#┆ ⌦ .｡.:* A TALE OF DERRING DO — answered.

[powerfought]

@selunaris asked : ❛  will you please slow down a little?  ❜

  "hells,"  he  grumbled  beneath  labored  breath.  he  was  trying  to  get  the  fuck  out  of  this  place,  as  quickly  as  his  feet  could  carry  him, and he  didn't  need  some  whining  little  pup  trailing  after  him  —  most  especially  not  the one  who'd  gotten  him  in  this  mess  to  begin  with.  zarys  and  the  rest  were  dead by the hands of the cleric and her comrades,  the  shipment  for  which  he  was  responsible  taken into her possession,  and  who  was  going  to  have to answer for it all? not her.

  oh,  and  the  worst  part?  he  didn't  even  have  olly  and  his  child-like  foolishness  to  keep  him  entertained  on  the  road.  where  in  the  nine  hells  was  he  even  supposed  to  go  now?

  "leave  me  the  fuck  alone."  rugan's  voice  was  a  low  growl,  and  as  he  turned  to  face  lunaris,  his  dominant  hand  deftly  found  the  hilt  of  his  dagger.  "you've  caused  enough  trouble  at  my  expense.  the  least  you  could  do  is  let  me  go  my  own  way  quietly.  you  owe  me  a  hell  of  a  lot  more  than  that,  but  you  can  consider  it  a  debt  repaid."

[princessimotep]

Tienes Mi Corazón - Chapter 12

~*~ 18+ Content below. MDNI. Extra warning for Micah being a c*** ~*~

Shady Belle – A hidden jewel within the swamps of Lemoyne. The Van Der Linde gang had been pushed even further East thanks to the looming threat of the Pinkerton Detective Agency. The age of the new world was dawning upon them and yet Dutch still insisted on opposing the dangers striving towards them. Water and oil; a tragic tale of what will never be. A fusion to never co-exist.

Time was running out. Yet Dutch still held onto hope. Still. Was it hope? Or selfishness? Did he truly love the very souls whom he led astray or were they pawns in his game of deceit? In this moment, those questions could not be answered with confidence. There was still time. Time to make amends. It all depended on Dutch and those who stood by his side.

Hosea heavily influenced Dutch in the most mundane yet omnipotent way. Being by Dutch’s side all these years had kept the leader on the right path most of the way. He gave Dutch the wings he needed to fly. The voice he needed to preach. The knowledge to keep those they could alive. The love to keep everyone bonded. Hosea had a particular gift in these sorts of things. He was by no means an angel but human. He understood emotions well, having experienced a lifetime of his own trials and tribulations. The elder gentleman was one folk would go to for advice, the one who they approached without hesitation. Even those who hesitated would find themselves at ease after exchanging conversation.

This golden morning, Hosea decided to make his own approach to the one who perhaps needed his guidance the most.

“How you doing, Miss Miriam?” The doe-eyed woman looked up from her book. Upon seeing Hosea, she gave the man a warm smile, twisting her perched figure which sat on the edge of the stone fountain. She straightened out the creases of her dress, somewhat salvaging a respectable appearance despite the sweat which glossed across her skin. She had never experienced such thick, warm air like this before – much like many of the other camp members. The cold was something she thrived in. Frosty mornings and bitter nights had always been her preference.

“Good morning, Mr Matthews. I’m fine, thank you. And yourself?” He ignored her question. His way of words was always to put another in the spotlight. Selfless and soul searching.

“The heat is pretty unbearable?” A small quirk of her bottom lip caught his eye. It made him smile, knowing he was close to breaking down that barrier. Not that he wished to intrude – he only wanted what was best for each member. If that meant breaking down their barriers to help understand them more, then that was a battle he was willing to slowly win.

“It is really hot here…” Hosea pulled his fingers against the inside of his neck tie in agreement.

“I guess you’re not used to the heat.” His statement made Miriam hesitate. In the end, she shook her head with a small smile. The older gent’s eyes scanned her, piecing her together like some intricate puzzle just waiting to be solved. He had been a good judge of character. He knew there was nothing deviant about the young woman. His mind only wondered why she kept so many secrets. Something as big as her identity. To him, it made sense she had to be someone of importance or someone on the run for doing something bad. Or both.

Taking the opportunity, he pressed. “I suppose the cold is more to your liking?” She nodded. This prompted a chuckle from Hosea, thinking of a passing joke. “Then you would have liked it up in them mountains…” His thoughts trailed off, thinking back to that time of darkness for the gang. Letting his head take over, he subconsciously sat down beside Miriam, resting his elbows on his knees. His hands intertwined to lace his fingers together, his head hanging lower in thought. The silence made Miriam look closer at the man. She could read his eyes – how much hurt he had experienced from the past. The slight remnants of fear which resided within. The young woman understood that ‘the mountains’ were not a good time for anyone. She wished to offer words of comfort but how could she when she knew so little about the situation. About their history. It was not her place to. “You ever been up that way? Past Colter?” A shake of her head made Hosea lift his eyebrow. “Too cold for you?” The comment confused her and without thinking she answered.

“No. I love the cold. It’s just been a little too far West for me- the snow that is.” Placing the pieces together quickly in his mind, Hosea effortlessly chimed in leaving her little time to think.

“So East?” Miriam’s eyes opened wide in disturbance. A pause was set between his voice and her own.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re from the East then.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Goosebumps prickled over the skin of her arms. Her worry became evident to Hosea. He too could read people, just like her. He could do it perhaps a little too well. His eyes shifted down to the ground, not wanting his gaze to cause her any alarm. “I know the country well, Miriam. There are only a few places around here that accommodate to your preferred climate.” She felt herself becoming flustered. She could not allow herself to let him see it so she looked over her shoulder towards the marshy waters. Her eyes searched for something in particular to focus on but her worries made the task difficult. Miriam’s silence spoke a thousand words. Clouds which encased her were gradually starting to part; not without challenge. Thunder flashed through those clouds. Before that mysterious haze could ever clear, the storm would have to present itself. Only then would the suffocation of her secrets could be lifted at last.

Flickering his eyes to her hands, Hosea focused on the book she had been reading prior. He recognised the book cover and the intriguing engravings on the spine of it. “I’ve read that one.” The heat from her head dissipated once she turned her head back to her company. It took her a few seconds to realise what Hosea was referring to. The book offered her so much comfort, therefore a smile was always a response to its very memory.

“It’s my favourite.”

“I’ve noticed.” He stared down at the pages, a coy look present on his face. “You must know the book well if you’re reading it in Spanish.” As quickly as it went, the heat reappeared but this time across her cheeks. Dryly, she swallowed, hoping she could blame her reaction on the heat of the bayou. Hosea was not stupid. There was an aura of omniscience which surrounded him, nothing ever able to get past him. It was down to his caring nature. The want to help people do better and be their best selves. Honest and free.

Unable to fight her nerves, Miriam went to stand and close her book but Hosea’s hand went to her shoulder to stop her. “No – no – no. Please.” His free hand offered her old seat back, inviting her to stay just a little longer. His tone of voice proved to her he meant no harm. She accepted, denying her own departure. Not being too knowledgeable on the language, Hosea referred to the page the book was currently open on. “Which part of the story are you on?”

Breathing calmly through her nose, she settled back into the comfort of her book to accept its embrace. “When the Knight tells the Princess how he truly feels.” Her cheeks darkened yet somehow a smile persevered through to support her words. “You know, at the end?” Hosea nods.

“Ah yes, yes.” He leant over her, scanning over the Spanish text. Despite not knowing the language, he believed he could find the part he wished to enlighten. “The part where he says… ah! Here it is…” His brows furrowed as he attempted to read the foreign words. “Tienes… mi… corazón.” Hosea lifted his head, looking at Miriam with a smile of delicate purity and warmth. “You have my heart.”

“You have my heart.” Miriam repeated in acknowledgement. The Knight saying this to his Princess had always starstruck the young woman. She had wondered evermore what it would feel like to have someone confess their feelings like that. It was truly beautiful to her. To tell someone that they no longer own their heart because it had been claimed by their true love – it was words of poetry which came from the soul. To be so selfless to another. To love them so much you could trust them with something which could be broken so easily. One crunch of their hand could shatter the organ to shake their realm of reality. Such trust was so hard to come by. Although the very thought of having this much faith in someone was deemed as beautiful to her – it also scared her and to Miriam, there was something magical about that.

Observing the peaceful look of wonder which portraited her face, Hosea’s expression softened as he knew that look all too well. A look of yearning which he once held for Bessie. “And what a powerful thing to say to someone.” His eyes looked up to the morning sky, watching a pair of larks which flew over in blissful glee. “It doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from – anyone can feel that moment of power. Only if they allow themselves to.” He turned his head and his eyes locked with Miriam’s who was intrigued by what he was saying. “Love holds no judgement, Miriam. Some would say it is the most powerful force on earth.” His words rattled her yet her heart thumped against her chest in a way which lulled her; as if it was telling her to listen. She shook her head.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, Mr Matthews.”

“Miriam.” He called her name firmly to silence her. The both of them knew very well what he was insinuating. “It takes a lot to completely destroy love. Sure – someone’s past may cause a few cracks, or – what they once did could hurt – but if that person also trusts you with their heart, then there is nothing to be scared of.” His words moved her. She could not deny the truth in which he spoke yet ever the same, her fear of rejection held her back. Shaking her head, she tried to search his eyes for an answer.

“But how would I know-”

“You won’t know unless you tell them.” Their conversation felt almost hypothetical yet underneath the mystery, they both knew who and what they were talking about. His answer held a double meaning. To tell Javier how she really felt… it also meant telling him the truth. Just like Sadie had once told her.

The thunder within her mind had stopped. Clouds were beginning to clear away and now, all that was left was her thoughts. Her head felt light, no longer heavy to the burden of what she must do. In a way; she felt ready.

It was time.

Seeing Hosea stand up from the fountain made Miriam mouth a quiet thank you to the older man. Hosea acknowledged this but being the man he was, he didn’t wish to pry and make her feel in debt. He brushed it away; another selfless act on his part. He had never once changed; always the man who wished to help others. Even as he began to walk away, he couldn’t help but pass by a comment to help encourage her that her past wasn’t as scary as it seemed.

“I hear Annesburg is lovely this time of year. Especially a little further up North-East from it.” He looked over his shoulder at Miriam. But before she could react, she read his expression which soothed her. In quiet understanding, she knew by the way he spoke and the look he gave her that he wouldn’t utter a word to no one. He knew.

A smile was left behind on her lips.

‘Thank you, Hosea…’

Night had claimed the land fast that day, much to the appreciation of the people. It had been the hottest day of the year thus far, so the night’s cooler air was welcomed with open arms. The clinch of coolness wasn’t the only thing which was welcomed that night.

After Dutch, Arthur and John had met with Angelo Bronte, their return to camp had to be celebrated – Jack had come back safe and sound.

Cheers and laughter encircled the campfire as Javier sung to the strumming of his guitar. A talent he possessed – not just the way he played or sang but his ability to bring his fellow camp members together. He was the glue which bound everyone together, almost completely unbreakable. How Miriam admired that part about him. Looking from afar, she watched him joyously express himself through the lyrics of his song, the others chiming into the chorus with theatrical delight. It made her heart swell to see how together everyone was. It was the happiest she had seen them all.

She wished she was nearer to Javier but she held herself back, wanting him to be with his family. After all, it was a bond she never wanted him to break – only solidify further. Even throughout the day, she had kept her distance from him; ever since her conversation with Hosea. She wanted to figure out the right words to say to him; it had taken her what felt like an eternity to figure out, but she knew she had to do this. Not just for herself, but for him. Javier deserved to know the truth. He had been so good to her.

He found her at her most vulnerable. Took her into the safety of the gang. Explored the Heartlands with her – he even took a bullet for her. Part of her really wanted to know how he felt about her before she could confess everything, however her need to be honest and give her heart to him was stronger. He had asked for her trust and that was what she wanted to give him. Her full, undying trust. No matter how frightening the thought of it was.

She loved him.

The very thought made her heart bubble in her chest like lava waiting to erupt. In the past she tried to push those feelings aside, in fear of the hurt it may cause, but now it invaded her entirely. It was undeniable and inescapable. The chains which encased her had finally rotted enough to the point she could finally break free. All she needed to do was try. And Javier deserved that at the very least.

Leaving the coolness of the night’s air, Miriam retreated back inside the walls of the house which stood strong in the middle of camp. Closing the door behind her, she leant against the wood to take slow, deep breaths. She knew the moment was close. Tauntingly close. Even now she struggled to think of a strong opening line to start this chaotic and somewhat dangerous confession. Knowing the gist of the conversation was easy, but as for what to exactly say – this was unclear. Trying her best to snap out it, Miriam walked through the hallway and into one of the rooms where a mirror hung on the wall. Cautiously she approached it, as if one wrong step could cause it to fall to the ground. That was the last thing she needed – seven years of bad luck. A superstition she most definitely believed in, perhaps even more so after Molly’s pocket mirror broke. Since then, it seemed the poor woman had never gotten a break. She would sometimes see Molly on the outskirts of camp, looking out into the wilderness, mumbling incoherent things about Dutch. It broke Miriam’s heart to see her this way. She had attempted to talk things out with Molly, but she pushed the woman away. She did not want anyone’s company other than Dutch’s; which was something he could not give her.

Looking into the mirror, Miriam’s reflection shone back at her through distorted cracks. The cracks were like veins which jaggedly etched their way along the centre to the corners of the frame. Subconsciously, she brought a hand to her hair, stroking down the fly aways. How humbled she felt about her appearance. Javier was strikingly handsome to look at, yet she felt the complete opposite about herself. She found it comical the idea of Javier finding her as attractive as she found him. In her irrational mind, there was just no way. She sighed, hopelessly. Yet her eyes wandered to the dress she was wearing.

After all this time, she had finally finished weaving together the dress she started making back in Horseshoe Overlook. Despite Javier’s kindness in buying her the dresses back in Strawberry, Miriam felt it a waste to abandon her project. The dress was made from silky, scarlet fabric which was made to fit her exact measurements. It held no long sleeves but her shoulders were crowned with the smallest black ruffles. The neck line had shaped a most magnificent V-shape which complimented her décolletage. Following the waist line down, the ruche of the skirt had been pinned up to create a gothic-style waterfall effect on the sides and through the opening of the outer skirt, black lace fell to the ground as the underskirt. The dress created a feeling of pride which was new to the young woman. She wanted this to be the dress. The dress she would confess to Javier in. It made her feel empowered yet vulnerable and that was something she felt fascinated by.

“My, my. Don’t you look pretty in that getup.” A chill ran down her spine, recognising that voice. Miriam whipped her head over her shoulder, fast enough to cause a couple strands of locks to fall from her clipped-up hair. Micah stood in the doorway, leaning lazily against the wooden frame. He shifted his weight so he now stood straight, ready to approach. “Who’re you getting’ dolled up for, I wonder…” Not wanting to give him the time of day, she stayed silent. She knew all too well that people like him craved responses. Tauntingly, he stepped towards her which immediately caused Miriam to fully turn to face him to stand her ground. Much like the time back in the cabin, where she was cornered by the O’Driscolls.

The clicks of Micah’s boots echoed through the room like the sound of a ticking clock. Her shoulders tensed but never once did she break eye contact from him. He stopped walking once he was a couple metres away from her, wanting her to fall into a false sense of safety. One thing was certain – being alone in a room with Micah Bell was never something safe and she was smart enough to know this.

A snicker trickled past his lips, holding out his hands to gesture inwardly to himself. “Is this all for me?” A look of disgust shadowed over Miriam’s face. If only a look could really kill someone, he would be nothing more than a corpse before her. Clenching her jaw, Miriam remained composed before the serpent, still having no intention of giving in to his sick game. Micah tilted his head with his mouth slightly agape, soaking in her defensive state. That scowl she held for him… he found it utterly delicious. “Let’s take a good look at you…”

Before she could react, his hand grasped her jaw, the tips of his fingers pinching into the skin of her cheeks. In defiance she tried to shake herself from his grip by snapping her head to the side but he only squeezed her face tighter to make her heel. Not wanting to be permanently injured by his hand, she stilled, keeping her gaze away. His breathing was heavy, like he was fighting for crystal clear air. The smell of her was almost too intoxicating for him to handle. His eyes scanned over her features, looking at the shade of her glossy lips to the colour of her eyes and sighing in bliss when she would batt those pretty lashes which each blink. The grip of his hand loosened just slightly so he could angle his thumb up towards her waterline where black kohl had been carefully pencilled across. Wanting to taint the remarkable portrait before him, his thumb brushed across the bottom of her eye to smear the black eyeliner down past her outer corners. He snickered at the art he had just created.

Now she looked fragile – as though she had been crying.

“Ain’t you just… pretty.” He licked the top of his lip, his warm breath coming through his nose like a bull in heat. “Nasty little thing, dressin’ up for ol’ Micah…” His thumb went back to the start of her waterline to once again follow along, but this time, he dragged his digit downwards once he reached the middle. A smoky smear fell to the apple of her cheek. His thumb was rough and he had pressed hard, causing a streak of faint redness to appear behind the ashy smears. How appetising she looked like this. Like a forbidden fruit he so desperately wanted to take a bite from. Being so close to her, a couple strings of breathy laughter escaped him. He found it funny. The joke of it all; how easy it would be to take her right now whilst everyone was occupied outside.

The fantasy of her crying for help whilst all the other gang members would be nonchalantly celebrating, not able to hear her pleas at all. It was the perfect opportunity. Quickly, his mind pieced together a delectable scenario. He’d smash the back of her head against the mirror, just so show her how much fun he can be. Then he’d throw her like a little dolly onto the cold wooden floor before taking her from behind. Oh, how the sounds of her dress being ripped apart would stiffen his cock. He would be entertained for a long while…

His smirk disappeared at his next intruding thought. ‘Unless he interferes…’ Anger flashed across Micah’s face which resulted in his hand clasping round her jaw again and this time, forcing her to look at him. “Or is this all for that fucking greaser, hm?” Now it was Miriam’s turn to see red. Without even a second thought, she pursed her lips before releasing them to spit into Micah’s face. The action was so sudden it took him a back, making him let go of her in the process. She took her chance to escape and bolted through the doorway and towards the grand doors which would lead her outside. He didn’t attempt to chase after her, instead using his preferred tactic to hunt his prey – threats.

“If you don’t come back here… I’ll fucking destroy your world. I know who you are.” Gritting his teeth, he walked towards the doorframe once he wiped the spit from his eyes. “And what you did.” He stopped once he was back in the doorway. This time he had his fists held tightly in a ball and his posture was hunch over, as if ready to charge at her. “If you walk out that door, I’ll tell your little greaser everything.” She could no longer ignore what he had to say. It enraged her the way he spoke about Javier like he was some form of weapon to be used against her, calling him those horrible derogatory names. Silence was no longer an option.

Snapping her head over her shoulder, she hissed her words. “You won’t have chance. I’ll be telling him tonight.” Her surge of confidence caught Micah off guard. She had a mean bite to her and it replaced his anger with excitement.

“Oh, really now?” For the last time, she turned around to fully face him.

“Yes. You have no power over me, Micah.” It sent chills over his body the way she snarled out his name. If he played his cards right, he could still make the world around her crumble. Micah had always had a sick desire to see beauty decay. It was the most natural form of art to him.

Micah held his hands up, as if to surrender. “Oh, ho. You got me there, sweetheart…” His tone of voice leered over her, spookily, like he knew something she did not. “I’m just thinking about that Mexican’s wellbeing is all.” Her eyebrows knitted closer together, confused by his change of heart. He smirked, knowing his new tactic was working. He took a step towards her, his hands still raised in sweet surrender. “It would be such a… shame… to see him – burdened with such knowledge.” Now he took a couple more steps closer, almost halfway across the landing. Slowly, Miriam’s eyebrows softened as though she could see her victory being taken away before her very eyes.

“… a burden?” Micah stopped himself from grinning. ‘Jackpot.’ He thought to himself. He knew very well which direction to take this conversation.

“Of course. I mean, when I discovered what you were, well… I was shocked. And that’s puttin’ it lightly- I mean…” Micah lowered his hands. His tone changed. “… ya did some real nasty things after all.” The young woman flinched at his words. “What you did… oof-” The blonde dropped his head momentarily, only to raise it slowly to look at her through his messy strands of hair which cascaded over his brows. “No normal person could ever look at ya the same way ever again.” Her blood turned cold at the horrifying thought. It felt unbearable, the idea of Javier shunning her away after discovering her past. She felt her eyes begin to sting with tears but she refused to let them fall, especially in front of Micah. Such a sight could not slip past Micah. Those tears which threatened to spill only fuelled him further. His hands hovered over her shoulders but he didn’t dare to touch.

“Sweetheart… I know it’s hard.” He didn’t have the faintest idea. “Ya just gotta understand… that greaser had his family and friends drop like flies, one by one. Murdered in front of him… so…” Micah tauntingly tilted his head side to side, as though he was weighing the options of what to say. “… it only makes sense he wouldn’t react well to what ya did. He’d hate you.” Her blood felt as though it were ice. For a moment, it felt impossible for her to breathe. Micah’s words made perfect sense. She convinced herself then and there that she had gaslighted herself into thinking that everything would be okay. Of course, there was no way Javier would be able to look past the things she did.

Not wanting to spend another second in Micah’s presence, she went to open the door but Micah’s hand held onto her wrist to pause her action. “Oi.” He growled, bringing her close into his chest. The dark-haired beauty frowned, still fighting the sting of her eyes. He lifted his hand and instead of grabbing her jaw again like last time, he curled his index finger and softly petted it over her cheek. “Don’t ya worry, doll. Ol’ Micah will be here to pick up the pieces.” He leant close to her face, his lips just a couple centimetres away from her own. “If ya tell him.” And just like that, he released her and she immediately ran out, slamming the doors in his face.

Her feet pattered down the steps and across the grass until she could find shelter under the gazebo, just a little away from the camp’s celebrations. She tried to calm her breathing although not a sound of it could be heard due to the rambunctious singing from both Uncle and Pearson. Even Arthur could be heard trying to join in, carefully trying to not slur his words due to the amount of whiskey he had consumed.

Looking to her hands, the young woman realised the shake that now rocked them uncontrollably. Her ears burned hot; her throat too dry to be able to swallow. Attempting to steady herself, Miriam’s hands rested on the pale wood of the banister and sank her head low to calm her rhythm of breaths once she wiped away her ruined eyeliner.

She knew Micah was not to be trusted; his words were a sorcery of evil. Malice was something he thrived to express. He was like a disease, persisting to take over and destroy something once good from the inside out. Yet those very words he spoke only awakened Miriam’s once buried paranoia. Just as she had at last calmed herself into thinking her past could not break the bond she shared with Javier, a threat loomed in its grand return to make her back down. Deep down, she still wanted to tell Javier the truth. Uneasiness plagued her at the scenario.

What if…

What if Micah spoke honesty, no matter how hurtful it came out? Would it be a burden for Javier? Would he…

‘Would he hate me?’ She bit the inside of her cheek; the taste of iron spilling in slow droplets down her throat. Would he or wouldn’t he. A riddle she could not solve. It was a gamble. A leap of faith.

Being so lost in her troubled thoughts, she had barely noticed the familiar presence behind her whose hands rested on the plumps of her hips. “Hola, hermosa ángel.” Regardless of her agonising thoughts, Miriam couldn’t help but melt under his touch. She breathed out his name, savouring it as though it was the last time she would ever be able to say it.

His hands stroked her hips a couple times, like he was soothing her for something he wasn’t quite aware of in that moment. With a feather-like touch, Javier’s hands slid over the peaks of her hips to take their place over her belly. The feeling was welcomed for it offered a warmth she did not mind faltering to. His chin rested over her shoulder which allowed Miriam to smell the whiskey and cigarettes that came from his long breaths. It was a smell she found appetizing and often salivated for during steamy exchanges.

“I haven’t seen you all day…” He mumbled, now turning into her neck to smell the gorgeously scented perfume which he found suited her and only her. A scent of lavender and powdery notes. Miriam pressed her back against his chest to allow him to fully hold her. His eyes were shut with the lightest of smiles, appreciating the tender fragment of time that stood still for their sake. A snapshot of gentle peace.

“I was… lost in thought, today.” He hummed at her response, finding it an acceptable answer for the time being. The tips of her fingers lightly traced over the knuckles of his hands. Even now, her thoughts troubled her deeply – yet his aura soothed her, preventing her from breaking down to the corruption Micah had caused. “I- My mind has been all over the place. I’m sorry.” A low rumble came from Javier’s throat in an understanding chuckle.

“Mine too.” His hands snaked past one another, tightening his embrace. His cheek pressed against the length of Miriam’s neck where his lips dusted across her skin in a sweet whisper. “I can’t get you off my mind, mi amor.” His lips and facial hair tickled her skin, causing her to momentarily break away from her intrusive thoughts in soft laughter.

“You’ve been drinking.” Turning her head to try and look at his expression, she could see his cheeks were slightly glazed with a pigment of rosiness. His eyes held a mist of heavenly delight, finding all things around him pleasant. Not denying her words, he raised the depths of his focus by looking into her dark hazel eyes.

“I speak only the truth.” His eyes closed lazily to fall into a blissful realm, allowing his lips to dance across her jawline and then the corner of her neck, underneath her ear. “Mi amor…” He whispered this line over and over again with each feathery kiss. Goosebumps responded back to him, giving in to the enchantment he cast over her. She held onto his arms to keep her from stumbling, bending at the knees as though she was becoming limp like a doll held by its owner. “Look at me.”

Javier loosened his hold on her so she could eventually turn around to face him. There were things he wanted to tell her which had been occupying him all throughout the day. Perhaps longer. Delving into the wondrous pools of her iris, he felt his chest seize for a brief moment. It amazed him how this woman standing before him had such a hold over his mind, body and feelings. Never in his twenty-six years of being on this earth had he felt this way before. It was foreign, shrouded in mystery; nonetheless a hold he never wanted to let go.

“Listen.” Javier stepped back from her, tilting his head down to the ground and raising his hands in front of him as though halting any attempt to interrupt him. “I’ve been thinking- I’ve been thinking, a lot… and…” He lifted his head and in doing so he placed his hands on his hips before rapidly flickering his thumb over the tip of his nose to brush off the last bits of nerves that had held him back before now. “You and I- We… I think…” He stopped himself.

The way she looked at him. It captivated him. She without a doubt took his breath away; without even trying. Her mere existence was enough to shake the ever-winding staircase of his reality. She had always captivated him. Ever since he first looked at her within that cabin. A short exhale of realisation escaped him.

“I think we’re good together.” He said it so matter of a fact, that his awkwardness had successfully been disguised by his liquid courage.

Miriam’s eyes became wide with surprise, not expecting him to say such things. She kept quiet, unable to find the right words to say. Javier stroked the back of his neck, not knowing how he made it this far. However, he understood that he had to finish what he had started. “I mean, only if you want that too.” Now the Mexican found himself second guessing how he approached his words. He wanted to continue to plead his case because of course, she was someone whom he wanted to fight for. “Look-” He stepped towards her; his hands now being held out to gesture with each word that needed visual guidance. “What I mean to say is- I don’t care about what you did, who you are or where you came from. None of that matters.” Miriam’s eyebrows furrowed upwards, her mouth becoming agape – not believing what he was saying. Javier’s hand held onto hers. His fingers squeezed tight to the following words. “I want you. Only you.” With his free hand, he gently placed his palm over her heated cheek. “Just as you are.” The words he uttered cut through her like a welcomed wound. A wound which hurt but distracted her from her anxious thoughts. He made her heart bleed with sweet sorrow.

She wanted him too. To Miriam, Javier deserved the world and more.

Pursing her lips together, Miriam tightly closed her eyes to lean into the hand which held her cheek. He was so warm, like the water of a hot spring steaming against ice cold skin. “Javier…” Bringing her hand to his own, she pulled it down from her cheek. “I’m not the woman you think I am…” A pause of hesitancy followed before she let go of his hands to hold her own. Javier looked at her with hurt in his eyes, as though he had been shot through his chest. It pained her to do this, but the taunt of Micah’s words could not allow her to let her walls fall apart. She allowed him to have her heart, but she could not do the same for him. She feared so much that his heart would die by her tainted touch. Her bottom lip quivered before she looked at him with tearful eyes. She could barely choke out her words. “But I wish I was. I truly do.”

Javier averted his eyes from her. For the first time, he did not know what to do. All he could do was look at to her, almost in disbelief. With all his strength, he set his hurt aside and tried to reach through to her. “Miriam…” He made a promise to himself. “Eres tan estupida…” (“You’re so stupid…”)

A promise that he would fight for her.

Both of Javier’s hands held onto her face to bring her back to this dimension. “¿Cuántas veces tengo que decírtelo?” (“How many times do I have to tell you?”) Her watery eyes blurred her vision yet she could still see the intense look of truth he emitted. “I don’t care.” A smile returned to his face, his sharp gaze softening. “I don’t care, Miriam.” He frowned yet his smile remained. “Don’t you remember?” Before she could respond to his question, Javier pulled on her hand so she would follow him.

They left the shelter of the gazebo, walking just outside of Shady Belle by the water yet remained concealed by the trees and greenery. They couldn’t wander too far due to the main road only being just up ahead. Once Javier stopped, he pointed up to the night sky. The galaxy of stars twinkled back in response, shining through the grey clouds which surrounded the moon. “You remember, don’t you?”

The organ within her chest tightened at the memory of those beautiful words. Without saying anything, she nodded. But he wanted more. He wanted her to fight back – to succumb to the feelings they both could not deny. “Then say them.” Her eyes tightly closed, her lips pursing back together.

She could not bring herself to say those words.

Javier held onto her waist, bringing her towards him so their hips met one another. “Say them to me, mi amor.” Their foreheads touched, his eyes trying to find hers through her thick lashes – still her irises were averted from his.

He deserved the truth.

His fingers tightened on her waist. His whispers became more soaked with passion. “I need to know.”

And the truth is what she wished to give.

“Javier… Tienes mi corazón.” Those words ripped through him like a rainfall of bullets. He pulled his head back, looking at her with shock. At last, he could see her alluring cocoa eyes. Her hand went to her chest as if to soothe the pain and ache she felt there. “Tienes mi corazón, Javier.” Her tears spilt down her cheeks, uncontrollably. Her walls had fallen to dust thanks to him. She felt exposed and vulnerable. And she was so grateful. Somehow her revelation made her feel lifted; unafraid. “And it will always be yours.”

No longer did a barrier stand between the two thus the only thing to be done was to fall into each other’s reality. He claimed her lips with his own, not caring that it sucked the air from her. He could not help himself after she had told him such euphoric words. Never did he think he would hear her say those words to him, especially in his language. Those three words spoke a million tales, matching up to each star that dotted the galactic sky. His reaction made Miriam cry more, the lump in her throat becoming so painful she could barely breathe. To others it would seem as though she was in pain. Forlorn and distressed. But the two of them knew that it was an articulation of happiness and that was all that mattered.

Miriam fought for air but was unable to win due to Javier’s hand holding onto the back of her head, pushing her further against his mouth. His tongue tangled around hers, barely allowing room for her to inhale. A meagre jolt of panic naturally took over her yet her own body betrayed her, keeping her pinned into his strong embrace. Colourful spots sparkled behind her closed eyes, signalling her impending downfall. She murmured his name against his mouth, revealing her desperation.

Not wanting her to pass out, just yet, he pulled his lips from her and watched the saliva slip over the centre of her bottom lip. Perilously she gasped out for air but was immediately silenced by his lips. She squirmed in ecstatic delight. The very thought of seeing stars just by him kissing her sent waves of paradise towards her core. She trusted this man to do whatever he wanted, knowing he never would have an inkling if ill malice. Her hands ran through his hair, unconsciously pulling away the band which held his hair back. His velvet ebony locks touched his shoulders where his blue waistcoat hugged against the white fabric of his blouse.

“Tienes mi corazón…” She whispered against his lips, repeating those words he found so beautiful. His hand clenched, grabbing a fistful of her hair. She mewled in contentment at the rough action.

“Mierda…” He grumbled, the tightening feeling of jeans around his groin which became uncomfortable all too quickly. The way she said those words, it was driving him fucking crazy. Pulling the clip that held her hair back, her mermaid-like waves fell past her shoulders like unravelled silk. All those feelings which held him back before, those chains no longer claimed him. Instead, he was finally free to do as he desired. No restraints or second thoughts. Only what felt right to both himself and her.

Javier’s hands grabbed Miriam’s ass, crunching together the carefully woven fabric she had seamed and lifted her without warning. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist where her bare pussy caught his jeans just right, the tent of the fabric rubbing against her clit. The skirt of her dress covered the sight, but underneath, it was a vision to behold – one Javier could feel. The roughness of his jeans caused a friction which made her hips buck involuntarily. The sharp sparks of pleasure which flew through her like flashes of lightning made Miriam throw her head back, leaning her weight away from him so her hips had no choice but to force themselves harder against his concealed yet prominent cock. It didn’t take long for her slick to begin coating his jeans, as if her pussy was begging skin on skin contact. Without shame, Miriam bobbed her hips up and down the tiniest amount to rub her clit over the point of his jeans. Due to the ridged nature of his jeans, her clit became instantly swollen, enjoying the friction more than she imagined she would. Her wetness rapidly dampened the fabric and with aid was soaked further by his leaking tip. The thought of his precum seeping through to invade her pussy made her eyes roll back to see the stars.

The feeling of her hips rocking against his erection made Javier open his mouth to invite in the cool air in hopes it would help him re-centre himself – to stop him from fucking her so furiously that she would surely lose consciousness. Yet he reminded himself that all restraints were to be forgotten about. Just for this night at least. He wrapped an arm around her upper back and knelt down to the ground to place her on the grass, all the while keeping their hips connected like this. Her hips were raised, angled upwards over his thighs and he kept her like this so he could unzip his jeans to pull out his aching cock. In doing so, his fingers brushed over the area of his pants where their liquids seeped through. With the tip of his middle finger and thumb, he brought them up to his face and rubbed the slick together before retracting his middle finger away to watch the string of clear fluid stretch.

“Mi amor… if you keep doing things like this, I won’t be able to stop myself.” Through her flushed pants, she quizzed her lover.

“Stop yourself from what?” Innocently she blinked which caused Javier to arch over her, pressing his leaking head inside of her without warning. Not giving her a single chance to adjust, Miriam’s head fell back so her forehead was inches away from meeting the grass. Keeping her hips angled up towards the sky, Javier pressed a kiss to her exposed throat, growling against her skin.

“Fucking you until you’re full of my cum, mi amor.” The walls of her pussy clenched hard around the tip of his cock, milking him in response to his words. The two of them gasped in symmetry at the rapturous feeling. The tightness of her heat made it difficult to sheathe himself fully inside but once he did, he hung his head low between his shoulders, panting. His fingers dug into the earth to ground himself whilst Miriam tried her best not to make any sudden movements, still recovering from the brief moment of sheer bliss.

Soon, a laughter that was barely audible came from Javier. He lifted his head, looking through the messy strands of his hair to address his love. “You like the idea of that, hm?” With eagerness in her movements, she nodded her head to him; the memory of him almost coming inside her dancing around rent free in her head. She could still remember how hot the heat of his cum felt inside, even if it was only a drop. Her pussy spasmed again, wishing to be filled this time instead of it being wasted on her lower abdomen. He grunted, pulling his cock back until he was almost fully free from her.

Keeping the tip of his cock lined at her entrance, Javier pulled her thighs up and folded them back so her knees came to a beautiful bend. Her shoes slipped off her feet so her heels pressed into the rounds of her ass. He let go of her plump skin, watching her dress skirt pool around her chest – the sight of her pulsing pussy now on full view. That and her big doe eyes all tearful from sinful want, were a picture of perfection to the Mexican rebel. His hands traced over her knees, pushing them further apart before planting a kiss to one of them. He raised himself a little higher on his knees to get his angle right and once he was there, he slammed his cock deep and hard into her pussy; reaching depths Miriam didn’t even know was possible. The earth surrounding Miriam’s head sank lower, being pressed with great force by the back of her skull. A noise had left her mouth she didn’t even know could ever be recreated even if she tried. That very noise made her lover see red and repeated the violent snap of his hips over and over, earning a unique and satisfying moan from her each time.

The head of his cock abused her insides, forcing her heat to overflow with more of her slick in a pathetic attempt to soothe the overstimulation which was being invoked. Her head was dizzy, unable to think rationally whilst he pounded into her pussy like she was just some tight hole for him to let his frustrations out on. “Oh my God… Javier! Javier!” Her sanity was long gone, no care being present to fear what others might hear. She felt his hands pull harder on her knees, bringing her hips impossibly closer to his own; Miriam became a babbling mess. He hit depths within her that shot fiery sparks of gunpowder through her core all the way to her head. Her toes curled, bracing herself for his ruthlessness that would undoubtedly continue.

Already, her pussy squeezed his cock, ready to deliver its final chokehold. Javier placed an elbow and hand beside her head whilst the other rested in the same manner but above her head. Not once did his unforgiving thrusts change in pace. “Mi amor- Ah! Miriam…” His voice was quiet through the loudness of his grunts, yet as though the elements of nature respected their moment of union, Miriam heard him clear as day. “Te amo.”

‘Those words…’

She hiccupped, feeling the swell of her heart become unbearable. Javier kissed her forehead. “Te amo… te amo…” He never stopped saying those words. With every thrust, every pant and groan, he cooed those words to her. He would say it as many times as it took for her to finally understand. She felt her head ache, still unable to stop herself from crying. All she could do was place her hand on his cheek and kiss the corner of his mouth.

Even then, he still did not stop.

‘He loves me…’ The happiest smile she had ever conjured in her entire lifetime graced her features. ‘He really loves me…’

Being close to his release, Javier shuddered, his head falling lower to try and stop himself. He could feel she was close too. She could tell by his silence he was trying hard not to give in, selflessly wanting her to come before he did – yet each time it risked him coming inside. Breaking his concentration, Miriam brought her lips to his ear, begging him in a sultry voice.

“Please, come inside-ah! Javier! Please…” Miriam raised both her shoulders in a euphoric high, knighting each side of his face as his forehead now came into contact with the bottom of her throat. His nails scratched hard at the dirt, whilst her own snaked under his arms and latched onto his shoulder blades. Her nails pierced in through the fabric of his waistcoat, not realising she was in fact drawing blood. Even Javier couldn’t feel it, due to the feeling of his cock pulsating inside her becoming overwhelming. “Please…” She lowered the volume of her voice but kept a higher pitch than normal – something she naturally did when she wanted something bad. “Javier… I want you to come inside me. Make me yours.”

Like a cryptic code being cracked, it unlocked the shackles which bound him. A second wind of energy eloped through his body like an untameable hurricane. The rhythm of his hips became faster, more ruthless with no remanets of gentleness. He wanted nothing more in that moment than for her wishes to be granted. And for his own – to have her as his – whole and complete. Sweat glossed down the muscles of his back, sticking to his garments which caused an imaginary suffocation as his climax overcame him, spurting his hot cum inside her weeping pussy. He pressed his hips hard into her and stayed like that, as if his only goal was to make sure her womb became full of his fertile seed. Upon the first contact of his cum, her pussy clenched and pulsed around his length, milking each and every drop as Miriam experienced her own ascension. His cum felt excruciatingly hot but it only heightened her senses and made her journey to paradise all the more heavenly.

The feeling of her taking all of him so receptively was something he cursed himself for not experiencing sooner. He didn’t want the moment to end – even during the peak of his high, he slipped his hand between her thighs to rub his thumb over her clit in circles. The elation she felt from his unexpected action made Miriam snap her hips into his, forcing his cock deeper creating more room for his cum to splurge through. The overstimulation made the young woman shake violently, her pussy now refusing to release her hold on his cock. Javier groaned loud into her throat, the noise emanating from deep within.

Finally, with the last few rocks of his hips, he pulled his cock from inside her, the spoils of his climax spilling out with the friction of his length. Once he had fully unsheathed himself, due to her hips being pointed at a high angle, any droplets of cum which surrounded the circumference of her heat fell back inside. The sight of her cum-filled pussy made Javier’s cock twitch, threatening to become hard again. Her puffy cunt pulsed, drinking back every last drop until it was deep inside her warm cavern.

Attempting to wipe away her tears, the mundane fidgeting caught Javier’s attention, him only now realising just how badly she had been crying. Once he tucked himself away, he leant over her to brush his thumb over her watery cheeks.

“Hey…” He cooed. He thought her tears were a product of their love-making but seeing her continue spill them made the man feel genuine concern. A flash of hurt sparkled across his coffee-coloured eyes as she scrunched her nose and tried her best to wipe away anymore tears that were left behind. “Did I hurt you?” A crackle of laughter bubbled past her lips, shaking her head to him.

“No.”

“Then why are you crying?” That wide, close-eyed smile returned once more and this time he was there to witness her expression of joy.

“I’m… I’m just so happy.” A charming look graced Javier’s features.

“Yeah?” Miriam nodded, humming her confirmation. He closed his eyes in contentment. “Me too, mi amor.” Javier lifted her own delicate hand towards his face. With a look of faraway dreams, he placed the softest of kisses against her fingers. To finally hear her speak such honeyed words to him and he in return at long last came to terms with his deep-rooted feelings he held for her – the shadows within his mind felt less dark than before. His demons had been blinded by her luminescent light.

He couldn’t help but consider if she was an angel sent by God. Or a Saint sent to guide him through the darkness that threatened to take over.

Whoever she was, or whomever had sent her, he knew he had to appreciate every waking second with her. Time threatened all beings.

He vowed silently, on that warm summer’s night, that he would devote himself to her and strive for a life where they could be free.

Together.

[positivexcellence]

Walker Boss, Jared Padalecki on Series Finale’s Surprise Cameo, Cordell and Geri’s [Spoiler], More Season 5 Plans

Walker wrapped up its four-season run on Wednesday with the introduction of a surprising but familiar face as Cordell’s new neighbor: James Van Der Beek!

The Dawson’s Creek vet appeared in the show’s final seconds, dressed in all white, with a smile on his face and a gift of soaps for the Walkers. But don’t let his jovial demeanor fool you: Van Der Beek’s character was set to stir up drama on the Davidson property next door as… a cult leader, showrunner Anna Fricke reveals in the following Q&A.

Talking about the casting, star/executive producer Jared Padalecki tells TVLine that Van Der Beek is “a personal friend.”

“He lives here in Austin, and he and his family are friends of me and my family, and so, it was kind of a phone call. I was like, ‘Hey, dude, you want to come do this?'” Padalecki recalls. When he then mentioned Fricke’s name — the showrunner got her start on Dawson’s Creek — Van Der Beek was on board.

“He came over, and just drove from his house and brought one of his daughters, and did it,” Padalecki shares. “We were really excited to explore that storyline.”

Elsewhere in the series finale: Cordell took a leave of absence from the Rangers to spend time with Geri and his kids, and as he readied to hit the road with them, he pocketed a ring box! Despite thinking she botched her interview, Cassie beat out Trey for the lieutenant position. Meanwhile, Liam and Ben decided to move in together, then Liam got a phone call from the governor, asking for his help, after which a black SUV picked him up.

On the kid front, August graduated high school, and Geri made Sadie and Stella a business proposal. Finally, Bonham and Abeline came to an understanding about the event business — she just wants to oversee things, and he suggested they use the boat for events — then the couple took a ride on the water.

“The season was not written, but needless to say, that [James Van Der Beek] cliffhanger was going to pay off as an enormous part, probably the main driving force, of Season 5,” Padalecki says. “Cordell taking a backseat with his Ranger duties and maybe being purposefully naïve to what’s going on next door… There were so many ways we could go, and it was going to be a damn good season of television, but it’s going to have to live in our imaginations.” (Get more of Padalecki’s thoughts on the show’s end and his TV future.)

Below, showrunner Anna Fricke details Van Der Beek’s role and what else was planned for a fifth season, including Cordell and Geri’s potential engagement and Liam’s mysterious new job.

TVLINE | Looking back on the episode, is there anything that you would’ve done differently or changed? Or are you pretty satisfied with the way it ended? Well, it’s probably a two-part answer. We did not know the fate of the show when we wrote the finale. I wrote the finale with Blythe Ann Johnson. We did know, as always, things are uncertain, and so we tried to, as always, write a cliffhanger, write some twists, leave some threads for an upcoming season. We were given the chance, a little bit into either the prep or the filming of the finale, to change anything, just in case, and we did not yet know the fate of the show. So it was sort of like a gamble, and I wrestled with that decision for many days, and talked to the writers, and talked to the producers and to Jared [Padalecki] about what we should do, if anything, and basically, ultimately, we didn’t want to insert a last-minute scene that would sum everything up. It’s 42 minutes of television. We didn’t want to summarize a whole series in one scene, or a few changed lines, or anything like that. So we, ultimately, decided to leave it as it was, which was a tough decision, but I still feel like it’s a good finale. It’s satisfying in many ways. It does not tell the full tale. This show was supposed to go on for 10 years, in my brain, and so, it doesn’t sum up everything, but I didn’t want to rush it, if that makes sense.

TVLINE | You still get a sense of where these characters are going to end up, even though we don’t actually see it. One thing we did get The CW to agree to, which I’m super grateful for, [is] we do have an extended finale by a few minutes, which is a huge deal in terms of scenes, because there were scenes that we had cut that we put back in, which was huge. So we do have that closure, and everyone is in a good place. When I was discussing the finale with our producer/director, Steve Robin, who I adore, we were talking about like, “It’s a good finale, but is it the-lights-off-at-Cheers?” which is, for a certain age group, like the ultimate finale. [Laughs] And it’s not the-lights-off-at-Cheers because I wasn’t prepared for the end. Had I known I had been writing for the end, I would’ve taken the whole fifth season and really written to the end. But I don’t feel like the characters have been robbed.

TVLINE | You set up some really fun cliffhangers for a potential Season 5, especially with the reveal of James Van Der Beek as the Walkers’ new neighbor. How did that come together? That whole process was so exciting. We always wanted to leave some threads for Season 5. We were going to do the cult next door. So he was supposed to be a cult leader. Ever since James Van Der Beek moved to Austin, we’ve been like, “How do we get him into the show? What can we do?” and this just seemed like the perfect thing, and we finally got him for this part. A small-known fact is that we had actually approached him to be Clint West [in] Season 1, which Austin Nichols, ultimately played, and Austin was so excellent in that role. I would not have it any other way. But James had been on that list for a possible villain. We were sort of circling him, like, “Is this possible? Can we get James?” and Jared and James are friends, and Dawson’s Creek was, of course, my first job in this industry. So it was a very beautiful full-circle thing.

TVLINE | Of all the cliffhangers in this episode, that one was the most like, “Oh, darn, I wish I could’ve seen this play out.” I’m not going to lie, part of me wanted to leave people mad. [Laughs] Part of me wanted to have like a big, splashy ending, so then people would be like, “How could you end this?!” No, it was going to be a lot of fun, and to me, personally, I think there was something profound in James Van Der Beek with Jared on this show, sort of like a great throwback to the original WB, and the commentary on the evolution of this network, which I was maybe reading too much into, but I enjoyed it. [Laughs]

TVLINE | What would the dynamic have been like between James’ character and Cordell? Had you thought that far ahead yet? Oh, gosh. I talked to James, and it was so last-minute. He’s a saint. I think it was truly like the day before we were shooting. It was really, really insanely last-minute, so thank God he lives there. He loved the idea of the cult leader, and I think, actually, half those clothes are his own clothes. [Laughs] He was super into it and super into the dynamic he would bring, and he was really into the idea of playing a fun character, an interesting character, a bad character. He was going to be kind of quirky bad, but amusing. He was going to be a really whimsical, amusing character. We were not going to do blood cult, bad, bad, bad cult. We were going to do like kooky cult.

TVLINE | There was a moment, earlier this season, where I thought Luna might be The Jackal, but then I was like, “No, they wouldn’t do that to Cassie.” But then you killed him, which is, I think, even worse. I know, it’s so funny. So many people thought he was The Jackal, which I love. The crew gets the scripts when all the department heads get the script, so they didn’t know, and so there were crew speculations, all season long, about who The Jackal was, and Luna was up there. Some people thought it was Sadie, which was a good one, too. [Laughs] It was devastating to kill him, but it had to be done for drama. I have a joke about all of our best guest stars, like Matt Barr, Austin Nichols, Justin Cortez Johnson, we just kill them all. But it doesn’t mean anything on our show. You can come back as a ghost. It’s fine.

TVLINE | You did give Cassie a bit of a hopeful note there at the end, when she got the promotion, and it leads to this interesting dynamic of she’s now Cordell’s superior. What were you excited to explore with that, if the show had continued? I was really excited to explore exactly that, her being his superior, but it wasn’t going to be a desk job with her. She was going to still be on the streets. But I was excited to see the dynamic of her having to discipline or corral or whatever Walker and Trey, and sort of be in charge of them a bit, and make calls with Captain James. We’ve never seen him have a number two. So that would’ve been really fun. And just seeing her have that dynamic of taking control of a job that Cordell, himself, never wanted, and just seeing her take charge would’ve been really fun.

TVLINE | Geri and Cordell went through their struggles this season, but they ended the finale in a much healthier place. Is it safe to say they were definitely going to get engaged? You know, it’s funny. We had a joke in the writers’ room about the end of the series, and truly, I thought it was going to go 10 years. Walker says to Emily in a flashback, I think, in Season 1, Episode 6, I think he says, “Going to marry Geri and work at the Side Step,” if Emily ever dies. And so that was sort of the end goal, but even when I was given the chance to alter the finale in any way, I didn’t want to get there. It was too fast for a proposal. So I didn’t want to do that right away. The engagement ring box was a very last-minute add. It was truly on the day of filming that scene. We went to the props department and said, “Hey, do you have a box? Can we put it in his pocket?” We shot it as an insert so that we could cut it out if we needed to. We didn’t want to be married to it, literally. I didn’t want marriage to be the end-all, be-all for her. I wanted more for her. So I didn’t want to rush to an engagement for that reason, and it just seemed too fast. I think, ultimately, yes, they end up together. If we’d had a fifth season, we would’ve made a story point out of the engagement, as in, like, he didn’t ask, or he did and it went south, or something happened. We wouldn’t have done that off-screen, for what it’s worth.

TVLINE | When she calls out to him, he says in this meaningful way, “I’m ready,” and it’s obvious he’s talking on another subtextual level. But it sounds like Geri’s not ready, she’s not in the same place. For sure. I was always, like, “Geri’s not ready.” I was always very interested in the character of Geri, of she wants more, and she wants something else. So even if he was ready to propose, I don’t know that she was ready to say yes. That was going to be a whole other thing.

TVLINE | How might have this time away from work have changed Cordell with the leave of absence? That’s interesting. Part of me wonders, in a fifth season, if he ever goes back. Because I never thought, in my mind, that he went to the grave a ranger. I think, at a certain point, he stopped it, because to me, his struggle has always been the work/life balance between family and work, and where is he going to end up? I think that, ultimately, hopefully, he gets more invested in his kids and steps away from that, and from the get-go, he wasn’t gunning to be captain, lieutenant, anything like that. He’s not trying to climb that ladder. So what is it for him? And I don’t know. I think he would’ve gone back for a season to be partnered with Trey on the streets, just doing the daily grind as a ranger. But I don’t know if he would’ve gone too much further beyond that. I think he would’ve maybe gone on to something else.

TVLINE | What can you say about what the governor wanted Liam’s help with? The governor’s daughter was kidnapped. Liam has a very particular set of skills, and the governor wanted Liam’s help. We were going to get Liam back into the halls of the political offices and dealing with that stuff. So it was going to be fun, Liam-doing-high-stakes-government stuff.

TVLINE | One of the other things that you hinted at but was kind of left dangling was the business proposal that Geri made to Sadie and Stella. Any details you can share about that? It was going to be the Side Step expanding and just keeping it in the family, and also, just keeping Saylor [Bell] on the show, because we love Saylor, we love working with her. We could only have so many series regulars, but we really loved working with Saylor. So it was sort of dangling a carrot of if there’s another Side Step, do we open this up? Do we have another storyline with the expanded Side Step? And what that opening is like, and what pursuing Sadie’s music is like at the same time. We just wanted to keep her in the mix.

TVLINE | Have you changed your mind, at all, about Cassie and Trey? [Fricke previously told TVLine there were no romantic feelings between the characters.] [Laughs hysterically] No. I never want them to be together. [Laughs] That’s so funny, Vlada, that you would ask that. Oh, my God, I’m like crying laughing. That was an ongoing argument in the writers’ room.

TVLINE | I remember you mentioning that. So I wondered if maybe somebody had swayed you by the end of the season. No, I did not want them to be together. Here’s the thing: In my mind, if we had gone 10 seasons, in the finale, maybe they would’ve gotten together, yes. Certainly not in this timeline. Ultimately, sure, but no. If we had been on 10 years, and she had gone on to the FBI, and blah, blah, blah, and they revisited each other, sure. But not when they were working in the same office. No, no, no. In Season 5, he was going to have an old Army friend, a female friend, calling. He was getting mysterious phone calls. He was going to have an old Army friend calling him for help that was going to cause some complications for him. So that was going to happen there.

TVLINE | Were there any other Season 5 storylines that you were excited about? I’m sure we had a ton. The cult was going to be fun. August was going to fall in love with — That was our in: August is going to fall in love with the girl next door, get dragged into the cult, have to be extracted. That was going to be fun. The governor stuff, leading to a proposal at the end of Season 5 with Walker and Geri… It would’ve been great.

[rythasbrenelle]

Prompt #4: Reticent

On most days, Locke liked birds more than people. They talked a little bit, each inquiry and answer a slightly different kweh, just enough to qualify as company. But they never pressed him. If all he had to contribute to the conversation was a sniffle or a grunt, chocobos didn’t mind. A meal of greens, a bit of preening, a few encouraging pats, and they were set.

Ideal traveling companions, chocobos.

After three days of the same tall tale being shared in the inn as Locke and Sosonado waited for the storm to pass and the roads to clear, such that every other patron was thoroughly sick of the story by the time they could resume their travels, Locke desperately wished his client was more like a chocobo. “I daresay they’ll be spreading tales of your derring-do across Coerthas now, lad!” Sosonado crawled out from the back of the wagon, his cargo inspection completed, and hopped up onto his seat. “A gunslinger with hair like fire! A swordsman with no need for swords!” Locke’s gaze flicked down to where his swords rested against his leg, propped up in the floor of the box seat. The ornate handle of the gunblade wasn’t far from his fingers, just in case trouble found them on the road again. Though after Sosonado’s yarn, Locke had half a mind to let trouble succeed next time. “Please wait, gentlemen!” a clear voice called out. Locke turned in his seat, a tall ear swiveled in the voice’s direction before his eyes found the source. The bartender who’d been working the night he arrived in the Observatorium made her way across the yard, taking care to step around the hardy greens peeking through the snow.

“Is there something we can help you with, ma’am?” Sosonado asked. “The opposite. I was hoping to help the two of you.” She produced a pair of red crystals from her tunic and dropped them into Sosonado’s arms, too large for his hands as they were. “It’s not much, but perhaps they’ll keep you warm. Be it on the road or in a snowstorm, should more heroics be required.” Sosonado looked to Locke with a grin bright as the sun and set one of the crystals in his waiting hand, warm even through his glove. Locke found himself caught between rolling his eyes and giving the bartender an earnest thanks. He settled for a curt nod.

But Sosonado had no such issues speaking. “My deepest thanks! I have many things in my wagon, but crystals are unfortunately not one of them, useful though they’d be. I’ll treasure it. As will my companion here.” He looked at Locke meaningfully, but the bartender shook her head.

“No, no, it’s quite alright. He already paid for his, yeah? He needn’t thank me.” She flashed easy smiles at both of them. “Safe travels. I hope the Holy See proves lucrative.” “As do I,” Sosonado agreed, lowering his head. The bartender began to make her way back to the inn, and Sosonado collected the reins. He snapped them once, called to the chocobos, and the wagon lurched into motion. Travel was far from smooth, snow and ice still abundant along the road, but the birds were well-rested and well-trained. They avoided the worst of it where they could.

“Kind of her,” Sosonado said, dark eyes forward. “On my behalf, at any rate. She said you paid?”

Locke shrugged a shoulder. His hand lingered near his gunblade still, though he’d have liked to keep it on the crystal in his pocket, emanating its gentle warmth. “I suppose we did buy more than our share of bread, soup, and drinks. You especially. How do you eat so much, where do you put it all?”

A cant of his head. Fighting, traveling, existing, Locke supposed. He communicated this with several taps of his claws against his sword.

If Sosonado gleaned meaning from the gesture, he didn’t show it, though his eyes did follow Locke’s claws and settle on the sword. “I have been meaning to ask. That gunblade of yours is an imperial piece, isn’t it? As is your firearm. Quite ostentatious, the pair of them. Did you serve?” Locke opened his mouth. Words were hard, sometimes. They liked to get caught in his throat. But these came easily enough, even if it took a moment. “Not them.” Sosonado nodded. “Just as well. Wearing them as prominently as you do, they might draw trouble in places where folk have more of a, uh, predisposition against the empire. But you probably already know that.”

Locke hummed a confirmation but didn’t elaborate further. And for a while, that seemed to be enough conversation. Sosonado’s attention returned wholly to the road, and Locke slouched in his seat and rested his eyes. He was roused only when they arrived at Camp Dragonhead, where they made a brief stop and Sosonado declared he needed to stretch his legs.

While he was gone, Locke tended to the chocobos, unhitching them from the wagon and allowing them to rest properly while he fetched their water. The chore earned him a peck, which he excused as an accident, and a beak rubbing, which he answered with preening. He was mostly silent throughout the task, save for the occasional word of praise for whichever bird was cooperating with him at the moment.

Sosonado returned after a short while, a parcel tucked under his arm. It wasn’t until the chocobos were hitched again and the wagon was lurching forward that Sosonado dropped the package into Locke’s lap; he twitched in response, straightening and reaching for his gunblade. As his eyes settled on the coarse wrapping, he relaxed again and looked at Sosonado, a question written on his face.

“It’s merely some salted eft. Consider it a tip.” Before Locke could speak up, Sosonado waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll be compensated monetarily as well, don’t you worry. All we agreed upon and then some. Your apparent laziness aside, you’ve done your job well.”

Locke unwrapped the parcel and found a pile of dried meat there. The smell of it immediately got him salivating. He pinched a strip of it between his claws and popped it into his mouth, the salty and woody and, oh, citrusy flavors sharp on his tongue.

“Thanks,” he said. It came out garbled and unclear and a bit wet, on account of the drooling. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping it clean.

“Don’t mention it. Really. Don’t.”

More than happy to comply, Locke let the chocobos’ footfalls, the wagon’s creaking, and his chewing fill the silence for the remainder of their journey to the Holy See of Ishgard.

[cto10121]

It still floors me how Broadway producers wanted to combine Der Tod and Lucheni’s roles together for an English-language Elisabeth. Of course it’s ludicruous, but also on a very practical level…how??? How would you even do the opening scene in the underworld with Der Tod as Lucheni???

Judge: But why, Death???? Why did you kill Empress Elisabeth of Austria????

Death:

Death: Er—

Judge: Answer me, Death!!!

Death:

Death: I loved her—?

Judge: Love??? Death??? Don’t give me such fairy tales!!!

Death:

Judge: Your motive, Death!!!!

[ponderingmoonlight]

How to leave a request on this blog/general information

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Complilations

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Akaza

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Complilations

[archduchessofnowhere]

What books about Sisi do you recommend? 😄 Which ones are the best in your opinion?

Hello! I'm sorry for answering this so awfully late. I already recommended some of these books always before, but I tried to give some new recomendations this time!

BIOGRAPHIES:

Elizabeth, empress of Austria by Egon Conte Corti. The first biography of the empress based on primary sources; this work is to this day a point of reference for any historian who wants to write about Sisi. The book, first published in 1934, is however outdated and slightly biased (the children of archduchess Marie Valerie were the ones who opened up the family archives for Corti after all). Translations available in English, Spanish, French, Italian, Hungarian, Slovak, Polish and Dutch.

The Reluctant Empress, by Brigitte Hamann. The most well sourced biography since Corti's. Hamann's book departed from the fairy tale princess image that had been established since the 50s and depicted Elisabeth as a complicated and far from perfect woman. The book, first published in 1982, is however slightly outdated and biased (Hamann just hated Elisabeth lol). There are translations available in English, Spanish, Hungarian, French, Italian, Czech, Polish and Romanian.

Sisis Weg: Vom Mädchen zur Frau by Martina Winkelhofer. I made a full review of this book last month but in short: a refreshing study at Elisabeth's childhood, teenhood and first years as empress that rely on newly available primary sources. I wouldn't recommend this book as your first approach to Elisabeth though, since Winkelhofer assumes the reader is already familiar with the "Sisi myth" and doesn't tend to give much historical context outside the necessary, which may be confusing if you aren't familiar with 19th century European history in general. Translations available in Italian, Polish and Czech.

PUBLISHED DIARIES, LETTERS AND MEMOIRS:

Das Tagebuch der Lieblingstochter von Kaiserin Elisabeth edited by Martha and Horst Schad. Archduchess Marie Valerie's diary from 1878 until 1899. I own a copy of this book and I've been slowly reading it, maybe one day I'll finally finish it. There are translations available in Italian, Hungarian and Czech.

Briefe Kaiser Franz Josephs an Kaiserin Elisabeth, 1859-1898 edited by Georg Nostitz-Rieneck. A compilation of the emperor's letters to his wife. Available (as far as I know) only in German.

Lieber Rudolf: Briefe von Kaiser Franz Joseph und Elisabeth an ihren Sohn edited by Friedrich Weissensteiner. A compilation of letters that the imperial couple wrote to their son Crown Prince Rudolf between 1860 and 1878. Available (as far as I know) only in German.

Das Tagebuch der Gräfin Marie Festetics: Kaiserin Elisabeths intimste Freundin edited by Gudula Walterskirchen and Beatrix Meyer. The diary of Elisabeth's lady-in-waiting Marie Festetics. Available in German and Hungarian.

Kaiserin Elisabeth ganz privat: Briefe an ihre intimste Vertraute Ida Ferency edited by Beatrix Meyer. All the surviving correspondance between Elisabeth and her reader and confident Ida Ferenczy. Available (as far as I know) only in German.

Unsere liebe Sisi: Die Wahrheit über Erzherzogin Sophie und Kaiserin Elisabeth edited by Gabriele Praschl-Bichler. A compilation of letters by archduchess Sophie regarding her daughter-in-law and also the life of the imperial family in general. Also available in Czech.

Aus den letzten Jahren der Kaiserin Elisabeth by Countess Irma Sztáray. The memoirs of Elisabeth's last lady-in-waiting, from the time she entered service in 1894 until the empress' assassination in 1898. Currently in the public domain in German so it can be read for free here; available also in Hungarian, French, Italian and Czech.

OTHERS:

Das Poetische Tagebuch edited by Brigitte Hamann. Elisabeth's edgy poetry. Historians drag her writing style through the mud while simultaneously using her poems as if they were her private diary. Waiting for a translation in English or Spanish to read them, available also in Hungarian and Italian.

Elisabeth: Stages in a life edited by Brigitte Hamann and Elisabeth Hassmann. A nice short book about the different places Elisabeth lived and traveled to, full with pictures. Available in German and English.

My Past by Countess Marie Larisch. The memoirs of Elisabeth's controversial niece. I don't actually recommend them for learning about the empress since they are very unreliable, hence why I din't put this book in the previous block. I do recommend reading them to double check which heavily accepted facts about Elisabeth and her family originated from here, since many historians repeat her claims uncritically, sometimes without even citing her as the source. In the public domain, you can read it for free in German here and in English here. Also available in Hungarian, French, Italian and Czech.

Tagebuchblätter by Constantin Christomanos. The diary of Elisabeth's Greek teacher from 1891 to 1894. Just as with Larisch' memoirs, Christomanos' book is a mix of fiction and reality, so you should take it with a grain of salt. You can read it for free in German here and in French here. Also available in Greek, Hungarian, Italian and Spanish.

I hope that I could help you!

[dkniade]

Fischl, Venti, and Oz talk about names, identity, and elements.

Note that it’s quite wordy due to Fischl’s speech pattern and Venti playing along. Oz simplifies the conversation into prose at the end.

I haven’t written Fischl in a long time. Last time was years ago, where I wrote a short conversation between Fischl and Venti on speech patterns. But Fischl’s blurring of reality and imagination/fantasy is fascinating.

Fischl: Ah, Master Venti! Windborne Bard and writer of countless ballads ancient, are thou in need of mine assistant?

Oz: Mein Fräulein means—

Venti: Not quite assistance, but I’m just curious, Prinzessin der Verurteilung, Sovereign of Immernachtreich, Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort—

Fischl: Y-Yes?

Venti: Whence found thee the jewel of inspiration for thy holy title of darkness, O Prinzessin?

Fischl: Inspiration? I— Ahem…

Oz: Mein Fräulein—?

Fischl: I… Worry not, Oz. I shall thy curiosity satisfy, so… dedicated art thou.

Venti: Well then, thy tale this bard eagerly awaits.

Fischl: I am simply Fischl, Prinzessin der Verurteilung, the Sovereign of Immernachtreich, the Princess of Condemnation hailing from the Land of Night Eternal! Destiny bids it so that I must within this world’s reality reside, separated from my homeland until time comes that I shall return whence I came. And, ahem… One must thank thee for lending one thine ears.

Venti: Of course, mein Fräulein~

Oz: You are truly impressive, Master Venti.

Venti: Hearing others’ stories… Such is the duty of a bard, Oz.

Fischl: But now that thou hast inquired the origin of my name! Pray tell… Divulge the origins of thine.

Venti: Hehe… ‘Tis of course after the winds.

Fischl: O-Oh? After Lord Barbatos himself, perhaps?

Venti: Mm… Lord Barbatos bears many names. I simply take inspiration from his… element of dominion, ehe~

Fischl: Wonderful! As do I for my Edelstein der Dunkelheit!

Venti: I see… Tell me, dear Fischl, why do you find comfort in the space between fiction and reality?

Oz: Master Venti…

Venti: Is this world not fantastical enough for the Prinzessin? Or is there a certain tale you’re not willing to divulge?

Fischl: …

Venti: Has little me finally halted the silver tongue?

Oz: …

Venti: I weave together tales as well, as you know.

Fischl: T-Then… Let us from within our hearts bear the unheard origins of our own tales.

Venti: Ehe, alright then!

OZ

I shall translate for you the conversation between Mein Fräulein and Master Venti. Mein Fräulein and Master Venti meet, and Master Venti calls her by her full title, asking her for the origin of her name, to which she is… quite surprised. But Mein Fräulein assures me she has no problem answering Master Venti’s question. She then divulges her heritage as the Prinzessin der Verurteilung, the Sovereign of Immernachtreich, and thanks him for listening to her. Master Venti responds and I… compliment him. Then Mein Fräulein asks for the origin of Master Venti’s own name, to which he responds it’s the wind… Mein Fräulein asks out-of-character if he named himself after Lord Barbatos, and Master Venti insists that he simply takes inspiration from the Anemo element since Lord Barbatos has many names. Mein Fräulein replies that she also named her Vision after its element. Then, Master Venti, as you know, asks Mein Fräulein why she… finds “comfort in the space between fiction and reality”, and then asks if Teyvat is… not magical enough, if she… if she holds some secrets, and if he’s got her tongue-tied… And lastly… Master Venti states that he also tells stories. Mein Fräulein insists that they both keep their secrets, to which Master Venti agrees.

[missbookiverse]

Erdsee-Lesekompass

Für viele ist die Herbstzeit wie gemacht für Fantasyliteratur. Warum mit diesen Gelüsten nicht mal einen Blick in die Vergangenheit werfen und eine Reihe namens Earthsea, zu Deutsch Erdsee, entdecken, deren letzter Band bereits vor 22 Jahren erschien? Findet ihr es nicht auch spannend, zu lesen, wie Fantasy damals war und zu erkennen, was sich seitdem verändert hat? Ursula K. Le Guin ist eine fabelhafte Autorin, um genau dieser Forschung nachzugehen.

Wer ist Ursula K. Le Guin?

Ursula K. Le Guin war eine amerikanische Science-Fiction- und Fantasyautorin, die von 1929 bis 2018 lebte. Vor allem in den Sechziger Jahren war sie eine der wenigen Frauen, die in diesen Genres erfolgreich Romane veröffentlichte. So war sie z. B. die erste Frau, die den Hugo und auch den Nebula Award gewann. Le Guins Romane hoben sich oft durch feministische Kritik, durch das Hinterfragen von gewalttätigen Herangehensweisen wie Krieg, durch Kriegsalternativen, die auf friedliches Zusammenleben im Einklang mit der Umgebung abzielten, und ein anthropologisches Interesse von der breiten Masse an Genre-Veröffentlichungen ab. Spannend, wegweisend und empfehlenswert ist dazu ihr kurzer Essay The Carrier Bag of Fiction aus dem Jahr 1986, den ihr kostenlos online lesen könnt und in dem sie erklärt, warum sie die Nase voll hat von “Männergeschichten”, in denen es immer nur ums Jagen, Töten und Kämpfen geht.

Was ist Earthsea?

Earthsea ist Le Guins Fantasy-Opus-magnum, eine sechsteilige Reihe, die in einer fantastischen Inselwelt mit demselben Namen spielt und unter anderem die Geschichte vom Zauberer Ged, der Priesterin Tenar und dem Mädchen Tehanu erzählt. Inzwischen wird Earthsea bereits öfter in einem Atemzug mit Tolkiens Middle-earth und C. S. Lewis’ Narnia genannt. Das Interessante an der Earthsea-Reihe ist, dass sie sich in zwei Zyklen aufteilen lässt, die erste und die zweite Trilogie. Während die erste in den 1960er und 1970er Jahren entstand und von Le Guin eigentlich als abgeschlossen erklärt wurde, hat sie 18 Jahre später ihre Meinung geändert und eine zweite Trilogie hinzugefügt. Da diese Entstehungsgeschichte ein bisschen verwirrend sein kann, habe ich das Ganze oben grafisch aufbereitet. Die Lesereihenfolge kann übrigens ganz simpel chronologisch vorgenommen werden (wobei sich darüber streiten lässt, ob die Kurzgeschichten, also Band 5, nicht auch einfach übersprungen werden könnten). Wer die Grafik aufmerksam studiert, wird feststellen, dass auch zwischen Band 4, Tehanu, und den letzten beiden Bänden eine elfjährige Lücke klafft. Die Autorin erklärt das auf ihrer Website wie folgt: 

“When Tehanu was published I put a subtitle on it — ‘The Last Book of Earthsea.’ I was wrong! I was wrong! I really thought the story was done; Tenar had finally got her second inning, and Ged and Tenar were [Spoiler entfernt], and if I didn't know exactly who or what Tehanu was, it didn't bother me. But then it began to bother me. And a lot of things about Earthsea were bothering me, like do wizards really have to be celibate, if witches don’t? and how come no women at Roke? and who are the dragons? and where do Kargish people go when they die? I found the answers to a lot of those questions in the stories that make the Tales from Earthsea. So then I was able to find out who Tehanu is — and who the dragons are — in The Other Wind.”

Einerseits erklärt das, warum es Earthsea in so unterschiedlichen Konstellationen zu kaufen gibt (Band 1-3 und 4-6 gesammelt, Band 1-4 gesammelt, einzeln) und andererseits illustriert es wunderbar, was Le Guin zu so einer genialen Autorin gemacht hat: Für sie war nichts in Stein gemeißelt. Sie hat sich mit ihren Lebensjahren verändert, ihre Meinungen revidiert und damit manchmal auch den Blick auf ihr eigenes Werk.

Was macht Earthsea so besonders?

Für eine Reihe, die in den Sechzigern entstand und aus der Feder einer weißen Frau stammt, ist es beachtlich, dass die meisten Figuren in Earthsea People of Color sind (was sich zu Le Guins Unmut nicht immer in der Covergestaltung niedergeschlagen hat). Für Le Guin war das eine bewusste Entscheidung, da die Fantasywerke, die sie um sich herum wahrnahm, keinerlei Vielfalt boten (aufgeschlüsselt in diesem Tor-Artikel). Ob sie sich diese Perspektive überhaupt aneignen darf, hat sie dabei ebenfalls beschäftigt und sie sagt 2004 im Slate Magazine Folgendes dazu: 

“So far no reader of color has told me I ought to butt out, or that I got the ethnicity wrong. When they do, I’ll listen. As an anthropologist’s daughter, I am intensely conscious of the risk of cultural or ethnic imperialism—a white writer speaking for nonwhite people, co-opting their voice, an act of extreme arrogance. In a totally invented fantasy world, or in a far-future science fiction setting, in the rainbow world we can imagine, this risk is mitigated. That’s the beauty of science fiction and fantasy—freedom of invention.”

Diese Aneignung mit Genre-Distanz abzutun, finde ich persönlich etwas fragwürdig und würde heute so vielleicht auch nicht mehr akzeptiert werden, aber gleichzeitig ist es eben nicht zu unterschätzen, was für einen Unterschied diese Art der Repräsentation von PoC in Fantasywelten damals gemacht haben dürfte.

In Sachen Gender und Feminismus kann Le Guin allerdings aus persönlicher Erfahrung schöpfen und tut dies am auffälligsten in Tehanu. Zur Erinnerung: Es sind fast 20 Jahre vergangen, seit die erste Earthsea-Trilogie veröffentlicht wurde und wir befinden uns nun in den Neunzigern. Die dritte Welle des Feminismus bricht los und Le Guin treiben eine Menge Fragen um: Warum stehen in den meisten Fantasyromanen Männer im Fokus? Wieso sind ältere Frauen, solche mit erwachsenen Kindern, so unsichtbar? Wieso gibt es selbst in Earthsea nur Zauberer und eine Schule nur für sie? Was ist das für eine Welt, in der Mädchen und Frauen von Männern vergewaltigt werden und in Angst vor diesen leben? In Tehanu geht Le Guin all diesen Fragen nach, hinterfragt und kritisiert die Fantasy-Stereotype ihrer selbst geschaffenen Welt und verhandelt Misogynie und Rape Culture der Realität. Dazu schreibt sie treffend im Locus Magazine:

“I'm only sorry it took me to Book Four of Earthsea to be able to refuse the prejudice that sees male as the norm.”

Weitere Themen, die euch in Earthsea begegnen, sind der Tod und seine Grenzen, der Umgang mit und das Gleichgewicht zwischen Menschen und ihrer Umwelt, die Frage nach Macht und die Macht der Worte. Ihr merkt vielleicht schon, dass Earthsea mit all diesen Themen wohl keine besonders actiongeladene Handlung zu bieten hat. Es gibt natürlich Reisen und Quests, aber eben auch viele Gespräche und philosophische Überlegungen. Außerdem sind die Bücher für heutige Verhältnisse oft ungewohnt gerafft erzählt, aber wenn ihr nicht nur gute Fantasybücher lesen wollt, sondern euch auch für ihren Entstehungs- und Entwicklungskontext interessiert, seid ihr hier genau richtig. Wobei ich gestehen muss, dass Earthsea auch losgelöst von seiner geschichtlichen Einordnung eine urige, gemütliche Atmosphäre versprüht und interessante Geschichten erzählt.

Welches Medium passt zu mir?

Da Earthsea sich seit Jahrzehnten so großer Beliebtheit erfreut, gibt es inzwischen eine ganze Handvoll Wege, die Geschichten kennenzulernen. Ganz klassisch gibt es da natürlich die Bücher in Originalsprache oder auch in der neuen deutschen Übersetzung von Karen Nölle, Hans-Ulrich Möhring und Sara Riffel (im Deutschen momentan als gigantische, illustrierte Gesamtausgabe oder in 2 Sammelbänden mit je der ersten und zweiten Trilogie erhältlich). In beiden Sprachen sind Hörbücher verfügbar und es gibt sogar ein Hörspiel. Ursprünglich stammt dieses von der BBC, aber inzwischen hat der WDR auch eine deutsche Version produziert, die ihr kostenlos als Hörspiel-Podcast anhören könnt. Staffel 1 umfasst die erste Trilogie und Staffel 2 Buch 4 und 6. Der Inhalt ist hier natürlich stark runtergebrochen, aber als Einstieg oder Auffrischung ist diese erstklassige Produktion absolut empfehlenswert. Der Vollständigkeit halber will ich auch die Verfilmung von 2004 erwähnen, die allein schon wegen des white-washings der Charaktere von der Autorin abgelehnt wurde (wie im Slate Magazine kommentiert) und deren Trailer alles andere als ansprechend aussieht. Interessant, aber ebenfalls weit weg von den Büchern ist die Studio-Ghibli-Umsetzung namens Tales from Earthsea, die sich größtenteils auf Band 3 bezieht.

Und jetzt erzählt mir mal, wie vertraut ihr bereits mit Le Guin und Earthsea wart oder ob ich euch neugierig machen konnte und mit welchem Medium ihr gern nach Earthsea reisen würdet.

[lu-inlondon]

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I really enjoyed reading yours and I feel extremely self-concious now because it your answers covered such a wide range and were so fascinating.

But I'm boring, so let's get into that :)

Three Ships: Hörk, Dreamling, Lukloé

2. First-ever ship: I really want to say Kim and Ron from Kim Possible when I was about 10 or so? But who didn't? :D Then there were a lot of ships in books that I rooted for, most of which were set up to become canon one day. I think the first ship I was really invested in that went nowhere was Nyx and Lothaire from Kresley Cole's Immortals After Dark Series (I like Emmaline but I'm still salty about it tbh).

3. Last Song: Fireside - Arctic Monkeys

There's all these secrets that I can't keep Like in my heart there's that hotel suite And you lived there so long It's kind of strange now you're gone I'm not sure if I should show you what I've found Has it gone for good or is it coming back around?

I mean, at the moment most songs give me Hörk feels, but this part fits them - Leo especially - so well.

4. Last Movie: Das Märchen von der Regentrude because it as on TV this morning and I usually watch a fairy tale on Sundays. before that I re-watched the Spatort films because I had a cold and they are comforting to me.

5. Currently reading: Does fanfiction count? If not, I also recently started re-reading Pride and Prejudice, there's Rotkehlchen by Jo Nesbø on my nightstand and a book on bookbinding on my desk.

6. Currently watching: Right at this moment I'm watching Tatort because I'm old and German and eventually that catches up with you . Other than that I'm making my way through Sex Education. It's not really my thing but it's nice background noise for knitting and all the other stuff.

7. Currently consuming: Tea - as always - and some really lovely blueberries I bought yesterday

8. Currently craving: the will to write job applications :D I found a really great posting so I should really do that tomorrow but I hate it...

Well, that was fun! So I'm tagging @charmanter-glueckskeks, @writingowl1985, @falleraatje, @neverland-in-space, @karalynlovescake, @aanabear2803

and of course everyone who wants to do this

[powerfought]

@0fdevotion asked: Sneaks. Thea pickpockets Zevlor. >:)

a sigh. a long, tired sigh. she is sneaky, well-practiced, but he's become rather accustomed to the feeling of small hands searching rather empty pockets. "amalthea, if you need something, you can simply ask. when have i ever been known to have the ability to say no to you?"

[epic-song-lyrics-showdown]

Select Artists with songs in the showdown Pt. 1

This one is instrumental submissions and other language song submissions. If you see a song and are like hey this should be somewhere else the answer is probably no although there may have been mistakes. Unless there is a repeat of a song somewhere or the artist shows up on another list they are meant to be here. Check out the other lists here.

Morituri te salutant - Karen Kryl

Katayoku No Tori (One-winged bird) - Akiko Shikata

The narrative and poetic beauty of the burning out of the brightest stars - Aierie Dragonslayer

Do The Impossible - Lena Raine

MUKANJYO - Survive Said The Prophet

Emlékszem (I Remember) - AWS

Hotel California - The Eagles

Travelers Encore - Andrew Phralpw

Heroine - Dutch Disorder

The Pitiful Children - Be More Chill (Two Rivers Version)

Olkinainen (Straw Woman) - Miljoonasade

Hullu Kukko (Mad Rooster) - Pekko Käppi & K.H.H.L

I’m Glad You’re Evil Too - PinocchioP

Across the Stars - John Williams

Divenire - Ludovico Einaudi

MIRACULOUS | 🦋 HAWK MOTH - THEME SONG 🎵 | Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir - Miraculous Ladybug (Is the version we got in French, no, however the TV show is French so)

On Brulera - Pomme

Ceux qui Revent - Pomme

When Night Becomes Day - Finish Ticket

Sere Nere - Tiziano Ferron

Lake Washington Boulevard - Pinguini Tattici Nucleari

Nonono - Pinguini Tattici Nucleari

Het regent zonnestralen - Acda & De Munnik

Der Strom der Zeit - Peter Maffay

Raison d'être (レーゾンデートル) - E ve

4’33” - John Cage

Dragostea Din Tei - O-Zone

Hush Sally, Hush! - Carpenter Brut

Formidable - Stromae

Cha Cha Cha - Käärijä

Le Bien Qui Fait Mal - Mozart L’Opera Rock

Victime de ma Victoire - Mozart L’Opera Rock

Jugo de Naranja - Spanish food vocabulary song - Señora McPeak Spanish

Forbidden Friendship - John Powell

New Tail - John Powell

New ‘New’ Tail - John Powell

Stoick’s Ship - John Powell

Once There Were Dragons - John Powell

[thegamemaster1]

Why Red Dead Redemption 2 is a masterpiece?

Red Dead Redemption stands at one of the best and loved games of all-time, Developed by Rockstar Games, this American old-western open world took the world by storm in it's release in 2018. it gives another look to people to the open world, inviting them to take a ride into a journey with heart racing moments, breathtaking views and narrative that gets traditional gaming experience to a whole new level. I will be explaining the points of Red Dead Redemption 2 like gameplay mechanics, storyline and amazing biomes.

Immense Open World

The open world of Red Dead 2 is nothing but a masterpiece, going to several regions, every area has an unique detail being designed. it shows forests, mountains with snow, deserts and the city of Saint Denis - every place brims with life, having a unique flora and fauna to the biome and habitats.

2. Unforgettable characters

In Red Dead 2 what most attract about this game is the characters, that after playing the game they stay in the player's heart's forever. the main character Arthur Morgan, is the anchor of the masterpiece that is today. by playing him every minute of the game he grows as a person and inner self, able to makes choices on his own.

The Van der Linde gang, led by Dutch Van der Linde, has his family of outlaws who little by little got bigger. he got his wise friend Hosea Matthews, and the loyal and endearing Lenny Summers, each member has his own personality and backstory. among those characters there's John Marston, whose we see him transforming to the protagonist of the first Red Dead Redemption.

3. An enthralling narrative

Red Dead 2's narrative is epic, emotional and complex. the first moments of the game players find themselves engulfed in a thrilling tale that navigates themes of loyalty, betrayal, and the pursuit of redemption. The story has character-driven arcs and themes that resonate deeply with the players.

As Arthur Morgan, you go from place to place with the Van der Linde gang, (in Dutch's perspective)he's in search of a place that they can be free without being chased or with a needle on their throats. The Wild west is changing, believing that their only way for now is marching to modernization, seeing that the gang find it hard to adapt every time they move.

4. Visual and spectacular details

Red Dead 2 has a beautiful and spectacular game graphics and auditory that it's a feast to our eyes and senses. the attention to the details extend the game graphics, which are breathtaking.

The game's soundtracks are inspiring. From orchestras compositions to acoustic melodies, the soundtrack gives emotional impact of the key moments in the game. Whenever it's peaceful moments, hauntingly melodies or adrenaline high-action sequences, the music is a feast to the player in the game atmosphere.

5. Players decisions and consequences

In Red Dead 2 the game makes you take decisions in main story, even in side missions that impact the story. The Honor tracks the players action and determines Arthur morale like acts of kindness or selflessness that will lead to high honor, while doing violent and malicious acts lead to low honor. The honor system on how you have it high or low will depend on your ending in the story.

Thanks for stopping by and read my article if you have any questions comment and they will be answered!

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Celeste, the angel

Sherlock. You don't have to answer to me. That's between you and God.

That is a long word, but it has a short history: it comes from a German, a late Christian writer named Schiller. The name means "spiritual," but only the German meaning, and I am going to use the name Celeste for the purpose of this essay. The word has its origins in the Book of Genesis, in one of the world's first accounts of the creation of the world, where the word is used of God's first act, "Let us make man" (Gen. 1:26). God calls his first man after Himself, "Celeste," then lets him run free, to "rule the earth."

It is, in itself, a noble word, but it is a very old one. The first known use is in a poem by the German poet Gottfried August von Leibniz, and the poem is called Der Steppenwolf ("The stepping stone wolf"). (Googling "Celeste von Leibniz" will give you some more details about the poem and its author.)

It was a long time before other people started to use the word in a textual sense. I do not mean to disparage the people who had to be first. I do not mean to diminish the importance of their work. But by the time the der Steppenwolf was translated and used by English-speaking writers, the poem was a thousand years old. I am not sure if the Book of Genesis was much younger when the word "Celeste" got its start in that book, though my intuitions say yes.

I feel like I know more about Gottfried August von Leibniz because of the poem, which was not so far from the German for me, a language I do not speak. He is a more distant and more revered figure, and more of a German. I have a vague feeling that it was a lot more difficult to translate a poem about a wolf and a woman into English when the name of the woman was a phrase like "the most noble of women" and the language you were translating into was a language that did not exactly look like it had been written for this exact purpose. Gottfried August von Leibniz was probably very good at poetry, but he didn't know how to use English in the best way: he would have written a word like "Celestina," which is a perfectly valid English name if you're in the habit of transliterating foreign names to English, but a mistake if you are trying to do the name justice.

There is a certain dignity to being the first person to try to capture a poem or a word with an English name for it, but there is also the other side of the medal: being first is not an entirely safe position, in this case because it took a long time. You can't just pick up a word, any word, and use it to name a new subject. Once a word has a textual history it is almost certain to have many other textual histories behind it, from translations to misinterpretations to uses you never knew about. I was reading an article about the word "Celeste," and I realized that it came from Leibniz's poem Die Zauberflöte (Magic Flute), a kind of fairy-tale-as-opera with some fairy tales as instrumental (not as incidental) parts. It was probably not the first place the word "Celeste" showed up, though.

You may feel that this is rather a personal, even childish interest, and that is true. This is the sort of thing that children get deeply fixated on. There are a few possible explanations for this, but the one I believe is that children have a natural tendency toward pattern recognition, toward thinking about connections and patterns. That means that they're inclined toward stories and symbols and patterns and relationships that can be seen and understood by a child. They love these things, because they are the basis of their world.

And they want to know where everything comes from.

Celeste is a perfect word, and people have been wanting to talk about what kind of a word that is ever since there have been human beings who cared enough about what kind of a word that is to write anything down at all.

And then the internet came along. For a long time, the most important feature of the internet was not its speed or its convenience or its anonymity, but its abundance. On the internet you could find almost anything. Anything you could think of, you could find. Anything you could think of could be put online, by someone, somewhere. For a time, it seemed possible that all the thinking, all the talking, all the reading, all the art, all the entertainment, all the ideas, all the beauty and the terror of human life could be put online.

Then that ended. The internet became a place for the things people could not put online.

It became a place where people could share their lives, and their deepest pain, with the entire world, but still do it with the security of anonymity. It became a place that the police could not use against them, a place you could be as evil as you wanted while still hiding behind the screen, and you could be as alone as you wanted while still talking with others.

But that kind of anonymity has costs.

No place has perfect safety. We all know this. No place has perfect security. We all know that, too. The internet has been used since its creation for all sorts of harmful acts, all sorts of cruel things.

But that doesn't mean it's not useful.

There is a place on the internet where people can speak to one another without the risk of being exposed. This may seem like a simple fact, but it is actually kind of astonishing in the way it is so often ignored. The internet has become a place where people can say what they want to say, and know they will never be exposed (not in the sense that they are not observed, or not reported).

The internet has become the perfect place to say and publish what you don't want people to read.

And that is very useful.

Some of you have read my essays about Tourette Syndrome and Tourette's-related social difficulties; some of you know my family's story. My uncle used to have tics (now his tics are under control), and people who didn't understand that kind of difficulty could not understand him. The internet created a place for him to say what he wanted to say, and to know that people would never read it. Now he can make the kind of jokes that he wants to make without people being scared by the prospect of tics and Tourette's being used against him in court.

That's not true for everyone,

[realmythsmoved]

@flownintothesun continued from here

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 are soft ones — almost too gentle and sweet for someone who has seen the kind of life that they have, and Westley realizes with a start that it’s just how he remembers her, too — always good, always kind. It hadn’t mattered to the system or the ‘parents’ (and he uses that term lightly)...but it had mattered to the other kids, it had mattered to him. Away from her for so long — he’d forgotten that there was an alternative track to the one he’s been on for all this time. And that’s about the time he realizes that he’d been talking about himself.        Westley hasn’t really seen himself as a good person in a long time — maybe ever, if he’s being honest. The man he’d once called ‘Papa’ had given him up at five years old with no explanation in a country and city he didn’t speak the language. Some of his first memories are hearing tales of his Papa from his first home, and how Westley must have been so bad that the man named van der Sterren didn’t want him.       In all of Westley’s years spent in the criminal underworld with his boss, Coco, and the other workers — Westley’s searched for a lot of lost things, looked for a lot of answers. He’s never looked for his Papa. Even all of these years later, he doesn’t think that he has the heart to face a reality where the man might have gone on to have a new family while Westley was left to rot. He doesn’t think that’s something he could come back from. Sometimes, not knowing is better.      When Persephone kind of forces him to look at it — he wonders if there is truly such a thing as ‘bad’ and ‘good’ or if it’s more complicated than that. His smile is tired, and doesn’t quite meet the eyes. “I guess it depends on your outlook of things, yeah? Whether there’s such a thing as true good and true evil, who the narrator of the story is, what their justification is. Some people get more choices than others — like a deck of cards. It’s not always fair, there’s not always a good choice or a good trajectory. But some people just choose wrong because it’s who they want to be. I think that probably counts for a lot.”

Persephone doesn't know any other way to be, but gentle and kind. Her birth parents and now her adoptive parents had nurtured her personality. Sure, her first two pairs of foster parents hadn't. But she always refused to let them change her. So why would this be an exception? No, Persy is who she is, and she doesn't know how to be anyone else, nor would she want to.

There had been times, of course, in her first two foster homes when she had wished she could conform. Wished she could do anything to make the pain and horror she went through stop. But she could not be anyone but herself. And her first two pairs of foster parents had found it impossible to accept her for who she actually was. They had tried and failed to change her, mold her into a perfectly "normal" average young girl. But Persephone is anything but average and "normal." And she's fine with that.

Persephone notices his smile, how it doesn't reach his eyes, how tired he is. And she wonders what he's been through since they had last seen each other. She would ask, but should she? She doesn't want to touch on a sore subject or make him relive anything he doesn't want to. But she can't help but be a bit curious.

Instead, she focuses on his words. "Oh, there is. I suppose there's also such a thing as truly neutral or grey. But good and evil definitely exist." That's how Persy sees it, anyway. She knows that good people exist. As do evil people. Sadly. So therefore as concepts, good and evil exist as well. Though Persephone hadn't always seen the grey areas, now she does. And though she prefers to remain firmly on the side of good, she does understand that some people have circumstances that almost decide for them. They might want to be good, do the right thing, but the odds are against them. As Westley had said, there aren't always good choices.

"Though I do agree that the choices aren't always there. Sometimes the odds are stacked against someone. And the only choices they can make are bad ones. But if they have good choices, and choose the bad ones anyway, well....that would make them bad, right?" That's how Persephone sees it, anyway. She believes that those who can choose what is right, what is kind, always should. And that those who fail to do so are just bad people. But redemption. She likes to believe that even for those people, redemption is possible. That doesn't necessarily mean those they've wronged have to forgive them. Not if they can't or don't want to. But it does mean that people can change and grow and be good people even if they were previously bad.

"And yes, I think it matters if someone wants to be wrong or harmful as opposed to someone doing harm unconsciously or because it's their only choice. I think that one should always try to choose what one believes is right, and what is kind. Especially if someone has all the choices in the world. If that's the case and they still choose to be mean or harmful, well, that is what evil is to me." Though she is certain everyone has their own version of evil. Still, she does believe in redemption. Although it is hard for her to imagine her first two foster parents redeeming themselves. Still, she does hope that eventually they would. If only for the sake of those who do interact with them on a regular basis. Everyone deserves to be treated with respect, after all.

"I do believe in redemption, even for those who have done wrong. But redemption and forgiveness are two different things. Those who someone has hurt don't necessarily have to forgive them. Or interact with them at all. However, that person can still be redeemed and interact with others provided they change their behavior and stop harming people. What do you think?" She is curious to hear Westley's thoughts. She's certain they'll be different than hers. Though she's alright with that. Hearing different perspectives is something Persephone genuinely enjoys and appreciates. As long as the perspectives aren't hurtful or harmful in some way. But she doesn't think Westley's will be. They may see things differently, but she truly believes he is a good person. And she's seen nothing to change her mind about that.

[johndeerequeer]

Chapter 4

Play Your Cards

Masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Warnings: Attempted SA mentioned

Read on Ao3

The Van der Linde gang. A few days ago she was working her ass off for a stuffy old man who hardly remembered her name. Now she was a fugitive on the run, living amongst a dying breed of outlaws, washing her laundry in a marsh. She heard about gangs like this when she was young. These daring, thrilling, swashbuckling tales of gunslingers in the west were swapped happily amongst her childhood friends.

The first few days of acquainting herself with this new frontier were slow, but it was a pace she was grateful for. The folks around her came and went, living their lives as if nothing was different and, for them, nothing was. She kept to herself most of the time, finding it difficult to settle into place amongst them.

She gave her clothes a thorough scrub on the washboard in the swampy edges of the Lannaheche before hanging them up to dry. As she wandered back to the house, she approached a woman lounging on the porch of the house, oiling a rifle with great attention. She was one of the people she had yet to get the name of. Her long blonde locks swayed in the breeze. Her stern expression softened as she passed her.

“Mornin’,” she greeted quietly.

The woman nodded politely. Mads hesitated at the door.

“Mads, right?” the woman inquired.

She turned to her, startled, and nodded in reply.

“I’ve heard about you, I guess we never met proper. I’m Sadie, Sadie Adler,” she greeted in a warm, raspy voice.

“It’s good to meet you,” she replied.

“I wasn’t sure if you were gonna stick around,” Sadie told her.

Mads cleared her throat with a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, well, I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“I suppose that’s why I'm still here,” Sadie replied with a chuckle.

A smile crept into Mads features as she wandered over to her.

“That’s beautiful,” Mads noted, gesturing to her rifle.

The blackened steel glinted in the morning sun, freshly oiled, offset by a yellow leather wrapping. Sadie nodded, turning it over in her hands.

“You ever shoot before?” Sadie asked after a pause.

Mads shook her head.

“Well, let’s change that.”

She stowed her rifle on her shoulder and beckoned Mads to follow her. They wandered beyond the caravan of wagons to the open field nearby. A pile of crates lay scattered before them. Sadie rummaged through one and fished out an arm full of empty beer bottles. She began lining them on one of the crates.

“I found these make for great target practice,” she explained, “I figure we get some practice in while you tell me about yourself.”

Mads watched her set up their targets as anxiety clenched her belly in a tight fist.

“What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to share, I suppose,” Sadie answered as she approached her with rifle extended to her, “but first, let me walk you through this.”

Mads reached hesitantly and laid her grip on it. Sadie didn’t let go but pointed her finger at the base of the gun.

“This here is a Carbine Repeater. You got your trigger, your hammer and your sight. These are the more important bits. You’re gonna hold it like so.”

She pulled back and demonstrated.

“You’re gonna pull back on the hammer here to load it. You’re gonna look down your sight, whatever you’re looking to hit should line up with this bit here. You’re gonna take a breath, let it go, and fire by pulling the trigger,” she instructed and then handed Mads the rifle.

She adjusted her grip and gave the gun a once over. She pulled it to her right shoulder and tried to emulate the way Sadie held it.

“That’s right,” Sadie cooed. She hollered a word of warning to the rest of camp before nodding to her.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Mads sucked in a deep breath. She pulled back the hammer and felt the bullet load into place. She lined the sight up with one of the bottles and fired. The sound rang in her ears. The shot shattered the bottle into a multitude of shrapnel. The force pulsed through her whole body and rattled her teeth.

“Well done! You’ll start to get used to it,” Sadie said, “It took me a while.”

Mads extended the rifle back to her.

“You can keep going if you like,” she offered, “you still gotta tell me why you’re here.”

Mads cleared her throat and pulled the rifle back into position.

“I, uh- there was an accident at my work. This guy tried to-”

She lowered the rifle with a frown.

“He tried to force himself on me, and I…I,” she stumbled.

“You killed him?” Sadie affirmed more than asked.

Mads nodded, her stomach turning at the thought.

“I was arrested,” she mumbled gravely, “and I made some enemies it seems. Arthur and Charles broke me out before they got the chance to finish me off.”

Sadie nodded solemnly. The words hung in the air like a fetid stench stinging her nose. The guilt began to eat at her again.

“I didn’t want to- I didn’t mean-” Mads tried to say.

“Mads, you don’t got to explain yourself,” Sadie interjected, “a lot of the folks around here got stories like that.”

Sadie shifted with her hand resting on her belt.

“Hell, me, I lived a simple, honest life before all this with my husband, Jake,” she told her, swallowing thickly before she went on, “some degenerates came a knocking one day and took him from me. That’s when the gang found me. Sometimes life don’t give you a choice with stuff like this. Stuff happens to you, and it changes everything.”

“So what did you do?” Mads asked.

Sadie sighed. A heaviness hung on her shoulders.

“Nothing… at first. I was a mess. Thank god for the gang, Abigail especially, they pulled me out of the hole I was in,” she trailed off, “now… I guess I’ve been tryna make something outta the cards I was handed.”

Mads nodded.

“You have the opportunity now to do the same,” Sadie added.

Mads lined up the rifle again and fired off a few more shots; taking a few attempts to finish off her targets.

“Get Arthur to take you into town, get yourself the things you need,” she told her “that’s what I did.”

She handed the rifle back to Sadie.

“I-I don’t wanna trouble him,” she replied sheepishly.

“He’s not as mean as he looks,” Sadie told her, “he broke you outta jail, he can stand to take you shopping.”

Mads chuckled.

“And get yourself a repeater while you’re there, if you fancy,” Sadie added, “It suits you.”

She scoffed at the ludicrous idea.

“I’m serious,” Sadie chided, “and then come find me if you wanna get some practice in with it.”

She wandered back into camp and came upon Arthur downing some breakfast by the fire. She paused for a moment and watched quietly. The urge to walk away and disappear inside herself was potent. She forced herself to approach him.

“Morning,” she greeted quietly.

He turned with a small smile.

“Mornin’,” he replied.

“I got a favour to ask,” she began, fiddling with the ties on her skirt.

“Okay?”

“You mind taking me for a supply run?”

“A supply run,” he mulled the words along his tongue.

“Sadie said you’d be a good person to ask.”

“Did she now?”

“She said you took her shopping once.”

“What I did was let her tag along on a mail run. She’s the one who decided to go buck wild in the store and buy herself a whole wardrobe.”

Mads chuckled and then paused.

“You don’t have to, I didn’t wanna bother you-“

“Nah, it’s no bother, I’ll take you to Valentine, and we’ll get you fixed up.”

“Valentine? Why Valentine?”

“Well, I figure neither of us is actively wanted there so…”

She nodded with a frown.

“Okay,” she said finally, “Valentine it is.”