Look at the stars...

Knitting, etc and miscellaneous variations thereof. also, whatever I find that's just cool, y'know?

[butlookatthestars]

Finished object Friday (just)

Started these socks in April, did the first one in about 3 days, got distracted, and now finally finished the second one! Possibly more fair isle than colour work? Definitely enjoyed them though, 2nd most fun pair of socks knit to date.

Does anyone else find that they knit much faster with patterns like this, where each section is only 5 or so rows? Absolutely flew through them (when I was actually knitting).

[passumbapper]

it's almost summer do you guys want my stupid hyperoptimized lemonade recipe that takes half a day to make and whips absolute ass

[passumbapper]

Fruited Lemonade That Makes You Reconsider It All

ingredience:

lemons/limes (this needs to make up the bulk of the fruit being used, like at least 80%)

whatever other fruits or fruit scraps you want, plus any herbs/other flavorings you want to try. by fruit scraps I mean things like cherry pits, apple peels, pineapple cores, strawberry ends, things like that.

granulated white sugar, the coarser the better, 50% by weight of total citrus rinds + 100% by weight of any additional fruit. you'll measure this after you prep the fruit.

water as needed

equipment:

a few nonmetallic mixing bowls

a mesh strainer

a chinoise, ricer or some cheesecloth

a kitchen scale

a citrus juicer or reamer (manual or electric)

a potato masher

juice the citrus through a strainer - saving all rinds -  and refrigerate the juice for the time being. dice the rinds and other fruits if any, keeping the rinds separate. make note of weights, and measure your sugar.

 Place sugar in a large nonmetallic bowl. If using non-citrus fruits and/or any other flavorings, mix them in with the sugar and mash with potato masher. add diced citrus rinds, mix thoroughly, and mash again. cover and let stand at room temperature for at least 4 hours. this allows the sugar to draw out flavors that would otherwise get discarded with the rinds, and the rinds' acids should be enough to dissolve the sugar into a syrup.

Afterward, mash one last time, then collect the syrup by pressing the macerated mixture through a strainer/chinoise or ricer, or squeeze it through cheesecloth. if you want, this can be saved as a standalone syrup at this point, for use in cocktails or desserts. if not, slowly pour the reserved juice through the solids to to help get the remaining syrup out, and squeeze/press again. do the same thing one more time with warm water (roughly the same amount of water as juice). discard solids (or try making sangria with them!).

taste the mixture and add more water if necessary. a stronger mix is totally fine if you anticipate serving over ice on a hot day, or adding booze, or if there was a lot of non-sour fruit. keep in mind that it will taste a bit less sweet once it's chilled. pour into a pitcher and refrigerate.

citrus oils will float to the top, so stir/shake before serving. love you. enjoy.

some tried and true flavor combos:

straight lemon or lime, or any combination of the two, is of course an untouchable classic

lemon & strawberries (that's pussy babe!)

lemon & orange with a hint of vanilla (creamsiclemonade...?)

lemon & apples or apple peels with cinnamon/ginger/allspice (for late summer)

some cocktail type combos, booze optional:

lemon or lime & berries with basil + gin

lime & mint + white rum

lime & ginger + dark rum

lime & cucumber + gin

lime & orange (berries optional) + tequila

lemon, orange & cherry + brandy, bourbon, or rye whiskey

[butlookatthestars]

@ifthisislifewheresthemanual re: your recent interests?

[butlookatthestars]

Guess what I finally fucking finished!! (Apologies for the terrible picture, but it's 12 am here)

Started these last January, then got hit by second sock syndrome, then put them aside entirely to knit my sister a Christmas jumper (ended up being a new years present but nvm), but I've finally finished!

And they are the warmest, softest, prettiest socks I've ever owned 😍

[butlookatthestars]

Five years later and they're still going strong, and still some of the nicest socks I've ever made. Also I think these were like my second ever attempt at colour work :)

[igneousbody]

"In the 1960s, after his seminal work on barn owls, Roger Payne switched his attention to whales. In 1971, he published two historic papers. (...) The second showed that fin whales—the second-largest animals after blue whales—make extremely low-pitched calls that can be heard across entire oceans. It nearly destroyed Payne’s career.

That controversial paper was born of the Cold War. To listen for Soviet submarines, the U.S. Navy installed chains of underwater listening posts in the Pacific and Atlantic. This network, known as the Sound Surveillance System, or SOSUS, picked up a deluge of oceanic noises. Some were clearly biological. Others were more mysterious. One especially enigmatic sound was monotonous, repetitive, and low, with a frequency of 20 Hz—an octave below the lowest key on a standard piano. This hum was so loud that people doubted it could be coming from an animal. Did it have a military origin? Was it produced by underwater tectonic activity? Did it come from waves crashing on some distant shoreline? The actual source only became clear when Navy scientists started following the sounds to their sources, and often found a fin whale at the end.

Human hearing typically bottoms out at around 20 Hz. Below those frequencies, sounds are known as infrasound, and they’re mostly inaudible to us unless they’re very loud. Infrasounds can travel over incredibly long distances, especially in water. Knowing that fin whales also produce infrasound, Payne calculated, to his shock, that their calls could conceivably travel for 13,000 miles. No ocean is that wide. Together with oceanographer Douglas Webb, Payne published his calculations, speculating that the largest whales “may be in tenuous acoustic contact throughout a relatively enormous volume of ocean.” The response was brutal. Leading whale researchers told him that his paper was pure fantasy. Colleagues hinted that critics had been questioning his mental health behind his back. “When you get to distances like that, people just refuse to believe that it’s true,” Payne tells me.

Payne’s work made a more positive impression on Chris Clark. A young acoustician and former choirboy, Clark was recruited by Roger and Katy Payne to be a sound technician on a 1972 trip to Argentina to study right whales. It was a thrilling and formative time. Camped on a beach beneath the Southern Cross, with penguins bumbling past and albatrosses wheeling overhead, Clark began listening to whales. He placed hydrophones in the water to eavesdrop on their songs and found ways of assigning specific recordings to individual whales. He went on to compile libraries of whale calls, recorded all over the world, from Argentina to the Arctic. And all the while, Payne’s idea of giant whales talking over oceans stuck with him.

In the 1990s, with the Cold War over and the threat of Soviet subs diminished, the Navy offered Clark and others a chance to observe real-time recordings from their SOSUS hydrophones. Amid the spectrograms—visual representations of the sounds that SOSUS picked up—Clark saw the unmistakable signal of a singing blue whale. On his first day, Clark saw that more blue whale vocalizations had been recorded from a single SOSUS sensor than had been described before in the entire scientific literature. The ocean was awash with their calls, and those calls were coming in from enormous distances. Clark calculated that one individual was 1,500 miles from the sensor that recorded it. He could listen to whales singing in Ireland with a microphone situated off Bermuda. “I just thought: Roger was right,” he says. “It is physically possible to detect a blue whale singing across an ocean basin.” (...)

Although blue and fin whale songs can traverse oceans, no one knows if the whales actually communicate at such ranges. It’s possible that they’re signaling to nearby individuals with very loud calls, which just happen to extend further afield. But Clark points out that they repeat the same notes, over and over again, and at very precise intervals. A singing whale will stop calling when it surfaces for air, and come back on the beat when it submerges. “That’s not arbitrary,” he says. It reminds him of the redundant and repetitive signals that Martian rovers use to beam data back to Earth. If you wanted to design a signal that could be used to communicate across oceans, you’d come up with something similar to a blue whale’s song.

Those songs might have other uses, too. Their notes can last for several seconds, with wavelengths as long as a football field. Clark once asked a Navy friend what he could do with such a call. “I could illuminate the ocean,” the friend replied. That is, he could map distant underwater landscapes, from submerged mountains to the seafloor itself, by processing the echoes returning from the far-reaching infrasounds. Geophysicists can certainly use fin whale songs to map the density of the ocean crust. But can the whales do so?

Clark sees evidence in their movements. Through SOSUS, he has seen blue whales emerging in polar waters between Iceland and Greenland and making a beeline—a whaleline?—for tropical Bermuda, singing all the way. He has seen whales slaloming between underwater mountain ranges, zigging and zagging between landmarks hundreds of miles apart. “When you watch these animals move, it’s as if they have an acoustic map of the oceans,” he says. He also suspects that the animals can build up such maps over their long lives, accruing sound-based memories that lurk in their mind’s ear. After all, Clark recalls veteran sonar specialists telling him that different parts of the sea had their own distinctive sounds. “They said: If you put a pair of headphones on me, I can tell you if I’m near Labrador or off the Bay of Biscay,” says Clark. “I thought that if a human being could do this in 30 years, what could an animal do with 10 million years?”

The scale of a whale’s hearing is hard to grapple with. There’s the spatial vastness, of course, but also an expanse of time. Underwater, sound waves take just under a minute to cover 50 miles. If a whale hears the song of another whale from a distance of 1,500 miles, it’s really listening back in time by about half an hour, like an astronomer gazing upon the ancient light of a distant star. If a whale is trying to sense a mountain 500 miles away, it has to somehow connect its own call with an echo that arrives 10 minutes later. That might seem preposterous, but consider that a blue whale’s heart beats around 30 times a minute at the surface, and can slow to just 2 beats a minute on a dive. They surely operate on very different timescales than we do. If a zebra finch hears beauty in the milliseconds within a single note, perhaps a blue whale does the same over seconds and minutes. To imagine their lives, “you have to stretch your thinking to completely different levels of dimension,” Clark tells me. He compares the experience to looking at the night sky through a toy telescope and then witnessing its full majesty through NASA’s spaceborne Hubble telescope. When he thinks about whales, the world feels bigger, stretching out in space and time.

Whales weren’t always big. They evolved from small, hoofed, deer-like animals that took to the water around 50 million years ago. Those ancestral creatures probably had vanilla mammalian hearing. But as they adapted for an aquatic life, one group of them—the filter-feeding mysticetes, which include blues, fins, and humpbacks—shifted their hearing to low infrasonic frequencies. At the same time, their bodies ballooned into some of the largest Earth has ever seen. These changes are probably connected. The mysticetes achieved their huge size by evolving a unique style of feeding, which allows them to subsist upon tiny crustaceans called krill. Accelerating into a krill swarm, a blue whale expands its mouth to engulf a volume of water as large as its own body, swallowing half a million calories in one gulp. But this strategy comes at a cost. Krill aren’t evenly distributed across the oceans, so to sustain their large bodies, blue whales must migrate over long distances. The same giant proportions that force them to undergo these long journeys also equip them with the means to do so—the ability to make and hear sounds that are lower, louder, and more far-reaching than those of other animals.

Back in 1971, Roger Payne speculated that foraging whales could use these sounds to stay in touch over long distances. If they simply called when fed and stayed silent when hungry, they could collectively comb an ocean basin for food and home in on bountiful areas that lucky individuals have found. A whale pod, Payne suggested, might be a massively dispersed network of acoustically connected individuals, which seem to be swimming alone but are actually together."

- Ed Yong, An Immense World : How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us

[themarginalthinker]

'oh it must be so fun and cool knowing how to knit-'

it is. but I also experience the Madness

[violetsandshrikes]

okay so if you need more veggies/fruit, protein or fibre (bc most people do NOT eat enough) in your diet but you struggle to do so, hear me out:

look up recipes (especially snack recipes) that are child/toddler/baby-friendly

i can guarantee there is a woman with a cooking blog out there who has found away to pack a bunch of vegetables into a surprisingly delicious little snack for her kids. this process has never failed me when i feel like i am not eating enough fruits and veggies. my entire flat is eating spinach muffins at the moment, which doesn’t sounding particularly appealing to most people and yet somehow. they’re delicious.

[violetsandshrikes]

putting some of my saved recipes under a read more for people to use as inspiration or a starting point ❤️

Kid Friendly Quinoa Pizza Bites

This healthy, gluten free recipe idea is a kid pleaser!  Quinoa Pizza Bites make a nutritious meal or snack the whole family will love.

Carrot Star Bites - Healthy Little Foodies

Carrot star bites are fantastic for baby-led weaning or as toddler snack. Also great for big kids too - a healthy lunchbox item.

Oatmeal Green Smoothie Muffins

These Green Smoothie Muffins are so easy to make, delicious and kid-approved! Perfectly sweet, soft and packed with healthy greens! Naturall

Carrot Lentil Protein Muffins

These carrot lentil protein muffins are a great kid-friendly snack, filled with sneaky lentils to add healthy protein, fibre and nutrients.

Vegetable Fritters - Healthy Little Foodies

These Vegetable Fritters are perfect for kids of all ages. Packed with veggies for nutrients & eggs and chickpea flour for protein. Gluten f

Curried Lentil Bake - Healthy Little Foodies

This lentil bake is perfect for babies, kids and adults. Made with 4 veggies, lentils, sweet potato and egg. Great for lunch boxes.

Sweet Potato Quinoa Cakes Recipe | Haute & Healthy Living

Quinoa Cakes are an easy way to pack in nutrients! Make in advance for a fun, healthy side or snack during the week! {Gluten Free, Vegan}

[butlookatthestars]

@ifthisislifewheresthemanual re: your current cooking phase

[mckitterick]

Sometimes victory belongs to mercy and looks like failure

had to share this brilliant discussion - source: X

At the most important moment in modern fantasy, the hero fails. Not quietly. Not ambiguously. He stands at the edge of the world, feels the full weight of evil loosen its grip, and chooses it anyway.

At the edge of Mount Doom, with the fate of the world balanced on a single will, Frodo Baggins does not throw the Ring into the fire. He claims it. The moment every heroic narrative has trained us to expect as triumph becomes instead a confession of failure. Tolkien does not flinch. He lets the hero break.

And yet the world is saved.

This is not a plot twist. It is a moral thesis. The destruction of the Ring happens not because Frodo earns victory, but because mercy extended long before the ending finally comes due. The quest resolves because of a chain reaction of restraint. The decisive force is not discipline, not optimization, not grit. It is pity.

This is where Tolkien quietly dismantles the moral machinery of hustle culture decades before we had language for it. We live inside a story that teaches us effort converts cleanly into outcome. That endurance guarantees reward. That suffering is a down payment on success. Tolkien offers a colder and far more honest truth. Sometimes you do everything right and still cannot finish the job.

Scholars have long noted that Frodo’s failure is not a betrayal of his character but the completion of it. The Ring is not a fair test of willpower. As J.R.R. Tolkien wrote plainly in his letters, the will is not infinite. Power erodes agency. The closer one comes to absolute domination, the less freedom remains. Frodo is not weak at the Crack of Doom. He is human at the end of an inhuman burden.

By the time he reaches the Fire, Frodo has endured starvation, sleep deprivation, repeated physical injury, and sustained psychological terror. Modern neuroscience would describe this as cumulative trauma. Tolkien simply wrote it as reality. Expecting one last burst of perfect moral clarity from a nervous system already wrecked by suffering is not heroism. It is wishful thinking disguised as virtue.

The quest only succeeds because of Gollum. And even that rescue is not redemption in the sentimental sense. Gollum does not transform into goodness. He falls into the fire because of what he already is. The deeper truth is that Gollum is alive at all only because he was spared when mercy looked foolish. First by Bilbo. Then by Gandalf. Then most dangerously by Frodo himself.

The Ring is destroyed not because Frodo conquers it, but because Frodo once chose not to destroy someone else.

This is a devastating inversion of the moral economy most of us were raised to believe in. We are taught to look for visible proof that goodness works. Tolkien gives us an older logic. Moral victories are often retroactive. The most transformative decisions rarely announce themselves as such. They look inefficient. They look naive. They often look like failure.

In the medieval moral tradition that shaped Tolkien, mercy was not sentimental. It was strategic in a way power could never be. Mercy refused to close the future. It kept outcomes unresolved. It preserved the possibility that evil might one day undo itself. Tolkien does not sanctify Gollum. He allows evil to collapse under its own gravity because mercy refuses to force a premature ending.

This alone would be enough to unsettle the reader. But Tolkien goes further. He denies us the fantasy that salvation heals everything.

After the Ring is destroyed, Tolkien insists on the Scouring of the Shire. Home is violated. The saved world is not the same world. The victory does not restore innocence. Frodo returns permanently wounded. He cannot sleep without pain. He cannot fully enter the peace he helped secure.

The modern myth is that collapse will be redeemed by recognition. Tolkien refuses that lie.

We want the hero to stand at the end and receive the moral reward. Tolkien lets his hero sit down and admit he is finished. Frodo does not recover because recovery would falsify the cost.

This is why The Lord of the Rings remains psychologically modern beneath its ancient scaffolding. The story already understands what burnout culture would take another century to articulate. Some burdens cannot be survived without damage. Some systems demand more than one conscience can sustain. Sometimes the bravest outcome is not conquest but survival long enough to make mercy matter.

We live in an age that worships visible dominance. We measure virtue through performance. We reward leaders who claim they can bend chaos through sheer will. Tolkien issues a quiet warning instead. When power becomes the proof of goodness, goodness collapses.

Frodo fails because no one was ever meant to pass that final test.

The world is not saved by the flawless execution of the righteous. It is saved by the accumulated weight of restraint. By choices made without assurance of payoff. By mercy that looked wasted at the time. By patience that looked irrational. By hands that refused the easy kill and kept the future open instead.

The modern fantasy is not Middle-earth. The modern fantasy is that effort always guarantees justice.

Tolkien tells a harder truth. Sometimes the most important moral decisions you will ever make will feel powerless when you make them. Sometimes the victory will not belong to your endurance at all. It will belong to mercy that looked like weakness years earlier.

Frodo does not win.

Mercy does.

And it does not feel triumphant.

[butlookatthestars]

Discovering once again that the experience of lace-making is not improved by the addition of a headphone cable to get caught around the bobbins you're trying to move 😥

[freshmangojuice]

Some of the best line deliveries in Red Dwarf!

[oligy101]

My liege, if you recall, the prophecy stated that you would fall by the hands of your first born son. Yes, I understand that twelve daughters is a very impressive feat, but mayhaps you should consider quitting while you’re ahead?

[oligy101]

My liege, you mustn’t be so reckless. If you recall, your prophecy stated “you shall not die by any efforts of man or woman, nor of any material from this land”, and it feels rather pertinent to your most recent decision. Please consider the situation with your father and your brother, and to a lesser extent your 32 younger sisters, and know your prophecy is not one to be neglected. Your father tempted fate and look where that got him. Yes my liege, I do know it was a heart attack that he passed from, but the royal guard directly saw your baby brother reach out towards your father with his hands as he passed. Yes, I know the prophecy would be better stated to say “beside the hand” rather than “by the hand”, I didn’t write the prophecy. No my liege, I mean no disrespect. Yes, I agree, this was a very inappropriate time to discuss your father, and we should go back to the issue at hand. Yes, I do recall that no man or woman may slay you, however, if you think about the prophecy with the context of your newly imported elephant,

[oligy101]

My liege, this is hardly the appropriate attire for a hunting trip, especially one to the woods you were forbade from entering. Yes your majesty, I know you are ruler of this kingdom, but if you recall your prophecy- you mock me. I take your safety and fate with the upmost sincerity, and you respond with “mi mi mi mimi”? Please recall your- yes I know what your prophecy states, “your reign shall last until nature itself regains your throne and crown”, I was about to recount it for you. Look my liege, I think this hunting trip is a terrible idea. You are far too clumsy and the forest floor is uneven with roots! If the stairs of the palace or your own feet are enough to cause you to trip, remaining upright may be difficult, and, to put it frankly, falling hitting your head on a rock would hardly a glorious engraving on your tombstone. Please don’t wear the crown on this hunting trip, they’ll know you’re the new queen because of how similar you look to your sister. It’s a prideful act that will only- oh the royal messenger is here. What news do you have? Oh this requires my immediate attention. I will return, my liege. Do not attend that hunting trip in your current attire, though you should consider not going at all.

[oligy101]

Royal To-Do List

Schedule date of coronation

Organise a trip to the Royal Soothsayer with the new Queen

Search forest for the crown

Purchase a new throne, or locate the stolen one

Fix elephant-shaped hole in the throne room

[oligy101]

Now, as a part of the induction protocols, all new employees are to be informed of a long-held family tradition. When each new ruler comes to power, they receive a letter a few days later from the old soothsayer. Yes, the one who lives in the woods, we paid for them to live there. Thought it would be a good way to avoid receiving more prophecies, as she wouldn’t receive notice of the coronation until afterwards, but now they just get sent in the mail. We used to add in 15 minutes leeway to the schedule for when the soothsayer interrupted the event, it was a nightmare to try and predict when they’d show up. If it were up to me, we’d stop the postal service going that far, but only the Queen can make that ruling. I’m getting sidetracked. As I recall, the Queen’s prophecy states “your heart will bleed when the man who could never love you distances himself, his aim not one intending to hurt you, yet he will be your demise”. In order to circumvent this, she is not allowed to take a hand in marriage, and any casual romances are monitored to ensure attraction is present from both parties. Furthermore, suitors are not informed of the Queen’s status as royalty, further preventing anyone attempting to woo her for wealth or political status. She’s also elected to take on many hobbies to fill her time, to focus less on any romantic endeavours. It’s a good system, if a little difficult to source new hobbies on short notice. Oh, yes, please voice your concerns. It’s always a good sign when new employees take the Queen’s prophecy seriously.

Well yes, this is why we hired you. She’s been interested in archery as a hobby recently, and we can’t exactly send somewhere accessible to the general public. What if she falls for someone outside of our control? No, it’s much safer to hire you as her private archery instructor. And I presume she’ll learn quickly, not every archery instructor considers himself an “arrow ace”.

[oligy101]

My liege, I’ve been reviewing some of the royal funding and budgetary records, and a few things have come to my attention. Now, I understand that we have surplus funding in the royal vault as a result of your prophecy, which, if you recall, states that “you will die by a blade not intended for battle, but one that will find it’s way to you in a moment of joy”. I stand by it being a wise decision to keep you away from any activities such as woodworking or cooking, and that the money that would have gone into funding those activities was yours to allocate as you wished, but I suspect I’ve found some errors on the records. Firstly, we have two categories of payments going to the soothsayer; one for living expenses, and one, as I have just discovered, labeled “prophecies”. I suspect that- I beg your pardon my liege? We pay for the prophecies? Why on earth- We’re paying them to not deliver us prophecies, that’s why they live out on the far end of the woods. This doesn’t- Tradition? I understand it’s a tradition my liege, but if we are paying for it to be inconvenient to deliver prophecies, and then paying for the prophecies themselves- Is that why your sister wished to go to the soothsayer in person rather than wait for a letter? She was aware of this? And the rest of your sisters too? My liege, surely you see that it undermines our efforts in preventing prophecies to pay for them. At the very least, one of the payments should be discontinued to improve our financial status. You’re right my liege, this is a very complex discussion that requires more time to process, and I shall “shut up about the soothsayer” as you so eloquently put it. We will be discussing this later. The other issue I came to inquire about was that within the records for the entertainment budget, each performance is listed by name. I once again would like to reiterate that the extra funding for entertainment, while not aligning with my recommendations, is reasonable given the circumstances of your prophecy. However, once again with considerations to your prophecy, “Pablo the Knife-Juggler”,

[oligy101]

My liege, I’m beginning to understand why you have called me to the castle rooftop. As your most trusted advisor, overseeing your actions and assisting with difficult choices is why I have been employed under your family for so long. However, one key aspect of my services that has remained fairly neglected by your sisters, and your father, is that of your prophecy. Often advice regarding your prophecies leads directly to the passing of the crown, and I believe this to be a critical moment in your rule. You had a much simpler prophecy than most of your sisters, but the vagueness that comes with that should really indicate where to place your trust in me, and the rooftop seems to be that very place. If you recall, your prophecy stated that “Pride shall be your downfall”, which- No my liege, I believe that you can do a kick-flip,

[charmwasjess]

If there’s a legit good reason why Qui-Gon chose to specialize in form IV, Ataru, the Hawkbat lightsaber form, aside from the simple, likely fact that he did it to troll his old Master Dooku (who outright calls the acrobatics of the form “ridiculous,”) I’d like to hear it. By which I mean I’ll write you a post about it.

Ataru is fast, aggressive, and inclined to treat the battlefield as a 3D space where the air is just as comfortable a place to be as on your own two feet. A direct response to Soresu, the “defense is my attack” form, Ataru flips that into “attack is my defense.” (We won’t talk about Makashi’s contribution to the conversation: “no defense whatsoever, but think fast, I just threw a dinner fork at you so hard it stuck in your metal arm!”) 

Of course, the most recognizable and classic application of Ataru is Yoda’s; we see him whizzing around people’s heads like a little green hummingbird in his AotC and RotS duels. Qui-Gon’s version looks nothing like that. If we weren’t told, I think it would be hard to guess that those characters are using the same form. In Duel of the Fates, Qui-Gon has to move down or over those infamous walkways repeatedly. He just jumps them: no flips, no aerial maneuvers, no bouncing off the walls. And this isn’t simply a practical choice for his age and build: Jocasta Nu is running up walls and leaping out of skyscrapers at easily aged 40 years older than Qui-Gon, and for all Dooku’s bitching over Ataru acrobatics, he does more flips to simply avoid walking down a few stairs than Qui-Gon, Master of the flip form, does in his entire time on screen. 

And yet, on some level, all of that makes perfect sense for Qui-Gon. Who better to completely subvert a form? This is a character who is contrary as fuck, full of wonderful contradiction, who blends lightsaber theory centered on attack and aggression with literal meditation. While the most notable scene, actually kneeling in the pose and everything, is in TPM, he does battle meditation repeatedly on a mental level in the Master and Apprentice and Padawan novels. (And it rightfully freaks out Obi-Wan.) Qui-Gon takes Ataru’s “your whole body is a weapon” and doesn’t apply that to somersaults, but rather, to moves like punching Darth Maul off a balcony as we see him do in Duel of the Fates. He fights in a way that throws himself bodily up against obstacles. You can see the same physicality of his relationship with his weapon in the scene where he is simply burning through the blast doors in TPM. We’ve seen Jedi cut through things on screen other times, but that scene is remarkable and memorable for Qui-Gon’s level of intensity. He is the battering ram. 

And we could loop back into lineage, couldn’t we? Qui-Gon stands in a line of Jedi with unconventional relationships to their lightsaber forms; their choices are formed in context of and in conversation with each other. Those backward, momentum-gaining swings from Duel of the Fates look very familiar, but who trained Qui-Gon? (And who notoriously had a problem with Ataru and might've pushed his student on some workarounds or encouraged him to cut out bits he didn't like, such as aerials?) And speaking of, is it a stretch to think that Dooku’s own casual backflips are less a considered choice and more an old habit, being himself trained by a Master who has only a theoretical relationship with gravity? 

All this to enjoy just another example of how personal the lightsaber forms can be to specific Jedi, and what wonderful fun it is to unpack the ways they use them differently because of their unique personalities and lineage.

[rederiswrites]

Turns out the horsemen of the Apocalypse now prefer to go by Shareholder Profit, Private Equity, Corporate Personhood, and Workforce Optimization.

[jottingprosaist]

Shareholder Profit: War (the casus belli for attacks on workers' rights)

Private Equity: Pestilence (they are parasites that voraciously strip the value out of a healthy business until it withers and dies)

Workforce Optimization: Famine (cutting hours and employees until the business is starved of staff, barely functioning)

Corporate Personhood: Death (a hollow, shambling mockery of a human with rights and needs)

[rederiswrites]

Yeah I can work with that.

[falliblefabrial]

[falliblefabrial]

I realized this evening it had been ten years since pterry died and my heart skipped a beat. GNU.

[chthonion]

HEY.

I had the most interesting dream after falling asleep switching between the latest chapter of The Horrowing and a time travel fix it in another fandom. I thought you might enjoy a brief summary?

Post fic canon Annatar, Finrod, Celebrimbor, and Frodo getting the most hilarious do over of the First Age.

Finrod and Celebrimbor got dropped in their past bodies, bc same souls. Which has Finrod JUST captured by Sauron, before any of his 10 have been munched.

Celebrimbor is of course having a surreal not quite panic attack in Nargothrond.

Annatar, well. Annatar is CHANGED. He is quite literally too different from what he once was for them to qualify as the same soul anymore. Which is gratifying. If inconvenient bc there are now TWO of him, Annatar and full on Sauron. But they're similar enough that Annatar was dropped very close to Sauron.

Frodo is an elf. Dream logic was that hobbits do not exist yet, and his soul has touches of Annatar and Aman. He looks disconcertingly like a mix of Annatar and Celebrimbor, and they are NOT thinking about that right now. Hopefully ever.

Most of the dream centered around all of them doing their best to set aside freak outs, while getting Finrod and his merry band (plus Beren) OUT of Sauron's grasp.

There was a FANTASTIC moment where on the way out, Sauron comes face to face and soul to soul with Annatar and he's just like;

Sauron: *jaw dropped fully horrified face* WHAT are YOU?!?!?

Annatar: *shoving elves behind him, nose in the air* Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy. *uses Song to blast him through a wall while he's distracted*

The whole thing featured 10 other elves and Beren as a baffled peanut gallery.

Meanwhile Celebrimbor is weighing the pros and cons of just- drugging his uncles and shoving them in a back room somewhere where he can bolt the door. He thinks he can maybe get Huan to help if he explains?

It was SO much fun.

(hope you have a good day!)

Oh my god. This may be the best ask I've ever gotten, for so many reasons.

The fact that your subconscious was like "Yeah if Frodo's getting a new body it looks like Annatar For Some Reason"

The image of future!Annatar getting into a fight with Sauron in front of Finrod (probably happy about this development) and Beren and the other 10 (INCREDIBLY CONFUSED)

The fact that the dream was partially centered on everybody trying not to panic, which is in fact what the Harrowing is all about for a while

Absolutely incredible.

...I feel so bad for poor Celebrimbor dealing with Nargothrond all by himself while the others are off having adventures. I hope their next stop after the rescue is to swing by and pick him up. Also, I dearly want to know what Annatar has to say to Beren on the subject of his current Luthien-and-Thingol-and-Silmarils situation.

[aniseandspearmint]

XD

The dream left off there, but growing the idea a little (bc, not gonna lie, this is living rent free in my head a little);

-Frodo and Annatar probably looked each other up and down for 3 incredulous seconds. And then then simultaneously decided; this is a thing that goes on a mental shelf for now (if they keep stacking things in front of it, they can hold off on it forever! Surely that is a thing they can do that will definitely work!)

- Frodo is very wobbly. And disconcerted. And not used to having this much leg and arm tbh. Hobbits are small and easily overlooked! Now he can look Annatar in the eyes! He is Not Enjoying suddenly being a Big Folk and would like to have a nice sit down and cry about it maybe, but alas, they are in a dark and creepy tower and there is Danger, and he's suddenly very aware he's not wearing shoes. His feet are horrifyingly small and hairless, and kind of cold, and- he's gonna set that aside for now. Because DANGER. Perk of having a piece of Annatar still tho! He seems to instinctually remember the towers layout!

-Annatar and Celebrimbor can probably sense one another. They know the other is Here Too, and that is a RELIEF, even tho Annatar probably had to send the vague impression of 'oh-thank-Eru-youre-here-too! Gotta-concentrate-on-not-dying! Luv-you-see-you-soon!' And then concentrate on avoiding guard rotations with a wobbly coltish Frodo beside him, then picking locks on 12 confused prisoners chains. Finrod is not as confused so much as just very very relieved (They do not have the keys. Sauron has the keys. They're resourceful tho, and found, IDK, some little iron spiky bits somewhere?)

-Finrod is so fucking relieved. He has had this nightmare before, frequently even, but he CAN tell the difference between a nightmare and reality and Knew the instant his soul snapped into his old body that this was Real. And unlike Celebrimbor there isn't a bond with Annatar to comfort and reassure him. So for the bit between waking and Annatar showing up, he thinks he is ALONE. At the beginning of the worst experience of his entire existence. O__O

-Annatar absolutely gets grabbed and hugged by a silently crying Finrod the INSTANT the locks are picked.

Then;

Finrod: *squints at the other elf picking Beren out of his chains* Who is-

*strange elf turns a little and gives him a Look*

Finrod: ... FroDO?!?!?!? How-

Annatar: We have no idea. We're Not Talking About It NOW. Now let go and grab a spike and pick a lock! We need to get OUT of here before HE comes looking!

Finrod: Sure, okay, why not. This might as well happen.

- Finrod's ten are thoroughly THOROUGHLY confused. But like, time and a place for questions. Sauron's dungeon is Not It.

-Annnnd they almost make it out, but Sauron catches them! Because would it truly be Harrowing related if there WASN'T an uncomfortable reflection on ones past actions and personal growth?

-Sauron is VERY CONFUSED. This is an ELF. That is, in a Truth of the World Undeniable Way, him. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

Mairon.exe has crashed.

- Annatar, for his part... Is embarrassed and angry, probably? He is literally face to face with a person that is petty and evil and terrible, and he REMEMBERS BEING THIS ASSHOLE. UGH!

- IDK if they would talk much beyond a 'who/what tf are YOU' and a 'wouldnt YOU like to know' exchange? Sauron because he's in a mental loop of 'wtf wtf WTF' and also getting his ass handed to him, and Annatar because he's been this person, he knows trying to talk would be wasted, and the less Sauron knows to tell Morgoth eventually, the better.

MEANWHILE

- Celebrimbor knows Annatar is here also, and is smart enough to know where he likely landed, and also knows that he can't get there in time to help probably. *angry and helpless gritting of teeth*

- Oh Eru, he'd managed to forget exactly how much of a flaming disaster Nargothrond was immediately after Finrod was ousted (lbr, it probably always was a bit, but now things are REALLY burning).

- I'm not sure if he'd stay? Like, the dream was vaguer on what he was doing. And iirc, the canon timeline is kind of vague too. I guess it depends on if this is right before Curufin and Celegorm have kidnapped Luthien, or after? Both have interesting potential.

- Celebrimbor: *looks at Nargothrond* yeah, no I'm out. Not doing THIS again. *goes to find Luthien*

- Either way, he probably ends up attaching himself to Luthien and Huan and meets Annatar and co halfway?

[chthonion]

THERE'S MORE AND IT IS EVEN MORE INCREDIBLE

I am legitimately emotional about that Finrod-hugs-Annatar moment now. ...I am always emotional about Finrod-and-Annatar hugs, let's be honest.

(Frodo and Annatar ABSOLUTELY decided, in perfect unison and without any verbal discussion, that this is an emotional shelves situation. The shelf is shared; they are both stacking obstructions up on their respective sides of it. They are also both avoiding mirrors.)

[aniseandspearmint]

The whole Frodo and Annatar and Celebrimbor sharing features now is a PERFECT opening for the assumption that Annatar and Celebrimbor have a love child. What can I say, I just can't help but picture the FACES the three of them would make being confronted with that idea?

Celebrimbor sputtering incoherently.

Frodo being like *politely horrified face* no thank you, I'm too sane to be related to either of them!

Annatar seethingly explaining that neither of them have the right bits for that kind of creation will not help.

Especially since I suspect that bloodline is something you can check via Song, and Frodo's new body IS very likely made from a bit of *wiggly fingers* hastily swiped and combined genetic material. (Eru is probably giggling, if they can)

Curufin is going to flip. Celegorm is going to have fun watching his brother flip. This may actually help because if they're flipping out over the family baby possibly having a GROWN baby they have less time for stupid ideas? IDK

Squinting at my memories of the timeline, I think if Finrod was only just captured, Luthien probably only just left Doriath? And Curufin and Celegorm have not had time to grab her yet?

So, if Celebrimbor steals Huan first he should be able to get to her and steer her towards tol-in-gaurhoth/tol sirion.

I imagine Curufin and Celegorm are in hot pursuit bc from THEIR point of view Tyelpe was angry, then he was acting a bit strange, an then he stole his uncle's magic dog (and Huan let himself be stolen!)

Luthien, Celebrimbor, and Huan meet up with everyone a bit into the mountains away from tol-in-gaurhoth? Maybe? I'm not really sure because the maps of Beleriand are nice but make very little sense distance wise? (Mildly judging Tolkien for this. C'mon man, you KNEW how important maps are! Why is there no key?)

The story acts like tol sirion and nargothrond are closer than they are really. Given how big some of these places are described as being? *hands* travel by magic hound is really fast I guess?

¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

I figure Annatar would steer his bunch of battered ducklings elves in a direction that Sauron would hopefully not expect, which, he would probably expect them to flee backwards towards the forest of brethil or forwards towards hithlum and not sideways into the mountains on either side?

I'm sure Annatar gave his past incarnation enough of a thumping he'll be out of commission for a bit, so if he can get to like, a bolt hole/supply cache he can remember the location of, everyone can get a minute to breathe, see to injuries, and they can find Frodo a pair of boots.

Plus I'm sure he would be able to tell Tyelpe is getting closer. And running around will make it harder for Tyelpe to find them.

When Tyelpe and co catch up, they can figure out what in the WORLD is going on.

Finrod's Ten (and Beren!) REALLY want an explanation. The three of them are trying to figure out one that doesn't sound bonkers insane. It's very difficult. XD

Tyelpe shows up soon enough to help with that hopefully! With unexpected help from Luthien who blinks at Annatar for a minute, able to sense something Weird with a capital W.

The half maiar daughter of Thingol and Melian backing up their story as TRUTH in all caps probably helps a lot?

Also Huan the magic possibly-minor-maiar dog maybe chooses this as a time to Talk? IDK

Annatar probably has Opinions about the Quest everyone is throwing in on. I feel like this is a thing he can and will go on about at LENGTH. High points being; Thingol is a moron, asking for an unreachable by normal means bride price as a thinly veiled murder attempt is petty af, asking for a bride price AT ALL is terrible because elves DON'T DO THAT NORMALLY! Then he segues into how stealing a famously already stolen shiny rock does not mean its YOURS now ffs, it's just twice stolen, followed by getting into the wisdom of keeping a thing a bunch of scary dangerous people have sworn to retrieve at all cost lest they end up in the VOID upon death!

Beren: O__O

Luthien: O__O

This probably will not stop them, but IDK maybe enough will penetrate so they have the strength to tell Thingol to go to hell a bit. He deserves it.

And now it's The Silmarils Quest take two: Annatar plans a proper heist!

The original plan had was fairly simple, it worked! He can improve it tho.

First step is setting up a proper escape route to take once they've got the goods. Frodo and Edrahil are in charge of that, because none of the other time travelers want Frodo ANYWHERE near Morgoth (this is not helping the secret lovechild idea at all probably).

Then they make sure to spread the rest of everyone out along the escape route to provide cover fire if they're chased maybe. (Heists are hard, pretend there's a good plan here)

With Luthien, and Finrod, AND Annatar Singing? I feel like they might be able to keep Morgoth under long enough to just swipe the whole CROWN, they can yank the rocks out AFTER they're gone!

Heck, that might be enough to put most of Angband to sleep. Maybe do that thing Maglor gets to do in stories and Sing half or more of Morgoths army right to death. Maybe, maybe. Might be too risky tho.

[chthonion]

And there's more this is incredible

RIP to poor Frodo, who is almost infinitely younger than any of these people but also in spirit way too old to be their kid thank you very much.

Celebrimbor SO deserves to steal Huan. He's earned this. Similarly, Annatar deserves to plan a heist he would be so good at it

I am personally imagining Luthien walking into Morgoth's throne room as the only visible one and the other two singers sneaking in stealthily, and Morgoth, who can sing with as many simultaneous voices as he likes, hearing three voices and being like "I didn't think that's how incarnate voices worked but I don't know enough about elf-maia hybrids to dispute it" because he's already dazzled.

...Having trouble imagining what a Luthien-Finrod-Annatar teamup with knowledge of the future COULDN'T accomplish, tbh. Nab the entire crown? Gang up on Thingol until he agrees to let them keep his allotted Silmaril in a fit of really confused guilt? Give the Silmarils to the sons of Feanor so that they won't feel compelled to wreck everybody's everything forever? Except then Morgoth is mad at you and wants the Silmarils back...

[aniseandspearmint]

Okay this one is going under a cut, because this is getting long and there's no tap J to skip option on mobile!

Part 4 of the ridiculous and fun time travel fix it!

*points* Annatar would be SO good at a heist!

Luthien as the shiny and lovely, 'look over here not behind the curtain' focus, while Finrod, Annatar, Beren and Celebrimbor (who was NOT getting left with Frodo and the horses thanks) slip in wrapped in shadows is a FANTASTIC idea.

And your absolutely correct, Morgoth wouldn't know anything about how incarnates with maiar blood work! Who does? Luthien is about it, I doubt even her parents know what all she can do.

With Annatar and Finrod also there, and VERY FREAKING MOTIVATED, Morgoth is OUT. Anyone and everyone in hearing range of their triad of Song is OUT. Possibly farther, given Annatar is very familiar with Angband and is, again, very motivated.

Celebrimbor doesn't join the Singing, he's their reserve. The three most powerful Singers are throwing their everything at Morgoth, someone's got to stay at full strength just in case.

But it goes WELL. And Morgoth doesn't wake even as Beren climbs the throne and hauls the entire crown off of his head, and down into the waiting arms of Celebrimbor, who slings the whole thing over his head and arm like a kid with a hula hoop.

Then, since Angband is as silent as a grave around them, Annatar initiates a SIDE QUEST.

And he and Celebrimbor go for where they keep the blasting powder.

Annatar stops for a moment and gently, regretfully, slits a sleeping Carcharoth's throat. Carcharoth was a monster, yes, but he was a monster Sauron gladly created, and Annatar will not leave his death to someone else's hands as long as he's there.

All the orcs within hearing are very dead. I'm- not sure if all the thralls within hearing would be too? I like to think Annatar could show/guide Luthien and Finrod into some more precision with their Song than they might ordinarily have, and only the slaves that were fully twisted into servants of Morgoth (aka the kind of thralls that Morgoth would free himself as traps to be sprung by caring people) or those just too wounded in body and soul to make it out (imagining that there's quite a few of those bc Angband is TERRIBLE and sliding into sleep and into the freedom of death a thing many there would WANT).

Annatar and Tyelpe free the living and leave the dead.

And then they start rolling barrels of blasting powder to the throne room, some of the newly released thralls helping probably. I imagine helping to blow up the place you've been enslaved and tormented in is actually fairly therapeutic. (None of the former thralls go into the throne room tho. I think none of them are in a mindset for that).

Annatar carefully directs everyone on where to place the barrels. He built Angband, he knows what corners will yield the most structural damage.

Beyond just breaking things for the sake of breaking things, there's a REASON he's making sure to shatter the place after they leave.

Morgoth was toweringly, VICIOUSLY FURIOUS at the theft of the ONE Silmaril. Annatar remembers. And this time, they're taking all three.

They all need to buy the rest of Beleriand as much time as POSSIBLE before he comes after the Silmarils. Because he will.

They've killed a chunk of his available army. They've blackened his eyes. This will slow him down, but not stop him. Because it's MORGOTH.

They're pretty fast all told, even with the injured, they're well away from Angband by the time there's a remarkably impressive explosion and at least half of Angband crumbles in on itself and the dark clouds above the destroyed fortress start boiling and the ground trembles with the sheer force of Morgoths rage.

They pick up the pace a bit. (And wrap each of the Silmarils in cloth, no need to make any more of a target on their backs.)

While all this was happening, please imagine Frodo and Idrahil waiting awkwardly with the dozen and a half horses they scrounged up (Did they steal them from Sauron? Did Luthien and Annatar and Finrod summon them like Disney princesses? IDK).

Frodo is a bit miffed at being left behind, but he's practical. He knows he's too new in this body to help, and too awkward in his scavenged boots to be able to run (I am absolutely picturing him walking as awkwardly as a dog in snow booties. You KNOW the walk I'm talking about). He can't feel the GROUND, it's WEIRD.

And this is when Curufin and Celegorm catch up.

They have been several days behind Celebrimbor since the start (again, blurring the distances a bit. They're elves from Valinor, we'll assume they can boost their travel time with Song as long as it's just them and their horses and not a whole party?) but with the Quest Party taking time to craft a decent plan, scrounge up enough horses and all, they had time to close the distance some.

Anyway, they focus immediately on Idrahil, and are probably kind of nasty about demanding to know where the hell Celebrimbor is.

Celeg: and Huan!

Curufin: would you SHUT UP about the DAMN DOG?!?!

Because Celeg has, in true annoying sibling fashion, NOT shut up about how offended he is that Huan let himself be dognapped.

Frodo, having known both of these elves for a while, unthinkingly breaks in to the interrogation.

Frodo: I BEG your pardon. Is that how you were raised, to just walk into a clearing and start yelling? What would your mother say!

Curufin and Celegorm probably kind of- freeze? Because I don't think that kind of reproachful tone is one they've heard directed at them innnn, hmm, well, since they left Valinor actually?

And Frodo is in a body that was created out of Celebrimbor. And Annatar. And possibly also a bit of Finrod too tbh (because why not?). Point being, *slaps down money* whatcha wanna bet he sounds an awful lot like Feanor and/or Finwe vocally now? Same scolding tone and EVERYTHING.

So, Idrahil is FORGOTTEN, and both raggedy sons of Feanor turn to the elf they'd noted but otherwise dismissed.

And that is VERY much Finwe's nose. And those eyebrows and cheekbones. And the twisting disapproval on those lips is a CARBON COPY of Nerdanel's 'you have disappointed me' frown. The hair isn't recognizable, it's red but not Mahtanian red, but the HAIR CLIP IS.

*flash back to day one of Silmaril Heist planning*

Frodo: *shoving annoyingly long magma red curls out of his face for the umpteenth time* >:(

Celebrimbor: here, let me? *gestures*

Frodo: ... Alright.

Celebrimbor: *quickly travel braids Frodo's hair and clips it with one of his own hair clips*

XDDD

Anyway, instant assumptions are made. Frodo denies EVERYTHING. This, in the face of, well, his new face, doesn't work at all.

The awkward wait is suddenly SO much more awkward. RIP Idrahil, you do not deserve this awkward tableau.

Thank ERU that the ground rumbles a few hours later, and the next morning in the pre-dawn light several hundred freed thralls crest a hill lead by our intrepid heroes!

Celebrimbor is Singing strength and speed and endurance! He was the reserve, remember? And give the way the other three were able to share the burden of singing Morgoth to sleep, they're helping too, in shifts. And hopefully they've got another few days to get more distance between them and Angband before Morgoth can muster any party to go after them.

Celebrimbor: *relieved to see Frodo in the distance* *squinting* *mentally so he doesn't have to stop Singing* wait... is that my FATHER???

Annatar: *scowls at the unmistakable sight* oh WONDERFUL.

Finrod: *makes a face* well, you DID take Huan. You know how Celeg is about Huan. And how your father is about YOU. Did you even leave a note?

Huan: *rumbling doggy sneeze-scoff*

Celebrimbor: *incredulous osanwe* a NOTE?!?! Exactly what was I supposed to say? 'dear ada, gone to help Beren steal a Silmaril, I'll be fine, no need to chase after?'

Luthien: Are they really that bad?

The irony is not lost on the three time travelers, and Celebrimbor has to wrestle down the urge to break into slightly hysterical laughter and interrupt his Song before they reach the little camp.

Finrod, it not being his shift to Sing, has no such reason and is still giggling helplessly when they lead everyone into the scraggly scrub and boulders on the edge of Angband.

[chthonion]

Late to get to this because of migraines but it is INCREDIBLE ONCE AGAIN

Honestly this is SO narratively satisfying. Angband jailbreak time, LET'S GO

I am absolutely imagining Annatar being like "YEAH NOW YOU KNOW HOW I FELT" at Frodo being weirded out by a new body. XD

Also absolutely losing it at the image of Frodo, wearing a face and a voice that clearly got SOMETHING from the line of Finwe, snapping at Celegorm and Curufin. On the bright side, they have been distracted. Unfortunately poor Frodo will now be subjected to periodic questions by people who will absolutely not believe his answers.

Luthien and Celebrimbor are about to bond over having unreasonable fathers. I feel it in my BONES.

[aniseandspearmint]

I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY. (No worries about a later reply, the human body sometimes sucks! Especially all the many and varied ways heads can become PAIN. I get frequent bouts of eye strain. That occasionally last weeks.)

PART 5 of Annatar and Celebrimbor and Finrod and Frodo winging a time travel fix it! (this one ended up a bit more dialogue heavy)

So, nothing for it, everyone files into the little area between giant strewn boulders that Idrahil and Frodo have made into a camp. It gets VERY crowded very fast.

Idrahil is VERY relieved and immediately goes to Finrod to report.

He's a bit thrown by the large crowd of ragged Elves and Edain and even a few Dwarves, but he's gonna roll with it. (Picture the other nine of Finrod's followers in among the former thralls, each helping along someone who needed some support, maybe carrying a kid or a baby or two, because of course there were children in Angband *makes a face*)

Idrahil, hopefully: Did it go well, my lord?

Finrod: Oh Very! Celebrimbor has them!

He tips his head at the iron ring slung around Celebrimbor's head and arm. A large iron ring with three conspicuous cloth wrapped spires laying down his back.

Idrahil glances over to the elf lord slowly making his way through the milling crowd towards his father and uncle, Huan trotting behind him, and Annatar trailing after with a mildly aggrieved expression on his face.

Idrahil: Wait- ALL OF THEM?!?!?

Finrod beams like a child that stole an entire cookie jar.

_

Celebrimbor, for his part, hands over maintaining a hum of Song to a rested Luthien, rolls his shoulders back and heads for his father. Better get this over with. :/

Frodo is near by, sitting on a smaller oblong boulder. Annatar breaks off and drops down beside him, brushing shoulders.

Frodo: It went well then?

Annatar: Mmmm, better than we'd hoped. You?

Frodo: *makes a face* Curufin and Celegorm showed up the evening after you left. They're CERTAIN I'm related to them SOMEHOW. And now with you back it'll only be a little while before the make the same assumptions everyone ELSE is making in regards to you, Celebrimbor, and me. They keep asking me where I got my hair clip.

Annatar: *grumbling sigh* Oh they've definitly made assumptions about you and Celebrimbor already *grumbling stomach*

Frodo: Hah *small smile*

Frodo passes Annatar a square of waybread. He makes a face, less over the task of eating now, more for what are clearly weevil bore holes through out the little square. He nibbles on it.

Before them, Celebrimbor comes to a stop in front of Curufin, who immediately dives into furious questions, covering his terror at the thought of his child in Angband with his usual bluster and fury. It might have hurt Celebrimbor once, having accusations of treason of family flung in his face, but he knows his father better now, they'd talked enough in Aman.

Curufin: What were you THINKING, you KNOW what Morgoth is capable of-

Celebrimbor, interrupting: Ada. Ada, I am FINE. I am HERE. We are all- well perhaps not SAFE, but safER and whole.

He hesitates for a moment. Then-

Celebrimbor: We did it.

He spins the crown he's wearing across his chest around until the wrapped silmarils are arrayed on his collar bone, stomach, and hip, roughly.

There's a moment of blankness on Curufin's face, as the words hit. Celebrimbor can SEE the slow dawn of the meaning hit his father like the sun rising, a wild and vicious hope blooming to life.

Curufin: That's. Those are. Tyelpe, what did you DO?!?!

Celebrimbor: I'll explain. WE will explain. I promise. But we need to get as far away from Angband before we do, alright? We're too close.

Curufin probably thinks about arguing, but- Angband IS RIGHT THERE. They need to get the Silmarils (Eru beyond, silmarils silmarils SILMARILS ALL OF THEM) as far away as the can. As well as several hundred thin and injured people. So instead of demanding to lay hands on his father's creations Right This Second he-

Curufin: *nodding sharply* Right. An hours rest, and then to Himring?

Celebrimbor having expected an argument, blinks in surprise.

Celebrimbor: I- it's far... I thought perhaps Gondolin?

Curufin: *sniffs* Only if you know where Turgon build the damn place!

Celebrimbor: Ah well-

Curufin: ?!?!?!

lols, sorry Curufin today, and probably the next YEAR are gonna be a series of rolling shocks!

It took me a while to decide where they should go after they break Angband and go for cover, actually. Gondolin is technically closer, but it's a closed environment, and full of many MANY people who don't like Feanorians. Also, Annatar has yet to confront any of the fuckery that went down with Gondolin in The Harrowing (not unexpected, there's SO MANY regretful and terrible things he was responsible for and he's been alive for less than two weeks. I assume that you'll get to it!), and I don't want to make up things that won't fit!

So I decided to go with the next closest military outpost is Himring. It's not going to be easy to get there, but more than one of their group knows ways through the area.

Beren for instance, since they're gonna need to go through the edges of Dorthonion! Bet he knows all SORTS of goat trails through the mountains thereabouts.

Annatar's got knowledge of enemy encampments that will still be reasonably accurate, and they've got four strong Singers, maybe six depending on how much Curufin and Celegorm can be convinced to help (which will be a LOT, once they know the whole story. Also, SILMARILS! and FAMILY! They're speaking of Celebrimbor and Frodo of course, not Finrod. They're still dicks after all).

It's gonna be a hard, fast paced slog through dangerous territory with a LOT of walking wounded, but they'll manage.

Also, there's a kind of tacit agreement among everyone that the Silmarils should go to Maedhros first. Even Beren and Luthien don't disagree (they want some time to think, now that they have accomplished what Thingol demanded, and contemplate what Annatar said about the whole thing).

Okay, the next bit. Side bit. That's happening while Celebrimbor is speaking with his father.

Annatar and Frodo are not actually paying much attention to that, because THEIR attention is focused on watching the (to them) one sided conversation happening between Celegorm and Huan.

It starts like this;

Huan ambles over to Celegorm and plonks his butt down in front of Celegorm, eye to eye. Celegorm glowers.

Celegorm: Don't give me that look, traitor. I can't BELIEVE you ran off with Tyelpe! How could you let him within a MILE of that place! *stabs a finger towards Angband* And joining up with THEM! *stabs a finger at Beren and Luthien*

Huan: *unimpressed sneeze*

Celegorm: I can't BELIEVE you went hunting with OTHER PEOPLE. We're supposed to be a TEAM!

Huan: *shifts his eyebrows and boofs lowly*

Celegorm: *gasps* I CARED! I CARE! I can't believe- we were trying to keep Finrod from getting everyone KILLED not-

Huan: *rumbles deep in his chest and lays back his eats a little*

Celegorm: ... Okay, yeah, maybe some of it was spite. But that doesn't mean-

Huan: *another sneeze, a louder boof, a low whine*

Celegorm: Oh. I didn't know you felt like that. I- haven't been listening to you as much anymore, have I?

Huan: *ears shift forward, tale wags a little, kicking up a bit of dust*

Celegorm: *reaches out with both hands to cradle Huan's head and rub at his ear pockets* I'm sorry. I should have-

His voice drops too low for his peanut gallery of two to catch the rest.

Frodo: .... I possibly didn't give the historical relationship between them the correct context.

Annatar: *flicks a weevil out of his waybread cracker* Mmmhmm, it does seem much deeper than any of the historical texts said, doesn't it?

Frodo: It reminds me when Daisy Wicker from two lanes down walked out of her and Corriham's smial one day and moved back in with her mum and da. I swear Corriham said nearly the same thing when he went to beg her back.

Annatar: *snickers*

XD

They obviously make it through the mountains. Frodo gets better at moving in an Elven body. It's wearing away at the mental shelf though tbh, but they're still very much NOWHERE safe for a breakdown, so Frodo soldiers on. He does have experience soldiering on through treacherous mountains and enemy territory after all. It's all very nostalgic. In an awful sort of way. Yaaaay PTSD, ammirite?

Through the Magic of having 4 strong singers, and 15 very capable warriors, plus however many of the former thralls that are strong enough to fight, and Beren knowing some nice short cuts, they probably even make good time! (i am not even gonna GUESS how long it would take to get through those mountains tho. idk.)

Through their journey, Angband continues to storm and smoke and tremble.

Celegorm: *sarcasm* So, how long d'you think it'll be til Morgoth manages to send a dragon or two after us?

Annatar: Oh a 1000 years or so, I expect.

Everyone in earshot: *eyeing Annatar* ???????

Annatar: There was a REASON we piled a great deal of the blasting powder along the walls of the throne room, and the halls around it. It wasn't ALL to bury Morgoth. The incubation chambers, and the sleeping den of the dragons was directly below it. :3

Finrod: :D

Celebrimbor: *heart eyes*

Celegorm: *cackles*

Curufin: *very very grudgingly* Alright maybe you aren't the worst.

Annatar: The eggs were certainly destroyed. And if not all, then MOST of the dragons should've been killed or maimed enough they won't be able to follow. Morgoth and Sauron- *regretful disdainful twist of his lips* will have to likely start over completely if they want dragons again. And breeding giant, firebreathing, intelligent creatures up from base stock like lizards takes time even for a vala.

(I am ABSOLUTELY picturing Curufin and Celegorm and Finrod and Celebrimbor recognizing some of the freed thralls as they journey btw. Beren might too, if any of the captives drug from Dorthonion survived long enough. And surely there are people from Doriath too. Luthien wasn't expecting that.)

They cross into Maedhros's territory fairly soon.

Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE took note of something stirring up Angband. All the lands of free peoples are flailing with NOT KNOWING WHATS GOING ON.

There's been SOME information out of Nargothrond. They (Fingon and Maedhros) know that Finrod left with Beren, and about Celegorm and Curufin's successful coup, and then Celebrimbor vanishing in the night with Huan, and Curufin and Celegorm tearing after them, but that's it.

And given *gestures at the Doom and Beleriand in general* all THAT, they've assumed the worst. Hard NOT to right?

So Maedhros has arrayed an army not too far in from the border that faces Angband.

Fingon sent all the extra people to Himring that he could, knowing that whatever is going on Himring would likely be hit first. Then he stewed bc he couldn't justify going himself.

They are prepared as much as they can for whatever horrors are crawling forth from Angband.

They've been getting bands of orcs here and there, but no explanations.

And then scouts finally bring Maedhros word that something strange has crossed the pass of Aglon into the foothills.

Maedhros the Ever Tired: Well, what is it?

Scout: We're not sure my Lord! There's powerful Song in it, surrounding it in mist and shadow, and we could not see past the effect. Only that it's large. It's here now *points to a spot on the map* We're keeping a distance as you ordered.

Maedhros: Right. *mutters* Of course we can't tell. Why would any of this be easy?

And on the move they go! Maedhros and Maglor take a contingent of a few hundred soldiers and head for the spot.

The scout spoke truly. Slowly rolling into the hills is a vast thick mist, with shadows flickering within. Whatever it is, it rolls to an abrupt halt when Maedhros and Maglor crest a hill above it, and writhes for a moment.

And then before either can draw breath to shout a warning and question the shadows fade, and the mist begins to burn away. Everyone readies weapons.

Maglor: Wait *squinting* Are those- people?

Maedhros: Is that-

Maglor: Of all the- *shouting* FINROD!!! IS THAT YOU?!?!?

Whatever they were expecting, it was NOT Finrod Felagund walking ahead of a VERY motley group with a nis Maedhros would guess was Luthien Tinuviel, and someone he has no idea of with a shock of the brightest red hair he's ever seen. And his nephew. He is SO relieved Celebrimbor is alive. (He's smart, he read between the lines in Orodreth's letter and could extrapolate Celebrimbor and Huan likely went).

And from the back of the crowd two figures astride a familiar large hound wave. Their brothers. (Maedhros will yell at them later. They're alive to murder, and that's the important thing).

[chthonion]

I have been out of commission with migraines but do not think I have forgotten

The "oh shit oh shit having all of the Silmarils is not a safe position to be in for many reasons" vibes are really starting to come through here. I feel a certain amount of dread. XD There are Feanorians, and Thingol, and Morgoth, and IT'S A LOT OKAY

I also have feelings about poor Frodo trudging onward, feeling the echoes of Bad Stuff in his unfamiliar bones, and Annatar probably watching him and feeling the dissonance in the back of his head and knowing there's going to be a reckoning with the stuff Frodo is putting off but they don't dare have it yet--oof.

Thank god Annatar's face is not recognizably Sauron to Maedhros. Imagine being Maedhros and seeing a giant crowd of people arrive headed by several of your family members and Sauron. But also--this means someone has to tell him.

Actually, given how definitive this defection is, with all the explosives and stuff, I wonder if Celebrimbor's going to have to put in an effort to prevent Maedhros from just absconding with Annatar to pick his brain for every strategic detail he can remember or extrapolate for like twenty-four hours straight.

(Putting in the effort is important because that shared mental shelf is wearing thin and possibly once they are in Himring it will be reckoning time...)

Annatar: There was a REASON we piled a great deal of the blasting powder along the walls of the throne room, and the halls around it. It wasn't ALL to bury Morgoth. The incubation chambers, and the sleeping den of the dragons was directly below it. :3 Finrod: :D Celebrimbor: *heart eyes*

I want you to know that I am imagining Finrod giving the most sunny and joyous smile here. That's my friend! He did that!!!

[aniseandspearmint]

Okay, apparently it was MY turn for the horrible head pain bc i just spent the better part of the last few days knocked over with a combination tension/eyestrain related mess. Ugh.

I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS THO

Part 6 under the cut

There has been SUCH an under current of 'we have Morgoth's ENTIRE crown and we just dropped a MOUNTAIN on his HEAD and the pretty redhead killed all his favorite pets' throughout the entire group of intrepid (winging it) heroes and escaped thralls. Who also don't know Annatar was Sauron yet. Like Team Time Travel isn't hiding it precisely, they're just not mentioning it! And neither are Finrod's ten. It's too weird and they're too deep in enemy territory to deal with any freak outs, okay?

Even with resting and alternating Singers everyone is pretty hecking tired. Maedhros and Maglor are weak in the knees relieved to see them, but the feeling is mutual. If those two are up on the ridge, that means these are the foothills that surround Himring and they're all that much safer.

(Curufin and Celegorm are staying at the back of the line, because thats too many characters to juggle, also they are hiding. Not that they would admit that, but. Yeah. Maedhros is gonna be MA-AD and they're waiting to see if 'yay silmarils!' softens that ass-kicking they're gonna get)

Maedhros is a paranoid bastard though (fond) and of course he insists on riding down alone briefly, just to make sure this isn't some incredibly convoluted trap.

Which, yeah, not a surprise to any of the little vanguard. They know him after all, even if he doesn't know all of them! (I'm sure Luthien has heard enough not to be surprised).

Finrod takes a few steps ahead of the rest. He meets with Maedhros first, with Mae leaning down and speaking softly with him for a few tense moments (There are ARCHERS positioned in the hills above them. Annatar's itchy neck and full knowledge of Maedhros as a friend and ally and once enemy says so) before he abruptly sits up and makes to dismount, waving his handless arm in a circular motion that has Maglor whooping joyfully and sending his own horse clattering down the steep incline.

Finrod waves the others forward. Maedhros is busy grilling Finrod as they approach.

Maedhros: -appened, we got a letter out of Nargothrond. Orodreth was cagey but- my idiot brothers, is it true they-

Finrod: Oh YES. And it very nearly got me eaten, yes. *huff of sardonic laughter* I won't object to seeing you tear them to bits over that honestly, but later. We have other problems.

Maedhros: *mouth a thin pressed line* Orodreth danced around why you would walk to your doom with a handful of loyal retainers and an edain, but someone else slipped in a note with the missive. I-

Maglor: *thundering up, kicking up dust, and butting in* A SILMARIL INGOLDO?!?!! ARE YOU ENTIRELY INSANE! Even at your strongest! Even with the bloody PRINCESS of DORIATH- pardon me, my lady, no offense meant *dips his chin to Luthien*

Luthien: *bemused* None taken?

Maglor: *swinging down off his horse to drag Finrod into a bone crushing hug* THAT YOU GOT OUT WITH YOUR LIVES IS AN ERU GIVEN MIRACLE.

Annatar: *mutters to Celebrimbor* as good a guess as any. *Celebrimbor stifles a slightly hysterical giggle*

Maedhros: *grimly* Well it's plain to see you got in at least. Couldn't get to the silmarils so you took his slaves instead? I don't think your father will think the substitution of equal value, Princess Luthien.

Luthien: *looks over towards Annatar and Celebrimbor a question in the angle of her eyebrows and ears*

Celebrimbor: *grinning at his uncles brightly and drumming his fingertips along the wide band of iron he is STILL wearing across himself* About that.

And Maedhros KNOWS THAT BAND OF IRON.

Morgoth never took it off. Maedhros could draw it's likeness with his eyes closed, it's been seared into his memory (literally even, given the way the scent of his own flesh burning accompanied the memories just as much as the searing brightness of the silmarils does).

He just stares, eyes wide, hand that had been laying on his saddle in easy view suddenly gripping the leather so hard it's creaking. (maedhros.exe has stopped working please turn device off and on again and retry)

Maglor doesn't have his brothers familiarity with Morgoth's crown that Maedhros does. But he's from a family that prides itself on quick deductions.

Maglor: Thats-

Maglor Feanorion is at a complete loss for words. He's just staring at the three cloth wrapped bundles laying along Celebrimbor's torso.

Maedhros: *the slightest waiver in his voice* The. The note we received said One-

Finrod: *gently* Well, we were there, and he was VERY unconscious. In for one, in for three, cousin.

Celebrimbor: And then we got into the blasting powder and made sure there wouldn't be any kind of pursuit any time soon. But we all hurried all the same.

Luthien: *hmmming thoughtfully* This has Changed Things. *her words carry a bit of reverb* Rather a lot, i think. But here isn't the place for speaking about it I don't think?

Annatar: She's right. We need to keep moving. Himring?

Maedhros: *snapping out of the shock* What? Ah. Ye-es.

Maglor: *squinting* I'm sorry, but WHO are you? We know Finrod and Tyelpe, and Luthien can't be anyone but herself, but I don't recall any great Singers of elven kind with YOUR particular description.

Celebrimbor: *cutting in before Annatar can speak* This is Annatar. I know him. Finrod knows him. He means well and has out complete trust and confidence. *meets his uncles eyes directly* I'll even swear an Oath on it, if you'd like.

Maglor: *sharp piercing negative sound (the kind you make when your dog is lunging for a bit of not safe for pets food you dropped)* TYELPE I will wash your mouth out with soap-!

After a bit more talking to hash out logistics, the train starts moving again (Curufin was the one maintaining the strength that is keeping everyone on their feet this time. They can't afford to let it lapse now, bc once it does it's NOT going to be possible to get it going again without weeks of rest. I'm picturing something akin to a continuous round song? Like Row Your Boat only SO much more complicated and magical)

Frodo stayed out of sight. He's not quite got the same knack for it he once did, as a hobbit, but he's good enough that as long as he keeps his new signal flare hair up and covered, he just looks like another grubby travel worn body in the mass. He'll deal with seeing Maedhros and Maglor once they get to where they can stop.

(*shelf starts creaking ominously*)

You are ABSOLUTELY correct that Frodo is hanging onto NOT breaking down with his fingernails at this point.

He can't break down until they're safe he can't he can't he can't-

So of course, being FRODO and made of stuff that made Sauron hit a brick wall, he manages!

They get to Himring! Maedhros sent word on ahead, not about the silmarils of course, but about Finrod and a throng of escaped thralls he vouched for.

There's a lot of running around as Maedhros barks orders at various people and runners bolt off in various directions. The keep healers are there, and quick pavilions have been set up in the main hall, spare clothing is being doled out, and soap, and the people are being directed at tents with as much warm water as could be brought heated as to not be freezing, and food is being dished out on tables that had been pushed to the far side of the hall.

It's easy for Frodo to fade into the back of the clamoring group, dip around where Curufin and Celegorm are scanning the crowd- and into a doorway that Frodo thinks probably leads to- ah yes, stairs.

He's up on the battlements peering down at the milling crowd still in the courtyard a few moments later. Annatar will know where he is. This way he's out from under foot, the injured can be seen to without him being a distraction the minute someone sees him with Annatar and Celebrimbor there for comparison. He slides down the wall, ignoring the rough texture and hugs his knees.

And- well he's just kind of numb, and not just from the evening breeze starting to nip colder on his cheeks.

He examines his hands, the fingers longer and thinner than he's used to, but proportionally, well matched to the rest of him. He should be able to do calligraphy like he used to, right? (AN: WAIT, heck, would Frodo be missing his finger? would that be like Maedhros keeping the scars he did? I HAVE NO IDEA)

It will take some practice is all.

He'd wondered sometimes, especially after Annatar came back into life, what it might be like to be an elf. If it would feel very much different than being a hobbit.

It does and it doesn't. This body is his. He breathes and functions and LIVES in it, not seamlessly, but certainly with less trouble than Annatar had at first. Benefits from going from mortal flesh to mortal flesh he supposes. There is a difference, not one he thinks he can fully put into words yet, but it's not just in the odd length of him now, and how easy it is to over reach or step. It's something in his bones (and something in his soul).

The breeze pulls a curl of red out of his braids. He quickly tucks it out of sight behind an ear but it's too late, he's been reminded.

The hair. And the new face. And the assumptions people made, that- well, might not be accurate at all, but were also not inaccurate if what Annatar thought might've happened, had happened.

It wasn't even a terrible family to be a part of really, though he knew many who might fervently disagree. He liked the Feanorions. The rest of the Finweans too. And well, he's already been closer than blood to Annatar, in a way. But-

There are footsteps on stone. Frodo glances at the doorway beside him.

Finrod peers down at him, two deep wooden plates in his hands.

Frodo: Food?

Finrod: mmhmm, the keeps cooks had massive pots going already, from Maedhros sending word on ahead. I grabbed some before it was all doled out. Annatar mentioned where he thought you must be. Some kind of chicken stew I think, with dumplings?

He hands it down and falls into a graceful crosslegged seat across from Frodo

Frodo: *wane smile* It's easy, and you can feed several hundred surprise guests quickly and well.

He sniffs the stew. It smells good. Nearly identical to the kind Bilbo would make on cold winter days as far as he can tell, except there's no potatoes. Actually, he's somewhat sure potatoes don't exist quite yet? Or, not in Beleriand at least?

Oh.

He- he's not going to see Bilbo again is he? Or Sam, or Merry, or Pippin, or Aragorn... This, this is the First Age. He's sitting on a battlement in Himring, in sunken Beleriand, and he's an elf.

He takes a bite of the food, distract, distract- and oh boy, that was the wrong thing to do.

I dunno about YOU all, but I figure as much as food is a sense memory to humans, it's got to be extra so to hobbits. And to steal blatantly from Doctor Who here, Frodo has a new mouth.

He could ignore it when it was weevil-y way bread stolen from orc supply caches and unseasoned game caught on the move and cooked fast, but this is a chicken stew with dumplings, vegetables he knows, and spices that smell familiar even, and it tastes so different. It's not bad. It's good even! But it's different. And that's the last straw.

Yeah. THIS would be when it all hits.

Finrod was waiting. He was pretty sure it was gonna be SOON, and so was Annatar when he told him where Frodo was.

Finrod catches the plate before Frodo can drop it and sets it aside with his own.

Frodo: *crying* It- it's- i can't- It's stupid, it's just stew wh-y am i c-

Finrod just opens his arms and lets Frodo reach for him, then scoops him up the rest of the way into his lap and lets him cry.

[chthonion]

So over a year ago, aniseandspearmint and I were riffing on this, and I was having an AMAZING time, and enjoying it SO much. And then my eyes rapidly and mysteriously started to fail me, and all of a sudden it was all I could do to walk from point A to point B, let alone do anything else. I was using screenreaders and memory to edit the Harrowing. I was blindfolding myself to make it through seminars and car trips. I was trying to figure out how to make dinner in the dark.

And then just as I was slowly recovering from the Eye Curse, I wrecked my ankle and got slammed with a whole new category of mobility problems.

I dropped a lot of balls during that time, and this was one of them, and I never came back to it (even though I definitely wanted to) because I was filled with guilt and sadness about all the things I lost while my eyes were attacking me.

But ultimately that meant I also never reblogged this addition, which is a shame, because it was awesome when I first saw it from the depths of Eye Curse Hell, and it is also awesome every time I look at it again. So: I'm going to thumb my nose at the disability shame and reblog it now, even though it's been more than a year, because good things are still good even if I'm late.

Thanks, @aniseandspearmint. It's so good, and it brings me joy.

Also, oh man. Even though I've been in my guilt about this for a while--it's so cool to go back and enjoy it with fresh eyes, this whole thing is so awesome, I love it so much.

Should Maedhros, famous victim of an ambush, be going out alone to meet the possible problem? Absolutely not. Is this totally in character? Absolutely. Also, Maedhros is having the Most Day of All Time.

Losing my mind laughing (again) (repeatedly in fact) at Celebrimbor being like "I will swear an oath", in front of THIS FAMILY, probably knowing FULL WELL that the answer will be a frantic NO.

But most importantly!!! Aaaaaaa Frodo my beloved

He gets hugs! He gets to cry about it! This is so hard and weird and scary!

It will probably come as no surprise that after spending so long coming to terms with the fact that my body just doesn't work the same anymore, I have an excess of emotions about Frodo not being able to expect the same things from his body anymore. The uncertainty, and the strangeness, and the frustration--yes good. (For me as a reader. Bad for Frodo.)

[hosseinis]

the thing about the mummy movies is that you really spend most of the time thinking "wow brendan fraser's character is so cool" or "man oded fehr is so mysterious and heroic" when the fact of the matter is that these two

are the absolute most batshit insane heroes in the entire franchise

these two are intellectual loner siblings with archeology backgrounds who read and speak ancient egyptian, hire a dude directly out of prison to take them to a lost city of gold, and fight mummies literally with their bare hands. twice.

no one in these movies stands a chance against the carnahans. frankly they're lethal in how willing they are to make the absolute and most undeniably deranged decisions. jonathan pickpockets a dude on fire. evy's resurrected from the dead and immediately remembers how to use sai. they're racking shotguns from a cliff in this scene and then proceed to blow away half the antagonists.

rick and ardeth should be so lucky

[rox-and-prose]

The only step we can take is the next one

[sgam76]

Here, hold my hand--we can take it together.

[18thcenturythirsttrap]

Prevent the DWP scrutinising disabled people's bank accounts

Add your name:

Yes, having opposed Conservative plans for surveillance of the bank accounts of benefits claimants, now they're in government Labour's ableist ghouls have decided to put these proposals back on the table.

This would basically mean anyone claiming benefits - disabled people, people in low-paid and insecure employment, pensioners - would be treated as a likely criminal. Our bank accounts would be subject to surveillance. The discriminatory and invasive nature of these proposals should be clear to anyone. Labour's bottom line is, if you're disabled, if you're elderly and in need, if you're poor, you're suspect.

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[idratherhavefreedom]