#sparrow capital

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

The cousin and cash handler for one of Russia’s most notorious oligarchs poured tens of thousands of dollars into electing a newly minted congressman-elect who called Ukraine’s government “a totalitarian regime.”

Republican George Devolder-Santos vanquished Democrat Robert Zimmerman this month in the race for a House seat covering parts of Long Island and the New York City borough of Queens—riding a red wave that swept the Empire State this cycle, and washing away two decades of Democratic dominance in the district.

Devolder-Santos had long courted conservative media attention by presenting himself as a “walking, living, breathing contradiction”—a gay Latino millennial born in New York City, who is also a fervent devotee of ex-President Donald Trump.

For much of his professional career, which included a stint as regional director at an alleged Ponzi scheme, the Republican used the name George Devolder. However, as he ventured further into the world of politics, he began to increasingly use the name George Devolder-Santos or simply George Santos.

He stood out to the Washington Post earlier this year for his remarks in the aftermath of Russia’s bloody, unprovoked assault on Ukraine.

“It’s not like Ukraine is a great democracy. It’s a totalitarian regime. They’re not a great bastion of freedom,” the congressman-to-be told the paper.

He has insisted that Ukraine “welcomed the Russians into their provinces”—an apparent reference to President Vladimir Putin’s 2014 invasion to prop up rogue separatist parties—and that Ukrainians in the east “feel more Russian than Ukrainian,” even though every single Ukrainian province overwhelmingly voted for independence in 1991.

It was not the first time Devolder-Santos had parroted Kremlin talking points. In the weeks before Putin’s brutal, blundering attack upon his western neighbor, the candidate repeatedly took to Twitter to accuse President Joe Biden of plotting to “start a war” with Russia and deploy American troops to Ukraine.

But unreported until now is that by the time Devolder-Santos made these statements, his congressional ambitions had already received a $32,800 boost from a controversial figure linked to the uppermost echelons of the Russian regime—and that support would more than double in size during the months ahead.

The cash came from Andrew Intrater and his wife, who variously listed her occupation as “homemaker” and “analyst” for Falcon AI, one of her husband’s subsidiary firms.

Intrater’s main venture is today called Sparrow Capital, but it previously used the name Columbus Nova—and its primary function has long been to manage the investments of Intrater’s cousin, Viktor Vekselberg, one of Putin’s wealthiest and most influential courtiers.

So tightly intertwined is Intrater’s business with that of his relative, who snatched up swaths of Russia’s aluminum and fuel industries during the post-Soviet period, that Columbus Nova described itself in 2007 Securities and Exchange Commission filings as “the U.S.-based affiliate” of Vekselberg’s Renova Group. In fact, SEC records show that “Columbus Nova” was merely a trade name, and the company was in fact incorporated as Renova U.S. Management LLC until it rechristened itself Sparrow Capital in 2018.

The rebrand came just months after the Department of the Treasury froze almost all of the company’s assets for its tight ties to the heavily sanctioned Vekselberg. The following year, Intrater became a national figure when it surfaced that his firm had paid half a million dollars to longtime Trump fixer Michael Cohen, and the pair had exchanged hundreds of phone calls and text messages during the 2016 campaign.

Intrater sued the federal government in hopes of regaining access to his fortune, but a judge slapped the effort down in 2020. However, the businessman persisted and ultimately reached what court records refer to as an “administrative agreement” regarding at least part of the corporate accounts in late 2021. However, the case file does not include this document, and Intrater’s team did not respond to repeated requests for comment.

Intrater’s support for Devolder-Santos dates to the GOP pol’s first failed bid for Congress in 2020, which got a $11,600 cash infusion from the financier and his bride, reflecting the maximum contribution amount then allowed.

But after that initial defeat federal donation limits would prove a small obstacle. Starting in March 2021, Intrater and his wife began pouring tens of thousands of dollars into auxiliary committees backing Devolder-Santos: $20,000 directly to GADS PAC, a leadership political action committee bearing the candidate’s initials, plus $12,100 to Devolder Santos Nassau Victory, a joint fundraising committee formed with the Nassau County Republican Party. Devolder Santos Nassau Victory had to drop $10,000 of that gift into the Nassau GOP’s federal account—but that account made just two federal expenditures this cycle, the larger of them by far being the purchase of lawn signs supporting Devolder-Santos.

All this came on top of $12,400 Intrater and Pentinen gave the Devolder-Santos for Congress committee.

The individual who answered a phone associated with Devolder-Santos identified himself to The Daily Beast as his campaign coordinator, but declined to share his name. He would not speak directly about the Intrater gifts, but insisted that the national Republican Party had set the candidate up with most of his large contributors.

But Devolder-Santos was far and away the largest beneficiary of Intrater’s largesse this year. Further, Devolder-Santos’s committees are the only ones that received gifts from Intrater’s wife this cycle.

The campaign coordinator directed The Daily Beast to forward all questions to a press email, but messages sent to the address provided received no reply.

Shortly after the Russian onslaught against Ukraine began, and public opinion swung toward Kyiv, Devolder-Santos appeared to soften his stance on the country. In a Fox News interview, he highlighted that his grandfather was born in the Ukrainian capital, and on Twitter he has urged prayers for the country.

However, he seems to have avoided the topic since late February, and it is unclear at this point whether he will join the anti-Ukraine faction within the narrow GOP majority in seeking to sever aid to the embattled nation.

#us politics #news #the daily beast #new york #George Devolder-Santos #George Devolder #2022 #118th congress #us house of representatives #rep. george santos #Robert Zimmermar #the washington post #ukriane #ukrainian crisis #russia #russo ukrainian war #russian oligarchs #Andrew Intrater #falcon ai #sparrow capital #Columbus Nova #Viktor Vekselberg #Securities and Exchange Commission #Renova Group #Renova U.S. Management LLC #Department of the Treasury #michael cohen #campaign funding #GADS PAC #Devolder Santos Nassau Victory

[youcantdateosmosisjones]

dude, we're getting the band back together

(confession: i did not play bg3 before getting into the fandom. crucifying me would be understandable. changed this up after finishing 3 times, tho... also replayed fable 2, so this is at least a little more accurate

#bg3 #fable 2 #fable sparrow #fable reaver #astarion #bg3 withers #karlach #the emperor #durge #bg3 durge #the dark urge #baldur's gate 3 #fable theresa #hammer #garth #low quality garth my beloved #it was between astarion and gortash #but this is reaver before capitalism

[spotsupstuff]

I wanna learn more about Blessing / Boreas. What’s up with all the bat flies with him? What’s his city like?

-rubs my hands together like a fly- uuuuuu boy, time to shake my blatantly favorite child Hell yeah huhuhuhuhuuu

the batflies enter the scene a good while after the Mass Ascension- they are his coping mechanism after Zephyr collapses and goes dark!

from the comic where they talk about Euros' n Sparrows' relationship, one can probably guess how close these two are. Boreas might be the big scary dog of the whole Eo family that punches things in the face rather than take any miniscule amount of shit, but when it comes to Zephyr he is very open and sweet. she's the only person who can actually influence his opinions and ideas greatly, because he loves and trusts her enough to allow her to do so. so when she collapses, he takes it the worst out of everyone. in a very quiet way. his pain if for him to keep, nobody else can know he's hurting

bear witness to Ňuňu

this lil shit was basically Boreas' therapy dog. just.. very very feckin teeny

child...

she is as smart as your typical bat, but the thing was that when she accidentally made her way into his chamber, he didn't have much will in himself to send the animal to eeby deeby so she got to flutter about. and as animals do, girlie used the empathy trap card to figure out this person who doesn't seem to be posing any danger is Sad. so she landed on his head, crawled up to look into his eyes and chirped

n that was the straw that broke the camel's back and Boreas had his first grief-inflicted breakdown ever. Ňuňu stayed during it and even after it, so emotionally-empty-feeling Boreas decided to take her in. hardly can replace Zephyr, but at least he isn't alone

Ňuňu later brought friends and Bee decided that he will look after them then. even after Ňuňu passes away, he still houses and raises them. the younglings like sleeping on his antennas so he has to watch himself to not move them too much sometimes. Euros has a folder full of photos like that

to his city- the name kush is:

originally from me looking for latin words for Rage. ended up going with Desaevio, because Bee is indeed positioned in a fitting place for the word

and the storm connection plus the last two are the main reasons why the Ancients called the city as such. after project Abet Zephyr ended in such a failure, they had to vent some stuff out. and we are going to claim that it is anger because that isn't as pitiful as shame or embarrassment

(the fact that almost every translator i put it into gives me "i'm sorry" works wonderfully, too. because what else will ultimately Boreas do, but quietly mutter to himself a mantra of apologies when he'll be lying in his chamber 30 seconds from his death, drowning in his regrets and mistakes?)

Desaevio was capable of comfortably supporting over 5 million people (no other Iterator city ever reaches that far- the max is ambitious Gen 3 cities that only ever reached around an estimate of 2.7 million) but at times housed over 6-7 million. despite lying close to the geographical location of Bergen in real life, Desaevio is very far from reaching such nice vibes (the old towns Boreas' structure overshadows come close, though). it is way closer to New York, but more dystopian. if u look up dystopian city on google images u get to see pretty closely what it looked like. combine it with Coruscant from star wars for bonus authencity with the layering

made up of skyscrapers, with endless layered bridges for means of transport (most commonly expres trains), with what little decoration of the buildings chipped away by time without anybody caring enough to restore the beauty- the grey, gloomy expanse of Desaevio is as majestic to witness as it is absolutely harrowing

with it being a layered city and one with Boreas' consciousness/structure, some wonder when does one truly leaves the borders of the city and enters the giant's actual insides. it's hard to tell, with old models of Iterators not being all that enclosed and isolated like Five Pebbles is. there is no karma gate to tell you when exactly the walls turn from homes for people to homes for wires, tubes and alien-like organic life of a colossal Hivemind

despite the whole "Iterators are above the cloud level" thing, i like to imagine that it rains in Desaevio either way. at least- some levels are just straight up Wet like after rain. but it'd be those normal rains like we have, not the annihilating ones that the old towns need to bear with down below. or maybe it's just the upper layers' waste water seeping through the ceilings

most of light of the lower levels comes from streetlights, neon signs and Boreas' own systems once deep enough

cameras and such security systems litter all the streets and every public room- and the private homes are still accessable by overseers- and All of that feeds directly into Boreas' memory cache

this omnipresence is why Boreas later suffers with the fuckin

nobody is as unhappy with Boreas' omnipresence as Boreas himself. no wonder he's always ticked off, imagine being a witness to All of New York's road rage 24/7

#Spot says stuff #rw #oc tag #oc: boreas' blessing #desaevio is very. Factory-core. idk how else to explain it it all feels vaguely like a giant factory #for someone like sparrows its Hell. its almost like the place forgot that religion is supposed to come with certain Cleanness #the motherFUCKERS made a LOWER CLASS FOR THE HIGHER CLASS WHAT KINDA FECKIN DEPTH DOES THE DISCRIMINATION GO TO!!!! #you have city like Ales that is all white and gold and dedicated to birds and the divinity- sunlight is Always present everywhere #and then theres Desaevio. our beautiful capital city that we love built on top of our biggest pride and joy Boreas' Blessing that we Also- #-super loving towards -casually administers paralyzation venom of lower circles into his puppet when he misbehaves at a wrong time- #gotta LOVE it there #the lower levels or whatever throw a rebellion against the omnipresence thing n hes like “-side eyes- yes actually listen to those there”

[degenderates]

i really have been struggling with my faith for a long time, and i think the sparrow really cemented, in a devastating way, the reality of how i feel about god, what i believe about god, and a very jewish understanding of god--that he is there, with you, and though he can’t (or perhaps won’t?) change anything, that you’re never truly alone, and in your darkest moments god surrounds you. god is there and watches as the sparrow falls, but the sparrow still falls. in a strange way, this book brought faith back into my life. i feel now that i can believe in something again, that my catholic upbringing can transform into something meaningful again, that i can actually claim my jewish heritage instead of feeling like a fake. i don’t know. i didn’t expect this, coming out of such a dark story. but i finally have words for this and i feel deeply humbled by the awe that mary doria russell has inspired in me.

#the sparrow #josiah speaks #no capitalization im not that kind of girlie and im just lazy too

[leafatlaw]

My favorite thing about riptide so far is how interesting chip and gillions relationship is. Even from a non romantic perspective they’re like almost complete opposites of each other? Chip is very selfish and greedy repeatedly saying they should only look out for themselves. And then Gillion is like so good, he wants or needs to help anyone, very often at the expense of him and his friends. And even more than that, Chips a liar and well expiernced with the world. Gillion cannot lie and hates liars.

 But even more interesting than that is that Gillion is okay with killing people, as long as their evil, but Chip doesn’t support that??? He’s pretty much against murder in all regards?  But but it’s also interesting that these characteristics don’t stay static. After e15 duel, Chip stops lying to Gillion, and Gillion in turn allows Chip to lie to other people without stepping in. Gillion let’s chip get away with being a little selfish, and Chip more eagerly helps others .  Fnc man.

#fishnchips #jrwi riptide #jrwi liveblog #they’re so #indont know they’re great though they should make out again #uh first #character analysis #for this fandom #sparrow speaks #getting fucking flash backs to the pd capital punishment arguments #uh hole in your heart slaps

[erstwhilesparrow]

*waves enthusiastically* HI!! :D May I have 2, 4, 10, 13 for the fannish asks?

[waves back with equal enthusiasm] HI!

2. What’s a classic work of literature that you’d consider yourself a fan of?

Hm.... Does The Haunting of Hill House count as a classic work of literature? I suspect no. The Bell Jar?? The Left Hand of Darkness?? Strange Pilgrims by Gabriel Garcia Marquez?? I've read Pride and Prejudice, which I suspect is the closest to what is meant by 'classic' here, and I admire Austen's writing but it's not really the first thing I think of when asked what I'm a fan of. Sorry, this answer's kind of boring, turns out I'm not much of a classics person!

4. Do you have a crack ship? Explain them to me.

I... don't think so? I have trouble framing character relationships as shipping even to myself? Just in general? Like. It just doesn't occur to me that I might want to do that. And I don't think it's as if I don't ship people, more that someone says the word shipping to me and my mind goes totally blank. So. You can imagine how it's even worse when I try to think of a crack ship I might have. Wow, two in a row for Answers That Aren't That Fun -- let's see if we can make it three >:]

10. Recc me a new piece of media you think I’d enjoy!

Ooh... Nimona! By ND Stevenson. I just glanced to the side at my bookshelf and saw this and went, "Ah, yes, found family, magic powers, sweet and silly and sad. Perfect." It's a graphic novel about a shape-shifting girl (Nimona) who wriggles her way into the life of a villain by the name of Ballister Blackheart. The two of them team up to cause some trouble with a group called the Institute, Ballister might have a bit of A Thing going on with the hero of the Institute, and Nimona makes me real fucking sad every time I read it.

Aw, dang, this answer was fun, I broke my streak!

13. Praise an obscure favourite character.

Oh boy oh god oh okay!! I'm giving you this answer with the full knowledge that it'll change again within a month or two, probably. Pixlriffs! From the Minecraft series Empires SMP (Season 2)! I mean, I assume I'll like him in season 1 as well, but I haven't watched that yet. He's just... so enchanting to me as a character concept. And specifically as a Minecraft character concept?

Right, okay, so. He's an archaeologist. He pulls entire cities out of the past. He lives alone in a warren of ancient catacombs. He can see, as holograms, the places that overgrown ruins used to be. In a series that is so much about not being able to escape the past, he's, like, a walking thematic capstone, and that's just so. I am a moth to a flame about that. But also. He's so fucking funny as a character and everything I aspire to be. He's the definition of "friendly and competent guy that everyone takes for granted as The Normal One but then it turns out that no, he's as batshit weird as the rest of them"!! He's really nice! Utterly unflappable! One time he ripped up a guy's carpet because his favourite shiny rock got stolen!

But the actual thing I haven't been able to stop thinking about is. Pixlriffs The Actual Guy Who Makes The Videos (as opposed to Pixlriffs The Character) is making a point this season of not really doing a character arc or a central plot for his character? On a Doylist level, this is so The Actual Guy can stick to what he's more comfortable with: being in the background doing work to support other people's stories -- The Actual Guy himself describes it as kind of being like a DM. But on a Watsonian level? All of this is so. He builds ruins and structures and dots them across the landscape for the other players to find. He guides them to plot hooks interesting sites and suggests they talk to each other when there's thematic parallels in their stories they have problems in common. I keep thinking about the line from the End Poem: and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code / and the universe said I love you because you are love. And. The idea of a person who is here specifically to act as a mouthpiece for the history of the world, to speak on a past that -- on the level of the game -- doesn't exist. The idea of Pix being in some ways very much his own person but in others acting out the will or narrative of a place overflowing with those things and unable to express them. Like the universe itself saw these people telling stories and building homes and living lives with so much care and love and went, Yes, let me help. Yes, I love you, here is another story, tell it with me. Yes, let me play the game with you.

History chooses the victors… The past is not gone, it is not even past… You are the universe talking to itself... He!!!

It's so funny how obvious it is when I care about a thing. Hi, Reyni! Hope you've had fun with this, and that you've made it to the end here unscathed. :]

#while trying the answer the classics one i suddenly remembered i've been meaning to finish the name of the rose #ah!! so many books i want to read and never do!! #i don't know what possessed me to use capital letters up there #Enjoy My Capitalized Sentences. #chattering sparrow

[brighteuphony]

Gonna bundle these two questions! (ALSO SPICY AT THE BOTTOM)

Sakura had one 'relationship' and that was/is with Aren Uzumaki.

Some backstory:

On their way back from Chiyo's, Saeko, Enji and Sakura were unable to port back in Tea Country- as the civil war came into full effect, and an embargo was placed on all the major ports in an attempt to cripple trade/starve out the big trading cities/ take control of the capital (which was on the coast).

For a few weeks, Sakura and Co. were prisoners on an enemy ship that captured the previous Daimyo's niece, Unami (now heir apparent, given that the rest of her family was murdered).

On their way towards the capital (for a nice public execution), they were boarded by famed Pirate Captain/Smuggler Aren Uzumaki of The Last Sparrow- who took them aboard along with the rest of the spoils.

As the enemy closed all the ports, Sakura realized they would never make it to land for the foreseeable future and offered her services as a healer for the duration of the war in exchange for Saeko, Enji's, and Unami's safety.

Furthermore, Enji helped Unami cut a deal with Aren, in which he was promised legitimacy and exclusive trading contracts with the South under her future rule. Thus, the Last Sparrow became the Command Center for the Civil War for the next eight months.

During that time, Sakura healed, fought, and hassled Aren into teaching her basic strategy, war, and bureaucracy - something the Captain (and Unami) realized she had a good head for. (Sakura would later serve as Unami's consul after the war).

As for Aren, he is extremely intelligent, shrewd, and a powerful fuinjutsu specialist. He's a respected captain and only chose the pirate/smuggler life after the decimation of the Uzumaki clan. When Konoha didn't come to their aid in time during the third war, Aren swore never to be beholden to a shinobi village and took to the seas, denouncing shinobi-hood.

Sakura approached Aren and asked to spend the night with him on the eve of the last battle, and had an on-again, off-again relationship after the war. Aren's first love was the sea, and Sakura never wanted to be second (or third) place in anyone's life ever again, so while they aren't in any official relationship, they do find themselves in each other's arms when they cross paths. (fun fact, Aren calls Sakura 'Wildflower')

When Kankuro was poisoned, The Last Sparrow (legal now!!!) had fortuitously docked at one of Fire Country's port cities. So they could take that to Suna and cut a week off their travel time.

Kakashi was surprised to see that Aren and Sakura knew each other.

He was very unpleasantly surprised to see HOW well they knew each other. He spent a full week seething- as he watched some sleazy Icha-icha knock-off pirate Lothario take advantage of Sakura.

Once again, thank you so much for the lovely words and all the support for this AU!

SPICY UNDER CUT.

#naruto #haruno sakura #coven!sakura #kakashi hatake #kakasaku #aren uzumaki #As for her piercings Aren's ship has a tradition that any new blood's first successful battle is celebrated with a tattoo or a piercing! #we're grounding shinobi powers in some measure of reality #because someone did the math and canonically they traveled over 3k miles in TWO days to get to Suna #3k miles in two days AND had enough energy to fight S rank nin???????????????????????????? #NOT ON MY WATCH #it now takes the average genin/chunnin almost two weeks to get to suna pushing HARD- which is still insane but not quite 'two days' insane #kakashi: crying screaming throwing up #Kakashi is still struggling with recognizing feelings #and he's also struggling to cope with the fact that Sakura lived a whole life that he has no idea about #PLUS all the guilt #also to be very clear Aren did NOT take advantage of Sakura lol that's just kakashi's copium

[dulcesiabits]

a sparrow in the storm.

summary: though many plucky suitors have tried unsuccessfully to vie for your hand, Jing Yuan has to be the most persistent of them all.

notes: 6.7k words, fic, fluff, lovers to exes to lovers, author's notes

You’ve had many arrogant suitors over the years, but this newest one might be the most arrogant yet. 

A row of sumptuous gifts line the entrance to your room, and when you properly step inside, you’re greeted by a spray of flowers: orchids, pink roses, and white lilies, the perfume of which makes you dizzy. You snort as you make your way to your desk, waving your hand to the various servants who are abuzz in your room. 

“Get rid of all of them,” you instruct.

“All of them? Are you sure?” one of them questions.

“Yes. I don’t want to see a single petal left in here. Make sure you return all of the gifts, too,” you snap, and they all bow as they rush to carry out your orders.

You sit in your plush desk chair, and it’s only now that you see the red-ribboned, cream-colored letter  sitting on your desk. You don’t open it before tossing it aside.

Many people have tried to win your hand over the years, as the sole heir to the alchemy commission. One of your mothers has a noble, storied family line, dating back to the very beginning of the country’s founding, and your other mom is praised as a genius in the alchemical field. It’s no wonder those who want a taste of wealth and power flock to you like flies. You’ve managed to successfully ward all of them off so far, either with flat rejections, threats, or, in the rare case, by matchmaking them with a different prospect. 

But your newest suitor, a general? A newly minted nobleman, granted a title for his contribution and victories in the recent war? It’s only been a few days since he’s arrived back in the capital, but he’s been sending you an endless stream of presents since his first day in the city, no matter how many times you return them or burn them in the yard for his slack-jawed couriers to watch. It isn’t just physical presents, like rare silks and flowers, either. It’s reserving your favorite restaurants for you to dine in, all expenses paid, and hiring the most famous musicians to woo you with sweet love songs outside your window.

It’s disgusting, frankly, and every rejection just seems to spur him to try a different approach.

You're no stranger to dalliances, courting your fair share of lovers over the years, starting with a snowy-haired soldier you met in your youth to traveling musicians and merchants. But you were clear to all of them: this would be a passing fling and nothing more, for you had no desire to bind yourself to someone as of yet.

Marriage, after all, is a political game, and you would only enter it once you had a hand that would ensure your success. You would have to marry eventually, but you plan to do so only on your own terms. You want someone who can bring glory and wealth to your house, who wouldn’t try to usurp your position or play games over power, who would be a prudent match, and who’s intelligent enough to keep up with you. Love is not a necessity, but a potential bonus, as you do not often have the habit of mixing business and pleasure.

When you dine with your mothers in the evening, you tell them as such. They are long used to your schemes and strategies, and only smile at you over glasses of wine and plates of tenderly steamed white fish.

“This general courting you should meet your expectations then, no?” your mother poses. “He’s recently been awarded a noble title, and he was clever enough to claim victory against our enemies with minimal loss.”

“And–” Your mom winks at you, nudging your mother. “--He’s handsome. I hear all the eligible girls and boys send him proposals, but he turns them all down. It seems he’s set on someone. I wonder who?”

“Hah.” You spear a piece of marinated cucumber with your chopsticks. “Well, I’ve refused his advances, and I will continue to refuse them.”

“A pity!” your mom groans. “Just when it seems like someone meets your exacting standards. What is it about him, then, my dear child, that you dislike so?”

“I dislike his attitude,” you say bluntly. “And, more to the point, I detest being pressured like this. He doesn’t even have the sincerity to meet me in person, and gives me favors I never asked for. If he is hoping for a love match, then he shall be sorely disappointed.”

“How cold,” your mother says. “But I understand your reasoning. But would it not be prudent to give him a chance? We have never pressured you to get married, as you know, but…”

“But?” You arch an eyebrow.

“What your mother means to say,” your mom interjects, “Is that we want you to be happy! And this could be a good opportunity for you. Your pool of suitors is dwindling, and if you wait too long, you may not have a partner at all.”

“Which is to really say,” your mother says, putting her utensils across her clean bowl, “I will force your hand if you do not make a choice soon, or at least make an effort to. This general meets all of your standards, and an union would be beneficial to all of us. So try to hear him out… or I will make you.”

“Mother, what you’re giving me is the illusion of choice. Will you force me into a marriage against my will? What if I do something drastic? What if he is a foul villain, and you doom me to unhappiness, in your haste to settle a match?”

“Well, that would be most unfortunate for you. But I am your mother, and mothers are allowed to be unfair, no matter how old you are,” your mother says, and your mom tries to hide a laugh as she leans into your mother’s side.

“What’s the name of the general, again?” you say sourly.

“Jing Yuan,” your mother says. “Now, why don’t you try to meet his courier tomorrow? You could stand to learn a little more about him before you cast such hasty judgment.”

—

The next morning, you rose early, pacing around the gardens until the general’s daily present was delivered. If nothing else, he is punctual, sending presents around noon, in between the breakfast and lunch hours. But what would it take to get him off your back? Insult him at the next commission meeting? Hire someone to place a curse upon him and his household? Or march over to his residence and start a commotion, burning something down in the process?

But, no. Your mother has all but threatened you to play nice, and, as loath as you are to admit it, she does make a certain sense about gathering information on him. It is prudent to have knowledge of your enemy if you wish success in battle.

At noon, one of your servants comes to find you. To your surprise, a young boy trails after her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as his head whips around, taking in the sights of your garden, fresh and fully bloomed at this time of year. There’s a sword strapped to his back, and when he sees you, he waves.

Is this part of the general’s plans? Does he really think a cute child would be enough to make you throw yourself at his feet?

Still, you guide the boy to one of the garden’s open-air pavilions, shaded by rose bushes and intricate wooden carvings, pillows cushioning the hardness of the benches. You wave for refreshments to be brought over, chrysanthemum tea and sugar cubes and egg tarts and red bean buns, certain to tempt the appetite of a child. And you are right, for the boy immediately picks up a bun, munching without a care in the world.

“So, what brings you to the chief of the alchemy commission’s residence?” you say mildly.

“I’m Yanqing, and I’m here on behalf of the general. He’s worried because it doesn’t look like you’re happy with any of your presents, and he wants to know why.”

“Ah, I see.” You smile at the boy, whose cheeks are stuffed with pastries. “It’s quite simple. I do not like them.”

“Then what do you like? … is what he said to ask if you said you didn’t like any of your gifts.”

“Anything that doesn’t come from him,” you say bluntly. 

“Oh.” Yanqing tilts his head in confusion before his eyes light up, springing up in his seat as he leans forward. “Well, the general is pretty cool, you know! He’s the youngest person in years to be awarded a title! And he’s the reason we won all those battles in the war so quickly! His strategies are genius, and it’s like he knows what the enemy is thinking every time he makes a move… He even trained me! I’m the best with the sword, you know, but the general is stronger than me! So he’s pretty impressive!” 

You want to smile at the way Yanqing presents the general, clearly expecting you to be impressed with the general’s credentials. “And what is your relationship with the general? Are you his child?”

“What? No, no, no! Our relationship isn’t like that. I’m just his disciple!” Yanqing flails, waving his hands wildly. “He wouldn’t let relationships distract him on the battlefield! He never even left his tent when the other soldiers went out to town!” 

“So he wouldn’t love me if we were in a relationship together?” you ask dryly. “I would just be a distraction?” 

“No! He would definitely treat you well! He treats everyone well! That’s why everyone loves him! All the soldiers, and townspeople, and everything!” 

“Ah…” Yanqing perks up at your tone. “So he’s a philanderer.” The boy deflates.

“He wouldn’t! He wouldn’t do that! The general would be loyal to you!” Yanqing insists, slamming his fist down on the table for emphasis. 

“He sounds like a scoundrel,” you note. 

“I promise he’s not!” 

“I don’t know, Yanqing. It sounds like he would leave me alone to fight in battles all day, all the while flirting with all his soldiers, and then come home once in a while to assuage his guilt.” 

Have you teased the boy too much? He slumps morosely in his seat, poking idly at his egg tart. 

“Why don’t you go home for today?” you say gently. You’ve had your fun, and it wouldn’t do to prod at the boy anymore. 

“Before I do, is it okay if I give you one more present from the general?” he asks.

“Go ahead,” you say patiently, as Yanqing fumbles in his pocket and takes out a small wooden box. It’s unadorned, and you flip it open cautiously. Inside lies a single knotted tassel with small jade beads. The threads are in your favorite colors, instead of the traditional red.

“He made it himself,” Yanqing explains as you take the tassel in your hand. 

The general is skilled, if nothing else. The knot looks like a small, symmetrical flower in your hand, and you finger the clear jade beads. 

“I’ll accept it,” you say slowly. 

“Really?” Yanqing perks up. “That’s great. He’ll be honored to hear that.” 

“Does he have a matching one?” you inquire dryly. 

“I think he said he was hoping you would make one for him one day.”

“He might as well wait forever.”

Yanqing pouts, but still remembers to thank you for the food and the courtesy of hosting him before he dashes off. 

You end up placing the tassel in one of your desk drawers, hoping Jing Yuan doesn’t read your acceptance of his gift as some sort of positive sign. To you, it’s nothing more than an odd memento from a curious man, and there’s something amusing about the image of a bloodthirsty general painstakingly threading jade beads onto an elaborate tassel. 

But your courtship is going to stop at this, if you had any say in the matter.

— 

The best defense is a good offense, and the only way to win a battle is to gather knowledge on your enemy. With that reasoning, you send a letter to Yanqing (who doesn’t bother penning a reply before running to your house to inform you he’d be delighted to show you around) and prepare yourself to visit Jing Yuan’s residence. 

You go by foot, keeping your clothing plain and simple to dissuade unwanted attention. His residence– gifted to him for his achievements in war– is situated in the northern part of the city, a quiet residential district, away from the hustle and bustle of the city center. You’re not sure what you expect when you arrive: something ostentatious, or enemy heads hung on his gate to ward off visitors, perhaps.

Instead, you’re greeted with a modest wooden building, surrounded by a stone gate, and Yanqing bouncing in front of the entrance.

“Welcome to General Jing Yuan’s home,” Yanqing says formally, though he’s rocking on his heels. “I’m glad you decided to come by today! Are you–”

“No, I’m not going to accept his proposal,” you interject.

“Oh. Well! I’m more than happy to show you around, still! The general was also really happy that you took an interest in him and your future– his home!”

“If an enemy took interest in him, would he also be happy?” you ask.

“Yes, because he’d undoubtedly draw the enemy’s attention on purpose as part of his plan,” Yanqing replies seriously.

“Lovely. What’s on the agenda, Yanqing?”

Yanqing leads you through the gates and into the courtyard, showing you the pond, rows of flowered bushes, the stone pathways, and then the open-air hallways which ring the courtyard. As Yanqing guides you through the building, you note that there are hardly any servants around. Each room is all polished wood and fresh sunlight, with minimum furnishings, save for a flower arrangement or a tasteful painting. 

The last stop on the tour is a bright, airy room clearly intended for guests, with a steaming teapot already prepared on the table. Yanqing courteously pulls out a seat for you to sit in, pouring you a cup of tea without any further prompting. 

“Let me give you some refreshments,” he says. “It’s not right to have a guest over without giving them something to eat.”

“No, you don’t need to bother. I–”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Yanqing says, and dashes out of the room before you can deter him further.

You sip your cup, a pleasant jasmine brew, leaning back as you contemplate the ink brush mountains scroll across from you. Did the general come home often? His home is far too neat and quiet to imply consistent use. You haven’t run into him, either, so it is possible Jing Yuan is out… though whether this is a blessing remains to be seen. Perhaps you could pry more information out of Yanqing in the meantime.

Footsteps spring down the hall, and without looking at the doorway, you remark, “You know, Yanqing, I’m starting to suspect this general of yours is scared to meet with me–”

“Am I? I didn’t realize.” You whip your head towards the sound of the deep voice. Where you expect Yanqing to stand is a man with snow-white hair and relaxed, golden eyes, an amused quirk to his mouth.

You exhale sharply, your thoughts, once so orderly, tangle together like a ball of yarn. It couldn’t be. Of course you’re expecting to run into the general at some point, have half-hoped for it, but what you haven’t expected is that the general is also your first lover, someone you’d courted  many years ago in your youth.

“Jing?” you say, blood roaring in your head.

“Surprised?” he says, lounging in a chair. “I told you I’d be back, didn’t I?”

At that moment, Yanqing bursts into the room, a plate of snacks balanced in his arms. “I’m back!” Heis gaze darts around the room, from your tense expression to Jing Yuan’s casual smile. “General! When did you get here?”

“Just now. Actually, Yanqing,” Jing Yuan says, “Why don’t you go out into the courtyard and practice your form? My guest and I have much to discuss.”

“... Okay, general.” Yanqing places the tray on the table, and hesitates; his eyebrows furrow quizzically as he glances from you to the general, but he only bows before darting out of the room, despite his obvious curiosity.

“I’m sure there’s much you’re curious about,” Jing Yuan says pleasantly. 

“I do. So perhaps you could humor me and explain what you’re trying to accomplish,” you say coolly.

You swear there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes even as he lowers his head deferentially. “As you wish, my liege.”

—

Your relationship with Jing Yuan started when you were young and, like all youth your age, felt the stirrings of rebellion– against who, or what, didn’t matter quite as much. Reckless, chafing against the loving restraints of your mothers, and eager to make something of yourself, you decided the best way to do so was to throw yourself into a relationship, hopefully one they didn’t approve of.

That’s when Jing Yuan caught your attention, though you only knew him as Jing back then. A soldier in training, with a shy smile and a quiet countenance, his hair short enough to stand in unruly, snowy tufts at the back of his head, you hadn’t thought much of him when he was first introduced to you. He was sent to guard your mom’s alchemical business, and would bow to you wordlessly whenever you visited. 

You were more practiced in matters of business, alchemy and politics, but even with your limited knowledge you could tell he was talented with a sword. When a thief tore through your mom’s shop, hunting for rare herbs to sell on the black market, he had unsheathed his lance with lightning-quick precision, and in a few swift, well-aimed strikes, the thief was on his back, Jing’s lance poised at his throat. 

You watched from the back of the shop, lurking around the storeroom, as Jing handed the herbs back to your mom, who thanked him profusely. 

He noticed your gaze, and smiled at you. “Are you okay, my liege? You weren’t hurt, were you?”

You tossed your head. “I’m fine. You handled him before anything could happen.”

Still, your interest in him was piqued after that day. So on a restless, cloudy afternoon, with the smell of a storm sharp in the air, you sought him out at your mother’s store, as dutifully guarding the entrance as ever.

“Do you have time for lunch?” you asked him. “I would be honored if you could join me for a bite to eat.”

Like an inquisitive cat, Jing tilted his head. “It wouldn’t be right for me to abandon my post in the middle of my shift.”

“You’d hardly be a good guard if you keeled over from hunger,” you pointed out, “And you don’t have to go too far, besides. We can just stay right here.”

“I could hardly refuse a request from you, my liege,” Jing said.

With his permission secured, you brought out the meal you had packed back home. It was simple, nothing more than a few meat buns and some tea, and the two of you sat and ate on one of the stone benches outside of your mom’s workshop. If you were to court someone, you had to dine them first, didn’t you?

“Why did you become a soldier, Jing?”

“Because it was the only path open to me,” he said easily. “My skills wouldn’t find much purchase elsewhere.”

“And what sort of skills are those?”

“The art of combat. I also dabble in chess, occasionally, though I couldn’t have made a living off of it.”

“Chess? Why don’t you play me in a round sometime? I’d love to see your skill,” you said keenly.

“If you find my skills desirable, then I would be honored to,” Jing said.

“Speaking of desirable… is there anyone you’re interested in?” you posed, watching his reaction from the corner of your eye.

Jing chewed his bun instead of responding, though the tips of his ears reddened. “No… Not in particular.”

“There’s someone I’m interested in,” you continued, taking note of the way he inhaled so sharply he started coughing. “I’m hoping I can grow closer to him.”

“Ah– Is… is that so…?”

“Yes. I think I’d be able to do so with your help,” you said, emboldened by his reaction. You smiled prettily at him, in a way you’d learned to do to charm the nobles at any social gatherings you intended. “So… Do you think we could see each other again?”

Jing’s eyes darted away, and he seemed for all the world like a small sparrow, pecking at the crumbs of affection you offered. “If… If you would be pleased by my presence, I would… be flattered to see you again.”

Like your first encounter, your relationship with Jing proceeded in much the same way. You meticulously planned every outing, reserving restaurants and reading up on festivals in advance, eavesdropping on gossiping maids to learn of the most popular spots for couples in the city. Jing was content to go along at your pace, never brooking a word of complaint even as you, looking back, realized how any other person might have been annoyed at your single-mindedness and desire to always get your way.

He was agreeable, and unerringly polite, and clumsily sweet in all the right ways. He offered his arm for you to hold as you strolled about, and tolerated all your badgering for chess games, even when you grew so competitive you could play for hours without stopping. Sometimes he brought you flowers, single stems of white lilies or sprigs of plum blossoms you would set proudly on your desk until the perfume faded and the petals wilted.

You liked him. You liked him, because he was endearing, and went along with all your antics, even the ones that could have gotten him in trouble if the two of you had been caught. Once you had asked him to meet you in the middle of night, when the fireflies were thick in the air like stars on earth. 

“My liege, are you sure about this?” he whispered as you waved to him from your window. 

“Of course! Do not back out on me now, Jing!” With your hands for purchase, you set yourself on the window ledge, experimentally lowering one leg over the other side.

“Please, let me help you,” Jing said quietly, and offered you one of his hands. You took it, swaying unsteadily, and Jing quickly reached for your hip to help you balance. His hands, you remembered, were calloused, with clever, slender fingers, his touch like sunlight. He flushed at the contact, though didn’t let go of you before he could guide you over the window and set you onto the grass below. Until you reached a small hill a good dozen minutes away from your home, he shadowed your steps, always just a pace behind, and always on guard for threats you couldn’t make out in the dark. With his warm gaze which never drifted from you, and the sea of fireflies, you couldn’t help but feel like no threats could touch you.

“Let’s catch some fireflies,” you suggested, once the two of you reached your destination. “Don’t you think that’s a romantic activity?”

At your words, Jing swiftly cupped his hands around a soft glow, and you crept closer. He slowly unfurled his fingers to reveal his captive, a firefly that pulsed with light like a heartbeat. “Is this to your satisfaction?” he asked.

The firefly spread its wings and flew off his palm. The two of you watched its path, an afterglow of light trailing through the sky. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Jing said, but he wasn’t looking at the firefly anymore.

You cleared your throat. “So, Jing. In such a romantic, late-night setting like this… when two young people meet in a clandestine manner… What do you suppose would happen?”

“Any manner of things, I suppose.”

“True, but there’s one in particular that’s on my mind.”

“My liege…?”

“Jing, I want to kiss you,” you said plainly. His face shone in the light. 

“Y… You do?”

“I’ve been courting you for the past few weeks. Why wouldn’t I?” you said impatiently. “But before we go any further, I want you to understand that this is only for fun. Don’t worry; I don’t expect marriage talks to come out of this.”

“Marriage?” Jing repeated, tasting the word on his tongue.

“Yes, marriage. But we’re young. We’re allowed to have our fun, aren’t we? I have a business to inherit, and you have dreams of your own, surely. We need not get in each other’s way. But, for now…” You placed a hand flat against his chest. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Jing’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked down at your hand; slowly, he brought his own to press against yours, keeping your touch captive against his chest. 

“Yes,” he said quietly.

And on a midsummer’s night, with only fireflies as your witnesses, you shared your first kiss with Jing. He tasted like sweat and mint, and his lips were chapped, but you wouldn’t have traded that moment for anything else.

For the rest of your courtship, the two of you would act like the lovers you saw wandering the streets of the city. You spent all of your freetime with Jing: bought skewers at a vendor so you could feed him by hand and watch his face redden, convinced him to take you on a boat ride and glide through the canals, feed the wild sparrows nesting in the eaves of your house.

It was only once your studies in business management and alchemical laws increased, and Jing had to be called away for longer and longer stretches of time to train, that you decided your relationship was too much of a strain on your schedule to continue. Better to end the relationship here, when the two of you were still on good terms, than to watch it shrivel beyond repair.

You explained as much to him on the day you broke up with him. “We said we would keep it casual, didn’t we? I don’t want it to become too much of a burden in our lives. Besides that, I do not plan to take any of my relationships seriously unless it’s with the expectation of marriage, and I don’t plan to do that unless my lover meets all of my expectations.”

“What are those expectations?” Jing asked.

You tap your chin thoughtfully. “Well… they must have a title if not a lineage, and have enough fortune to be a boon to my house. They must be intelligent, thoughtful, cunning and ambitious, but not to the point they attempt to limit me or usurp my position as heir to the alchemy commission. And they must be able to keep up with me and assist me in my goals for my future business.”

You thought Jing would make a joke about your lofty expectations, but he only said simply, “And you would marry someone who met all those?”

“Well, yes. Though my mothers keep telling me to lower my expectations.”

What is he thinking? For once, Jing’s eyes are hooded, the perpetual sleepiness replaced by something you can’t place a finger on; the closest word you have for it is hunger. 

“Then, my liege…” Jing takes one of your hands, as reverentially as he would touch the emperor himself, and places a chaste kiss along your knuckles, his lips grazing against your fingers. “I’ll come back for you one day, but let us say goodbye for now.”

You didn’t think much of his words at the time; it was simply a parting from a soldier who had always done everything much too seriously. You did, however, entertain a brief fantasy that Jing would come back and elope with you, but that passed like the rain during the summer: sudden, intense, and gone more quickly than it arrived. You were busy, and though you flirted once or twice at social functions over the years, took on all manners of temporary lovers, your main focus was always on your duties towards your house. 

You lost track of Jing over the years, and you chalked it up to a natural consequence of time and distance. Jing became a memory you could look back fondly on, a foolish first relationship that you chased after with a youthful arrogance… until he showed up in front of you again.

—

“You really had no idea that I was the one courting you?” Jing Yuan’s voice is amused, sleepy, but each word possesses a certain gravity. He’s a careful speaker, you think. Someone who weighs the measure of everything he says. He sits across from you at the table, fingers steepled as you talk.

“I didn’t read any of your letters,” you say coolly. “Nor was I expecting an old fling to start pursuing me again, when none have in the past. We ended on clear terms.”

“Does it change things, now that you know who I am?”

“Not at all. In fact, it’s even more disappointing to realize it’s you courting me. I would have thought burning your presents was answer enough to your proposal.”

“I simply thought you were dissatisfied with what I bought you,” he says easily. “Material objects are easily replaceable.”

“And did I not spurn your disciple as well?”

“Yanqing is a child, though he dislikes being called such. He’s talented with a sword, but his conversational skills are lacking.”

“And,” you say pointedly, “You are an annoying, insufferable man.”

“Ah,” Jing Yuan says. “Also easily remediable. Shall I prepare an entirely separate estate for you to live in, and stay silent forever after in your presence, so you need not fear seeing or hearing me?”

“Have you no sense?” you snap. “Do you really see nothing wrong with my behavior? Do you not understand what rejection is? Must I send a tutor to your household?”

“Ah, but that’s because you’re doing everything on purpose, not out of ignorance,” he says smoothly. “I know you well enough; you only have eyes for your dreams and goals, and little attention to spare to anyone else. So playing these little games with you… this is the only way you will turn your gaze to me, is it not? My dear liege–” Jing leans closer to you, and you wonder why you never realized the boy you thought was a little bird is actually a lion– “whether you accept my proposal or not, whether you find me a detestable nuisance or a respectable ally, I am satisfied as long as you think of me, with fondness or with loathing. As long as I occupy your mind as much as you occupy mine, then I will be happy.”

“You are an insidious man, and I shudder to think of the state of the city if someone like you somehow managed to crawl up the ranks,” you say flatly.

“Then shall I give up all my wealth and all my titles for you? You only need to say the word.”

“Are you mad?”

“Only if love is a form of madness, my liege.”

“I should never have gotten involved with you.”

“You cannot change the past,” Jing Yuan says, and you want to flick him in the forehead.

“Which is a shame.” You gulp down the rest of your cooled tea, slamming the cup on the table. “At the very least, stop sending me things I don’t want. No flowers, no presents, no love songs. It’s distracting.”

“Of course.”

“Then…”

“Will you stop by again some time?” he says pleasantly. “I’ll be sure to inform the guards to let you in if you ever stop by, no matter the time or circumstance.”

“Confident, are you?”

“Have you given me any reason not to be?”

“... Hah. Never mind. I need time away from you to clear my head.”

Jing Yuan simply lets you go with a smile, and as you step outside his estate, you had a feeling it would not be your last time visiting.

—

After your visit to Jing Yuan, true to his word, he does not send you any presents, nor couriers or musicians to pester you. You would be relieved with the sudden peace if you didn’t suspect he had something else planned. The next few days pass with little fanfare, until an afternoon in which your mom requires your assistance managing her inventory.

“My darling child, did you hear?” your mom says conspiratorially, lowering her face next to yours as the two of you sort through dried herbs.

“Hear what, mom?” you ask. Your mom loves to gossip and chatter, and hears news from all corners of the city thanks to the customers filing through her alchemy shop. Though it is usually your mother who indulges her, you don’t mind listening occasionally as well. It’s always prudent to know what is going inside of the city, after all.

“The general�� the one who’s been courting you… has been seen with a few lovers!”

“And why is this my business?” you say, expertly bundling a few dried stalks together. “Should I congratulate him on fooling multiple people to find him a viable partner?”

“Why… they say there’s talk of him marrying one of them soon.”

You crush the herbs in your hand, dried green flakes escaping through your closed fingers. “Is that so?”

Your mom watches you in amusement. “I thought you didn’t care for him.”

“I do not. I find myself loathing him even more now, in fact, as he seems to be a man who can’t keep his word.”

For the rest of your time with your mom, you fume and plan ways to curse Jing Yuan as you stack containers of herbs in the cool, dark storeroom. Ah, you see how it is. For all of his grand declarations, as soon as he gets tired of you, he has no problem finding someone else, does he not? But– and a sudden jolt of embarrassment shoots down your spine– that is all idle gossip. It is the height of foolishness to believe something without verifying it for yourself. Perhaps that man has made you lose your mind through sheer annoyance; certainly, your intelligence seems to have lowered after prolonged contact with him.

You should be rejoicing. It shouldn’t bother you to hear that he might have found someone else. It shouldn’t, but…

You take a breath. No, if you let yourself go down this path, then you would fall into a spiral of doubt. Perhaps you should seek the source of your frustration to quell your nerves. But, before that, you would need to prepare a few things.

—

You march into Jing Yuan’s residence like a soldier heading to battle, heedless of anything around you. No servants stop you, wide-eyed as they are, and even the occasional guard only bows at your presence (Yanqing once told you that Jing Yuan had hired more people after you complained about the lack of personnel). You stalk through the house, searching for the general; he can’t hide behind a forest of varnished wood and lacquered bowls forever.

It’s in his office that you find him, relaxed and poised at his desk as he pours over some documents, head in his hand like he’s liable to fall asleep at any moment. 

“General,” you say, all acidic politeness as you stride up to his desk, slamming your hands down so hard the corners of the page flutter. 

“My liege. If I knew you were coming, I would have prepared some snacks,” he says mildly, but you don’t miss how all his boneless relaxation melts away, replaced by an alert interest, though he doesn’t move a single inch.

“Don’t bother.”

“Are you okay, my liege? Though your harsh words and fiery wit are normally music to my ears, it seems as if something is bothering you.” Jing Yuan eases forward in his chair, face right in front of yours so you can count all of his eyelashes.

“You…” You bite your lip. What were you doing? You aren’t even engaged to him. You have no right to be jealous of who he chooses to spend his time with; it is not uncommon for eligible bachelors to test the waters with multiple partners, as you know from firsthand experience. But you couldn’t back down now. “You… are you planning on finally settling down?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I just wanted to know if I could count on you being out of my sight forever if you’ve found someone else.”

Jing Yuan cocks his head. “Ah, I see. You’re worried I no longer care for you. I find your lack of forthrightness charming as well.”

“You’re not answering the question.”

“What would you do if I said I had?” he remarks.

“I’d send you a thousand presents as thanks in return for all the ones you flooded my room with,” you reply tartly. 

“Well, I can’t have that, can I? Where would I put them all? To answer your question, my liege, you are the only one whom I will ever devote myself to. You are all I think about. All I do is for you. The idea someone could take your place would be as foolish as a candle becoming the sun,” he says simply.

You twist your hands. It is a grandiose declaration; from anyone else, you might have laughed. But Jing Yuan spoke each word with a measured sincerity. You think if you were to ask him to burn down the city and crown you as the ruler, he would do so with a smile. 

“There are rumors around the city about you and your lovers,” you venture.

“There are rumors about you, too, speculating that you have a hidden lover you jealously hide from the public view. People love to talk; I could not walk around with even a friend without gossip sparking.”

You let loose a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. So it is nothing more than idle tongues wagging… and the gossipers of the city would rejoice at the news they could share after today.

Jing Yuan doesn’t seem all that surprised when you take a pouch out of your pocket and slide it across the desk. He unveils a tassel with intricate knots vaguely in the shape of a lion head, made with strands of soft yellow and white, interspersed with small amber beads. Jing Yuan says nothing as he examines it, holding it as if it were an offering to the gods.

“Yanqing said it, didn’t he? That you hoped I would make you a matching tassel?” you say. “You can take this as an answer to your proposal. This should quell any rumors of potential lovers for either of us.”

“My liege, I may just kiss you,” he murmurs. 

“Then hurry up and do so.”

And Jing Yuan reaches for you across the desk, papers flying as you ungracefully prop yourself on top of all his important paperwork, ink smearing, pens clacking to the floor. His hands are on your face, cradling you like a promise, while he kisses you with an increasing hunger that leaves you breathless. You run your fingers through his hair, tugging the silky soft strands to pull him closer, and he surrenders to your touch.

This is a prudent match for your family, of course. Jing Yuan, as your mother once noted, has power. Money. Fame and glory. He is loyal. Devoted. He can keep up with you, does not quail under your words, and has no schemes of vying with you for power.

But more than that, more than his titles, you want him. You want the man in front of you and, this time, you would not let him go.

#liya writes #honkai star rail #jing yuan #hsr #honkai stair rail x reader #jing yuan honkai #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail imagines

[xamiipholia]

Since it’s been a year since Burning Shores came out, some thoughts on Seyka:

TL;DR: Great character, really happy with her as a love interest for Aloy. They do some really interesting things with her that I never really see addressed so I wanted to talk about them.

She is tangibly shown to be much more of a match for Aloy through gameplay. Compared to other npcs, she solves things faster, does more damage, is a much more formidable melee combatant, faster climber - she even has a fucking Valor Surge using her Focus that does pretty significant tear damage to large machines like Slaughterspines. Environmental storytelling- Seyka’s skiff has at least 2-3 Tiderippers’ worth of parts, meaning she’s been out on her own killing the things to build boat motors, and she has some ambient dialogue that strongly suggests she’s fought and killed Slaugterspines before. Is some of this npc tech advancements in Burning Shores? Maybe, but it feels intentional. 

Seyka has a natural probing curiosity about the old world that for the most part Aloy’s other companions didn’t have without some significant hand-holding from Aloy to get them started, and some of her close friend (but not base team) characters just don’t have at all. I don’t mean this as a moral judgement, everyone is different and has different strengths and priorities , but it’s absolutely critical that a partner for Aloy have that kind of curiosity - it’s such a big part of her character. While she lives in this new world, she’s never going to be entirely a part of it. Like she says, she finds belonging in individuals, and not really the tribes. I don’t really see Aloy settling down in Meridian or Mother’s Heart. She needs to have a life of exploration and discovery and Seyka seems cut from that cloth too, whether she was always that way or being marooned gave her a fresh perspective.

Seyka did risk death using the focus and decided to do it anyway- in Rheng’s notes he calls for capital punishment for her. The threat is never *too* present but honestly I think that’s a broader critique of the series and pretty consistent with the writing of conflicts in Horizon. I agree they could have played up the dramatic tension a bit, but this is a person who weighed the risk of a military execution by a totalitarian state and immediately decided it was worth it to save her sister and others. I think Aloy can intimately relate, given what she went through for Beta.

Even though it’s a DLC, she has a TON of screen time, probably comparable to Kotallo in HFW, and Horizon does SO much storytelling through gameplay and ambient dialogue. I think she’s given a LOT of narrative space to breathe. She’s also has her own musical cues and leitmotifs that do a ton of foreshadowing work through the DLC - in terms of musical cues and framing she’s very associated with the acoustic guitar, and the flute melody in ‘Her Sky, Her Sea’ has for Aloy and Seyka the same function that ‘It Can’t Last’ does for Ellie and Dina in TLOU2 - next time you play Burning Shores, listen for it. That and the guitar cues from ‘The Idea of Home’ and ‘For His Entertainment’ do a lot of emotional work. It’s great stuff.

Okay and lastly- YMMV on this one - I’ve def talked about it with friends before but I don’t think I’ve said it on Tumblr. I’m a firm believer that meta narratives and the way that stories are situated and created in our own world matter and that art deserves to be taken seriously and dissected. I love Horizon, but it, and Aloy as a protagonist, are absolutely drenched in white savior and colonial storytelling tropes. Every time I play Frozen Wilds, all I can think of is Jack Sparrow going “and then they made me their chief”. There’s a lot of iffy stuff in the games, as much as I absolutely love them. We’ll have to see how H3 goes, but Burning Shores is MUCH better about this and honestly Seyka is a huge part of it. The story centers itself on a queer woman of color who is pretty tangibly presented as Aloy’s equal with her own strengths and weaknesses throughout the story and takes the lead just as often if not more than Aloy does, which I find really refreshing. It doesn’t entirely fix Aloy’s white savior issues but I think it’s a really good move for the narrative that continues the themes found in HFW about community and connection.

Horizon Zero Dawn: The Frozen Wilds (2017)

#Seyka #horizon forbidden west #hfw #aloy #horizon #horizon zero dawn #guerrilla games #hzd #horizon burning shores #hfw seyka #horizon critical #The musical leitmotifs are gooooood shit #It was one of the things that really hooked me with the dlc because Horizon had never done that for a character relationship before #Also the last point is not a personal attack #I like lots of vaguely problematic things

[sinisteredgirl]

I just need to rant about my favorite chapter in the entire series so far: The Meeting (Chapter 9, Vol. 11 of the Light Novel).

As a preface, I love political schemes and intrigues. It's the same reason why I love shrewd and cunning characters.

And holy shit, this chapter had me grinning from ear to ear. And by the end of it, I was just as stunned as the Western Capital bureaucrats who watched this nerve-wracking dance between Jinshi and Gyoku-ou.

Heavy spoilers ahead!

At the beginning of the chapter, we see Jinshi and his entourage (Gaoshun and Chue) make their way to a meeting place after being summoned by Gyoku-ou—then leader of the Western Capital and Empress Gyokuyou's brother. During the carriage ride, we are treated with Jinshi's thoughts on the ongoing Locust plague relief efforts.

It's by no means an exaggeration to say that he has done so fucking much to prepare for the plague. A short laundry list of his accomplishments would include the following:

As early as Vol. 5, he raised taxes on grains to accommodate the expected shortfall from the devastation. He also banned sparrow-hunting to increase the insects' natural predators.

He brought tons and tons of provisions and supplies (e.g. potatoes).

Help from the Capital came quickly because he sent a post-horse as soon as the swarm came—also taking into consideration the time it took for the request to pass through the Capital's committees.

He sent messengers to assess the damage to nearby villages and calculated the needed food per location.

He wrote close to 200 letters soliciting for more aid to the Western Capital.

He tapped his team to research on fast-growing crops and medicine.

But given how limited his reach is within the Western Capital and how much faster it would be if Gyoku-ou handles the distribution, he lets him distribute what he has prepared. The downside of course is that Gyoku-ou gets all the credit, but Jinshi would rather throw away pride than not help people. I love how we get a glimpse of his psyche:

Even his thoughts on his name is revealing. So very human, as Ah-Duo mentioned in Vol. 15.

Soon after, they arrive at the meeting place with Gyoku-ou and Lakan already present. As usual, Lakan is busy working on his Go problems.

Gyoku-ou thanks Jinshi for all his efforts but now asks for help in getting more soldiers. He reveals his true goal: to start a war against Shaoh, with the Imperial Brother leading the army. He defends this by saying that resources would come faster to the Western Capital by annexing Shaoh’s ports, but we know that Gyoku-ou's deep seated hatred for all foreigners is behind all this. Gyoku-ou even uses the previous Shaoh Shrine Maiden incident to goad Jinshi into going to war.

Jinshi is of course appalled by the idea. This would make them no different than bandits. Lakan, however, is not interested in the 'why'; all he knows is how to win a war. What follows is a pretty accurate and telling description of Lakan:

I really like this depiction of Lakan: he possesses no malice or virtue. At his core, he is a true and frightening neutral piece.

What follows then is one of my favorite exchanges in the series: Jinshi's verbal smackdown with Gyoku-ou. He first punctures Gyoku-ou's scheme by mentioning his merchant father, Gyoku-en:

Jinshi hits him where it hurts the most as this is a man who is almost obsessed with being Gyoku-en's eldest son. It’s part of Gyoku-ou’s complicated complex; he will do whatever it takes to maintain his position as Gyoku-en's eldest.

Jinshi then follows it up with plain rejection of the plan as well as an insult exchange with Gyoku-ou:

(LOL Chue with her thumbs-up! I imagine Gaoshun breaking into cold sweat during the whole exchange though.)

Finally, Jinshi masterfully maneuvers his way out of war by manipulating Lakan:

It took me a minute to pick up my own jaw from the floor because hot damn, that is one hell of a way to squash a brewing war. I adore moments like this when Jinshi fully manifests his shrewd side—the "Imperial Brother" mode, which Maomao described as "a man who could and would use people as pawns".

(And while later on, Gyoku-ou does effectively corner Jinshi into going to war, it isn't so much as Jinshi's lack of political skill as it is Gyoku-ou being really that good of a politician.)

I know we only get snippets of powerplays like this as we are in Maomao's POV 99% of the time, but I absolutely love this chapter and the whole Western Capital 2 arc for dialing the stakes up to a 10. Truly the best arc through and through.

#the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto jinshi #light novel #light novel spoilers #Jinshi #Lakan #Gyoku-ou #vol 11

[dostoyevsky-official]

what we can learn from kievan rus is that you want to find someone like olga, who first tricked three successive waves of messengers from the drevlian tribes who murdered her husband into bloody massacres, then led an army to besiege their capital and, after asking for three sparrows as a peace offering, attached little packets of sulphur to their feet, razing the whole city

[fatehbaz]

Various different ways of effectively legalizing slavery. All on display in different regions colonized by England. Including the formal system of chattel slavery at plantations in the United States; the criminalization of poverty and enforced labor regimes of urban factories in the British metropole in London; and the prison labor of penal colonies in Australia.

Reading about how some people were victims of all of these ways of de facto enslavement. For example, all of these conditions of imprisonment were experienced by one man named John Moseley.

Around the year 1800, this forced labor existed across the British Empire. At the time of the American Revolution, Moseley had been enslaved in tobacco fields under the chattel slavery system in the Tidewater region of colonial Virginia. When Britain offered emancipation to slaves willing to join the military campaign against the Americans, Moseley joined the British forces. When Britain conceded and surrendered, Moseley feared that he would be re-enslaved in the United States, where chattel slavery remained legal, so he fled to London. However, around this same time, in England, rural livelihoods were being made more difficult; during this so-called Industrial Revolution, many were forced to move to cities or accept manufacturing jobs. And authorities were beginning the tradition of criminalizing poverty, rounding up “vagrants and vagabonds” in urban areas, as debt and poverty were forcing people to work in brutal labor conditions in factories. So Moseley sought income through criminal fraud. Moseley was arrested. He was sentenced to death. However, a death sentence could be commuted if the prisoner submitted to “transportation” and labor. And thus Moseley was once again imprisoned in chains, once again forced to work, and shipped to the convict colonies of Australia.

As Jeff Sparrow puts it: 

To control the desperate and the jobless, the authorities passed harsh new laws, a legislative program designed to quell disorder and ensure a pliant workforce for the factories. The Riot Act banned public disorder; the Combination Act made trade unions illegal; the Workhouse Act forced the poor to work; the Vagrancy Act turned joblessness into a crime. Eventually, over 220 offences could attract capital punishment - or, indeed, transportation. [...] [C]onvict transportation - a system in which prisoners toiled without pay under military discipline - replicated many of the worst cruelties of slavery. [...] Middle-class anti-slavery activists expressed little sympathy for Britain’s ragged and desperate, holding [...] [them] responsible for their own misery. The men and women of London’s slums weren’t slaves. They were free individuals – and if they chose criminality, [...] they brought their punishment on themselves. That was how Phillip [commander of the British First Fleet settlement in Australia] could decry chattel slavery while simultaneously relying on unfree labour from convicts. The experience of John Moseley, one of the eleven people of colour on the First Fleet, illustrates how, in the Australian settlement, a rhetoric of liberty accompanied a new kind of bondage. [...] The eventual commutation of a capital sentence to transportation meant that armed guards marched a black ex-slave, chained once more by the neck and ankles, to the Scarborough, on which he sailed to New South Wales. [...] For John Moseley, the “free land” of New South Wales brought only a replication of that captivity he’d endured in Virginia. His experience was not unique. [...] [T]hroughout the settlement, the old strode in, disguised as the new. [End quote. Text by Jeff Sparrow. “Friday essay: a slave state - how blackbirding in colonial Australia created a legacy of racism.” The Conversation. 4 August 2022.]

#abolition #prison #labor

[paganimagevault]

Statue of Yang Guifei at Huaqing Pool 20th-21st C. CE

"The waters of the [Huaqing pool] hot springs were smooth, and washed over her pale white skin.

The palace maids helped her to leave the pool, because she was too delicate and lacked strength.

She had dark black hair, and the face of a flower, with golden jewelry dangling from her hair.

The sound of the war drums from Yuyang began to shake the earth,

And broke the spell of the Song of rainbow skirts and feather robes.

Smoke and dust descended upon the nine layered watchtowers of the imperial palace,

Traveling more than one hundred li from the western gate of the capital.

The six armies of the emperor refused to advance any further, so the emperor was left without a choice,

The writhing fair maiden, whose long and slender eyebrows resembled the feathery feelers of a moth, died in front of the horses.

Her ornate headdress fell to the ground, and nobody picked it up;

Then her kingfisher hair ornament, her gold sparrow hairpin and her jade hair clasp.

His Majesty covered his face, for he could not save her.

Looking back, he saw a stream of blood and tears mixing together."

-Composed by Bai Juyi in the year 806, The Song of Everlasting Regret (or Sorrow) details the events surrounding the death of the lady Yang Guifei during the Anshi [An-Lushan] Rebellion in 755.

#chinese art #chinese history #tang dynasty #ancient history #ancient china #history #literature #poems and poetry #art #antiquities #sculpture #statue #ancient literature

[sepdet]

@torc87 in the replies to this post mentioned loving renowned Russian-Armenian 19th century painter Ivan Aivazovsky, inviting us to look him up.

I just did, and now I'm marveling at his seascapes and, especially, Aivazovsky's use of color. He graduated from the Imperial Academy of the Arts in St Petersburg with high honors, and also studied in Italy — where I suspect he may have adapted the bold color glazes of Titian — France, and the Netherlands.   In fact, he was a world traveler, as his misty paintings of Niagara and the Great Pyramid attest.

A View of the Bosphorus with the Hagia Sophia and the Maiden's tower in the Moonlight.

(more striking pictures below!)

Ship at Sea (notice it's mostly two complementary colors, and he lets the background show through some areas while treating others with a draftsman's attention to detail... this painting is about 1860. Aivazovsky was working in Paris in 1856-57, about the time the Impressionists were scandalizing the Salon.

Sunset 1866

The Ninth Wave (survivors of a shipwreck about to have a very bad time)

Tiflis (Tbilisi, capital of Georgia)

Moscow in Winter from the Sparrow Hills

Niagara Falls 1892

Winter Landscape

Self-Portrait, Portrait of the Artist's Wife Anna Burnazyan

@torc87 — I just did a 3am dash through his Wikipedia entry, which is of course only as good as the randos who edit it.  please feel free to offer your own thoughts,favorite images, or corrections!

#ivan aivazovsky #russian art #oil painting #romantic art #seascapes

[bookoftheironfist]

Sparrow: "Iron Fist, this is my fight." Danny: "But I--" Sparrow: "I have spoken. I'll handle Choshin. You deal with the rest of the mess you brought with you. Now, Iron Fist!" Iron Fist vol. 5 #76 by Ed Brisson, Mike Perkins, Andy Troy, and Travis Lanham

I could have sworn I'd geeked out about this before, but when I brought up the subject in this post and then went looking, I didn't find anything, so I'm doing it now! Brisson gave us a lot of cool and impactful pieces of lore in his run, but this in particular is a stand-out moment that I think about a lot.

While we have learned a lot about the Iron Fist's role and legacy over the years, what we have not seen very much of is the way Iron Fists operate within K'un-Lun itself. Nearly always, they seem to leave to have adventures on Earth, to fight in wars, to experience the outside world. What we have seen is that when at home, the Iron Fist is expected to help defend the city, and to lead (or at least, fight at the head of) the army, as shown in Power Man and Iron Fist volume 1. We also know that the Iron Fist, like the rest of the Immortal Weapons, is a figurehead and representative (a mascot, if you will) of K'un-Lun when it has diplomatic interactions with the other Capital Cities of Heaven. The Iron Fist has a lot of power and pull, but they are not in charge. As a Weapon, they are wielded, and the person who does the wielding for K'un-Lun is the Yu-Ti, the city's ruler.

Because Danny spent so much time outside of K'un-Lun, and because their relationship was so icy, we didn't get to see many normal Iron Fist/Yu-Ti interactions between Danny and his uncle Nu-An. But following Nu-An's disappearance in Immortal Iron Fist and Sparrow's ascension to the position of Yu-Ti, we ended up, for a very brief period of time, with an incredibly cool situation: Danny as the Iron Fist, and his childhood best friend as his boss. And this new power dynamic was showcased beautifully in this moment in the Brisson/Perkins run, when Danny returns to K'un-Lun to help protect it from an invading force. For the first time, we got to see that traditional role of the Iron Fist as protector and champion, yet subject to the commands of the Yu-Ti.

Of course, seeing these two particular characters fill these roles is made all the more impactful by the fact that this is not their normal relationship at all. In this moment and context, they are not Sparrow and Danny, best friends (and maybe more) since childhood; they are K'un-Lun's ruler and K'un-Lun's Weapon, which is a new dynamic that they need to figure out how to negotiate for themselves. I freaked out my first time reading this issue, when Danny tried to argue and Sparrow shut him down with "I have spoken", because this was key worldbuilding that we were getting to see in action.

Aaaaugh! I would read fifty issues of this.

#I miss this run so much... #Iron Fist vol. 5 #Iron Fist #Danny Rand #Yu-Ti #Sparrow #Commentary #ID in alt text

[leafatlaw]

i hope this is the 21st day of the month of September, that the alien carnivorous plants takeover the earth, by our own greed and hubris.

#something seomthing i know lsoh works more as a commentary on capitalism and how thats the real evil of the musical #but i think its funnier this way #oh wanting to talk about lsoh now #lsoh #sparrow speaks