#( but will probs arrive for our records like next week )

[truethes]

watched some of the available scenes on youtube but honestly forgot how often people commented to ku.ro about how 'normal' mahi.ru was for an eve which, at the beginning is rather easy to relate to mahi.ru's simple outlook of life but also equivalates to how, before this, ku.ros life has always been alongside other supernatural beings.

[melisa-may-taylor72]

Accolades such as “greatest single long-playing achieve­ment since Sgt. Pepper” and “the most important record album ever made” fall over Queen’s latest album as easily as butter melt­ing on a hot potato—but few realize what a hot potato the album actually was in its pre-release days. It took a bevy of high-powered attorneys, some low-life finagling, and more than the usual amount of wheeler­dealing just to get the album out without its being hacked to death by defamation-of-character suits.

Guitarist Brian May explains: “I’m in real difficulty here because I’ve been threatened with libel because our old management had a good go at stop­ping the album coming out. They thought “Death on Two Legs’’ was about them. They wanted us to take the track off and we nearly had to, and in fact they got a load of money out of our publishing company be­cause it supposedly was libelous, but it’s never been proven. It’s all very stupid—they wanted to sue Freddie, the band, the publishing company, and the record company.”

All very dramatic stuff, but a band like Queen survives not on operatic finesse alone, but on gut-level melo- dramatics in the business department as well. When you produce your rec­ords, write the songs, play all the in­struments, and do everything your­self, chances are you’re going to have to pay some legal dues, too. But ah! the rewards—such as the single, “Bo­hemian Rhapsody,” hanging into the #1 spot in the British charts for seven weeks in a row!

“We’re a bit more in the public eye now, we’re starting to get recognized a lot more,” says Brian May. “We’re carrying on working just as we did before, but obviously we’re very pleas­ed with how the record’s doing. It’s sold more than a million copies in England— can’t believe it.” But it’s true: Queen’s stature in England has risen from that of The #1 teenage hard rock band to that of the-group- that-made-the-single-that-every-house- wife-knows-by-heart”.

What propelled Queen in that di­rection is their Night at the Opera album, a slight departure from what Queen fans know to be the Queen sound. The hard rock screams have temporarily subsided, replaced by ex­perimentation with different voicings of instruments and production tricks. Those who found Queen’s approach overdecibelled can relax to the quiet “ ‘39” or “Good Company” and tap their feet to “Lazing on a Sunday Af­ternoon” without fear of being gui- tarred to death. “It’s just what came out,” says Brian. “They’re offshoots of our main direction. There’s plenty of time for the rock.”

“The album wasn’t really supposed to go in the direction that it did, it was just the songs we had. While we were making it we were thinking, ‘Yeah, it is getting a bit light,’ but rather than fight against it we de­cided to do it properly and then think again afterwards. So instead of try­ing to heavy up the lighter things, we pressed on. We had a few things we didn’t use, but we’re getting more demanding of ourselves. There are a few heavy things kicking around, but we may use them on the next record.”

The two strongest forces in Queen have always been Brian and Freddie. With A Night at the Opera, where experimentation and branching out in new directions are the most obvious characteristics, the personalities of the band are often obscured by the newly emerging elements. “Some­times I feel that Freddie and I are going in different directions, but then he’ll come up with something and I’ll think, ‘My God—we do think alike.’ When I’m working on one of his things I can tune in very easily to what guitar part he wants, and vice-versa. In terms of what we’re trying to do in songs, we are moving in different directions, but I think that could be a good thing.”

QUEEN II: Critical response to the band is now almost unanimous­ly favorable in both Great Britain and the United States, which is quite phe­nomenal when you stop and think of how anxious many critics were to pan them two years ago.“I’m not going to take it too seriously,” Brian says, “because I remember what the critics said about Queen II. It would seem that everybody is beginning to like us. … very much. I can take it at that level, but there’s no doubt in my mind that sometime in the future there’ll come a time when we get slagged for everything. Queen II is still my favorite of the Queen albums, certainly the most daring. Especially for the time. I think we’re still finding our feet now, and the way I feel about the new album is that we’re searching for new directions and most of them are sort of half-formed. We’ve got the Queen II feel in some places, and in others we’ve got the Sheer Heart Attack polish. I don’t think we’re quite sure where we’re going”.

“This album, at the very least, ne­gates all the comparisons to Led Zep­pelin that we’ve been living with for the past three years. I think Physical Graffiti is amazing, by the way. I saw Zeppelin at Earls Court, and I met Pagey afterward, for the first time. It was great, he was very nice and gentle. I respect him a tremendous amount for “Kashmir” and “The Light,” for being able to put his brain on record—- it wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t play a note.”

Economic criticism has been less favorable, however. A Night at the Opera was wide­ly rumored to be “the most expensive album ever made” when it was released, a point which Queen’s management denies. Nevertheless, Queen has been taken to task by quite a few English journalists for spending so much money estimated at £30-40,000—making one record. Brian has a retort: “We wouldn’t have spent so much money if the studios weren’t so bloody expensive!

The album was recorded in seven of them, sometimes three at once.” We weren’t mucking about for any of it, it was four months of solid work. It came down to having the equipment available for four months, and we didn’t begrudge the amount of time spent in the studios, but it comes to a fair amount of money. There’s a lot of things that seem light, like “Good Company,” which actually took a great deal of time and care. All those trumpets and clarinets being fashioned from guitar sounds—I took it quite seriously because I wanted to do it right, even though it was a light­hearted thing. We worked too hard for our own health, we got a bit down and depressed.”

While Queen was laying about England between record and tour, a few of them got going on some independent projects. Brian and Roger produced an R&B group’s single, but there were some record company hassles and it may be some time before the record gets released. And on the eve of the Amer­ican tour, Freddie Mercury went into the studios with a singer/songwriter managed by the Rocket Organization (which manages Queen as well) to try his hand at production. “Eddie How­ells is the guy’s name, and he’s man­aged by David Mead, and they’re do­ing a single for Warners. I’m play­ing some guitar on it.” Brian re­strained himself from going out on any limbs before the American tour in order to get himself physically fit. His health had been a crucial prob­lem on an earlier American tour, and he’s not particularly anxious to spend time in hospitals when he could be on­stage instead. “I actually get more tired offtour than ontour,”he admits. But I am in good health.”

HAIRY LEGS: Once the English leg of the tour did get started, word started to flow very quickly back to the States about Queen’s dramatic stage show—a stage show to end all stage shows, with Mercury donning short-shorts to add a bit of the hairy leg to Queen’s otherwise pristeen pre­sentation. “The show is the same, but different,” Brian says confusedly. “We’ve merely developed what we did before with some new material from the new album. It’s a bit of re­shuffling. Plus we do “Doing All- right” from the first album, which we’ve never done onstage before. And “Seven Seas of Rhye,” which we’d do in England but never in America be­fore. It’s quite a lot different, ac­tually.”

American audiences got their first chance to sample the new presenta­tion on January 27 in Waterbury, Conn., when the first concert of Queen’s scheduled 32-date, 21-city American tour got underway in the Palace Theatre. After arriving in the States at Kennedy International on January 20 and spending a couple of days in New York for interviews, Queen began five days of rehearsals at the Palace to ready their show for American fans across the country.

After Waterbury they dove headfirst into the intensive six-week tour, which featured extended runs in New York, Philadelphia, and Los Angeles before its scheduled end March 12 at the San Diego Sports Arena.

Despite the novel direction of the new album, onstage Queen proved to be the same rocking outfit they’ve always been, letting loose with the same kind of guitar-bass-drums-piano barrage they’ve delivered in the past. “We don’t do “39” or “Lazing on aSunday Afternoon” in our show,“ Brian explains. He seems a bit defensive of Queen’s rock spirit, which is kept intact in the live set by “BohemianRhapsody,” “Sweet Lady,” “Prophet Song” and the deletion of the “experimental tunes” from A Night At the Opera.

By the by, those who missed Queenon earlier tours but want to see how they’ve changed now have the means. Queen bave joined the prestigious ranks of the Zeppelins, the Beatles, and the Rolling Stones whereby sorne illegal entrepreneur has issued a boot­ leg album of one of their American concerts. “I hate those things-they rarely give an accurate picture of the group,” Brian states unequivocally, and in this case he’s right. The Queen bootleg has transistor radio fidelity, and the only truly audible members of the band are Brian and Freddie. Yet the fact that a bootleg exists confirms the fact that Queen is now well on their way to the top.

CIRCUS MAGAZINE, APRIL 1975

@natromanxoff, @mephisto92, @moviestorian, @x5vale, @39-brian, @onegoldenglance, @crosmopolitan, @an-abyss-called-life, @his-majesty-king-mercury, @i-live-for-queen, @brian-39-may, @toomuchlove-willkillyou, @brimaymay, @sail-away-sweet-sister, @drummerqueenrmt, @old-fashioned-roger-boy-deactiv, @briianmaay, @l-over-bo-y, @inui-mycroft, @deacytits, @iminlovewithrogscar, @drowseoftaylor, @brianmayislongaway, @balticlover, @astrophysicist-guitar-god​, @miez-lakatz, @brianmayoucease, @jesus-in-a-life-boat, @roger-taylors-car, @silapril, @sherrifanciesfriskyfreddie, @tenderbri, @brianmydear, @thosequeenboys, @millionairewaltz-carpediem, @painandpleasure86, @bribrifrenchfry, @xlucylennonx, @a-night-at-the-abbey-road, @inthedayswhenlandswerefew, @madformeddowstaylor, @queenrogertaylorfan, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @queen-for-life, @rethought, @darlinginnuendo, @mymakeupmaybeflaking, @old-but-still-a-child, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @warriorteam1924, @funnydressesweirdhairanddance, @painkiller80, @thefanhuman13, @yourtieddownmother, @hgmercury39, @brimi-stardust, @thefairyfellermercury, @retroromantics, @foxmonkey, @sophiaintheskywithdiamonds, @holybrianmaywritingbear, @lydiannode, @39-yellow-daffodils , @ure-gonna-loveme-when-u-seeme, @kaykaybeachgirl, @rhysjoejoshtomfarisblog @redspecialandclogsandcurls, @briansrainbowsocks, @delilahmay39, @ohmybribri, @bless-the-queen, @infunitehearbeat, @sketchiesscketches, @everythingaboutfreddie, @doitforthevine67, @recordsoftheseventies, @tenementfunsterwithpurpleshoes, @drummah-in-a-rocknroll-band, @beatlegirl1968, @maylorsqueen, @shearrehartatacc, @gralto, @alittlepeoplemagic, @rainbowsockbrian, @sailawaysweetbrimi

[qlistening]

How are the Bees REALLY doing?

Anyone who knows me well--which should be all of you because I just weeded out some of the weeklings on my private story--know that under this hard outer shell I have a soft side that sort of cares about the environment. In order to maintain my douchebag persona, I pretty much only care about “cool” environmental issues at this point. Polar bears, pollution, and pollinators are just a little too kombucha girl for me under normal circumstances, but the quarantine has me unusually curious about wtfgo with the bees. 

Y’all all remember when all the liberals and like, Burts Bees were getting their aerie panties and waxy chapstick in a wad about bees being like an endangered species and dying and shit? Not gonna lie, this got a pretty good grip on my attention. Partially because Anna had a really cool beehive at her house at the time. Partially because the boy who emotionally destroyed me in highschool was allergic to bees, so I wanted to make sure someone was doing something to keep their numbers up. Despite my slight concern, I did what I usually do about these lame environmental issues: not a goddamn thing. Now, with rumors circulating that the bees are doing fine now, I decided to do a little investigating on what the fuck is going on in this weird little niche. 

(once again you’ll probs have to click something to keep reading)

First, I consulted my resident bee guy, Luke Davis, who I happen to know spent the summer going door to door hitting up rich liberals for bee saving cash. How much? The organization he was working for raised $100k in about a month. For fucking what, you might be wondering? Lobbying for NC to pass the Pollinator Protection Act. 

If you google this act, the first thing that is probably going to come up is a Daily Tar Heel article essentially roasting this bill for how dumb it is. Gist of the article is the bill makes no sense because a) bee populations are literally fine and estimated to have increased by like 500,000 hives in the past 10 years and b) it singles out only one type of pesticide that is not even proven to be killing these suckers. What type of pesticide is it? Neonicotinoids. 

Yeah, I know you all had the sudden urge to hit your quarantine juuls after seeing the word nicotine shoved in there. Your instinct was correct. Neonicotinoids are pesticides that kill bugs by fucking up the nervous system in their brain with huge doses of nicotine. Huh? Farmers have been killing bugs with nicotine since the 90s, but the government couldn’t make a fucking decision about whether or not it was bad for us until our generation was already addicted? This is a whole other conspiracy for next week. 

Anyways, PBS says that neonics aren’t simply killing bees, but rather making them a little dumber so that they forget to do important shit like killing off the sick bees before they infect the rest of the colony. Can you really blame those suckers though? Just like us, they went from sharp individuals to irritable little addicts, whose primary concern became when Smoke Rings closed on a Friday night. And this bill wants to ban the use of these pesticides and force them to quit cold turkey? I don’t know about y’all, but I am genuinely afraid to live in a state full of bees who are going through nicotine withdrawals at the same time. 

Who were the four horsemen of this idiot bill? You guessed it, democratic senators from Raleigh, Durham, Charlotte, and Hillsborough. Real Miss Americas these four, with bills like “animal abuser registry” and “continuing education for prisoners” plastered all over their records. Probably wanted this bill as another trophy on their shelf. I guess $100k wasn’t enough to convince them to finish the job though, because this bill has been held up in the state senate for just over a year now. 

Politics and conspiracy theories aside, I really did just wanna know what was up with the bees in the first place. After doing some really in depth research on the topic,

I found some real funny shit. 

The first thing was this Guardian article that opened my eyes to a really weird phenomenon. Apparently the honey business is not super profitable these days, so beekeepers have been boxing up their hives and shipping them across the country to work on almond farms in California. Apparently summer camp on the almond farm is essentially the bee equivalent of Coachella, according to Arizona beekeeper Arp. He says “There can be hundreds of thousands of hives from multiple beekeepers in one staging area. It is like letting your bees go into a singles bar and then have unprotected sex.” Another beekeeper claims that they feel “disrespected” by humans after their summer of love on the almond farm. This guy says “They are in severe decline because our human relationship to them has become so destructive.” Interesting theory sir. The other guy said they just kept coming back with diseases from raw dogging it all summer in Cali, and that’s why they were dying.

Here is a pic of them arriving in their boxes to almond Coachella. I bet they’re so excited.

The European honeybees (aka the ones that do all of the work pollinating) are literally fine though. I read like three different articles that basically said it was only native species that were endangered. Sure, that is sad, but at least shit is still getting pollinated. 

The story of the “bee war” between European bees and Asian bees has to be my favorite. Basically, the European bees are outcompeting the asian bees by having sexier queens. According to this article, European bees have like better pheromones or something so when the queen says she wants to get fucked and fed, her boys get on that shit immediately. Asian bee’s on the other hand don’t take that shit. If the queen is being too much of a bitch, some of the dudes will just grow some ovaries and start their own fucking colony. This lack of unity has apparently fucked them over pretty hard because European bees have taken over about 80% of their territory. But get this! Apparently the Asian bees are making a comeback because the European bees are such simps that they don’t even have the balls to form a new colony when their queen gets killed by a hornet. 

Shiv sent me this this morning.

Asian bees might be on their way to the top.

TLDR: the bees are fine. Probably better shit to worry about in this day and age.

[musingsofloveandlife]

Annnnndddd we’re back to boys. 🤦🏼‍♀️ I know, shocking. 🙄 I recently decided, after being saved my job, that I should probably try the tinder scene again. Yes, even after my whole ‘I need to focus on me’, ‘all I’ve done the last 5 years is worry about boys’, ‘you don’t need a boy to be happy’ spiel - even after all that, I found myself swiping again. I got a bit lucky this time. Had a boy swipe me and, God forbid, say hi to me. And what was weird was that I thought he was cute. So we did the number exchange. He got a bit annoying, dodging me when I tried to organise a date but then we got there and it was actually pretty good. We met up at a restaurant however when we arrived he suggested we walk down the street to play some pool. There was flirting and teasing. We played a few games in a dark and dingy room. Right when he was reprimanding me playfully for calling him terrible, he kissed me, much to my shock. Moreso at the fact at how embarrassed I got since there were a few people around. Anyway, he has a cat (I know, slightly weird for a macho man, which he very much is) so he suggested I go meet her (which is code for come to mine so we can knock boots). That was not a disappointment at all 😉 What I did find surprising about this one though however was that he did say it several times that he’d like to make it a regular occurrence. First of all I got a bit confused. Not because he suggested it because I was kind’ve freaking out. As if he was already attached. I don’t really understand my thinking there but what also confused me was when he, though extremely tired, told me to message me when I got home. I thought that was sweet. Even sweeter when I did and he replied. Did a guy actually stay awake, though extremely tired (even more so after a rump in the sack) to find out if I made it home safe? 🤔 Of course the next day, I didn’t get a message. Which usually happens after a first date - the guy’s supposed to message the next day (am I the only one who knows that?). He didn’t so I set myself up to message him Tuesday, you know, all nonchalant; but I couldn’t wait, so I messaged him Monday 😅. Again I was shocked to find that he replied and we set up another day. Not a date, a day, which I was perfectly fine with. As we drew nearer to that day, my expectations were of course very low. This guy was probs gonna cancel - let’s be honest. That’s what they all do. Imagine my surprise when he didn’t cancel. And instead I saw him and again it was pretty amazing 😌 And even more shocked I was when he suggested next week we go out and get something to eat. I don’t even think shocked was the right word. If you’re not aware, this shit is not what I’m used to. I can barely keep a guy interested in more than one date with me and let’s be honest, most of the time it’s a one nighter - we get what we both want - and go our separate ways (usually without a text or anything - ghosting anyone?). But this guy wants to see me again? That’s a miracle! Now of course my very well versed brain cannot help but doubt this boy’s intentions - especially after we were talking about our ‘past relationships’ and I mentioned I’ve never been in a relationship for longer than a month (meanwhile he mentioned, I count 2 ex-missus). Not only that, but I mentioned I would be deleting tinder as I was growing tired of it and while he said he hadn’t been on it since he met me, not only after the first date did he update his bio but after the second ‘day’ he uploaded a new photo 🤔🤦🏼‍♀️. While I’d like to believe he’s the ‘good guy’ my gut is still on the fritz. It’s obvious that he’s looking around - which is perfectly fine because I can definitely say, he’s not someone I would think would be anyone too serious - but I really, really hope he has the decency that not many other guys have, to tell me if he is no longer interested. And atm while I know he’s not ‘the one’ and I can’t really see myself being with him, I’m just trying to not get too excited about him so as to not have another ‘situationship’ on my hand. I can handle what I have with another guy - sexual magnetism, but a deep respect and almost, friendship - but I can’t handle falling for a guy who I know isn’t good for me, but like him anyway because he’s a nice person and he can show me what it is like to be in a relationship (a cheap imitation at that). I know I need to relax and step back a bit - to wait and see. And I know this may not turn out too good. But I do need to stop expecting the worst. Like attracts like. And I do deserve a good guy in my life, just not at the expense of my self worth. I’ve gotta be positive! Everything happens for a reason right? Maybe this boy is supposed to be here to show me that not all guys are bad 🤷🏼‍♀️ after all, considering my track record, my faith definitely has been tested to its last nerve.

[starwrite-er]

Poster Boy [Chapter 16] - Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: *coughing* this update is long overdue holy shit sorry but hey the last jedi is coming out next month so I shld probs get around to finishing this lol *coughing*

A/N: was kind of imaging the outfit the reader wears in coruscant to be like what Nadine Ross wears to the Rossi Estate auction in Uncharted 4, but, like, more nightclub-esque?

Tag List (jesus this has decreased in number yikes): @firefeatherx @plethora-of-things @britishteahater @umbrellabrass @purple-skeleton @winchesterandpie @the-creative-lie @i-alrightokaycool @definitely-nota-fangirl

 Three days after Keipii apparently referred to Poe as ‘dad’, I find myself up early, preparing to leave on a mission of my own. Keipii insisted on seeing me off, resulting in Jessika being woken up at a painful hour to watch over her, at least until Poe arrived back on base later that day.

 “Ready to go?” I ask Niyele.

 “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She replies. I smile at her reassuringly, reminded that this is her first mission.

 With my old friend by my side, we depart from D’Qar, following through with our plans for Coruscant. It was nothing too hard: Niyele would be gaining ‘field experience’ by sticking by me while I dealt with extracting information from a First Order official stationed on the highly industrialised and urban planet.

 “So, how’re you feeling about your first mission?” I ask my old friend.

 “Uh, nervous? Almost apprehensive?” She tries, shrugging. “I don’t know. It’s kind of surreal that I’m doing this, to be honest.”

 “And to think, just a few short weeks ago you would have never considered joining the Resistance,” I crack a smile in her direction as I continue to pilot the low-profile ship. “Don’t worry about it though, just stick by me and use your common sense and you’ll be fine.”

 “So no wandering around the cityscape?” Niyele tries to joke, but I shoot her a look.

 “Listen, I don’t want to put you off, but I’m being dead serious when I say you need to stay by me at all times,” I tell her, the tone of my voice humourless. “Coruscant is crawling with criminals; one foot out of line and you won’t even make it back to base.”

 My warning quiets Niyele, at least for a moment.

 “I mean, that’s funny though, because aren’t we technically criminals?” My friend speaks up, taking me by surprise.

 “What?” Is all I can manage to say in response.

 “The mere existence of the Resistance goes against a couple laws, not to mention the individual charges that could be given,” Niyele pauses, glancing over at me before she continues. “Destruction of property, theft, kidnapping, illegal dealings, murder... and that’s just to list a few.”

 I swallow thickly, completely caught off guard by her words. I frown, knowing that, really, she isn’t wrong.

 A strong feeling of guilt twists in my gut at the thought, and I find myself rationalising it the best I can - the First Order is doing worse to more.

 The silence that settles over us for the rest of the journey isn’t an entirely comfortable one, at least until we arrive at our destination.

 Despite it’s rough reputation, it’s hard to deny how impressive the ecumenopolis is. A historical centre of galactic politics, there’s a lot to Coruscant, from the neon lights glowing from the deeper levels, to the glinting metal buildings that pierce the troposphere, reserved for only the highest ranked in the galaxy. We’re here with a purpose, though. We don’t have time for sightseeing.

 “Intel has told us that there’s a club not far from here that this First Order guy will be at tonight,” I refresh Niyele’s memory of the details. “The place is likely going to swarming with guards, so we needs to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

 Niyele hums in acknowledgment, drinking in the sights around us. Right - she’d never left Pamarthe before the incident a couple weeks ago. This is all brand new to her.

 Upon our arrival, we step out of the small ship and venture into our temporary quarters. It’s nothing too fancy, just a simple grey room with a single, long window giving us a good view of the surrounding city. If all were to go well, the mission would be done with by the following morning.

 In the bag I carry in with me is a top and trousers more suited to a nightclub setting. I slip into the change of clothes as the time of the mission draws closer, the more dressy outfit feeling foreign compared to my usual attire.

 As the mission is simply to extract information from a specified member of the First Order, I’m not sure of what I’m looking for him to say - intel just said that, as rumour has it, he has some info that the Resistance would be interested in. So, to avoid me missing anything, a holocam is hidden in a necklace I’ve been told to wear, and an audio recorder concealed by the fabric of my shirt. Set for the mission, I flick the devices on, and leave the quarters with Niyele, also dressed for the occasion.

 Galactic City is illuminated more by artificial lights than perhaps even the sun it orbits as it struggles to pierce the braze, and as night falls, the synthetic glow keeps the ecumenopolis as bright as it would be during the day. The high level club our mission dictates we must visit seems to be no exception to this, the surrounding neon signs bathing us in bold colours. On a planet so far from it’s sun, I’d find myself cold if it weren’t for the industrial heat.

 The haze inside is intoxicating, strobe lights flashing throughout the room. The hum of music and the buzz of conversation is almost deafening as we push through the crowd. Amongst the numerous bodies, I spot my target sitting at the cantina. Glancing back over my shoulder, I nod at Niyele, and we go our separate ways. I approach Captain Stit of the First Order.

 “Must say, I do love a man in a uniform.” I speak up, leaning against the bar counter and flashing a smile at the man. He gives me a look up and down.

 “And who might you be?” He questions, still somewhat on guard, but, judging by his near empty glass, he’ll be tipsy soon.

 “You can call me Aubramay,” I give a name that isn’t mine, offering another charming smile as I take the seat next to him. Pretending to only just notice the rank insignia on his uniform and feigning curiosity, I reach out and brush my fingers over the band on his sleeve. “Oh, this looks official. What does it mean?”

 Stit sits up a little straighter. “I’m Captain Stit of the First Order,” Pride oozes from his words as he brags. “It’s one of the highest ranks you can achieve - I did a lot to get there.” 

 “Really? What sort of stuff do you do?” I inquire, tilting my head a bit, acting oblivious to his overselling of his rank.

 “Captain, I-“ Some buckethead interrupts our conversation, much to my annoyance.

 “What? Can’t you see I’m busy here?” Stit gestures at me to the trooper that must be accompanying him.

 “Sorry, Captain, but I have just received word that-.” The stormtrooper states looks in my direction and pauses before lowering their voice to relay to Stit what I assume was classified information. They exchange a few more words, and then the trooper is off again, the Captain downing the rest of his drink.

 Across the room, I catch Niyele’s eye. She shoots me a reassuring look as First Order Captain returns his attention to me.

 “It must be hard, organising an entire force of soldiers.” I muse sympathetically. Stit nods in agreement.

 “It is, but that’s not all there is to my job,” He says and leans in slightly. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Can you keep a secret?”

 “I’d love to.” I reply, a sly smile slipping onto my face. He glances around, checking for eavesdroppers, oblivious to the wire I have on.

 “I’ve recently been working on a top priority project, planning a mission to go ahead in a couple months, probably sooner,” He says lowly, an attempt to impress me. I raise a brow, my interest piqued. “We’ve been tracking down this old, Jedi-sympathiser that the higher-ups think has something the First Order wants. We reckon the scumbag’s somewhere in the Western Reaches of the galaxy’s Inner Rim.”

 “Well, I must say, the galaxy has some nicer places to go into hiding than there.” I remark, to which Stit laughs. His cooperation has been useful, but Light, I’d hate to have someone so easily manipulated holding my secrets.

 The stormtrooper from earlier returns, once again interrupting us. “Captain, we have received a call from base. Your presence has been sent for.”

 Stit takes a deep breath, glaring daggers at the soldier. There’s a pause before he addresses me. “I’m going to have to cut this short, but it’s been good.” The First Order official gives me what I’m sure is meant to be a charming smile, but his morals make me sick.

 “I’ve enjoyed myself; I hope I see you around again.” I give him a wink. He leaves, and I watch him go, waiting until he’s out of sight before I get out of the club.

 I scan the crowd for Niyele as I push my way towards the door, but can’t spot her in amongst the bodies in the low-light. I bite my cheek, stepping outside, trying to come to a decision.

 “You looking for your friend?” A bouncer at the door notices my search. I smile sheepishly and reply affirmatively. He gestures down the street. “I saw her leave a couple minutes ago, headed in that direction.”

 Well, cheers to him for remembering her face.

 I thank the bouncer before setting off to find my friend and partner on this mission, angry that she ignored my earlier warning about the dangers of Coruscant. At least she seems to be going towards the location at which we’re staying here.

 After walking for a few minutes with no sign of Niyele, I’m getting anxious. Every dark alley and every shady person puts me on edge, the small blaster hidden in the waistband of my trousers my only comfort in this unfamiliar setting.

 When I finally catch sight of my friend, I’m initially met with relief as I see she’s fine, but as I take my first step into the alleyway, I quickly become confused, catching the words being exchanged.

 “Niyele? What’s going on?” My question is naive and desperate to remain oblivious as I break into the conversation between my old friend and a stormtrooper. She whips around, her wide, guilty eyes proving she’s been caught in the act of doing something wrong. “Were you- were your really about to-“

 “Halt!” The stormtrooper commands, raising their blaster at me. I already have my weapon ready though, and the white-clad soldier hits the ground, dead, barely a moment later.

 “You weren’t suppose to see this.” Is all Niyele says.

 “Weren’t supposed to see what? You selling us out to the enemy?” I spit my words, my chest tight as the pain of her actions takes hold. “How could you do something like that?”

 “How could I not?” Niyele retorts, any guilt in her expression vanishing, replaced with anger, her voice rising. “It’s because of you and the rest of the Resistance that my village - my home - was obliterated!”

 I stare at her in stunned silence, the venom in her words stinging.

 “You think... you think it was our fault?” I can barely whisper my words, her glare steely. I swallow thickly, my throat constricting and my stomach twisting. “We did everything we could to stop the First Order, and that’s what you have to say?”

 “Your presence only encouraged them! If it weren’t for you, my family wouldn’t be dead!” She shouts back at me, her fists clenched tight.

 “We all lost people that day,” My voice rises at her accusation. “Yet you would betray everyone that survived by giving away the location of our base. Why?”

 “It’s a small price to pay to ensure the Resistance doesn’t ruin the lives of anyone else.” She justifies her actions, not a trace of regret in her voice.

 I take a shaky breath, unshed tears blurring my vision. She was one of my oldest friends, but she’d leave us all for dead.

 Seconds of silence in our argument tick by. The sound of shouts in the distance urges me to do something.

 “At least they died protecting the people they cared for,” I speak up, meeting Niyele’s eye. “You... you just died a traitor.”

 “Wha-“

 Thump.

 She doesn’t even finish her sentence, hitting the ground before she gets the chance, dead by my hand. The blaster, still raised in her direction, feels foreign and suddenly so wrong.

 It clatters to the floor, and I crumple to my knees alongside it. I scrunch my eyes close, burying my face in my hands, but the imagine of Niyele’s lifeless body is seared into my memory.

 Niyele is dead. She betrayed us. I killed her.

 She’s dead. She betrayed us. I killed her.

 She’s dead. She betrayed us. I killed her.

[dakotahiggins-blog1]

Having visited for the first time as a high schooler at the ripe age of 17, I can confidently say that I experienced Cabo before Cabo experienced its boom. Well over a decade later, the place looks completely different to my eyes.

When the first hotel, Palmilla, opened in 1956 essentially as a sports club, Cabo San Lucas and its older brother San Jose del Cabo (combined to make Los Cabos) made up a quiet beach paradise…and then Jack Nicklaus came in the 60s for his go-to golf vacays. As time went on, the sleepy fishing village kept bringing in hotel rooms and groomed golf courses. Cut to 2019. The secret was out.

Luxury hotels are definitely keeping up with population growth, and nothing pairs better with a jacuzzi suite than a world-class golf game and a side of guac. I was keen on participating in this renaissance.

Esperanza Resort

Last week I checked into a hotel I’ve heard about many times. Esperanza Resort from the Auberge collection had me at HELLO HOLA HI HEY HOW YA DOIN? Sorry for the caps, but emphasis was necessary. Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name and they’re always glad you came. Esperanza should probs be featured in the Cheers opening credits because it’s exactly that way. “Hola Ms. Murphy! Como estás Mr. Murphy?!” It’s funny because Alex is so often referred to as Mr. Murphy during our travels. I think he’s totally fine with it The many highlights included…

Cocina del Mar

I’m not sure I’ve ever dined at a more beautiful/romantic setting. Maybe so, but it’d take a while to think about and wonder if it truly competed with a setting perched atop cliffs overlooking Esperanza’s two private beaches as waves crash below. The entire resort blends well with the surroundings, almost like it arrived with the land itself. So much soul, so much nature, so much LET ME LIVE HERE PLEASE.

I digress. Order the ravioli and banana soufflé. My mouth is watering just thinking back on it…

Playa Paraiso

This seaside experience centered around a colorful cabana, food, and relaxation nestled in the resort’s private beach where each palapa features a day bed, playful swing, a speaker and private butler service (shoutout Roberto!). We began the day with a yoga class followed by breakfast and then an I’m-really-full-need-to-lounge session. Life was really good in that palapa.

Palapa Room

Room 54 was a masterpiece. Not only designed beautifully with beachy vibes and relaxing hues, but the room came with a massive terrace and jacuzzi AND puppies. Yes, puppies. One blissful afternoon I puppysat Ricky and Rosa, long-haired Chihuahuas from central Mexico who will be the cutest hotel mascot ever created. If you can beat that hotel amenity, let me know. I’ll wait.

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Chileno Bay Resort

I have to be honest. While change is healthy, change is challenging. I did not want to leave Esperanza Resort. I could birth my babies, live out a wonderful life and retire here. I drove up to Chileno Bay for check-in still holding onto this hope. (I was in denial.) I didn’t want to like Chileno Bay. It was a contemporary take on the classic Baja escape with an airy, open aesthetic that blurs the line between indoor and outdoor. Terrible, right? A red cart named “Tony” met us at check-in and gave us a Corona. Okay Tony with the beers. I see you. Chileno Bay was brand spankin’ new with beautiful young palm trees and pops of color and relaxing sounds coming from the pool area. Sounds horrific, right? The room had two showers and a bathtub decked in blue tile alongside an outdoor jacuzzi. So many bodies of water, so little time. The hydrotherapy kicked in and I realized I’d become obsessed with my new home. I think I’m gunna like it here…

Spa

I was told the 7,500-square-foot spa had a healing “ritual” I needed to partake in. Twist my arm, I did just that. The salt room, steam room, ice bath and reflexology pool were quite the highlight indeed alongside the massage and facial I experienced.

Food

The standout of Cabo was hands down the cuisine. I ate WELL and thus, gained 5 pounds, maybe six. Who knows? I don’t believe in scales. The only thing I’m sure about is this: The Auberge chefs are extremely talented and the creativity that went into meal settings was next level. One night we were eating at a spa after a 90-minute massage and then next on a cliff overlooking the sea at Mirador Point. Order the chicken. Don’t ask questions, just DO IT. And then follow up with churros.

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Fitness

I work out so that I can eat well and eat a lot. My relationship with fitness actually goes far deeper than that, but I want everyone to know that you don’t have to skip out on all the local yumminess when traveling. Eat the churro(s). Have the margarita. Just move the next day Your body will appreciate you! Chileno Bay Resort & Residences offers group fitness classes like yoga, Zumba, beach bootcamp and AQUA SPIN where you literally spin on a bike in the water. I KNOW. The only resistance is the water (yay low impact!), and I wish I could do this exercise daily.

Beach

The most desirable beach in Los Cabos resides here, known for its tranquil, swimmable waters and coral reefs where a short venture out to sea unveils an underwater world of tropical fish and sea turtles! With that being said, this beach is not private like Esperanza’s beach (which is rockier). Pros and cons but both beautiful in their own way!

They say third times a charm, and my third trip to Cabo was exactly that. For once, I let a lot of the craziness that I typically do take a backseat. Instead of a jam packed itinerary, I allowed myself to actually lounge and enjoy the scenery as I’ve experienced this town to epic proportions in the past. Cabo was where I was certified to scuba dive. I’ve been whale watching on a boat trip (totally recommend), and a visit to downtown Cabo requires a stop at The Office for margs and Ediths for everything else. Flora Farms is crazy beautiful, almost like Pinterest threw up in the desert of Cabo. I’ve never been one to plan out my wedding, but I left here thinking I could do the damn thing on these grounds.

I adore Cabo and the people in it. To Euanice, Mario Lopez, Lizabeth, Caesar, Javier, Yanni, Marc Rodriguez, Roberto, Miguel, Antonio, Francisco, Raúl, Saira, and Juliana: mil gracias por todo.

This little paradise has overcome hurricanes and tropical storms and cartel violence. 2018 saw a record 2.6 million visitors. I commend its perseverance. While I’d say it’s predictable because you know what you’re going to get…you know what you’re going to get! Lots of people like this and I, too, enjoy the certainty at times – no surprises, lots of sunshine, tequila in abundance and a 2 hour flight from LA. What’s not to love?!

All imagery by Alex Kavanagh, DRONEGEAR Productions

The post The Best Hotels in Cabo San Lucas appeared first on The Road Les Traveled.