Organized labor essays

Organized labor essays Organized labor, during the period from 1875 to 1900, was not as successful in improving the position of workers as one was hoping it would be. There are many results that arose from these organized labor attempts that prove how unsuccessful they actually were. These results include the collapse of many labor unions such as, NLU, Knights of Labor, and ARU, the failure of many strikes such as, the Great Railroad Strike, the Haymarket Riot, and the Pullman Strike, and the techniques used by management to defeat labor. The National Labor Union, otherwise known as NLU, was organized following the time of the Civil War. This labor union was created by William Sylvis. The NLU had a couple of main goals. One goal was to return to the ways of early America; the time when workers controlled the average workday and could actually make a decent living and not have to work their heart and soul out for pennies a day. They demanded eight hour work days, on average, eight hours for work, eight hours for rest, eight hours for what we will. They wanted equal opportunities for craft workers, skilled and unskilled workers, and even reformers. The only exclusions were those involved with banks, defending (lawyers), and the disbursement of liquor. At their height, more than 600,000 people were involved with this union, making it the first largest national union. By the early 1870s, the NLU had created their own political party, a third party. But, to much disappointment, in the elections of 1872, they lost, heavily. With the Panic of 1872 and the Depression in the mid-1870s, the NLU collapsed. The Knights of Labor was established in 1871 by Uriah Stephens, a Protestant. Many were drawn to this organization. These Knights were led by Terence V. Powderly and was open to any variety of the working class. In 1878, they fought for equal pay for women and even le...

HW Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words - 5

HW - Essay Example Gestures have been used effectively as well; the movement of the fingers to indicate the turning on of a vehicles ignition key at 0:03, the movements of the feet to indicate engagement of the gear pedals (0:04), hand movements to indicate the turning of the steering wheels (0:12), the circling of the hands by the two ladies to demonstrate the position and use of seatbelts (0:44), the bending and splashing away of the contents on the stool to show the effect of inertia (0:56). Body positions have been used as well but not as effectively as possible. The ladies sitting position (0:08) indicate relaxation, and towards the end it indicates the urgency of the moment (1:08), their position indicates relaxation (1:16). Thus, non-verbal communication was effectively used in the advertisement. The choice of non-verbal communication by the creators instead of using words captures the attention of the viewer’s better since they are keen to get the message, and this ensures the message is communicated effectively. The message in the ad is that a man driving a car is involved in an accident and ends up not hurt because the seat-belts keep him safe. Had the creators decided to use verbal communication the advertisement wouldn’t have been as effective as it has been since non-verbal communication captures the attention of the viewer to the end by raising interest and curiosity in the viewer as opposed to verbal communication. I agree that the creators of this video clip have used non-verbal communication very effectively. Moreover, the clip demonstrated the importance of seatbelts to the safety of a person in a motor vehicle. Besides that, it also demonstrated how a seatbelt can preserve happiness and unity in the family and at the same time enhance safety. This is shown clearly at the end of the clip when the family members are holding each other with an expression of relief

Marketing Ethics and Marketing Success Assignment

Marketing Ethics and Marketing Success - Assignment Example Any such deficiency sooner or later is likely to have a rebound effect on the future success or failure of the business organization. Rigorous application of marketing ethics is therefore essential for any short or long-term success. ‘Ethics are the moral principles and values that govern the actions and decisions of an individual or group’- (www-rohan.sdsu.edu). Whenever a moral dilemma surfaces during the course of some action, ethics provide the guidelines for taking the appropriate decision. They are unlike the law in the pretext that the latter is enforceable in a court of justice while the former is to be practiced conscientiously. Ethical violations can either be intentional or inadvertent (Upshaw, 2005). Intentional violations include conspiracies to defraud, mismanagement for financial gain and cover-ups for illegal actions and the inadvertent violations include regulatory abuse due to ignorance, poor products due to inadequate quality controls and unintended environmental damage (Upshaw, 2005). Historically, in actual situations, however, it has been seen that ethics are sometimes neglected in order to attain short-term gains in the volatile consumer market. Ethical practices have frequently been ignored in order to make immediate profits but proved disastrous in the long term. One such example is that of Pfizer Pharmaceuticals Company which has a worldwide presence but has been known to violate business ethics on numerous occasions. The company is one of the giants in research and development on drugs and has come up with innovative products for human as well animal use. Healthcare ethics have a standard which is unparalleled in any other organization as it directly involves playing with human life. Pfizer has been blamed for launching new drugs without issuing warnings of the side effects associated with their use which could prove fatal in individuals prone to such side effects.  Ã‚  

What Constitutes Coercion Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words

What Constitutes Coercion - Essay Example Legally in the law, coercion is a duress crime. This action is used to force the victim as leverage to act in a desired manner. Coercion involves actual psychological harm, physical injury or pain infliction in order to promote the credibility of threats. This threat of continuous harm may result in the person being coerced to cooperate and remain obedient. Coercion becomes torture when it is extremely applied, for instance, infliction of severe pain in a person until the desired response is got from the victim. Â  Coercion involves various levels. The strongest form of coercion entails killing a victim. Another level of coercion is threatening to take the life of a person unless the person remains obedient. Threats of robbing, beating, or incarcerate makes another level of coercion. Some of the strong forms of coercion include the threat of force, force or even deadly force on people. Government law enforcing agencies such as police operates with various levels of coercion. For instance, threatening to apply force to a criminal in order to get a confession is police work, but actual torture is police misconduct. As a police force, criminals may be compelled to give a testimony and in the process, some threat of force may be used. This remains police work as long as the deadly force is not applied to the victim. Any subsequent torture or force on the victim who has already confessed or not is considered police misconduct. In cases where police successfully retrieve information from a crimi nal by use of force or intimidation, then we can proudly say, the means justifies the end. At that level, coercion is acceptable especially if the case was a matter of national security. However, the level of the acceptable coercion needs to be measured in terms of seriousness to avoid cases where a victim ends up dead in the process of interrogation by a law enforcement agency.

The Psychology Of Fashion

The Psychology Of Fashion Over the second half of the last century, the body has emerged as an object central to our behavior and to our drive for meaning. Therefore, fashion, being in close contact to our bodies, has started to receive the attention of public, artists, and intellectuals. Psychology of fashion expression It is a common saying, that individuals play the roles associated with their individuality and rank in society. One always has the wish to have a job in a large company; such companies are usually image-controlled. Companies want their employees to have proper appearance to look successful. Conservative clothing is still the most accepted successful look for an individual. Not only that, but companies want individuals also to reflect the status and professional performance of the company first by the impression left by the way their employers dress. Those who are not playing roles associated with their positions in society appear as odd and not trusted this shows in being careful of what we do or say in their presence. Applying this to a customer employee interaction, the customer response should then be negative, and the impact of such negative response heightens and reaches higher administrative levels. Looking for a job is difficult especially if the aim is high, the way one manages his or her appearance may be an important key in giving a good first impression. The importance may mount to it may not matter what knowledge, approach or personality if one gets a wrong first impression. The answer to the question why employers encourage the image-control programs now becomes clearly comprehendible. The usual societys look for women is that they appear placid. Nevertheless, women began to take on stronger and more authoritative look probably since society approved for them to wear trousers. This reworked copy is still developing; and women now are taking on not to wear makeup, styling hair, and wearing what has always been a mens wear characteristic such as neckties. It is true that a necktie gives reflects accountability, reliability, astuteness, and status, thus, a scarf may not be enough neckwear for women. These body attachments are not only a form of fashionable clothing, but used also to show the uniqueness of an individual. When a job requirement is divergent communication with customers as in sales or public relations, important qualities for selection are good health and good- looking, as well as knowledge and familiarity with the product or firm. Nevertheless, not all managers appreciate these views; instead, they worry perhaps too much about the fashion outlooks, which can be a preference for selection. Psychological theories related to Fashion The bases of psychoanalysis theory as explained by Sigmund Freud are four principles: Organization of personality. Psychosexual phases of development. Instinctive psychological activity. Psychoanalytic method of psychotherapy. Many psychologists applied Freuds psychoanalytic theory to the study of fashion: Theory of shifting attractive zones Fashion historian, James Laver the art historian (1899-1975) theorized the attraction or seduction principle is what governs women fashions. For that, the main drive behind changes in women fashions was the wish to attract the opposite gender. On the other hand, what governs changes in mens fashions is the hierarchy (pecking order or ladder) principle meaning that fashionable mans style highlights the socioeconomic status more than anything else does. According to Laver, females dress, attracts males by discriminatively covering and hiding certain parts of the female anatomy. Thus, different fashions are based on shifting attractive zones. Fashion helps to keep interest in the body by building what can be called attractive capital that is covering up parts for longtime enough to build up a sense of delight when seeing them again. Sexual symbolism of clothing Alison Lurie the American novelist (born in 1926) applied the psychoanalytic theory in her description of what ones handbag communicates. Gender attraction is not all a handbag communicates. Its contents represent the contents of mind, or act as a portable identity clue. At the same time, however, the bag suggests magnet information in the eyes of the observer. A tightly closed, fastened, and folded purse points to a woman who protects her seclusion (physical and emotional). An open-topped heavily loaded bag, points to an open, trusting personality, which may call for approach. A handbag that has many compartments, points to a methodical organized mind or a woman who engages in many activities in life. A one-compartment handbag, on the other hand, points to the opposite especially if disorganized and mixed up. The executive woman who carries a handbag and a brief case together may have two opposing inconsistent characteristics. Lurie, in her book, also discusses the imagery associate d with mens wear (umbrellas, hats, ties, and walking sticks). Fashion is a way of self-expression. It allows people to transfer feelings and thoughts without saying a word, and if I may quote from Thomas Carlyle (the Scottish philosopher and writer 1759-1881); â€Å"Society is founded on fashion†¦ If the cut of the costume signals intellect and talent, then the color suggests temper and heart†.

Definition Essay †Defining God :: Expository Definition Essays

Definition Essay – Defining God The concept of God can be a difficult one to grasp especially in today's world - a world in which anyone that believes in God is trying to define exactly what God is. To even attempt to grasp such a concept, one must first recognize his own beliefs in respect to the following questions: Is God our creator? Is God omnipotent (all-powerful) or omniscient (all-knowing) or both? Does God care? Is God with us? Does God interfere with life on earth? These questions should be asked and carefully answered if one should truly wish to identify his specific beliefs in God's existence and persistence. One common perception of God is that God is not so much a being, but according to seventeenth century philosopher Benedict Spinoza, that "God is everything, identical to the universe itself." That is to say that God is a part of all humans, all animals, all objects, and all matter in the universe. This particular view is called pantheism, which is literally defined to mean that there is no God, but only the combined forces and laws that are manifested in the existing universe. According to Spinoza, we are each and all an integral part of God, not as individuals or even humanity as a whole but as an integral part of what Spinoza called the "One Substance." He also believed that we are each and all components of some greater being, a being so unimaginably large that we are each nothing more than tiny parcels of matter in that being's blood. Another fairly common perception of God is of relation God's necessity to physics, referred to as Deism and heavily supported by the French philosopher Voltaire. This view is of a God who created the universe and then abandoned it, assuming no control over life, exerting no influence on natural phenomena, and giving no supernatural revelation.

Storm Born Chapter Eight

The keep was like a cross between Sleeping Beauty's castle and a gothic church. Towers jauntily sprang up to impossible heights, creating black patches across the evening sky. We'd lost our light now, but I could still see that a lot of the windows looked as though they contained stained glass. I imagined they'd be beautiful in full sunlight. And framing everything, of course, were those brilliant, yellow-orange trees. Volusian had told me that the kingdoms' seasons were dependent on their rulers' whims and could last for extremely long times. This was beautiful, but I couldn't imagine living in a place that was perpetually autumn. I knew some claimed Arizona was perpetually summer, but, then, the people who said that didn't actually live there. The seasons were subtle, but they were there. I had to keep reminding myself I wasn't in some kind of wacky movie as Rurik and his gang led us through twisted hallways lit with torches. People passed, giving us curious looks as they went about whatever one did in a medieval castle. Churning butter. Flogging peasants. I really didn't know, and I didn't care. I just wanted to get out of there. â€Å"Wait here,† Rurik told us when we reached a large set of double oak doors. â€Å"I will speak to the king before you're shown into the throne room.† Wow. An honest-to-goodness throne room. He disappeared behind the doors, and a couple guards watched us but kept their distance. â€Å"Volusian,† I said softly, â€Å"did you purposely lead us here?† â€Å"My only purpose, mistress, is to keep you alive. Being here will increase your chances.† â€Å"You didn't answer the question.† â€Å"You will also increase your chances,† he continued, â€Å"if you are nice to King Dorian.† â€Å"Nice? They just assaulted me and threatened to rape me.† He gave me an exasperated look. â€Å"The king will see you now,† said Rurik dramatically, returning from inside the room. He held the door open for us. Trumpets wouldn't have surprised me. The throne room was not what I expected. Sure, there was a dais with a chair on it, just like in the movies, but the rest of the room was in a state of disarray. A large space ran through the middle, for dancing or processions, perhaps, but the rest had an almost lounge sort of look. Small couches, chaises, and chairs were arranged around low tables set with goblets and platters of fruit. Men and women, again dressed in sort of a goth-Renaissance style, draped themselves on the furniture and on each other, picking idly at the fruit as they watched me. I was put in mind of the way Romans used to dine. More than gentry lounged around, however. Spirits and sprites and trowes and wraiths were also in attendance, along with an assortment of Otherworld creatures. The monsters of human imagining, side by side with magical refugees who had immigrated to this world. I wondered then if any other shaman had been this far into gentry society. I remembered Roland's warning, that I could be taken right into the heart of their world. If only our kind had some sort of scholarly journal. The Journal of Shamanic Assassination and Otherworldly Encounters. I could have used this â€Å"research† to write a compelling article to share with my fellow professionals. Conversation dropped to a low hum as the gentry leaned over and whispered to each other, eyes on me. Smirks and scowls alike lit their faces, and I put on the blank expression I would wear going to meet a new client. Meanwhile, my pulse raced into overdrive and breathing became a bit difficult. Volusian trailed near me on one side while Rurik walked on the other. Wil and the others moved behind us. â€Å"Why all these people?† I murmured to Volusian. â€Å"Is he having a party?† â€Å"Dorian is a social king. He likes keeping people around, most likely so he can mock them. He keeps a full court and regularly invites his nobles to dine here.† We came to a stop. On the throne sat a man, Dorian, I presumed. He looked bored. He leaned into the arm of his chair, one elbow propped on it so he could rest his chin in his hand. It sort of made him view us at an angle. Long auburn hair, reminiscent of the trees outside, hung around him, highlighted with every shade of red and gold conceivable. He could have been autumn incarnate. He had the most perfect skin I'd ever seen in such a vivid redhead: smooth and ivory, with no freckles or rosy color. A cloak of forest-green velvet covered unremarkable dark pants and a loose, white button-up shirt. He had well-shaped cheekbones and delicate features. â€Å"Kneel before the king,† ordered Rurik, â€Å"and get used to being on your knees.† I gave him a withering glance. He smiled. â€Å"I'll be happy to make you,† he warned. â€Å"Bah, enough. Leave her in peace,† intoned Dorian laconically. He didn't change posture. Only his eyes portrayed any sort of interest in these goings-on. â€Å"If she's been with you for the last hour, she deserves a break. Go sit down.† Rurik's smugness flashed to embarrassment, but he bowed before the throne and backed off. That left Dorian and me staring at each other. He grinned. â€Å"Well, come here. If you won't kneel, I at least want to get a good look at the ‘terrible monster' they've brought to me. They all seem quite afraid of you. I confess, I didn't really believe it was you when they told me. I thought Rurik had been into the mushrooms again.† â€Å"Do you know how many of our people she has killed and forcibly banished, sire?† exclaimed Shaya from somewhere behind me. â€Å"She took out three in under a minute just now.† â€Å"Yes, yes. She's quite terrifying. I can see that.† Dorian looked at me expectantly. I shook my head. â€Å"I'm not moving until you offer us hospitality.† This made him sit up. He kept smiling. â€Å"She's clever too, though, admittedly, asking for hospitality before you crossed our humble threshold would have been more clever still since any of my subjects could have attacked you just now.† He shrugged. â€Å"But we've made it this far. So, tell me, Eugenie, why – er, wait. Do you prefer Eugenie or Miss Markham?† I considered. â€Å"I prefer Odile.† That smile twitched. â€Å"Ah. We're still clinging to that, are we? Very well, then, Odile, tell me what brings the shining ones' most feared enemy to my door, asking for hospitality. As you might imagine, this is without precedence.† I glanced around at all the watching, listening people. Ignore them, ignore them, an inner voice whispered. Focus on Dorian for now. â€Å"I don't really want to talk about it in front of the peanut gallery. I'd rather meet with you in private.† â€Å"Oh.† He pitched his voice for the crowd. â€Å"Well, well. Odile wants to meet with me in private.† I blushed, hating myself for doing it. Nervous laughter ran around the room, soon growing stronger and more confident as the king's did. Interesting, I thought. I remembered Volusian's comments about Dorian, and his soldiers' hesitation about his wrath. These gathered people were sheep, obviously, ready to dance or laugh at Dorian's command, but suddenly I wondered if they were sheep who also feared the whims of their capricious shepherd. I wondered if I should be afraid too. I kept my silence, not acknowledging his joke. He leaned forward, putting both elbows on his knees, letting his chin rest in both hands now. â€Å"If I offer you hospitality, you must reciprocate in kind. I'll see that no one harms you in my household, but in return, you can harm no one under my roof.† I glanced back at Volusian. â€Å"You didn't mention that.† â€Å"Oh, for God's sake,† he hissed, displaying a rare loss of patience. â€Å"What did you expect? Take it before your imminent death becomes more imminent and robs me of my chance to kill you myself.† I turned back to Dorian. I didn't like this turn of events. I didn't like being in a nest of gentry, nor did I want to be at one's mercy. Why was I here again? In my head, I summoned an image of little Jasmine Delaney, imagining her being tormented in a similar way over at Aeson's court. Only she would be subject to more than just mockery. â€Å"I accept,† I said. Dorian regarded me in silence and then nodded. â€Å"As do I.† He looked up at the crowd. â€Å"Odile Dark Swan is now under the protection of my hospitality. Anyone who so much as lays a finger on her will get his own fingers chopped off and fed back to him.† He issued the threat with as much cheer as Volusian might have. A buzz spread through the crowd, not entirely pleased. â€Å"What's to keep her from breaking her oath?† I heard someone mutter. Another said loudly, â€Å"She could slay us all!† Dorian's eyes flicked back to me. â€Å"Did you have any idea what a creature of nightmare you are around here? Mothers tell their children Odile Dark Swan will come for them if they're bad.† â€Å"Hey, I don't seek them out. I only come for them if they come for me first.† â€Å"Interesting,† he said, arching an eyebrow. â€Å"But if that's how you like it, so be it. I always admire women who know what they want in the bedroom.† â€Å"Hey, that's not what I – † I hadn't realized the extent to which our slang had permeated the gentry world. Theirs was a reflection of my own; things seeped through. He cut me off with a gesture. â€Å"I gave you hospitality, now come up here. I want to see the terror that haunts the darkness.† I hesitated, both from distrust and defiance to his taunting. Volusian's voice whispered in my ear. â€Å"He will not harm you now that he's given his word.† â€Å"I don't know if I can really believe that.† â€Å"I do.† My minion's voice was calmly serious. â€Å"You know I can't lie to you.† Turning back to Dorian, I took the steps until I stood at the same level as his chair. I met his gaze evenly. â€Å"Look at those eyes,† he sighed happily. â€Å"Like violets in the snow. You smell like them too.† Beyond us, I heard another rise of murmurs in the crowd. â€Å"What's got them all worked up now?† They couldn't hear our discourse. His own eyes danced. They were golden-brown, the color of autumn leaves falling from the trees. â€Å"You've broken protocol. They expected you to stop one step lower. Instead, you've put yourself at the same level as me. The fact that I'm not chastising you means I'm treating you as an equal, like royalty. You should be flattered.† I crossed my arms. â€Å"I'll be more flattered when we have the private talk.† He tsked me. â€Å"So impatient. So human. You've asked for my hospitality. You can't expect me to not give it now.† He made a gesture with his hands, and spirit servants appeared, bearing serving platters of food. For some reason, I suddenly started thinking of the song â€Å"Hotel California.† â€Å"We were about to eat when you so kindly dropped in. Dine with us, and then we'll have as many ‘private encounters' as you like.† â€Å"I'm not stupid. I won't eat anything in the Otherworld. You have to know that.† He shrugged, still sprawled out on his throne like a comfortable cat. â€Å"Your loss. You can sit and watch, then.† He rose gracefully and offered me his hand. I stared at it blankly. Shaking his head with mirth, he simply walked with me down the steps, not touching. â€Å"Where's the rest of my group?† â€Å"Your servants and human friend are safe, I assure you. We've given them their own accommodations since they don't have a guest-of-honor seat at my table, that's all.† He beckoned toward a low, polished table, a bit larger than the others in the room. Like the rest, it was surrounded by sumptuous-looking chairs and sofas, patterned in bright brocades and velvets. Dorian settled down onto a small loveseat and patted the spot beside him. â€Å"Keep me company?† I didn't dignify that with an answer, instead sitting down in the chair next to his sofa. It was a single seat. No one could sit with me. We were soon joined by about a dozen others, including Rurik and Shaya. She reported to Dorian that the people I'd injured had been healed and were recovering. True to my word, I didn't eat any of the food set out before us, but I confess, it looked pretty good. Stuffed Cornish game hens. Fresh bread with steam still rising from it. Desserts I would have committed murder for. But I didn't give in. One of the first rules of the game was to never eat outside your own world. Stories and myths abounded about those foolish enough to ignore that precaution. The other diners tried hard to pretend I didn't exist, but Dorian was fascinated by me. Worse, he flirted with me. At least he wasn't as crass as every other gentry I seemed to encounter, but I didn't rise to any of it – even if it was charming at times. I took it all in with a stoic face, which seemed to delight him that much more. The other women at the table were less resistant. Any look, any word, and they practically melted with lust. In fact, many other people in the room also seemed to melt with lust. Very explicitly so. During and after dinner, I watched as people – couples usually, but sometimes more – touched each other brazenly. It was like being in junior high again. Some of it was just kissing. Some of it was heavy groping – a hand fondling the breast or sliding up the thigh. And some of it was†¦more. Across the room, I saw one woman climb on top of a man and straddle him, moving up and down. I was pretty sure they had nothing on beneath the voluminous folds of her skirt. At a table nearby, one woman was on her knees in front of a man, and she was – I hastily averted my eyes, turning back to my own table. I found Dorian's gaze on me and knew he scrutinized my every reaction. Through some unspoken command, a blond slip of a woman slid into the empty seat beside him, the one I had refused. She draped a leg over his lap and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his neck. He moved one hand up her leg, pushing up the skirt to reveal smooth flesh, but he otherwise seemed oblivious to her as he regarded me and the other guests. Aside from the free love and utterly medieval setting, there was almost something, well, normal about this place. The gentry I'd run into were always causing trouble in my world. Luring humans. Using magic indiscriminately. But this was like any other social occasion or party. People knew each other and regarded their friends with warmth. They discussed love and children and politics. True, they were still foreign and other to me, but I could also almost see them as human. Almost. Needing to do more than sit there and stare, I reached into my coat and pulled out one of the two Milky Way bars I'd brought along. It was also a utilitarian move, seeing as how I was so hungry from watching all the feasting around me. Dorian immediately became intrigued. â€Å"What is that?† I held it up. â€Å"It's a Milky Way. It's†¦candy.† I didn't really know what else to say about it. I wasn't even sure what was in it. Nougat? I had no idea what the hell that foamy stuff was, save that it was delicious. He eyed it curiously, and I broke off a piece, tossing it over to him. He caught it deftly. â€Å"Your majesty,† exclaimed one of the men, â€Å"don't eat it. It's not safe.† â€Å"It won't hurt me here,† rebuked Dorian in annoyance. â€Å"And don't even start in about poison or I'll let Bertha the cook have her way with you again.† The man promptly shut up. Dorian popped the piece into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Watching the expressions his face went through was almost hilarious. It took him awhile to work through all that gooey scrumptiousness, and I fostered a compelling image of him with saltwater taffy. â€Å"Entertaining,† he declared when he'd finished. â€Å"What's in it?† â€Å"I don't know. Some chocolate and caramel. A bunch of stuff sort of fused into other stuff.† One woman, her hair curly and brown, fixed me with a combative look. â€Å"That's so typical of them. They twist nature and the elements for the sake of their perverted creations until they no longer know what it is they do. They are an offense to the divine, bringing forth monstrosities and abominations they cannot control.† A snappy retort rose to my lips, but I bit it off. Volusian had warned me to be nice. In light of their relatively civilized behavior at dinner, I could do no less, so my voice stayed calm. â€Å"Our monstrosities do great things. We can fix injuries you can't. We have plumbing and electricity. We have transportation that makes your horses look like dinosaurs.† â€Å"Like what?† asked one of the men. â€Å"Bad analogy,† I replied. Shaya shook her head. â€Å"We can achieve many of the same results with magic.† â€Å"Magic couldn't do much against my gun earlier.† â€Å"Our people survived. Only a human would brag about her ability to wield death.† â€Å"And you in particular would have good reason to,† pointed out Rurik. â€Å"No other human in memory has killed as many of our kind – spirits or shining ones – as you. You would have killed me last week if you'd had the strength. You would have killed our people in the woods today if you could have.† â€Å"I don't always kill. I even avoid it if I can. But sometimes I have to, and when I do†¦well, then, that's the way it goes.† Glowers regarded me all around the table. Only Dorian's face stayed politely curious. â€Å"Rumor has it you've killed your own kind too,† he noted. â€Å"Doesn't it keep you up at night to have so much blood on your hands?† I leaned back in my chair, as always trying to keep my emotions off my face. It did bother me sometimes, but I didn't want them to know. I hadn't killed many humans – only a handful, really – and most of it had been self-defense. They'd been humans working with gentry or other creatures to do harm in my world. That had justified the kills in some ways, but I could never ignore that I was taking a life. A human life. A life like my own. The first time I'd seen the light fade out of someone's eyes – wrought by my hand – I'd had nightmares for weeks. I'd never told Roland about that, and I certainly wasn't going to tell this group. â€Å"Actually, Dorian, I sleep very well, thank you.† â€Å"It's King Dorian,† hissed a plump man across from me. â€Å"Show respect.† Dorian smiled. The others glared further. â€Å"The gods will punish a murderer like you,† warned one of the women. â€Å"I doubt it. I don't murder anyone. I defend. Everyone I've killed was doing damage to my world or – in the case of those humans – helping your kind cause harm. Those who merely trespass, I don't kill. I just send them back. It's not your world, so I protect my own. That's not a crime.† Dorian sent the blonde away with a quick motion of his hand and leaned over the couch so he could speak closer to me. â€Å"But you know it was once our world too.† â€Å"Yes. And your ancestors left it.† Shaya eyed me, cheeks flushing. â€Å"We were driven out.† Dorian ignored the outburst. â€Å"You gave us no choice. Once we were all one people. Then your ancestors turned away from the power within and sought it without. They built. They subdued nature. They created things with their hands and the elements that we had only thought magic capable of. Some even surpassed what magic could do.† â€Å"So what's wrong with that?† â€Å"You tell me, Odile. Has it been worth it? You can't have it both ways. The ability to force ‘magic' from the world killed the magic within. Your lives shortened as a result compared to ours. Your sense of wonder disappeared, short of anything that can be proven by numbers and facts. Your people will soon have no gods but their machines.† â€Å"And despite all this,† observed Shaya bitterly, â€Å"humans continue to flourish. Why haven't they been cursed? Why do they spawn like cats and dogs while our numbers suffer? They are the abominations, not us.† â€Å"Their short lives, their burning need to create before they die, drive that. Their bodies can't help but produce life so readily. We do not feel that urgency.† Dorian grinned. â€Å"Well, physically we do, but subconsciously†¦our souls know we have time.† â€Å"That's another wonder of modern medicine. We can help the infertile.† Dorian frowned, again more curious than angry. â€Å"Enlighten us.† I hesitated, suddenly regretting my comment. In as brief a way as I could, I explained artificial insemination and in vitro fertilization. Even Dorian had trouble stomaching that one. â€Å"This is how your numbers grow?† asked a woman near Shaya. Her voice was an awed whisper. â€Å"Only for some,† I told her. â€Å"Most don't need it. If anything, I think we have too many babies.† Seeing their shocked faces, I felt a little bad about upsetting them with all this. After all, I was a big advocate of respecting cultural diversity. Yet that core belief of mine wavered around these people. Maybe that was unfair, but I had spent my life being taught that they were not human. They might seem so now, but I didn't think one dinner could truly alter my ingrained views. Shaya shook her head, face pale. â€Å"This, then, is what has displaced us from our homeland. These are the things that forced us from the place we came from and into the world of spirits and lost souls. We lost to twisted creatures who breed easily, who rape and pillage the earth in homage to their metal gods.† â€Å"Look, I'm sorry it upsets you all so much, but that's how it is. You guys lost. You have to deal. You did an okay job fighting, I guess. You still show up in a lot of fairy tales and myths. But you still lost. History's like that. There are wars, and unfortunately, in the end, who wins and who loses is more important than who's right or wrong.† â€Å"Are you saying your people were wrong, then?† asked Dorian quietly. â€Å"No,† I said with certainty. â€Å"Absolutely not.† â€Å"You're very loyal to your own kind.† â€Å"Of course I am. I'm human. There's no choice there – especially when your people do nothing but cause trouble for mine when they cross over.† â€Å"Look around this room. Of those gathered†¦I would say only less than twenty have ever visited your world. And of those, only a small amount 'caused trouble.' You have degenerates in your world too. Yet, you wouldn't use them to define your entire race as bad.† â€Å"No,† I agreed. â€Å"But I'd still punish them. Look, maybe I'm overly jaded toward your kind, but then, the only ones I've ever met have been the deviants. It's hard not to judge.† Dorian stared at me for a long time, and I couldn't read him. Everyone else looked like they would have killed me on the spot, if not for the hospitality prohibition. I wondered if I'd made Dorian mad enough to regret giving his oath. His thoughtful face changed to its typical expression, the perpetually amused and lazy one. He rose from his couch, sweeping the cloak behind him. Everyone else hastily followed suit. I took my time getting up. â€Å"I thank you all for a lovely evening, but I must take my leave now.† He spoke loudly, so that his words carried to more than just our table. Conversation in the room dropped. â€Å"I daresay my guest is growing restless and eager for some privacy, and I do so hate to disappoint.† The toadies laughed appreciatively, and I steeled myself not to blush again. Dorian glanced at me as we slowly walked out of the hall. â€Å"If I offered my hand again, I don't suppose you'd take it?† â€Å"Not a chance. I don't want to give them any ideas.† â€Å"Oh. Well. I'm afraid it's too late for that, once they see where we're going.† I cut him a warning look. â€Å"Where are we going?† â€Å"Why, to the most private of places. My bedroom, of course.†