- Pronouns
- He/Him
I think all guesses as to what occurred are theorizing in advance of the data. I'll have an opinion on what happened after we get everyone's story and a geomantic analysis.
Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny)
- Thread starter yrsillar
- Start date
- Original Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
BagFullOfLizards
Some bag, mostly lizards
- Location
- A bag
His priority isn't being able to punish others, it's getting an advantage over them. We know that the Jin prefer to come as colonizers, pillaging without consideration for foreigners, and this seems to be the same mindset. It doesn't matter whether or not the White Sky is actually at fault, this incident can be spun to make it look like they were. And that puts them in the subordinate position, which can be then leveraged for concessions or compensation. As he said, "We choose to be efficient, and seek advantage"; don't bother wasting effort to ascertain guilt, seize the chance to put the other party on the back food so you can take over the negotiations.
It's looking like he's one of those people who see interactions as a constant power struggle. One is dominating others, or one is placing themselves subordinate to them. Any interaction is only to be considered for how it allows you to place yourself over your opponents (and everyone is an opponent), or avoid an opponent placing themselves over you.
It's an entirely toxic worldview to ours, one in which any compromise or cooperation is at best a temporary truce while you build up forces to strike harder later, and at worst a complete ruse to make you lower your guard. But we knew we were going to have to manage the Ministry going in.
That's their peakaboo coming through
- Location
- Rivendell
This does address another point we should probably be aware of: We're currently not actually managing the MoI all that well. We keep pushing points directly opposed to their agenda, have no clear view on their actions, and have largely left them to stew in their grumblings.
If anything, Jin Tae being snippy and annoyed is the best we could've hoped for. He's still cooperating, still talking to us, and still treating the summit like a chore they have to allow because they don't have much choice in the matter. If he ceases to be openly annoyed and standoffish, or Shenhua forbid if he ceases to talk to us at all, we would be in a lot of trouble.
If anything, Jin Tae being snippy and annoyed is the best we could've hoped for. He's still cooperating, still talking to us, and still treating the summit like a chore they have to allow because they don't have much choice in the matter. If he ceases to be openly annoyed and standoffish, or Shenhua forbid if he ceases to talk to us at all, we would be in a lot of trouble.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
So far, Jin Tae seems to be in the right for thinking a formal apology is in order.
The White Sky didn't listen to the Imperial about there being a problem with the array. There was no time to call for someone higher up, so a direct approach was needed before the array could be damaged further. The Imperial tried to talk but they were ignored, so I think the action was justified. The punch in the face was very much not warranted, and I won't support a "both sides" argument.
Maybe we'll get more information later on that changes things, but even if we consider cultural differences such as the White Sky considering a foreign woman laying hands on a man to be a extreme faux pas, escalating to knocking someone's lights out is too much when other options were still available to the White Sky.
The White Sky didn't listen to the Imperial about there being a problem with the array. There was no time to call for someone higher up, so a direct approach was needed before the array could be damaged further. The Imperial tried to talk but they were ignored, so I think the action was justified. The punch in the face was very much not warranted, and I won't support a "both sides" argument.
Maybe we'll get more information later on that changes things, but even if we consider cultural differences such as the White Sky considering a foreign woman laying hands on a man to be a extreme faux pas, escalating to knocking someone's lights out is too much when other options were still available to the White Sky.
Agreed.
Although we of course need to hear out the other parts, so far what Jin Tae is pushing for is very much warranted.
Conveniently, we also need to throw the Ministry a bone or two and this is a good opportunity.
Searing Brilliance
- Location
- United States of America
A Searing Brilliance
The flame shed a steady brightness as I held it in my hand. Expanding and contracting in time with my breaths, it illuminated the small room I was holed up in except for eight corners. There lay darkness. Intellectually, I knew that if permitted the fire would reveal the corners just as easily as it had the rest of the room. I also knew that such an exercise of control helped me contemplate fire as illuminating and revealing.
I heard soft timid steps coming down the hallway toward my room. Restraining my qi sense, I listened for clues as to the identity of the individual. The gait indicated a shorter woman, the softness of the steps told me that she was on the lighter side, and her nervousness shone through with the rhythmic pounding of her heart. Or she had run here, but if that were the case I would have expected heavier breathing. And then she knocked and opened the door.
"Sir Ling Huo, my apologies. It is time to present yourself for the next match."
Exhaling, I extinguished the flame in my hand and rose, letting the groaning and scraping of my armor fill the room. Grabbing my tower shield and helmet, I turned and saw the servant who had informed me about the upcoming match. She was small and nervous. A few steps into the red soul, but wore the uniform of the Argent Sect.
Information bubbled to the surface of my mind as Zhishi shifted through his internal repository and shared what was stored with me. Her name was Yan Puren, an unfortunate name in many regards. Yan was a troubled family name, even if Puren had no known family connection to the Rotten Worm. Additionally, the given name was a tad on the nose for her line of work. Mortal lineage, sent to the Argent Sect by the Ministry. Did not thrive in the environment but was able to secure a position as a worker in the Argent Sect's Administration. Typically delivering letters and sorting mail. Frequented a tea store in town and seemed to favor their honeyed nuts.
"Thank you Yan Puren," I said softly as I passed her. "I'll be sure to purchase some honeyed nuts from The Steeped Fragrance for you as thanks for the timely reminder."
Yan Puren squeaked like a mouse and ducked her head in a deep bow. Her face was ashen white, and I could almost literally see the gears turning in her mind. What did I know? How did I know it? Have I been watching her? How long have I been watching her? Had she done something to warrant such observation? Around and around her little thoughts swirled tinged with fear. Which was good. A little fear made a person predictable. And I liked it when others were predictable. It made my work easy.
Stepping forward and out, I marched down the hallway, my steps echoing off the stone. Ahead of me was the brilliant light of the Argent Sect's arena, and already I could hear the swelling noise of the crowd. A tuning of my ears filtered out most of the dross, allowing Zhishi to filter and highlight the important conversations. Well, some of them. The most important persons were secured with wards and veils that I could not yet pierce letting them plot and plan with impunity. As I exited the portal into the arena proper, I noted to my right the box holding Cai Xishi talking with Mother. I nodded to them and saw Mother smile back, bright and proud. Then, stepping up to the platform across my opponent, I slid my helmet on.
Across from me stood Zi Haode, his everpresent smirk plastered on his face. Zhishi bubbled worryingly, trying to share information in his repository. I skimmed it but gently pushed back. I had memorized Haode's information before the tournament, and even with Zhishi's best efforts, no new information had been dredged. A fact that caused Zhishi no end of indignation.
Zi Haode had been scouted by the Ministry and had flourished in the turmoil of the Outer Sect. Aligning himself with the rebellious and disenfranchised, he quickly distinguished himself with the speed of his cultivation and the brutality of his combat. Not content with disabling an opponent, he had tried to make an art of almost crippling his adversaries. Pushing the boundaries of violence the Argent Sect permitted, but never going so far beyond that a response was absolutely required. And, surprisingly, he had been able to fully advance into the Green realm a month ahead of the tournament. Wood and lightning were his favored elements, with the spear his best-practiced weapon. I would not be able to beat him in speed, but neither could he endure my strikes.
Zi Haode opened his mouth to speak, but the platform twisted and I found myself within a field of rolling hills and tall wheat. As I stepped forward, rustling the grass, I listened. A gentle breeze blew from the south, but no birds or insects chirped. It was quiet. Except for the beating heart, the light steps, and the parting stalks twenty meters in front of me.
"Don't bother hiding in the grass like a field mouse, Haode." I said, my voice echoing deeply because of my helmet. "I know you're there."
I heard a snort from Zi Haode, and then a sharp whistling closing in on me rapidly. With a shift of my shoulder, I brought my shield up, letting the flying blade skate across as it peeled behind me. A cruel piece of work, my opponent's flying weapon was built with sharp curves and wicked hooks. All the better to slice and pull. However, Haode's inexperience with flying blades shone through with the attack. It was direct, slow, and clumsy. At the most he would have had a month to practice, clearly not long enough for him to become comfortable with the tool.
At its next pass, I grabbed the blade's pommel and twirled, letting the blade's momentum help me shove the weapon blade first into the loam. Then I flexed my qi, bringing to bear the heat and weight of the deep mountain's blood. Molten stone gushed out of my hand, trying to crush the blade. It wouldn't, flying weapons were built too tough to be broken by such a method, but as the stone cooled it would further unbalance the blade, making it even heavier and more difficult to maneuver. But I knew Zi Haode wouldn't wait for me to fully encase his weapon. I could already hear him charging my back.
Releasing the flying blade, I turned, letting my dao drop into my hand from my storage ring. Bracing behind my tower shield, I winced as Haode's spear slammed into it, causing a gong-like sound to reverberate outwards. Flexing my qi in a well-rehearsed pattern, I conjured a flaming ball above my helmet. It was hot enough to begin burning the grass right next to me, but it would not deter a cultivator of Zi Haode's power. What it would do, though, was even more insidious.
Most cultivators, especially young ones from mortal families, perceived qi in a visual sense. A reasonable way to understand a world of senses that someone had just uncovered. But an exploitable habit. The technique I used was just the tool to do so. Painting everything in my qi signature, it caused confusion in those with a less developed sense of qi. Like my opponent.
A quick jab poked past my shield and skittered across my side. Foreign qi sprouted, like wildly growing vines mixed with the scent of ozone. The technique found a joint in my armpit and jabbed through, slicing through my skin and trying to infest my body. I burned it, my blood heated beyond mortal limits searing the wound shut. Swinging my dao in response, I let molten metal spray from the blade in a specific pattern. Zi Haode backed up, leaving a trail of flickering lightning in his wake, letting the metal fall on the ground. He paid it no further mind, and I grinned.
The pattern continued, Zi Haode would jab in and try to slide his spear into an opening, I would block and slash, letting metal spray. He would never let the molten liquid hit him, backing out of the way quickly and repositioning himself. Slowly, the smoldering grass burned away, the smoke rising high into the sky as barren land was exposed in a circle all around me. Eventually, after twenty repetitions, I was satisfied with my work. With the Haode's next jab, I angled my shield to let the spear pass below my arm and dropped my dao onto the ground. Grabbing his forward arm, I pulled him in close, pressing him against my chest armor. Then I activated the formations I had been spraying on the ground. Heat and pressure bloomed and a raging inferno pressed Zi Haode into my blistering armor even further. Seared from both sides, he was only able to let out a short anguished scream before he was pulled out of the arena by the proctor.
As the tournament field dissolved like snow, I saw Mother's beaming smile and clapping hands. A different warmth than the searing heat of my flames seeped into my heart as I took off my helmet with a beaming smile and nodded at her.
A/N: @yrsillar another omake for the omake throne! It feels like it's been a while since I've done one, and I fully blame Path of Exile for sinking its jaws into me. This might make sense given that this bit is about an expy of the Searing Exarch. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
The flame shed a steady brightness as I held it in my hand. Expanding and contracting in time with my breaths, it illuminated the small room I was holed up in except for eight corners. There lay darkness. Intellectually, I knew that if permitted the fire would reveal the corners just as easily as it had the rest of the room. I also knew that such an exercise of control helped me contemplate fire as illuminating and revealing.
I heard soft timid steps coming down the hallway toward my room. Restraining my qi sense, I listened for clues as to the identity of the individual. The gait indicated a shorter woman, the softness of the steps told me that she was on the lighter side, and her nervousness shone through with the rhythmic pounding of her heart. Or she had run here, but if that were the case I would have expected heavier breathing. And then she knocked and opened the door.
"Sir Ling Huo, my apologies. It is time to present yourself for the next match."
Exhaling, I extinguished the flame in my hand and rose, letting the groaning and scraping of my armor fill the room. Grabbing my tower shield and helmet, I turned and saw the servant who had informed me about the upcoming match. She was small and nervous. A few steps into the red soul, but wore the uniform of the Argent Sect.
Information bubbled to the surface of my mind as Zhishi shifted through his internal repository and shared what was stored with me. Her name was Yan Puren, an unfortunate name in many regards. Yan was a troubled family name, even if Puren had no known family connection to the Rotten Worm. Additionally, the given name was a tad on the nose for her line of work. Mortal lineage, sent to the Argent Sect by the Ministry. Did not thrive in the environment but was able to secure a position as a worker in the Argent Sect's Administration. Typically delivering letters and sorting mail. Frequented a tea store in town and seemed to favor their honeyed nuts.
"Thank you Yan Puren," I said softly as I passed her. "I'll be sure to purchase some honeyed nuts from The Steeped Fragrance for you as thanks for the timely reminder."
Yan Puren squeaked like a mouse and ducked her head in a deep bow. Her face was ashen white, and I could almost literally see the gears turning in her mind. What did I know? How did I know it? Have I been watching her? How long have I been watching her? Had she done something to warrant such observation? Around and around her little thoughts swirled tinged with fear. Which was good. A little fear made a person predictable. And I liked it when others were predictable. It made my work easy.
Stepping forward and out, I marched down the hallway, my steps echoing off the stone. Ahead of me was the brilliant light of the Argent Sect's arena, and already I could hear the swelling noise of the crowd. A tuning of my ears filtered out most of the dross, allowing Zhishi to filter and highlight the important conversations. Well, some of them. The most important persons were secured with wards and veils that I could not yet pierce letting them plot and plan with impunity. As I exited the portal into the arena proper, I noted to my right the box holding Cai Xishi talking with Mother. I nodded to them and saw Mother smile back, bright and proud. Then, stepping up to the platform across my opponent, I slid my helmet on.
Across from me stood Zi Haode, his everpresent smirk plastered on his face. Zhishi bubbled worryingly, trying to share information in his repository. I skimmed it but gently pushed back. I had memorized Haode's information before the tournament, and even with Zhishi's best efforts, no new information had been dredged. A fact that caused Zhishi no end of indignation.
Zi Haode had been scouted by the Ministry and had flourished in the turmoil of the Outer Sect. Aligning himself with the rebellious and disenfranchised, he quickly distinguished himself with the speed of his cultivation and the brutality of his combat. Not content with disabling an opponent, he had tried to make an art of almost crippling his adversaries. Pushing the boundaries of violence the Argent Sect permitted, but never going so far beyond that a response was absolutely required. And, surprisingly, he had been able to fully advance into the Green realm a month ahead of the tournament. Wood and lightning were his favored elements, with the spear his best-practiced weapon. I would not be able to beat him in speed, but neither could he endure my strikes.
Zi Haode opened his mouth to speak, but the platform twisted and I found myself within a field of rolling hills and tall wheat. As I stepped forward, rustling the grass, I listened. A gentle breeze blew from the south, but no birds or insects chirped. It was quiet. Except for the beating heart, the light steps, and the parting stalks twenty meters in front of me.
"Don't bother hiding in the grass like a field mouse, Haode." I said, my voice echoing deeply because of my helmet. "I know you're there."
I heard a snort from Zi Haode, and then a sharp whistling closing in on me rapidly. With a shift of my shoulder, I brought my shield up, letting the flying blade skate across as it peeled behind me. A cruel piece of work, my opponent's flying weapon was built with sharp curves and wicked hooks. All the better to slice and pull. However, Haode's inexperience with flying blades shone through with the attack. It was direct, slow, and clumsy. At the most he would have had a month to practice, clearly not long enough for him to become comfortable with the tool.
At its next pass, I grabbed the blade's pommel and twirled, letting the blade's momentum help me shove the weapon blade first into the loam. Then I flexed my qi, bringing to bear the heat and weight of the deep mountain's blood. Molten stone gushed out of my hand, trying to crush the blade. It wouldn't, flying weapons were built too tough to be broken by such a method, but as the stone cooled it would further unbalance the blade, making it even heavier and more difficult to maneuver. But I knew Zi Haode wouldn't wait for me to fully encase his weapon. I could already hear him charging my back.
Releasing the flying blade, I turned, letting my dao drop into my hand from my storage ring. Bracing behind my tower shield, I winced as Haode's spear slammed into it, causing a gong-like sound to reverberate outwards. Flexing my qi in a well-rehearsed pattern, I conjured a flaming ball above my helmet. It was hot enough to begin burning the grass right next to me, but it would not deter a cultivator of Zi Haode's power. What it would do, though, was even more insidious.
Most cultivators, especially young ones from mortal families, perceived qi in a visual sense. A reasonable way to understand a world of senses that someone had just uncovered. But an exploitable habit. The technique I used was just the tool to do so. Painting everything in my qi signature, it caused confusion in those with a less developed sense of qi. Like my opponent.
A quick jab poked past my shield and skittered across my side. Foreign qi sprouted, like wildly growing vines mixed with the scent of ozone. The technique found a joint in my armpit and jabbed through, slicing through my skin and trying to infest my body. I burned it, my blood heated beyond mortal limits searing the wound shut. Swinging my dao in response, I let molten metal spray from the blade in a specific pattern. Zi Haode backed up, leaving a trail of flickering lightning in his wake, letting the metal fall on the ground. He paid it no further mind, and I grinned.
The pattern continued, Zi Haode would jab in and try to slide his spear into an opening, I would block and slash, letting metal spray. He would never let the molten liquid hit him, backing out of the way quickly and repositioning himself. Slowly, the smoldering grass burned away, the smoke rising high into the sky as barren land was exposed in a circle all around me. Eventually, after twenty repetitions, I was satisfied with my work. With the Haode's next jab, I angled my shield to let the spear pass below my arm and dropped my dao onto the ground. Grabbing his forward arm, I pulled him in close, pressing him against my chest armor. Then I activated the formations I had been spraying on the ground. Heat and pressure bloomed and a raging inferno pressed Zi Haode into my blistering armor even further. Seared from both sides, he was only able to let out a short anguished scream before he was pulled out of the arena by the proctor.
As the tournament field dissolved like snow, I saw Mother's beaming smile and clapping hands. A different warmth than the searing heat of my flames seeped into my heart as I took off my helmet with a beaming smile and nodded at her.
A/N: @yrsillar another omake for the omake throne! It feels like it's been a while since I've done one, and I fully blame Path of Exile for sinking its jaws into me. This might make sense given that this bit is about an expy of the Searing Exarch. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Winchester
Buzzzzzkill
- Location
- Creeping towards your ear
The problem is that he's effectively a political commissar - what he can do is report back to his bosses that Ling Qi is insufficiently patriotic by not acting immediately in what he perceives to be the best interest of the Empire because she's being too conciliatory to the barbarians. It's not a huge problem as he's still junior to her, but if he convinces his boss, who is senior? Then the whole thing could be sunk.
As was explained by someone else above, the White Sky operates on a reverse gender morality, and what the person who threw the punch saw was effectively a man grabbing a girl for a reason that was not obvious.
Based solely on the evidence and cultural knowledge we have on hand, my gut feeling is that this should be resolved with a mutual apology, possibly compensation for the physical injury, and a safety course for all participants so that everyone at least knows both sides words for "stop, danger!", and that once these words are spoken, *work stops* until a translator can mediate.
kfrar
Aspiring Encyclopedia
The Imperial actions are an issue because of a violation of cultural norms, and the White Sky actions are an issue because of a violation of the specific cultural norm against breaking people's jaws. That WS third realm could have separated our craftswoman from the WS boy without causing injury, but she instead chose violence, and that warrants an apology.
We'll be sure to properly investigate to make sure we're not missing anything, but given the information we have now, the White Sky is absolutely more culpable in this incident. We can certainly offer to set up some cultural education to avoid missteps like this in the future, and if mitigating circumstances come to light then obviously we'll account for them, but as things stand we absolutely should be pressing the White Sky to apologize to us rather than going for some classic both sides compromise.
Acting like we were just as in the wrong would not only be literally incorrect, it would genuinely piss off the MoI in a way that would be completely justified, which we really don't need to deal with right now. Ideally, we find out this was all some elaborate geomantic plot and we can just blame a third party, but if not? There's a fine line between framing everything as a series of dominance games and just showing that you have a spine to your negotiating partner, and this incident falls in the latter category.
We'll be sure to properly investigate to make sure we're not missing anything, but given the information we have now, the White Sky is absolutely more culpable in this incident. We can certainly offer to set up some cultural education to avoid missteps like this in the future, and if mitigating circumstances come to light then obviously we'll account for them, but as things stand we absolutely should be pressing the White Sky to apologize to us rather than going for some classic both sides compromise.
Acting like we were just as in the wrong would not only be literally incorrect, it would genuinely piss off the MoI in a way that would be completely justified, which we really don't need to deal with right now. Ideally, we find out this was all some elaborate geomantic plot and we can just blame a third party, but if not? There's a fine line between framing everything as a series of dominance games and just showing that you have a spine to your negotiating partner, and this incident falls in the latter category.
- Location
- Chicago
- Pronouns
- She/They
The imperial physically accosted the white sky, and the white sky responded in kind to that aggression.
The assumption that grabbing someone and punching someone aren't the same thing, or that the imperial would not have escalated further than just grabbing, are the cultural biases the imperial side is coming in with that the white sky probably doesn't share.
- Location
- Finland
And we still lack the White Sky perspective of the issue, and have not investigated any potential sabotage by a 3rd party.
Yes, we should not just assume "imperial bad" automatically, but then we should also not just follow the advice of someone who we know is from an organization actively hostile to our goals, and from a clan even more hostile to our methods.
Yes, we should not just assume "imperial bad" automatically, but then we should also not just follow the advice of someone who we know is from an organization actively hostile to our goals, and from a clan even more hostile to our methods.
- Location
- South Africa
The issue is that the imperial in the first place just grabbed the person: she didn't physically assault him - which is what happened to the white sky. Also if you are forcing us to view the incident from the White Sky's cultural background we would be fully in our rights to force the White Sky to view it from our (the Empire's cultural background) which is a higher tier male cultivator physically assaulted a lower tier female cultivator. By this measure, the White Sky comes off worse.
Secondly, the incident happened because the Empire worker needed to stop the White Sky worker immediately. This gives her a fair amount of latitude (the amount of latitude given will be clarified after examining the geomancy issue). Whereas the third realm White Sky cultivator, by virtue of being in the third realm and a trained soldier should have been able to separate the builders without harm.
In general, I struggle to see how the Empire is at fault here (except in the distant scenario that the Empire worker deliberately acted in such a way as to make it impossible to communicate with the White Sky) whereas even if there are mitigating circumstances (which I can easily see occurring with the failure of the White Sky worker respond promptly), the fact remains that the guard did knowingly physically assault and injure a lower realm cultivator, which as I mentioned before is a big issue to the empire.
If there turns out to be reasonable mitigating circumstances for the guard, I would still expect an apology, although in those cases it could be an apology along the lines of "Sorry for misreading the situation/being deceived by the Spirit, and thus injuring you"
kfrar
Aspiring Encyclopedia
If we were talking about a cosmetic xianxia classic face-slap or something I might agree, but the lady literally got a tooth punched out and she's stuck being tended to with cultivator medical treatment to regrow it. Nothing stopped the WS woman from just grabbing the imperial woman back to make her unhand the WS guy, but the WS guard instead chose to physically harm one of our people, and the imperial craftswoman's motive for grabbing the WS man is reasonable enough that the injury cannot just be excused as retributive justice.
We don't need or want to press the WS against the wall for this, but given the information we have, we will be needing an apology. We can still throw them some bones, maybe suggest that we personally should have ensured our workers would be better educated on cultural conflicts, but claiming equal culpability in this context would just be incorrect.
I can only say "given the information we have" so many times in a single post. If we find new information that reveals further culpability from the Imperial side or that lets us blame everything on a common enemy, we will adjust our approach accordingly.
- Location
- South Africa
To further emphasis this, based off the evidence we ourselves have collected, not just taking the MOI at their word. In this case the evidence seems, to line up with the MOI (although I would fully agree that the MOI is just taking the first conclusion and not seeking to do any more work, and that the goals of the MOI and us are different)
- Pronouns
- He/Him
In a lot of cultures, including today's in many countries, grabbing someone is absolutely legally physical assault and punching them in response is absolutely allowed both legally and morally. The safety issue may ameliorate that. Maybe. But acting like 'they just grabbed them' is not assault is not a good argument...honestly, from what we've seen that's the sort of thing that can get you punched in the Empire as well.
And both the cultivator who got hit and the one doing the hitting were female, so the genders are irrelevant in the Imperial context.
This is why I think speculating now is pointless. We are, in fact, going to get more information. That information will, in fact, change the picture and thus what we should do. It may make things look even worse for the White Sky, but it'll change it in some way. Saying 'if nothing changes' is imagining a scenario that will not occur.
- Location
- South Africa
The main issue with the assault is that it is a higher realm assaulting a lower realm.
With the hitting, the issue is that the Empire was not in reality committing assault and didn't cause any actual harm, and were acting to prevent a genuine error, one which would have had genuine consequences.
I don't blame the White Sky guard for acting (although the level of response is arguably too high, considering the realm difference), but the guard did cause actual harm and for that, I do expect an apology.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
That's definitely an issue depending on context, yes.
Grabbing someone is, in our own real world legal system, legally equivalent to hitting them, it is assault. 'Actual harm' is a very subjective measure, and it can be argued that 'actual harm' was only not done to the person being grabbed because it was prevented by stopping the person doing the grabbing. Also, it being a genuine error that they were stopping is entirely unproven. Could be true, but it's not proven yet.
Again, if the grabbing was in the wrong and/or a prelude to actual harm, then the guard was entirely in the right by most real world legal codes, and probably both their own and that of the Empire. Is that true? I consider it unlikely at the moment, but evidence could easily come to light to change that opinion.
Grabbing and hitting are fundamental different. The key lies in the intent.
If you throw a punch to someone, you are trying to harm them. That's an assault and a crime.
If you grab someone wrist, it doesn't have to be so. There are situations where it is an assault. For example, if you are arguing with someone and they trie to leave, then you grab them because "how dare they turn their back to me!". But the crime there is forcefully retaining the person, not the grabbing.
That's the difference. If you punch someone you are trying to hurt them. If you grab someone wrist, specifically in this kind of situation, your are just trying to get them to listen to you, or stop them from doing something they shouldn't.
There is nothing inherently wrong with physically stopping a person if the situation requires it. Equating grabbing and hitting is nonsensical.
Grabbing a person's wrist is not an agressive, violent act like punching them is.
Even if the WS has a gender swapped culture about the use of force and contact that doesn't excuse or justify the guard's reaction. It certainly doesn't exempt of having to present an apology or entitle them to one.
We still need to their side of the story, of course. But assuming that the worker's testimony is true and exact, the correct resolution is for the WS, an only the WS, to issue a formal apology.
If you throw a punch to someone, you are trying to harm them. That's an assault and a crime.
If you grab someone wrist, it doesn't have to be so. There are situations where it is an assault. For example, if you are arguing with someone and they trie to leave, then you grab them because "how dare they turn their back to me!". But the crime there is forcefully retaining the person, not the grabbing.
That's the difference. If you punch someone you are trying to hurt them. If you grab someone wrist, specifically in this kind of situation, your are just trying to get them to listen to you, or stop them from doing something they shouldn't.
There is nothing inherently wrong with physically stopping a person if the situation requires it. Equating grabbing and hitting is nonsensical.
Grabbing a person's wrist is not an agressive, violent act like punching them is.
Even if the WS has a gender swapped culture about the use of force and contact that doesn't excuse or justify the guard's reaction. It certainly doesn't exempt of having to present an apology or entitle them to one.
We still need to their side of the story, of course. But assuming that the worker's testimony is true and exact, the correct resolution is for the WS, an only the WS, to issue a formal apology.
- Location
- Chicago
- Pronouns
- She/They
Um. As mentioned above, grabbing someone IS a physical assault.
And the punching happened because the white sky needed to stop the imperial immediately, because they had no idea how things were going to escalate if not stopped right away.
And this is a great example of a cultural-specific norm being assumed to be universal. They may be different to you. The law where I am does not regard then as such.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
This is a coherent ethical position. It is not, however, the only coherent ethical position (a right to personal bodily autonomy and not to be touched without one's permission in any way leaps immediately to mind as a counterpoint that I believe in personally), and it is not the position taken by the vast majority of real world legal systems or, I suspect, those of either of the polities involved in this.
Blood and Mist 1
Li Suyin couldn't help but wring her hands, standing in the section of the stadium reserved for Outer Sect disciples. She knew it was a bad habit, that nervous fidgeting, that it led to being looked down upon, a sign of weakness and uncertainty. She had been training herself to avoid the gesture.
But looking down on one of her best friends, standing in the arena with one of the most powerful cultivators of their year, listening to the Sun Princess so politely explain the punishment for a year's worth of losses and insults that she was going to inflict… It was impossible not to feel sick down to her stomach.
Because Ling Qi wouldn't simply take a harsh blow and surrender, like a sensible person, when overmatched like this. No, she would keep going. It was admirable. It was frustrating. She wished she had such courage. Yet…
Li Suyin touched the gaudy fabric of her eye patch. She had tried to be brave once. This was her reward. She bit her lip as the arena field shimmered under the masterful illusion formations of the Sect. She honestly disliked all of this fighting, but the display of mastery, of array sets capable of generating an entire temporary world space, were inspiring. Viewing them in action almost made up for all of this pointless bloodshed.
She knew that was childish of her. Great heroes and cultivators needed to test themselves against each other and the world constantly to advance. That was why she was ill suited for higher cultivation. She just… didn't like fighting. That was why she had focused so hard on developing the constructs Ling Qi had shared with her.
Of course, Senior Sister had already berated her squeamishness. As if doing violence at a remove made it better. She was improving.
She just hoped Ling Qi wouldn't be in too poor a shape to attend the rest of the tournament, if…
A horrible grinding noise erupted from within the arena, and Li Suyin's mouth fell open as the Princess struck at her friend, a peerless undodgeable strike with the spear.
And Ling Qi endured it. Not unhurt but merely scratched.
She heard the eruption of whispers around her as the blow that should have been the one to reduce this to a predator's game became the first of many.
And Ling Qi held up. Retreating, desperate, and overwhelmed, but not helpless.
…Li Suyin felt truly pitiable. She had given up on her friend, but it was clear that Ling Qi had not given up on herself. How shameful of her. Li Suyin truly had no excuses.
But, for all of that struggle… what was she hoping to accomplish?
It wasn't the in your face pride of some of the preening babies who called themselves nobles around here, but it was sure as fuck a kind of pride. The pride of a kicked dog who had decided to bite. It was the same sort of shit as Suyin's little revenge 'pranks' that she thought Su Ling didn't notice her preparing.
Well, she guessed Ling Qi could afford a bigger pride than either of them. Shoulda bothered her, the way the girl didn't recognize how much further she was from the starting position than Su Ling Was. Acting like Su Ling could do it too if she just tried harder. That sort of attitude shoulda been infuriating.
In the jungle the roar of ripping shredding barbs going through wood and qi made Su Ling's ears lie flat against the side of her head, made her cross her arms and hunch her shoulders, all but grinding her teeth. Standing in the corner of the spectators box, her tail lashed, and a few of the other disciples glanced her way and shuffled back a step, or gave one of those snotty little sniffs that told her they thought she was acting like an animal.
Personally, she didn't care about either. Her eyes tracked the flow of the fight, the crimson demon chasing the shadow through a haze of mist and phantoms.
The Question was, what was she doing? She'd expended that bone puppet Suyin and Ling Qi had made in the first instants. Her domain sword was getting battered apart. Her spirit beast was steadily losing to the princess. So what was the point?
She'd already spat in the Sun bitch's face just by not going down in the opening exchange, after all of that big talk before the match. Every second longer added a bit more burn, sure. Maybe her boss had told her to just hold out as long as she could?
…No, she didn't buy that pure, pure, purity and justice bullshit, but she didn't see that one ordering Ling Qi to do that either. That one… too little pride if anything, that's what her instincts said.
No, Ling Qi wouldn't just take a thrashing for the sake of pride so…
Her tail froze as Ling Qi blasted off a wave of sickening qi that stank of wine and sweat, and That nasty tree ghoul the Princess toted around flickered and reappeared.
Revealing weaknesses, making her use tricks. That made some sense. Everyone figured it'd be the snake and the princess come finals time, or at least princess versus princess. Both of 'em were also on Ling Qi's short list. Buying advantage with blood.
Su Ling growled under her breath, she didn't much care for that, but at least she'd figured it out. 'Course, that was running its course now, so…
She smelled the surge of fire, the sulfur and smoke and ash. The attention occupied, the desperate defense. Ling Qi, that fucking crazy girl. She'd set her sights higher than that. Blasting the ghoul hard enough that there was no way she'd be recovered fully for the next match.
She sucked in a breath through her teeth as the sound of tearing flesh and shattering armor came next, the barbed spear punching out of Ling Qi's back. Her instincts told her it was a slow death, that wound, but she knew better with how well the Sect could heal… when they wanted.
When the Sun girl was declared the winner, her expression sure didn't look like someone who'd won though.
Ling Qi. Fucking girl refused to lose completely even when she had no chance, huh?
But looking down on one of her best friends, standing in the arena with one of the most powerful cultivators of their year, listening to the Sun Princess so politely explain the punishment for a year's worth of losses and insults that she was going to inflict… It was impossible not to feel sick down to her stomach.
Because Ling Qi wouldn't simply take a harsh blow and surrender, like a sensible person, when overmatched like this. No, she would keep going. It was admirable. It was frustrating. She wished she had such courage. Yet…
Li Suyin touched the gaudy fabric of her eye patch. She had tried to be brave once. This was her reward. She bit her lip as the arena field shimmered under the masterful illusion formations of the Sect. She honestly disliked all of this fighting, but the display of mastery, of array sets capable of generating an entire temporary world space, were inspiring. Viewing them in action almost made up for all of this pointless bloodshed.
She knew that was childish of her. Great heroes and cultivators needed to test themselves against each other and the world constantly to advance. That was why she was ill suited for higher cultivation. She just… didn't like fighting. That was why she had focused so hard on developing the constructs Ling Qi had shared with her.
Of course, Senior Sister had already berated her squeamishness. As if doing violence at a remove made it better. She was improving.
She just hoped Ling Qi wouldn't be in too poor a shape to attend the rest of the tournament, if…
A horrible grinding noise erupted from within the arena, and Li Suyin's mouth fell open as the Princess struck at her friend, a peerless undodgeable strike with the spear.
And Ling Qi endured it. Not unhurt but merely scratched.
She heard the eruption of whispers around her as the blow that should have been the one to reduce this to a predator's game became the first of many.
And Ling Qi held up. Retreating, desperate, and overwhelmed, but not helpless.
…Li Suyin felt truly pitiable. She had given up on her friend, but it was clear that Ling Qi had not given up on herself. How shameful of her. Li Suyin truly had no excuses.
But, for all of that struggle… what was she hoping to accomplish?
***
Ling Qi had never lacked for pride, had she.It wasn't the in your face pride of some of the preening babies who called themselves nobles around here, but it was sure as fuck a kind of pride. The pride of a kicked dog who had decided to bite. It was the same sort of shit as Suyin's little revenge 'pranks' that she thought Su Ling didn't notice her preparing.
Well, she guessed Ling Qi could afford a bigger pride than either of them. Shoulda bothered her, the way the girl didn't recognize how much further she was from the starting position than Su Ling Was. Acting like Su Ling could do it too if she just tried harder. That sort of attitude shoulda been infuriating.
In the jungle the roar of ripping shredding barbs going through wood and qi made Su Ling's ears lie flat against the side of her head, made her cross her arms and hunch her shoulders, all but grinding her teeth. Standing in the corner of the spectators box, her tail lashed, and a few of the other disciples glanced her way and shuffled back a step, or gave one of those snotty little sniffs that told her they thought she was acting like an animal.
Personally, she didn't care about either. Her eyes tracked the flow of the fight, the crimson demon chasing the shadow through a haze of mist and phantoms.
The Question was, what was she doing? She'd expended that bone puppet Suyin and Ling Qi had made in the first instants. Her domain sword was getting battered apart. Her spirit beast was steadily losing to the princess. So what was the point?
She'd already spat in the Sun bitch's face just by not going down in the opening exchange, after all of that big talk before the match. Every second longer added a bit more burn, sure. Maybe her boss had told her to just hold out as long as she could?
…No, she didn't buy that pure, pure, purity and justice bullshit, but she didn't see that one ordering Ling Qi to do that either. That one… too little pride if anything, that's what her instincts said.
No, Ling Qi wouldn't just take a thrashing for the sake of pride so…
Her tail froze as Ling Qi blasted off a wave of sickening qi that stank of wine and sweat, and That nasty tree ghoul the Princess toted around flickered and reappeared.
Revealing weaknesses, making her use tricks. That made some sense. Everyone figured it'd be the snake and the princess come finals time, or at least princess versus princess. Both of 'em were also on Ling Qi's short list. Buying advantage with blood.
Su Ling growled under her breath, she didn't much care for that, but at least she'd figured it out. 'Course, that was running its course now, so…
She smelled the surge of fire, the sulfur and smoke and ash. The attention occupied, the desperate defense. Ling Qi, that fucking crazy girl. She'd set her sights higher than that. Blasting the ghoul hard enough that there was no way she'd be recovered fully for the next match.
She sucked in a breath through her teeth as the sound of tearing flesh and shattering armor came next, the barbed spear punching out of Ling Qi's back. Her instincts told her it was a slow death, that wound, but she knew better with how well the Sect could heal… when they wanted.
When the Sun girl was declared the winner, her expression sure didn't look like someone who'd won though.
Ling Qi. Fucking girl refused to lose completely even when she had no chance, huh?
Turns out Ling Qi not getting stomped immediately was already a humiliation for Sun Liling. Top kek.
It would have required rolling a bunch of natural 20s, but I can only imagine the uproar if Qi had actually through some inexplicable fluke won.
It would have required rolling a bunch of natural 20s, but I can only imagine the uproar if Qi had actually through some inexplicable fluke won.
Okay, let's try this with a real life example.
Imagine that there are 2 mechanics, a man and a woman, working on a car's engine in the street. The female mechanic is about to make a mistake. Not something that will endanger her, but something that will cause a lot of trouble and will extend the reparations for several hours. To avoid that, the male mechanic tells her to stop and grabs her wrist when she doesn't do so.
Then a policeman that was standing nearby sees that and rushes over to punch the guy in the face.
Are you really telling me that they male mechanic holds some of the fault because he "initiated the aggresion through unwanted contact" or that we should understand that the policeman's culture includes defending women and punching their "aggressors"?
Has the male mechanic somehow commited a crime and infringed the female's mechanics fundamental rights, and so he deserves to be punished and has to apologize?
Punching being worse than grabbing is not a cultural belief, it's an objective fact.
"Not to be touched without one's permission" is a perfectly fine rigth to have in a vacuum. But then comes the one thousand exceptions. First of all, is that it's meant to be applied to unwanted advances, not to casual and innocuous contact like touching someone in the shoulder.
If an individual has personal problems with physical contact, that's up to them to deal with. People who knows about their condition should respect it of course, but the world at large doesn't have the obligation of never touching another person unless explicit permission is granted.
Especially not when the situation does warrant physical intervention.
Imagine that there are 2 mechanics, a man and a woman, working on a car's engine in the street. The female mechanic is about to make a mistake. Not something that will endanger her, but something that will cause a lot of trouble and will extend the reparations for several hours. To avoid that, the male mechanic tells her to stop and grabs her wrist when she doesn't do so.
Then a policeman that was standing nearby sees that and rushes over to punch the guy in the face.
Are you really telling me that they male mechanic holds some of the fault because he "initiated the aggresion through unwanted contact" or that we should understand that the policeman's culture includes defending women and punching their "aggressors"?
Has the male mechanic somehow commited a crime and infringed the female's mechanics fundamental rights, and so he deserves to be punished and has to apologize?
Punching being worse than grabbing is not a cultural belief, it's an objective fact.
"Not to be touched without one's permission" is a perfectly fine rigth to have in a vacuum. But then comes the one thousand exceptions. First of all, is that it's meant to be applied to unwanted advances, not to casual and innocuous contact like touching someone in the shoulder.
If an individual has personal problems with physical contact, that's up to them to deal with. People who knows about their condition should respect it of course, but the world at large doesn't have the obligation of never touching another person unless explicit permission is granted.
Especially not when the situation does warrant physical intervention.
