Weasley liked being an Auror very, very much. There were several perks to the
job: the fact that he got to work with Harry, its active and fast-paced nature,
the fact that he felt he was doing something that contributed to society in a
positive way. The generous salary was another bonus, he couldn’t deny that. But
the number one reason Ron Weasley liked being an Auror was that there was no
documentation for the cases they worked on was far too sensitive to be taken
outside of approved locations within the Ministry, and so although there were
far too many long and boring hours writing up endless reports, this didn’t have
to be done in his free time. He didn’t mind working hard, but he did hate the
idea of his leisure time being filled with work, too.
were trade-offs, of course: nightshifts; endless hours of surveillance where he
had to remain totally still and quiet for hours on end; a big case coming in
and resulting in all leave being cancelled, and extended hours in the office
with barely any time to eat or sleep. But, watching Hermione make her way
through caseload after caseload, doing another six, seven or even eight hours
of work at home after a full day in the chambers made him very, very grateful
for the lack of something similar.
night, he wasn’t watching Hermione work. This was because she was entirely
hidden behind huge piles of books, and only the fact that he could see her feet
(resting on Crookshanks) under the desk and hear the occasional sigh of
exasperation let him know she was still there. It was, he reflected, a
particular shame, because the books blocked her view of the Christmas tree he’d
purchased on the way home from work, which was currently standing in the corner
of the room with two boxes next to it, waiting to be decorated.
may still have been early December—too early, really, to put up the tree—but he
was determined it was going to be done tonight. Not really out of any extreme
fit of festive spirit, but because it would stop Hermione from killing herself
with work for…oh, maybe half an hour.
You can attend wonderfully informative panels like this at DashCon:
DashCon claimed there would be 3,000-7,000 attendees. There are 1,000 at most and all of them are white kids in flower crowns who are rioting for the anti-sexualization of women in media while simultaneously running panels about “homoerotic subtext in fandoms and finding the gay ships for YOUR fandoms!!!”
DashCon proves they have possibly the worst PR team ever when addressing the WTNV cancellation. Instead of clearly explaining the situation, they say they “don’t want to get into it,” and then offer compensation for those who bought advanced seating tickets for the Night Vale show. What’s the compensation? An extra hour playing in the ball pit (which is really just a slowly-deflating children’s pool with some balls in it). Oh, and if there’s room, you may get one of the first-come-first-serve spots at the Time Crash concert that was happening on Saturday night. Huzzah!
Most panels are completely disorganized. The “Name That Anime” panel was even handing out hotel mints as prizes for correctly answering questions like “what’s the anime where they fight with clothes!!!”
It’s been pointed out that as a Marriott hotel, the Renaissance would have required them to submit their full reservation payment 5 days in advance of the event. Therefore it’s very, very likely that the “$17,000 fundraising” was a huge scam. Because DashCon would’ve had to pay that money 5 days before this weekend or the event wouldn’t even be happening in the first place.
Furthermore, someone attempted to debunk the letter that DashCon posted to prove that the hotel asked for money. Not all their points are valid (i.e. “RE:” is commonly used for “Regarding”, not just in response to previous communication, and idk but this dude doesn’t strike me as an expert on internal Marriott stationary), but frankly the letter looks sketchy if only because 17000% 99% of it is whited out. Is it real? Is it fake? We just don’t know.
There has been no confirmation that the money donated in cash and via PayPal last night ever made it to the hotel (if that was indeed where it was intended to go).
People are demanding full or at least partial refunds. Needs verification, but purportedly DashCon has a list at the con where you can sign your name and the amount you donated to be refunded later. Which sounds like a totally effective and not at all easily-abused system. [Verified: x]
And as a bonus: DashCon originally ran an IndieGoGo campaign last year to raise $5,000 to start their convention. They raised $4,000. The campaign ended in April 2013 and rewards have still not been sent out (which consisted of tea bags, a couple business cards with your Tumblr URL on them, and if you donated $500+, some knick-knacks from Etsy), which leads us to…
In this post from 11 months ago, con head Megg33k explains that they had “rented out the vast majority of their convention space and set aside nearly every room in their hotel” and that there was a “legally binding contract and the exchange of money.” They also signed a contract and had “monetary obligation” in regards to Steam Powered Giraffe, so I’m curious as to how that appearance fell apart. She also states that Doug Jones was paid in advance, so he should at least be good for appearing on Sunday (if he hasn’t already skedaddled, that is).
Another witness account describes how DashCon “collected money in a bag” during the $17,000 debacle. They also took names on an email list to issue WTNV refunds at a later date. Who wants to take bets that said refund never happens?
This video shows the moment when it was announced that WTNV left the convention.
People are debating whether or not out-of-state businesses require an Illinois LLP to operate within Illinois, or if they only have to pay a $500 registration fee (which we have no confirmation of DashCon doing so).
The act of offering extra play time in the ball pit as compensation for the WTNV tickets could easily turn into another lawsuit, as they did not originally charge an entrance fee for the ball pit, therefore giving it no comparable monetary worth to compensate for the purchase of event tickets.