/N) onto the Waverider she lives the myth of the immortal warrior. Truly astonishing!” Stein followed Jax to clear his room.

The Legends slowly left the Bridge with you and Sara the last two standing.

“You’re welcome to show me around or we could just head straight to your room,” you whispered in Sara’s ear

“Actually I was thinking about round two,” Sara was met with your smirked grin. “I was thinking more of sparring!” Sara rolled her eyes. “Besides we should wait till Gideon, our artificial intelligence, robot....” Sara tried to explain.

“I know what an A.I is Lance. I can see around time remember.”

“Right. As I was saying we should wait for the room to be soundproof first, you’re really load.”

You raised your eyebrows, dropped your crossed arms and placed them on your hips. “Is that a challenge, Ta-er Al-Sahfer?”

Sara shrugged her shoulders, “We will have to see.”

#sara lance #sara lance x reader #sara lance imagine #sara x reader #legends #dclegendsoftomorrow #dc legends of tomorrow #league of assassins

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beneaththetangles · 4 years

Text

BtT Light Novel Club Chapter 20 (Part 2): Tearmoon Empire, Vol. 1

And here is the second part of our discussion on the light novel Tearmoon Empire, Vol. 1! If you haven’t yet, please check out Part 1 of our discussion first.

We’ve got a lot to talk about, so let’s jump right in! Just like with Part 1, Jeskai Angel and Gaheret are joining me in the discussion.

-----

4. Is there a “god” in this story?

Jeskai Angel: It would easier to write off references to deity as a way to evoke Roman Catholic France…if there weren’t so many examples. One of the last things OG Anne says to Mia in the original timeline is, “I pray that the gods will smile upon you. May you go with their blessing.” Immediately afterward, Mia dies and travels back in time. Coincidence? Ludwig thinks “Surely, she is a great leader bestowed upon us by the heavens…” The narrator makes light of this, but is attributing the situation to a god really so farfetched? Mia died then traveled back in time eight years, accompanied by a diary stained by her own blood. How? Why? While gods don’t come up in a major way, the visit to the church in the slum is another reminder of religion. After Mia arrives at the academy, the escort captain says “May God be with you in your new life at the academy.” Well, Mia is living a “new life” in more ways than one, and again I must ask: how? I couldn’t help but ponder whether the chill Mia feels when she almost ignores Tiona, that sense that she was at a crossroads, “almost as if… As if the decision had already been made,” might be providential guidance. The narrative here doesn’t mention any god, so maybe I’m reading too much into the scene though. On various occasions people compare Mia to the moon goddess, which doesn’t prove much, but is another way the story keeps reminds us about the idea of gods.

There’s also the Duchy of Belluga / its ruler. They form a clear analogue to the pope / the territory historically ruled by the pope, sometimes called the Papal States. It’s played for humor when Mia writes in her diary, “Basically, being the wise person that I am, God in all His Greatness saw fit to make me the chosen one…To put it simply, it is my duty to save the Empire.” Leaving aside the “wise person” bit, remember we’re dealing with postmortem time travel. Is it really that unreasonable for Mia to see divine providence in this?

Again, maybe all these examples are just meant to give the setting the flavor of eighteenth century Roman Catholicism and don’t imply anything about an active role for deity in the story. But I wonder.

Gaheret: I think that there are three ways religion is present in the story: first, as all time travel stories (I would argue), this is a story concerning a fate or vocation. In this case, it is a vocation. Mia is called to be a force for good, and directed towards that end by Providence. And there is a physical reminder of that mission: the diary. I find it sort of odd that the diary would keep changing, taking into account what she does to the timeline, yet she does not expend all day reading it and searching for a way to change what will happen the next day, given her approach to the rest of what is happening.

The other two are: as a force for justice and charity, which clearly presides both the approach of Rafina and that of the international church which aids in preventing the plague and adopts an orphan boy. Placed at the slums, it works for the poor.

And as a political force, given its role in Rafina´s kingdom. We still don´t know the specifics, it is true. There is a moment when Mia is on the verge of praying, but she does not, and as Jeskai notes, at first she comically reflects that she is chosen by God. Which, being this kind of story, must be literally true. I wonder what will happen if Rafina, Keithwood and the rest will think if they learn of Mia´s experience, and how will they square it with the rest of their beliefs, of which we do not know much.

stardf29: Well, when it comes down to it, there are two clearly supernatural elements in play in the story here: Mia’s return to the past, and also the diary that tells her how events will lead to her execution, which even changes as she performs different actions to account for those and show how they might still lead to doom. With no other obvious magical elements in the story, I have to assume that there’s at least some “god” that is at work here.

The question then is, based on that assumption, how much that god is like the Christian God. The thing here is, we have a situation where this “god” seems to have turned back time in order to change the course of history. Now, the whole concept of time travel is one that is very hard to grasp due to how it seems nearly impossible in real life, to say nothing of its philosophical/theological implications. Is this an actual rewind of time? Is this an alternate universe that had followed the same events of history until the point where Mia basically gains the knowledge of events in a parallel universe? Or was Mia’s past life beyond her reincarnation point basically just one long and extremely visceral prophecy that never actually happened, which was shown to her alongside the diary in order to avert a terrible fate? Each one would have different implications on what the “god” of this world is like. And really, at this point, I have no idea what the case is here. I’m definitely curious on this point, but for now, I can at least appreciate that there are higher powers in play here.

Jeskai Angel: I found it curious that throughout the book, there seemed to references to a variety of deities. One is just called “God.” Another is identified as the “moon goddess.” And there’s also broader mention of “the gods.” It’s unclear to me for now which if any of these is actually “real” in-story.

5. This novel seems to take inspiration from European history, particularly the French Revolution. What do you think about the similarities and differences between the story and the history of our world?

Jeskai Angel: Tearmoon Empire uses its background material quite well. This is not historical fiction, thankfully, just fiction loosely inspired by history. The author paints in broad strokes, piggybacking on popular knowledge of the French Revolution to help tell the story, without being slavishly beholden to historical minutia. A great example of this is the “Let them eat meat” quote attributed to Mia. Marie Antoinette never said “Let them eat cake,” but the quote is so strongly identified with her at a pop culture level that putting a paraphrase of it in Mia’s mouth becomes an effective way to tell readers Mia should bring to mind this historical figure. The rest of the book is similar, using historical allusions or resemblances to give readers a feel for the setting and characters.

I also love the overall premise, using fiction to give a happy ending (or so we hope!) to a tragic historical figure. About a decade ago, I took a course on the French Revolution at FSU, under Professor Rafe Blaufarb. It was my first time studying the French Revolution in any depth, and I came away feeling a lot of sympathy for Louis XVI and Marie. So a story where Marie Mia goes back in time to avert the revolution strongly appeals to me.

stardf29: All I’ll say here is that, whereas it seems like for you two, your interest in the French Revolution got you more interested in Tearmoon Empire, for me, it was the opposite: Tearmoon Empire got me more interested in the French Revolution. So that’s +1 for light novels encouraging academic learning. Yay!

Jeskai Angel: I like that Mia and the Tearmoon government more generally are not simplistically presented as evil. Some are rotten apples, as we see at the highest levels of the nobility, but they weren’t all horrible people. Some, like Ludwig, meant well but lacked power to effect change. Some, like Mia, simply aren’t equipped to deal with the disaster. She was selfish and arrogant in her first life, but hardly a monster. It’s impossible to celebrate her death as the story opens, only pity her. Especially in the first timeline, Mia was flawed yet also faced unfair condemnation. This again fits nicely with history. Despite a few philosophers braying about absolute monarchy, in actual practice Louis XVI’s power was far from absolute. (If France really had been an absolute monarchy, maybe the revolution could have been prevented!) Like Mia, Louis and Marie were not educated and equipped to deal with the challenges they faced. Many of the problems related to the revolution preceded them or were beyond their control. They were flawed and made mistakes, yes, but they weren’t evil monsters who deserved to die.

Gaheret: Yes. And even if that was not the case, the tyranny of the revolutionaries was far worse than that the government of the Monarchy. It actually lead to a period of madness and totalitarian terror, followed by an actual Emperor, Napoleon, that created an actual secret police, tried to conquer the world and assasinated the Duke of Enghien. Among other things, because the old France, with all its flaws, actually had some checks and balances between aristocracy, monarchy, the cities, the customs, the Church…

Jeskai Angel: True. So much unnecessary bloodshed and death.

Gaheret: Discrimination among the three states was one thing. A national Church, the Terror and the massive murder of priests, nobles and people of La Vendee was another, and far worse.

In the case of the Tearmoon Empire, things may be more different, but I´m all for Mia.

6. To what extent do you consider Mia “selfish”? Does her acting primarily out of self-interest diminish the value of her actions?

Jeskai Angel: This comes back around to the issue we keep harping on, that Mia is an impressively realistic example of how complicated we humans are. Undoubtedly, some of what she says and does is ultimately motivated by selfishness. Where the narrator goes wrong, in my view, is in talking as if that selfishness negates everything else. She was selfish, period, end of story. I don’t think that works.

When Mia drags her retainers to the slum and gives away an expensive piece of jewelry to help fund medical care for the indigent, there was certainly some selfishness involved (e.g., I don’t want to die on the guillotine again). But as you read her words on this occasion, is it really plausible that she was acting for purely selfish reasons and completely inadvertently spoke in a way sounded more benevolent? Again I remind the jury that the narrator never suggests Mia was a liar who schemed to trick people into thinking she was kind and good. The narrator just claims Mia is a doofus who expresses herself poorly.

When Mia first encounters Tiona and stands up against the bullies, there was certainly some selfishness involved (e.g., I don’t want to die on the guillotine again). But as you read her words on this occasion, is it really plausible that she was acting for purely selfish reasons and completely inadvertently spoke in a way sounded more benevolent? Again I remind the jury that the narrator never suggests Mia was a liar who schemed to trick people into thinking she was kind and good. The narrator just claims Mia is a doofus who expresses herself poorly.

What is more plausible? That Mia is such a derp that she tries to be selfish and keeps failing at it by accidentally sounding wise and compassionate without meaning to? Or that she isn’t purely selfish and her fine-sounding words and deeds are more genuine than the narrator, and perhaps Mia herself, realize?

I think again of the how before Abel’s fight, Mia tries to think of something clever and diplomatic to say…and then wishes him victory, and, according to the narrator, “let slip her true thoughts.” There’s something similar in the scene where Mia tries to convince herself that Abel is just a little kid and there’s nothing special about being with him, and is puzzled with herself as to why she would be so flustered. Is it not reasonable to suppose to that on other occasions, too, Mia’s motivations may have been less purely selfish and more complex than she and/or the narrator realize?

I think of Jesus’ teaching that a tree is known by its fruit. Mia promotes Anne and protects her from workplace harassment. Mia prevents a good civil servant from losing his job and being banished to the hinterlands for trivial reasons. Mia personally leads an effort to provide medical care for the poor by visiting the slum with her retainers and donating that valuable jewelry. Mia saves Elise’s life by becoming her patron and ensuring she’ll have the income she needs to survive. Mia protects both Tiona and Abel by standing up to bullies (notwithstanding how cowardly the narrator says she is). Mia befriends friendless Chloe. Would a person who isn’t good, and who isn’t trying to look good in front of others, really say and do all this stuff? Going by the “fruit test” Jesus taught, I feel compelled to suspect there’s more good in Mia than she or the narrator are willing to admit.

Yes, there’s some selfishness or other ill motives mixed in, but the same is true for every one of us. Why do we obey God? Because we fear God’s judgment? Because we love God himself? Because we want to avoid a guilty conscience? Because we want to go to heaven? Because we want to look like good people to others? Because…etc.? Who but God can hope to answer these questions? But if partially tainted motives are enough to devalue one’s actions, then nothing anyone does ever has any worth. This is part why reading this book was so powerful for me. As I read this work of fiction, I can see how wrong it is for the narrator to harp so much on Mia’s flaws & use them to ignore or minimize her virtues. And I could see that the same is true of myself. Do I ever act out of purely virtuous motives? Probably not. But that doesn’t justify treating everything I do as having diminished value. I want Mia’s good deeds to matter, despite her selfishness and other flaws, because I want my efforts to do good to matter, despite my selfishness and other flaws.

Gaheret: I would add that, apart from these signs that she cares for others, Abel and Anne especially, saving yourself of three years of imprisonment and of being unjustly condemned to the guillotine is a perfectly reasonable thing to do. The narrator may say that she is a chicken, but it’s not him (presumably) who may go to execution at twenty. But the important thing, in my view, is that she is growing. If she sometimes does good deeds without realizing or intending them, that’s a sign of hope that one day she will, and a gift, too. I am interested in seeing her triumph against her defects, but I find her to be a very enjoyable character just as she is.

stardf29: Okay, so the reason I asked this question was because this book made me think of something. Mainly: is it really that bad to be self-interested? After all, one can argue that all of our actions, even our most “selfless” ones, are ultimately done in our self-interest: we help others at the expense of our short-term interests because we believe doing so will be better for us in the long term. Even something like following Christ and living a Christian life is something Christians do because we believe it is both the best way to live our present life, and also because we believe in great things in the next life.

Maybe, what we think of as “selfishness” is really just “short-sighted self-interest”: doing things only for what we can gain in the short term, without thinking about how it might ultimately hurt us in some way or another. And that leads us to Mia…

Mia’s actions might be supposedly “selfish”, but what is the big difference between her actions in the current timeline versus the past? It’s that now, she’s acting with a far more long-term view of things, in particular how certain actions made with short-term gain in mind may lead to her head rolling in the future. And with that view in mind, the vast majority of her self-interested actions become very helpful to the people around her as well as herself. And that view, likewise, kickstarts her mind into starting to be considerate of others.

The fact that she’s still mainly thinking of her own interests makes for some good comedy, but I think it also reveals an interesting truth in that being self-interested isn’t bad in and of itself. The key is what we decide our self-interests are, whether they be short-term benefits that can bite us later in life, or long-term goals that help us grow and prevent (sometimes literally) painful regrets. And while Mia has room to grow in this way, having a self-interest of “avoid a revolt that will get my head chopped off” is quite a huge… head start.

…I don’t think Mia liked that pun. My apologies.

On that note, one specific example that sticks out to me right now: Mia selling her prized hairpiece in order to help fund a hospital. Her motivation might have been as simple as “that way it won’t end up in the hands of those horrible revolutionaries”, but in that moment, Mia has grasped one of Christianity’s big teachings: the impermanence of physical possessions. Heck, that’s something even I admittedly struggle with sometimes, and Mia has grasped that concept pretty much perfectly. I can’t see that as anything but admirable.

Jeskai Angel: I think maybe the difference between enlightened self-interest and selfishness is not time (i.e., long-term vs. short-term benefits), but that the former does not exclude looking out for the interests of others, and the latter does. A person can act partially out of self-interest without elevating their interest above the good of everyone else, but a truly selfish person is always willing to prioritize themselves over anyone else.

stardf29: I agree with you, but that does bring up an interesting thought: perhaps always prioritizing ourselves over others is the most damaging thing we can do to ourselves.

Also, when I say “short-term” versus “long-term”, I’m not strictly speaking about time, but “scope” in general. Which includes more than just time, but also things like our emotional well-being and other psychological factors that one could probably do an entire graduate thesis on. There’s probably a better phrase than “long-term/short-term” here…

Jeskai Angel: Maybe “long-term” = effort to consider all the consequences, “short-term” = paying attention only to desired consequences?

Gaheret: Well, Aristotle would say that we always move when attracted by goods, which are goods for ourselves and also open to others, as common goods. Freedom consists in the ability to choose one of these goods over others, and a good use of freedom would be the “right reason”, which brings us to the best we can achieve, integrally considered. Good things usually give us some pleasure and are also beneficial in the long term, because they are in accord with our nature. Beyond Aristotle, one could say that such a decision can also be a vehicle of love: you choose to bring good things to your friends that you share, in a way, to remove obstacles, to enjoy reality… Ideally, growing in virtue means also learning to be attracted by higher goods and enjoy them more fully. So, there is always some good for us, direct or indirect, in helping others. We are not totally disinterested: only God is, because God does not need anything, and gives of His abundance.

So, in this view, the problem with being an egoist is that either one does not follow the right reason because of a blind spot concerning others, as in the one who eats all the cake when it would be best to enjoy it together, or that one loses part of the good he could enjoy. For example, if Mia defends Tiona without thinking about Tiona herself, she gets less of that interaction that if she appreciated the good there is in defending others when they need it.

This sometimes happens to her, but less and less. She is not so clueless now, and growing.

7. What are your favorite quotes or moments from the novel?

Jeskai Angel: How am I supposed to answer this?! There are SO MANY wonderful lines and scenes in this book. For sheer awesomeness, I think it’s hard to top the scene where Mia rescues Tiona from the bullies:

“Excuse me, but what exactly are you girls doing? …It seemed to me that you were behaving rather rudely toward one of my subjects. …You see, I love all my subjects, and I love them equally. Even the child of the poorest beggar shall not be denied my affection. No matter who they are, so long as they belong to the Empire, I will not condone any discourtesy toward them.”

If any scenes rivals the above, it might be the duel between Abel and The Artist Formerly Known As Remno’s First Prince, especially after Abel hears his brother trashtalk Mia and threaten to abuse her:

“‘You can call me whatever you want. Mock me. Insult me. I don’t care. But,’ Abel stared at his brother with a piercing gaze, ‘if you say one more bad word about Princess Mia…’ He thought of the girl known as ‘the Great Sage of the Empire.’ He thought of the light she’d brought to his world. For her to be robbed of that radiant aura… Was absolutely unacceptable. …’I won’t allow you to insult her any further!'”

Cue the OHKO.

On a humorous note, I’ll offer the scene before that fight: “Mia didn’t actually think badly of Abel’s brother. She… didn’t think anything of him at all, in fact. She’d completely forgotten he existed until this very moment.” What makes this so great is that throughout the book, Mia keeps forming connections she didn’t have in her first life, seeking allies, making a point of remembering names and faces; she is far more humble and caring and interested in other people than she was in her first life. She even remembers the names of other people’s servants! The ONLY person in the whole story she so completely disregards in her second life…is Abel’s brother.

Gaheret: When the worldbuilding started becoming evocative and unique for me: “The Azure Moon Ministry was the administrative agency for the capital city. The Golden Moon Ministry handled taxes. The Scarlet Moon Ministry was the administrative agency for the surrounding rural regions. The Jade Moon Ministry handled foreign affairs. Finally, the Ebony Moon Ministry commanded the seven armies of the empire”.

Despite not liking Sion on the whole, I agree with Jeskai that this fragment about him is quite compelling:

“To Sion, the ability to feel righteous fury — to be justly angry in the face of evil deeds — was an essential quality for those who reigned over the people. However, how many people could truly empathize with the suffering of others? How many could go as far as to feel anger as if they themselves had been wronged? Even Sion, who had been ready to step in himself, would have done so out of a sense of duty. It came from the mind, not the heart. Faced with Mia’s genuine anger toward injustice, he felt that he saw in her the makings of a ruler who truly lived up to his ideals”.

“Sion Sol Sunkland was born the eldest son of the King of Sunkland. “He who reigns over the people must believe firmly in fairness and hold justice close to his heart.”

This was funny, too:

“Unbeknownst to her, the “knowledge” that she was counting on was entirely based on the romance novel Anne’s sister had written. In other words… Not once did she suspect that Anne — five years her senior — was a complete novice at relationships who had never herself been in love before. “How promising,” she said, completely unaware of her terrible misconception. “With you at my side, Anne, I feel as though I’ve gained an army ten thousand strong!”

This was a great way to introduce a character:

“Abel Remno knew he was a loser. Likewise, he knew Remno was a second-rate kingdom. It possessed neither the rich history and tradition of Sunkland nor the sheer might of Tearmoon. Outmatched by even Belluga in influence and authority, it failed to garner any real respect from its neighbors”.

And this one, again about Abel:

“He focused every ounce of his efforts on one single thing. He raised his sword, and he swung it down. He repeated it. Then he did it again, faster. And faster. He devoted all his time to honing the motion. Ever since the night of the dance party, he’d done nothing else. Day after day, he poured his heart and soul into practicing that one swing. And now, after all the sweat and fatigue and pain, it was time. He swung. Today, he would conquer genius. Today, he would slay a god!”

stardf29: So as I mentioned earlier, one of my favorite moments is when Mia sold her beloved hairpin in order to help fund a hospital to prevent a plague. Two great quotes to go with this moment:

“No matter how precious the item, no matter how closely you try to hold onto it, there will be a day… It may go missing, or it may break… but its time will come. Knowing this, the most we can do is to use it well, and thereby give it meaning.”

And then, for something on the funnier side:

And not only was it stolen, it was stolen by a hooligan of a man, rude and violent and with entirely too much beard to be proper. Not that it’d be okay if she was robbed by a handsome fellow with a dashing crop of finely kempt hair, but anyway…

And then a bit later, during a tea party:

“Whatever I did, I did following my heart. There’s no deeper meaning to it than that.” Which was really just a more diplomatic version of, “What? I did it ’cause I wanted to. Got a problem with that, punk?”

Later on, Mia forgives a horse for sneezing on her:

“Oh please. Why would I possibly want to have a horse killed over a dress?”

For Mia, it was extremely obvious which one was more valuable. A dress couldn’t help her run from the revolutionary army. A horse could.

And, finally, the one point where I am in complete solidarity with the narrator:

Anne and Tiona seemed equally mesmerized by the two princes as they watched with wide, spellbound eyes. As for Liora… She poked at the meat in the sandwich, confirmed that it was well-roasted, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

Liora, you see, was a girl who knew what was important.

8. Final Comments

Jeskai Angel: I want to express how greatly I appreciated many-short-chapters format of the book. So many LNs have like three 80-page chapters, and it’s stupid. Like, if the chapters are obnoxiously long, why bother with any chapter divisions at all? As Tearmoon Empire demonstrates, chapter divisions are not some kind of natural resource that needs to be rationed. The capacity to include another chapter break in a book is never depleted. Please, authors the world over, if you’re reading this, I beg of you, write using more but shorter chapters. Please and thank you.

stardf29: I think the whole “having lots of chapters” thing is left over from the novel’s origins as a web novel, where it’s more natural to just post a small chapter regularly. Though many such web novels, upon transitioning to light novel form, get several small chapters combined into larger chapters. So this might be more of an editorial decision. Maybe it’s because in Japan, light novels are still a largely physical medium, and combining chapters saves paper by reducing page breaks? It’s definitely better for e-books to have more chapters because it’s easier to jump to a specific part of the book with hyperlinked table of contents.

Whatever the case, looks like Tearmoon Empire kept all of its chapters in the transition to light novel form. Maybe it’s because each chapter has a witty little title? So maybe the real advice is not just to write lots of small chapters, but to give each chapter a title so that your editor has a reason not to combine them all into larger chapters.

Gaheret: I can´t wait for the next volume! I want it to go full French Revolution.

Jeskai Angel: According to the Amazon page for vol. 2 (which becomes available 19 July), the next book does feature a revolution.

Earlier when we were speculating about the narrator, someone (Gaheret, I think?) suggested the narrator might be an older Mia in the future. But I remembered a certain comment by the narrator, about how Mia disliked her bad ending so much, she restarted the whole game to play over again. It’s an obvious video game joke. But assuming Mia’s world is reminiscent of late 18th/early 19th century France, an older Mia wouldn’t have the frame of reference to make such a comment.

stardf29: Ah yes, there is that to take into account. So… maybe the narrator is one of Mia’s descendants, after Mia has told of her story to her family and they started to realize how things got misunderstood, and then as her story continued to be passed down the generations, that sentiment that she was “misunderstood” also got embellished. In this way, the somewhat unreliableness of the narrator can be explained.

As a final comment for me, I should say that I really like the illustrations in this volume. They are clean, cute, and show quite a lot of emotion. I definitely wish there were more of them, but we still got a good batch here.

=====

Whew, that was a lot to talk about! Of course, we would love to hear what you think about the novel, so post your own answers and thoughts in the comments!

As a reminder, we will be discussing Infinite Dendrogram, Vol. 4 next! The discussion for that will be posted on June 23rd. See you then!

#Light Novels #Christianity #Tearmoon Empire #Tearmoon Teikoku Monogatari #Articles #Author: stardf29 #Author: JeskaiAngel #Author: Gaharet

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hi-i-love-u-bitch · 5 years

Text

Excuse me! But where is my Sanders Sides Gamer AU???

Voices in my head: Gee Bunny, it seems you have no problem writing a lot of other fics and stuff yet you still haven’t even finished the next chapter of your Spiderverse fic???

Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP DISEMBODIED VOICES IN MY HEAD!!! IF YOU WANT THAT FIC DONE SO BADLY TELL MY LOGIC AND CREATIVITY TO GET THEIR ASSES IN GEAR AND GIVE ME SOME GOD DAMN INSPIRATION!!!!

Voices in my head:.....

Me: Yeah, that’s what I thought! Anyways, idk if I just missed a memo or something but I haven’t seen any Gamer AU of my boys and that is a crime in and of itself! Like, how dare! But fret not, I am here to provide content (Read: headcannons) that you did not ask for! Let us begin! Or should I say start!

(please note that I am not a gaming expert so feel free to add or correct stuff)

NOW WITH A PART 2!!!!

MAIN SQUAD

Roman Rosewood

Obviously loves RPGs! Anything with a good story line really! Or has medieval fantasy aesthetic!

Skyrim, Diablo, Undertale, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, Fallout, Red Dead Redemption, Undertales, Dragon Age, God of War Dark Souls, Assassins Creed, Earthbound, etc.

Played West of Loathing just so he could rip on it but actually ended up loving it and spending way to many hours playing. Then he found out there was a game called Kingdom of Loathing by the same creators and went down that rabbit hole as well.

He was iffy about getting into JRPGs but then Virgil convinced him to play Persona 5 and he absolutely fell in love with the music!

All the music in his phone is either from musicals or Video games!

Also really likes choose your own adventure games like Detroit: Become Human, Life is Strange, and Telltale Games

So much video game merch! Usually figurines because he likes to make little shelves and display cases for them.

He also really likes multiplayer games because he’s a social butterfly and likes to play with his squad.

Sucks at first person shooter games but still willingly plays Fortnight or Call of Duty or Left for Dead with his friends because he doesn’t want to be a drag and complain. But also they sometimes die in game in the most hilarious ways and it just leaves everybody wheezing.

Virgil Dante

Horror games, obvs!

All about that dark aesthetic!

Devil May Cry, Silent Hill, Fran Bow, Sally Face, Resident Evil, The Witch’s House, Amnesia, Little Nightmares, Bendy and The Ink Machine, Alice: Madness Returns, SCP-Containment, Pony Island, etc.

Yes, he’s played all the Five Nights At Freddy’s games. It’s a good series and it isn’t his fault the fandom is bat shit crazy and full of ten year olds! Fuck you Roman!

Every time the Walking Dead comes out he knows he’ll end up crying by the end of it. He and the squad make and event out of it.

Japanese horror games are usually his favorite because they deal more with the psychological aspects of horror instead of the jump scares

So, yes, he’s also a fan of Corps Party and Fatal Frame

Also really good at first person shooters because he has a really steady hand (you usually have to when playing horror games least you want to restart the level) and it pisses Roman off to no end every time Virgil randomly headshots him.

Usually likes to by merch in the form of posters, t-shirts, or beanies. He only buys figurines if it’s a game he really, really likes.

At first didn’t know why people kept bugging him to play Doki Doki Literature Club but then he finally caved and...oh...that’s why.

Logan Mill

My boy loves puzzle and strategy games yo!

Legend of Zelda, Portal, Tetris, Unravel, World of Goo, Inside, Limbo, Pokemon, Shadow of the Colossus, StarCraft, Command and Conquer, Age of Empire, Heart of Iron, World of Warcraft, etc.

He likes Overwatch but doesn’t like playing with people online so he usual solos or asks the others to play. But that too usually ends in chaos.

Hates rage games because he gets frustrated easily and has broken at least four keyboards and two controllers

He still plays them anyways because he can beat it damn it! Just give him a minute!

Enjoys the God of War series despite all the mythological inaccuracies

He plays a lot of Minecraft to relax or destress and has build beautiful works of architecture and sometimes entire cities.

He thought it was stupid and childish and was embarrassed about it for a long time until the squad came over to his house one day uninvited and caught him playing. He was getting ready for them to make fun of him but they instead gushed about how AMAZING everything looked and how TALENTED he was for building all himself.

Logan ends up showing them how to play afterwards and they work together to make weird sculptures and complex tunnels underground.

He likes practical merch like backpacks, coffee mugs, pencil holders, notebooks, ect. as well as a few t-shirts and novelty ties.

Yes, he does collect Pokemon cards!

Patton Adley

Silly dating sims, farming games, and any cute game really! Plus a few side scroller games!

Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, Slime Rancher, The Sims, Dream Daddy, Animal Crossing, Kirby, Monster Prom, Hatoful Boyfriend, Scribblenauts, Night In The Woods, Ni Nu Kuni, etc.

Big Nintendo fan!

He made the mistake of playing Doki Doki Literature Club without reading the warning tags and regrets it immensely...still a good game though.

He did the same thing with Huni Pop but that one made him laugh more then anything and he kind of got addicted to it. Then he found out there was a sequel called HuniCam so he went down that rabbit hole too.

He likes a lot of phone app games too like Cut the Rope, Neko Atsume, and Candy Crush.

Loves trashy dating app games, he thinks they’re so funny and cheesy

He was addicted to Mystic Messenger for a long while

Just because he has his preference doesn’t mean he won’t try other games too, Logan got him hooked on World of Warcraft (though really he did that to everyone), Virgil showed him Hollow Knight, and Roman suggested he play Undertales.

Prefers merch in the form of plushies and key chains!

He likes to bake and decorate cookies, cakes and pastries in the form of his favorite video game characters.

RED SQUAD

Duncan [Deceit] Adley (Patton’s twin)

A lot of first person shooter and combat games!

Doom Series, Super Smash Bros, Mortal Combat, Halo, Fortnight, Grand Theft Auto, Street Fighter, Tekken, Soul Calibur, Half-Life, Team Fortress, Destiny, Wolfenstein, Bio Shock, Splatoon, PUBg etc.

Patton was the one that introduced him to Splatoon and he won’t admit that it’s actually super fun.

Doesn’t mind story driven games and RPGs but he really just wants something he can zone out to and relax

He likes to troll people online, mainly assholes picking on little kids who just want to play.

He once teamed up with a group of kids on Call of Duty solely for the purpose of collectively kicking the asses of this groups of so called “real gamers” that were being jerks.

Has memorized all the combos! He doesn’t have time to sit and look up a cool finishing move, he needs it now!

Always mains the weakest/most useless character in fighting games and still manages to kick everyone’s ass.

Doesn’t have a preference in merch and usually grabs whatever he likes be it figurines, t-shirts, posters, plushies, or whatever, so long as he likes the game it comes from.

Has several tattoos from his favorite games

Emile Picani

Classic retro games, cartoonish games, and Nintendo are his jam broham!

Mario, Classic Sonic, Paper Boy, Transylvania, Spyro, Pac Man, All the Saga Disney games, Duck Hunt, Mario Kart, Galaga, Mega Man, Donkey Kong, Secret of Mana, Banjo-Kazooie, Conker’s Bad Fur Day, etc.

Absolutely fell in love with Shovel Knight when it came out!

Remy got him into all the indie pixel games: Towerfall, Terraria, Owlboy, Hotline Miami, Papers Please, Celeste, One Shot, etc.

Duncan was the one that introduced him to Cuphead and the usually play it together and see how far each of them can go without dying.

The game is difficult but the art is still so breathtaking!

Likes the occasional psychological thriller game

Bet Virgil showed him Alice: Madness Returns and Doki Doki Literature Club (after he’s played it of course)

Likes plushies and figurine merch with the occasional poster and coffee mug.

Likes to doodle a lot of his fav video game characters and cartoons and is actually really good at it. He helped design most of Duncan’s tattoos.

Remy Knightly

Likes a lot of indie games and old online flash games!

The Stanley Parables, Oxenfree, Inside, Firewatch, Super MeatBoy, The Binding of Issac, Donut County, Henry Stickman series, Impossible Quiz, Crush the Castle series, Hyper Light Drifter, etc.

He always gets everybody hooked on one game or another

He convinced everyone to play Undertales so for like a month they all went through a HUGE Undertales faze.

Was the actual, ACTUAL one that showed Duncan Cuphead because he knew the dork would be reminded of Emile because of the animation and would want to show it to him and play multiplayer (*cough* subtle matchmaker *cough*)

(Do not be fooled, he is a pinning boy himself)

Is up to date in all the gossip of the latest games and consuls, indie or mainstream! He’s in the know, know and if you need to know something chances are Remy probably knows it.

Weeds out through all the indie horror games for Virgil and recommends what he thinks are the best ones.

Same thing with Logan and his puzzle games, he’s usually is able to find very strange ones and Logan seems to likes those best.

Obviously has a lot of merch in coffee mug and thermal form as well as a few key chains.

Occasionally streams on Twitch with Duncan and Emile (sometimes inviting the main squad too), they’re commentary is usual hilarious.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remy sanders #sleep sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #emile picani #red #prinxeity #logicality #(kind of mainly in my head)#video games #gamer au

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revoevokukil · 5 years

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On the character writing of Captain Marvel’s antagonists

How is Captain Marvel’s villain game?

The MCU’s story of how Carol Danvers comes to realise what gives her the capacity to do heroic things is rooted in an intimate tale of self-discovery, knowing oneself, and embracing oneself as one is. It is not a classic story of confrontation between good and evil and therefore the classic hero’s journey formula does not apply. Carol is exactly the same personality at the end of the film as she is at the beginning of the film, with the crucial difference that by the end, she is in a position to control and honestly evaluate her own life narrative – she has regained solid ground under her feet without which no one can pass moral judgments or make decisions that affect the lives of other people.

Carol’s origin story is not about punching someone into remorse and submission, but about finding herself (almost literally) – which means that the antagonists of the film are the friends she makes along the way. The opposing force is a deeply personal one and climbs into the protagonist’s soul rather than threatens their life. That makes Yon-Rogg not as one-dimensional as people seem to think. He’s more of a foil than an outright antagonist to Carol on a personal level, but it’s hard to say whether he is overall meant to be represented as a misguided Kree patriot or a hammy villain because the former gets too vague a development and the latter just does not work – war is war, they’re all dirty, and Supreme Intelligence takes the cake here. Since Yon-Rogg’s motivations are strongly informed by his role as the poster boy of the Kree military, the Kree-Skrull plotline actually should be elaborated upon if they wanted to convey him as “the guilty party” in both storylines that push the story forward.

I’ve tried to identify with the villains of the film in order to write the following; consider that it is not a pleasant exercise but an intriguing one nonetheless.

Storylines

There are two storylines that intersect in the film and push the plot onwards: Carol’s unfolding quest to make sense of her past, and the Kree-Skrull war. The twist in Carol’s personal storyline results in a change up in regard to how to view the Kree-Skrull war, but it’s not ground-breakingly illuminating, since the war between these races is never sufficiently elaborated upon and it is not the main emotional centre of the film – how Carol feels about the Kree and her mentor is! Therefore, the antagonists’ character development unfolds in layers.

Consider for a minute, the Kree ideology. Collectivist, imperialist, hyper-militaristic, superior in technology and culture. Roman Empire seems like an appropriate comparison. They see themselves as the rightful rulers by conquest who have a duty to maintain order, safety, and stability within their empire. Realpolitiks of empires. Hyper-militaristic inclinations translate onto the individual level as well where the collective interest is set before one’s individual interests. And it translates into Yon-Rogg’s motivations and outlook very clearly, though with some interesting exceptions that add to his character writing.

· He is a devout warrior, unshakably loyal to the Kree’s cause and their claims of superiority.

Yet he is not fond of the scorched earth tactics of the overly zealous Accusers.

He avoids entangling civilians in the Kree-Skrull conflict to the very last second (he also avoids shooting Carol outright in their very first meeting).

He genuinely cares about his soldiers’ lives, and they trust him a lot in return, even when he is misleading other high-ranking officers in the Kree army (Ronan).

He prioritises the good of all Kree above all else (instead of, notably, personal power).

He genuinely believes in what he is trying to teach Vers (emotions should not rule your good judgment in a conflict situation; the Kree’s enlightened rule is for the better for all); it is not only part of their cover-up scheme.

He views the Skrulls’ means of fighting as dishonourable because of their penchant for subterfuge rather than direct combat. In another context that would be called being “honourable” in combat.

So, as a Kree, an authoritarian space fascist, he is pretty reasonable and a more rounded than your standard evil for evil’s sake goon.

What to make of him in relation to Carol?

It’s twisted from its very beginning, since Yon-Rogg effectively saves Carol’s life by stealing it from her. He hesitates to kill Carol outright by the lake. Then, ironically, saves her life by abducting her as she verges between life and death. And then, metaphorically, the Kree kill Carol Danvers anyway. Only to “bring her back to life” through the blood transfusion from Yon-Rogg and through the presumed genetic meddling to make it stick (her entire blood supply and blood reproduction has to get replaced). A “rebirth” with no memory of past life, but with cosmic powers and superior physiology to contain it. It’s as messy as they come.

That bit of writing also establishes how unnervingly intimate a bond they share (something that comes to underlie a sense of possessiveness and ownership on his part, and confirms that this is not healthy). To see Carol succeed strokes Yon-Rogg’s ego – he made the right call as a soldier, he is part of the origins of her powers, and he is a good teacher. It also makes you think, was it (stupid) curiosity, principles, or admiration that stopped him from shooting Carol? She had almost brought him down in a plane fight, after all. And while he acts under orders from SI, I doubt Yon-Rogg protests its wisdom too much – it is highly likely the Kree see themselves as genuinely benevolent for saving this human and giving her so much by making her one of them (see their sense of superiority, again). If anything, I would expect an AI (not Yon-Rogg) not to want to risk leaving Carol alive and liable to turn against them.

It is said in interviews that Yon-Rogg both appreciates and is irritated by Carol’s “humanity” and quirks. He also seems to me as perfectly aware that what he is doing is wrong on a personal level. Over six years, he and Carol grow close – he is her crutch in Kree culture, Carol trusts him a lot (coming to him after her nightmares) and looks up to him/wants to prove herself to him, and there is even some implicit flirtation between them at the beginning of the film (“it’s me you see, isn’t it?”). That level of friendship entails some empathy. He may be ruthless, but he is not a psychopath (or is only a psychopath to the extent all devout patriotic soldiers are). For despite all that happens to Carol, she is not aware of any of it, and she ends up liking her life with the Kree by the time the film starts. She has military background, she likes to prove herself and be good at things, and the Kree never treat her badly (minus the grand deception part, ofc). From Yon-Rogg’s perspective then, as long as the lie is not found out, it is not objectively a bad life, is it? He has a soft spot for his favourite student (their relationship has been described as “tender” among other things). He has faith in her (“She’s stronger than you think!”), is (over-)protective of her, but wants to genuinely see her succeed - albeit on the Kree’s terms and not her own. He is trying to do his best as a mentor to a soldier and as a soldier to his people, and sincerely believes it will make everything easier for Carol, but because of the manner in which Carol has come to be his pupil, all of what is happening here can only become one huge poisoned chalice. However, you can see how someone like him can justify lying to a person for 6 years - longer still, had Carol not happened to crash on C53.

The truth of the matter is, of course, that Carol due to her amnesia does not have a choice regarding the narrative into which she is thrust, and that is the inherent evil that she overcomes in the film – taking back control over her life’s narrative and thus also gaining the necessary faith in oneself that comes with knowing oneself. The Kree have given her plenty, making up a big part of her (literally), but by infringing on her right to self-determination most horribly in the process. “The best version she could be” can ever only be pushed upon her in this state, like it happens so often in overly controlling families and partnerships.

Consider seriously that while Yon-Rogg’s advice to “control emotions and not let them cloud your judgment” may echo the belittling gender dynamics of our world, it is only an analogy – the Kree are not putting Carol in this situation in the film because she is a woman (they’re arguably rather progressive about their gender and sexual politics by the looks of it). It is not inherently a wrong or bad advice to drill into a soldier, and that is what Carol is – a soldier. However, as it happens, autobiographical long term memory triggers most strongly based on emotions, so suppressing them also counteracts the possibility that Carol might regain her memories. The Kree may well not even know what Carol could do if she was more in touch with herself and her powers – their foremost concern is winning “her heart and mind” so that she doesn’t turn against them. Again, they are personal, psychological villains. So, by tying her more strongly to Kree culture and ways, as well as training her according to that dictum, Yon-Rogg’s hitting two birds with one stone, really. I do not doubt that his orders from SI were, and his mind is set on, ensuring her loyalty by any means necessary. However, in comparison to, for instance, Bucky, the Kree do not literally constantly torture and brainwash her to turn her into a vegetable. It’s a “golden cage” type situation from the perspective of these “benevolent” aliens.

In that sense, the ‘enemy’ of the film is not so much the meme of a “debate me guy” or your ordinary our world chauvinist, or patriarchy (they are analogies, but not inherent to the conflict of the film), but the insidious disregard the Kree show toward individuals and their right to self-determination. As a culture, that is not their thing. And as other cultures are seen as lesser than them, they see their ways as backwards. Arguably that disregard underlies and precedes gendered readings because it applies universally (would they have done anything differently if Carol had been a man? I don’t think so) (also, it underlies the war ideology behind subjugating other races). And war justifies everything, of course, which is the second strongest ‘evil’ motif in the film. That’s pretty good, layered writing, in truth.

Both ‘evils’ are represented in Yon-Rogg’s and Supreme Intelligence’s characterisations, but only the latter remains abstract enough to be the literal representation of it whereas Yon-Rogg is still written with some “humanity” for the lack of a better word. He is very much conveyed as a product of his society, but not even a one-dimensional caricature of that. Sure, we do not get any insight into his inner thoughts, but not once did the details I have written out here give me the impression that Carol is as upset as she is because of betrayal by a lump of evil with no moving parts inside. I can appreciate that in an antagonistic force, because it adds to the hero’s internal confusion if their starting out premise is “friends with my enemy”. There is extreme pragmatism more than there is cruelty in the villain’s intentions. But cruelty follows anyway, because freedom and predetermination cannot not be in conflict, and very rarely does cruelty not follow when ends justify the means quite as brutally as in the case of sacrificing someone’s freedoms for another’s greater cause.

For Yon-Rogg that is not an issue, though he himself is as deprived of freedom under this ideology as Carol is. But Carol’s moral system hails from a different place.

I can relate to it and find it interesting, and not at all one-dimensional. Best of all, it is possible to build upon it.

#captain marvel #carol danvers #yon-rogg #supreme intelligence #kree #character analysis #plot analysis #story deconstruction #brie larson #jude law

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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784.

Have you ever worn those Drunk Goggles? >> I vaguely remember seeing those as like a gag gift at Spencer’s or something, but I’ve never worn any. I’ve been drunk, though, so I think I’ve got the experience of wearing Drunk Goggles well covered.

Which decade before the 90s had the best makeup trends? >> I don’t know anything about makeup trends before the eighties, now that I think about it.

Can you agree to disagree, or usually get upset over conflicting views? >> I can be upset sometimes, especially if the thing being debated is something I have a particular personal investment in. But I have learned how to be upset by myself, and not make it anyone else’s problem. (Which leads to a lot of unresolved feelings, I’ve also learned, but hey.)

Does it bug you when long socks are constantly falling down? >> I don’t wear long socks, and that’s one reason why.

Rodeos – entertaining, or cruel? >> I don’t know anything about rodeos and therefore do not have an opinion.

Why can’t politicians debate politely? >> Because it’s assumed that the general public will not remain engaged unless there’s some sort of drama. ...Honestly, I can see where they get that impression, but it can also be alienating for those of us who aren’t looking for entertainment from our politicians.

Who is the best female rocker? Why? >> Floor Jansen is one of my favourites. So is Skin, from Skunk Anansie.

Can you even taste a difference between Cheez Its and Cheez Nips? >> I don’t know, I’ve not had both of them.

What about between Pepsi and Coke or Sprite and 7Up? >> Yeah, I’ve tasted differences between both of those and I have preferences.

Do you care what kind of toilet paper you use? >> Yes, I care. I don’t like either extreme (too rough or too soft).

What color of roses do you find the prettiest? >> I’ve never given it any consideration.

Which celebrity has the cutest butt? >> I don’t know. But Sarah Snook, who plays Siobhan Roy on Succession, has a pretty eye-catching booty.

Do you still have any decent arcades nearby? >> Not to my knowledge.

After a holiday, do you go to the store to get candy on sale? >> No, but I might get some for Sparrow.

Did Marilyn Monroe look better before or after cosmetic surgery? >> ---

Bullfighters who get gored kind of had it coming, right? >> I mean, yeah.

If you make surveys, do you care what people rate them? >> I don’t make them, but if I did, that wouldn’t be a concern of mine. The only time I’m tempted to make a survey is because there are questions that it surprises me that no one ever asks, and that I’d love to answer myself. So I’d be making it for my benefit, primarily, and if anyone else enjoys it then that’s just icing on an already-good cake.

Have you ever accidentally found porn when looking for something else? >> Yeah, but it doesn’t happen much nowadays.

Ever run into those ‘celebrity lookalike porn’ blogs? >> Long time ago, yeah. You know, before tumblr changed its policy.

If you’re not religious, is the Bible basically just an old collection of short stories? >> My understanding of the Bible is that it’s a collection of laws and writings -- stories, poetry, letters, op-ed pieces (lol). The New Testament in particular seems to be just a bunch of letters appended to four different accounts of one dude’s birth and early life and concluded with a really dramatic callout post for the Roman Empire. I am very fond of this giant mishmosh of opinions and dramatically-recounted stories, tbh, it’s really interesting from both a historical and mythological perspective.

Do you think religious leaders just like to manipulate people? >> Of course.

Why do so many fans with OTP’s insist that their ship is real? Even when the writers (or real people that they ship) tell them it isn’t? >> I don’t know. I’ve never really delved into why that’s so important to a lot of fans, although it does intrigue me. I think it might have something to do with the varieties of ways in which people interact with and understand stories, but I’m not able to articulate exactly what I mean right now, I don’t have the words all organised in my brain and ready to go.

Do you draw fanart of anything? >> No, I don’t draw. I write fan fiction.

Do annoying city kids ever loiter outside your library and harass people? >> I’ve never witnessed any harassment outside of a library around here. That seems more likely to have happened in NYC, though.

Do you like to hang out at your local library? >> Occasionally. I used to basically live at the library when I was in the City, because I was homeless. I think I don’t go to the library as often anymore because of that -- it’s registered in my mind as “the place you go and sit in all day because you can’t go anywhere else” and it disorients me if I do it now.

On that subject, do you like the smell of books? >> Some books.

What’s on your Reading List, so-to-speak, right now? >> I’m between books right now. I’m still debating whether I want to try to finish The Denial of Death or whether I want to give it up for now, and the fact that I’ve been debating that for like a week most likely means that I should give it up. I can always pick it up again at a later date.

Read any great non-fiction books lately? >> Sure.

What do you like on your burger? >> Lettuce, onion, bacon, mustard or bbq sauce, some kind of cheese (preferably pepper jack). Jalapeño peppers can be good too.

What do you NOT like on your burger? >> Mayo, sometimes tomato (I go back and forth, it just depends on the day).

Do you like ‘loose meat’ sandwiches? >> I’m not sure what that is, but the name isn’t too enticing, let me tell you.

Have you ever heard of the restaurant Maid Rite? >> No.

What is the best thing to put in a grilled cheese (other than cheese)? >> I don’t even remember what things I like in a grilled cheese, I haven’t had one in ages. Oh! HopCat sells one that has honey and apple in it and that’s pretty good. I do like “weird” grilled cheeses.

Homemade tomato soup, or just out of a can? >> Not out of a can, that’s for sure. There are some premade ones that I do like, but they’re never canned (usually they’ll come in cartons).

Favorite thing to see in museums? >> I like sci-tech museums, so, that stuff.

Have you ever seen an unwrapped mummy in person? >> No.

What things have people shamed you for? >> The kind of music I like, the kind of people I think are pretty, the way I look, the way I behave/my idiosyncrasies, my emotional responses, my needs... I mean, basically almost anything you can think of.

Do you always reply to private messages? (On any website) >> I usually do.

What device do you seem to always be buying batteries for? >> I don’t think anything I currently use takes disposable batteries.

What’s worse – snow, or all the mud after it melts? >> Definitely the latter.

Are there any 'adult stores’ in your area? >> Probably. Not in this city proper, but like... around. Somewhere.

Have you been inside of them/shopped there before? >> I’ve been to a lot of them in NYC.

Do you watch The Masked Singer? Any theories? >> No.

Favorite Alfred Hitchcock film? >> I don’t have one.

Do you like Funko Pop figurines? >> Meh. The novelty wears off pretty quickly.

If so, do you have any? Which ones would you like to have? >> Yeah, having a few is how I know the novelty wears off pretty quickly, hah. I have two Marvel!Heimdalls (from two different movies), a Roland and a Walter from the Dark Tower movie, Jesse and Cassidy from the Preacher TV show, Lucio and Reaper from Overwatch, and Vivec from The Elder Scrolls. I actually had to go looking in the living room because I’d forgotten I had that many. That’s another few items for the donation / giveaway bin...

Which ones do you think they should make (but haven’t yet)? >> At this point, I think they should stop, lmao. There are so fucking many.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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outweek30 · 5 years

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Is adoption an alternative for lesbians and gays seeking legally-sanctioned relationships?

When John and Craig met in an Upper East Side bar in September, 1980, it could have been another classical Manhattan tale of two tricks passing in the night. The pair had little in common. Craig Burns was blond, boyish, 23. He was between jobs, visiting friends in New York. John Eberhardt, 58, was a Fire Island pioneer, having hammered together scores of beach houses in Cherry Grove during the 1940s before constructing his own wedding cake of a mansion, The Belvedere.

Nonetheless, John and Craig did what mismatched people often do. They fell in love. The next week John invited Craig out to the island and, as Craig recalls, "I kinda never left." This past spring, months shy of their ninth anniversary, the couple went one step further to acknowledge their relationship; Craig Burns became Craig Eberhardt. In a judge's chambers in West Palm Beach, John legally adopted his lover. Craig became his son.

* * * *

Adoption is yet another alternative for gays and lesbians who seek legal recognition of their relationships. Many do it to ensure financial protection for lovers in the event of their death; others see it as the only same-sex union likely to be sanctioned by the law in this era.

But adoption is not a foolproof shelter against the bigotry of our legal system. In the early 1980s in New York State, gay adoptions caused a stir in the legal system, challenging the definition of adoption and provoking progressive decisions in two important cases: Adult Anonymous I and II.

In the latter, handled by Lambda Legal Defense Fund's William J. Thom and heard in 1982, a 32-year-old male petitioned to adopt a 43-year-old. Partial motivation was financial; the building where the pair lived was going co-op and the landlord was evicting those not on the lease. Initially dismissed by Family Court, City of New York, the petitioners appealed the case to the State Supreme Court Appellate Division. The decision was reversed and petition granted, since the Family Court decision was based on its narrow interpretation of the nature of family, not the adoption statute itself, which expresses no limitations. "The 'nuclear family' arrangement is no longer the only model of family life in America," the decision challenged.

In addition, constitutional law was cited, where homosexual relations in private are protected in New York under the right to privacy. Through some circuitous logic, it was proposed that a petition for a father-son adoption by two homosexual men raised the spectre of technical incest. However, it was ruled that "incest in general involves blood relatives." More facetious was the subsequent observation: "And, of course, the taboo against incest, grounded in eugenics, has little application in a relationship which can hardly result in offspring."

However, these legal strides were to be reversed two years later. The New York State Court of Appeals, filtering decisions through a screen of homophobia, effectively put a halt to overtly homosexual same-sex adoptions by lovers. In the Matter of the Adoption of Robert Paul P. in 1984, a 57-year-old man was denied his petition to adopt his 50-year-old lover, although they had lived together continuously for 25 years.

Michael Lavery, a New York City lawyer and co-founder of the Lambda Legal Defense Fund, handled the case. Lavery, a consistent fighter for gay and lesbian rights, has argued cases for Dignity, the gay Catholic group, and Integrity, the Episcopal sect. He acknowledges the misstep made by the two lovers: they did not attempt to hide the sexual nature of their relationship. The legal gay-bashing continued; the court questioned the validity of adoption as a way to halt an eviction. "It is nothing more than a cynical distortion of the function of adoption."

Most damning of all is this paragraph: "Adoption was never intended as a haven where parties might shelter emotional relationships for which no statutory provision has been made. If the homosexual relationship is to receive legal sanction as a family unit, such recognition must come from the legislature, and not the courts through the guise of adoption."

* * * *

John and Craig were inseparable during the first three months together. In December, the pair were visiting John's cousin, who is also gay, in California. Walking through the celebrated Forest Lawn Cemetery one sunny afternoon, observing the gaudy sculpture and meticulous landscaping, John and Craig came upon a small stone bench. Carved into the decoration was an Irish quotation about true love lasting forever. The lovers impulsively joined hands and recited the quote. "From then on, we decided we were a married couple," Craig said.

But both knew that a two-minute wedding in a cemetery held no legal weight. And as the years passed, and John and Craig grew closer, they began thinking about events that could separate them. The question of a legal relationship became more insistent this past year. A friend of the couple, a septuagenarian psychologist from Manhattan had successfully adopted his 54-year-old lover in order to pass on his magnificent Riverside Drive apartment after he passed on. At the age of 65, John was still hardy and working on constant improvements to The Belvedere. But the issue of a successor loomed, he recalled. Who would look after his 26-room palace?

"For one thing, passing on this empire" — Eberhardt assumes a mock hauteur to his voice — "it takes the right kind of person. I don't know who could do it, except for someone who is talented and capable. My older brother or sister just couldn't manage this, what with the milieu of the town, this gay world." Craig was the only choice.

Craig's concerns about a legal relationship with John were just as keen. "In the case of catastrophic illness, I would be John's next of kin and would have the say about his care and well-being, as opposed to a family throwing me out on the street and putting him in a nursing home." In addition, the pair learned that real estate passed on from father to son is taxed differently than it would be for a commercial transaction. John and Craig were amassing a list of basic rights afforded heterosexuals and denied homosexuals. After several talks with their attorney, who is gay, the two agreed to file papers for adoption.

John recalls the day he and Craig went to the courthouse for their petition, accompanied by their attorney. Amongst rows of mothers and fathers with their small children, John and Craig sat: a smiling gray-haired man of 67, with twinkling mischievous eyes, and a solid, big-limbed blond hunk of 32. Once inside the judge's chambers, Craig recalls, "I told the judge our relationship is like father and son." The matter of ownership of The Belvedere was sidestepped. "They seem to frown on people [petitioning adoption] for financial reasons. They prefer to have people doing it for emotional reasons." The issue of homosexuality was not broached.

Craig required written consent from his parents to agree to the adoption. "They knew that it was, in no way, a slighting of them. I still consider them my parents and our relationship is just as good as it's ever been. This was just a way for John and I becoming legally married like my sister and her husband." In deference to his folks, Craig Richard Burns legally changed his name to Craig Burns Eberhardt. The Burns knew of their son's homosexuality; he had come out to them at age 18 as a prelude to the announcement that he had fallen in love with a man and was moving in with him. The relationship lasted three months.

The final legal step in adoption is the destruction of Craig's original birth certificate, which resides in Chicago. Another one will be issued naming John as his legal parent. Ultimately, there will be no legal record of Craig ever being related to the Burns family.

* * * *

In the case of Robert Paul P., the court avails itself of the same self-reflexive homophobia that was employed in the Hardwick sodomy decision back in 1986. Observing that legislation did not include homosexuals in adoption laws any time since the laws were enacted in 1873, the court questions why the status quo should be upset. Another absurd leap of logic observes that since New York sodomy laws were overturned just in 1980, it seems unlikely that the same legislature would want homosexual relationships themselves acknowledged through adoption. Another decision went so far as to term the notion of sexual intimacy between adopter and adoptee as "utterly repugnant."

In most cases, the court expresses itself carefully in gay or lesbian issues. "Court people are sophisticated enough not to be overt," Lavery said. "The less overt are the ones most difficult to pin down and accuse of anti-gay decisions. No one will say, ‘We're not going to allow this adoption because they're a couple of fags.’”

But read between the lines. The court criticized the men for looking to adoption as a way to legally share a lease and prevent an impending eviction. The legal jargon was merely a smokescreen; once again the court was enacting laws that refused to acknowledge a same-sex relationship. In fact, Lavery points out, "the concept of adopting children is a product of the post-Victorian times." Beginning during the ancient Roman era, adoption was a legal tool for economic, political and social objectives, especially when a wealthy man did not have a natural heir.

But the issue of gay adoption prompts mixed reactions. Paula Ettelbrick, Lambda's legal director since 1985, considers it a flawed strategy, and a compromise to receiving basic gay and lesbian rights. "The effort of our community should be to obtain recognition for our relationships as they are, not subverting nor distorting them into parent-child relationships."

Lavery also has a diplomatic party line. Quietly, he suggests that same-sex couples who maintained the parent-child charade have had their petitions for adoption granted. "One should not assume that after the 1986 Court of Appeals decision, there have been no gay adoptions." After all, he points out, when there is no hitch to the proceedings, the request for adoption is kept confidential. There is no record of successful homosexual adoptions. It is only when the initial petition is denied and the decision appealed that the case finds its way into public record.

Lavery recalls one case where a successful professor in his mid-40s asked to adopt a man in his mid-20s after they had lived together five years. The older man presented himself as advisor and mentor; a role model that the younger man lacked as a child. When challenged as to whether their relationship was actually of a sexual nature, the younger man grimaced and told the court, "No way!" The petition was approved.

He offers an unsettling clarification: "If you were rich and powerful, [lover adoptions] probably could be done," but not for the average guy on he street. Lavery alludes to an internationally- known operatic composer who adopted his young lover, as well as a successful entrepreneur from Chicago who followed suit.

The recent State Court of Appeals case involving Miguel Braschi was a landmark case insofar as acknowledging gay and lesbian relationships. Braschi was awarded his deceased lover's lease after their 10-year union, but this decision will have no impact on the adoption issue, Lavery offered. The courts pulled their punch, he added, in extending the ruling to rent-controlled apartments, not rent-stabilized buildings. Gays and lesbians will still find the need to petition for adoption to maintain cohabitation or property ownership.

The gay psychologist who adopted his younger lover agrees on that count. The man, who requested anonymity, suggested that a real estate pressure group influenced the legislature in the Braschi case. "They've stopped people from using adoption as a way around the problem of losing your apartment if your name is not in the lease. Adoption should be a freedom."

When his lover of 25 years died, the man was left alone in the six-room penthouse apartment on Riverside Drive. Eventually he met his second lover, who moved in six months later. A rash of abusive letters from the man's landlord began to come, insisting that the lover move out since he was not on the lease. "They persecuted us for three years. That was the trick in those days," he said. "They thought the only way to get me out of the apartment was to separate me from my lover. We said 'fuck you' and went through the channels of adoption."

Officially, Lavery will not handle an adoption case where the same-sex petitioners are involved in a sexual relationship. The case is doomed, he insists. NMostcases I handle are done pro bono. It's not worth the time and effort if the case is denied without any advancement." The strategy of gay adoption "is not a winnable battle at this time," he added "A gay sexual relationship will not meet the legal definition of adoption."

"It's necessary to convince heterosexual judges, as well as other gays, that two gay men can have a relationship that is not necessarily sexual." The unspoken message here is: keep a lid on intimacy in court and the petition will sail through. Acknowledge your lover relationship and prepare for rejection. What advice does Lavery give his clients in this situation?

"There's a thin line between deception and downplaying," Lavery says. "If [the partners] can't be frank when the question comes up, it could be disastrous."

Ettelbrick points out alternatives to adoption, adding, "There are ways that we can take care of our vulnerabilities under the law." These include wills, power of attorney designation and conservatorships.

Lavery is guarded in his appraisal of the future of gay legal rights and the recognition of homosexual unions. “We have some ways to go; we are still too conveniently overlooked, unless somebody is waving a sign in your face, saying, ‘What about us?’”

* * * *

John and Craig are sitting in the breakfast nook off the kitchen of The Belvedere, taking a breather from last-minute renovations. By November 1, they will close up the castle and head to Florida to run another guest house called Villa Fontana. Craig ponders the longevity of their relationship, and feels it stems, in part, from a respect for fidelity during sexually liberated days. "We've always been just a monogamous couple," he explained, "and I think that's why it's worked for us this long. We made a commitment to each other, and this year we reinforced the commitment to each other."

— Jay Blotcher, OutWeek Magazine No. 18, October 22, 1989, p. 36.

#outweek #issue 18 #lgbt history #lover adoption #feature #jay blotcher #john eberhardt #craig eberhardt #cherry grove #the belvedere #homophobia #relationship recognition #marriage #photo #scott morgan #michael lavery

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peppermintquartz · 5 years

Text

a little future fic for the Finn’s Playroom ‘verse.

[general, some homophobic & racist language]

Bringing Roman home with him to Father’s seventieth birthday has been a monumental mistake. Tyler plasters a fixed smile on his face as Aunt Beatrice whispers to him in pretend concern, “Your bodyguard is very handsome, but sleeping with the hired help is never a good look on anyone.”

“He is my boyfriend who also happens to be my chief of security, Aunt Beatrice; I do have a small company to run and Roman is essential to its smooth functioning,” Tyler reminds her. Breezey is indubitably a small company compared to the family’s international empire built on cleaning products and laundry detergents, but Breezey is Tyler’s baby and it’s already become the It thing in the LA fashion scene for this season.

Aunt Beatrice rolls her eyes, because all the Botox injections have frozen her facial muscles and make it impossible for her to form expressions. “That may be so, but he’s still taking your money and escorting you around. I’ve seen the photos, Tyler. You really should be less... flamboyant about your lifestyle.”

Of course. Those damn photos of him and Roman at the beach, building sandcastles with Roman’s daughter, splashing about in the sea, having fun like two normal men in love. Tyler bets that Aunt Beatrice is talking either about the picture where Roman is licking a bit of ice cream from the corner of Tyler’s lips or the one where he was rubbing sunscreen on Roman’s back.

Goddamn paparazzi.

“I think a day out at the beach can hardly be called flamboyant,” says Tyler, “although I suppose you’ve not been to the seaside since they introduced bikinis to the populace, Aunt Beatrice.” He lifts a perfectly manicured hand and studies his nails. “I would’ve thought you were above all that silly Hollywood gossip, Aunt Beatrice. Oh, wait. Were you the one who said I was ‘heading straight to hell’? I’ve kind of forgotten.”

His aunt narrows her watery blue eyes as if slapped by a dead rat. Tyler smiles at her more widely and walks away. His navy-blue tux with brocade detail is somber, by his standards, but among these people he may as well be parading about in nothing but a feather boa. (He’s actually done that, and it’s great fun; both Finn and Roman certainly appreciated it.)

Roman is off to the side, chatting with Tyler’s cousin Kelsey (twenty-one years old and seems to have inherited her mom’s sweet nature, thank God, and wants to go into cybersecurity) and brightening when he spots Tyler coming towards him. The blond meets him halfway and hands him a flute of champagne, his gaze sweeping over Roman appreciatively. The big man looks like an A-lister in a tailored tux - simple black, but with peak lapels and peacock-green emeralds in his cufflinks because Tyler refuses to let Roman be anything less than radiant. His long, thick hair has been slicked back and tied neatly, and his brown skin glows like bronze. He stands out from the rest of the party attendees simply by existing. Every time Tyler looks at him, his breath is taken away.

How am I so lucky?

Roman finishes the champagne and sets it on a nearby surface. “You don’t seem to be having a good time.”

“I’ve had quite enough of my family making snide remarks about you and about Breezey,” Tyler murmurs, over the rim of his drink. “I think we should leave soon.”

“You sure?” Roman touches his elbow. They have deliberately minimized physical contact this evening, even though it pains Tyler not to be holding his boyfriend’s hand to draw support from him. “We have flown across the country for this party.”

Tyler nods. “I’m sorry my family are such snobs.”

“Kelsey isn’t.”

“Her mom’s middle class, so she’s a little more grounded.” Tyler trails his fingers down Roman’s sleeve.

“You don’t intend to stay for the cake?” An obnoxious voice starts in behind Tyler’s shoulder, and the young man chews on the side of his tongue before he can say something he’ll regret. He shakes his head at Roman’s inquiring look and silently indicates that the big Samoan should go back to chatting with Kelsey.

With another deep breath, Tyler turns around. He needs a drink, maybe five, to deal with this. “I’m not feeling too well, Eddie. I’d rather go back to the hotel and rest.”

Tyler’s brother Edward sniffs, his good looks marred by his perpetual expression of having stepped in ankle-deep pig muck. “Imagine staying at a hotel when you could’ve stayed in your own home. Still, I suppose it’s better than you flaunting him around Dad and Mom. You’d give them both coronaries if they’d seen those photos of you two, kissing in public.”

His big brother’s bigoted condescension shouldn’t hurt, because he’s always been an idiot, but it does. Tyler squares his shoulders. “We were kissing because Roman’s my boyfriend and we are in love.”

Edward leans in and whispers, “At least he’s not too black. I suppose it’s too much to ask that you find someone European and titled. Or is this about the size of his penis?”

“Excuse me?” Tyler’s too shocked to do more than breathe out the words, falling back on childhood habits of courtesy.

“You’re going to regret this whole affair,” Edward continues with a superior air. “He’s going to bleed you dry, mark my words. Well, you can always find another, can’t you, what with all you gay people sleeping with one another all the time. It makes me sick, the fact that he has a child... Lord knows what he’s doing to her.”

What happens next Tyler doesn’t quite remember, but the very next second he’s straddling his older brother’s chest and punching him in the face as hard as he can repeatedly. There’s blood, and there’s yelling, until someone pulls Tyler off of Edward.

It’s Roman who’s holding a struggling Tyler around the waist, keeping him away from his brother, and whispering in his ear to ‘calm down, princess, easy now, it’s okay, we’re going, we’re leaving’.

Edward’s nose is streaming with blood and he looks shocked and pale, as if he never expected his younger brother to strike back for all the things he’s said and done. “Tyler, you’re a damn disgrace to the family!” he yells, his voice thick from the injury to his nose.

“I’m the disgrace? I’m the disgrace? When you say the things that you say with no shame?” Tyler screams at Edward. He wrenches free of Roman but his boyfriend keeps a hold of his left elbow. “ Don’t you ever suggest Roman’s anything but a great dad! He’s a hundred times a better father than Father has ever been! And you, you fucking hypocrite, you think we didn’t know you screwed the maid-of-honor at your own goddamn wedding? And that your wife doesn’t know you’ve been having an affair with your secretary? I hope she wipes you out, you son of a bitch!”

“Tyler!” A booming voice echoes. Tyler turns to see his father striding across the hall, while his mother follows in his wake. “What is all this fighting about? You’re embarrassing me.”

Edward wipes at his face. “Tyler went mad and attacked me.”

“I went mad? You’re the racist, bigoted bastard who insinuated that my boyfriend is a pedophile!”

“Tyler! Enough.” Tyler’s mother exhales heavily. “Apologize to Edward and our guests.”

Tyler stares at his father, then at his mother and brother. The rest of the guests are watching, some whispering behind their hands. Kelsey’s frowning and her eyes dart from Tyler to Edward. Roman is standing beside him, and Tyler can just imagine the big guy wanting to shield him from all this unpleasantness by whisking him away.

Eventually, Tyler smiles and straightens his jacket. He faces his family with utter calm. “You know what? I am sorry. I’m sorry I have the same blood as you in my veins. Thank you for exiling me to Los Angeles when I came out as gay, because otherwise I’d have turned out like you, which is seriously the worst thing ever. I’d have become a small-minded, pathetic, bigoted, racist loser like Edward.”

His mother is horrified and embarrassed. “Tyler, don’t say that.”

The young man shrugs and links his arm through Roman’s. “It’s already said. Also, ladies and gentlemen, just to make my feelings about my family perfectly clear: Screw. You. To. Hell.” He looks at Roman, who’s concerned and proud at the same time, and then pulls him into a deep kiss. There is a smattering of outraged gasps. When he pulls away with a gigantic grin, he notices that Kelsey has her camera out and she winks at him, flashing a thumbs up. “Come on, Ro, let’s get out of here.”

“Step out of this house and I’ll cut you off from your inheritance,” Tyler’s father threatens.

Grinning, Tyler looks over his shoulder. “Go ahead. I’ve earned my own millions, Dad. I don’t need my inheritance. I have everything I need and want.” He squeezes Roman’s hand and smiles up at him as they leave.

#tyler breeze #roman reigns #tyro #finn's playroom

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pllandcompany · 6 years

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline (Part Two)

Summary: Hospital!AU. Family dinners are hard. Therapy sessions are worse. Fortunately, both eventually come to an end.

Warnings: mention of past drug use/addiction, description of past child abuse, some yelling, crying, description of anxiety, food mention, drinking/drunk character

Tagged: @ziallwarrior @thefallendog @apologieslogan @trueunreal @flyingfreeyt @thecatchat @crofters-jam @jakesmolbean @band-be-boss-blog @ab-artist @asylia-5911 @backatthebein @oonagh-una

Pairings: Romantic Logince and QPP Moxiety

Notes: Part Two is here! I tried something a little different with the writing style, it’s a little more dialogue heavy than I usually do and the scenes with Logan and Roman are not taking place at the same time as Patton and Virgil. I basically kind of mashed up two standalone fics in one; hopefully it isn’t too confusing. Also, I’m sorry if I suck at writing Picani. Cartoons are not my forte (thank you, deprived childhood). As always, feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

The waiting room was quiet, almost eerily so. A clock tick, tick, ticked steadily behind the heads of the two gentlemen seated in the desolate vestibule. A deep sigh echoed against the walls followed by the impatient drumming of fingertips on a plastic chair. Gentle hands clasped the anxious fingers, drawing a surprised glance from the drummer. The hands drew back to their original place and silence reigned supreme in the space once again. Tentative peace was broken once again by the drawn-out gurgling of a nervous stomach accompanied by flushed cheeks and a chuckle from both men. The unexpected moment briefly released a modicum of tension from the atmosphere and the first words were spoken.

“Sorry. Didn’t eat much before I came here. Nerves.”

“I can tell. Maybe we can go have lunch afterwards?”

A pause. “We’ll see about that.”

“Roman Courtland? Logan Taylor?” A bright voice pierced the air, earning the surgeons’ attention. “Well, what are you two peering at me with your Brown-Eyed Peas for? Come on in; let’s get it started in here!” The therapist sung the last few words of his sentence, posing valiantly as if it was the most brilliant joke known to man. The pervasive silence definitely indicated otherwise.

“I apologize, Dr. Picani, I don’t know that one.”

Dr. Picani hunched his shoulders but maintained his giddy smile. “Not a problem, Logan. It wasn’t my best work anyway. Seriously though, let’s get started.” He began frantically ushering the pair into his office. Roman lagged slightly, already unimpressed.

“Wonderful. It’s like Patton on speed.”

****

“Honey, you gotta slow down. You’re gonna burn yourself or break something!”

Patton closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was only about the millionth time Dot had panicked over his speed in the kitchen.

“Mom, I’m fine. I always work this fast and stay safe. You taught me how to, remember?” He gave her a gentle but pointed look. “You’re hovering. Don’t worry so much. I’ve got this.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I just can’t help it! It’s what moms do, you know.”

“I know, Mom, it’s…it’s fine. Maybe you and Dad can help set the table? That is if he’s not still traumatized from surgery this afternoon.” Patton chuckled to himself at the thundering footsteps rushing down the hallway. Larry skidded to a halt in the kitchen doorway, pointing at Patton vigorously.

“No! You do not get to mock me! You took a needle the length of my arm and stuck it in a pregnant woman’s stomach! And you made me watch it!”

“Yes, honey, but he did it to fix her baby’s heart defect. He saved a life before it was even born.” Dot was practically beaming. Larry shuddered, still trying to erase the image from his brain.

“I get that, son, and we’re so proud but…I don’t know how you ever got used to that. You’re braver than me, that’s for sure.” Patton had to let himself grin on that one.

“It’s just my job, Dad, but…thanks. Can you and Mom set the table? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Dot checked her watch, suddenly furrowing her brow. “Sweetie, didn’t you tell Virgil to be here at 6:00? It’s almost 6:30.”

Patton looked up sharply. “Really? Wow, I didn’t realize it was that…late…”

“You are sure he wanted to do this, right, son?”

“Larry, don’t do that! Something could have come up; he is a surgeon too. Maybe there’s an emergency.”

“But wouldn’t they have also paged Patton? Wouldn’t he have let him know he had to go to the hospital? I’m just saying- “

“Mom, Dad, calm down. Virgil probably got held up with something at work. He is chief of trauma now; that comes with a lot of responsibility that he has to fulfill before he can leave.” He turned back to the pot in front of him, stirring the sauce absently. “He’ll show. Don’t worry; he’ll show up.”

****

It took Roman a second to process what he was seeing. Posters of cartoons and Disney movies littered the walls and there were plush animals and toys piled in a corner. He couldn’t even readily identify the plaque that held this man’s doctorate under the multiple stickers that covered the frame.

“Are you a children’s therapist?” God, I hope so, Roman thought.

“No! Everyone always says that, I haven’t the foggiest idea why…” Roman shot a dark look to Logan who widened his eyes and nodded to the red leather couch for him to sit. Roman pursed his lips and sat down on the opposite end from Logan.

He was not convinced about this at all.

“Okeydokey, welcome to couples’ therapy! I am Dr. Picani and while I’m no stranger to Logan over here, I don’t know you as well, Mr. Roman Empire so why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Roman raised an eyebrow at the rapid-fire introduction. This guy literally chirps when he talks. He let out a deep sigh and folded his arms across his chest, barely concealing his irritation.

“Okay…well, my name is Dr. Roman Courtland and I’m a neurosurgeon.”

“Oh, fascinating! So, you study the brain too! Well then, this should be a piece of cake for you!” Roman simply huffed in response, earning a look from Logan. Dr. Picani would not be deterred though. “Okay, well, obviously you two are here to work out some issues in your relationship, right? So, what’s going on in the world of Rolo?”

“Rolo?” Roman spat out incredulously.

“Yes, it’s your ship name! Just a little something I like to do with my couples.”

“Well, I don’t like chocolate.”

“Roman! That’s enough!” Logan’s shout startled both the counselor and the neurosurgeon. “Why are you being so rude? I admitted to you previously that his methods were unconventional. I also told you that they have helped me tremendously. Can you please just give it a chance?” Roman leaned back against the arm rest on his side of the couch, folding his arms yet again.

“Fine…what’s up, Doc?”

Dr. Picani smirked at the defensive doctor. “Very clever! You’re a quick one! Okay, back to the world of Rolo.”

Silence pervaded the space. “I-I’ll start.”

“All right, Logan, way to be the Brave Little Toaster and heat up this discussion! What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I believe that I am…no…I feel…afraid.”

“Good job. It’s okay to admit your feelings.”

“Afraid of what?” Roman’s voice was harsh and unyielding, the coldness rattling Logan slightly.

“I…well, I’m afraid that you want to leave me. I fear that my deception has pushed you away.”

Roman scoffed. “I think I’ve proven that I won’t do that.”

“Maybe not but you still resent me. I can tell; I’m not-”

“Stupid? No, definitely not. It takes incredible mental skill to manipulate those closest to you into believing nothing’s wrong without them ever catching on.”

Logan recoiled. “You’re angry.” Roman turned away and looked at the wall. “And rightfully so. You of all people didn’t deserve to be lied to. I am deeply sorry for that.”

Roman didn’t answer.

****

“Sweetie? Honey, the food’s getting cold, maybe we should eat- “

“Just heat it up then, Mom!” Patton was visibly tense.

“Hey! Don’t talk to your mother like that! She’s trying to help you!”

“I know, I know but I don’t need help because he’s coming! He just got held up at the hospital. He’s on his way.”

Dot hesitated, fearing the consequences of her next words. “But sweetheart…we haven’t heard from him- “

“He’s coming, Mom!” Patton looked down the hallway, listening for the door. “He’s coming.”

****

“Logan, why don’t you go ahead and tell Roman what we talked about sharing with him last session?”

Logan looked up, his face impassive except for the mild fear glazing over his eyes. “Now? Oh, ah…all right.” He took a beat to calm his nerves. “Roman. Firstly, I want you to know that I lo- “

“Can I ask a question?” Roman was looking straight at Dr. Picani who looked back at him, slightly surprised. “Well, I believe Logan had something he wanted say- “

“No, it’s fine. You may ask your question, Roman.” The neurosurgeon shifted forward, finally facing Logan with a steely gaze.

“I want to know…what made you start using? The first time, not this time.”

Logan’s face remained blank, the pounding of his heart secretly betraying him. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Really? You don’t see how it’s relevant?” Sarcasm dripped from each word.

“Let’s stay calm here, Roman. This is a safe space.” Logan held up a hand to cut off Picani.

“No, Roman, I do not see how the genesis of my addiction is relevant to our current circumstances. Please elaborate.” Logan could be sarcastic too.

“You’re telling me that you don’t see how the origin of the sole issue that is ripping the very fabric of our relationship apart is relevant to our current conversation? You really can’t see that?” Roman’s voice was starting to rise.

“That is not fair!” Logan began to shout back. “Our issues are not all on me! It takes two people to make or break something!”

“Exactly! And while I have given you everything, you have given me nothing!”

“I couldn’t, Roman! I was sick and overwhelmed; I couldn’t give anyone anything!”

“No, of course not, because addiction isn’t your fault! Because you have a disease! Because you were traumatized!”

“Don’t you dare mock me. You can resent me all you want but I won’t tolerate being mocked.”

“I’m not mocking you! I am just stating facts. Because of the nature of your condition, you can’t ever be blamed for anything! This leaves me to shoulder the burden of our entire relationship!”

Logan froze, his eyes filling with tears. “You think of me…as a burden?”

Roman panted, his eyes blown wide. “No…no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, then what did you mean?!” He was outwardly panicking now. Dr. Picani had to step in.

“Logan? I think Roman is trying to say that he feels alone in this relationship. Am I close, Doctor?” Picani bore a slight smirk on his face at Roman’s stunned expression.

“Um, yeah, yes. I do…feel alone.” He turned back to Logan. “And I don’t want to be. But…I don’t know you, Logan. Not truly. And it makes it not trust you. I have to know you to trust you, so I need you to give me something. Tell me something honest. Tell me how this all started so I can better understand how to help you fight it. Because I want to, Logan. I want you. All of you, even the broken parts.”

Logan stared down at the ground hard, fighting the urge to break down. The room held their breath as they waited for him to come back to them. After an agonizing eternity, Logan finally looked up, a stony expression draped over his face like an iron curtain.

“Okay. I’ll tell you.”

****

“I’m gonna go ahead and start cleaning up, dear.” Patton didn’t move a muscle, barely noticing his mother shift next to him and start gathering plates. He was drowning in disappointment. How could Virgil do this? They had come so far, how could desert him now? Larry reached out and grabbed his son’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m so sorry, son. I know how much this meant to you- “

The sound of a frantic doorbell pierced the air. Patton shot up from his chair like a rocket, practically sprinting to the door. He wrenched it open to discover a disheveled Virgil, dressed in an all-black suit and holding a wilted bouquet of roses.

“Virgil! What happened to you?! You’re two hours late!”

“PATTY!” Virgil bellowed, opening his arms wide and swaying slightly.

“And you’re drunk…” Patton couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Only a little but ‘ts fine, Patty…” He was slurring badly.

“You never drink.”

“First time for -hic- everything!”

“Virgil, what the hell is this? Why would you sabotage this evening?!”

“Psssh, I dunno, it’s crazy, right? Maybe I’m crazy, Pat!” He wildly gestured to his head, bugging his eyes out almost comically. Patton continued to rant, ignoring the erratic behavior.

“Virgil Davidson, this is not a joke! You were supposed to be there for me tonight! Do you know how scared my parents were for me when I came out? How much they worried that no one would understand and what that would do me? And now I’ve finally found someone who does understand but when I need them, they don’t show up! You know how important this was to me! You know how much it means to my family that they know the person that loves me!”

“Yes, I know, I know, it’s important to you, it’s important to them, my job is important, it’s all so freakin’ important and it’s too much! I can’t handle it! I am not good enough to do any of this!” His voice suddenly cleared up as he started to shout. Patton watched sorrowfully as his partner broke down in front of him. “I’m not good enough for you or your family, Pat. My dad was a drunk. My mom was a junkie. Hell, maybe I’m a drunk too. It’s in my blood! It’s who I am! I am made…from bad blood. So…you’re better off, your family is better off…”

Patton swallowed thickly, gathering up the courage to battle Virgil’s negative thoughts. “You think I’m better off.”

“Yeah!” Virgil flailed his arms dangerously.

“Without you.”

“Yeah, Pat, that’s what I said!”

“I’m sorry but…that! Is a damn lie!”

A sudden gasp sucked up all the air between them. “You-you never curse, Patty…” Virgil stumbled again as Patton took the hand free of roses in both of his.

“Virgil…you are good enough. You are so good. To me, to your patients. Your past will always be your past, sure, but it doesn’t define everything about you. In fact, it’s part of what’s made you so good and kind and loving: because you’ve suffered unimaginable pain and you want to protect others from ever feeling that way. I just wanted you to share that kindness with my family, that’s all.”

Virgil stared into middle space, eyes shining. “I’m good?”

Patton chuckled lightly. “Yeah, Virge. Of course you are. You know that.”

“Yeah…yeah, you’re right. I am good…I’m good. I’m good!” Virgil suddenly took off past Patton, through the open door…and right into the kitchen where Patton’s parents were still cleaning. Patton was hot on his heels but not fast enough to stop him.

“Hey! You guys! Patton’s family!” Larry and Dot whirled around at the same time, both wearing expressions of equal parts anger and confusion.

“Oh, geez,” Patton mumbled.

“Oh, now you show up. You listen to me,” his father growled, launching forward. Dot just barely held him back in time.

“Larry, no! You just calm down!” Dot turned to Virgil, brow furrowed in disappointment. “What are you doing here? Why bother coming now?”

“Look, I know you’re probably thinking all sorts of terrible shit about me right now! I showed up wicked late. I’m drunk. And I’m wearing all black so you probably think I’m some child of darkness and the truth is…I am. I don’t get family, like, at all. My family was super messed up, my childhood was insanity. I don’t know what it’s like to have parents like you. But I do know what it’s like to be loved. And even though sometimes I’m really shitty at showing it, I also know what it is to love someone and that is because…of your son. I love your son. A lot. A whole heck of a lot and because I love him…I wanna get to know you. Maybe then I’ll finally get what family is, you know? If…if you don’t hate me, that is.”

Nobody dared to move and break the palpable tension in the room. Every muscle in Patton’s legs twitched but he forced himself to stay still. Virgil had to face this on his own. The two parents exchanged a brief look, one that implied a seemingly secret communication. As if taking a cue from a director, Larry began to slowly walk forward towards the shuddering trauma surgeon.

“Oh God, are you gonna punch me out?” Virgil was terrified.

“What? No! I was gonna offer you a seat and some water. You look like you need to sit down, son.”

Virgil eyes shone for the second time that night. “Son?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Have you eaten, dear? We still have some pasta left. You should have some food and water and then you should get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning. Ooh, we should go for a pancake breakfast! That would be nice!”

“Or we could just make pancakes here, Dottie dearest!”

“Oh, don’t be so cheap, Larry, this is a special occasion! We’re expanding our family!”

Patton walked over from the hallway and collapsed at the table across from Virgil, both doctors too stunned to mind the gentle bickering of Larry and Dot over breakfast plans.

“I cannot believe that worked,” Virgil mumbled. Patton gently laid his hand over the shocked surgeon’s, a loving smile lighting up his face.

“I can.”

****

“It was the third year of my residency. I was the resident on call that night and after already having been at the hospital for a coronary revascularization that took hours, I was paged. I hadn’t even left yet but a massive apartment fire broke out and they needed hands. People came flooding in, the unit was packed; it was typical trauma madness. I was working on a 40-year-old man. He had what looked like minor injuries, a couple broken ribs, a head laceration, minor burns. I checked his airway, did an examination, stitched his head wound and moved on to the next patient. Three hours later, my attending was telling me that he was dead. He had a brain bleed and by the time we finally caught it, it was too late.” Logan stopped himself briefly, clearing his throat and letting out a choked sob.

Roman didn’t dare interrupt.

“My attending told me that he was a single father and the injuries he sustained were from pulling his two daughters out of the fire. He then said…that this man absolutely would have had a chance if I had bothered to order a head CT when I first saw him but because I was careless and failed to follow protocol, he was dead. He asked why I didn’t order the scan and I had to tell him the truth. I simply…forgot. It was shameful, I know but I was exhausted and rushed and I just…forgot. God, he was furious.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” The neurosurgeon’s voice was soft and tentative.

“I didn’t want you to think I was weak. I didn’t want you to see…how failure follows me everywhere I go.”

“That’s not true.” Logan went on as if he didn’t even hear him speak.

“My attending then forced me to deliver the news to his two young children. He called it a learning experience. He said it would make me stronger, more careful.” Logan chuckled bitterly. “I guess he was wrong. After I informed the family, I left the hospital with my prescription pad and drove straight to a 24-hour pharmacy. It’s funny. I picked up the drugs because I wanted to erase that night from my memory but…I’ve never forgotten it. And it happens every time. I fall into the trap of thinking the drugs will mask the pain but it’s still there.”

“Logan…you were a resident. You were young and inexperienced, you’re bound to make mistakes. God knows I did.”

“But I am not supposed to!” Dr. Picani leaned in.

“Why, Logan? Why can’t you make mistakes?”

“Because the mistakes we make cost people their lives.”

“What else?” Roman prodded.

“What?”

“No, we all have that responsibility as doctors. And we all fall short at times, but it doesn’t break us like it broke you. So what else is there?”

Logan struggled to find his words. “My…mother was not…understanding when it came to failure. She had…high standards.”

“About?” “Everything. From my performance in school to how I should dress to how I should behave, about everything. And if I did not meet those standards, she was…unkind.”

Roman closed his eyes. “Did she hit you?”

“Never. But she did…other things. Denied me food. Locked me in closets and screamed at me to study. So many nights I fell asleep in the linen closet on a textbook with a dead flashlight in my hand. One time, I failed a test and the teacher called her about it. Before I got home…she had the locks changed. I slept at a friend’s home for the rest of that week until she finally gave me a new set of keys.” Logan rattled off his list of horrors in a detached manner, as if he was reciting a grocery list instead of recounting the most painful memories of his life. Roman didn’t dare to move or speak. He simply held Logan’s hand until he suddenly made eye contact with him, terror and pain clouding his eyes.

“Don’t you see now, Roman? How it was so easy for me to believe David Bacall’s words? I’ve heard them my whole life.” Roman had to clear his throat before he could talk again.

“Well, then…everything you’ve heard your entire life is wrong.” Without warning, the cardiac surgeon crumpled into Roman’s chest, clinging to him for dear life as he cried. “You are not a failure. No matter what mistakes you’ve made, you are still a good person. You are worthy of love. Give yourself room to be human, darling. I’m here, I can help you through it. It’s okay, Logan. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

****

“Virge. Virge, wake up.”

“Mmm, noooo. It hurts to wake up.”

“Hmm, I bet, that’s what happens when you drink yourself silly. How much did you have anyway?”

“You know that bottle of rum we split when we dressed up as pirates for Halloween?”

“Yeah…oh, Virgil, no.”

“Yep, it’s gone. Along with my dignity.”

“Nonsense. My father actually appreciated your blunt honesty. And my mother found you quite charming. They are concerned though that you’re doing…okay.”

Virgil thought for a moment. “Maybe I’m not as great as I thought I was. But I still have you so I’m pretty good.”

Patton smiled, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair. “Still, I think we should check in with Nate. Just to make sure we’re on a healthy track.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“And no more drinking alone.”

“No more drinking period, this is awful.”

“Aww. You know the best cure for a hangover? Pancakes and friendly conversation! Come on, Sailor Jerry, let’s get up.”

“Ugh, no alcohol references, please.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!...Morgan…”

“You hate me.”

“I love you.”

****

“Roman? Whatcha thinkin’ there, slugger?” Dr. Picani’s brow was knitted tight with concern.

“I just…don’t know how we move forward together now, Logan.”

“Wh-what?”

“I still want to, of course! It’s just…if failure is a trigger for you then how can I ever feel safe expressing how I feel when I’ve been hurt? Or when I’ve hurt you? Because it’s going to happen. We’re human, we’re going to fail each other. But I can’t have you going and hurting yourself because things fell apart. I won’t be in a relationship like that, I love you too much to put you through that.”

“Well, now, hold on here, Roman,” Dr. Picani chimed in, “keep in mind that Logan’s recovery is ultimately Logan’s responsibility. You can support him, sure thing, but managing his feelings and his reactions to those feelings? That’s on him. You know that, right, Logan?”

“Absolutely. That’s what being here has done for me. I have plenty of coping skills at my disposal to navigate difficult emotions. Other than using drugs, of course.”

“That being said, Roman brings up a good point: how does Rolo move forward? I think the best way to ensure that your relation-ship stays afloat is with open and honest communication! Logan, you need to make sure that you’re talking to Roman honestly about your feelings which means first talking honestly to yourself about them. Own your emotions and don’t be scared to let them out! Look at all the things you opened up about today. Is Roman rejecting you? No. He’s right here, willing to stay with you through this.” Logan looked at his partner, realization dawning.

“And Roman, you need to create a safe space for Logan to heal by letting him go at his own pace. You can’t push him to be vulnerable. Healing can’t be forced, otherwise it’s not real healing. Don’t underestimate his strength. It takes a lot to push him towards wanting to use. And one other thing…you need to forgive him. He knows he hasn’t been fair to you but he’s willing to make the commitment to showing you that things will be different now. Forgive him and trust that he’ll come to you.”

“That’s actually what I was going to say earlier. I thought that admitting that I recognize how I’ve hurt you and apologizing would be what you needed to hear. I didn’t anticipate you needing to know why it happened.”

“You don’t need to apologize anymore, Logan. You’ve felt guilty for enough, far more than you ever should have. And my anger earlier was misplaced. I’m not angry with you, I’m angry at the situation. I’m angry that someone would ever think to willfully hurt someone as wonderful as you. And I was hurt that you didn’t tell me why you were hurting so much, especially after what we went through together. I haven’t always been fair to you either and I’ve tried so hard to make up for it. Being shut out…it made me think that you didn’t trust me, and that thought was…so painful. So, I lashed out. And I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that. You’re trying.”

Logan gently took Roman’s hands into his own. “As are you.”

Dr. Picani smiled fondly at the new development between the two surgeons. “Hey guys…you’re sitting next to each other now.” Both men looked down simultaneously to their now touching thighs, exchanging hesitant but sweet smiles at each other when they looked up. “You know, I’m gonna go ahead and prescribe one more thing for you two.”

“What would that would be, Dr. Picani?”

“Simple: Go on a date. Once Logan comes home and you two feel ready, go out! Have fun with each other! Laugh, talk about anything other than therapy or work. Remember what it was like to fall in love with each other. You two have been through so much and you’ve come out on the other side together. Go celebrate that! Celebrate your lives.”

“That sounds…most reasonable. We…we can do that.” Roman nodded in agreement.

“Splendid! Welp, that’s all folks! Gotta run to the next session! And I mean literally run, it’s all the way on the other side of campus.”

“Porky Pig!” Roman blurted out.

“Nice catch of the reference, Dr. Roman Empire. Very clever. Now, Logan, I’ll see you in a few days and you two cool cats back here next week! Okay, shoo, I wasn’t kidding about needing to run.”

“Oh, well, we’ll be going then.” Logan rushed out of the door, leaving Roman to pause and turn to the cheerful therapist. “Doctor?”

“Yes, Roman?”

“I, uh, I’m…thank you.” Dr. Picani simply nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Roman nodded back before joining his partner in the hallway.

“Well then! Now that we’re done with that, shall we grab that lunch we discussed earlier?”

Logan grinned earnestly. “Sure. I think I know a place.”

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