#john rawls

Note: Hope you’re still into 30 Days of Night two years later. x_x Eventually I will empty out my inbox. Eventually. Maybe. Mentions of canon-typical violence, but Marlow and Zurial are actually nice to reader. 

Imagine agreeing to being shared by Marlow and Zurial. 

It didn’t immediately occur to you that Marlow and the others were vampires. Pallor aside, their undifferentiated teeth and blackout eyes brought to mind sharks. This was a seaside town. A shiver of predatory mermen stuck on the Alaskan coast, unable or unwilling to migrate to southern waters… Fishmen evolved to grow legs… It made as much sense as anything. 

It wasn’t until you directly witnessed one rip out your neighbor’s larynx did you realize your mistake. Even so, you reasoned, if they’d risen from the depths, they were probably used to swallowing small prey whole. No molars meant chewing was right out. Then there were the problems of dehydration and hyponatremia. It made sense Lamniform’d “humans” slaked their thirst on blood. 

They showed zero mercy to any townspeople they came across. You doubted you would be an exception. Most of your morbid curiosity was quickly quashed, but you needed to know their whereabouts. So you quietly watched them hunt. Later, you wondered if they’d been aware of their audience. At the time you’d felt somewhat safe. By pure coincidence, your resources contained, if the lore was to be believed, many traditional vampire repellents. 

Too bad I’m not dealing with traditional vampires, you had thought, when two men, each with a blood-soaked chin and nocturnal stare, stood in your kitchen. They didn’t immediately acknowledge your presence. Instead, they conversed with each other. About what, you had no earthly clue. It wasn’t in English. All you could do was stay still, eye trained on your unwelcome guests through the threshold. The kitchen door was barely ajar and you stood almost catty-corn from them, afraid to even turn your head. 

From prior observation you knew the older man with the widow’s peak was the leader. The younger, who definitely looked like he’d have asked a vampire to bite him prior to turning (if he hadn’t been born one), deferred to the older. Though even to your ears the chat sounded slightly heated. 

More heated than their bodies, probably. Were they ectotherms or endotherms? 

Your question was about to be answered, you realized, when the younger man’s gaze slid to you. You hadn’t even seen him move. With sclerae and irises black as pupils, his eyes could have been fixed on anything. His slow grin made it apparent they’d landed on his next victim. 

The older one said something. All you could do was hold your ground, wondering if you looked as resigned as you felt. His tongue, a deeper red than any human’s, darted out, lapping at his crimson-coated lips. 

“My name is Marlow,” his elder said, “and this is Zurial.”

“______.” 

Marlow’s face was likewise cleansed. Till there was no evidence of hematophagy. Mouth pressed in a teeth-hiding smile that matched Zurial’s. They were close enough you could finally see the whites of their eyes, still dominated by pupils dilated despite the low light. 

“What are you?”

Perhaps a useless question, but they didn’t treat it as such.

“Vampires.”

They were well dressed, despite the vanished blood having indicated they’d had a feeding frenzy recently. Zurial wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath his jacket, but all that did was make him look like some goth rocker. You were pretty sure he’d had a white tee. Maybe it was in the wash. 

Hydrogen peroxide and cold water, you thought. No one moved. Telepathy was, thankfully, not one of their powers. 

Aloud, “You can use hydrogen peroxide and cold water.”

If you were going to be preyed upon, you wanted to be leached dry. Not a drop wasted. If that was unrealistic, you at least didn’t want to leave any essence of yourself on their clothing. 

“We promise it’s not your lifeblood we’re after,” Marlow confessed, clasping your hand between his icy palms. You felt heat rise to your face, before being softly siphoned into his hold. And then his embrace. 

See? Marlow’s softer smile seemed to say. No gills.

Both his and Zurial’s touch had warmed considerably after you reciprocated their feelings. You were given permission to check their necks and sides for any piscine features. Claws retracted, neither returned your caresses as they patiently waited for your examination to end.

When it did, you nodded. The two men flocked to your side. You stood nude, and they quickly joined in your nakedness. When you’d agreed to throuple with them, they agreed not to “raw” you. At least in the cunt. Marlow wanted so badly for you to consume his seed. Zurial was actually putting on a condom. He’d been somewhat reluctant at first, until Marlow hissed some unknown words to him. It was clear that he wanted to fuck you above all else, even if there was a barrier he wasn’t used to.

Of course like one second later Farrier's like "LOL of course we don't do that, that would be stupid." And honestly initially I was so excited to take him at his word (yes I am wearing my clown shoes) because it sounded essentially like a take on the "Original Position" in John Rawls' Justice as Fairness.

Essentially, the Original Position is a thought experiment in which people would come up the basic structure of the society in which they would live BUT they would have absolutely no idea of what their own personal traits would be - the idea being that because they do not know what their specific positions would be in the society, participants would create society which was fair, rational, impartial, etc.

And I think that is just SO INTERESTING in light of the Brain's discussion of how people can never really free themselves of the confines of their own perception in Tyrant - "I cannot clear my eyes of the veils they were born with". Information exists objectively in the world but once it enters our perception it is filtered through all of the experiences we have had, the culture we have been raised in, the education we have received (the "veils").

So, it is interesting that Falcrest and the Cancrioth sort of seem to agree on this point. However, I think that the Brain's comments suggest that even not knowing anything about yourself would not necessarily be enough to be rid of biases. All of the information the Emperor would have received is filtered though all of the experiences he would have learned up to that point. To take a simple example, seeing Taranoke called Sousward on maps - it doesn't matter where the Emperor was originally from, that renaming would inform the decisions he made. Not "remembering" who he was in a past life actually makes it harder to make fair choices because he does not have any clue to what his own biases may have been.

THE DANCE OF JUSTICE: A RAWLSIAN PERSPECTIVE IN SRIVIDYA NATARAJAN'S THE UNDOING DANCE

Devadasis are women dedicated to a Hindu deity or temple. They often learn and perform classical dances and music as part of their service. However, the tradition has a complex history and has been associated with both cultural significance and social exploitation.

This article delves into the role of Bharatanatyam, a classical Indian dance, as a transformative force for Kalyani, the protagonist in the novel The Undoing Dance (2018). It investigates how Bharatanatyam serves not only as a form of artistic expression but also as a means of transcending caste boundaries and societal expectations. By applying the concept of the difference principle, a framework within socio-political theory, the study examines how caste-based discrimination is confronted and reimagined through the medium of dance.

Read the full article here.