#that said - folks please be very cognizant of the warnings at the beginning of the video. there were still parts I had to look away from | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

funkzpiel · 4 years

Note

Geralt wonders why he can never get rid of Jaskier. One night Jaskier is drunk and telling Geralt stories of his childhood. How his mother was once saved from a monster before he was born. The man took no coin in thanks, only claimed the Law of Surprise. His father died in the attack, and later his mother discovered that she was pregnant with Jaskier. His mother never saw the man again. Jaskier chuckles to himself, not noticing how Geralt has suddenly gone silent and wide-eyed.

I changed the background of the ‘how’ a bit, but I hope you still enjoy it.

Together

“There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you are meant to be.”- John Lennon

Jaskier, by the definition of his very personality, was Geralt’s polar opposite; and yet, for a man so utterly unlike the witcher, the bard had an uncanny ability with comfort. That was how Geralt found himself sitting at a bar with company rather than alone. It had been a few months since ‘fate’ had begun to reappear into his life – little tendrils of coincidences and off-hand remarks from various people and events that were constantly reminding him that the clock was ticking. His child surprise was coming for him.

With every warning and every sign of the inevitable, Geralt felt his jaw clench tighter and tighter until a dull pain had rooted into his temples, constant and burning. Everyone had an opinion. Everyone felt the need to tell him what to do; to just give in. Fate was, after-all, unavoidable - or so they insist on telling him. But “fate” was a ruse made by weak-willed men who wanted to hide their deeds behind excuses like ‘inevitable’ and such, and Geralt wanted nothing to do with it. There was no such thing as fate, he was definitely not about to take in a child-ward any time soon, and that was all there was to it.

“You’re grinding again,” Jaskier said easily, slipping back into his spot across the table from Geralt as he slid another full pint toward the man. He gestured at his own jaw with a twirl of a finger and elaborated, “Your teeth,” when Geralt didn’t immediately stop – as if he had merely misunderstood.

Geralt pursed his lips with a grunt, took the flagon, and imbibed a hearty sip. He wiped the froth from his lip with the back of his hand and continued looking sour. They had just finished a contract – Jaskier being Jaskier all the while – with a sorceress who had, at the end, tried to ‘pay him’ by becoming ‘possessed by Fate’ with a capital ‘F’. Reminding him of his duty to his child, of course, how the fuck did everyone know about that. As if this girl, this princess, were his daughter. Geralt felt his jaw tighten again.

He blamed Jaskier. There was no doubt in his mind that the man had created some pub shanty about his child-surprise without him knowing about it and even he had the good sense not to sing it around Geralt.

Jaskier whistled. He was a bit noodlely at the moment. Knowing Geralt as well as he did, it was Jaskier who had insisted they take a load off and wind down at the tavern to celebrate a job well done, a heavier purse, and the fact that they were very much the masters of their own fates, thank you. It was the last bit in particular that got Geralt’s interest; not that he had ever been a man opposed to a good drink. Jaskier had merely made the point that ‘to drink would be to spit in “fate’s” face, after all – and it brings us no nearer your child surprise, right?’ and it was a done deal.

So they drank. They drank, and Jaskier had done his damnedest to keep up with Geralt out of what the witcher could only assume was some spirit of camaraderie. The idiot. So the bard was rather noodlely and loose. There had been a distinct moment when he had first stood to refresh their cups that Geralt had been certain the bard would collapse. But despite the tilt to his gait, Jaskier had managed – and was, in fact, still remarkably cognizant for a man Geralt had no plan of letting walk again for at least an hour or so.

Geralt himself had the beginning of a pleasant buzz beginning to burn throughout his body, numbing his ire toward fate and destiny and village folk who were constantly trying to rip him out of his money for doing jobs no sane man would do. Perhaps Jaskier had been right. He did need a night to drink, to spit in destiny’s face, and be neither father-to-be or witcher, but merely a man in a bar drinking with a friend.

He forced himself to loosen his jaw and Jaskier stopped his babbling from across the table with cheer and said, “That’a’boy, Geralt!”

They played Gwent; a game that Jaskier’s fingers struggled to keep up with but his mind, surprisingly, had no trouble with at all. Allowing Geralt to put his own mind into a pleasant round of distractions as he kept Jaskier’s frontline from utterly devastating his own with all manner of range and weather cards. When the time came, it was Geralt who refreshed their cups next (and had a private word with the bar keep to perhaps water Jaskier’s down just a little).

The evening went on like that – pleasant and mundane and mild – until suddenly it was anything but. Because Jaskier, the fucking bard that he was, just had to make things personal. And in Geralt’s experience, nothing good ever came from getting personal.

“Honestly, Geralt, I’m on your side with all this fate rubbish,” Jaskier finally said, evidently confident enough in the good turn of mood in the witcher to further discuss the topic. As though the matter were a wet sheet to be aired, dried, folded and finally dealt with. Geralt felt a twitch run through his jaw but the booze by and far helped stop him from setting his teeth to grinding again. He kept his gaze on his cards, hoping his focused expression might spare him from the conversation at hand as he slowly laid down his move and rumbled, “Funny. You seem too romantic to be on my side.”

Jaskier chuckled, hands fumbling clumsily through his own cards as he smiled and said, “Fair! Very fair. By all counts a master musician and storyteller like myself should be utterly enamored by fate—”

“—I don’t know if a man who wrote that ‘fishmonger’ nonsense can be considered a ‘master musician’,” Geralt hedged, hoping to distract the bard with his little jab, but Jaskier just merrily continued as though he hadn’t said a word - far too used to the witcher’s barbs to let it stop his rhythym. Damn.

“—but I’ve first-hand experience to tell me otherwise. Fate may be a romantic and beautiful storytelling device, no doubt, but every writer knows all too keenly that fantasies are just fantasies at the end of the day. After all, we wrote’em.”

Jaskier had a merry little blush about him; it peeked out from under his messy collar and kissed the tips of his ears, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. Geralt chalked it up to what he referred lazily to as ‘bard magic’ that the man managed to look attractive whilst drunk instead of like a slobbering fool – like most humans. It wouldn’t be the first time Geralt wondered if there were something more to the bard than meets the eye.

Jaskier’s fingers still fumbled like a drunken fool as he played his cards though, so Geralt shook it from his mind.

“First-hand experience?” Geralt snorted, shaking his head when the bard, despite his drunkenness, managed to pull out another great move in their Gwent game – not once thinking that perhaps he too was inebriated in the slightest. “What? Did the woman you deem yourself ‘fated’ to marry reject you?”

Geralt smirked a little at his own jest, pleased.

Jaskier let it roll over him with all the candor of a duck shaking water from its feathers, smooth and easy.

“Hardly,” Jaskier laughed, watching Geralt as the man refocused on the game. “Well, I mean, you’re not wrong – Lady Emily was meant to be mine, and the world is a poorer place for her having married that lout Bartolomeo rather than myself – but no. That wasn’t it. You see, I was told ‘fate’ would have a big role in my life as well, witcher. Practically from the day I was born. And it didn’t. So there – same side.”

Geralt raised his brows, eyes lifting from his cards to drift up to Jaskier’s face with surprise. That sounded like quite the story and yet the bard didn’t immediately launch into it. Strange.

“I think that’s the briefest story you’ve ever told. Are you ill?”

“Ah!” Jaskier exclaimed, pointing at him as though he had caught the witcher red-handed in some years long investigation, “I knew you liked my stories.”

Geralt snorted, played his hand, then leaned back to cross his arms over his chest and stare at the bard menacingly – which was evidently not menacing at all, because the bard just waved him off as his eyes fell to their game and said distractedly, “Honestly, there’s no real story to tell, Geralt, don’t give me that look. Nothing happened - that’s the point.”

Geralt felt his lips curl the littlest bit downward. Now he was truly beginning to worry the man had been possessed. He even began running through the possibilities of what specific spirit it could be.

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier blew out a breath that ruffled the fine curls of his bangs – if that was even what they were called, to be honest Geralt didn’t truly know – and rolled his eyes as though Geralt were the one prone to prying and not himself. Good, Geralt thought. Served him right to get a taste of his own medicine.

“It’s an old story, not even particularly special. It’s happened to others and it just so happened to my father. He was headed home from a gala of some sort – thankfully without my mother – and he and his carriage was attacked. Not even by anything particularly remarkable, by the by, that’s how droll this story is. He was traveling through the swamps that led to home, a wheel got stuck in the mud – drowners tried to off’em, you know the way it goes.”

Geralt felt the uncanny grip of something flipping his stomach upside down and chilling his skin as suddenly a memory slammed to the forefront of his mind, dragged up from the depths of decades, triggered by Jaskier’s words.

Geralt had been on his way back to the village to turn in a contract. He had been sore and tired, the worst of one of his potions slowly ebbing from him. His hair was a filthy, muddy, bloody thing and he looked rather like a monster himself. But the Water Hag was dead – a particularly old and particularly powerful hag at that – and the promise of a heavy purse was on the horizon. Coin and a bath and a bed. The thought alone quickened his steps for a moment.

But the swamp had been a muggy, dreadful thing. Geralt had resorted to leading Roach by her reins on foot rather than risk her ankles in the mud beneath his weight and that of his pack. He had been taking his time, grumbling now and then about the flies and the mosquitos that dogged him, the heat oppressive and thick.

He ultimately ended up leaving Roach behind when he heard a man scream up ahead. He slid through the mud in clumsy, fumbling strides only to find a carriage with its wheels stuck, plagued on all sides with drowners. They had taken the man’s horse out at the ankles and were dragging it through the mud. Geralt could still remember the panicked whites of its eyes and its shrill screaming – the sense of relief he felt knowing he had left Roach a safe distance behind. Somewhere out in the mud, he saw a gloved hand disappear beneath the mire – likely a travel guard. Dead now.

“Help! Oh, you there! Please don’t leave me!” A man had shouted from atop his cart, barely beyond the reach of webbed, grasping claws.

He shook himself. Tried to focus. Odd for the story to start out similarly, but like Jaskier said, the monsters were as common as the situation. Focus.

“Way he tells it, it’s quite a tale. It’s too bad you’re hearing it from me and not him. Man appeared out of nowhere and out of the goodness of his heart, he cut down all the drowners.”

It had been sloppy work, between the mud and the exhaustion. The swamp kept sucking his boots down into the muck, every move slow and squelching, but he managed. He took the head off two before they even noticed his presence – the beasts too lost to tunnel vision and bloodlust to manage much else – then cleaved the hand off another that reached too close to the man atop the carriage. That drew the beasts’ attention rather quickly.

The fight had left him even filthier. Slathered in guts and swamp gunk and reeds that peaked out of the edges and grooves of his armor in comical places. He leaned himself against the carriage, leaving a great messy smear behind him, and sucked in a breath. The horse was dead, the carriage a lost cause. But the man was alive. Hopefully that would be enough to spare him some random human’s moaning that he hadn’t arrived in time to spare the horse. But it wouldn’t be the first time it hadn’t been enough…

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” The man babbled urgently, scrabbling down from the top of his carriage to stand before the witcher. He was a bit of a rotund man – obviously well off – with dark mousey hair, and startlingly cornflower blue eyes. He wore rich fabrics done up in delicate, intricate threading and patterns. The knees of his trousers and ass had been muddied, his hands as well. But he looked rather cheerful for a royal of some sort who had recently taken a tumble through the mud. Most royalty always tended to be sour, even when their lives were saved. Geralt found himself off-balance.

“However can I thank you, Master…?” The man asked, letting the sentence drag pointedly.

“Witcher is fine,” Geralt said. People took none-too-kindly to his name these days. Witcher was safer; which in and of itself was a bit tragic.

“Master Witcher it is,” the man beamed, and for the life of him Geralt couldn’t fathom how a man managed to smile like that to a complete stranger. Smiling like they were longtime friends reunited after decades of getting old in separate lands, but never forgotten. This was usually the point in which people gave him a suspicious look and yet this man smiled.

“Father said the man wanted nothing. No price, no pay. Honestly, that’s why I think he’s lying. Even you witchers require pay when you help slay monsters. Who possibly would have stepped in on that situation and been willing to walk away after risking their lives for nothing?” Jaskier snorted. It was obvious that this story had once meant quite a deal to him at one point, and slowly – as the years passed – it had lost its glamor like petals falling from a flower one by one until nothing was left but a thin, weathered stalk. Geralt grunted and tried to banish that nagging memory from his mind, to focus on Jaskier’s story. He rested his wrists down against the table to steady the subtle shaking of his cards.

But more and more, his stomach dropped like a stone. Slipped beneath the surface of icy dread like that traveling guard’s hand had disappeared beneath the murk of the swamp.

“Honestly, don’t worry about it,” Geralt said. He was exhausted. The man surely had no coin on him of any import and Geralt had no interest in following the man home to then negotiate some fee as all men seemed inclined to do after the work was done and the threat gone. He wanted nothing more than to return to town, burrow into a bed at the tavern, and sleep off the rest of the potion still chewing at the edges of his system. He wanted to wrap up his current contract, not haggle another. He held a hand up to the man when he tried to pull the rings from his fingers and said, “Truly. It was only decent to stop and help. I didn’t even manage to spare your horse or guard—”

“Ah, Renfield—” the man said, suddenly sobering. A true sense of somber grief appeared to steal over the man, his eyes casting out to the spot in the swamp where he last saw him. “And to think I don’t even have a body to bring home to his wife…”

Geralt shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to go. He wanted to sleep.

“See? You owe me nothing,” Geralt offered softly.

“You still saved my life,” the man said, “That is not nothing.”

Geralt clenched his teeth and looked out over the wastes of the swamp. It was obvious the man would not relent. Furthermore, he couldn’t leave the man like this either – alone in the swamps among the carcasses of dead drowners. The witcher sighed, long and heavy through flared nostrils, and finally said, “Walk with me to town and I’ll surely think of something.”

“But father insisted on paying the man,” Jaskier said, a little grin slipping onto his face then as he proudly said, “We’re a bit of a stubborn lot, we of house de Lettenhove.”

Cornflower blue eyes drifted up to twinkle merrily at Geralt, surely expecting the witcher to sieze the opportunity to agree that, yes, Jaskier was nothing if not bullishly stubborn when he got something into his head. Something like following a witcher around and using those adventures as a muse, for instance.

Geralt was thanking his lucky star by the time they finally stumbled into the village where he needed to turn in his contract. The man – some Viscount from some place Geralt really had no intention of remembering – had managed to fill the silence Geralt so desperately wanted all the way from the moment they left the swamps to the second they stepped into the village. He spoke of why he was traveling with one guard - “Well my wife is pregnant, you see, and I was afraid to leave her alone in her state. She’s due any day now,” – and how they were expecting a wee lass and oh, how he’d tell her about the brave, muddied man who saved him.

Geralt barely stopped himself from burying his face into Roach’s neck when the man clapped him heartily on the back and exclaimed, “And now I owe you furthermore for escorting me to safety! Have you thought of a just reward?”

Geralt felt a groan lodge behind his teeth and just barely managed to smother it. The alderman’s home was right there. He was so close.

Geralt cleared his throat, but his voice still came out like a choked croak when he asked, “And your father wouldn’t take no for an answer, right?”

“Quite right, witcher-dear,” Jaskier said, finally playing his hand in their gwent game with a drunken flourish; but it felt a bit stale from some reason. In fact, everything about Jaskier felt stale the moment he started telling the story… “I think you’ll find this next bit the most interesting. It’s why I don’t think this child-surprise is anything worth worrying about – all just a load of rubbish.”

Geralt reached for his pint and took several deep pulls from the thing as though that might drown out what he knew was coming.

“He invoked the Law of Surprise,” Jaskier said coolly.

“I’ve thought of something,” Geralt said quickly. It was a foolish thing, more romantic than practical, but royals always seemed charmed by the idea. They sometimes asked for it themselves, often eager to pay slyly through a surprise shipment of silks or a newly whelped hound pup rather than true coin, all beneath the mask of ‘tradition’ rather than greed. Loathe as he was about the law, given it landed him in the School of the Wolf himself, he usually avoided it. But it had its uses - and the man was already expecting his daughter. Nothing ill should come of it. It should work mundanely, perfectly. “Law of Surprise. Are you familiar with it?”

The man’s eyes opened a little wider with childish wonder and he said, “Why, I thought that was just a myth about you witchers. Do you truly use the Law of Surprise as payment?”

“Aye, we do. That seems best, don’t you think? Given the circumstances? I’m afraid this is far as I can take you though… Send a messenger to your estate, have them send a true escort to see you safely home from here. And when you return, whatever you find that you did not expect – that will be my payment.”

“I’m afraid that even for royalty, we live a very plain and humble life. It might be a barrel of wine or a shipment of books—”

Perfect.

“—Quite alright, sir,” Geralt said soothingly, trying to make it sound as though the mystery and tradition were part of the value; anything to make the man agree and free himself to head to the inn as soon as possible. “Whatever you find will be mine, and one day I’ll return to collect.”

“Aye… Alright, witcher, you have yourself a deal!” The man said, beaming, as he shook Geralt’s hand without so much as an inch of hesitance about the grime and gunk dried onto Geralt’s hand. “I look forward to seeing you again and paying you properly, friend.”

Again Geralt was struck by the intimacy of the man, the sheer openness of him. He held no ill will for the witcher. Seemed intent on expressing his gratitude genuinely. If Geralt didn’t feel as though he were three steps away from a coma, he might have asked to journey home with the man himself. To get a good meal and a flea-less bed and a decent rest before heading out on the road again.

As it stood, he had no time, patience or energy for any of that. Instead he clapped the man at his bicep, squeezed, and agreed, “Until next time.”

He left the Viscount there to handle his own business with no intention of ever seeing him again. He had no need for books from royalty, more often than not focused on aesthetics than practicality. He had a horse, he had no need for a pup or silk or wine. And thankfully the man had told him more than once about the child his wife was about to birth. No surprises there. Nothing could go wrong, it was an easy out.

Geralt returned to the inn, collected his purse without having to haggle much for their priorly agreed upon sum after the fact – and as he bathed and ate and prepared to rest, he pat himself on the back for managing to slip away from the Viscount who wouldn’t shut up.

Geralt drank until his flagon ran dry, and felt it the moment everything he had chugged hit the bottom of his stomach sickly. He felt pale and clammy. Wide around the eyes and nearly removed from his own body. Jaskier was chuckling lightly, oblivious and self-depreciating with his humor as he said, “Man never returned to find out what he got. I suppose I wasn’t worth the journey back to get me. That’s ‘Fate’ for you. I grew up being told about how ‘Fate’ would bring this muddy stranger into my life. How he’d fetch me, how I’d be part of his life. My father got me tutors to prepare me for that sort of living, you know - adventuring. Medics and survivalists and all manner of men and women, all so I’d be ready for a life at some witcher’s side. I should have hated it… Should have hated the idea of being given away, of having no control in my life, but I was just so damned excited.“

Geralt’s eyes flicked up to catch the expression on the bard’s face - soft as he remembered the romantic fantasies of a child picturing a life of wild adventures at some hero’s side; eyes distant. Something twisted painfully in Geralt’s gut. It should have been a book or a pup or a bottle of wine. Not… this. It shouldn’t have hurt anyone. But the Law of Surprise rarely left his life unscathed. He should have known better. The Law of Surprise had made him a witcher. It had tied a young princess’ destiny to his own and now - Jaskier had been made victim of it to. The casualty? His childhood and the innocent belief children often had in stories. His sense of worth. Gods above, Geralt had been hurting Jaskier long enough before he ever said a cruel thing to his face.

He felt pale. Sickly. Thin and clammy and terrible.

“I kept waiting though. I wanted it to be true. I yearned for all the details my father never gave: what he looked like, how he acted. My father was so smitten, so blinded by his romanticism, he had barely anything left to describe him by beyond the fact that he was brave, valorous and muddy. But the witcher never came. So aye, Geralt, I’m with you. ‘Fate’ is all a load of horseshit and the only worth it has is to fill my pockets with gold when folk fall for my naive songs about it. Don’t worry. You won’t see that lass if you don’t go looking for her. I’m proof of that. You wouldn’t be the first witcher not to show up.”

But he would be. He was. He clung desperately to the knowledge that Viscount had been expecting a daughter. That he had been certain that by his wife’s slim frame, they weren’t having twins. But even as he tried to convince himself, he knew… Geralt’s eyes slowly drifted over the bard, wide like that dying horse’s eyes had been and just as cornered. He was gripping his cup so tightly it would’ve been shaking if it hadn’t been braced on the table. The witcher swallowed, throat dry despite the ale.

The man, that Viscount from the swamp… he had been expecting a daughter. Jaskier was definitely not a woman, he knew that firsthand. He covered his mouth with his hand to smother the sound that tried to escape him – strangled and out of control.

"Geralt?” Jaskier asked. There was a tightness about the bard’s eyes. Something worried for his friend, of course, but also something creeping, something suspicious. Geralt felt naked. “Are you alright? Do you… do you know this story? Do you know the witcher?”

Geralt swallowed.

Then he pulled his hand away and deflected, voice a rough croak from the ale and from guilt’s claws tearing his throat to ribbons, and said, “You’re lucky. When witchers come for their child-surprises and find them to be male, they take the Trial of the Grasses.”

Jaskier tilted his head at that - words that he was familiar with but Geralt knew the bard had never quite had the balls to ask. Now, well… Geralt couldn’t imagine refusing him answers now when he was too cowardly to tell the truth that actually mattered.

“As you did?” Jaskier asked. It was a surprisingly tame question, as though his story had drained some sparkle of life from him.

“Yes,” Geralt admitted, “As I did.”

“What was it like?”

Geralt ached to stand, to refill his cup and be done with this night. He clenched his jaw, all manner of relaxation gone, and said, “It burned everything away.”

His hope that his mother would return for him. His dreams of becoming a - he didn’t even remember anymore. It had dissolved everything from before the trials away to dust. By and far, he was born the day he survived it. Both harder and hollower for it. He was suddenly dizzy with the realization that because he had not known about Jaskier, he had not had to make the decision of what to do with him. Young boys were made into witchers, it was the way of things.

But would he have been able to do it, knowing how few survived? How much worse things got if they did.

“Then "Fate” is a ruse and I’m lucky for it,“ Jaskier said, raising his glass to Geralt. "No offense, of course.”

Geralt obligingly tapped his empty flagon against the bard’s, but set it aside to watch the man drink eagerly from his cup. He had never heard the bard sound so… hollow. As though beneath his songs and cheer laid a hole, covered by brush and leaves and full of jagged rocks at the bottom. That was his fault. When would he learn his lesson?

Jaskier finished his pint, stood suddenly as though invigorated, and exclaimed, “I think we are both in need of another refill!” Only to wobble rather perilously.

Geralt stood, his own hip connecting painfully with the table, but managed to steady the bard in time to stop him from toppling over. He grimaced at the sting in his hip, slight but annoying, then stilled when Jaskier practically melted into his hold like a maiden swooning. A thin arm wound around his neck, a whisker-less face pressed into the curve of his jaw, and Jaskier murmured, “On second thought,” a little weakly into his skin. His breath stank of booze. Geralt wrinkled his nose. He shouldn’t have let it go so far. Shouldn’t have done a lot of things.

“Bed,” the witcher rumbled, because he was afraid of saying anything else. Afraid of admitting anything else. Afraid of shattering the bard with the truth of it just as the bard had so easily, in one well swoop, shattered him. Fate was real. Between Jaskier and Yennefer and Ciri, there was nothing left in him but weak, exhausted acceptance. It was real and like a cat keen to curl in the lap of dog-lover, Fate followed him with spiteful compassion. Pulling more and more threads into his life until he was nothing but a puppet, tangled in strings.

He forced himself to focus on the mundane. The task was arduous - what with Jaskier barely awake and more wet noodle than man - but he managed to get them both upstairs to their room. The witcher took his time. Took the time he hadn’t given the bard, but had owed him for so very long. Gods above, it explained so much. How, despite his best efforts, the bard always found a way back to him - smiling and singing. Like sunlight, he always came back. Explained why Geralt didn't try very hard to leave him either. How many times could he have galloped away? Left while the man slept? He should have. For the bard’s own safety, he should have, but he never did. He hit him and he sneered and growled; all manner of things to at least drive a sane man away. But Jaskier stayed, fiercely compassionate and loyal, like his namesake. Steadfast and always blooming. Scatter him to the wind and he just came back more stubborn than before.

He disrobed him kindly, wary to jostle the bard too much as queasiness began to set in. He brushed the man’s hair back from his sweaty brow, hummed gently when his eyes tried to flicker open or when he tried to babble some drunken nonsense. Jaskier whined and moaned and, as expected, reacted to his own drunken state rather dramatically. But Geralt steadily learned what soothed him. Hands in his hair, at his cheek. Soft words, solid and firm like the bedrock of a home. Geralt got him into night clothes, settled him down into the bed. He brought a glass of water to the night stand, then wet a rag to set over the bard’s eyes. He was just about to take the chair - guilt gnawing too powerfully at his guts for him to share the bed with his abandoned bard - when Jaskier asked with surprising clarity, “Why didn’t he come, Geralt?”

Geralt looked at him. He wasn’t wholly there, not truly. Jaskier wouldn’t remember come morning, he could tell. This was merely the detail his drunken mind had fastened on. So, like a coward, Geralt answered, “Because witchers are fools,” knowing the bard couldn’t actually hear him. It was as close to sorry as he knew how to say. And it would never be enough.

That night, he stayed awake. He sobered quickly, watching the bard as he slept. Hindsight was a peculiar thing and now, thinking back, he could see so much of his life that he had been blind to before. Epiphanies that begged questions. Did he tolerate Jaskier because it was Fate? Was nothing in his life in his control? What was Fate and what was the purpose or significance of 'will’ if Fate existed? Would he have gone to Jaskier, had he known about his child surprise? Did knowing Jaskier’s true role in his life now change anything with Ciri? Was he only worth loving if someone was forced to love him, bound by fate?

If anything, it proved only the futility of it all. In avoiding fate, he had only hurt himself, hurt others. What would happen if he embraced it? At the very least, even if it became no less painful, at least he wouldn’t be exhausting himself trying to outrun it anymore. That thought wouldn’t have driven him to the road out of sheer spite, once. He should leave. He should spit in Fate’s face, howl into the winds, claim his life as his own. But when had he ever truly conquered Fate? And looking back… were the things Fate had brought into his life truly so bad?

He was tired. Tired of running. Tired of questioning everything. Tired like a dog that had pulling at its lead too long, too hard, wheezing and choking itself. He fell slack in the chair, every muscle letting go all at once, and realized - he wasn’t going to run. He had nothing left to give that life. No more energy with which to run and snarl and evade.

“You fucking win,” he growled, grumpy and bristling; and yet oddly relieved.

It was circular. Thoughts tumbling one after another, around and around, and Jaskier was the eye of the hurricane – calm and sleeping in the bed as Geralt watched on.

He watched the sun rise. Watched the way the warm light of day slowly painted Jaskier’s face in creamy golds and sleepy pinks and oranges. He should close the curtains, yet he couldn’t pry his eyes away… He did eventually, when Jaskier began to stir. He closed the curtains, slipped down silently to the kitchens, and gave into fate. He ordered a platter of biscuits and sweet jams to help absorb the worst of the alcohol, then breakfast meats and fruits for once Jaskier’s stomach settled. He fetched a pitcher of water, pulled a tonic from his pack to help with the inevitable pain, and then returned to the room and waited.

Jaskier stirred, as he did in all things, theatrically and lively. He moaned, curled tighter into the sheets, and pressed back oddly - searching for Geralt, he realized with a feeling of being struck. When he found no hard heat at his back, no arms to hold him, the bard’s nose crinkled and he peaked open one eye only to whisper a vicious curse. Geralt felt both fondness and dread build in his gut, uncomfortable. He never used to have to deal with emotions like this. Yet he did not entirely wish it away.

“Ger'lt,” Jaskier moaned when finally he opened his eyes long enough to catch sight of him, “I’ve been pois'ned.”

Geralt let out a soft huff of a breath, pried himself from his chair, and grabbed the tonic from the bedside to hand to Jaskier with a soft, “Drink.”

“Never drink ag'in,” Jaskier moaned, but eventually obliged with a curled lip when Geralt merely repeated the command more firmly. Geralt forced himself not to laugh when the bard let out a shiver like a cat that accidentally stepped in something wet. “Gods above, Geralt, that’s torture in a bottle!”

Well, he was cognizant again. At least there was that.

“Yeah, sorry,” Geralt said, pulling the tray over to place in Jaskier’s lap, “Eat. It’ll help.”

Jaskier stilled halfway into reaching for a pastry on instinct, his gaze turning suspicious as he gave Geralt a rumpled stink eye - a look ruined by the messy nest of hair sticking every which way from his head and the crease the pillow had left on his cheek. Soft, so soft - yet he travelled willingly with a witcher.

“Why are you being so nice?” Jaskier asked, “Who are you and what have you done with Geralt?”

“I’m that bad, huh?” Geralt mused, a little sting of guilt buried beneath his amused look.

“Bad? No. More… distantly aloof,” Jaskier said. It appeared as though he had dubbed the food safe enough to eat though - or at the very least the need to steady his stomach outweighed the oddness of the situation - because he grabbed a pastry and with one wary look at the jam, decided to eat it plain.

“Hmm.”

“Precisely,” Jaskier said pointedly, then after a bite or two he tilted his head a bit, taking Geralt in, and asked, “Are you feeling alright, Geralt? All jests aside, you are… I can’t put my finger on it, but you’re worrying me. You’re more stoic and yet not stoic than usual. Did something happen last night? I’m afraid it’s all a bit embarrassingly fuzzy.”

This was it. His last chance to back out. Something prickled at the back of his neck, something like awareness. Not so much something forcing him forward, or some unintended momentum - merely some instinctual understanding that the time was right, regardless of the outcome. So he sat down on the side of the bed, braced his elbows on his knees, and fastened his eyes to the wall as he forced himself to try something new. He didn’t run.

“You told me a story.”

Jaskier snorted and said, “I tell a lot of stories.”

“Aye, you do,” Geralt agreed, scratching at his stubble. “Thought I’d return the favor, for once.”

“Oh?” Jaskier said. There was moment behind him, no doubt Jaskier settling himself up against the headboard so he might properly listen. Without looking, Geralt could tell the man’s eyes were likely twinkling. Excited, eager for Geralt’s next story - no doubt already thinking of how he’d craft it into song. Geralt braced himself. His pause seemed to still Jaskier somewhat. Dampen him. That concern was back.

“Geralt?” Jaskier began, and Geralt took that as his cue: now or never.

“Once, a long time ago, I saved a man in a swamp. Drowners, a lot of them. They’d dragged the guy’s horse into the mire. Drowned his guard. His carriage was stuck, and he was surrounded, caught atop it.”

Jaskier hadn’t caught on yet. He could feel the bard’s eyes on him, waiting for the story to pick up, eager for the juicy part. The climax, he called it.

“I had just finished a contract. I was covered in death, you’ve seen it before. Unrecognizable. I stopped, I helped as best I could. It was simple - would have been simpler if not for the contract I had just finished. I wanted nothing more to claim my prize for the hag and sleep, but the man insisted on rewarding me.”

Behind him, Jaskier stilled. Geralt heard the faintest inhale of breath, how it caught and held in Jaskier’s chest. He closed his eyes and forced himself on.

“Bastard talked the whole way to the village. Non-stop. About his wife. His child-to-be: a daughter. How I was a good man, how he needed to find a way to repay me. I didn’t want to haggle and I didn’t want to deal with whatever process it would take to fetch his funds. I just wanted to sleep. He wouldn’t let it drop, so I invoked the Law of Surprise to get him off my back. I thought it harmless. Wine or a book. Maybe a pup if I was unlucky. He knew his wife was with child, after all. Knew the kid was coming. So it wouldn’t be…” His voice cut out with a dry little click. He cleared his throat and said, “I bid him farewell, never looked back. Never found out what surprised him when he got home.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said - whisper soft and pained, tight like he had been stabbed. Geralt forced himself onward. Maybe this was how he’d evade Fate after all. There was no way Jaskier would want to stay now that he knew.

“Never came up again… until last night,” Geralt finished, hanging his head now, still unable to look. “He told me he was having a daughter, Jaskier.”

He waited. Waited for Jaskier to slip from the bed, dress, and leave. Seconds hung like hours, weighing on him as heavily as the weight of the years he had left Jaskier to wonder why no one ever came for him.

“They were going to name me Juliana, after my mother’s mother,” Jaskier said. There was a quietness to his voice, a stillness, that was utterly unlike Jaskier. Not broken so much as tempered like a fine blade - and Geralt waited for it to strike him down and sever the threads that wound them together. “You didn’t know… He posted about it on the notice boards for miles.”

“I went south after that. Didn’t return for years. Just… happened that way.”

“You didn’t know,” Jaskier repeated.

“No.”

“It was you,” he said, just as clinically - as though he were reciting from a book rather than truly understanding the words, their meaning. “All this time, it was you.”

“Yes,” Geralt breathed. Waited.

“I found you," and finally he was back. Jaskier. His words, each pregnant with years of stories and yearnings and waiting that Geralt hadn’t been there for, said in a hush through shocked lips. Geralt turned, braced himself for a look of contorted hatred, only to grunt when the man launched himself into his chest. The platter clanged loudly when it hit the floor - pastries and fruit and meat tumbling in all directions. Geralt went still and taut, unable to follow what was happening, off-balance. Shoulders high around his neck, back a rigid line. Jaskier was bent in an odd position, but that didn’t stop him from pressing his face into Geralt’s neck, fingers winding into fine white hair. "You’re real.”

It was so similar to how he had drunkenly pressed himself into the witcher, yet now it was real. Jaskier wasn’t drunk. He was present. Willful. Hugging him despite the gravity of Geralt’s admission. The witcher’s brows drew together, confused. Yet even as apprehension stalled his heart and tensed his limbs, the longer the bard pressed into him, threaded his fingers in his hair, the more something in his chest settled. Like it had been floating all this time, and had finally found an anchor.

“Jaskier, I…”

“I had hoped it was you.”

Geralt let out a breath as though it had been punched out of him and couldn’t quite figure out how to inhale again. He thought of the man’s father - always smiling, so much quicker to offer a positive word than a curse. Open, instantaneously loving. He was holding that man’s son. A soul promised to him, tied to his fate.

“Jaskier.”

He grimaced. Why couldn’t he find the words, any words, for this man who had waited for him for so long? His lip curled, furious and sick of himself.

“I saw you that day in the tavern, sitting alone at the table, and I couldn’t look away. I knew that look. I’d had it myself before - wariness of people. You had your stones and I had my fruit, and we were just two kindred spirits no one wanted around, and I hoped… when I saw your eyes, I hoped I wasn’t just reading into it. That maybe, just maybe, I had found you.”

Jaskier pulled back, cornflower eyes misty and wet. His cheeks were smudged pink in odd places. Puffy with drink and grief - or was it something else. Something unidentifiable.

“Then the mountain. And Yen, and Ciri. You hated Fate so much, I knew it couldn’t be. And gods above, it was easy to hate Fate with you.”

All this time, Jaskier had known. Somewhere in the fiber of his being, Fate had tied a thread around his heart and willingly Jaskier had followed the call - followed and traveled and suffered scorn and horror - just to wait, and wait, and wait. Nearly three decades of waiting.

“And I was okay with that,” Jaskier said with a sniff, nodding, “Because Fate wasn’t real, and at least - if nothing else - it had trained me to survive long enough to do what I wanted to do. To travel with you. I figured that was fortuitous, right? Maybe I was making Fate happen for myself.”

Then his voice cracked again and that voice - so bold, so full of life - broke and whispered, “But still… I hoped one day you’d look at me and realize I was always yours. But then the mountain, and I-”

Geralt cut him off. With one large hand, he cradled the back of Jaskier’s neck and brought him close again. He wound his arms a little tighter when he felt the man shiver against him, sucking in quiet sounds that might have been dry sobs. Wheezing, heaving little catches of breath, buried in his shoulder. Jaskier grabbed at his back, wound his fingers into the loose fabric of his dark shirt and clung.

“Witchers are fools,” he finally said, as close as he could get to sorry. Jaskier let out a wet, messy laugh into the skin of his shoulder and collarbone, and said, “So I’ve heard.”

Geralt blew out a breath.

“What now, Geralt?” Jaskier whispered, too afraid to speak the words into existence, to tempt Fate: will you stay?

Geralt hummed, felt the force of it in Jaskier’s bird bones, and said, “We go get Ciri. Together.”

He felt Jaskier smile into his skin. Felt him clutch his shirt tighter, sink into the circle of his arms as closely as he could. Together. Fate did not seem so daunting now that he could add 'together’ to the end of the line. 'Together’ wasn’t a death sentence, it wasn’t a period at the end of the story.

It was the beginning. Finally.

Together.

#the witcher #gaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #law of surprise #fic prompt fill #drunken confessions #hurt/comfort (emotional)#fate #i stg i meant this to be half as long #I ALSO WILL WRITE SOMETHING SAD EVENTUALLY #one day #they are just soft babes i can't help it #had a headache at the end #so sorry if it stops making sense #yay trash

403 notes · View notes

iamartemisday · 5 years

Text

Lokane Week- Predestination

There were two men at the front entrance. Guns on their belt would not be quite as frightening to an intruder as their massive frames and intimidating countenances. One of them was a head higher than Thor, an impressive feat in and of itself.

‘Don’t think about Thor,’ he told himself again. ‘He will not come here. There’s no way for him to travel so far in such a short amount of time.’

Unless he or the Warriors Three figured out how to drive a car. Loki had watched Jane maneuver her vehicle several times and was confident he could do it himself with ease if he tried.

And was the distance really so great that ten to twelve hours wasn’t enough time?

With more pressing matters at hand, Loki banished all ideas of Thor disrupting their mission and exposing him to the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind.

Jane had ducked behind a rock, the only one of its size for miles and mediocre cover if the enemy spotted them. For the first time, Loki noted her clothing. Jeans and plaid as was her preferred wardrobe. Nothing resembling a weapon to be found. There wasn’t even a pencil in her pocket.

“It’d be nice if we could sneak past the guards,” she said, seemingly to herself.

“If they are intelligent, they will have all potential entrances guarded,” said Loki.

“I’d love to not give them any credit at all, but…”

Folding her arms, Jane slid halfway to the ground against the boulder. Whatever grand plans she’d had for breaking into the secure base seemed to be falling at her feet. While she pondered, Loki appraised the situation.

In addition to the guards, there were mounted lights on every corner. Motion detecting firearms were on standby, though not currently aimed in their direction. A man perched on the watchtower sharpened a bow of all things and cast his eagle eye across the sand dunes. Loki made himself invisible to all but Jane. The archer’s eye passed over him, though for a moment, Loki thought he paused.

“Do you regret coming with me yet?”

Jane hadn’t moved in a while, and he hadn’t expected her to speak so soon.

“I never would,” Loki said.

Jane gave a half-smile. “Yeah, but this is pretty far out from working as an analyst.”

Loki tried to swallow. His throat was dry. “I suppose so.”

Her eyes lingered on him, though he hoped the base was more interesting. If she had another question or comment to make, she kept it to herself.

“What if I just walk over and demand to see the man in charge?” she snorted.

“We could always enter by force,” Loki said. “Your truck can surely withstand a few bullets.”

“I should’ve brought my homemade missile launcher.”

Their laughter died out fast. Neither of them was in the mood for jokes. Down in one of the black vans, a man rushed out with a phone in his ear. He said something to the guards as he hurried along. The larger man stepped away from his partner out of sight.

Even with just one man on duty, their situation was grave. It didn’t have to be, though. Loki could be in and out before the Midgardians knew anyone was there. If Mjolnir accepted him (a voice in his head he didn’t care to address sneered at the very idea), all he had to worry about was telling Jane the truth.

And so, he had everything to worry about.

‘Why am I here?’ he asked himself, as he should’ve so long ago when Thor landed on this rock. ‘What has this gained me? She’s just one woman.’

‘Is she?’ that same voice replied.

Loki looked at her. He didn’t want to, but he had to. There was something so beautiful about her. Not just her mind, as he once thought. It was everything about her. Her face, her mind, her perchance for eating too many kettle chips before dinner. One could mistake her for the Asgardian visitor. She had a magic all her own.

“Whatever happens,” she said, squaring her shoulders for action, “if we go down there and get caught or stay up here all night, I’m glad I got to meet you, Luke.”

Loki’s eye twitched. He never realized how much he hated that name. “Yes. So am I.”

She was terrible for him. For his emotional state, self-control, and awareness of his surroundings. The single presence behind them turned to three as they drew closer. Their steps were firm and heavy. Two of them carried weapons. Jane still hadn’t noticed them, all her focus going to the base down below. She yelped when Loki pulled her back. His larger frame shielded her as he turned to face the newcomers.

Only one was familiar. The man who had tried to relieve Jane of her life’s work. He didn’t have the sunglasses today, which was strange. The sky was blue and cloudless, the sun merciless. His men couldn’t possibly be comfortable in those three-piece suits.

Phil Coulson raised a hand, and they stopped. He smiled at Loki like a man concealing a knife.

“Good morning,” he said. “Anything we can help you fine folks with?”

“Hell yeah, you can help us,” Jane marched up to Coulson, unconcerned with the armed men not two feet away. “You can tell us who you think you are running around with your badges and fancy cars and think you have a right to take everything I’ve been working toward my whole life!”

“Jane,” Loki tried to reach for her, but she wouldn’t respond.

“Dr. Foster, as I’ve already told you, this matter is top secret and unrelated to your research.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t have come banging on my door if this wasn’t related.”

“And we were generous enough to leave you to your work. If you continue to interfere, I could take that generosity back.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I'd consider it more of a warning.”

“You have no right-”

“Jane, enough.” Loki eyed the man on the right. He was the largest of the three men, obstinately the strongest, and as the argument intensified, his hand slid closer to his holstered pistol. “There’s nothing more we can do. Let’s go.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jane shouted. “I’m not going anywhere. Not when we’ve come this far.”

“Doctor, for your own safety, I’d advise you to listen to your friend.”

“No one asked you!”

She pulled at Loki’s hand. He held on tight enough not to hurt her and started to pull her back. Jane made one last attempt, all her strength going into a single wrench. The recoil sent her free arm flying, nearly smacking Coulson in the face.

“Hey!” The larger man grabbed his gun.

Loki charged. A blast of magic sent the man flying. He hit the ground some fifty feet away, moaning in agony. All things considered, Loki had been gentle. Not even a fraction of the power his rage demanded had gone into that attack.

Many years later, he’d commend SHIELD for their instantaneous, coordinated response. Within seconds, the man’s partner drew his weapon. Coulson pulled a gun seemingly out of the air. Down below, twenty more men raced onto the scene, alarms blaring at their backs, summoning all troops to the front line. Even the archer had an arrow ready to fire.

Loki held Jane to his chest, staring down the enemy like this was any other battle. Like an innocent life wasn’t at risk if one person made the wrong move.

Of course, it was Jane who summed it all up perfectly. “What the fuck?”

Coulson took a step. “Sir, please stand down.”

A chuckle. “Stand down? I’m not the one aiming to kill.”

“Nobody wants to hurt you or Dr. Foster.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Why don’t we talk about this more inside?” Coulson nodded at the men behind them, who broke formation to give them a path to the base. “I think that’ll be better for everyone.”

“Better for you,” Loki growled. “Agent Coulson, rest assured there is not a cell on this planet which can contain me. I would advise you to consider your next move carefully.”

His magic flared. The agents tensed but didn’t fire. That was good for them. If they had, it would not have been Loki who fell.

“You’re not in a position to give threats,” Coulson said, glancing at the green fire in Loki’s hand with only a hint of discomfort. “Or are you?”

One plus to this situation, his concentration was back at full capacity. He heard the sputtering engine long before Coulson’s most cognizant agents lifted their heads to listen. A truck tore down the road, approaching at well over a hundred miles an hour. The deafening horn tore through the tension, a boisterous laugh following each blast.

‘Wonderful,’ Loki thought. ‘Just wonderful.’

The agents were now torn. Half turned their attention to the truck while the rest stayed in place. Coulson was among the latter, his eyes never leaving Loki’s.

“Friends of yours?”

Loki clicked his tongue. “In a manner of speaking.”

The truck stopped hard enough to almost tip over. Tires screeched. A sword-wielding arm stuck out the window. The driver’s seat door flew open as a haggard man in white scrubs stumbled out.

“Loki!” Thor bellowed. Sif was already at his side, glaring Loki down.

“Hello brother,” he said, his chest aching in the worst way at Jane’s strangled gasp. “I’m happy to see you again.”

It was always meant to be, he supposed. From the very beginning, he would face his brother on opposing sides. Whatever the occurrence on Jotunheim meant, the distance between them had grown over centuries. It wasn’t a truth Loki admitted easily. Indeed, his heart hurt. In so many ways, it hurt. Never had deception felt so empty.

If nothing else, Thor had learned civility. When the agents formed a barrier between him and Loki, Thor demanded they let him pass rather than tossing them aside without a thought. As the Warriors Three gathered, proving to be by far the clearer threat, Coulson was forced to enter the fray. His men stayed behind, keeping Loki always in their sights. Dozens of eyes on him, scrutinizing, challenging, waiting for a reason to fire, and yet all of them paled in comparison to Jane’s searching gaze.

“Luke,” she said. There was no anger like he feared, only wonder. No betrayal, just boundless curiosity. “No… Loki.”

He somehow managed to smile. “I’m afraid I haven’t been honest with you.”

The ever-changing myriad of emotion spreading across her face gave way to a tiny laugh, then a full grin. “You know what? I think I knew.”

She buried her face in his shirt, hugging him with all she had. Their captors waited and watched. Thor peered over Coulson’s head, studying the pair as if deciding whether Jane was a pawn in Loki’s mechanisms or another threat. Loki tightened his hold on her, no longer fighting the overwhelming urge to touch her. After today, he never would again.

“What’s down in that base,” he whispered in Jane’s ear, “is nowhere near as amazing as what’s up there.”

The sky opened far over their heads, offering so much promise. Jane raised her head to it, but stared straight at Loki.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, with the conviction of someone who had thrown all caution to the wind. “Let’s do it.”

“Are you sure?”

It wasn’t a question he needed to ask. Everything he needed was right in front of him.

He allowed himself a moment to give in to desire, pressing his lips to Jane’s and savoring her sweet taste. Her hands on his face were soft and warm, and so perfect.

Loki and Jane did not see the SHIELD agents whispering among themselves. They didn’t hear one men wolf whistle and another one shush him. They didn’t see Thor’s bemused reaction to the display, or Coulson’s jaw hanging open as he failed to think of something to say.

When Loki disappeared with Jane, he didn’t feel the bullets several men impulsively fired where he and Jane once stood. He didn’t hear Thor scream his name to the heavens.

Even if they heard or saw any of that, it wouldn’t matter. Because none of it could stop them. Nothing at all could stop them.

Not even gravity.

#Lokane Week #Lokane #Lokane Week 19 #Jane Foster #Loki

19 notes · View notes

batterymonster2021 · 5 years

Text

How 3 legal experts interpret the Mueller report

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/how-3-legal-experts-interpret-the-mueller-report/

How 3 legal experts interpret the Mueller report

JUDY WOODRUFF: Twenty-two months, 2,800 subpoenas, and some 500 witnesses later, Robert Mueller’s vast file goes over now not just his investigation’s findings, but in addition how he believed U.S. Criminal legislation utilized to the info. Three authorized professionals are right here to wade into all of this. They’re George Terwilliger. He was deputy legal professional basic throughout William Barr’s previous stint atop the Justice division in the George H.W. Bush administration. Bob Bauer was White condominium assistance underneath President Obama. He used to be an external information to Senate Democrats during the Senate’s trial of former President Clinton. And Mary McCord served as performing head of the Justice division’s countrywide protection Division. She is mentioned within the record, having been a part of the team that went to the White residence to voice initial warnings about Michael Flynn. She is now a litigator at Georgetown college.And we are saying hi there and welcome back to "NewsHour" for all of you. Thank you for being here on this main day. I will begin with you, George Terwilliger. What do you are making of the discovering through the specified information that there was no conspiracy, no collusion, no cooperation between the Trump campaign and the Russian executive, Russian officials, when there were so many attempts via the Russians to arrive into that election? GEORGE TERWILLIGER, Former U.S. Deputy legal professional normal: good, I rather draw two conclusions as a citizen from that, Judy. The first is that i am glad the truth that the Russians were seeking to intrude in our elections through a huge style of method is getting uncovered, considering the fact that I consider in order to support us construct what i’m hoping might be bipartisan political help to combat that someday. Most likely, we do not want foreign governments messing with our elections.The 2d is that the politics of all of this and of the allegations of conclusion — i am sorry — of collusion relatively had been a millstone across the neck of this presidency. Leave the president in my view aside, out of it for a 2nd. However, simply objectively, it has hindered the presidency and the execution of one of the policies and initiatives of the presidency. And i am pleased to peer that lifted. Let’s — you know, we will be able to have plenty of powerful political debate on important problems.I am hoping we are able to now put this aside. JUDY WOODRUFF: however you are accepting the findings of the certain counsel, headquartered on what you see here? GEORGE TERWILLIGER: yes, even though i’m troubled, in a way, that that is the best way we bought the answer to this, for the reason that a criminal investigation shouldn’t be always the excellent car to make determinations a couple of broad range of data. Recall, this started out as a counterintelligence investigation, which is what it should have been. JUDY WOODRUFF: correct. Bob Bauer, what about you? How do you learn what the distinctive information came up with, looking at attempts by means of the Russians to have an impact on the election, and discovering there was once no criminal conspiracy or cooperation between the Trump campaign and Russia? BOB BAUER, Former White house assistance: Like any other prosecutor, he needed to make some problematic selections.For instance, the crusade welcomed a delegation from the Kremlin delivering filth on Hillary Clinton, hosted them in their offices in the big apple, and had been eager to be given the support of a overseas countrywide, the Russian executive and their marketers. And the designated counsel looked at that and concluded that there were effectively constitutional and other statutory impediments to bringing, say, a crook prosecution underneath the federal campaign finance laws. What that episode, nevertheless, displays and what that relaxation of the part within the report indicates is that there were not simplest multiple efforts on the part of Russia to influence the election, but they understood very speedily that the Trump crusade and the president had been open to these presents of aid. And i feel that is terribly troubling. Even taking into consideration what George has said, we don’t want international nationals to intervene in our elections, we don’t need American presidential campaigns, a lot much less folks who will become president, encouraging them to intrude in our elections. JUDY WOODRUFF: opt for up on that, Mary McCord, the authorized underpinning that Robert Mueller finally ends up utilising to conclude there used to be no conspiracy, no unlawful cooperation. MARY MCCORD, Georgetown institution regulation middle: right.Well, it’s a excessive bar. To cost a crime, you need to show — above all the crime of conspiracy, you must exhibit an agreement, tacit or explicit, to commit a criminal offense. And so one factor to believe about when you suppose about both the interference with the election part of this report, as good because the obstruction part, is that, in reaching these conclusions about crimes, that is the regular that Mueller was applying. And, of path, he failed to reach a conclusion when it got here to obstruction. JUDY WOODRUFF: right. MARY MCCORD: And so there is quite a lot of daylight between there is nothing to look right here, there is nothing improper, and there is enough evidence to support charging a criminal offense. JUDY WOODRUFF: however, once more, reading — for all three of you, studying via this record at present, do you get the — I imply, do you come away pondering, all correct, they did the whole thing they might, and i am satisfied there was once no collusion, there was no conspiracy? MARY MCCORD: I believe it would be hard to learn this document and are available away with out feeling that there was an notable amount of curiosity and encouragement through persons related to the crusade in Russia continuing its election interference efforts.GEORGE TERWILLIGER: you understand, Judy, I believe Mary makes a excellent factor that the bar to get over in a crook investigation could be very excessive. That’s probably the most reasons we do not customarily have prosecutors writing experiences, on the grounds that how proof is viewed — and we’ll hear it in Washington for the next few weeks — how the proof that is said is viewed is going to be seen in political phrases, and it will be used for political functions. I mean, one would argue that the greatest instance of collusion we noticed used to be the Clinton campaign’s involvement with the file, which was supposedly grime on Trump. I consider the backside-line conclusion that we as residents have got to be drawing right here is that we’d like vigilance inside campaigns. Bob’s point is well taken about that. However we want even larger vigilance when we have now international governments trying to intrude in our elections. JUDY WOODRUFF: So, the rationale i am just pushing this a little bit extra is that some individuals say, what in regards to the Trump Tower meeting? That certain didn’t seem like whatever that may traditionally happen in a campaign.But you’re saying nothing illegal occurred. Bob? BOB BAUER: that’s never been my view. I’ve constantly idea that there used to be a transparent-cut crusade finance violation associated with the Trump Tower hobbies. JUDY WOODRUFF: crusade finance violation. BOB BAUER: correct. JUDY WOODRUFF: right. BOB BAUER: In that a crusade is obviously barred from accepting any support or soliciting support, any , from a overseas national, or substantially aiding a foreign country wide in influencing a federal election. Because it turns out, I believe the designated information took a conservative view. We will debate whether or not or not he and his staff must have finished so. But I feel it’s open to question. And that i definitely query that conclusion, however i do not query the nice-religion evaluation in the back of it. JUDY WOODRUFF: All correct. GEORGE TERWILLIGER: So, what that boils all the way down to, Judy, in lots of respects, in lots of facets of this file, attorneys disagree. Now, there is information, correct? JUDY WOODRUFF: Let’s flip now to the obstruction piece of this and whether or not the president committed obstruction of justice. Mary, you introduced it up. It’s a excessive bar. And, eventually, Robert Mueller determined he could no longer make a conclusion a technique or an extra.He didn’t exonerate… MARY MCCORD: i do not suppose that’s what he decided at all. I consider he said, headquartered on OLC steering, that he, as an employee… JUDY WOODRUFF: that is the administrative center of legal suggestions within department of Justice. MARY MCCORD: that’s correct. JUDY WOODRUFF: yes. MARY MCCORD: And the truth that, he, as targeted counsel, was an worker of the division of Justice, he is bound via the guidance. And that steering says you can not indict a sitting president. And situated on that and his possess cognizance of the causes at the back of that, the bias of indicting a sitting president, when there’s now not going to be any — or no longer indicting, however announcing that a sitting president has committed against the law, when there’s now not going to be an possibility for a trial or to air out the opposite aspects of that or a neutral adjudicator, that he was simply not going to arrive that conclusion. JUDY WOODRUFF: So, you’re now not reading that as something that he couldn’t. You’re pronouncing his hands were tied legally, or in view that of the division directions? MARY MCCORD: I consider that is right, sure.GEORGE TERWILLIGER: i don’t consider fingers had been tied is a reasonable conclusion, centered on what’s in the document. I believe there have been a quantity of motives that went into it. And one of the things that he mentions that I feel could be very major, Judy, is that, when you consider that there was once no crime of collusion — and that is the — what he was allegedly obstructing, used to be that investigation — you then look on the evidence of what the president did in another gentle. And i’m now not the president’s legal professional.I do not need the president’s legal professional, however i will inform you that, in my experience with public officials, with excessive-ranking public officials, the truth that the president would rant at aides and say, can not we do that, can not we do this, when he’s incensed by using the fact that he believes this is a phony investigation, you have to look at that in judging what his intent will have to be and in exercising your discretion as to whether or no longer that’s a prosecutable case.It’s now not simplest, can we? It is, must we? JUDY WOODRUFF: Bob Bauer? BOB BAUER: On the query on intent, i don’t feel there is any doubt about his factors. On June 14, 2017… JUDY WOODRUFF: On the president’s motives? BOB BAUER: On the president’s motives. On June 14, 2017, the president discovered that an obstruction phase of the investigation had commenced. Inside days, he used to be pressing his White house tips to arrange with DOJ to have Bob Mueller fired. So, it appears to be particularly clear that as quickly as he got here within the zone of abilities liability, he acted to try to discontinue the investigation. He put pressure on the White condominium advice. He put pressure on the attorney general.And i’m just, by the way, scratching the surface of one of the disclosures within the file. GEORGE TERWILLIGER: however the further evaluation of that, I feel, requires — let me accept what Bob says as a reasonable inference from the tips. You still have to look at the question of what the actual intent was there. Used to be the president pushed by using, i want this investigation stopped when you consider that he had a corrupt intent to discontinue an investigation, or used to be he politically pronouncing, i’m now not going to have this millstone around my neck and i need to give you the option to reduce it off? JUDY WOODRUFF: Mary, how do you read that part? MARY MCCORD: good, once more, I think this is one more example the place Mueller made clear he was once not exonerating the president. He lays out in nice detail, which i have not even had the possibility to learn but, all the data that he is amassed with appreciate to those eleven different scenarios that would be, any person of them, a foundation for an obstruction charge.But I believe what’s predominant is that the legislation, in the case of obstruction, is narrowly interpreted, according to the Supreme court docket. And, again, there’s a lot of daylight hours between nothing wrong here and enough to cost a crime and even make an allegation of a criminal offense. And that i feel that it’s major that men and women read at the least the manager summary, the entire American folks, after which they may be able to make judgments. I suppose a layperson studying this could say there is obstruction of justice right here. JUDY WOODRUFF: there is a lot to read. BOB BAUER: i might additionally add, let’s not confuse the varieties of beliefs the president will have had. He can have had a belief that the allegations of collusion have been unfair, and accordingly he was once angry about that segment of the investigation.But he was inspired in the obstruction phase of the investigation through the private risk to him. And he had a belief that it was once a risk. He expressed that to his friends. And he tried to curb, if not end the investigation. JUDY WOODRUFF: A chance to his presidency? BOB BAUER: To his presidency and, frankly, to his own personal welfare. GEORGE TERWILLIGER: but when that have been — if that had been the only approved view off of those data — and, once more, I furnish Bob that that — maybe that is a reasonable inference from the details, and that that is a view that someone would have.Then there would had been a prosecution or a suggestion for prosecution. The bottom line is, Mueller didn’t advise a prosecution. JUDY WOODRUFF: Mary, you’re shaking your head no. MARY MCCORD: well, I believe he makes it clear in his government abstract to part two the motives why he’s now not making a advice, and it’s situated on the OLC memo. JUDY WOODRUFF: And, once more, that the regulations of the division. MARY MCCORD: Sorry, yes. JUDY WOODRUFF: Bob, are you announcing — did I fully grasp, Bob Bauer, do I recognize you to assert that you believe, established on what happened, that the precise information would have long gone forward and determined the president guilty of obstruction? BOB BAUER: On the info published in this file, that will had been a absolutely defensible activity of prosecutorial discretion. There are a bunch of info right here concerning the president’s repeated attempts in a quantity of ways to stop what he understood to be a chance to him, no longer about collusion, however about his obstruction of the investigation into the collusion matter. JUDY WOODRUFF: but — so you are announcing he might have defied division instructions, the place of job of authorized tips instructional materials? BOB BAUER: No, what i am suggesting, now not that he might have brought the prosecution, considering that that, I believe, he concluded he could not do beneath the OLC opinion.But I consider he would have been justified in a a lot clearer finding. And that i feel, frankly, he recommendations very a lot in this course by announcing he is now not exonerating, by means of announcing he can’t say he didn’t commit obstruction. He could were clearer within the affirmative that, actually, there may be clear proof of obstructive conduct. GEORGE TERWILLIGER: and that is exactly why we must now not have prosecutors writing experiences. That is precisely what occurred to Hillary Clinton in connection together with her handling of classified knowledge. A resolution used to be made not to prosecute her, however then there may be a whole litany of sin that is laid out. It is the identical factor here. It effortlessly provokes this variety of debate, and it’s not healthy. JUDY WOODRUFF: And now, Bob, you’re shaking your head.BOB BAUER: i’m shaking my head violently. (LAUGHTER) BOB BAUER: I suppose George is significantly complicated the challenge. Within the Hillary Clinton case, he reached the judgment that no cheap prosecutor would have found the violation on the details of his investigation. And then he went forward and characterised her conduct, if you’re going to, in ethical or normative phrases. And i accept as true with George, he should now not have carried out that. We’re talking right here about whether a prosecutor on these information would have concluded that the legislation was violated. And no one’s going to argue on these facts that no cheap prosecutor would have reached that conclusion. GEORGE TERWILLIGER: however it’s the identical backside-line determination, one-of-a-kind levels, i’ll supply you that. But it surely’s the identical backside-line dichotomy between making a selection. Seem, what prosecutors are imagined to do, if there is a foundation to charge a person, you progress forward and charge them. If not, you say nothing.After we get this kind of know-how flowing into the general public house, precisely most of these debates take place, which is drastically unfair to the persons who are subject to these allegations. BOB BAUER: Let’s also be clear, George, unlike within the Comey case, he was below a legal duty to produce this report for the legal professional common. GEORGE TERWILLIGER: I recognize that. MARY MCCORD: And, if I might add, I mean, i have learn 1000’s of prosecution studies. I was once a crook chief for decades. And then I used to be ahead of an S.D. For a at the same time. And this proceeds very very like a traditional prosecution memo. It starts with, what are the legal guidelines we’re looking at? It puts out the information. It applies to the regulation the details. It then regularly makes a recommendation after which talks about defenses. The one factor this lacks is that suggestion. JUDY WOODRUFF: Mary McCord, George Terwilliger, Bob Bauer, thank you. We will be able to proceed to talk about this. Thank you. MARY MCCORD: thanks. GEORGE TERWILLIGER: thank you. .

0 notes

pcrequirementsforoverwatch-blog · 5 years

Text

Good and Bad in Gaming

Gaming is one in all the biggest interests and even careers within the international. humans play games for a laugh or getting to know while others document videos approximately the video games. In this article, i'm able to cognizance greater on gaming itself and now not so much the side of a way to make gaming films. gamers are available in all one of a kind a long time, genders, religions, places and shapes. The backgrounds of folks who are game enthusiasts make gaming that rather more a laugh.

Backgrounds of gamers can play a component in the kind of video games that humans play. There are all styles of combinations for distinctive classes relating to the sort of video games and form of gamers. You really want to have a look at the sport's website to get all the pertinent information earlier to shopping for.

there are numerous online systems where you can purchase video games from which include Steam or Humble bundle. those sites will come up with the outline, movies with the aid of the business enterprise, images, person and non-user tags, evaluations, website, business enterprise and their social account(s). Be aware the game's internet site might not display you the whole lot you want to know. at least, a gaming company will display a brief income pitch description, small quantity of pictures (5 at quality), one or two videos by way of them and their social debts. The maximum they may offer is an informative description, their social money owed, consumer critiques and films via them.

allow's dive proper into what's perceived as poor about gaming. most people of the bad matters approximately games come from the actual-existence human beings on those games, the kind of video games and the types of games for the wrong character. A game may be poorly made but it's no longer usually the case where the game itself is awful. it is able to be wherein it changed into the wrong sort of sport for the wrong person. that is wherein the types are available in. perhaps a game has a chunk of violence. that does not make it terrible; it simply makes it the incorrect sort of game for a seven 12 months vintage. Or perhaps you got a puzzle game for a person who loves motion type video games. So the action loving character may not revel in it, but that does not make the puzzle sport horrific!

The types of video games are countless from nudity, tablets and alcohol, horror, gambling with money and extra. these different sorts are wrong for teenagers gamers as well as wrong for people who do not like seeing such matters.

Gaming has exact and horrific facets similar to the entirety else. The secret's how true and bad are those facets. for example, a few video games have a horrific facet with gamers that like to fight lots. that is commonplace in video games. understand for quite a few gamers this is not a huge deal; but, for kids who're new to the sport or even gaming in trendy this may be frustrating. There are instances whilst you want to keep away from the awful aspects all together. There are instances when the good outweighs the terrible. If this takes place and there are not any problems with the sport itself; then the terrible aspect is simply that one little fly for your room which isn't any big deal. warning: If the awful outweighs the best, i'd strongly endorse heading off that sport.

another factor that people will nag a game developer or writer approximately is representation. have to I say, a lack of representation which isn't always restrained to race, frame type and message in the sport. in case you are able to customize your person, then of route you may now not have a problem with representation. there is a trouble in some games where they don't represent sturdy and smart ladies, minority females and men, massive, small, tall, and brief ladies and adult males. be aware how I failed to placed "men" after woman for sturdy? that is due to the fact adult males in games are constantly represented as robust and smart.

In games that display a male sturdy and clever, he will often likely be white, tall, skinny, movie big name looking and buff. you may not often see him be a minority, short, overweight, no longer buff, nerdy looking, while still being robust and smart. you notice this even less for ladies. some girls in games also are white, tall, thin and strong while showing skin like no the next day. You simplest see these women in mmorpg games (hugely Multiplayer online position playing sport) though. RPG games are intended for fantasy worlds in which you mostly fight people and monsters. Of route the women' stats can be sturdy but they won't look robust.

In most games, once they add a individual in an effort to play they always add a white male first, then a white woman, then a black male, after which a black woman. They do not even truely upload folks who are mixes of races or in between. with regards to the black characters they handiest upload one coloration of "black" or "African American" and not every black man or woman on the earth is that shade.

In video games, the majority of the characters are continually thin and tall. You do not without a doubt see characters that are quick and skinny, tall and chubby, short and overweight, and so forth. There are a whole lot of folks who are not skinny and who aren't tall.

Then lastly, there is the mental message that is going with the gender, race, and frame type. What do I mean through the intellectual message? some games send an indirect message about that man or woman being robust and smart or some thing else. at the same time as for other games it may be a mental message either on motive or no longer. for example, in the sport you play and also you see a minority girl who is brief, overweight, nerdy looking and her trends are to be a goof ball, naive, and dumb. it may send a intellectual message to you that humans that look like her are similar to her. they are no longer clever, they are not thin, and are not tall. They did poorly in faculty, and many others. and so on. so you start wondering the ones matters based on now not simplest seeing this in that sport time and again once more, however when it happens in different video games too.

The worst element is NONE of these items are actual. sure, a few human beings aren't skinny, tall, and perhaps now not that brilliant; but not anyone is like this! You do have brief obese minorities who're smart as all get out! you've got all sorts of combinations of folks that ARE clever! Of direction, all these items about gender, race, frame kind, and messages are not simply in gaming; they're in films, television shows, ads, and so forth. what's exciting is that a number of the creators who make the games, movies, television indicates, commercials, etc., are minorities themselves and they make up the population of the earth. (search "world populace by means of race 2016" and click on the primary 3 hyperlinks if you do not trust me.)

quick disclaimer: i am no longer BASHING all of us! sure, i used to be shouting that. This segment of the article is telling you what I recognize, study, hear and enjoy in gaming.

if you do not believe me pass take a look at modern television indicates, movies, advertisements, and games. A display to examine for precise illustration is Milo Murphy's regulation. two video games to examine as a reference for true illustration are OverWatch and Atlas Reactor. Now in these fields it has gotten better for illustration mainly gender, race and simply now beginning frame type (in particular in this order). a few games even add robots and creatures as playable characters to avoid having problems with illustration. This gets rid of the problem of customers looking a man or woman to symbolize their actual or desired gender, race, or frame type due to the fact now there is a man or woman most users can agree on. in the end, you can't please all people.

o.k., now that I ranted and got the horrific stuff out of the way; allow's get into the coolest elements of gaming! you have game enthusiasts as younger as three years antique and as antique as ninety+! no matter your age, race, gender, faith, lifestyle, or place gaming may be top for all of us. Gaming cannot most effective be a laugh, however useful and academic.

A benefit with gaming is it may assist youngsters have greater self assurance in themselves and be more social. if they play an internet multiplayer game and talk to different gamers around the world, this could assist then get used to talking to other human beings besides family and that they benefit self belief in what they may be saying. they could cross from an introvert to a social fanatic! it can take place fast or slowly. although it's not a game however a place for gamers, artists, style designers, automobile fanatic, and so on. to chat; it's going to nonetheless assist them be more social. preserve in mind though, typing to someone after which voice chatting to a person are distinctive studies. youngsters may be very social while typing but very shy whilst voice chatting.

that is how i am. earlier than i used to be shy while speakme to people I did not know whether or not it was online or offline, now i've turn out to be greater cozy with it due to the fact I realize the way to cope with myself and have faith in myself. however with regards to voice chatting online, i'm the quiet character on the chat. Counterproductive proper! you might even forget i used to be in a call with you! before while the humans at the financial institution said "hi" I wouldn't say whatever, now I definitely respond and say "hi. How are you?" After that I don't surely assume to talk with them so i will be quiet once more lol. See what I mean? After socializing, in fashionable, over the years you get higher at it and grow to be much less fearful and more assured in your self.

every other benefit with gaming is group work. once in a while in games the best manner to win or accomplish a aim is to paintings with one or extra players. In sure video games, players are allowed a assignment may be performed with only one player, however it is probably more difficult unless you've got extra players than your self. different instances sure responsibilities can not be accomplished with one player and want or extra. There are instances you are making a set with your buddies or circle of relatives to complete the purpose. different instances you could make a set with human beings you didn't understand.

this is in which it can get tricky. If it is a game wherein you may make a collection it truly is invite simplest, you'd simply invite your friends or circle of relatives. you can strategize with them, you'll be more comfortable talking with them, and you may all agree to work together. If it is a sport wherein there may be no institution system but you could nevertheless work with others, aka free for fall, and you may communicate with them there might also nevertheless be a purpose that could simplest be completed with a couple of players. Do you have to play with other gamers you've got in no way talked to earlier than in case your circle of relatives and buddies can't be part of you and you actually need to complete this aim?

This is not a horrific issue although! this is wherein you not only come to be greater social but you learn how to paintings with different gamers you've in no way met before. if you usually play with your circle of relatives and pals you both already understand a way to work collectively, how the alternative thinks, and many others. however if it is someone you have in no way met it may be a touch difficult. Me and my brother grew up doing the whole thing together without actually having any friends, maybe colleagues and associates however now not without a doubt friends. So we have been very used to knowing what the opposite wanted or how they played and so forth. but whilst we definitely got two buddies, it become very hard to agree on many stuff. So if you play and paintings with other human beings now it will be easier later. Me and my brother have advanced our abilties to work with others.

some other advantage is staying power which ties in with group constructing and socializing. after all, so that it will get better at some thing you no longer best ought to hold doing it but you need to have endurance even as doing it. There are normally in video games in which you have to wait. just like studying is in the whole lot, you need to have persistence for the whole lot. In games you always must await something. You want to have patience for locating something, something to complete cooking, some thing to complete demise, your friends to come back back from going afk (faraway from Keyboard), the next wave of monsters to return, the subsequent level to open up, and so forth. and so forth. I needed to have patience while writing this newsletter! So gaming permit you to have more staying power in gaming and normal life.

any other advantage is hand and eye coordination. while you're gaming you have to pay attention to what's happening for your screen while also urgent your controller or keyboard button to do extra things in your display. if you need to transport your individual in that game, you need to use your keyboard and mouse or a controller even as still looking at your screen. it's like gaining knowledge of how to type. maximum of the time you're alleged to learn how to type phrases and sentences at the same time as looking at your screen without looking at your keyboard. This equal factor applies to gaming. you have for you to press the needed keys so that it will accomplish that factor you are seeking to do at the same time as looking at your screen. in spite of everything, in case you're urgent your keys but no longer searching at your screen, how are you going to understand in case you're doing it right?

Now, this one is a advantage and academic gain - reminiscence. games can help enhance your memory. How? permit me tell you. Take what I stated above approximately typing. The individuals who can have a look at their screens and type without looking at their keyboard have something called "muscle reminiscence". when they need to make a positive letter seem on display they simply need to press that key and that they do not should examine the keyboard because they have got press that key so often they themselves and their muscle mass recollect where that sure secret is. you have muscle memory already. don't agree with me? take a look at your keyboard proper now. you see wherein all the letters, numbers, and emblems are proper? The letters aren't in alphabetical order. So each time you attempted to type your call or some thing on a virtual keyboard where the letter had been alphabetical; Did you're taking you longer than usually to type that word and was it weird and confusing? It was. i've carried out it. you realize why?

while you type or textual content to a person you realize the phrase you want to make seem on screen and you recollect where the keys are. maybe you can't inform them so as if someone asked you however if they requested you to kind a phrase you'll be able to kind it because you understand where the keys are. For me I recognise a way to spell certain words while i'm typing however maybe now not how to spell it verbally. this is due to the fact i'm seeing the word being spelled in front of me. Technically while we type to each different we're spelling out phrases after which reading them in our mind. however whilst you talk out loud you do not see the words you just pay attention them. certain, whilst you study textual content on display you pay attention them to your mind, even proper now not you hear these words i'm typing, but you don't verbally pay attention them and you are seeing each letter make up that word. whilst a person spells something wrong you without delay note it because it's no longer spelled proper and you read it. whilst someone speaks something you do not examine any letters, you best hear the word.

So games permit you to increase muscle reminiscence and thoughts reminiscence. If you may keep objects in recreation you need to take into account in which you put it, or in case you need a recipe to make something you would possibly keep in mind the recipe, or maybe you don't forget a element about some thing important, or maybe you take into account the manner via a maze or the manner domestic. a few games are even built just to help enhance your memory or the most effective manner to maintain progressing is remembering positive statistics. My mother can kind without looking at the keyboard however struggles with trying to stroll in video games.

So now let's get into the educational advantages. One instructional benefit is math. Now, the game doesn't ought to have a aim to train you math in order for it to have math. The point of going to high school is to get an training! not socialize, however you still may make buddies. So this is applicable to all video games. the game does not constantly should have a aim of J but it'd encompass J. Its aim is probably X however it'd nevertheless have J. In a few video games you may build homes and use recipes to make items. How huge do you need your a way to be? 30 blocks X 10 blocks X 60 blocks? Did you understand what I just stated? let me say it differently. 30 blocks at the X axis (left and right at the floor), 10 blocks on the Y axis (up and down on the floor), and 60 blocks on the Z axis (up and down in the air). this is the way you'd build a house, using math, in a game known as Minecraft. With these coordinates it method your own home can be a rectangle with a very tall roof. permit's use Minecraft once more for this subsequent example.

in case you want to make four swords for instance, what do you need? You want wood and iron. How an awful lot wooden? How a great deal iron? we're going to start with the handle. You want two sticks to make the deal with for one sword. One wooden log may be changed into 4 wooden planks, take two and you could then make 4 timber sticks. You want to make 4 sword handles. So what number of wooden logs do you want? One. For the sword itself it takes portions of iron. You want to make four swords, so how an awful lot iron do you want? 8. See? depending on what you are making and the way lots of that component the recipe can name for lots of resources or only some.

some other educational advantage is problem solving. There are plenty of video games with puzzles or none however it is able to nevertheless consist of hassle solving. an awesome recreation as an instance is Scribblenauts unlimited. on this game you visit make specific locations fixing people's troubles to cause them to satisfied which offers you an item to therapy a person. to be able to remedy their issues, you have to use adjectives and nouns to solve the hassle itself or make something to remedy the problem. The exceptional component is you could resolve that problem many specific ways and no manner is the wrong manner. some games even alternate based in your selections and we call those "paths". some paths can trade, live on the equal route, or stop. so that you need to solve each hassle the high-quality way otherwise you may pick the wrong direction or a route that ends.

every other academic benefit is reaction timing. in case you don't want to die in a certain recreation your response to some thing might be the identifying reality of your survival or grave. The extra you check your reaction timing the quicker you'll get and soon you may be able to react to things quickly. this will come from video games with fight like MMORPGs, shooters, and PvP (player V participant).

#greater on gaming #video games

0 notes

airoasis · 5 years

Text

How 3 legal experts interpret the Mueller report

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/how-3-legal-experts-interpret-the-mueller-report/

How 3 legal experts interpret the Mueller report

0 notes