retire in peace



The Inquisition horsemaster Dennet was born to Redcliffe, a farmer’s son who cared little for iron but loved the horses his father shod. At a young age, he accompanied his father to Redcliffe’s stables, where his father was the check the hooves of the arl’s horses. A still-green stallion broke free from his handlers and would have trampled a serving girl had Dennet not stepped up beside it and calmed it with a few soothing words. Upon seeing this, Redcliffe’s horsemaster promptly took Dennet in as his apprentice. The boy grew up tending horses and helping children of the noble family learn to ride. 

Dennet became Redcliffe’s horsemaster after his predecessor died from a mysterious wailing illness that spread from a horse he was treating. It was Dennet who determined that the horse, who’d returned to the stable with cuts in its flank and its rider missing, had wounds infected by the blight. His prompt action saved the other mounts and stablehands contracting the corruption, which had only been seen sporadically in the centuries since the last darkspawn attacks. More than a decade later, this experience proved vital in saving lives when Redcliffe, already weakened by undead attacks, was attacked by darkspawn. 

After the end of the Fifth Blight, Dennet helped rebuild Redcliffe, then retired to the Hinterlands with his wife, Elaina, and their daughter, Seanna. 

So I was thinking this morning.

Bloodlines is still officially part of the main CV timeline, and AFAIK nothing from it has been specifically retconned.

Which means that Elizabeth is still Dracula’s niece/Alucard’s cousin.

Which begs the question of who the fuck is Dracula’s sibling

Under pacifism and democracy, the individual is literally dying of boredom, rather than living and dying heroically.

Ours is an age in which everything is based on the premise that it is best to live as long as possible. The average life span has become the longest in history, and a monotonous plan for humanity unrolls before us.

Once a young man finds his place in society, his struggle is over, and there is nothing left for youth apart from retirement, and the peaceful, boring life of impotent old age. The comfort of the welfare state ensures against the need to struggle, and one is simply ordered to rest.

—  Yukio Mishima, from ‘Patriotism’

we know that james losing thomas was what brought captain flint into the world. we know that james losing john will be what eventually ends captain flint. these are facts!! we can almost guarantee (looking at the odyssey and don quixote and the story about his grandfather in 209) that james won’t die from rum poisoning and instead will retire and find peace [prayer circle formation]

the question we should be asking is /how/ losing john enables him to find peace. how can it be so tragic if he is able to find sanity afterwards? if thomas is alive we know it’s not going to be as simple as flint dropping everything and choosing him over of the war (over silver). he asked flint if he would give it all up to have thomas back and flint told him that ‘he wouldn’t want me to’. but like silver says that wasn’t what he asked. he wanted to know if he /would/ choose thomas and flint doesn’t actually give him an answer. why? because either he wouldn’t give up the war for thomas or that he can’t choose between the two. being with thomas would mean giving up his dream for nassau and also john, whereas if he continued fighting he would be fulfilling what they wanted to achieve all those years ago, and he would get to do it all standing by john’s side. if anything this is proof that if thomas does come back flint won’t just leave silver in a heartbeat. he is part of who he is now. he is the only person that actually understands him. maybe even more than thomas and miranda ever did. it wouldn’t be easy for him to just leave that part of him behind. remember he’s lived as flint for more than 10 years now. everything that he has become during that time doesn’t just go away when you want it to. he lost miranda. i don’t see how getting thomas back could ever fix that, not with all the guilt he carries from it. it would always eat away at him and that’s why i’m having difficulty seeing him find peace. also there’s the likelihood that thomas would not be the same man anymore, and just like james would have changed completely. like as much as i want to believe it would be all good i know that it wouldn’t be, they’d have to rebuild their relationship up from scratch and we wouldn’t get to see it hence a none satisfying and very confusing uncertain ending that a lot of viewers wouldn’t understand. this is the main reason im not getting my hopes up about it because i just don’t see how they’d have time to pull it off, especially since we were told that it’s about silver/flint right down to the last scene.

so im still like ??? how will he find peace then? we’ve literally been told part of it. silver ending flint is what will give james peace. it’s /always/ come down to that. but why is it so tragic? we know that flint is fine with letting silver succeed him so?? why is it such a tragedy?? because they lost the war and silver tells him he has to give up??? like that’s it???? we literally already /KNOW/ that they’re not going to win the war so??? it just seems way too predictable to be the cause of their breakup. “who was silver to flint? the answer can’t be simple” its already confirmed that it’s not going to be simple, their relationship is /not/ going to be simple!!! so if they’re not just best friends what are they? soulmates? we know that they ‘love’ each other, we know that flint needed silver most of all, we know that silver is a summation of all the relationships flint has had so far. but /who was he/ to flint?

im going to speak plainly now because i just [sighs] cannot see for the life of me how this doesn’t involve romantic feelings. tbh even if flint wasn’t confirmed gay i would still be like ????? at the outcome of all this just being ‘agape’. at least one of them has to be /in love/ with other for this tragedy to be a tragedy. that’s the only way i see this working. either that or thomas does come back and james chooses john over thomas. either way it’s him choosing his past lover over the 'love of his life’ so idk about you but thats just about as unplatonic as you can get. i still have no idea how he’s supposed to find peace after all this though. maybe he just lets it all go, and /finally/ accepts the inevitable. maybe silver finally sees what it’s doing to him and let’s /him/ go for his own sake, and tells him 'it’s ok’. maybe silver knows that letting him stay on this path will lead to his actual death. and whereas before silver was encouraging him not to give up in order to save captain flint, now he’s the one actually encouraging him to let it go, but this time to save james mcgraw. maybe it’s silver that gives him peace but the tragedy of it all is that he can’t share that peace with silver, not just yet anyway


The Hinterlands

My lord Arl Teagan,

I retired to the Hinterlands for peace and quiet away from the politics, and because the wide open spaces were perfect to let my horses run. Instead, the war between the mages and the templars has turned your beautiful hills into a series of burning battlefields.

The farmers who live in the Hinterlands are good folk. Many of them left Redcliffe village because they couldn’t bear to be there anymore, not after the Blight and the walking dead left so many bad memories. Now we’ve got apostates running around setting fire to anyone who looks at them sideways, and templars looting houses and cutting down those who protest as mage sympathisers.

My wife Elaina sent off our field hands to stay with her family in the east, but there are a lot of poor people here with nowhere to go. We get more refugees every day: this village attacked by mad mages or that farmstead burned to the ground by templars who can’t tell a hoe from a staff.

I suppose you’re stretched thin, but anything you can do to lessen the burden of these poor folk would be much appreciated. I’ll do as I can, and if your men need better mounts, say the word.

Best of luck to you, my lord. Remember not to let Duchess puff out her gut when you saddle her.

Yours in service,

—A letter from Redcliffe’s former horsemaster to Arl Teagan of Redcliffe (undelivered)
The Trap - Dorianmance Week, Angst edition

[WARNING: This was extremely painful to write and will be extremely painful to read. If you want nice fluffy Dorianmance, this is not the one.]

It was just about dusk when Seren saw the crow land on his window sill, waiting patiently with a mouth-full of a clunky-looking letter.  He’d been preparing the estate for Cassandra’s arrival all day, it was her first time visiting since the exalted council one year ago.  She’d been hard at work, making great progress with the Seekers of Truth.  Now, the fruits of her labor allowed her a small break to come see Seren, Varric, Dagna, and Sera in Kirkwall.  

Seren thought the letter might be from Cullen, and smiled as he walked over to take it.  Cullen had fully retired to a life of peace and happiness, and reading his updates was always something that brightened Seren’s day.  Once he had the letter in his hand, however, it was instantly clear that it was not from Cullen.  

The Pavus house seal held the note closed, and Seren’s heart skipped a few beats in a row.  He reached for his crystal, around his neck, wondering for a moment why Dorian would send him a letter.  It had, after all, been a few days since he’d heard from him…he decided to skip the contemplation and tore off the seal.

Something heavy dropped to his feet.  He stared down at it, blankly, attempting to comprehend.  It was Dorian’s crystal, to match his own, that lay at his feet.  His heart sped up quickly to a race as he gathered it up and opened the letter to read.  This was not good, that much he knew.  


I am truly pained to write this letter to you, but I fear that I must.  I believe that our time together must end.  I find that I no longer feel invested in this partnership and do not want to carry on any longer.  To do so would only prolong the pain of ending it, which I do not wish to do.  I am sorry to say that while I care for you a great deal and will always cherish what we had, that I no longer love you as I once did.  

I will not ask any more aid from you or the other members of the Inquisition, but trust that if you ever need anything from the Imperium, send word and it shall be yours.  

I have returned my matched crystal to you to do with what you will.  I supposed it would be easier on us both to have the break be as clean as possible.  

My deepest apologies, and my warmest regards,


Seren had fallen to his knees as he read the letter over and over.  The penmanship was Dorian’s, but these words…they were not his.  He imagined them from Dorian’s mouth and cried but it felt unnatural.  He studied every inch of the page, noting the tear stains in several spots.  Something -no- many things were not right here.  

He heard noise from the front door as he finally focused enough to gather himself together.  Varric’s voice, loud and boisterous.  

“Junebug, get out here!  The Seeker has finally found us.”  He laughed, proud of his terrible puns as Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

“Don’t start.” She groaned.  

Seren was having a difficult time prying himself off the floor.  Just as he was able to lift a knee, they had made their way to the room, laughter dying down as they saw him on the floor.

“Seren…” Cassandra’s voice softened with concern as her eyes fell to the letter in his hand.  “What has happened.”


They had all gathered around the table, the letter in the center.  Sera and Dagna, Cassandra, and Varric.  It had been quiet for a while, after the letter had been read by all.  Seren was quietly activating and deactivating the crystal around his neck, feeling Dorian’s hum in his hand, cementing the fact that this is real into his head.  

With a huff, Varric broke the silence.  


“Yeeeeap,” Dagna agreed, maybe too cheery.  “This just screams trap.”

“I’m inclined to agree, Seren.  This seems out of character and…” she leaned over to put a hand over his.  “Dorian loves you, fully.  I know it.  This does not make sense.”

Seren rubbed the furrows of his brow with his finger and thumb and tried to think logically.  “Since he and Mae have proposed these new bills to the Senate, some have come to support him but many would stop at nothing to hinder his progress,” He was realizing just how dangerous this could turn out to be.  “His private guards have stopped two assassination attempts already.  Easily, but the threat is not unlikely.”  

Sera stayed quiet, though her grip on Dagna’s hand was becoming a vice.

“He’s not dead, Seren.” Varric stated, as though he knew for sure.  “Maevaris would have sent word, after destroying what’s left of the Senate herself.  And that sort of thing would be news even here.”

“I’m so sorry, Cassandra,” Seren sighed.  “I’m afraid our visit has been cut tragically short.  You know I have to go and fix…whatever has happened.”  He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight.

“What in Thedas are you talking about?” She spat.  “Of course you do, and I’m going with you.”

“That’s more like it,” Sera chimed in finally. “I’m going too.  The gangs back together again, mussing up some Tevinter shits, finally.”  

“Tragically I have to stay behind,” Varric remarked as he got up to take his leave. “But I’ll send word ahead to Fenris, have him meet you just outside the city.  He’s been wiping out slavers there all month since Hawke went to check on the Wardens, I’m sure he has a secure path through to Minrathous.”

Dagna stood up now, tipping her head to Cassandra.  “Come on now!  Let me see your sword.  It’s been a long while since you’ve slaughtered anything, let me see what I can cook you up.”

Cassandra obliged, going to her trunk and pulling out her sword and shield.  They were always with her but the past year she’d been more or less a diplomat, bringing the Seekers together, studying their history and pushing for reform.  Her brow was pinched in worry over this, but her sword arm did miss the fight.  Dagna looked them over with a disapproving grin, then headed down to her work space, stopping to kiss Sera first, who turned to follow her away.  


Seren was ready and pacing for departure before anyone else, and spent every minute he wasn’t preparing obsessing over the possible terrors that might have occurred.  What he would do if someone had harmed his Vhenan, what he would do if someone had…No, he was alive.  He had to be alive.   

He wore a long cloak over his armor to hide his distinguishing features from those who would see.  The Keeper, his uniquely-made orb-shaped foci resting on his hip, a marvel of a weapon courtesy of Dagna, and his missing arm, courtesy of Fen Harel.  His ears and Valaslin were harder to hide, of course, but under the hooded cloak they would at least be obscured.  

They left that eve at dusk.  The trip would have only taken two day’s ride if they’d been able to use the Imperial Highway, but once they crossed the border, they had to ride the long and hidden paths to the north.  If things were as bad as they seemed, they couldn’t risk word reaching Minrathous before they did.  On the unbeaten path, the trip north would take almost a week, and Seren was already twitching to close the distance.

Varric sent word out to Fenris, who confirmed that many of the slavers he killed had cursed Dorian’s name in the minutes before their demise, and that he would be there to greet the rest of them at the gates.  He also sent word to Cullen, Iron Bull and the Chargers, Divine Victoria, Josephine, and Grand Enchanter Vivienne, Warden Rainier, and Spymaster Harding.  He figured if this wound up, as so many of their adventures have in the past, being bigger than they anticipated, he’d rather have everyone ready to rally.  


Fenris was meant to be camped just outside the city, hidden unless you knew what you were looking for.  When they found him, he was well prepared, with fennec stew on a fire and a map of the city already on the ground, held in place with stones with more used as location markers.  

Cassandra convinced Seren that they could spare time to eat and rest until nightfall, that it would be better to head into the city in the darkness anyway.  She’d spent much of their journey arguing with him to camp and rest, to eat, when he’d been stubborn and determined to cut their travel time down.  

He showed them all the map to the Pavus estate, pointing out all the necessary places to avoid at all costs if they wanted this to be quiet.  

“If he’s been taken, our best chances for figuring out where to will be in the signs of struggle.  He’s an important figure, no one would dare take him from the street or anywhere public.  They’d try to infiltrate his home.”  Fenris’ voice was calm and collected.  Seren felt oddly calmed by his presence.  He was the only one there with no ties to Dorian, no emotion to cloud his judgement.  And Seren knew honestly, he was emotionally compromised.  

“Whatever happens Inky,” Sera said, “You remember that you have friends, no matter what we find, you force yourself to remember that that will never change.”

And so, as night fell over them, they made their way through the city streets and back alleys.  It was a shame, Seren thought, to see Tevinter for the first time this way.  It was actually beautiful, even in the dark.  Golden dragon sculptures adorned many of the buildings they passed, and the buildings toward the center of the city even looked like they were weapons, coming to elaborate spikes toward the top.  There was so much gold, in fact, the city seemed to shine just a little.  

He couldn’t stay distracted by the architecture very long, as they reached the gate to the Pavus estate.  Sera doused them all in one of her mysterious tinctures, obscuring them in a hazy fog so they could get through the gates without alerting any guards.  Following her expertise, they managed to get by unnoticed, searching the grounds until they found a service entrance with a lock she could pick.

Once inside, Seren led the way.  He’d never been here, of course, but he’d made Dorian describe his home at length, on several different nights, just as an excuse to hear him talk, and to help him feel like he could picture his life more clearly.  It was a comfort, actually, to picture him reading in his study, practicing his alchemy in the kitchen, sipping whiskey in the chair in his chambers.  Now that he was here, the description pieced together and he was sure he knew where to go to find Dorian’s study.  It was adjacent to his bedroom and he spent most of his leisure time there.  It was the first place to look.

When they reached the door they paused, noticing the light coming from within.  It was barely anything, but some sound could be heard past the door as well.  The room was not empty.  Hands were on hilts and bows before Seren took a deep breath and flung open the door.

His study was exactly as described, a wide and clear space with only two sticks of furniture besides the shelves full of books lining the walls.  His chair and the ornate table next to it were in the middle of the room.  Candles on all four walls lit the room in a glow.  And Dorian, in all his living, breathing glory was sitting in the chair, whiskey on the table, book in his lap, shocked and utterly confused expression on his face.

Seren’s eyes went red hot with tears of relief instantly, though his hand did not drop from The Keeper’s handle, he took the hood of his cloak down.  

“Ma Vhenan, thank the Creators, I —” He was overjoyed to see Dorian alright and unharmed but something was still not right.  Dorian looked in shock, and this could be exactly the trap they anticipated.  

It was obvious Cassandra agreed, her weapon was no longer sheathed as she watched both entrances with an unblinking eye.  

“Seren, what in Andraste’s name are you doing here.” Dorian’s voice was almost hushed, his brow furrowed, and Seren was sure that he saw his hands shaking.  His eyes were red.

Despite his better judgement, Seren ran to him, taking a knee to the floor beside his chair to get a better look at him, to know for sure he was unharmed.  Cassandra grunted but stayed vigilant, and Sera had her hand on her bow.  Fenris was still, arms crossed across his chest, just watching.  

“Vhenan, I got the letter you penned,” he pulled the crumpled mess of it from his pouch.  “Your crystal was with it, and we knew something had to be wrong.  It still may be.  Has anyone made an attempt on your life?  Any new staff on the grounds?”  Seren was rambling, his eyes studying Dorian for new scars and letting his words carry on.  

Dorian shut his eyes tight, stilling himself with a deep breath.  He should not have been surprised that Seren would come.  Of course he would.  When has he ever valued his own safety above Dorian’s?  That letter was not enough.  Here he was, with no idea how high the bounty was on his head in this city.  Well, Dorian thought, bitter at himself, at everything.  If the letter wasn’t enough…this visit certainly will be.  He silently thanked the Maker that he hadn’t quite finished obliterating himself tonight.

He choked down the tears welling up and forced himself to speak as evenly as possible.  “Yes, Seren, I see what you must have thought.  I’m sorry, I–”

Seren stood suddenly and took a step back, his hand back on the handle of The Keeper as if Venatori would pop out at any moment.  “Why are you calling me that.” He spoke soft, barely above a whisper.  Dorian nearly exclusively called him Amatus since the moment he first declared it.  He peppered his given name in sometimes, usually when he was trying to be serious.  But Seren was suddenly very aware, though disbelieving, of what was really going on.  

“Well,” Dorian cleared his throat, focusing all energy into his best nonchalant voice.  “You did read the letter I sent you, did you not?” His voice sounded strong and uncaring, but his eyes avoided Seren’s.  

“Oh, you shit.” Sera spat.  “I knew it, I bloody knew it and I didn’t want to say it.”  

Fenris only groaned, arms still crossed.  

Seren stood in shock, time slowing and vision tunnelling just as it did when Solas betrayed him.  He heard what Dorian was saying, he knew what it meant, but—it couldn’t.  He knew it couldn’t be what it seemed, felt it.  He swallowed hard, fighting the burning feeling rising up his neck.  

“Vhenan, please, if there is something gone wrong, if — Just, please, Vhenan, you can tell me the truth.” His voice was cracking, and he could not even try to control it.  He wanted to fight against this reality, peel away the exterior and find something else, anything else.  Dorian would not look him in the eye, and his hands were shaking.  

He was about to continue pleading, but was interrupted by a knock on the door to the study from inside the bedroom.  “Dorian,” a voice called out through the door.  “Are you coming to bed?”

Seren was frozen, eyes wide and locked on Dorian, mouth just slightly agape.  The mere seconds drew on as Dorian thought, well, this is it.  Commit.  Fire the arrow that will keep him away from this place for good.

“Just a few minutes longer, Amatus” Dorian called back toward the door.  “I’ll be there soon.” This fling with Rilenious was simply meant to be a distraction from the pain of his own decisions.  And now he was declaring love through a door.  Well, I’m sure I’ll pay for that.

And he did, instantly.  Seren stepped backward several paces, his hand coming up to his abdomen as if to hold together a grievous wound.  His face distorted and he could no longer fight back the tears in his eyes.  

“Oh, Dorian,” Cassandra finally let down her guard, her voice purely heartbroken. “You didn’t…”

Seren felt so many things at once.  Disbelief, shame, betrayal, despair, and pain.  Pain that hurt him so deeply he felt it transcend time.  This was the man he fought besides.  The man he travelled through time with.  Saved the world with.  The man he gave his heart to.  The man he was happy to wait for.  He couldn’t just let it, he felt the need to fight for them rise up in his chest.  They deserved that, they deserved a fight.  

“Vhenan, please,” He didn’t bother to hold back the sobs.  Why would he bother.  Dorian was declaring another one his love, this was over.  No use saving face.  “After everything, we’ve overcome so much, we can–” His breath hitched and he lost his words.  He looked down and let the tears come as they needed.  His phantom pains grew more intense in his emotional state, and he reached for it pathetically, as if he’d forgotten all over again.  

Dorians fingers had gripped the book in his lap so tight his fingers were white, as he glanced up at Seren he felt like he had stabbed himself in the gullet, he’d never seen him like this, not even after Solas took his arm.  He’s lost so much and you’re just adding to the pyre.  He couldn’t soften up now.  No turning back.  No comforting him.  He has Sera, and Cassandra, and Varric, and apparently Fenris.  He’ll be alright.

“I am truly sorry, Seren.” He tried not to sound too warm, not to think about what was happening.  “However, I’m afraid you should be going.”

The coldness struck Seren and stopped his flow of tears.  He reached into his pouch, rubbing his fingers along Dorian’s crystal a moment before pulling it out.  He stiffened up, and stepped over to Dorian, holding out the crystal and letting it down onto the table next to his whiskey.  

“I’ll have my half…the other half,” He fiddled with it between his fingers.  “sent to Harding when I return home.  Should you need anything, assistance or support, you will not be denied.”  He turned away, horrified to see his friends there, and the expressions they wore.  

“Seren…” Dorian argued, disturbed by Seren’s sudden stiffness.  His Seren never hid his emotions, they were always bare, especially for him.  This felt pivotal, maybe in a bad way.  “You don’t have to…”

“No,” Seren said without turning back to look at him.  “Whatever your…association with me, you still played a large hand in saving Thedas.  You brought us back from an unviable future, you fought by my side through…” Everything.  “Through each of our most critical moments.  And now you seek to reform an entire nation for the better.  You should have the support of our remaining resources regardless of our…history.”  He choked down the words, cementing them.  Coward, Seren, why aren’t you fighting this?  Make him remember. Do anything.  Try.

But his eyes were frozen on the door on the other side of the study.  The door to the bedroom.  

Fenris had come up and placed his hands on Seren’s shoulders to steady him.  “You damned hero-types never get to be happy,” he said, not without his own bitterness.  “Fighting for others even when it is destructive and dangerous.”

“Inky,” Sera insisted, “He’s just another noble nob winding up with some other noble nob after all.  It’s all the same.  What about we shoot our way out of here, yeah?  Will that help?”

Seren pried his eyes away from that horrid door.  Thank the heavens for Sera.  “No, Sera, Dagna will never forgive me if I don’t get you home safe. And then where will I be?”

His companions moved out the door to the hall, pulling their cloaks up and preparing for their journey back out of the city.  Seren lifted his hood as well, but felt his feet were difficult to move.  He knew once he left this room, it was finished, and the weight of that truth was a barrier he had to break through.  

After a long moment, he found his courage, and stepped over the threshold to join the others.  He looked back at his Dorian once more, wishing he had one more thing to say, one more plea.  Instead he just looked at him, remembering vividly their last kiss and imagining a proper goodbye.  And then, with courage, he was gone.  They made their way out of the city with haste and ease, back to Fenris’ camp to rest the night.  Seren didn’t sleep, though he did lay still in his tent for long hours, reliving the night, reliving his life.  

Before exhaustion defeated his restlessness he grabbed the crystal around his neck and activated it one last time, recording a message that may or may not ever be heard.

Once they’d gone, Dorian stood on shaking legs to carry him to the shelf in the corner where his bottled whiskey stood.  He skipped the pretense of the glass and took several long draughts straight from the bottle before placing it back on the mantle.  He let the tears through for just a moment, the smallest flood in Theodisian history finally breaking through his dam.  He allowed himself to feel it all as he snuffed out the candles in the study in ritual.  Once it passed, he swallowed his bitterness and regret and faced the bedroom door, the next bloody mistake he had to face.  

When he walked over and opened the door, a sweet voice beckoned him to his bed.  “I thought you’d never come, Amatus.” Dorian hung his head and entered the room, closing the door behind him.  

In the darkness of the quiet study, eventually a soft hum emanated from the crystal sitting alone on the table, a message recorded in a soft and pained voice to be heard later, now whispered to no one at all.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for us, Vhenan.  I wanted to.  I…have no more fight left.  Be happy, and change the world like you planned to.  You will succeed.  Dareth Shiral, ma vhenan.  Ar lath, a da’Bellanardis.”

anonymous asked:

What do you think Jimmy Carter's legacy will be? Do you think it'll be his less then sub par presidency or his years of humanitarian work?

No President will ever be able to completely separate themselves from their time in the White House, so Carter’s Presidency will always play a part in determining his legacy. However, President Carter will also be remembered as being the best former President in American history.

Jimmy Carter left the White House on the same day that I celebrated my first birthday, so for basically my entire life, Carter has been “retired”. For nearly 35 years, Carter has completely transformed the role of an ex-President and established a completely new type of public service. A former American President – no matter how good or bad their time in the White House was perceived – will always possess a unique ability to open doors, build connections, and spotlight whatever issue he or she directs their attention to. Even Richard Nixon, who was forced to resign, chased into exile, and escaped a possible prison sentence only through the mercy of his successor, became an elder statesman. Since Carter decided to create the Carter Center and work for something more than political posts here in the United States, his successors have also followed his lead and tried to find similar areas of need and interest where they can contribute once they too become former Presidents. 

President Carter – as Citizen Carter – turned the post-Presidency into a new phase of public service for the exclusive fraternity of people who were once the most powerful people on the planet. When Carter left office in 1981, he was only 56 years old, and he couldn’t imagine injecting himself into electoral politics anymore, but he recognized that he wasn’t done working and he had much more to give. Now, as he nears his 91st birthday and battles brain cancer, he’s finally slowing down – but only so that he can receive treatment that gives him an opportunity to continue his work. From 1977 to 1981, Carter was President of the United States in difficult times and he wasn’t great at the job. But since 1981, Carter has traveled to some of the most dangerous places in the world – not to give speeches or earn money, or even to rewrite his story and define his legacy – but to do good and to help people.

His legacy will surely include his Presidency, but he (as well as Mrs. Carter and their Carter Center) has built far more tangible things since the day he left office – he’s helped build houses for people in need, he’s helped to create systems for delivering safe drinking water and for fighting common diseases, and he’s helped to restore faith in various peace processes and fairness to over 100 elections worldwide. 

Jimmy Carter is far more than a humanitarian; he’s worked to become the architect of a better world. Carter’s legacy is the millions of people, all over the globe, who have lived safer, healthier, happier lives because of everything that he’s worked for since leaving the White House. For Jimmy Carter, those four years as President of the United States were an entry-level position that has allowed him to do the greatest good for the largest number of his fellow human beings in as many places as possible. Once they are inaugurated, American Presidents quickly learn that their job is ill-suited for the task of trying to save the world. Jimmy Carter has spent over 35 years proving that ex-Presidents can.

Hill Country Texas Gothic
  • A peaceful hike in the woods, and the house wrens and white wing doves are louder than usual. In the distance, gun shots are fired. This isn’t unusual. Then follow screams. The birds are quiet. 
  • During the summers, every Saturday the rodeo can be heard for miles. It always starts with cheering and singing and music, but as the night continues it turns into yelling, fighting, and incoherent growls. 
  • There’s a cemetery between Wal-mart and Discount Tires. It’s been there for 250 years. No one questions it, no one disturbs it. In fact, people have forgotten it exists. Yet it’s still there.
  • It’s a peaceful retirement town on the surface. Underneath, a history of meth houses, famous serial killers, and the witness protection program. Did you hear about the Russian family that disappeared in the middle of the night?
  • Lunch at Chili’s is never a bad idea, especially when you sit on the back porch and view the river. That is, until you notice the smoke coming out of the crematorium next door. 
  • There’s a sweet club of old ladies that wear purple hats. They do nothing but socialize and eat at local cafes. At least, that’s what we’ve convinced ourselves.
  • H.E.B. Here Everything’s Better. But we’re not so sure.
  • The skies are filled with buzzards. Hundreds of them, circling and circling. They’re on the telephone wires. There is no road kill anymore, and yet they stay, waiting. 
  • As the weather gets drier, the scorpions and centipedes and spiders find their ways inside our homes. “They’re just looking for a water source” we tell ourselves. What we don’t mention is what they’re hiding from. 
  • Strange noises come from outside every night. “Must be a coyote or mountain lion,” someone might say. “It’s the chupacabra,” might another. We know it’s much, much worse though. 
  • Everything is deep fried….
  • Secede. It’s just grumpy old men who hate politics. Secede. There’s no reason to. Secede. Everything is great! Secede. The national government told us so.  
  • What really happened to the Yellow Rose of Texas?

Taking out brain byproducts one by one.

I just want Nijimura to be the retired grandma. In his grandma pajamas reading newspaper like an old man and getting back massages from a reclining chair.

Akashi makes it his duty to protect Nijimura san of the woods, so he can spend a carefree retired life in peace. Wolves seem to always want Nijimura san.

Wolves seem to always follow Akashi. Nijimura is just happy that Akashi is an intelligent child who can out-think even the village’s smartest adults. However, there was that one time Akashi befriended a lone wolf that fainted from exhaustion. It worried Nijimura, but the wolf wasn’t a bad one, which Akashi said he already knew.

Mayuzumi is always the victim.


Here’s a little idea that I came up with a few days ago while thinking about the “my life as a romantic comedy” meme…

Dr. Catherine Halsey, renowned UNSC scientist, is in danger.
She is retired and living a peaceful life on a modest Sangheili neighborhood on 26th century California, but they have found her and they want her dead. The Covenant, humanity’s greatest alien enemy, has sworn to vaporize the good Doctor in revenge for her supposed crimes (which helped the humans to win the war) and for her own safety, the UNSC deployed a SPARTAN team to deal with the problem. For weeks, Blue Team has been in disguise expecting any kind of alien (or human) attack on Dr. Halsey, which also unfortunately means to cope with the old lady and her two eccentric daughters, Miranda and Cortana. However, Cortana might be the whole reason behind the threat and it’s up to John, one of the finest SPARTANS, to keep her safe… sometimes even from himself.
Join Humanity’s bravest and best as they settle in the empty house across the street and try to pass on for brothers and sisters recently moved into the neighborhood.


John-117 as THE TALL, BROODING, HANDSOME MALE PROTAGONIST. Facing a potential forced retirement due to an old injury, John is given his last chance to keep working for the UNSC. He was made to live in the line of fire and the perspective of retirement is as awful as it can get, but he sure wasn’t expecting this amount of bullshit. He’s a tenacious man of few words with little patience for stupidity and annoying neighbors. Especially children. And Dr. Halsey’s younger daughter, Cortana, because she constantly pisses him off with her witty comments.

Cortana as THE CUTE BUT WEIRD SMART GIRL SLASH FEMALE PROTAGONIST Dr. Halsey’s youngest, kind-of-hippie-but-actually-smart-and-hot-beyond-your-wildest-dreams daughter. She is the real target behind the Covenant’s threat and ultimately becomes John’s little shield and sword, since her wits more than once save everyone’s lifes. Literally she can’t stand him but deep down she has a really big soft spot for the big guy and only wants to understand him. She loves children and animals and making things blow up, also, she might or might not have discovered a very important secret that could destroy the Covenant forever.

Fred-104 as THE TEAM LEADER. UNSC Lieutenant Junior Grade Fred-104 was originally commissioned with the mission. He thinks he calls the shots but he doesn’t, he’s really the team’s mom, always looking after everyone else. He helps old ladies to cross the street and he’s even a decent cook. Seriously, he’s such a good guy that it’s annoying.

Kelly-087 as THE CUTE INNOCENT RABBIT being most likely the fastest SPARTAN alive, Kelly is quite spirited and the team’s absolute badass along with John; and like Fred, she cares about her teammates but more than once she misunderstands their feelings and ends up breaking uncomfortable havoc. She likes to make jokes that nobody understands.

Linda-058 as SNIPER GIRL she’s a quiet loner, most of the time she stands at the background, just staring. Always with a sniper rifle in hand, she barely leaves the house or her spot at the attic, from where she watches out for the street and Dr. Halsey’s house. Her only vocabulary consists in deadpans. She always takes the night shifts.

Charley K-90456 as JOHN’S SURVEILLANCE GADGET. UNSC enhanced war dog Charley is the perfect partner for long-term surveillance missions slash perfect decoy. If a German Shepherd of the size of an adult lion can be considered a decoy. John uses her as an excuse to patrol up and down the streets early at morning and late at night.

Dr. Catherine Halsey as THE TARGET quite-not-so-okay-in-the-head scientist slash miracle worker. A long time widow with some issues about personal space, personal morals and people by themselves. Sometimes she spaces out in the middle of a conversation and she strongly believes that she can solve all the problems in the world; which is why she keeps working in her secret basement’s lab against UNSC permission. She thinks John is a good boy and always invites him and his “siblings” for dinner, but she actually wants Fred to cook because she can’t even make a fried egg.

Miranda Keyes as THE POLITICALLY CORRECT DAUGHTER Dr. Halsey’s older daughter; she married Sergeant Avery Johnson of the Marine Corps and currently is on maternity leave because of her second child, having a vacation at her mother’s house while her husband is on duty. She is always in her right mind and full of older sister’s wisdom, but like her mother, sometimes she spaces out in the middle of conversations.


Jameson Locke and fire-team Osiris as THE TOP DOGS WHO LOOK DOWN ON OUR BELOVED BLUE BABIES. They act like a bunch of a***les but deep down they admire Blue Team and aspire to become as trustworthy and badass as them. Vale has a thing for Usze but she’s too shy to make a move.

Thomas Lasky as THE BOSS. He looks like a cinnamon roll, but he can kill you. And fire your ass. He protects John because they went to the Academy together.

Sarah Palmer as THE HARSH ASS SPARTAN COMMANDER. Like J. Jonah Jameson, she can’t decide if she likes Blue Team or if she wants to get rid of them forever, but since they always get the job done with the average amount of domestic damage, she ends up filing requests for more medals. She yells a lot and probably has a thing going on with Lasky but we can never confirm.

Thel Vadam as THE ALIEN NEIGHBOUR. A retired Covenant Shipmaster who traded secrets with the UNSC in exchange for a quiet, simple life with his wife. He’s the president of the Home Owners Association, doesn’t like SPARTANS stomping on his lawn and pretty much keeps to himself. Unless the SPARTAN’s dog decides to make a crater where his roses used to be or the newspaper doesn’t arrive in time every morning.

Rtas ‘Vaduum and Usze Taham as THE SECRET AGENTS acting as two Sangheili college students, Rtas and Usze are the backup team that most of the time fixes everyone else’s fuck ups. And boy, they fuck up a lot.

Jul 'Mdama as THE TRAITOR YOU NEVER EXPECTED Another neighbor. Enough said.

Kurt-051 as THE NOT SO DEAD FRIEND THAT THINKS HE’S TUXEDO MASK. He’s always in full armor so we really don’t know it’s Kurt until the end of the story, but he mysteriously appears and disappears in the middle of impossible combat situations, saving everyone’s asses from time to time.


Fire-team Majestic as THE BACKUP. Recurring characters with no personality whatsoever, they’re here just in case.

*Charley is my OC, get your hands off my dog.


theplagueofstars  asked:

Comet [ feel better ! ]

ARDYN | @theplagueofstars
[ Space Inquiries ]

Comet: What is your big dream?

When the curtain closes upon the final act, I dare say this country will need an adviser more than ever - there will be the duty of finding the new King, of rebuilding that which has been lain to waste and seeing to the aid and reestablisment of both crown and citizenry…I think perhaps, I would like to return his kingdom to its former glory, and then, when my work here is done, settle somewhere in the countryside and see to the things I haven’t - gardening, violin, bird-keeping. A peaceful retirement.

Hm. You know, I’m almost thirty, and I’ve been out in the world and done more crazy things than anyone by my age ought have. I worked in a huge roadhouse for a bit, stage-managed magic shows with live tigers, had my own improv troupe. I’ve been a beer thrower, a baker, the secretary for one of the largest Humans Vs. Zombies campaigns in the US, an internet stripper for a hot minute, and now I’m sitting in management for a company I’ve loved since I was a little kid. All of that without achieving a degree. And it’s funny because it feels like I’ve hit my mid-life crisis early. I’ve accomplished every dream I’ve ever had - so what comes next?

I think it boils down to this: Wherever I go, whatever I do - I want to write, and I want to help people. If I can foster an ounce of the wonder I see in this world in someone else, that’s the real success to me.